Gratitude.
Five years ago today, I had a sudden onset of weird symptoms just as I left the allergist office. It didn't feel like an allergic reaction, and it wasn't. I was hemorrhaging internally related to the 1.6 lb (726 grams) tumor that had consumed most of my left kidney. It turned out to be Renal Cell Carcinoma and I spent the next two months in Virginia preparing for, and recovering from surgery.
On the anniversary of that fateful ER visit, I always think about the amazing people who rallied into action. This includes not only my AMAZING family--importantly my sister Kelly and her saint-like new husband Richard who welcomed me and all of my visitors into their home-turned-hotel, but also my friends who kept me afloat in so many ways--academically (I submitted the AAPI on time!), emotionally, and instrumentally.
This anniversary is particularly salient today as I do a different version of this dance. I am in for a much longer treatment plant with a lot more uncertainty--which is only to say that I am floored at the stamina of your love. The amount of generosity, thoughtfulness, friendship and kindness is overwhelming. Truly. I didn't think I could be more flooded by love, and yet here we are.
Between my grad-school friends who organized once-weekly care packages from their home towns (which included everything from soothing teas to NSFW coloring books!), my Hackley family who drop off soup and flowers and help with logistics, and everyone else for all of the text messages, phone calls, emails, visits, and cards--I am ceaselessly amazed at my community. You all are incredible. You brighten so many of my days--Thank you.
I can't help but get tearful thinking about those who aren't here to thank. Nancy was there every step of my last illness, and, in turn, I tried to be as present as possible for her's. I miss her phone calls and advice (solicited or not). I miss Jim Wiley's candid comments about how lame hospitals are. I can imagine sitting with him watching football as we opt out of whatever activity we don't feel up for.
I can keep the tears going as I think about how amazing Chris is. I don't fully have words to express how amazing he has been over the last four months. The last time I was sick, it felt very different. I couldn't stay in CT because I needed to be with my family. Now, in our little faculty-house home, Chris is my family. He makes me take my meds and call the doctor when I don't want to. He puts the eleventy-billion creams on my rash when I can't reach. He went to every single appointment with me this summer. He never complained. He is supportive and funny and kind. He embodies patience and love. I am so grateful he is mine.
So, cheers to you all. I could not do this without you.
XOXO
On the anniversary of that fateful ER visit, I always think about the amazing people who rallied into action. This includes not only my AMAZING family--importantly my sister Kelly and her saint-like new husband Richard who welcomed me and all of my visitors into their home-turned-hotel, but also my friends who kept me afloat in so many ways--academically (I submitted the AAPI on time!), emotionally, and instrumentally.
This anniversary is particularly salient today as I do a different version of this dance. I am in for a much longer treatment plant with a lot more uncertainty--which is only to say that I am floored at the stamina of your love. The amount of generosity, thoughtfulness, friendship and kindness is overwhelming. Truly. I didn't think I could be more flooded by love, and yet here we are.
Between my grad-school friends who organized once-weekly care packages from their home towns (which included everything from soothing teas to NSFW coloring books!), my Hackley family who drop off soup and flowers and help with logistics, and everyone else for all of the text messages, phone calls, emails, visits, and cards--I am ceaselessly amazed at my community. You all are incredible. You brighten so many of my days--Thank you.
I can't help but get tearful thinking about those who aren't here to thank. Nancy was there every step of my last illness, and, in turn, I tried to be as present as possible for her's. I miss her phone calls and advice (solicited or not). I miss Jim Wiley's candid comments about how lame hospitals are. I can imagine sitting with him watching football as we opt out of whatever activity we don't feel up for.
I can keep the tears going as I think about how amazing Chris is. I don't fully have words to express how amazing he has been over the last four months. The last time I was sick, it felt very different. I couldn't stay in CT because I needed to be with my family. Now, in our little faculty-house home, Chris is my family. He makes me take my meds and call the doctor when I don't want to. He puts the eleventy-billion creams on my rash when I can't reach. He went to every single appointment with me this summer. He never complained. He is supportive and funny and kind. He embodies patience and love. I am so grateful he is mine.
So, cheers to you all. I could not do this without you.
XOXO
<3 thank you for keeping us updated. Sending so many hugs and so much love your way. <3 Viana
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