Memorial Day

Maybe we can use Memorial Day as a multi-purpose day. A day to remember our veterans, but a day for new beginnings as well. Sort of like New Year's, but with the added bonus of good weather and people already focused on an issue. Is it wrong to ask the vets to share? Would they share knowing that we're embroiled in a battle of our own? I'd be willing to share my birthday with cancer patients if it was for their good fortune.

It's a beautiful day in Wisconsin. Jim is feeling better thanks to a healthy dose of Vicodin and Ambien. He got almost a full night's sleep last night. He's off to the clinic today to get a shot of Neulastin, the drug that increases his white blood cell count.

He's very, very tired, but not sick. His stomach (abdomen, to be exact) is in a tremendous amount of pain from the chemo. He's contemplating whether or not we can make the drive up North. He's got his compression stockings. Driving up North won't change his physical symptoms, but it might help mentally.

There's something about the air up North - it's - fresher. And...better. And...smells like pine. If he decides to make the drive, we'll stop every hour and just take a break. He'll need the movement to ensure that we don't cause any more blood clots in his legs. But right now, it just seems that getting out of the house would be a mental blessing. Our house is great, but having to sit on the same couch, day after day, with his leg propped up, is not good. At least if we go up North he'd be sitting on a boat with his leg propped up.

I'm using Memorial Day to remember our vets, but also to renew my faith that Jim will be healed. We will have a miracle. We will prevail. Sometimes it's tough to admit we're sad. Admitting that we're sad almost seems like admitting that we're not winning, even if that isn't the case. Of course we'll have weeks when we're down. But today, I choose happiness. I choose hope. I choose to remember our vets, support our troops, and support the troops in our own personal journey toward victory.