Movin’ Right Along

It’s a cliché, but time is a funny thing. Like health, it’s something you only really notice when it seems thin, worn out or scarce.

We can honestly say that we’ve been swimming in a new ocean of time. The militant routine of chemo – with its every-two-hour vital signs, infusions, transfusions, and needle pricks — breaks apart when Julie enters the home atmosphere, giving way to expanses of time where everything flattens out and she recovers.

It’s this mood that brings us to today, when we look up and see that she’s scheduled to return to the Dartmouth-Hitchcock Hilton for her third round of chemo on May 5, the last before a tentatively scheduled transplant set for July. That’s less than two weeks away.

(Shit.)

In the weeks or months or years between blog posts, we’ve been digging holes in the yard (or, you know, the husband has been digging, but the wife has had to supervise, which any of Randy’s former bosses know is not an easy task), listening to music, standing by windows and watching the sun cross the horizon, watching every sign of life.

As though a mirror to this indomitable spirit of spring, Julie’s hair has begun to grow back (it’s become a second pet in the home that the husband and wife both cuddle — it’s soft and so sweet – as the hobgoblin glares at us), color has returned to her cheeks, and even her fingerprints have returned. The Badass Panda Warrior Queen rises to the surface like a light that can’t be hidden behind shade.

A slight scare a few weeks back – when blood tests showed early blasts – led to a bone marrow transplant with good news. In the exact words of Julie’s oncologist, her leukemia is in “complete remission!!!!” (Yes, four exclamation points from a Dartmouth doctor.) According to the doc, the blasts were part of a recovery process showing an abundance of healthy blood production.

Every cell arches towards light, life and love.

Some of you know this, but July marks our 29^th wedding anniversary (commemorating the day Randy abducted an infant bride Julie during a viking raid on coastal Maine). Things will not be normal for any of us, but I hope you will all celebrate this date with us in spirit because this month will also mark Julie’s new birthday (they call the day of transplant day one).

We inch forward, like you, one day at a time. We’re grateful to have you along with us for this journey – you’re all official members of Camp Kickass – Where LOVE Rules!