March 12 - 42 Days of Spring

I sat on the rocking chair on the front porch and watched the lightning storm in the distance. I needed more time to digest all that I was told by my doctor at the University of Chicago. I had just got home from the clinic where I was told that I had 6 weeks to live without treatment. With chemotherapy, I may live another 6 weeks. The doc was honest with me. He doubted that I would see Summer. He did say, it is possible for me to live a year, but the odds were against me. It appeared that my bone marrow function is shutting down. The blasts in the bloodstream increased 6 fold in just two weeks which indicates bone marrow failure. At some point, my white and red blood cells and my platelets will start to drop more than they have already. I asked him how I might die and he went into a few scenarios - all of which would be rather fast and easy to bare. I might not need hospice care. My leukemia nurse was a little more hopeful. She reminded me that I just survived a potentially fatal infection. My body has learned to adapt to extremely low blood counts. That could help me get me a little more time out of life.
Strangely, I am calm and accepting. Sure, I'm sad. But life has been good to me. Since I met Debbie, almost seven years ago, it's been wonderful. I have enjoyed my time on earth. It could have been a little longer, but it sure couldn't have been any better.
On Monday, I'll start a new chemotherapy drug. If that doesn't work, there is another one that can be tried.
I hope to get the full 12 weeks of Spring and, if lucky, I might get even more.

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I went kayaking for the first time this year on Friday morning even though my infectious disease doctor warned me against it. She told me that the dirty river water could easily get into my open wound and cause another serious infection that my body may not be able to handle. The risk is rather minimal since I'm already destined to kick the proverbial bucket in just a few weeks. I resumed my hobby of being "the Kankakee River Litter Picker" by picking up cans, bottles, jugs and bags that were on the water's edge. I also picked up an inner tube and 8 tires dumped in the woods. One tire was there so long that an eight foot tree was growing right from the middle of it. I lifted the tire as high as I could, then I bent the tree down so that I could get the tire off. It wasn't an easy task, but it was sort of fun to do. I sure get my kicks in strange ways. Some people like fishing. I like litter pickin'. Go figure!
The picture below was taken on June 4, 2008 by a fisherman named Jerry at Ponderosa Lake. I was diagnosed the day before with Myelodysplastic Syndrome.

It seems that whenever I am troubled, I head to the water to be near Nature. Somehow, it comforts me.