Journal entry by cindy trelstad —
Friends: My how time flies. I haven't touched base since last February and I apologize for that. I have been
so stable, and doing so well, that I haven't kept in touch.
September 28, 2021, was the third anniversary of my diagnosis. I remember the day well. I went
to the ER complaining of fatigue. I was told I had leukemia and promptly went into a rage,
proclaiming that leukemia was a hoax, and all I needed was a good strong dewormer. I was
sure their lab tests had miscounted my blood cells, and demanded a recount. I was convinced
that their lab equipment had been infected by a recent meteorite. It all seemed rational to me.
Now, three years later, I am still on the same chemotherapy, and doing very well. I still have one
week of infusions every 28 days, see the Nurse Practitioner monthly and my main oncologist
rarely. Not that I don't like the guy, but who wants to see a doctor when you feel well.
After the last post, I had my second vaccine. Several months later, I had my antibodies checked
twice. Both tests showed no antibody levels. I am essentially unvaccinated.
In the last post, I told you about Camp Cindola. Well, I major league goofed on that one. I
misspelled the names of the camp and camp director. It should have been CINDOLIA. How
can a missed "I" be so important? I knew I was in trouble when a porta-potty was moved
into the bedroom, and a deadbolt put on the door. The strong quarantine probably
saved me.
The Director and I do stay busy together: streaming TV, doing jig saw puzzles, going on walks, and
doing yoga. Mostly, we argue about whether the cat should stay inside or go out. She is
a dedicated hunter, having virtually wiped out the animal population of NE Portland. Birds,
mice, rats, even a snake don't have a chance. I want her to concentrate on Homeland Security
and not consider me a possible treat.
The 1937 Chrysler Airflow I worked on for three years has returned to its home. My
nephews and I continue to plug away on the 1929 Hudson. And I have a new project: a
1966 Porsche 912. These car projects keep me busy and make the lock down acceptable.
Without antibodies, I rarely go into any building. I do go out to eat, but always eat outside. Long
distance travel is out. I worry about getting close to anyone. Vaccinated people can still
carry and spread the virus. I think of my grandchildren as potential petrie dishes because of
exposure at school.
As you can readily sense, I'm tired of dealing with this virus. I want it to go away. Nevertheless,
I feel very fortunate and look forward to every day.
A $25 donation to CaringBridge powers a site like Don's for two weeks. Will you make a gift to help ensure that this site stays online for them and for you?