Long Awaited Final Posting
Here now is Sharon's final blog:
I want to be remembered, not as somebody who died, but as a woman who tried so hard to live. I love you all.
Thank you for taking this journey with me.
Love, Sharon
The story of Sharon Leming and her battle with ovarian leiomyosarcoma.
With much love and respect to all, I want to reiterate that this is not the time for a battle cry. I am resting, healing, and savoring the small joys of being home. I will rally again, when the time is right.
:-) Sharon
I can barely see out of that one eye now, so this will have to be very brief.
Here's a picture of me taken last night as I rested in my trusty old hospital bed. Can you see the tumor impinging on my eye? Well, if you've wondered why I haven't blogged, e-mailed, or texted much lately, there's the culprit. Because of it, my vision crossing very often, especially when I am looking at something close-range. I have to close one eye because I can't focus them together, and it makes typing very difficult. It looks like I may need to have it removed in the near future, and may very well become "the next thing" in my cancer journey.
My legs are feeling much more normal after several days of unusual weakness and tingling. Actually, I am a little embarrassed about that whole trip-to-the-emergency-room thing. Over time, I have learned to expect the worst when a new symptom pops us. There was an article online about PTSD in cancer patients, and it described it as "waiting for the other shoe to drop". That's a really accurate description of me these days. Instead of my old mantra, "ignore it and maybe it will go away", I seem to have adopted a new one: "oh, no, what now?" I know the "old me" wasn't very wise, or proactive, but I am not certain that I like this current self any better. I find that I am both gun shy and yet oddly trigger happy at the same time.
Thankfully, the "lowered dose" effect seems to be true again, and I am feeling a little better each day. My appetite is slowing returning, and my energy is much improved. My back is still hurting a lot, especially at night, and you know how paranoid I am about my spine. But the recent CT scans showed no growth in the spinal tumors, so I am hopeful that it is just cold weather or old age or bad luck of some sort that it keeps hurting. I know, I know. Eventually I will have to pursue it further if the pain doesn't stop. For now, I prefer to be optimistic.
It's hard to believe, but Don and I are packing again tonight, preparing for our trip on Sunday. We were smart enough to buy a set of luggage that is more suitable for airline travel, so hopefully things will be easier inside the airport. And I am happy to report that our much-less-expensive hotel has a refrigerator in the room, so we will be able to keep healthy snacks and soft drinks that don't cost $7 for 10 ounces.
Monday, so the preparations and adjustments to the new schedule have consumed most of our energies this week. With our quiet days, Don and I were able to clean the house, pay bills, run errands, and relax a little bit. They, on the other hand, are enjoying the new year and seeing their friends again. I am sorry that summer is over (for all practical purposes), but it's the natural order of things. One season rolls into another, and we are wise to embrace each one for its own beauty instead of longing for the one that just passed and can never be touched again.
The final one is a photo of Don and me getting ready for our tour of Warner Brothers studio lot. He helped me into the wheelchair-accessible cart, and then he sat on the seat right in front of me. We were the only ones on that particular cart, except for our guide. We learned a lot about the filming process, and had a great time on the tour. After we returned to the gift shop, Don bought himself a Warner Brothers cap and a coffee cup. He also bought me a pen with a top that is shaped like the outline of Sylvester the cat's face, proudly announcing from the checkout counter, "Look, Honey, I bought you a Batman pen!"Can you imagine trying to gather all of this information together? They are going to perform the monumental task of preparing a research study of the sum total of all of my treatments in the interest of developing better game plans for (a) me, and (b) future patients.
So, do you want to know what I did when I finally mustered up a few ounces of energy and wherewithal? Did I balance that checkbook or scrub a toilet? Nope. I cut out a quilt. I know, I know. A million things need to be done, and I am cutting out a quilt. But, as I said in justification to Don, it was the only thing I WANTED to do. I purchased the fabrics just before our trip for my first full-sized quilt project. I have always wanted to make a blue and yellow double Irish chain quilt. The combination of fabrics is just beautiful! I am working on my sample blocks now.
I know that my time would have been better spent on my to-do list, and I did manage to eventually knock quite a few items off of the list, in spite of a spate of unexpected visitors on Thursday AND the sudden demise of our hot water heater, which flooded our basement on the same day. I have now balanced the unwieldy checkbook, took my giant collection of coupons to the grocery store, cleaned the house to a more presentable degree, and dealt with the mail that needed responses. Still, my mind keeps going back to that stack of quilt squares, waiting for me in the sewing basket. As you know, I want to sew a full-sized quilt for each of our nine children before I -- while I'm -- oh, you know what I mean!
As I completed my 3-hour, 2-cart journey through the grocery store this afternoon, it occurred to me that I am still very much a player in the game of life. My greatest wish throughout all of this long ordeal has been that I continue living with the ordinary stuff of life. The fact that I am still here is an extraordinary gift that I try my best not to take lightly.
:-) Sharon
P.S. -- Mary from the airplane! It was great to hear from you again! Please e-mail me if you can so that I can have a way to contact you.
P.P.S. -- Pat from the grocery store! It was so nice to meet you today, and I look forward to getting together some time soon.
(See, folks, there are advantages to having your name written in giant Sharpie letters on the back of your wheelchair.)