I've accomplished a lot, now that I think of it

The radiologist knew what he was talking about when he said I’d bottom out in about 2 weeks. Like a baked potato removed from the microwave and wrapped in foil to finish cooking, I kept feeling worse each day after the radiation was over. The burns on my neck got deeper and hurt worse. My mouth was so sore and my tongue felt raw. I couldn’t stand anything but liquids, and my appetite was nonexistent. For over a week I lived on one bottle of Ensure and part of a protein drink daily. Several times I went to bed thinking I might just die in my sleep, I felt so sick.

Wednesday, July 4, I turned the corner. For the first time I was able to eat some solid food – not a lot of food, mind you, but more than I’d eaten for weeks. For the first time I felt like doing something besides sleeping or just sitting.  It feels great to want to eat. I’ll be very glad when I also can taste what I’m eating! The dry mouth is a pain, but I’m getting used to chewing a small bite and then washing it down with a sip of water.

Now, to balance out my last post, I’ll make a list of what I HAVE done.

I’ve ridden a mule down to the bottom of the Grand Canyon on Bright Angel Trail, stayed the night at Phantom Ranch by the Colorado River, and ridden back up on the mule the next day on South Kaibab Trail.

I’ve visited the north rim of the Grand Canyon and hiked part of the North Kaibab Trail.

I’ve been to Japan, toured the island of Kyushu, ridden the bullet train, toured Tokyo, and visited the museum at Hiroshima. Ate my first sushi there.

I have swum in both sides of the Pacific Ocean, off California and off Japan.

I dipped my hands in the Atlantic (off Maine), but it was February so that's all.

I’ve been to Mazatlan in Mexico.

I’ve been across the border into Canada, and saw a bald eagle flying there.

I’ve been to Sea World in San Diego, and petted stingrays.

I’ve been to Sea World in San Antonio, and petted dolphins.

I have ridden an elephant.

I rode the train from Albuquerque to Topeka, Kansas, sat in the observation car the entire way, and saw a herd of elk run across the prairie.

So far, I have written 6 readable novels and at least another six that weren’t, two good novellas, 45 decent poems, and a lot of short stories that I threw away because they were awful.

I’m not sure how many items I’ve knitted as I give most away, but the categories include scarves, mittens, hats, socks, sweaters, washcloths, vests, leggings, shawls, afghans, long johns, and stuffed toys. So far.

I have hiked in Zion National Park, and Bryce Canyon.

I have been through Carlsbad Caverns several times, as well as lots of caves in Missouri, Arkansas, and South Dakota. Once at Carlsbad I stayed to watch the bats fly out at sundown.

I’ve see Mount Rushmore.

I’ve been through the Coors plant in Golden, Colorado, and the Crayola plant in Kansas. 

I've been to Silver Dollar City, Knott's Berry Farm, 6 Flags Over Texas. There I rode the roller coaster that loops the loop twice. I rode it 3 times, and kept my eyes open the second 2.

I’ve been up Pike’s Peak several times, by car and by the train.

I’ve been to Disneyland 3 times.

I have lived in 2 haunted houses.

I have lived in Kansas, Nebraska, South Dakota, Iowa, Colorado, Texas, and New Mexico.

Besides those, I have visited in Nevada, California, Arizona, Wyoming, Idaho, Ohio, Maine, Arkansas, Missouri, Oklahoma, Utah, Tennessee.

I graduated high school with 2 years on the Dean’s List, earned a Cum Laude BA in English Literature, and a Master’s in Library Science.

For over 20 years in my library career, I helped people improve their lives on a daily basis, and touched many children’s lives through storytimes.

I have shared my life with 2 dogs and 15 cats. So far. I have fostered about a dozen for Cat Rescue.

There is no way to count all the books I’ve read. It’s got to number in the thousands.

I have owned 2 homes, and been cheated out of my equity both times I sold them by unscrupulous real estate agents.

I have been married once.

I am now in the process of surviving cancer.

I may add to this list if I remember more later, but I think that’s most of the high points.

Alas, the bucket list

Life-threatening events are supposed to give a person a new appreciation for life. Maybe it’ll kick in after the unbelievable fatigue the radiation gives me wears off. Right now perhaps I’m in a grief stage, because all I can think about is all the things I wanted to do that I’ll never get to. My finances are gone and I’ll never be able to build them back up. If I can get out of the hole we’re in and out of debt, that alone will be a miracle. There will never again be extra money. I will never get to retire.

Since I did nothing to get this cancer in the first place, there is nothing I can do to keep it from recurring. I’m helpless. Being helpless makes me depressed. The depression starts the round of “I’ll never get to.”

Here’s my bucket list, that I’ll never get to:

I want to go to Egypt and see the pyramids and the sphynx.

I want to go to the British Isles and do a tour of castles, sit in pubs and listen to people talk in England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and the smaller islands, and buy beautiful yarn made from the sheep there.

I want to see Paris, climb the Eiffel Tower, see the Louvre.

I want to see Venice, and ride in gondolas, see Saint Mark’s Square and the Bridge of Sighs.

I want to see the Alps, and the beautiful Lake Cuomo.

I want to take a cruise, and see whales.

I’d like to see the northern lights.

I want to see Washington DC and other historic parts of New England.

I’d like to see New York City and browse the fabulous stores, and go to some shows.

I want to see the Smithsonian.

I want to see Key West and Epcot Center and Disney World, and take a guide boat through the Everglades.

I want to see Seattle and take the Highway 1 coast drive.

I want to go to Hawaii, Bora Bora, and Tahiti.

I want to own a home and make a fabulous garden.

I want the time to write all the books in my head even if no one ever reads them. Even if they’re crap.

I want the time to knit up all the yarn in my stash. I’d really like to take the courses to become a Master Knitter.

Right now what I want the most is to get through the last week of radiation therapy, then get my energy, saliva and sense of taste back so that I can job-hunt. I suspect my library career is over, considering that I’m losing my hearing and can no longer speak clearly. I have no idea what I can do for a living now. My most anxious hope is that I can get into a three-bedroom home so I can put all my husband’s clutter into his man-cave, and all mine into my study, and have a decent-looking house for a change, and get the rest of my belongings out of storage.