The leaves outside the nursery window have changed from green to yellow to yellow-tinged-with red. The acorns have fallen off the trees at the playground, and the sidewalks in our neighborhood are littered with maple and oak. We have had a long and pleasant autumn in D.C. this year, and I have enjoyed almost every moment of it.
Defying earlier expectations and the outcomes of some with my disease, I have not only survived but become more healthy this fall. I can now go to playdate in the morning, and, after nap, play with my children and perhaps do a load of laundry in the afternoon. I can feed my baby formula — from a cup — and pick him up and cuddle him when he’s done. I can cook him bite-sized vegetables (he just started eating peas and carrots today — and he loves them!), and play with both the boys over a long lunch. I can go out to dinner with my husband, and put my baby or little boy to bed when we come home.
My tumor is shrinking. The inflammation is much less, the redness subdued, and the weight much lighter. The swelling is going down. My chest still hurts, but the pain is more controllable and has lessened greatly. I’m still nauseated, but nothing like I was in August. I’ve lost my appetite, but I remember what foods I like and I can certainly make myself eat when I must. My nose and stomach are not yet healed, but I can keep food down now and I’ve stopped losing weight.
My hair — even my hair — is starting to grow back. This afternoon, as I was putting Widget down for nap, he pulled my cap off, looked critically at me, and asked, “Mom, is dat new hair?” I smiled and said yes, for there is new peach fuzz all over my scalp, coming in thick and strong. He looked again, thought, and asked, “It grow long again?”
Yes, honey, it will.
As I rocked your little brother to sleep tonight, I noticed that the leaves outside the nursery are still changing. I am determined to be here to watch them come back in the spring.