A year of healing

This is a transparency so it does not scan well. I am only a few months old here.Near my eyebrows, my skull has indentations which my mom told me were from forceps. Shanna ended up with those same indentations but no forceps were involved with her.

Me on my wedding day in 1977. I am cooking the wedding dinner

9th grade with my summer blonde, white lipstick, black eyeliner and a tie

With the crazy quilt I crochetted at some point during college. I am standing in front of Steven's Coop where I lived with several dear friends on this blog. It is not clear what color the building is but it's 'beach house' blue. We also had a red light bulb lit out front to give it that touch of class. Many good times. Unfortunately the building burned down 5 years ago.

I am 4 or 5 in this picture. My mom wasn't much for dealing with hair.

So now it's officially one year that I've been out of treatment. Only the scars remain and my sore shoulder, which is getting better. I can run more than an hour without stopping and I have had 2 haircuts. It is also my birthday. It seems like a very big number. In my mind, I am much, much younger. Who would have thought I'd be so old? But I am grateful to be so old. When I was diagnosed, it was not clear to me just how long I'd survive. In the support group, the moderator keeps trying to pinpoint what is the worst that we have survived; baldness? fatigue?isolation? but my answer is the thought of life going ahead without me.