One year and nineteen days ago, I staggered into the ER at New York Methodist Hospital in Park Slope, Brooklyn, wondering what the hell was making me so exhausted.  As faithful readers will remember, I was running out of blood. Lymphoblasts were crowding my bone marrow and blocking production of the cells we all need to survive.  Leukemia.   It still doesn’t seem real. That first night in the ICU, I resolved that I would not die yet.  I still had to go to Scotland. Four days later, chemo started. A couple weeks after that I was bald.

In the midst of all of that, my dad had bronchitis, then broke his hip. and spent time in and out of the hospital, a senior care facility and as always, under the watchful care of my sister.  I wasn’t able to make it home to see him last year since my depleted immune system could not handle a plane trip.  I negotiated with Dr. G. for a trip this July, and she relented after she learned of his deteriorating condition (she never gave me clearance to ride the subway, but I disobeyed that order a few weeks ago).

My annual Fourth of July trip came off without a hitch this time, and I got to spend a whole week with my Dad.  He wasn’t doing well, declining daily.  He had four seizures one morning, and it was the first time I ever saw fear in his eyes.  It was heartbreaking to behold.  He was gone a week later.  

When I returned to NYC, I learned one of my dearest friends was also close to the end; a savagely quick pancreatic cancer was shutting down his organs. The day after my father died, I raced to Long Island to visit him in the hospital.  It was the last time I ever saw him.  He was gone two days later.

And other friends have been losing loved ones, and it seems like that’s going to be happening now.  “We’re getting to that age,” we say.  And we are.  I still have one more lumbar puncture to go, vaccinations to get, and blood to monitor.  I will never be free of doctors again, but that’s part of my life now.

So I try to take my losses and steel my resolve to do the things I want to do with my life.  And I booked a ticket to Scotland.

So Slainte and Mòran taing!  Good health to you all and many thanks for all of the support.