Music and Dancing.

Dear All,

I have Melody Gardot (Album: "My One and Only Thrill") playing in the background... a jazz singer who I came across one morning while listening to the BBC breakfast news. I love her sound - her music is soothing to me, and although some of her tunes have a melancholy tone, I find them comforting. Hers is a story of success over adversity, and I guess it strikes a chord with me. She began composing music when in hospital for months as a result of being hit by a car while riding her bicycle. She went through gruelling physical and cognitive rehab, and found strength in music therapy. Her recovery, while still a work in progress, has been amazing, and her music a testament to determination and creating opportunity from crisis. So, she is "with me" this morning, as I sip my cup of green tea. I have also been listening to the Kenyan Boys Choir, which I also recommend. Simple and uplifting in its rhythms, powerful and touching in its tones, I again am drawn to the story behind the music and find companionship in the positivity that underlies every note.

I have been emotional the past couple of days. Tearful in releasing the combination of fear and hope that live in me. I would say that my hope grows with every day, as I see the physical signs of improvement. In the past, I used to always say, "I shouldn't get my hopes up"... but heck, I now live constantly hoping, willing that hope, envisioning hope, owning that hope as tangibly as I can. I made a pact with myself that I would stop feeling for the tumors in my breast and armpit... but I can see that they are all but disappearing. I cry as I type these words, because the hope is so overwhelming, as I tell myself that it is okay, it is more than okay, to witness the improvements and to dare to hope that this momentum will continue, and that my steps forward will become all the more permanent in the shifting sands of this journey. I want this so badly, so very badly. I did a victory dance in the bathroom after my shower as I stood in front of my mirror and bore witness to the fighter that I am - I still have dark big scars on my chest where my lung tubes were inserted, I still have the bruise on my breast (believe it or not) where they first did my biopsy in December, I have chemo burns on my face, my hands, my feet, I have my portacath bulging from below my collarbone, I have markings all over my arms and thighs from the shots and needles that I get on a regular basis, I have fuzz on my head and the beginnings of eyebrows and eyelashes again, I am skinny... but I shouted to that tired and wounded fighter, "You are doing this! You are in recovery!"... and the fighter smiled back at me, through the tears ... and danced the victory dance.

All your posts, your love, your support, your messages, are the music that plays as I do that dance. Words cannot express how grateful I am for that, and how much each and every note that you all play carries me forward. I not only have amazing troops... my troops are a wonderful choir.