A Slight Improvement

Today, for the first day, I saw an improvement. The tremble is not gone, and my fingers still don’t have the dexterity they used to, but the shaking is subsiding slightly. I do not have to give my right side my full attention to do a simple task. I have to pay attention, but the concentration required is less. That is a huge relief and I feel better knowing that there is an improvement, no matter how small.

The headaches continue and are the worst a few hours after my radiation treatment. I find that if I just take a few pain pills and lay still for a couple of hours they will lessen and then again in the morning when I wake, I take my meds and lay for an hour or so and let the healing wash over me. I have been up for a few hours now and my head has a dull ache, but nothing that can’t be dealt with, nothing like it was last night, or may be tonight after today’s treatment.

The treatment is uneventful. It is so hard to believe that just a mere 10 seconds on each side of my head could do so much damage, or so much cure, depending on the perspective. Those little beams are hopefully destroying the tumors and keeping any further tumors from developing. Between that and the methotrexate last week, I am praying there is some serious healing going on in my brain and in no time at all I’ll be back up and around, back to my life, back to those I love so much.

In the meantime, I rest, I think, I pray and I do all I can to keep a smile. I try to enjoy the sunshine when it beams down on me, or recline into the sounds of the rain outside my window. I am walking everyday and Mike has been so patient to lessen his gait to my slow shuffle that allows me to enjoy the sights and sounds along the river. I hold his arm and drag my feet along like a little old lady; a small glimpse into what I hope is a very distant future that I long to live to see.

One day, one moment. That is what I have, that is what I live for, that is the fabric of my life. This is my battle to be won, and win it I will. I do not understand the wisdom of allowing my life to be filed with this peril, but am confident that there is a plan behind it all, no matter how obtuse or obscure. God has a plan. I just can’t see it now, and I may never be able to see it. I just have to trust that it is there. And trust I do. With all my heart, with all that I am. I trust in God to get me through to the next step, wherever that step may take me.