Today brought a good turn of events for me - after exactly four weeks and 28 infusions, my picc line was removed. Woo hoo! Everything is healing as it should and there is no sign of any remaining infection. I will follow up again in one month with the oral surgeon. When my mouth is done healing, we'll make a plan for some work to be done to replace my missing teeth. Uff da, what a deal this has been!
Dan was home for 13 hours last night - just long enough to wash a load of underwear and re-pack the suitcase. After a weekend spent up north golfing with the boys, he's now off to Nashville for a week long sales meeting with his company. No complaints from him, though. It's good to have a job, and it's even better to have a job you like. And, in his absence, Erin and I are holding down the fort just fine.
How can I be worried because, on the one hand, I don't want the loss of Shannon to always be the focal point and define me, and yet, on the other hand, I'm fearful that people will forget? How can it be that I want to move forward and I want to remember the past at the same time? It is a strange balance I am trying to find.
She has been gone seven months today. I wear one of my Shannon shirts on the 6th of every month. It's just my little thing that I do. From me to her. But, today, I got asked about it twice - once by the guy who drew my blood and then again this afternoon by the nurse who removed my picc line. I guess it made me think - it you're going to wear it in public, you better be ready to share the story. So, share it I did.
Sharing the story. Is this really my job? In some ways, it is. I'm doing lots of work on the book this week. Picture captions and possible book titles and book covers and advanced press write ups and author bios and, well, damn, it's keeping my head spinning.
I want to do right by Shannon. I want to do right by all who have been along on this journey. I feel an obligation and a duty to tell our story and sometimes - like today - I feel the pressure. The book is another thing from me to her, but it's a big one.
So, I continue moving forward while looking back. I guess that's a good thing. If I was only doing one or the other, I'd be missing out. Missing out on those sweet, dear memories, missing out on what's right here in front of me, right now, or missing out on the mystery of what the future holds...
"What we have once enjoyed, we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us." - Helen Keller