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 March 11, 2005
Dear Family and Friends,
Seattle continues to be gloriously beautiful. No rain for weeks, lots of sun, so the trees are frothy with pink and white blossoms; daffodil stem stretch tall under their bright yellow trumpets, and the royal purple of azaleas bring awe. Yesterday, however, due to the lack of snow and rain, the Governor declared a state of drought and asked for voluntary water conservation. Washington’s rivers are only 1/3 of their usual flow, the famous “Mighty Falls” is down to a trickle, and spring, which usually arrives here around mid-June, seems already settled in. The weather is beautiful but not good for a state meant to be sopping wet until summer.
It has been a busy two weeks for Jim and me. We celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary on Tuesday, March 1st by dining at Chez Shea, a local, favorite French restaurant. We had a glass of champagne with our wonderful meal (For our Food Club: I had Hearts of Palm-Arugula Salad and Hokkaido Sea Scallops; Jim had Carrot & Sweet Potato Bisque, Mussels Provencal, and Confit of Muscovy Duck Leg; we shared a lemon Crème Brule for dessert).
On Wednesday, Robb and Gaye Ott took us to dinner at The Palisade. Robb was Jim’s assistant director for three Continental Singers tours and he attended our outdoor, informal wedding. It was a great reunion over incredible food, watching the sun set over gently rocking sailboats in the harbor below.
On Thursday, Paul Johnson treated us to dinner atop the Space Needle. The view was astounding as the restaurant slowly rotated 360-degrees, delivering us the entire city several times during our meal. Our conversation was delightful and intense and we loved every hour with Paul.
By Friday, we were glad to eat at home! We shared dinner with Craig Ellsworth, Jim’s friend of 42 years, who flew up to spend the weekend with us. Then, on Saturday, we watched the film, Million Dollar Baby. Wow. We definitely weren’t prepared for the twist at the end, a moral exposition I’m still pondering.
On Sunday, we attended St. Mark’s Episcopal Cathedral, a stately, imposing building high on Capital Hill and visible from most of Seattle. Jim has written an essay about the experience which he will send along with this Update. (See below)
Monday, March 8, was a day of rest…anxious rest. Tuesday, the 9th, I had full body radiation at noon. I stood between racks of steel bars and sheets of Plexiglas. I was able to rest my behind a bit against a stationary bicycle seat while being zapped. I had been told to bring my own music to help time pass. So, I took Ashley Cleveland’s new hymns album, Men and Angels Say, in which she graciously thanked me and Dwight Ozard (a fellow multiple myeloma patient) for “unwittingly providing the muse” for her project. As the 15-minute dose of radiation covered the front of me, I concentrated on the lyrics of “Power in the Blood,” “I Need Thee Every Hour,” and “It is Well With my Soul,” sung with the passion only Ashley can deliver. Then, back-side forward, face to the wall, radiation silently burned its way to effectiveness, I rested in the songs “Nothing But the Blood,” Holy, Holy, Holy.” My session ended along with the last note of “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” I may have been Ashley’s muse, but she was my comfort and strength.
That afternoon, Barb Pine (my editor and mentor) accompanied me and Jim to the U of W hospital for The Transplant. My new favorite time of day is 4:30 p.m. I snuggled into the bed at that time and the nurse brought in the bag of cells at 4:42 p.m. That is, 4:42 the next day! Someone, somewhere, knew where they were every moment, but in a blind donation, we were kept in suspense. We waited. Once the bags arrived on Wednesday morning, once the lab processed the cells and finally delivered them to my bedside (the side where Jim doesn’t have laptop, cell phone, battery charger, Treo 650, Bible and worksheets on my food tray), 24 hours had passed.
The nurse attached the bags of blood to the IV, along with a bag of saline. At the beginning, the blood product was diluted a bit by the saline and we could actually SEE the tiny, life-giving cells flowing through the clear tube. It was amazing, it was quieting. We were looking at life itself.
Jim and I arrived back at the Pete Gross House, our home away from home, at, you guessed it, 4:30 p.m. on Thursday. A bit longer than we expected, but The Transplant is complete and now we wait.
Everyday, I am to return to the SCCA clinic for blood labs, blood pressure check (which is low), meet with my team of doctors. That will be the schedule of my life for many weeks to come. But that’s OK. In fact, it is an easy price to pay for another 25 years of marriage to Jim and for as many years of loving my sons.
I hope you do not tire of hearing me. Thank you for your prayers. They are ever precious to me. God has heard and answered. Please continue to pray that my body doesn’t reject The Transplanted cells and that I stop throwing up the handfuls of pills I take daily. Jim and I are continually grateful for your overwhelming love and support.
Love,
Janice
P.S. Some semi-interesting news: I was born with pencil-straight hair. Now, after a year of being bald and fuzzy-headed, my hair is an inch-and-a-half long – and curly! I no longer have to wear knit caps to keep my head warm. Gel on the tips of my nickel-size curls creates a Betty Boop effect. I never knew hair styling could be so much fun!
"All material, unless otherwise noted, are owned and copyrighted by Janice Chaffee and James Chaffee, © 2004, 2005, 2006. Permission is granted to forward e-mails, or print for personal use only. No portion of these updates may be quoted in part or whole in any published material or on any internet site without authorization from authors.” |
