Thoughts on a snowy morning.

I woke up this morning to this beautiful scene of my patio... James' first glimpse of snow, which he reacted to with wide eyes, drool and an excited babble. Julian and I smiled as we both said it reminded us of Boston. And we laughed out loud as we watched the news on television that announced that the city's trains are at a standstill. Bostonians would be mocking us if only they knew what panic 10 inches of powder can wreak on the poor Brits....

Hard to believe that round #3 of chemo is in 48 hours. I have been anxious this weekend, despite my pep talks to myself. A combination of knowing what is in store (ignorance was bliss to some degree first time around) and hoping so badly to continue to see the chemo's tangible/visible effect on my cancer. Chiara, as always, talks me through those times in the wonderful way that only she knows how - factual (yes, you have cancer, and you have to accept it), nurturing (your body is healing with every day, just look at the ground you have covered already), patient (your recovery will take time, give yourself time to heal, it won't happen overnight), and loving (we are with you all the way, and we just know you're going to make it). Mum and Julian too are the most wonderful of morale boosters, and my father (an experienced master of the webcam) starts and closes my day with affection from afar. I am the luckiest of people to have that team, not to mention all the friends and family whose presence I feel all the time. I just need to get my mind under better control when, as the Brits say, it "throws a wobbly", while also learning to do what I still find so hard - letting go of control!

My cup of green tea awaits, as James looks at me with his big blue eyes, and smiles.