On 9/11 I was in Chicago at Print ’01, a huge exhibition in the print industry. I turned on the TV in my hotel room just in time to see the second plane hit. It was unworldly – and I was 1200 miles from home.
During my cancer I learned that although we long for certainty, sometimes it’s just not possible. We can only choose from available options, with imperfect information, and see how it plays out. I was desperately sick and wanted a sure treatment, but there wasn’t one. When I learned about interleukin I wished I could know if it would work for me, and they couldn’t say – even Beth Israel Deaconess, one of the best places in the world for this disease, couldn’t say. Today I know they acted professionally by telling the truth: no false hope, and no false despair – just the truth, which my primary physician Dr. Danny Sands might say this way: “Sometimes we just don’t know.”
As regular readers know, that was freshly reinforced when my younger brother died unexpectedly eleven days ago. (See A death in the family and A sister’s perspective.)
Now, due to another uncertain family circumstance, we’ve decided my June trip to Australia must be postponed to another time.