In the Stars

Thank you all for your encouraging, caring and sweet words. I'll tell ya, I wouldn't wish my life right now on my worst enemy, maybe on my ex, but not my worst enemy. Your rays of hope are bright spots in my darkest moments.

I'm fascinated sometimes by how dead on my horrorscope can be. Today is one of those days:

A chance to show someone just how much you have learned will arise tonight. After some weeks of recreation and lack of focus, there is a clarity about what you need to get done right away. All other tasks in your life will lessen in importance.

I have blown off so many things lately. I just haven't had the motivation or inclination to care. Sure, I've put out a couple bonfires, but there are smoldering piles all around me. Clarity and focus is something I need right now and I hope the stars are right.

Cuddles is almost completely back to her old self. The injury theory was probably right. She's jumping on her recliner without a problem and I even found her on my bed over the weekend. She isn't sleeping beside my bed anymore and she's vocally demanding fresh water and food. Cuddles has this thing about not liking the water when the dish is half empty and will squawk at me until I change it for her. This sometimes means two or three times a day instead of once. Maybe if she didn't constantly play in the water with her litter dirty paws I wouldn't need to, but, I don't mind.

I've saved the best for last. Dad called this morning. They went into Boston yesterday for a follow up on the Gamma Knife. Although it wasn't a double contrast CT scan, the Doc couldn't find anything on it.

Let me say that again: THE DOC COULDN'T FIND ANYTHING ON IT.

I asked about the two that they couldn't previously treat and Dad said they didn't show up on the scan. "The Doctor looked rather puzzled, as if to say "Why are you here?". Mom & Dad are very happy with the news.

Yes, this is great news. So, why doesn't this make me as happy as it should? I'm afraid to get my hopes up. Every time I do - the other shoe drops and it devastates me again. My brain knows that it's illogical (sheesh - I sound like a Vulcan) to live life like this. My heart knows that there has to be difficult and painful times in life, if for nothing less than to appreciate the easy joyous times. Someone once said to me; anyone can do the easy times, it's how you weather the tough times that matter.

If only they could perform Gamma Knife on areas of the body besides the brain.

I know that our tough times are still not over. I need to temper my joy at the good news because the dark beast is still growing and spreading in Dad's chest. This ray of good news shining through is the light I need to focus on tasks at hand and give me some clarity.

May the stars continue to shine bright.


Clarification: In speaking with Mom last night I found out that there are still a couple tumors visible, but, they are "stable or shrinking". Although the CT scan wasn't 100% clear this is still good news. Dad goes back in three months for another follow up.