Cranes

One Wish

Two days ago I received two large, light boxes from Hawaii. Not once since I was diagnosed, told I would need surgery, or been sick with chemo, or deep bone pain have I cried. But I did once I realized what the boxes contained.

They two boxes were filled to the brim with paper cranes. 1000 and 1 of them. So many, all made from origami paper, regular paper, magazines, foil, strung together so I could hang them up easily. Bob Bonar, the Head of Development at HPA organized the gift. They were folded by hundreds of people who most likely have only a vague recollection of me from not having seen me for over a decade, or have never met me at all, but were willing to share their aloha and good wishes and hopes that I am going to get better.




Unless you grew up in Hawaii or Japan, the significance might be lost on you. Children my age grew up reading a book called Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes. In fact, it was one of the first books I can remember reading in Hawaii at HPA (Kona Campus) in first grade. For some reason, I never forgot it.

It is the true story of a little girl called Sadako who contracted leukemia from the atomic bombs the US dropped on Japan. As she was dying, she became determined to fold 1000 paper cranes, because, according to a Japanese ledgend, she would get one wish if she completed the endeavor, which would allow her to live. In the version I read, she died before completing the cranes.

I think the reason I remember the book so well from my childhood was that it was one the of the first real stories that I read that did not have a happy ending. Not only did she die, but she didn't finish her cranes, and left me to wonder what would have happened if she had. The Japanese Government actually erected a statue in her honor, and says that she did complete the cranes, but as my only exposure is through this story where she didn't, it made me feel very wistful upon remembering it.

I am amazed by the generosity of the gift and the time taken by those who don't know me, and because of that book, it does have deeper meaning that harkens back to my childhood in Hawaii, and the importance of having a goal to focus on while fighting cancer. Mahalo Nui Loa from the bottom of my soul.

Children's Peace Memorial in Japan

One Week

Amazingly, I will have gone a full week without going to the doctor's office tomorrow. This is the first time since I felt the change in my left breast that a full 7 days has gone by without having to take my shirt off for people other than my husband, or being poked, prodded, or stuck by a nurse. I ALMOST feel normal again.

The Cancer Vegan Diet (no animal products, sugar, coffee, booze, or refined grains) so far has been an utter success. I highly recommend it. First of all, it has gotten me cooking again, which I do sporadically but not on an every day basis as my husband is so much better at it than I am. Second, I don't even miss meat, bread, or sugar. What does tempt me is those little jars of candies that are always at doctor's offices, or restaurants, or stores. But as soon as I walk out of the establishment I don't feel like I want it anymore.

The only thing about the vegan diet, although I am EATING all the time, I have lost a pound or two. Which means I need to up the peanut butter and olive oil. Oh, woe is me ;)