Thursday, August 18, 2016

Tall Hopes and Tall Ships

Today I wrap up in Rochester. I'll have my exit interview with the Transplant Team this morning, followed by a conversation with Dr Buadi (freshly back from Ghana), who will go over my status and give me final instructions for resuming my normal life, or as close as I can come to it at this time. It's a conversation I'm keenly looking forward to.

As it happens, our return to Duluth coincides exactly with the arrival of the tall ships (a flotilla of at least eight classic ships powered by sail) in Duluth, triggering a celebration that will extend through the weekend and is expected to attract 300,000 tourists. Ugh. 

While traffic arteries may be clogged, that will not undermine my good mood. Regardless of what's happening on the water, I'll be coming home to complete my recovery and to start my new life as a cancer survivor. I'm ready.

Gradually, I've been able to overcome residual aftereffects of my treatment: persistent nausea, lingering diarrhea, and a balky appetite. Each day I've gotten stronger. It's been great having Jo join the care team from Las Vegas for this final push, giving Susan a break from cooking and gaining her complimentary help in managing the obscure pop culture clues in the daily New York Times crossword puzzles. (While Jo didn't think she'd be much help, it's turned that where she's strong is exactly where Susan and I falter.)

Last evening we ate dinner with Randy and Jerry, a couple from Grand Marais (on the North Shore) who have been in Rochester since February as Jerry battles the ravagement of Agent Orange, which he was exposed to in Vietnam 40 years ago. Susan became friends with Randy 20 years ago when they were both working in the art gallery world, and the friendship has continued. Jerry is at Mayo's with the blessing of the Veterans Administration (who can't do as much for him a this point as Mayo's can), and it's a tough road for him, facing infusion therapy every day with no end in sight.

It was delightful to be in the presence of their grace and hopeful attitude. Very uplifting. If possible, Susan and I will try to manufacture a reason to visit Randy and Jerry in their second home in Truth or Consequences NM (quite the contrast with Grand Marais). I had once visited the River Bend spa and hot springs in town (right on the banks of the Rio Grande River), and would love to do so again with Susan. Perhaps next April, when the calendar says it's spring but the outdoor gods in Duluth laugh at such folly.

Today I stand with tall hopes and am ready to sail into my post-treatment future.

2 comments:

Rosemary Wyman said...

Wow. Already a force of nature, now you have a very valuable lenses of awareness that will help you in every facet of life; particularly perhaps your work where youth and age rub fiercely against each other at times, or where people don't stop to look into what could be their future in community settings. Happy Birthday, Laird.

Becca Krantz said...

Just catching up on your blog and CaringBridge after a challenging week. I'm so glad to hear things are progressing in good directions and that you are home! "Cancer survivor" is a label I have not yet become comfortable with myself, partly, I think, because of the uncertainty; partly becauseit seems strange to add badges of pride when I'm trying to learn to be more humble; and partly because "cancer treatment survivor" feels more apt in my case (and yours has been and will be much more grueling); but in any case may it be an accurate descriptor of you (and me) for many, many years to come.