a snapshot

From my bedroom, I can see the field where sheep graze and bring new little lambs into the world. At the end of a long hallway, the living room opens up to more life, more vistas.

If I sit back in my wicker chair and look to the left, the bright sun and waving daffodils greet me. There are a few scattered clouds and a light breeze with sheets whipping on the clothesline. This is a household with now three adults (yours truly the recent addition) and three separate holiday cottages, most of which need their linens turned over weekly. There is no clothes dryer in sight. None. Zilch. Drying anything is a Skip to ma Lou process that begins on the clothesline, transitions to indoor racks in front of electric heaters, then to towel radiators and finally to an airing cupboard, which is, well, a cupboard with slatted shelves next to a hot water heater. Want it dried now? Fageddaboutit. Have enough clothes and sheets and be patient. Buy a dryer? Probably won't happen. Dryers are rare around here. 

A wood fire is burning behind me. It's perhaps 58 degrees out now in mid-afternoon, which feels delightful. I half-assed helped with the cottage cleaning this morning, which is a Saturday morning staple with the three vacation rentals (visit their link again HERE!). If you stepped into one, you might want to stay there forever. Tony told me once that a German man came huffing up to him after their week here and blustered, "This is listed as a Three Star accommodation! This is not a Three Star accommodation! It's a Five Star accommodation!" How my friends could take ancient fisherman's bothies and bring them back to life with soul and yet a few mod cons (modern conveniences) is beyond me. You walk in the door and want to sink into the life here. 

Yesterday was Good Friday. I attended the 2 pm service at St. John's, then wandered through the Forres High Street until I walked up to Cluny Hill College to meet my friend Will. Of course I didn't just see Will - I saw others I have known and cared for over the past 16 years..... Wolf, Niels, Sue, Stewart. It felt normal to be there, which isn't too surprising as I have come and gone there since 1991 when I did Experience Week. I was a "Living in Community Guest" for the fall of 1993. But this is Scotland, and I am an American. The longest I've stayed in this country is 13 months, aching to stay longer and never able to. If I were a member of the European Union (EU), I wouldn't be given a 2nd glance. I'm not. Getting through Immigration at London Heathrow reminded me that if I want to come again, I am strongly advised to bring an Entry Clearance. There are just too many stamps evidently in my Passport for this country's border patrol. "But I haven't been here for two years," I said with a lackluster tone indicative of my travel exhaustion. It didn't matter. I got my 6-month stamp but it took 30 minutes and 2 visits with the Guard's manager. Clearly I look dangerous. 

I even jogged yesterday, which I haven't done since Berkeley days about 2 weeks ago. It was a long day and my immune system sighed, "I see that we're all very happy and that our soul body is ecstatic, however I do have some blood count issues and I think you're pushing me just a tad much." I'm still glad I'm here. I jogged through forest trails.

What I hadn't blogged was that on March 23rd, the week prior to my departure, my monthly blood draw found my platelets having dropped by 50% from the previous month. My white counts were down as well although not as precipitously. My oncologist looked at me while I said nothing. I had thought I'd breeze in and breeze out, vowing to send a postcard from Scotland. I felt fine, wonderful even. It was supposed to be another innocuous blood test. I breathed. I didn't like the news. "Well?" I said.

"I'm worried," he said.

I still said nothing. "I think we should have another bone marrow biopsy to rule out a relapse," he said. I nodded. "Tomorrow," he said. I nodded.

And so it was. 

I was upset, I was frightened, and I was not going to stop preparing to leave my ramshackle shoebox in Berkeley. The what if's? nipped at my heels and I kept moving. Results dribbled in, declaring piecemeal that whatever the reason for my drop in counts, the return of the leukemia was NOT evident. YES that's FANTASTIC... but.... why did the counts drop? More shall be revealed. After doing the international two-step to get a CBC authorization sent from California to the Forres Health Centre here, I will be tested again this week. After Holy Week, after Easter. I'll let you know what transpires. 

Today there is peace and slow joy. It's bright like today's mesmerizing sunlight. It's my gift.