My therapist told me to

 I have a therapist!  I have never had one before, but no time like the present, right?  She is in Florida and we talked over the computer and I really liked her.

I also had a rough day yesterday.  I felt pretty awful.  I called it quits at lunchtime and went home and left my class in the capable hands of the emergency sub/aide at our school.

Later in the afternoon I went to my appointment with the surgeon.  It was at first a little comical.  I heard him go next door into a different exam room and say, "Thelma!  I hear you need some lymph nodes removed."

Except he was in a room with a couple who only spoke Spanish.  I heard them responding in Spanish and him talking about my cancer doctor and I finally intervened and told the receptionist that he thought he was talking to me, but he wasn't.  She sighed and got up from her chair.  Maybe it isn't the first time it has happened.

I went back in my little exam room and I heard him say to the receptionist, "I thought she seemed young for that."

He came in and introduced himself and I said, "I'm the old one."

He looked very awkward that I'd overheard him, but clearly those walls are thin....

He was a nice enough guy otherwise.  He hesitates to remove something that isn't one of the diseased lymph nodes and he couldn't readily feel one.  He said he'd look at the PET scan again and talk to my doctor some more and that made me (you're not going to believe this...) cry.  

It is so frustrating that I feel like I am getting sicker, but nothing is happening treatment-wise.

He handed me a box of Kleenex (I get handed a box of Kleenex a lot).  He was sympathetic and I could appreciate his point of view, but ugh.  

He called me a little while later with a new plan to have a radiologist insert of sort of device that will help them find the lymph node.  He is going out of town next week.  He said, "Is it OK if a different surgeon does that procedure?"

I said yes. The sooner the better and also, Adam is home all next week.  So that is progress.  It isn't fast progress, but at least it is moving.

I met with my therapist for the first time and I liked her a lot.  She told me a lot of the same things that I have been getting from other sources:  one day at a time/think no thought for the morrow/give us this day our daily bread.  Her take was to focus on the here and now.

She gave me homework to plan one fun thing to do every week.  She also wondered if I journal.  I said, "Well, I have a blog."  I told her that I don't really have a big following or anything, I mostly just do it for myself and so my kids can read our family history someday.

She said, "You're other homework is to keep blogging."

I like easy homework.

Today I'm going to rework my reading groups and refine my future chemo sub plans.  I'm going to rest and read and eat small bland meals (which is what my doctor said to do and I think it is helping).  I'm also going to put a pinch of Celtic salt that Molly told me to order from Amazon in a glass of water and drink it over the course of the day.  She told me it has minerals I need and so why not?  I'll think of the strength of my English and Scottish forebearers every time I take a sip.  

Margaret Livingston was the first wife of Archibald Gardner.  They were born in Scotland and crossed the plains to the Salt Lake Valley in 1847.  She has always been an inspiration to me. This is an excerpt from Archibald's reminiscences:

my Wife Driving the horse teem all the way even to over the Big Mountain arriving in the valey on the first Day of October & Marget was Born on the 5 Night or before Day on the 6[.] So you can se what the Lord can Do to Strenthen the back for the Burthen[.]

Margaret was their fifth child and she was born days after they arrived in the valley.  

Maybe Margaret Livingston grew up eating Celtic salt and it made her such a powerhouse!  (More than that I agree with Archibald that the Lord is who strengthens us.)  I've got His help and the salt.  I'm set!

Today I have what I need and I'm going to focus on today.