Back to Life, Back to Reality

Outside my window, yellow leaves are swirling down from the trees into the garden below. Through the opposite windows of the courtyard, I can see hospital staffers coming and going like ants in a child's plastic ant farm. In my room, I'm surrounded by medical equipment and more disinfecting products than I ever thought I'd see in one day.
The stem cells come in in five more days. I've been here for four days already, and it's just starting to sink in today how very long I'm going to stuck here.

Turkey Nuts

I'm definitely experiencing a bit of a comedown after all the exhilaration of my pre-hospital adventures. Driving up into the mountains and down the coast, re-visiting Esalen and receiving some healing touch, pulling out the old Razzle Dazzle for a Karaoke night with some of my best peeps, sharing Thanksgiving with my little family, and welcoming my parents-in-law to California and some of my favorite places....all those things sure were fun, footloose and seemingly cancer-free. 
Now I lay here and receive my treatment, which today includes one kind of chemo and some fancy Rabbit Serum that's supposed to lower my immune system. Yes, it's safe to say that I officially feel at the height of my Cancer-Patient status. Knowing I'll be in this room for about a month, knowing I have to wear the HEPA mask every time I step outside, missing life as I've known it forever. I know it does no good to dwell on the past—how much I miss my old life in Northampton, my friends, my job, my dog, my family there—but neither does it do me any good to dwell in the future - i.e. "when will I get out of here? Will my cancer come back? What if it does? etc etc."
I can only be in this moment, in this bed, in this place, with this view, one day at a time.