I feel this is the day to open up more fully about what has been happening. 

I can do it now with some confidence. I can do it because it is behind me and does not create worry or need attention.

At the time of my breast cancer a small black spot was visible in my lungs. It held no great concern. 

We simply watched it.

. . . and as I sit pondering life and its many mysteries

I find myself listening for rabbits . . .

This spring my CT scan showed a change and things began to move quickly.

I am now home recovering from surgery that removed half of my right lung.

I am doing well.

A few close friends and family have been aware of this as it unfolded. While I waited there was time to enjoy the richness of life before entering a time of recovery.

Brad has been beside me and because of his loving concern and deep worry of what this could mean, once again we faced how vulnerable we are.

We have completed the hardest part. 

My sister and brother in law (who are doctors) flew up to be with us and tremendously helped support us through every step.

Once again my health has taken me to the most humble of places.

In my youth, recovering from reconstructive surgery for ulcerative colitis I was struck with a most precious gift of witnessing the transformation from illness to good health.

For several years I had suffered with a debilitating illness which in the end lead to the surgery.

One day I got out of bed and went for a walk, took a bus, got on the subway and emerged to wander the streets of downtown Toronto soaking in the colour and vibration of the city.

All at once I realized I had gone before I knew I had left.

That moment of realization, of contrast, has always been one of the most incredible moments of my life.

It is here on these pages where I have always shared my journey, good bad and otherwise for those who care to listen; it is my way of opening myself to what my life is living.

I will write again and share again while I do the most important work of my recovery:

e x p a n d my new lungs.

I have a goal.

One I shared with my surgeon when we discussed what was going to be possible after the surgery: that I will be well enough and able to travel to my fall classes at The Shake Rag Alley Center for the Arts, one of the special places where I teach, where creative play engages and we find ourselves perhaps . . . listening for rabbits . . . or swans . . . .