February 2020 will be two years since my lymphoma diagnosis, but my symptoms started to really affect day-to-day life in November 2017.  Two years later, it has been a long, hard, roller-coaster ride of getting worse, getting better, getting diagnosed with a new disease, getting . . . and so it goes.  All along the way, I have been looking forward to the day that I would be healthier again.  For me, that meant so many things, including getting back to traveling.

Travel was at the front of my mind last year.  I love to travel, and we usually take a nice vacation each year.  All travel stopped when I started chemotherapy.  To celebrate the success of the chemotherapy and the expected return to healthfulness, we planned a once-in-a-lifetime, bucket-list trip to the Galapagos Island, departing on November 1, 2019.  We planned a year out, hoping that would give me enough time to recuperate from the long-term side effects of chemotherapy.  And then came Crohn’s.  By April of this year, my doctor said that Galapagos was not going to happen, not only because of how poorly I felt but also because of the need to be closer to my medical providers.  So, we canceled.  As a consolation, we considered trips to Ireland and Iceland but decided to stay even closer to home and planned a September trip to New England.  The month before, we had to cancel again.

At the time we made those plans, I thought the trips were a symbol of hope.  I had decided that my health problems were a temporary detour on life’s journey, that the doctors would obviously find a treatment, and that I would soon be back to my old self.  Everyone has encouraged me to take that view—this is temporary, and I will get better soon.  That seemed like the “positive” outlook.  Recently, I finally realized that continuing with that view and expecting a change that had not come in two years is not necessarily the hopeful approach.  In my case at least, it was more like denial and had left me with a feeling of defeat, not hope.

Now that I have come to that realization, I actually feel a bit free, and the possibility of hope has returned.  I just have to redefine what hope means for me.  First and foremost, I must accept my health challenges and the real barriers that they place on my life.  So far, I am okay with having to take naps when the fatigue strikes.  (In fact, I am wondering why we stop taking naps after Kindergarten!  Maybe we realize sleeping on the floor isn’t really that restful?)  I am a bit more resistant to accepting the pain I feel so regularly and to having to stay close to home (and the bathroom), all of which make it hard to be active and to travel.  I struggle with accepting the possibility that I will never see so many amazing places (like Galapagos) and may never return to my beloved Ireland.  I struggle even more with accepting that a day’s travel may be too much, as that limits so many things, including visiting friends and family who we already miss so much.

With acceptance comes possibilities, though, and I am starting to find new ways to have fun and do the things I love.  For example, we are starting a new international experience by subscribing to Universal Yums, which provides a monthly “treat” box from different countries around the world, along with a booklet of information about the country of the month.  I may not be able to travel to those countries, but they can come to me!  I also figured out some rules for travel:  stay close to home and get a nice bed and breakfast or hotel where I can rest as much as needed.  We already have two trips planned, including a trip to see the holiday lights at Hershey Park and a trip to see Michael Buble in concert.  As for friends and family, they can always come to us, even if we cannot go to them.  (Thanks to those who already visited and/or are planning to visit soon!)  I can do all of these things today, and I remain hopeful that I can do them tomorrow.  If that changes, though, I now know I have to start with acceptance in order for hope to continue.

As Thanksgiving approaches, I am thankful for this newfound outlook.  My hope for all of you is that you have a peaceful, happy Thanksgiving, no matter your circumstances.