Buck and I have been in Ponte Vedra on Florida’s east coast, just outside of Jacksonville, for two weeks. That’s two down and one week to go for our radiation vacation at Mayo Clinic.
We’re staying in a quiet condo neighborhood in the huge Sawgrass development. The condo has a screened porch right on a lesser-used portion of one of the golf courses, and blessedly no golfers in sight, only birds and the myriad, arcane parade of specialized equipment designed to keep the golf course in pristine condition in the event a bandy-legged old coot (my term for golfers) should happen along.
The weather has been ethereally lovely in the way of October in Florida. Our quarters are roughly a mile and a half from the Atlantic Ocean. I know this because my feet tell me so. Early each morning, I make the glorious walk to greet the sun rising there.
It has been a joy to see the incredible variety of shore birds and nice folk being walked by their dogs. We are so glad to be eight miles from the clinic — close enough to make our once or twice daily trip there, and far enough away from the campus to escape the feeling that one is in a pervasive illness bubble. We both breathe easier here, with our beloved longleaf pines just outside the back door, mingling with palmettos and palms, doves and squirrels everywhere.
Buck’s prognosis continues to be for a complete recovery. This last week of treatment is shaping up to be a bit rough, because the radiation side effects have just begun to kick in, with reddened skin, dry mouth, and sore throat, but it is only five days. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Saturday morning we’ll drive home. No more targeted poisoning to get well.
Note: These pictures were from last Sunday. I wasn’t sure I could sustain blogging, and was directing all my energies toward the events of each day. I think I’ll be able to catch up this weekend, and share some thoughts and pictures from my walks. Hope all is well in your worlds.