For the first time in six weeks, I was able to curl up with the morning Chronicle, a cup of coffee and my daily herb supplement smoothie. My treatments had been scheduled at 8:15 so we could drop Miles off at high school on the same trip…this morning they left me in bed to wake up at my discretion, which I took full advantage of.
It will, I think, be necessary for me to shave my head, although I have begun a new hobby of collecting hats. In addition to my Guatemalan mojo hat, I’ve acquired a Death Valley endurance run hat (basically a white baseball cap with extra cloth on the sides and back for sun protection). My sister gave me a black do-rag with red and yellow Chinese dragons embroidered on it, and Ellen just got me a black velvet hat for formal wear. My hairline is sufficiently weird that even the least observant would immediately recognize it as something other than normal baldness, and it could actually frighten small children. So I guess it’s going to be the Barry Bonds look for me. (Without the crucifix earring. Although the do-rag and a hoop would all but insure that nobody would ever mess with me.)
The hats can sometimes present their own interesting situations. Yesterday I was taking a walk in Tiburon, past all the quaint (translation: grossly overpriced) shops on Ark Row, when a woman noticed my sun protection hat and said "I know we’re going to war, but isn’t that a bit much? Noticing that she had a button indicating that she had recently volunteered in the Marin Cancer Project (as did Ellen) I told her I was getting radiation therapy for a brain tumor, and was extra sensitive to the sun. The poor thing tripped all over herself apologizing, and then tried to make it up to me by offering me a glass of wine from her wine shop. I told her I couldn’t drink, which started her sputtering all over again. Feeling that I could do nothing to improve the situation, I just walked away.
One rewarding aspect of all of this is to have contacted a couple of other people who are on the same journey with me. (If not on the same tour bus.) One of them is a lawyer in New York who contacted me after seeing a post of mine on a brain tumor discussion board. Her symptoms and the location and type of tumor were a mirror image of mine, and she is at virtually the same point in her treatment. We’ve been comparing notes and encouraging each other via e-mail for a few weeks now. Another fellow traveler is a BBC journalist who was also diagnosed with a tumor in August, and has been posting journals similar to these on the BBC website. If you’d like to check them out, go to http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/2253201.stm. Sharing their stories has given me the comfort of knowing that I’m not on this journey alone. Although, thanks to all the support and good wishes I’ve received from all of you, I’ve never really felt alone.
The next time you hear from me, after the MRI, will be around Thanksgiving. I’m looking forward to having several family members from Colorado joining us, and I’m also hoping to have a little extra to be thankful for. One thing for sure: I won’t forget to be thankful for all the prayers and healing vibes all of you have sent my way, nor will I forget to be thankful for the precious gift of life itself.
May you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
Peace and love,
Dan
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