A Season of Anniversaries

I can't believe it's July 1st!  Time to pull out the new calendar -- well, I've already been using it, but the true transition begins today.  I still use an academic calendar, the kind that runs from July to June.  In making this transition I always look back over the year to update my new one with birthdays, anniversaries, and the like. Here it is - I decided to get a smaller one this year:

Looking at last July, my stomach knotted and I had to sit down...
SO many BC related appointments!!!

Wow, what a difference a year makes!

Or does it?  Yes, I'm a little grayer (a lot if I'm being honest -- or at least visibly grayer ;) ), a tad less toned (but I'm working on that!), and certainly flatter chested (lol), but, otherwise, someone I haven't seen in a year might not notice too much of a change.

Segue -- do I use too many commas?  too many dashes? do I use them correctly? Just wondering ;)

Back to the topic...  On the inside, however, I'm certainly not the same person.  

A little over a month ago I started feeling the power of the passage of time.  How it dulls the pain.  How getting caught up in the wonderful things of life can push bad memories into far corners, behind the to-do lists of today and dreams for tomorrow.  

It seems surreal from this vantage point, a full year beyond the indescribable fear.

It was the 6th of June last year that I felt my life shift -- a bit before that if I'm still being honest, but denial and hope are powerful forces too!  This was our 26th anniversary, and the day of my diagnosis.

June 18th was the day I lost my right breast (begone you evil thing!), and tomorrow, July 2nd, is the anniversary of my first oncology appointment.  I can clearly remember stepping out of the elevator, onto the 4th floor, turning right, and facing the CANCER CENTER.  It became my home away from home for nearly six months -- at least I felt that way -- and the recollections aren't all bad.  
Though sitting in the "comfort" of the chemo suite last July 17th watching the nurse push toxic chemicals into my body through my chest port (the one sometimes-visible-above-my-neckline scar that indicates to those in the know that I'm a member of the club), followed by a 4-hour toxic drip for the first time, was a frightening experience.  And the red urine that followed... Ugh!

At this age it might seem odd to be thankful for the passage of time.  My friends and I so frequently wonder, "Where did time go?" "How did we get to be this OLD?"  But for me, the passage of time is a true gift, each day a victory I'm thankful for.  My peripheral neuropathy is improving, as is my cognitive fog (a.k.a. chemo brain).  

In this season of anniversaries, I'm also indescribably grateful for the love and support from dear friends and family.

And the prayers that truly sustained me -- and still do in times of doubt and fear.

I went to a store in Athens today, a wonderful place called Andree's that a good friend shared with me, to get some hypoallergenic, fragrance free hair and body products.  The owner is a cancer survivor who developed the products (she makes them herself) for her mother who also had cancer.  We chatted about our journeys - she just celebrated her 10 year anniversary :e  I told her I was 1 down and 9 to go to be there myself, an anniversary I aim to achieve!

Oh!!!  I nearly forgot to mention that we're Paris bound in a month :tup  
My dear mom's graduation gift to my precious daughter -- and I get to tag along ;)

So... au revoir pour maintenant chers amis!  Je vous ferai part des photos quand nous reviendrons!

Voici une photo de mon frère et moi en1975:

(Translator tool:  HERE)

No, la tour Eiffel is NOT leaning -- my dear mother took this picture ;)