Two Sides of Healing

Quote image shared from @TherapyQuotes

I hope everyone welcomed 2026 surrounded by joy, hope, and love. There is something powerful about the turning of a calendar year; an invitation to pause, reflect, and step forward with intention.

For me, the first day of the new year arrived quietly and with purpose. I completed a cycle of my new medication and entered what is known as a rest week. This pause is intentional. It allows my body time to recover, rebuild my blood counts, and regain strength before beginning my next cycle next Thursday. Healing, I am learning once again, is not only about action. It is also about rest.

Next week brings another layer of care. I will receive maintenance infusions and have blood work completed to see how this new treatment is supporting stabilization. I will also meet with my General Physician Oncologist to review results and discuss plans for Costa Rica. These conversations are part of the practical side of healing, appointments, monitoring, adjustments, and planning life alongside treatment rather than placing life on hold. This is where the two sides of healing become clear.

One side is medical and measurable. It includes medications, infusions, counselling, lab work, and the expertise of health-care teams who guide us with science and skill. These supports matter deeply. They help steady us, strengthen us, and give our bodies what they need.

The other side of healing is human. It is how we choose to live our days. It is being present. It is joy. It is listening to our bodies, honouring fatigue, allowing rest, and doing what brings meaning even in the midst of uncertainty.

For those of us facing challenges in 2026: illness, chronic disease, cancer, or other life-altering circumstance, the photo message matters. Rising above is rarely loud or dramatic. It happens in the daily choices to balance medicine with humanity, treatment with tenderness, and structure with joy.

On every form shared across my healthcare team are these words written by my oncologist: “She is leaving for Costa Rica on January 21. Let’s make this happen.”

Those words matter. My oncologist understands that healing is supported not only by protocols, but by how I choose to live. He supports my moving forward when I can, pulling back when I need to, and remaining focused on what brings me joy.

As Ray and I prepare for our upcoming flight to Costa Rica, we are deeply grateful to be able to continue to travel this year. We do not worry about what lies beyond today. Whatever happens in the future is not ours to carry right now.

January 2nd is. And today, the work is simple: to live fully, to honour both sides of healing, and to choose presence over fear, one quiet, meaningful day at a time.