Held in Love

Treatment #2 of 6 is in process.  They put us in one of the few truly private infusion suites, which has all the hallmarks of a isolation area with an actual sliding, closing door wall and no real window view.  The machine buzzes in rhythym, currently delivering a drip of saline and a dose of Emend and Aloxi, my long-acting antiemetics.  Shortly, my hands will be gloved in Oven Mitts, and my toes wearing their Ice, Ice Baby Booties.  This time I brought lemon popsicles to suck on, as the mouth sores wreaked painful havoc for several days.

As a lifelong crafter, I always seem to have something happening with my hands, so these oven mitts of torture really piss me off.  I tend to cycle through the crafts I love, moving from knitting to sewing to stained glass to cross-stitch to paper crafting to painting, and whatever other project peaks my Pinterest (and let's not forget glass-glittering and wedding-crafting!!)  Over the years a few of those much-loved crafts and art projects have fallen by the wayside, no longer holding my interest.  In the last several years I've found my heart led to the fiber arts - knitting, crocheting, quilting, clothing design, even exploring doll-making.

During my first go-around I started a new project the week after my diagnosis.  My family is spread far and wide, from Alaska to New York to Wisconsin to Ohio to Adrian to Ypsilanti to Jackson.  I missed having them close by; I so missed having them with me.  They hold me in their arms both physically and emotionally throughout this time, and I wanted to keep that feeling of safety and security with me during treatment.  So I asked them to draw their hands on a plain piece of paper, in whatever shape they desired, and send them back to me.  After sifting through dozens of pages of heart-shaped hands and holding hands and thumbs'-up hands (surprisingly, no middle-finger hands), I settled on my design.  I spent two days combing fabric stores to find the fabric that, to me, expressed and represented their personality in my heart and soul.

Through all this thought and positive energy and simple love, we created my chemo quilt:

"Held In Love"

Each hand releases a heart - sharing their love not just with me, but also with each other, all others, everyone in this ring of support.

The red hand is my father.  His favorite vehicles were all red - the Pinto wagon, the Fiero, the Mustang, his truck.  My sister Amy is the purple tie-dye.  She's a self-described gypsy, and definitely a free spirit.  My mother's favorite color is blue, and this felt so much like her, with so many shades and layers.  My son Michael loves his maize-and-blue (GO BLUE!) - but he, too, holds many hearts in his hand.  My daughter Stephanie is fun-loving, spirited and rainbow-colored - so much like her hair (and her soul).  My sister Mary's hand holds paw-prints, for the puppies she loves so very much.

Next to Michael are the handprints of his beautiful children - and my beautiful grandchildren, Nevaeh and Luke.

Ken's daughter, Miriam, is strong yet peaceful, and makes me think of nature and the outdoors, as does her husband Aaron who is quiet but so very funny (top and bottom on the left).  Ruth is vibrant and colorful and wise ; her husband Sean is kind and loving and full of energy (middle, top and bottom).  Dan is bold and fun and lively; his wife Lindsay is royal and authentic, and truly joyful (right, top and bottom).

Last but not least is my sweetie, my best friend, my partner, my soul mate, my love - my husband Ken.  He is wise and strong and full of life, always reaching for me and sending me love.

You can find me in the center of the quilt, evolving and growing from cancer (pink) into bright and new hues of life - yellows and oranges.

The quilt is double-sided; no matter which side is facing me, I am held by the hands of my family  The binding is made up of the fabric used for their hands, holding it all together.

Since this quilt was first created we've had addtions to the core of our family, and I expect this quilt will grow and evolve to include new sons, daughters, nephews and grandchildren.

So today I sit, again wrapped in the love that my family sends me now, and always.  Their hearts are always with me, and I feel surrounded by their support, love, and beautiful souls.  

There is so much peace being snuggled under this blanket, held in love by the very reasons I am determined to beat this cancer once and for all.