Ten down. Something like 17 to go. Early mornings, lots of miles, SpongeBob, Cheerio’s (with honey!), sedation, and radiation. That’s our routine. It’s amazing how fast it becomes “normal.”
It’s working. Alice’s smiles, giggles, and sparkly eyes are once again rather common sights and sounds in our old house. And that’s been wonderful.
But the joy is somehow tinged with sadness, too. This is how it goes with her kind of cancer. You knock it down, it comes back. You feel like you get your girl back, but in the back of your mind you can’t help but think you have to lose her again, and that stinks.
I try not to live there. I’m trying so hard to live in today, and if I must look to the future, I want my gaze to skip from tomorrow until 10,000 years from now, when faith is sight, tears are gone, and death is fully and finally swallowed up by completed redemption. But sometimes I fail at that. Continue reading “Alice: Radiation, Week 2”