Hope.

Dear All,

A grey Sunday morning, and I am sitting here cosily sipping my cup of green tea while James is sound asleep in the peacefulness of his morning nap. A quiet day planned - some report writing, a walk in the park, giving James his first haircut, playing at home... "being". I head to the hospital this afternoon for bloodwork, in preparation for Cycle #6 of chemo tomorrow. I am feeling better stomach-wise, and my feet have passed yet another "burning stage", so they are now a burnt brown instead of firery red (very attractive...?!). My stitched foot has healed nicely at last, with about another 10% to go until I feel that that too, like so many other things, is behind me. Admittedly I am a bit anxious about tomorrow, only because Dr. Plowman and I will have the conversation of setting the date for the scans later this month... I remain very driven and optimistic, but I still have my moments when I fight off thoughts that don't belong in my life and which take my breath away... moments which then leave me as my inner voice shouts out loud, "You will do this!", comforting both the scared little girl inside and the resolute woman that I am.

On Friday night, my mother, sister and I went to the opening night of the theatre performance of the Shawshank Redemption. I have seen the movie version many times, and have always loved the story (not to mention the wonderful sound of Morgan Freeman's voice woven throughout). It is also Chiara's favourite movie of all time - she has seen it too many times to begin to count, has a copy of the book and of the screenplay, and is simply a big fan. My mother treated us both, and we all had a lovely evening. The play was beautifully put together and really well cast, and although we all knew the story by heart, it was great to see this "live" version, and see it all tied together from a different angle. A great "girls night out" - while we all dream of the future beyond the current stress of my predicament, we have adopted, as much as possible, a Carpe Diem attitude, and hence we embraced the silver lining that cancer has given me in having us three girls be together and be able to enjoy these pleasures.

For those of you who know the story, at the end of the play Red makes his way to join Andy in Mexico, revelling in the realisation that they are both free men and have a future to be excited about. He makes the following comment, "Remember that hope is a good thing... maybe the best of things... and no good thing ever dies". In the darkness of the audience, tears poured down my face as I heard those words, for their meaning resonated with me deeply. Those words are my own.

Hugs to all.