Fighting Cancer

The other night my friend Chris and I walked to town so I could use internet and look up websites about swimming with sharks at Caye Kauker. As we walked across the metal grid walkway on the suspension bridge, a great population of moths surrounded every street light, creating an odd moving glow - like a Thomas Kinkade painting (but better). (The effect is like a Kinkade painting, not the moths. Don't go looking for moths in your Thomas Kinkade streetlights.) As we approached, the thousands of moths dissipated. No, actually, they died. The concrete below the street light was 1/2 inch deep in moth bodies. When we had started across the bridge, every street lamp had great assembly of them. By the time we crossed, all were gone. On the ground. A mass exodus.

I don't know what the lifespan of a moth is, but at a butterfly farm in San Miguel (the Mayan village by Punta Gorda) an American told us the butterflies had a 48 day incubation as a pupae and then some only a 7-day life. Can you imagine? I don't know when these moths had been born, but they all seemed to congregate and die at once. Who could explain it? And why was I there to see it? That one moment in time when they all came to die and did so before my eyes. I was appropriately awed, and also a little ponderous...

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Part of me feels like it must be wrong to be living it up with adventures in Belize when I am supposed to be Fighting Cancer. Even though the adventures are exactly part of the fighting cancer plan. It would be more helpful if the fight could be with a sword (or a machete - I have two of them). Something very clear cut, I either win or lose, it's a tangible fight, you can see where you go wrong and it's done and there's no uncertainty. With this I live in ongoing uncertainty.

I'm planning to Extend My Stay in Belize. I have not given the natural approach to cancer long enough, I think. (You are rolling your eyes about my earlier reference to swimming with the sharks - oh yes, there wasn't enough time for that yet, you say...)

But really, I am not ready to return home to life that will pull me back into its craziness and away from the ground I've gained here - health-wise / balance-wise / every-wise.

I want to stay in Belize through the winter.

But the dogs....

The pup dogs must come down to stay with me. So either I must go up and fetch them, or convince one of you to come this way for a little tropical vacation and bring them by aircraft with you. (Volunteers please apply at susanbrill@mac.com. I may even have miles to fly you down....)

I will keep you posted on my travel / not-travel plan (and snorkeling with the sharks and other items of interest)...

As for now, torrential rain is falling in the street and we patrons are even getting sprinkled inside from the splash. People are in every doorway down the street, under lit-up awnings to protect them from the onslaught. No one is rushing. There is no hurry. Everyone is simply watching the tireless energy of rain. I love the rain; I love Belize.

Blessings and Love,

Susan