Walking Ghosts

I love the author John Berger. In his latest book, From A to X, he writes:

It's the small things which frighten us. The immense things, which can kill, make us brave.

Many people say I've been brave. Maybe so, but I was given an immense thing. I look at others going through chemo and radiation and admire their strength and courage. I was initiated into that club and remain a surviving member. It is quite an adventure on a long road. One of the many interesting people I've met during this experience was a woman who often waited in the radiation treatment room with me. She didn't need chemotherapy and had never been to that area of the clinic. She was afraid of the chemo infusion room. "The people there are like walking ghosts" she said.

I felt ghost-like at times. Straddling between two worlds. Lately, I have been gradually re-entering the land of the living each day. Two days ago, I took my first bicycle ride in over six months. It felt great even though I only rode a fraction of the distance I did last summer. Tomorrow morning, our daughter Susanne has invited me on an early morning hike. I work at home tomorrow and hike before work sounds much better than a bus ride. We'll hike the Lawndale trail pictured below.

Everyone says I look great now but I don't always feel that way. My mouth still burns and tastes metallic all the time. It has been nearly two months and the hair on the radiated side of my body still hasn't started growing back. No wonder I get fatigued with my damaged body still actively repairing itself. In two weeks I will receive a PET scan to look for any remnants of the tumors. Six months after that another one to make sure the cancer hasn't returned. I keep my fingers crossed and try to make every day special.