I know it’s been awhile since I blogged. Seven months to be exact.
I received the news around July 2023 that I would need to start some type of chemotherapy again for my Waldenstrom’s macroglobulenemia lymphoma. Needless to say, I wasn’t thrilled, since I had 2 rounds of chemo since fall of 2018. The second round in fall of 2022, didn’t produce the results that my oncologist thought.
So here I was, speaking to my oncology team, once again, about figuring out a way to get my IgM protein levels down, since they were way too high. A normal person’s was under 250. Mine was over 2,900.
We made a plan to revisit our talk at the end of January. My doc wanted me to try Imbruvica, a cancer kinase inhibitor, which would help bring my protein levels down and hopefully help me have more energy.
The BJC grant coordinator phoned me the following week. She mentioned there was a grant available and she was going to jump on it, I just needed to answer a few questions, one of which was total combined salary for hubby and I. She call me less than 10 minutes later and mentioned we obtained the grant which brought the monthly amount from 3,800 a month to 600 a month. She also applied for another grant, two days later, and it brought the copay down to zero.
I picked up the pills at the pharmacy on a Friday. The following Wednesday I had an appointment with my oncologist and a blood draw. One day later, my IgM protein results came in at 168! I haven’t been in the normal range for 12 years! Doc called me ecstatic. I thought it was a mistake, but my next thought was it must be a miracle. The pills were working and it had only been 5 days! I was so excited.
So in light of my good news I’d like to share a poem that I found laying around, that was never published.
I call it Senses. I hope you enjoy it.
Senses
In the solitude of the gazebo,
I listen to the creek
rushing,
A cool spring rain…
The bottle tree glistens
dancing with reflections of
Indigo blues, shamrock and pear greens,
and root beer caramels.
Recycled boards from the
100-year-old barn,
and strands of seashells from countless
shorelines,
suspended from fishing line
create windchimes
jingling from
a decayed branch of the
ash tree.
While savoring a vanilla latte,
I spy on the fur babies peaking
out the glass storm door
searching for me.
The melody of the tufted titmouse,
a house finch,
and the mourning dove
ask the question,
“Who am I?”
I seek the answer in the quiet
of the trees
while Maypop apples form tiny
communities as
ground cover
protected by their
natural umbrella.
You can find my latest poetry and photography collection, Sunset Beach Dances, at bookstores, through Shanti Arts Publishing, and online.
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