The bright moon that I watched rise through the trees to the east almost two weeks ago is now just a shining sliver in the western sky, invoking a glimmer of joy before it dips behind the Rocky Mountains. Goodbye, Beaver supermoon. You were really special.
I blogged about the Beaver supermoon here, and in that post I wrote about beavers, my burst of energy and surge of creativity as I worked through a pause and found new projects and books to read. I mentioned at the end about my community work making chemo hats. port pillows, and zipper pouches, and hopefully wrote: “Like the beaver, I hope that my work will ripple out and bring change in my community around me, supporting lots of new life.”
In the two weeks following that post there have been returning ripples and glimmers that were so intense that they were more like flashes of light akin to a lightning strike. Feedback that left me stunned and in tears. There’s a whole backstory here, so it will take a little to explain it all to you. Maybe you should grab a cup of tea and find some cookies. Ready? Here we go.
In 2014, after years of medical gaslighting, I was diagnosed with systemic sclerosis (a form of scleroderma) and Sjogren’s Disease. I was started on some medications, lots of tests were ordered, and just like that, my view of my future changed forever. I learned that there was a 50% fatality rate for my disease. I failed the first two drugs used to try to slow disease progression. Follow-up testing after a year showed that I had declined 27% in my lung function, and I was referred to palliative care. I was in grief. I began to compulsively knit. Overwhelmed, unable to cope with actually creating a garment that would fit, I made shawls. Lots of shawls.
I was moved to new drugs. I started a third immunosuppressive drug, one that was off-label and required a fight with the insurance company, and I began to slowly improve. Palliative care discharged me. I found more beautiful yarns to love, and more shawls to knit. The shawls began to pile up along with the number of diagnosed complicating conditions that were linked to my underlying autoimmune diseases, but I was okay; I had essentially knitted (and blogged) my way through grief, and I was now ready to take things on. I found new doctors who became collaborative partners in my care and faced down the monsters of new complications. Today I am much, much better than expected; my latest lung testing shows that my lungs have regained more function, and my PAH is under control. My cardiologist rarely mentions heart failure when he talks to me, and I am off oxygen.
As I got better, I began to knit sweaters. Lots of sweaters. I began to look for a home for the shawls. Last spring a friend mentioned the needs of patients at a rehab center in Estes Park, Colorado that she worked with. People often arrived there precipitously with little more than the clothes on their backs, and they needed warm clothes. She was thinking hats, mittens, and scarves, but I sent about 10 shawls.
Saturday, I asked her what had happened to the shawls. The rehab center has the shawls all displayed on quilt hangers that they installed, and patients take them to wrap up in when they go to meetings or whenever they need the comfort of yarny goodness. Instead of going to just a few patients, they are there for all, part of their recovery journey. Evidently, they are popular, and the center could use more. I was stunned, struck by a glimmer so intense that it was a bolt. I started crying. Those shawls, those things that brought me through a really bad time, are now doing the same for others. I had hoped that my work would ripple out a little, but this was so, so much more than I expected.
I have bundled up all of my remaining shawls, keeping only three back for myself, and I plan to send the rest up to the rehab center before the end of the year.
Shine on, Beaver Supermoon, shine on.
Footnotes:
Another glimmer: my son’s three cats were rehomed together to a wonderful lady who had lost a beloved cat. All three kitties are now happy in their new home, piling on and cuddling with her while she crochets in the evenings.
My medical adventures continue, but after conferencing with my doctors following the latest round of testing, we have all decided to delay starting a third medication to treat my PAH (that’s pulmonary arterial hypertension if you are new to this blog…). That is kind of huge. I have SSc-ILD (interstitial lung disease associated with systemic sclerosis… do you see why they use acronyms?…), but I am not putting down scar tissue (fibrosis), and that is even more huge: it is rare to have one without the other. Do you see the glimmer? My prognosis for this condition, the leading cause of death for patients with systemic sclerosis, is stabilizing into the “she’s doing really well” column, and that is why we can afford to delay this drug.
My wrists and knee (the one that was injured in a fall this summer) concerned my rheumatologist, and she has ordered specialized testing, but all things considered, I am doing really well.
Glimmers and ripples.
The best two weeks ever.
Did you enjoy your tea and cookies?
Yarn, Books & Roses 
My goodness! Glimmers and ripples indeed. I’m so pleased to hear of your improved health and to know that over ten years out you are doing well, even better than expected, and still here producing inspirational blog posts.
I’m delighted to hear that a loving soul took in all three of your son’s cats. That’s a gift right there, and no doubt a massive relief. She’s also given herself the gift of three cats to love.
Your shawl story is profoundly touching, rippling out as you’ve said in ways you never imagined. That’s such a clever idea.
I’m sending loving energy your way. Alys
It really was a couple of weeks of good news. The woman who took the cats has become a friend and she sends me texts and pictures of the cats. They are really attaching to her and I can’t believe how incredibly lucky to have found them the perfect, loving home.
Who could have imagined that those shawls would fill a need like that. I didn’t mention it, but this rehab center is in the mountains, and it can really be cold up there.
Wow! I’m so happy to hear all your good news. You’re wonderfully, caring and sharing! I have two of your beautiful shawls and I get compliments when I wear them.
My pulmonologist is just thrilled with the progress. My last lung scans show that I am still experiencing active disease, but I am so stable at the moment he decided to wait a year for the next one because my lung capacity came up again.
I do remember giving you one shawl. I’m glad that you can use them.
Marilyn, my clever, clever friend – my brave and never backward-looking friend … you take the cake.
Today I am lost for words.
Just keep being you: there cannot possibly be anyone else like you.
XXOXOX
Cake! I just remembered that I have some pumpkin cheesecake in the fridge. 🙂 I have been really trying to create as much useful and positive as I can, but I never ever thought that the shawls would be used for something like this. It is a huge gift that things worked out this way.
Our organization also sewed a bunch of bags/totes for an emergency response non-profit and they used them all responding to an apartment fire situation. I have fabric that came to me from my sister’s estate, and I am going to sew up a bunch of bags now too using her stuff. She would be so happy.
You can be absolutely sure of that, you amazing woman !!
I mouthed YES to the glimmers and ripples. Such good news.
You have used the Beaver Moon as a splendid metaphor for your own hard work. Throughout the years you have been generously inspirational. It is so good to know that you feel really well. Mine is coffee without cookies
I drank coffee while I wrote the post. 🙂
“The best two weeks ever.”
Wonderful to see that. I’m going to pay closer attention to supermoons from now on.
Great news about the beautiful kitties. There are plenty of cat lovers in the world but I’m not sure how many would take three at a time.
Loved reading that the shawls went to Estes, up in my favorite part of the world.
The next full moon is on Dec. 5th, and it will be the Cold Supermoon. Hmm… I’ll have to think about that one for a while.
This wonderful woman was located through contacts in my scleroderma support group. I am so, so lucky that I have these networks of friends, and it is hard to imagine finding a better home for my son’s cats.
Such wonderful news all the way around. Reading this made me tear up, twice! Thank you for sharing. And thank you for your good knitted sharing too.
I literally started crying when I heard about the shawls. 🙂
Such a moving post x
Some really great things to celebrate! Your improving health, the sharing of shawls that make a difference, the home for your son’s cats. Celebrating with you.
Thank you. It was quite a week last week!
I really enjoyed reading this. I’m glad you’re doing better, and I’m glad your son’s cats will be together. (If I lived up in your area, I would have been happy to take them! 🩷)
After the worst summer ever, it is just a gift to have so many things go well. The latest round of testing was just icing on the cake. I feel better, and the test results reflect the improvement.
You bet I did. So wonderful to hear your good news!! You needed some good news. How fantastic that your shawls are bringing comfort to those that really need it. Great news that your son’s cats get to stay together in a wonderful home.
I had coffee and cookies while I wrote the post. The best way to write!!
I didn’t have cookies, but I did have leftover apple pie! That’s a lot of good glimmers. I really love the way the shawls are getting used.