We've never had a cancer Christmas. I mean, technically, we did. LW's first Christmas, she had cancer. But we didn't know it. We were blissfully ignorant, happily innocent.
If all goes well (knockwoodpleaseGod), we should be done with chemo in October. Maybe November, if we've had to put off some chemos for low counts. But hopefully, we will be done by December. Hopefully, scans will be clear, she'll be off-chemo, things can be normal, by December.
As longtime Lizard-Eater-Readers know, I am a nut in December. Christmas, Chanukah, Solstice, Festivus, I love it all. The music, the food, the shopping, the holiday cards, bring it on.
Can you imagine how happily insane I'll be this December?
Occasionally, a bit of Christmas drops into my reality. The anesthesiology doctor giving us the tree made of propofol bottles. Or a tv station running a Christmas episode of something. Or a preview of a Christmas movie at the start of a kids' video. I get that whiff of a carol, and my heart lifts, Pavlovian.
It is June 1. And I am yearning for December.