As many of you might know, I am now half-way through chemotherapy treatment. I have had three rounds with three more to go, at the end of which I hope to be given a clean bill of health. I will know more at the beginning of May because I have a mid-cycle PET scan scheduled for April 30, and I’m looking forward to seeing if my lights have dimmed (lit-up areas in a PET scan indicate areas of concern; less light, less concern!).

Side effects are part of any treatment regimen, as we all know. I have a few. Hair loss is the most noticeable. I have lost about ¾ of my hair. It fell out in fistfuls after the first round of chemotherapy but slowed after the second round. My hair is incredibly thin now, but I haven’t reached a point where I want to shave my head. I keep it covered because it keeps my head warm and because, frankly, I don’t like how it looks. But I’m not upset about it. Hair loss indicates that the treatment is doing what it is supposed to do. I might have what little hair I have left trimmed to be shorter so that, once my hair starts growing back in, it might not look so ghastly.

It has been a long week. After receiving a precise diagnosis of Diffuse Large B Cell Lymphoma on March 1, my chemotherapy was able to start on Thursday, March 3. I was relieved because—after two long months—I finally knew what type of lymphoma I had, and I had a schedule for treatment. My relief was coupled with apprehension. I was about to embark on a road to recovery that involves having, in essence, poison pumped into my veins. R-CHOP is the gold standard for this type of lymphoma, and we have heard from others who had been similarly diagnosed and recovered with flying colors. But the week had more in store for me than I had bargained, and I hope to not have a repeat of it.

I have a theory, ill-formed and ill-informed as it may be. Back around 2016, I think our universe slipped into some type of black hole, tilting the earth on its axis in a different way than projected, and we have been living in this altered universe ever since. Between a weird presidential campaign, a raucous four years of politics, topped with a global pandemic, it has felt so completely different than “normal.” Of course, this is on a macro level. Is it abnormal or some type of new normal to which we are all adjusting? Right now, I’ll vote “abnormal.”

On a micro level, we bought our Airstream and brought her home in 2016, setting the course for full-time RV traveling, which we began in 2020 at the height of the beginning of the pandemic. Then, almost two years later, I was diagnosed with lymphoma (still don’t know the precise one!). What!?! I never, in a million years, would have thought I’d be diagnosed with that. I’m still grappling with it, knowing that my life as I’ve known it for the past two years is now completely on hold. The freedom I felt traveling this country with Carl and living in the Airstream has been taken from me by ruthless invaders in my body. The control I had over my everyday life has been snatched away as I wait for biopsy results, wait for treatment to begin, wait for the end of treatment, wait for a cure. Wait, wait, wait – somehow my new mantra.

I have been exploring holistic health and natural healing remedies for a few decades. In fact, I’ve spent a good amount of time “self-diagnosing” myself for many years and using holistic healing approaches to help whatever ails me. Part of this was born out of necessity. We have always had health insurance, but it was the high-deductible/large out-of-pocket type because it was the most affordable plan for our family. We rarely saw a doctor for anything and, thankfully, have been relatively healthy most of the past 20+ years.

On top of that, I have played the “if I ever ______, this is what I’d do” game. We have all done it at one time or another, whether it be in the workplace, at home, about our health, or about the car who cut us off in traffic. “If I ever had cancer, I’d take this supplement and that supplement and the other. I’d request alternative healing approaches. I might even seek out holistic health facilities that focus on the type of cancer I have.” Etcetera and so forth.

Sometimes, we win the game. Sometimes, we lose. Sometimes, we don’t even need to play.

Gratitude… Something we feel and/or express when a kindness has been bestowed upon us. Whether it is the gentle touch of a warm breeze, the sight of vibrant flowers or incredible waterfalls, or receiving a gift from someone we love, we are momentarily blissed and blessed. Or maybe gratitude is when we remind ourselves of the beauty that surrounds us, the people we encounter, or the friends and family we love. I often remind myself how blissed and blessed we have been to be full-time RV travelers, visiting exquisite parts of this country.