The Blessing of Good Thoughts

There must be a lot of people praying for me. It’s very clear to me that the peace I feel, the love I feel, even joy at times, comes from the prayers of others.

Sure there is frustration, even to the point of occasional meltdowns. Evenings are worst. When I’m poisoned, I’m down hard. We had a difficult fall and emotional Christmas. My husband is remodeling the bathroom and just disconnected the main floor toilet. Enough said on that one. (Still, it is wonderful to have him home, outside the landscaping season, to take me to appointments, get me things, and just be here.)

But there is also more time here in treatment in winter to consider my good life. My very, very good life. And to think good thoughts.

There are many things to think about, and I find myself thinking good thoughts. My White Blood Count (WBC) is very low, and because I get treatment again next week, I need to get five daily shots of zarxio to boost the count. Not a big deal, but I got up and out in -4 degree weather to go to the Cancer Center this morning. And will for the next four days, including weekend trips to the hospital. I will not be feeling good for two of those days.

But on the way home, I found myself thinking about small acts of kindness and people who remembered them when I forgot or hadn’t even thought about doing them. I don’t think of myself as a particularly kind or even considerate person. I’m lousy at all etiquette thank yous and a complete failure at sending mail, and I find myself wishing I’d done something kind after the fact more often than I like to admit. But this day, driving home, I thought about a quilt. It was made for me by a a Jesuit priest in Cincinnati, on the occasion of my wedding, after I worked with him on his book. Later he wanted me to send it to him to display in a show. I had it dry cleaned and sent it along with money for the return postage. He was really grateful about the return postage. It seemed obvious to me that was required following this gift. I was thinking of the quilt because it’s on a bed in a guest bedroom where I’m doing a sewing project. And before putting a bunch of stuff on the bed, I carefully rolled it up and put an old blanket on it instead. I’m not great at caring for my things, either, but the quilt!

This made me think of a much earlier time. I was taking care of my boyfriend’s sister-in-law after a devastating surgery. It was just after college and I hadn’t yet landed my first real job. I was working at a health food store and could spend some days with her. She was 20 years older than me, very successful, and intimidating. I made her lunch, most days a bagel with cream cheese and tomatoes. I made it into a happy face with a carrot smile on the plate. A couple years later, as my relationship was ending and I was moving to New York City, we were at a family gathering and she said she’d never forget those bagel sandwiches. I had already forgotten. In fact, I’d assumed she found them silly. She said they made her so happy. She hadn’t said anything at the time. I thought of this because as part of my self-care, I bought myself some fancy new sheets. During that recovery, one day her husband bought new sheets and had me take them up to her. (He was on crutches and worked full time, which was why they needed help.) She smiled wanly. Her husband came up and we made her get up while we put on the new sheets (I thought they should be washed first, but whatever.) “Blue,” her husband said. “Your favorite color.” After that I have always thought of sheets as just the most luxurious gift to oneself!

I am full of memories. And like the last time of treatment, I am surrounded by love. I’ve been getting a lot of cards (some people are really good at that!), primarily from an online women’s group I’m a part of. Some of these women I don’t really know. Others I knew in college, but not well. Some take the time to write to me about something specific– including how they met me or became aware of me, and things that remind them of me. It’s amazing to know about these connections, which of course we all carry with us. To have touched someone’s life in some small way. We just have no idea– and then we have cancer, and people tell us.

So here, in treatment, I’m spending some time resting in these thoughts. Life is good, and has been good even in the hard times. I have done a good job of being in this world.

On the energy of these good thoughts (and yesterday’s steroid before chemo) I made Indian food for dinner tonight, and got started on those curtains. But at 4:00 every day I enter “rest time.” I read, or nap, or just Facebook, or write, or sit around and think good thoughts.