Well, mark one for small victories. Yesterday I walked to work and it didn’t wipe me out. Ha! Recovery is a very good thing. And yes, I felt incredibly proud – evidenced by the stupid smile plastered on my face, and whenever I passed someone (construction workers, lady with groceries, man on bike) there was a deep urge to shout out: “Look at this! I’m walking to work!”

But I didn’t really do that. Everyone was walking, except man on bike, so really . . . Or, maybe everyone should have been celebrating their ability to walk? Yes! I can walk! Yes! I can breathe! Yes! I can see! Yes! I can bike! Yes! I can shout! And so on.

Not only can I walk, see, bike, shout, breath, but I can also read, smell, laugh, love, study, think, eat (and eat and eat), draw, write, sing, rest, sleep, run, skip, dance AND more.

Life should be one big party all the time.

I suppose we forget our blessings the way we forget our pains. Mothers tell me that while child birth is traumatic they forget about the pain, like the mind purposefully shelves it so that the body can continue making babies. Perhaps it’s the same for good things too, because if I never stopped marvelling at how amazing it is to walk, I may never stop walking – and thus be really late for work.

Who knows, it’s just a theory. Yesterday was nice because it was new, and a marker in my post-chemo progress. Walking is a simple pleasure. But yesterday, it was a great event.