Remembrance Day 2014

I was in London in the late 2000s for Remembrance Day (Armistice Day), when the UK commemorates the victims of the First and Second World Wars and remember the members of the British and Commonwealth services who have fought in modern conflicts. (The same day in the US is known as Veteran's Day, a US National Holiday that honors people who have served in the U.S. Armed Forces.)

It was a very special day to be in London, especially at 11:00 am, when everyone (yes, everyone!) stopped what they were doing for 2 minutes of silence. Poppies have been used to commemorate soldiers who have died in war since the 1920s, and poppies were everywhere. Especially moving were the grounds of Westminster Abbey, where small plots of land were designated for each of the units that fought in the wars, and a poppy was placed for each man killed in the line of duty.

I had a different kind of Remembrance Day in 2014. This was the day I found out I had cancer, again. Undifferentiated endometrial stromal sarcoma to be exact. A rare, aggressive kind of cancer. The kind of cancer I thought I had beat in September 2013.

Chemo was recommended, although the oncologist did let Bob and me make the final decision. I am starting a chemo regimen of 6 cycles, four weeks per cycle, in the hope that I can gain some quality time. There is no cure. I can stop at any time I chose. I'll have another CT scan after two cycles to see if the chemo is having any effect on the cancer.

So now starts the flurry of activities and decisions: are my blood values good, do I want a port or use my veins for the treatments, when can I expect to be most fatigued, can I keep working. . .