Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Just about Perfect

Boy, we've been having some nice weather. It has been in the 70s. Even close to 80 for a time. It has been great. Everything is budding out, and I have daffodils blooming. Tulips are close to blooming, from the looks of it.

My hip has been doing better. It still bothers me, but it is not nearly as bad as it was. Today I had an appointment with the orthopedic doctor. The nurse said, "What kind of dancing do you do?" I laughed and told her that I was a stripper. Yeah. There's a real market out there for lopsided women with multi colored bosoms and scars. That gave her a case of the giggles. "No," I confessed. "I was just dancing at my daughter's wedding." I think she liked the first story better. Anyway, the good news is that there is no sign of a stress fracture. There is also no sign of metatastic breast cancer. I'm good with all of that. The doctor said, "I'll get word back to Dr. B (my oncologist). She was quite concerned about that." I stared a bit. She never let on that she thought it could be anything serious. I was quiet with shock that day. I'd just met that young mother with metatastic breast cancer, and my wheels were wobbling a bit. A person can't help but think on things like this, especially when her hip goes *pop* for no apparent reason, but I was struggling to keep my perspective on things. It's best not to let your mind get carried away on the topic of cancer. I think that, all in all, I do a decent job of that, but that day, limping in to see Dr. B, there was a bit of trepidation. To meet that mother as I waited with my own worries, well, suddenly, it was as if my own dreads suddenly became illustrated. After the appointment, I went into a tailspin, even as I hated myself for doing it. I just could not stop thinking about her, and wondering what the future held for me. It was very reassuring to have people e-mail me right away to say that every cancer patient wrestled with doubt and fear from time to time. It made me feel much, much better, and I thank you all for that. It helped. It made me feel a lot more normal.

I also had another test, overdue, but I'd gotten sidetracked with all the cancer stuff, and never quite gotten around to it. Now that the dust had begun to settle, the oncologist brought it up again, and with a sigh, I made the appointment. Dr. M was delighted to tell me that I had a normal colonoscopy. He also commented that it was a pleasure to have a conversation with me that contained the word 'normal'. Yep. He had that right.

You probably don't remember, but I came across a glade of white dogtooth violets last year, and the year before that. They just stretched as far as the eye could see, and they were in Mr. M's back yard. It was such a beautiful sight, and I marveled over them every time that I trekked across his yard and headed back into the swamp. Well. Mr. M. came into the store a while back, and I mentioned his white violets, and how I loved them. Then I casually said with a laugh, "So if you see me marching across your back yard with a shovel, well, you know what I'm up to." He said, "Come right over. You're welcome to them." He was so quick to answer that it made me feel embarrassed, as if maybe I'd backed him into a corner or something. Well. I got the shock of my life today. I stopped by one of the houses downtown to dig up some rosebush. It is too big where it is, and the whole corner of the house is overgrown. So Tim helped me and we dug some of it up. It has brilliant red flowers and will look nice trained up over our trellis at home. "Hey," he said, "why don't you dig up some of those lillies from the back yard?" I told him that we had so many of those already that I hated to bring home even more. But I walked back to take a look anyway. I saw a huge patch of white in the back yard. White violets! I dug up a nice shovelful of them and brought them home to plant as well. I never saw them last year. Not at all. This year they are everywhere!

Today, I just felt like the luckiest person in the world. That's the way life kind of works, isn't it? Sometimes you're the windshield, and sometimes you're the bug, as they say. I foundered around for a time, but I'm better now. I've regained my footing, and I'm continuing on.


BUSH BABE said...

Alrighty then! Excellent news... and gorgeous mental image of the flowers! (More pics?).

A little somethin' at my place for any leftover melancholy...

Jayne said...

The flowers were waiting for your good news day xxx.

Pencil Writer said...

Spring is just the greatest! I love the joy and energy that come from a yard drenched with blossoms! Mine is that way right now, with more threatening to explode upon us any day. It makes me sing!

I'm so glad we have something to sing about with you, too, with all that good news drenching you as well! Alleluia! Halleljah! and so forth, however you want to spell it!

Lori said...

I'm so glad you got good news from the doctors'! And white violets, to top it off, too!