A year of peace

Before radiation therapy began Howard and I had begun to talk about having a third child. We knew we wanted another. In fact knowing that was one of the things that spurred me to see the radiation oncologist. I really didn’t want a repeat of the “have a baby, get a tumor surgically removed” pattern. I wanted the thing gone before I embarked on a pregnancy. The orginal plan was to finish the therapy, recover, then get pregnant a month or two later. Part way through the therapy I realized I could not deal with that emotionally or physically. I realized that I needed at least a full year of recovery time before I even considered any further major life changes. I got that year. I call it my year of peace.

In the 8 years prior to my year of peace I’d gone to college, had my first boyfriend, held down my first job, met Howard, got engaged, got married, bought a house, had a baby, graduated from college, had a tumor removed, had another baby, moved to a bigger house, had the tumor removed again, and then had the tumor irradiated. I desparately needed a space for my life to stabilize. I needed to find a normalcy.

It was in this recovery time that I gained my love of gardening. I’d always liked flowers and wanted to grow them, but my need for peace was met in the hours I spent outside. Crocus bloomed during the last weeks of my irradiation and I found myself hungry for flowers. They symbolized warmth and hope and the end of dark times. That spring, summer, and fall I dug and planted and gardened as I never had done before. Kneeling down with my hands in the dirt I found a place of peace outside thought. I didn’t have to be a mommy. I didn’t have to ponder radiation. It was just me and the plants and the dirt and the weeds. Gardening was solace. It continues to be so, but my need for it is no longer as great. I’m pretty sure this is an additional reason that winter feels hard. I can’t get outside in the wintertime.

About halfway through my year of peace I snagged a once in a lifetime opportunity to go with Howard on a business trip to South Africa. We dropped the kids with my parents and left for 12 days. That was a beautiful experience that I’ll never forget. It deserves a series of entries all it’s own. The trip to Africa was a disruption of normalcy, but it fulfilled a long held dream of mine to travel to a foreign country. I’d like to go again or go somewhere else, but at least I’ve gone once.

Then in December of 1999 Howard had myocarditis which landed him in cardiac intensive care for three days. That was scary, but we survived. I may write about it in detail sometime. Between my radiation and Howard’s intensive care our insurance company must have hated us. They paid out about $35,000 on us that year. We paid out as close to nothing as makes no difference. Novell paid for some fantastic insurance coverage back then. The number of phone calls I had to make to get bills paid was annoying, but the bills were paid and not by me.

Despite the highlights of an African trip, a cardiac event, and MRI check ups (yet another story there), I feel like I got my year of peace. I got it because of all the quiet time I spent out in my yard and with my kids. By the time I’d passed the aniversary of the end of radiation I’d achieved a peace in my mind and heart. I was refreshed and ready to undertake new challenges. As soon as I had my third MRI clear of reocurrance we got pregnant with Gleek.