50 copies of my book will soon be going home with cancer patients in Vermont thanks to a grant from the Vermont Community Foundation and the efforts of volunteers and others at the Franklin County Kindred Connections organization. Personally, I’m humbly very happy to know that the book will reach people free of charge when they may most find it useful to them.
My book will be given to patients in “Care Bags”, described as “fifty handmade cloth bags filled with thoughtful and caring gifts will be given to newly diagnosed cancer survivors”. The gifts will be given through a collaboration of the Northwestern Medical Center, Crafty Ladies, and various Vermont businesses. Special thanks to Sherry R. for thinking of my book and contacting me.
I haven’t written as much on this blog lately as other endeavors have had my attention, but the book keeps on selling on Amazon. There was also another recent article for which I was interviewed–I need to track that one down.
Interestingly, I have been surprised, but it’s true, I have finally reached the part of survival that my doctor used to predict that I would: Where it all starts to seem like a long ago memory, no longer a part of life that overshadows everything else. I remember that I did not believe him that I would ever get back to “normal”. I didn’t admit that, but I was sure that I would always be as terrified as I was immediately after treatment ended. I think part of me thought that to remain vigilant against cancer, I would have to remain scared of it.
Well, no. Life has resumed feeling… for lack of a better term somewhat “ordinary.” But I mean that in a good way.
If you’re in the thick of it and you feel a weird disbelief when someone tells you you’ll get through it, it’s okay. I can promise you this: you’re on your own path and your own timeframe and you’ll adjust as you need to, when you need to.
And… on the other hand: If you need help to find peace of mind, ask for help. You deserve it. And meanwhile, hope you’ll stay as active as you can and enjoy being alive. There’s a great opportunity in cancer survivorship to realize how much you love being alive. It’s cliche, I suppose, but it’s true–and it’s the only part of the whole experience I occasionally miss when normal tasks let me forget how special our time on earth really is.