(If this is too long or TMI for you, feel free to skip to thank you messages at the bottom of the post!)
Those of you who have followed The Marmelade Gyspy for the past months know that since February -- after a long, incurable (but manageable) lung disease called bronchiectasis -- with many infections that would occur periodically -- I went for a second opinion. I was tired of feeling like a rag doll.
I had to shift my own thinking from fear that something awful was there to accepting what was indisputable -- annoying, but not life threatening -- I hoped.
I just wanted to be sure that we weren't overlooking something that might get lost, assuming it was the bronchiectasis. Maybe we'd find an underlying cause that, while it couldn't cure it, could help the infections occur less frequently. What I needed was a little good luck for once.
So, it was off to the Infectious Disease folks. I fully expected them to do their thing, take lots of tests and tell me they could find nothing more. Yay, me! But I had entered the web of modern medicine.
What they found initially was that I may have a serious lung disease -- a non-contagious tuberculosis infection with a long name. Then they said it was another. And when they told me the treatment options, I was frightened and horrified.
Two years. Vision loss. Plus the usual chemo effects. I felt like the grim reaper couldn't be far behind.
There was one appointment after another with no concrete information. "The test results aren't in." I felt like a puppet with doctors and labs pulling the strings.
They decided to test again. Perhaps it was a false positive. Maybe it was just protocol. I kept thinking positive thoughts -- and tons of prayers were thrown up to the universe.
Almost every day I wore a mask that tried to hide the fear and anxiety. "How're you doing today?" "Oh, not so bad, thanks for asking!" (Happy little smile.)
But no matter what I said to others, inside I couldn't escape from it. And pretty much everyone knew it -- even if they didn't know how deep that fear went.
I felt like I was juggling too many balls. Playing with fire. And while work, volunteering, art, being with friends, brought their own diversions, I felt like I was hiding in all of these things so I didn't have to face the inside of me. The frightened part.
Well, after six months of testing, the verdict is in.
And I'm OK. Pretty much.
I do have one of those mycobacterium infections (Mycobacterium moriokaense) but it only showed in one of many cultures and is not considered something that they feel should be treated in this way at this time.
In other words. I am free.
Free from the fear and anxiety and edginess.
Free from the tears, except those of joy.
Free from the anxiety of a treatment considered worse
than the disease.
Free to make plans and know that pending some emergency from any quarter,
I will be able to realize those plans.
Free from the fear and anxiety and edginess.
Free from the tears, except those of joy.
Free from the anxiety of a treatment considered worse
than the disease.
Free to make plans and know that pending some emergency from any quarter,
I will be able to realize those plans.
Free. And happy.
The Moriokaense does have potential challenges -- chronic pneumonia as the primary
susceptibility with this. But watching it is just fine. It puts me in no jeopardy. And makes a massive difference in my quality of life. And while I will still have bronchiectasis flare-ups and infections, it DOES mean that I can be treated for those a LOT easier and in
a MUCH shorter period of time than with something worse.

I'm sure you can imagine how relieved I am. Joy doesn't come close,
I can't begin to express how much I have valued the support, encouragement, listening ears, positive thoughts and prayers of so many people, including all of you. I have been a bundle of nerves and anxiety for a long, long time and have shed more tears in frustration than I like to imagine.
I can't begin to express how much I have valued the support, encouragement, listening ears, positive thoughts and prayers of so many people, including all of you. I have been a bundle of nerves and anxiety for a long, long time and have shed more tears in frustration than I like to imagine.
Rick, in particular, has been such a tremendous support --
picking me up when I'm down, listening, being there -- pure and simple. There
are times when I think this has been harder for him than for me.
I have received cards and good wishes and so much more from so many of you -- and many of us have never met face-to-face. And I know every single bit of that energy has helped.

I have received cards and good wishes and so much more from so many of you -- and many of us have never met face-to-face. And I know every single bit of that energy has helped.
I'm feeling better physically this summer than I had in a number of months
and now I feel like a huge weight is off my shoulders and that "vice" that was
holding my head in a continually anxious state has been released.


Retirement is
on Friday, September 13 -- and since I'm taking a little time off before, that
means about ten working days left. (But who's counting? Oh, me!) That
means I can stop worrying about travel or some of the other things that were on
my mind and relax into it.

I am so very grateful in so many ways.





