News

This past week I asked the radiologist if some of my irritability and feistiness in the late afternoons might be caused by the radiation treatments I’ve been receiving. “Ummm. I think that only happens to the Hulk,” he replied.

Just wanting to double check, I asked, “So do you think I might be turning into the Hulk?” “Ummm. Probably not at this point,” he replied.

In anticipation of Advent’s beginning this year, Mike and I did a little bit of real estate shopping. No, we are not planning any immediate moves from our sweet home. And, no, we did not purchase a vacation home in the Florida Keys (tempting though that is as the weather starts to get colder). Rather, we purchased a 3 sq. ft. condo in the Ignatius House columbarium, top right-hand corner. We don’t know who most of our neighbors will be.

At the beginning of each atrium year, I cut up the leftover Sierra Club and Marian calendars that tend to multiply in my mailbox to give the children some nice pictures to paste onto the front of their atrium folder for the coming months. (FYI: In case you were wondering, young children love pasting. I’m not kidding. LOVE it.)

Yesterday morning, Micah went to the pharmacy to pick up my anti-leprosy pills. (Side bar comment from Micah: “Be assured that my mother is not suffering from leprosy but from an inability to separate the anti-seizure medication levetiracetam from its brand name Keppra leading her to call it ‘lepra’.”)

When I wrote last, I thought I’d be starting radiation and chemo on Oct. 27. For varying reasons I shall not bore you with, that did not happen, and will likely not happen this week either, though I’m assured I will start by Nov. 11 at the latest. What did happen this past week was lots of education about chemo and radiation and another MRI and the creation of a plastic mask of my head that my nephews might be interested in for a future Halloween.

Dear Ones – Again, SOOO much appreciation for your kindness the past couple weeks. My husband thinks maybe I should have made public that we like Door Dash years ago. But mostly both of us have felt so warmed by the prayer we can feel surrounding us right now. A couple people have asked if they can pray with me for a specific kind of miracle at this time. The answer to that is “yes,” but I’d like to share a little bit more about what kind of miracle I’d like to use this time praying for with you.

Dearest, dearest friends, you have been so kind and good to me this past week. Well, really the whole of my life, but especially so in this past week. Thank you for the comments posted here and then also the kind emails and cards, flowers, excellent chicken soup, and even the Bobble Head Pope Leo XIV. I tell you that every moment this week have I felt like I was surrounded by the most loving people in the world.

Oh gosh, dear reader and friend, I want to apologize up front for sending such a strange newsletter this week. I know some of you have been waiting a number of days now trying to get a better idea of what is going on with me and then others of you are wondering, “Why has she not answered my email?” and then others of you are probably like, “Why is she writing at all?”

I’ve spent the last couple days at St. Meinrad’s Archabbey in southern Indiana. Although it was not my first time to visit the campus, I think it was my first time to lollygag here. I spoke for a couple hours on Wednesday, but decided to hang around an extra day since the drive to and fro is rather long and my sciatica….okay, I’m sure none of you are interested in hearing about my sciatica.

Hello there! Or, more appropriately, since I’m in Sweden, “Hej!”

It feels bold to address those I meet here with a casual-sounding “Hey,” or even better yet, “Hey Hey.” I keep trying but can’t quite get it right. It comes out “Hi Hi” and then it makes me giggle, so I’m sure the people on the train at present must think me very strange. Which I am, of course, but usually it takes more than 10 seconds to figure that out. Swedes can tell in far less time.