July 19th. My oncologist came in to talk to me right before the third infusion. We discussed going forward with the same reduced dose—80% of a regular chemo dose and 50% of the bone marrow drug. He said, casually: “Even with chemo, there are no guarantees. So, we want to balance the treatment with the quality of life.” How do we go about life with “no guarantees”? Was there a guarantee before January 27th when my biopsy had come back positive? Is there ever a guarantee for anything in life? We go about our days without thinking about it, until and unless it confronts us. I certainly pushed away any thoughts of that sort for 50 years. And I’d gladly have continued, except it’s no longer an option. Intellectually, I understood a while ago that life is open-ended, and we can’t really predict the future, individual or collective. I have witnessed this to be true, but at least in my personal life I have mostly paid attention when things turned out more spectacular than I could have imagined. And they have, many times, for which I’m grateful. My mind tried to protect itself by not looking into the other side. Again, it’s about balance.
When I experienced severe burnout in 2018, many people who knew my personal history asked, “why now?” Things felt positive and stable, seemingly nothing was about to evoke a crisis. Back then it was stability that allowed space for my body to tell its story, what it had been through over the previous 25 years. I’m thinking about this now. I can attest that initiating and going through two immigrations and achieving full professorship has been easier than the process I’m going through now. It required leaving the familiar, changing, building, creating, taking risks—doing. A c-word journey is about releasing fears, anxiety, anguish; developing trust in the process; grappling with the unknown; accepting uncertainty—being. The doing part is often much easier.
It’s a blessed 77F (about 25C) and light breeze. It’s day 3 of the third chemo cycle. I’m sitting on my patio, sensing a beautiful mixture of our Sorbonne lilies’ fragrance mixed with basil. A tough day. I’m taking as many steps as I can, carrying my phone around to count them, and at times the phone feels too heavy. But I want to focus on the blessed part. Between March and October, I’m living in a flowery cycle: daffodils, lilacs, lily-of-the-valley, peonies, lilies, and roses. Yellow, white, purple, pink, burgundy, lavender, orange, red are popping up around the yard creating a symphony of colors.
Day 7 of the third cycle. I’m meditating under my maple tree. Light breeze touches my skin, I smell freshly cut grass, and even the sound of a lawnmower somewhere in the neighborhood is harmoniously integrated into this peaceful moment. Peaceful moments are acutely precious these days. It was supposed to be a heat wave and instead the unexpected rain washed the heat away. Not only did Nature water our flowers, bushes, and trees but as a dessert, it showcased a double rainbow, right above our yard. This time around I couldn’t see the full rainbow (sometimes there appears a bridge, or even a double bridge over our house and our street) but it was a tremendous gift, nevertheless.
By day 10 I’m feeling much better, not in small part thanks to my minerals and nutrients regimen, as well as weekly massage and acupuncture treatments. Instead of exclusively admiring my own yard and garden, I can finally venture to nearby parks. I tremendously enjoy the pine trees and the lake in Shaver’s Creek. Every time there is a surprise there for us. This time around it was a white egret. Never saw them here before. Penn State Arboretum is another favorite. The colors, the fragrance, the harmony of the trees, bushes, flowers, bees, butterflies never get old for me. This time I saw two green hummingbirds there for the first time. And then there is Spring Creek. I fell in love with State College in Spring Creek Park exactly 21 years ago. Thankfully, some things never change. The sound of the water, the birds chirping, the green leafy trees and the mountain in the backdrop—paradise on Earth. Moving through, counting my blessings.
Katerina Bodovski Writings 