Thoughts from a tennis player and runner who ran right into leukemia
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Test result
The MRI came back clean.
Yes, there is nothing in my brain!
You know, nothing bad in there. I still don't feel as well as I did just a few weeks ago. I guess I'll just carry on. The weather is finally nice here, so I'm going to take a walk in the sunshine with the dog.
11 comments:
Jonny
said...
Ronni -- You're not alone -- Ralph Cramden once responded to Alice's jab on the Honeymooners that he was mentally ill with:
"Alice, dozens of psychiatrists have looked in here (pointing to his head) and you know what they found...NOTHING!!!"
I don't know if you ever look back at the comments, but if you do: I lost your e-mail and when I type in various versions of your name nothing comes up. So could you send it to me?
Hooray for nothing! As for not feeling as well as you did a few weeks ago, could it be the onset of allergies? I know I started feeling a little fuzzy 2 weeks ago, right before everything within a half mile of me exploded into life.
Well Ronni, they obviously missed the freak-out centre in your (and every other cancer patients') brain! Plenty of bad freaky stuff in there (big grin)
(Really glad it all came back normal - as expected!)
One of the challenges of recovery after transplant is that it is rarely a straight downhill toward the best you'll be. There are ups and downs. Which necessarily means dealing with uncertainty: Is this rough day a speedbump, a small hill, or the foot of a mountain?
Since we can't know, the task of Healthy Survivors is doing what we can to stay healthy (which you are already doing) and finding a way to quiet the need-to-know, so we can embrace today.
For me, once I know I'm doing what I can to get or stay healthy, I tell myself, "I can't know, so I don't want to know. I'll let go of trying to figure it out, so the uncertainty doesn't steal simple joys that are available today."
Easier said than done, but it can be done. With hope, Wendy
Ronni, I am having so much trouble with shortness of breath. It is so very frustrating. I have to move slowly and at work when coworkers keep going I have to stop a minute or two. My blood tests show the anemia persists and some other issues. My point is it takes a very long time to recover from something that takes such a toll on you. You have come so far but please be patient. We are not kids anymore and our healing takes longer.
I agree with so many of these comments - you have been through so much and the rebuilding process is a long one. As always, I know it's easier for me to say than you because I've been through nothing that compares. But just sit for a minute and visualize where you were last year at this time...Coming to my house after almost 4 months in the hospital, you could not walk up the stairs unassisted (now you are out every day walking, trying yoga, hitting a few tennis balls), you could not sit at the table for long, you could barely eat anything (now you are in search of daily pancakes), and on and on. You are resilient, you are powerful, and you are moving forward in the only manner possible - one day, one step, one blessing at a time.
11 comments:
Ronni -- You're not alone -- Ralph Cramden once responded to Alice's jab on the Honeymooners that he was mentally ill with:
"Alice, dozens of psychiatrists have looked in here (pointing to his head) and you know what they found...NOTHING!!!"
There's alot to be said for "nothing".
Good News! Jonny
Wonderful news!
Hey Jonny,
You are very funny!
I don't know if you ever look back at the comments, but if you do: I lost your e-mail and when I type in various versions of your name nothing comes up. So could you send it to me?
Hooray for nothing! As for not feeling as well as you did a few weeks ago, could it be the onset of allergies? I know I started feeling a little fuzzy 2 weeks ago, right before everything within a half mile of me exploded into life.
Well Ronni, they obviously missed the freak-out centre in your (and every other cancer patients') brain! Plenty of bad freaky stuff in there (big grin)
(Really glad it all came back normal - as expected!)
Dear Ronnie,
One of the challenges of recovery after transplant is that it is rarely a straight downhill toward the best you'll be. There are ups and downs. Which necessarily means dealing with uncertainty: Is this rough day a speedbump, a small hill, or the foot of a mountain?
Since we can't know, the task of Healthy Survivors is doing what we can to stay healthy (which you are already doing) and finding a way to quiet the need-to-know, so we can embrace today.
For me, once I know I'm doing what I can to get or stay healthy, I tell myself, "I can't know, so I don't want to know. I'll let go of trying to figure it out, so the uncertainty doesn't steal simple joys that are available today."
Easier said than done, but it can be done. With hope, Wendy
To the tune of: "There is Nothing like a Dame...."
There is nothing in your brain!
Except for brilliant mind...
Nothing that causes pain
that is anything near your Brain!
Sorry i have been out of touch, am in intense pet-caregiver mode for one of my beloved cats in my pamily!
I know that you know that you are ever in my thoughts...and always in my heart...
xop
Ronni,
I am having so much trouble with shortness of breath. It is so very frustrating. I have to move slowly and at work when coworkers keep going I have to stop a minute or two. My blood tests show the anemia persists and some other issues. My point is it takes a very long time to recover from something that takes such a toll on you. You have come so far but please be patient. We are not kids anymore and our healing takes longer.
That's great!!! e
I agree with so many of these comments - you have been through so much and the rebuilding process is a long one. As always, I know it's easier for me to say than you because I've been through nothing that compares. But just sit for a minute and visualize where you were last year at this time...Coming to my house after almost 4 months in the hospital, you could not walk up the stairs unassisted (now you are out every day walking, trying yoga, hitting a few tennis balls), you could not sit at the table for long, you could barely eat anything (now you are in search of daily pancakes), and on and on. You are resilient, you are powerful, and you are moving forward in the only manner possible - one day, one step, one blessing at a time.
Love you,
Diane
Good news for all us airheads...
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