Early Monday morning and I’m sitting on a deck, looking out at Lake George, stunned by its beauty. I’m working on my new novel, which is a suspense novel. Something different for me, and I’m very excited about it. My mind is humming along. Except that, there’s a part of my mind that’s somewhere else because I know that next week this time I’ll be starting chemo.
Next Monday morning, I’ll be sitting in a hospital, feeling anxious. Probably not feeling inspired to write, or more to the point, unable to write because I’ll have an IV in my arm.
The good news is that the cancer I have is highly treatable. Really it’s more that I have some cancer cells than that I have cancer, and the doctors and surgeons keep telling me how lucky I am that they even found it. I do feel lucky and grateful, though I also keep thinking of that Marx brothers movie when someone asks Groucho Marx if he had any luck with the train and he says, “Yes, it didn’t hit me.”
I’ve also been through chemo twice before, so if it’s possible to be a professional, I am.
But it’s all still a monumental distraction. (I note that every time I write the word distraction, I accidentally write the word destruction. That shows you where my mind’s at.) How are you supposed to move forward when your mind is moving sideways? I don’t know the answer, but that’s what I’d like to write about this week, and if you have any thoughts, please chime in!