We still get up at 5am each day to care for the chickens/guinea fowl, turn the compost, refill water/food, manage the woodlot, and ready our property for the llama (our new guard llama is pictured above) and alpacas which are arriving in a month.
Kathy generally keeps my schedule and is on the go 20 hours a day. Now that she's in the third week of radiation therapy, she's ready for sleep by 8:30pm.
She has no pain, swelling or discomfort (other than continued numbness in her feet which impacts her ability to stand for long periods), but the home stretch in our cancer journey is like the last few miles of a marathon. The joy of completion is offset by dwindling energy reserves and a desire for it to be over.
By July 31, the treatment phase of chemotherapy, surgery, and radiation will be done. We hope that the miracle of remission will continue for many years to come. However, it is clear that as the journey ends, the celebratory dancing will have to wait until the fatigue, the emotional drain, and residual numbness resolve with time.
Radiation therapy is far more benign than chemotherapy, but daily dosing feels unrelenting. All will be well and the exhaustion will be replaced by endless energy as our barnyard expands with the animals and plants we've envisioned.
As I 20 year old, I drove my mom to and from radiation therapy an hour each way. The Watergate hearings were on the radio every day. At one of her last sessions Nixon resigned as we pulled into the driveway. We sat there and listened to his resignation speech. As a bystander child at the time, I know how draining and demanding what you are going through is for family and patient. My thoughts are with you but so glad for what seems to be a fantastic remission/recovery.
ReplyDeleteKeep up the farming. :^)
ReplyDeleteMy maternal grandfather did that until he retired at 98 and he was one of the fittest people I've ever met.