If you’re going to have leukemia, CLL is probably the best type to have. Of course, it’s a bit of an oxymoron to have “best” and “leukemia” in the same sentence.

There are several types of leukemia besides mine which is Chronic lymphocytic leukemia, or CLL. In one of my other entries, I mentioned my Leuk’s meaner cousins. There’s Acute lymphoblastic leukemia, or ALL, Acute myelogenous leukemia, or AML, and Chronic myelogenous leukemia, or CML. The “Acute” ones are not so “cute”; they can be a lot more challenging.

If you are blessed with one of these meaner cousins, feel free to write comments. This blog doesn’t need to be exclusively for CLL readers.

And, even if you don’t have leukemia but know someone who does, join in too.

What ever form Leuk comes in, he’s still an S.O.B. that messes with our lives.

Don’t let him steal your hope. We are better than him.

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I went back to the bay last week, to the place I grew up. I’ve never been too far from the sea and for a good share of my life I lived in a big house right on the beach.

As a teenager, I used to take our 12′ row boat out in 4 foot winter waves. In rough seas like that any sane person wouldn’t lauch a boat from the beach. But, hey, whoever said teenagers were sane? And with a teenager’s strength and agility, I always pulled it off.

Anyway, to lauch against big waves you have to push the boat out bow first. If you try to launch stern first (the usual way in calmer waters) the waves will wash over the stern and swamp the boat.

So, I angled the boat to the waves, pushed hard on the stern, jumped in and quickly grabbed the oars to pull hard against the up-coming wave. But I wasn’t fast enough. The wave pushed my boat sideways, parallel to the beach, and another hit me broadside.

I fell to the seaward side of the boat. She tipped up and tried to dump me out. I was on my back – half of me in the water and half in the boat. My arms didn’t have the strength of youth and I struggled to right myself. Finally I got out of the boat on my feet instead of head first.

It was a good thing I was alone. No one could hear me cussing and, more importantly, no one could see me acting like a landlubber fresh from Kansas!

It was all a little embarrassing but, even though I walked away in soggy shoes, it was a great day.

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There’s a big Douglas Fur outside our window. It’s roots are tangled up with other tree’s roots. This is a good thing since the big tree is perched on a mound of dirt left over from excavation done years ago before our house was built.

I could see my son, Guy, swinging on the rope I’d tied to a limb. For a moment he was there – laughing and telling me to watch as he jumped out, swung around the tree, and then jumped out and swung back.

He was a boy then, 20 years ago, but I could see him clearly. My boy. A tree. A memory.

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a poem on having leukemia:

It makes me want to run away
and yet I remain

It makes me want to be alone
and yet I hold her

It makes me search for my life’s purpose
and yet my children are my legacy

It makes me believe there is no God
and yet I pray

It makes me want to stand and fight
and yet I’m not afraid to lie down

copyright Jim W. Smith 2012

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Odd day today. I’m not feeling so hot physically, but I’m in a good mood.

I’m having some dizziness but still getting stuff done – as long as I move slow and do most of my stuff sitting down.

I don’t think Leuk is the cause of my dizziness. I believe (hope) I’m not far enough along for that. I think dizziness can be an issue, but I’ve had it off and on for some time, even before Leuk showed up.

Anyway, it’s a rainy day in Washington State and I feel good.

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