A Valentine's Day of I Love You's

Dear All,

As Valentine’s Day draws to a close, I sit here grateful for all the love in my life. I am doing well today. My appetite has really improved, and finally the bad effects of this last chemo round seem to have mostly lifted. To no surprise, my bloodwork two days ago came back confirming that yes, I am AGAIN, neutropenic - my white cells are at 0.1 - a testament to how strongly the chemo impacts my system and, specifically, my bone marrow. So, was given the usual series of shots I need to take to bolster white cell recovery in the time that remains before my next cycle, and was warned about being around anyone remotely sick. I am staying clear of shops and other public venues for a couple of days until I have more of a defense. James' sloppy, drooly kisses do not count in the "germ" category - they remain my best medicine and the highlights of my day.

I was thinking about the messages recently posted by many of you - one the theme of "connections", the other the theme of "collections". And I think that I really thrive on collecting connections - don't know what I would do without them, and mine seem to span distance and time, both local and far, given the nomadic life I have led to date. And of the many things this cancer journey has shown me, is how wonderfully strong and special and treasured those connections of mine are and what a beautiful collection they have become. This blog, the messages, the calls, the thoughts.... they are all testament to this. I have even grown very fond, in just a matter of weeks, of the team at the hospital that looks after me so well. There is Alex, the Irish senior nurse, whose bedside manner, humour, kindness, patience and efficiency have made my journey so far that bit easier – I owe him many of my “good days” when my time in hospital could have felt so bleak, and I owe him my peace of mind when I needed answers and information. There is the team of other nurses: Angela, always smiling and upbeat; Joe and Alejandro who never fail to ask after James and who have cared for me with gentleness; Aida and Risa whose efficiency has helped me through my hardest of treatment moments; Anne-Marie, John, Hillary and Judy who held my hand and soothed my soul as I lived through six days in intensive care; and Maria, who looked me in the eye and firmly stated “Girl Power, you can do it” when I started my first chemo cycle. There is Dr. Mohammed, who oversees the oncology ward, and is a soft-spoken physician that has witnessed and understands both my pain and my strength. And of course there is Dr. Plowman, my oncologist, my team leader who took both my hands as I cried through my diagnosis news and said, “Alessandra, do you hear me, I will get you into remission”. His no-nonsense attitude and yet nurturing manner hold my hope and my belief that I will beat this disease. These people are now an extended part of my family, and I feel lucky.

So, on this Valentine’s Day, my list of “I love you’s” and “thank you’s” abound. And I continue to collect connections with appreciation and gratitude. Happy Valentine’s Day to you all.