There's a tradition amongst the informal bicycle group to which I belong, of celebrating New Years Day with a bike ride. Now I've never joined in on these rides before, as they a) involve getting up early New Years Day, b) riding a bike in snow, c) or in slush, d) or in rain, e) or in cold, f) or possibly all of these at once. This year I thought I might go a little crazy and try a New Years Day ride. This would be a challenge for me, as I am at age 52, the youngest member of the group that would be riding! Despite the coolness of the fine rain that morning, I got on my GT mountain bike, adjusted my helmet, snugged up my jacket, and rode off to greet the first day of 2012.
I made it to the end of my driveway. Turns out my pedaling was simply free-wheeling and the gears were not engaging. Undaunted, my GT was replaced by my trusty road bike, the venerable Raleigh Super Grand Prix. So it was a cool damp morning when the RSGP and I joined up with five other brave souls as we enjoyed our official First Ride of the New Year.
But January 2012 wouldn't be just be crazy rain-drenched bike riding, no, there'd be fun medical things, like Port Flushes and visits to the eye doctor. The Port Flush was routine: I sit in a chair, I get the Port site swabbed with a sterilizing agent, and a rather formidable sized needle is plunged into the site. Blood comes out, blood goes back in. Routine. My Port flushes are scheduled monthly for the duration that I have the Port in me. The eye appointment however, was something that started off unplanned...
My vision sucks. Without glasses I'm blind. With glasses I'm not much better. My right eye was operated on (twice) as a kid for 'Lazy Eye'. Now it's more like 'catatonic eye', since it just sits there not doing anything for my vision. So I was mightily concerned a few months ago when I started noticing these strange streaks of light, a slow-moving jagged line of meandering light crossing across my field of vision. I was more than concerned, I was scared. Few things terrify me more than losing my vision. I have learned to deal with Cancer, but I really don't know what I would do if I lost my sight. So off I went to get it checked. One theory is that it's an indication of impending retinal detachment. Another theory is that it's just the eye readjusting normally due to age, the "jelly" of the eye shrinking a bit. Normal for me is a relative term in matters of my health these days. My doctor was thorough, and she made sure that my anxieties were addressed. My vision -such as it is- remains unchanged, and there appears to be no immediate concerns with the retina. I'll have another follow up in six months. If there are any problems between now and then I'll just deal with it. It is a sad reality however, that every ache, every pain, every discernible change in my general health always makes me wonder if I should be worried that the Cancer is back.
I barely remember the events of this first month of January, 2012. I had stopped writing in my personal hand-written journal some time ago, so I have to concentrate really hard to discern one day from another. Perhaps it's time to resume that means of recording the events in my life. There's a certain sense of self-realization through writing, made intimate by the hand-written word. Continuity of thought -from brain to arm to hand to pen to paper, flowing and uninterrupted. Whereas typing (for the touch typist in me at least) seems to require a slight disconnect as each letter is discovered on the keyboard, and the synthesis of word and thought takes place after the fact.
Regardless of the mechanics of writing, I'll continue to post as long as I'm on this journey. I have blood work and a visit with my oncologist in late February. I have another Port Flush and a follow up with my surgeon as well. I've met my medical goals, I've accomplished some of my work goals, now I have to accomplish my personal goals. I feel OK, just want to stay that way.
