In Stem Cell Transplant world, one marks time from day zero, the day of the transplant.  Day 100 is held out as a recovery benchmark and the predictable return of full immunity and energy.  I am halfway there!  This past week at an appointment with my oncologist (who makes me happy just because I found out he skateboards through the oncology unit) okayed me to drive in town, go outside without an N95 mask, be further than an hour from the hospital, and order takeout from restaurants.  All this, along with the release of being tethered to an oxygen tank, has made me giddy with freedom.  Other signs of health include restlessness, reading instead of napping or watching tv all day, eating enough, making bread again, and no small amount of concern about what I should wear once I go out into the world. How far will overalls take me?  My doctors all caution me that my greatest danger is in forgetting that I am still recovering.  I am getting antsy.  My cue ball head is a reminder of who I am, someone recovering from a hard thing.  But now, with the hard thing giving way to hope, I get to live into a better story.

 I am grateful to all of you for your kindnesses during this wild time in my life.  Those who hoped good things for me, who lit candles in far off basilicas, who wrote, who prayed, who made bread, who sent music, who brought flowers, who held me in their hearts. I was vulnerable, depleted, and lost at times.  Thanks for finding me in whatever brave way you did. It is hard to look squarely in the face of the grief and fear of a serious illness, and you were brave.  You are all lovely humans and I want to be more like you.  

On a liturgical note, May 20 is the beginning of Ordinary Time again.  Ordinary sounds good to me!  Until Advent comes around next December, all hope, joy, peace and love.