What to do on borrowed time?

My monthly visits to the oncologist continue to bring good news:  cancer markers in the blood continue to drop, PET scan shows no metabolic activity, IRM shows tumors disappearing, I continue to tolerate the chemotherapy as if it were sugar water.  My next set of check-ups is scheduled for the end of March to make sure that we are still on the right track.

This unusual set of circumstances – unusual according to what the statistics say about lifespan after a diagnosis with Stage IV ovarian cancer – intrigues me so much that I discuss it with Dr. DeV.  She has no explanation but informs us that the NIH is starting to do studies on what they term “exceptional responders”, those who seem to defy the statistics and respond exceptionally well to their treatment.  I’d love to throw my case into the “bucket trial” as it’s called for the sake of science, but the amount of paperwork would be a lot to ask of my oncologist.

So I live from event to event, looking forward to spending time with family and friends.  In October and November I spent a week with Jasmine in Brittany, a week with Charlotte and her friend in Heuchin, a week with Élodie and Thibaut in Austin, and a week with friends and family in Jackson, Mississippi.  I ran full speed into the Wall of Fatigue and practically had to be poured off the plane when I got back to Brussels. 

Coming back to northern Europe in mid-November was especially hard since we had lost so many daylight hours here.  The weather was cloudy and gloomy and so incredibly dark.  I was exhausted and had no motivation to do much except loll around and read.  During a nice bout of weather, I decided to completely overhaul my flowerbeds in Heuchin, which are full of perennials and are a constant source of work to weed.  I decided I wanted to cut back and so I redesigned the beds with the help of my Dutch neighbor whose advice was priceless:  put in flowering bushes in the back of the beds and limit the flowers to the borders.  About two-thirds of that has been done before cold weather set in; now the rest will have to wait for spring.

The next big event that I focused on was meeting Alec, Virginie, Jasmine, and Martine, Virginie’s mom, in Paris in December.  We took Jasmine to the US Embassy where her birth was registered and she officially became American.  She came out of the Embassy with her little American flag and I was very proud, which surprised me since I’m not particularly patriotic.  We also met up with dear friends and were able to share time with them and introduce them to Jasmine, since we all went out to dinner together one evening – an exciting experience to dine in a Parisian restaurant with a two-year old.  She received kudos from the wait staff as being well behaved ‘en restaurant’.

We spent a wonderful Christmas all together in Heuchin with a beautiful tree that Alec and Thierry felled in the yard.  When Jasmine saw the tree decorated and all lit up in the living room she was delighted and exclaimed “Sapin!” and when asked what kind of tree “Sapin de …?” instead of replying “Noël” as we expected, she declared “Jasmine” thus claiming possession of the entire Christmas tree.

We then headed for Brussels for a brief visit since Martine had never been there before.  Jasmine celebrated her second birthday with her Belgian cousins, Émilie, Charlotte, Lola and Alma.  Both grandmothers collaborated to make a Boston Cream Pie decorated with Barbapapa, her favorite character for the moment.

Being surrounded by family for such events seems to be one of the most important things that I look forward to, but then everyone goes back home and I’m faced with the day to day routine.   Despite the fact that I have plenty of “projects” whether it be sewing or knitting or gardening, I sometimes feel a deep emptiness. Je m’ennuie. This is accentuated by the fact that Thierry is still working and very much involved in his company.  We don’t have the same rhythm since I’ve left the work world.  It’s harder and harder to get coordinated in our activities. Furthermore, I have this underlying urgency to make the most of my “borrowed time”.  I feel that I’m so incredibly lucky to still be alive and that somehow I might be wasting that precious time.  Should I be doing more?  If so, more of what?  Traveling? How can I do more and not wear myself out?  Is what I’m doing meaningful, helpful, or significant?  Sometimes I feel that I’m just letting the hours go by waiting, but for what?  I hate having constraints on my time; I seem to crave my liberty, but without constraints there is no commitment, and without commitment no achievement.

Learning to live in the moment would be a worthy achievement, but I would also need to learn to feel that that in itself is enough.

As it ‘tis the season, I wish you all the best for this upcoming New Year, but especially “Bonne Santé”!