Waiting and a Passing Cloud of Melancholy

We have been waiting now for quite a while and it feels a little like the calm before the storm. When the biopsy result arrives the waiting part will be mostly over. A tiny piece of tissue examined under a microscope will give some indication as to what is going on in the wife’s body. Hopefully, there will be some plan of action and a maybe a visit to an oncologist. We will be a little wiser, the knowledge won’t change what is going on, but it will change how we orient in respect of it.

When I tell people that I never had a meeting with an oncologist they find it hard to believe. When I said that I had no chemotherapy the French doctors have a WTF look on their face. They tend to do things belt and braces here.

As I was preparing the Garden Time Lapse post this morning a soft cloud of melancholy passed though my heart. We have put a hell of a lot of work into that garden and many of our efforts are illustrated “on film” here in this blog. There is too much work for one partially handicapped person, me. If the wife gets more incapacitated, we may have to get some help or simply downsize. We might have to leave and miss the fruits of our efforts this year when they come to fruition in spring.

How quick any of this might happen is difficult to say.

If there is surgery this is a good place to recuperate, it is large quiet and private.

So maybe the garden assistance is the best short-term idea.

This is the fourth and largest garden we have totally revamped.

It will not be without a tear, that we leave it.

I am reminded of one of my favourite quotations:

“Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in these streets, and too many are the children of my longing that walk naked among these hills, and I cannot withdraw from them without a burden and an ache. It is not a garment that I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands.”

― Khalil Gibran, The Prophet