1,200 Days
What on earth is so special about 1,200 days? Well, in and of itself, nothing really. Still, when I woke up this morning, something about the sound of "Day twelve hundred" was special to me. One thousand two hundred days ago, we took a chance that I could live longer than the few weeks or months granted by four rounds of chemotherapy. Thanks to the skills of many medical professionals, the gift of stem cells from my brother, and the prayers of family and friends I didn't know I had, I received the building blocks of the blood currently coursing through my veins. I started on a journey, full of twists and turns, now fully twelve hundred days young and rollicking on towards a future I never expected to see.
Celebrate, Celebrate...
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| Celebrating...Mick style... |
If I "Dance to the music," it best be a slow waltz. Almost a year and a half ago, during my last hospitalization, I was struggling to walk two laps of the corridor outside the door of my hospital room. Yesterday, Dante and I walked two and a half miles and thoroughly enjoyed sitting in the shade in Daniell Park. I think I've learned to appreciate and celebrate such small achievements, to mark them as they pass, and to share each small dram of joy as it graces my glass.
My trip from moribund to merry has not always been marked by sunshine and fair winds, and many of you have followed me down some dark and dreary paths into shadow and cryptic chill and challenge. I appreciate the company in the dark times and love to share the sunny days. I’m not a naturally jolly person -- my mother said I was “grim” as a child -- but I love life and lovely days -- all 1,200 of them!
Good day, and God bless!
Mick
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