Yucca Blooms

Jenny here.  It’s been a medically uneventful week!  Wil went back to the clinic on Friday for a follow up, as well as another dose of a cancer fighting chemo vixen by the name of Vincristine.  Good news:  Wil’s little liver is looking good and numbers are great!  His WBC is still dropping, but all within normal expectations.  He is achy and tired, but has not had any nausea for several days.  And this week was the first week since October that he did not lose weight (I guess my cooking is too good J).  He is back on oral steroids for a few days, as this is a common compliment drug to the chemo.  What this means?  He’s not sleeping much.  He is up and around, watching TV and even did some laundry and dishes while I was at work this weekend. 

I look at him and his face is relaxed.  He is calm.  He is…home.

Today was the haircut fundraiser.  Wil had to stay home, safe from germs, but I wish he could have been there.  The afternoon was organized by some lovely ladies in our life who raised $600 to help take care of Wil and his variety of medical needs.  You know, money doesn’t buy you love or guarantees.  None of us knows where our journey will take us, or end.  But money these days buys me time with Wil.  It buys me time to take care of him, to attend appointments, to…breathe.  When people ask “how do you do it?” I know they are usually referring to the medical and emotional “stuff” of cancer.  Truth, I look back on days and weeks and months and I wonder right along with you all. This has been the fastest, slow moving journey of my life.

It’s an interesting question.  Given life or death, I think most of us would choose life and take on whatever trajectory that involved.  It’s not easy though, so I’ve come to speak my truth, in response to that question, that we are quite honestly living partially on the kindness and strength of others…and I mean it.  When I took the leap of faith in quitting my third job, which was the best thing I could have done, well, we have been blessed thus far to keep living humbly, with bills still paid.  Two months ago, I looked out at the possibilities and saw no way for it to work…a barren wasteland of emotional tumbleweeds and of prickly stressors.  Drought.

I am a visual person, so I do collages with kids in therapy a lot and, some time ago, I had torn a picture out of a Texas Highways magazine of a beautiful white and purplish flower.  It was strong.  A base of sturdy, pointed sword greenery, and delicate, soft flowers atop.  It took me some time to figure out the name of this exotic plant:  The Yucca. 

If you are not familiar with this flowering plant, it’s quite amazing.  It is a stunning, blooming life, ironically, in the middle of desert terrain.  But this one is not just a looker...it can also serve as food and has medicinal properties.  If you are stranded in a desert, a Yucca can aid in your survival.  Historically they are also called, "Lamparas de Dios" or "the Lamps of God."

A beautiful, tenacious, sustaining, healing light.  Words that describe the Yucca, but more importantly the people we are blessed to have on our side through this journey.

Today, yesterday, and I know in days to come, there seem to be Yuccas blooming every time we find ourselves in need. In my world, in my reality, there is not one set of footprints in the sand along a beach…there is a whole village, an army in the fight, many foot steps through the desert carrying us...our own lamps of God all along the way.  Our very own Yuccas…Much Love