Radiation day 25 of 35
It's confirmed...my oncologist is spared the unpleasant task of being force fed a desk...and I am not going to have round 3 of chemo. I don't think it is low blood counts, as my blood counts are good. I think he really doesn't think round 3 is necessary. I also found out, most patients with the same diagnosis only get two rounds of chemo. So... I am one relieved human being. And so is he!!! To be safe, he sent his assistant in to sub for him today...I wonder who tipped him off.
My energy level is akin to a rock...I would lose a race with a snail ( at least in the past, it would have been close)... and I would not try to arm wrestle a baby, because I would lose. Starting today, I am adding a second dose of narcotic pain meds each day to help get me through the day. Enough of symptom talk.
After much consideration, I have decided to share ( briefly) my thoughts on how to eat a desk...
1. Remove all screws, nails, hardware, fancy drawer pulls, etc. You may think these things are necessary, but what you will learn is that much of what you thought was necessary is not only superfluous, but actually a hindrance to your goal ahead. You will come to recognize the beauty of a plain wood desk is in the plain wood, not the bling. Adding bling is often biting off more than you are prepared to chew, so to speak.
2. Carefully saw the desk into 1000 exactly equal portions. Just do it. You will realize that the loss you feel is only temporary...you really are just changing the form of the desk, and it will be reassembled internally. You will not lose everything, it will only seem that way for a brief time. You are losing nothing.
3. Put the 1000 pieces into 1000 baggies. You must never look at the pieces again as one big desk. You will become discouraged. Instead, you will have one baggie (Tuesday's baggie) to contend with. That is all.
4. Get a good night's sleep...tomorrow will be a big day.
5. Wake early and retrieve a baggie. This is your day's project. Begin by sanding it finely into sawdust. Again, do not grieve; it is just changing forms, and you have lost nothing. Never think things must stay the same. You will never get the desk eaten that way.
6. Here is where you get to make a few decisions. This is your day... If you'd like, charge right in and begin washing down bites of sawdust...or, if you prefer, take some time and spread it out a little and bake it into muffins, bread, sprinkle on cereal, oatmeal, etc. Perhaps you might prefer to vary your routine. You have many options...more choices than you realize, and none have to be permanent, as tomorrow you get to choose again, anew. Try to finish early enough in the evening that there is time to reflect on your day's accomplishment and time to relax a bit. Be thankful for your day. Be grateful and appreciative of the new recipes offered you (sawdust soup, sawdust stew, sawdust a la mode, etc.) Your job is done. Never let sawdust dominate your thoughts. Think instead of all the people who were kind, and the people you might one day help through the same or similar trials...some may just be eating pencils, some armoires. And remember that you still have a life...sawdust is not and never will be your life. Your life is still precious. Each day is still precious.
7. Never tell yourself..."I have to eat a desk." Just recognize one baggie as your day's labor. A baggie is not a desk. A desk could not fit in a baggie. After all, who could possibly eat a desk?
8. (Optional) ...start a blog...write one entry....maybe others will become interested in seeing if you could really do it, and find ways to encourage you. Maybe you will be blessed to discover love and friendship hiding in the words along the way. (one doesn't need a blog for this to occur). Flowing from God, from family, from friends, even from strangers.
9. Repeat #5-8 for 1000 days.
10. After day 1000, wait a few months...you will slowly lose the taste of sawdust on your tongue until eventually, even you will wonder if you really did something that difficult.
11. Have a large piece of pizza with NO sawdust... and smile...you ate a desk!!!! You have become MORE than what you were! You may forget the desk...but dare not ever forget the love....recognize that that is what it has been about all along... Some of us are so blockheaded we have to eat a desk to learn such a simple lesson.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
checking in- blum returns to Earth
radiation day 24 of 35
Yesterday was a moody one. So many people have been reminding me how "close" I am to the end of treatment, and I did not feel at all close to the end of anything. I wanted to pitch the acorns (I didn't) and I wanted to be grumpy (I was). I was having a fair amount of discomfort. I wanted to loudly say (I am not really able to raise my voice much above a whisper) ..."Cant you see I am no longer living in the same time zone as the rest of you "normal" people. One day can seem to last a year, and one week is like a decade. Anyway; I am back today. Two weeks from tomorrow and the radiation ends. I am sort of counting again.
The radiation oncologist tells me to try to eat and drink, or at least sip on some liquids. I look at him like he is an alien from the planet Zork...the place where one can do whatever is impossible. He looks at me like I am from the planet Dork...the place where patients are always noncompliant. It's a stalemate. He tells me if I stop swallowing food and water, it will take longer for that to come back. What does he mean..."if" I stop swallowing? I tell him every time I see him that I am NOT eating or drinking. Next time I see him, I will strike a deal...if he will eat his desk, I will drink a cup of water.
I once contemplated how I might eat a desk...over a very long period of time with a lot of sandpaper. I am sure it can be done. Lots of fiber as well, so you know it's going to help in other ways.
I am more chipper today because I did not get sick during the night. I slept propped sitting upright in bed. That helped. I am sure that getting sick when one's throat is completely swollen, burnt, radiated and raw is one of the TOP 10 most awful things to go through on any given September night. I pray none of you ever have to have that experience.
It was around 40 degrees this morning...to think, I started radiation in August!!! Tomorrow is my appt with my medical oncologist. He has implied that we are going to skip the last chemo round. If he confirms it, I will be sooooo happy. If he changes his mind...I will MAKE HIM eat his desk.
One other good bit of news...I did not drop any weight this past week. I am holding steady at 145.
Yesterday was a moody one. So many people have been reminding me how "close" I am to the end of treatment, and I did not feel at all close to the end of anything. I wanted to pitch the acorns (I didn't) and I wanted to be grumpy (I was). I was having a fair amount of discomfort. I wanted to loudly say (I am not really able to raise my voice much above a whisper) ..."Cant you see I am no longer living in the same time zone as the rest of you "normal" people. One day can seem to last a year, and one week is like a decade. Anyway; I am back today. Two weeks from tomorrow and the radiation ends. I am sort of counting again.
The radiation oncologist tells me to try to eat and drink, or at least sip on some liquids. I look at him like he is an alien from the planet Zork...the place where one can do whatever is impossible. He looks at me like I am from the planet Dork...the place where patients are always noncompliant. It's a stalemate. He tells me if I stop swallowing food and water, it will take longer for that to come back. What does he mean..."if" I stop swallowing? I tell him every time I see him that I am NOT eating or drinking. Next time I see him, I will strike a deal...if he will eat his desk, I will drink a cup of water.
I once contemplated how I might eat a desk...over a very long period of time with a lot of sandpaper. I am sure it can be done. Lots of fiber as well, so you know it's going to help in other ways.
I am more chipper today because I did not get sick during the night. I slept propped sitting upright in bed. That helped. I am sure that getting sick when one's throat is completely swollen, burnt, radiated and raw is one of the TOP 10 most awful things to go through on any given September night. I pray none of you ever have to have that experience.
It was around 40 degrees this morning...to think, I started radiation in August!!! Tomorrow is my appt with my medical oncologist. He has implied that we are going to skip the last chemo round. If he confirms it, I will be sooooo happy. If he changes his mind...I will MAKE HIM eat his desk.
One other good bit of news...I did not drop any weight this past week. I am holding steady at 145.
Monday, September 28, 2009
checking in - hold a second absolutely still
radiation day
to not move a single fiber of time, to not let one tick follow another, to keep this second suspended forever, to resist the count, to resist the passing, to resist all indication that this day followed that and or will yet be followed by another to take this very moment and hold it fast. to bring it to a stop. complete. not budge from it. to hold one thought still. completely still. silent.
I breathe nothing but stillness.
to not move a single fiber of time, to not let one tick follow another, to keep this second suspended forever, to resist the count, to resist the passing, to resist all indication that this day followed that and or will yet be followed by another to take this very moment and hold it fast. to bring it to a stop. complete. not budge from it. to hold one thought still. completely still. silent.
I breathe nothing but stillness.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
deeper things - giving thanks
I am in a better place today. Not physically, but emotionally. I am not feeling despair. I am alert (and fully oriented) and really taking today as it comes. I actually drove the two miles to my office and did a few hours of insurance claims paperwork that had been stacking up before all this started. I've enjoyed some NFL games. And I've just lived Sunday. I am thankful for this day, and this weekend. I am thankful to God for this day.
"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." I Thes5:16-18
Here's what I think about those verses. They are easy to recite. They are transforming to live. Maybe I will "learn" nothing new on this journey, but I am being given an opportunity to live a little more authentically when it counts. And as today is being received, that's where I am living. How awesome. And to be honest, it does put a little more spark into me physically as well. Just today, Steve, just today. I am giving thanks and feeling thankful. Really pretty thankful.
Lord, look ...I'm livin it today!!!
That blows me away.
"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." I Thes5:16-18
Here's what I think about those verses. They are easy to recite. They are transforming to live. Maybe I will "learn" nothing new on this journey, but I am being given an opportunity to live a little more authentically when it counts. And as today is being received, that's where I am living. How awesome. And to be honest, it does put a little more spark into me physically as well. Just today, Steve, just today. I am giving thanks and feeling thankful. Really pretty thankful.
Lord, look ...I'm livin it today!!!
That blows me away.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
checking in- rambling on a weekend
I don't particurlarly feel better about myself as a person for going through this. I question myself always. But I DO feel so good about people who are using their words, their wisdom, their encouragement, their qoutes, their love to help nudge me daily toward the finish line. If I am changing at all, it is slower than anyone thinks, because I am also aware of the terrible self-pity and despair that I can conjure up for myself. But, like unexpected cake with frosting, a cup of coffee, a slice of strawberry-rhubarb pie and a bowl of fresh fruit after a fine meal, you come along and say... "this sucks, I am sorry, I feel for you, and know you can get thru it!" and you tell me that some of my words are meaningful. Just know I am refreshed by the strength and support. I can't say it enough. It is the one constant that seems real, that I do not question. Some of you I know, some of you I don't and some of you I know now in ways that I never knew you before. And, of course, Kathy is a pillar of love for me. I couldn't have made it this far without her.
There are surprises in this that no one prepared me for. How long a night can last. Some mornings I am almost delusional. For example, the other morning, after being up from 1AM to 6AM I started thinking that all my activities were being monitored by doctors in Omaha, so at least they would know how the night went, and who I spoke with during the night. One morning, I got up at 3:30AM and realized I was only given 100 more lines to write or speak until this was done. I immediately started writing a blog entry, in my head, and then tried to type it. Fortunately, I didn't hit "publish post" I think it is a combination of taking a narcotic, a sleeping pill, and still lying awake and feeling sick most of the night. I say, I am almost delusional, because the delusion passes by the time I am in the shower. Another thing I was not prepared for is how weak "feeling weak" really can be. Getting up for my 6:15 shower, even though I have been lying awake almost brings me to tears. There are mornings I wish I would just not have to face another day. (Don't worry...I am not suicidal...sir and madam, I remind you I am a psychologist! I have good insurance, and I have been in therapy with myself for nearly 30 years. I am my own longest term client.) and there is a difference in that thought and the thought that i want to be dead. What I want is to be back FROM the dead.
Here is a lovely poem...as I have mentioned...the value of a person, the value of a tree...tree of the moment --tree of my own sad, mortal heart--the value of the acorns on my window growing in a longer line.
The Oak Tree at the Entrance to Blackwater Pond
by Mary Oliver
Every day
on my way to the pond
I pass the lightning-felled,
chesty,
hundred-fingered, black oak
which, summers ago,
swam forward when the storm
laid one lean yellow wand against it, smoking it open
to its rosy heart.
It dropped down
in a veil of rain,
in a cloud of sap and fire,
and became what it has been ever since--
a black boat
floating
in the tossing leaves of summer,
like the coffin of Osiris
descending
upon the cloudy Nile.
But, listen, I'm tired of that brazen promise:
death and resurrection.
I'm tired of hearing how the nitrogens will return
to the earth again,
through the hinterland of patience--
how the mushrooms and the yeasts
will arrive in the wind--
how they'll anchor the pearls of their bodies and begin
to gnaw through the darkness,
like wolves at bones--
what I loved, I mean, what that tree--
tree of the moment--tree of my own sad, mortal heart--
and I don't want to sing anymore of the way
Osiris came home at last, on a clean
and powerful ship, over
the dangerous sea, as a tall
and beautiful stranger.
There are surprises in this that no one prepared me for. How long a night can last. Some mornings I am almost delusional. For example, the other morning, after being up from 1AM to 6AM I started thinking that all my activities were being monitored by doctors in Omaha, so at least they would know how the night went, and who I spoke with during the night. One morning, I got up at 3:30AM and realized I was only given 100 more lines to write or speak until this was done. I immediately started writing a blog entry, in my head, and then tried to type it. Fortunately, I didn't hit "publish post" I think it is a combination of taking a narcotic, a sleeping pill, and still lying awake and feeling sick most of the night. I say, I am almost delusional, because the delusion passes by the time I am in the shower. Another thing I was not prepared for is how weak "feeling weak" really can be. Getting up for my 6:15 shower, even though I have been lying awake almost brings me to tears. There are mornings I wish I would just not have to face another day. (Don't worry...I am not suicidal...sir and madam, I remind you I am a psychologist! I have good insurance, and I have been in therapy with myself for nearly 30 years. I am my own longest term client.) and there is a difference in that thought and the thought that i want to be dead. What I want is to be back FROM the dead.
Here is a lovely poem...as I have mentioned...the value of a person, the value of a tree...tree of the moment --tree of my own sad, mortal heart--the value of the acorns on my window growing in a longer line.
The Oak Tree at the Entrance to Blackwater Pond
by Mary Oliver
Every day
on my way to the pond
I pass the lightning-felled,
chesty,
hundred-fingered, black oak
which, summers ago,
swam forward when the storm
laid one lean yellow wand against it, smoking it open
to its rosy heart.
It dropped down
in a veil of rain,
in a cloud of sap and fire,
and became what it has been ever since--
a black boat
floating
in the tossing leaves of summer,
like the coffin of Osiris
descending
upon the cloudy Nile.
But, listen, I'm tired of that brazen promise:
death and resurrection.
I'm tired of hearing how the nitrogens will return
to the earth again,
through the hinterland of patience--
how the mushrooms and the yeasts
will arrive in the wind--
how they'll anchor the pearls of their bodies and begin
to gnaw through the darkness,
like wolves at bones--
what I loved, I mean, what that tree--
tree of the moment--tree of my own sad, mortal heart--
and I don't want to sing anymore of the way
Osiris came home at last, on a clean
and powerful ship, over
the dangerous sea, as a tall
and beautiful stranger.
Friday, September 25, 2009
checking in- knowledge = a little bit of power
radiation day 22 of 35
I gained a bit of knowledge yesterday about how my choices affect a few of my symptoms. I know that some of my symptoms (nausea, becoming ill) were, to some degree a function of choosing to lie in bed all day. I know that I have choices which will influence how sick I will become each day., including how I choose to get sufficient calories and water, deal with my throat issues, etc. I am helpless and miserable, but maybe not QUITE as helpless and miserable as I was believing.
Today...much like yesterday; and everything (soreness, etc.) progresses slowly and surely. Another acorn.
I gained a bit of knowledge yesterday about how my choices affect a few of my symptoms. I know that some of my symptoms (nausea, becoming ill) were, to some degree a function of choosing to lie in bed all day. I know that I have choices which will influence how sick I will become each day., including how I choose to get sufficient calories and water, deal with my throat issues, etc. I am helpless and miserable, but maybe not QUITE as helpless and miserable as I was believing.
Today...much like yesterday; and everything (soreness, etc.) progresses slowly and surely. Another acorn.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
checking in - better n'yesterday
Radiation Day 21 of 35
Didn't want to leave yesterday's post hanging...since today was an improvement over yesterday. I forced myself to sit up during the day rather than lie down and stare off into misery hour after hour. I watched some TV, and actually sipped some pureed soup dropped off by a friend...I was surprised - I hadn't had any food or liquid in the traditional way in quite some time. It was tolerable. No promises for tomorrow, but today...I swallowed soup. Plus, the nausea was contained by meds. My mouth and throat are a mess, but of course, what can one expect from this barrage of WMD's aimed at my throat day after day... not flowers.
Now, I am going to watch The Office.
"God listens"...."God hears"...that is the translation of my Hebrew name given to me at 8 days... pronounced something like "shimayah." There is a longer story here, but I'll save it for a deeper things post. Thanks again for praying.
Didn't want to leave yesterday's post hanging...since today was an improvement over yesterday. I forced myself to sit up during the day rather than lie down and stare off into misery hour after hour. I watched some TV, and actually sipped some pureed soup dropped off by a friend...I was surprised - I hadn't had any food or liquid in the traditional way in quite some time. It was tolerable. No promises for tomorrow, but today...I swallowed soup. Plus, the nausea was contained by meds. My mouth and throat are a mess, but of course, what can one expect from this barrage of WMD's aimed at my throat day after day... not flowers.
Now, I am going to watch The Office.
"God listens"...."God hears"...that is the translation of my Hebrew name given to me at 8 days... pronounced something like "shimayah." There is a longer story here, but I'll save it for a deeper things post. Thanks again for praying.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
checking in- another day
Radiation day 20 of 35
There is not much to say today. Obviously this is getting difficult. I don't know that I will even try to check in daily, but when I feel enough energy, I will. I mostly lie in bed, wiped out. I don't sleep very much, though; I am more just in some kind of twilight zone of discomfort. They were right about it getting worse as it approaches the later stages of treatment. Today I completed four of seven weeks. I can't imagine it ever coming to an end, but I know it will. Then the slow healing. Energy is all but gone. My work is to pour enough liquid and nourishment through the feeding tube to keep my fluids up; this is not as easy as it sounds. Everything seems to require monumental effort, especially when nauseated. I failed yesterday and had to do IV fluids in Omaha and I hate that. I would never have imagined this. Sorry, I know I sound and feel a pretty lousy today.
I have 16 acorns and 4 pine cones to look at, and a view of the ivy turning colors on the fence outside the window. My consolation for the day.
Thank you for praying for me...God listens.
There is not much to say today. Obviously this is getting difficult. I don't know that I will even try to check in daily, but when I feel enough energy, I will. I mostly lie in bed, wiped out. I don't sleep very much, though; I am more just in some kind of twilight zone of discomfort. They were right about it getting worse as it approaches the later stages of treatment. Today I completed four of seven weeks. I can't imagine it ever coming to an end, but I know it will. Then the slow healing. Energy is all but gone. My work is to pour enough liquid and nourishment through the feeding tube to keep my fluids up; this is not as easy as it sounds. Everything seems to require monumental effort, especially when nauseated. I failed yesterday and had to do IV fluids in Omaha and I hate that. I would never have imagined this. Sorry, I know I sound and feel a pretty lousy today.
I have 16 acorns and 4 pine cones to look at, and a view of the ivy turning colors on the fence outside the window. My consolation for the day.
Thank you for praying for me...God listens.
Monday, September 21, 2009
deeper things - stones, acorns, pine cones
Radiation day 18 of 35
Chemo made for quite a difficult weekend. Trust me. I dropped another 5 pounds, and now my job is to put some weight back.
When I was at the Ted Kooser workshop a few weeks ago, he mentioned to me a great idea. He told me that when he went through radiation, each day, he would pick up an interesting stone on his walk, and put it on his kitchen windowsill. It allowed him a visual of his progress, and at the end of his treatment, he put the stones in a pretty glass jar.
I thought that was just the kind of thing I would love to do, except for two problems:
1. My energy level is such that a walk from the bedroom to the living room wears me down.
2. Ted lives in the country where stones are more interesting.
But with nothing but time on my hands, I pondered a replacement for the stones and hit on just the thing. We have oak and pine trees in our yard. So, each day of radiation, I have been picking up one acorn to put on my bedroom windowsill, and each day when I do BOTH chemo and radiation, I pick up a pine cone. I have 14 acorns and 4 pine cones gathered on the window sill, and it is a growing collection. The Oak is prolific enough and the squirrels have let me take my daily quota. The collection is just past half way on its march across the window.
Here's why I like what I am doing. I SEE I am getting there. And the acorns and pine cones are representing for me the seeds of new life which will, prayerfully, be born of this trial. I will get a jar and treasure them when this is over.
"I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. " John 12:24
I pray the right things in me are dying, and the right things in me are springing forth with new life.
Chemo made for quite a difficult weekend. Trust me. I dropped another 5 pounds, and now my job is to put some weight back.
When I was at the Ted Kooser workshop a few weeks ago, he mentioned to me a great idea. He told me that when he went through radiation, each day, he would pick up an interesting stone on his walk, and put it on his kitchen windowsill. It allowed him a visual of his progress, and at the end of his treatment, he put the stones in a pretty glass jar.
I thought that was just the kind of thing I would love to do, except for two problems:
1. My energy level is such that a walk from the bedroom to the living room wears me down.
2. Ted lives in the country where stones are more interesting.
But with nothing but time on my hands, I pondered a replacement for the stones and hit on just the thing. We have oak and pine trees in our yard. So, each day of radiation, I have been picking up one acorn to put on my bedroom windowsill, and each day when I do BOTH chemo and radiation, I pick up a pine cone. I have 14 acorns and 4 pine cones gathered on the window sill, and it is a growing collection. The Oak is prolific enough and the squirrels have let me take my daily quota. The collection is just past half way on its march across the window.
Here's why I like what I am doing. I SEE I am getting there. And the acorns and pine cones are representing for me the seeds of new life which will, prayerfully, be born of this trial. I will get a jar and treasure them when this is over.
"I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. " John 12:24
I pray the right things in me are dying, and the right things in me are springing forth with new life.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
checking in - Doctors' conference...
Overheard while doing chemo 9/17/09
Doctor 1 : "I think we have this Blum guy right where we want him...we knocked out his defenses with radiation..."
Doctor 2: "then to increase the kill, we zapped him with a powerful poison.
He looks like hell! He stopped shaving, is emaciated, drags in here like he's half dead!" Did you see those black and blue arms?"
Doctor 3: "yes, but what can we do to enhance the chemo?"
Med. student 1: "You guys know I've got to come up with some research for my program or I'm toast; I was wondering about a hypothesis I had...what if we encased his upper body in a sealed airtight container and dropped in a few pellets of nerve gas..surely this would add some punch to the chemo."
Doctor 1: "Fascinating hypothesis, but how would we ever get it by the ethics committee?"
Med. student 1: "I've got that worked out...we'll propose something MORE controversial, and then compromise with the nerve gas."
Doctor 2: "And what could be more controversial than nerve gas?"
Med. student 1: "I was thinking....waterboarding!!!"
Med. student 2: "WAIT!!! THAT WAS MY HYPOTHESIS ABOUT HOW I THOUGHT WE COULD ENHANCE THE NERVE GAS!"
Doctor 3: "And how would you get THAT one by the ethics committee?"
Med student 2: nervously...."well, I still have a few dozen pens from the Phizer rep, and a few dozen Viagra samples to hand out"
Doctor 1: "Toss in a few of those LED lighted keychains, and we may have a chance."
Doctor 1 : "I think we have this Blum guy right where we want him...we knocked out his defenses with radiation..."
Doctor 2: "then to increase the kill, we zapped him with a powerful poison.
He looks like hell! He stopped shaving, is emaciated, drags in here like he's half dead!" Did you see those black and blue arms?"
Doctor 3: "yes, but what can we do to enhance the chemo?"
Med. student 1: "You guys know I've got to come up with some research for my program or I'm toast; I was wondering about a hypothesis I had...what if we encased his upper body in a sealed airtight container and dropped in a few pellets of nerve gas..surely this would add some punch to the chemo."
Doctor 1: "Fascinating hypothesis, but how would we ever get it by the ethics committee?"
Med. student 1: "I've got that worked out...we'll propose something MORE controversial, and then compromise with the nerve gas."
Doctor 2: "And what could be more controversial than nerve gas?"
Med. student 1: "I was thinking....waterboarding!!!"
Med. student 2: "WAIT!!! THAT WAS MY HYPOTHESIS ABOUT HOW I THOUGHT WE COULD ENHANCE THE NERVE GAS!"
Doctor 3: "And how would you get THAT one by the ethics committee?"
Med student 2: nervously...."well, I still have a few dozen pens from the Phizer rep, and a few dozen Viagra samples to hand out"
Doctor 1: "Toss in a few of those LED lighted keychains, and we may have a chance."
Friday, September 18, 2009
checking in - bed-in
Radiation day 17 of 35 ... 2nd of 3 rounds of chemo complete
"all we are saying ...is give peace a chance"
No, wait...that was John and Yoko and that was nearly 40 years ago, and they were singing and laughing during their bed-in.
And they had Tommy Smothers and Timothy Leary and dozens of others bedside.
My day in bed was a bit more subdued. Just two companians...Nausea and fatigue. Even Simcha has left me alone today. She herself, having her own bed-in, is hiding somewhere in the house. After our morning jaunt to Omaha for radiation, Kathy took off for work, and thus far I have spent the remainder (95%) of the day in bed, with, have I mentioned...nausea and fatigue? Nausea...and fatigue. I don't mind the fatigue, though I have been contemplating a walk to the curb to check the mail for the past hour, and my energy level says..."maybe in awhile." But the nausea, in spite of Zofran, Compazine, some steroid, and some other drug this morning (Emend), still remains, though I am sure those drugs have had some impact.
I have two words to sum up the day (no, not nausea and fatigue... good guess though)....CHEMO SUCKS.
Back to bed.
"all we are saying ...is give peace a chance"
No, wait...that was John and Yoko and that was nearly 40 years ago, and they were singing and laughing during their bed-in.
And they had Tommy Smothers and Timothy Leary and dozens of others bedside.
My day in bed was a bit more subdued. Just two companians...Nausea and fatigue. Even Simcha has left me alone today. She herself, having her own bed-in, is hiding somewhere in the house. After our morning jaunt to Omaha for radiation, Kathy took off for work, and thus far I have spent the remainder (95%) of the day in bed, with, have I mentioned...nausea and fatigue? Nausea...and fatigue. I don't mind the fatigue, though I have been contemplating a walk to the curb to check the mail for the past hour, and my energy level says..."maybe in awhile." But the nausea, in spite of Zofran, Compazine, some steroid, and some other drug this morning (Emend), still remains, though I am sure those drugs have had some impact.
I have two words to sum up the day (no, not nausea and fatigue... good guess though)....CHEMO SUCKS.
Back to bed.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
checking in - a "better" day
radiation - day 16 of 35...... chemo 2nd of 3 cycles complete
A better day in that the kindly nurse found a good vein that she hit with one poke and it held up throughout the day. What a relief that was. My arms look pretty beat up. The routine got started earlier as well, so we were done by 3:30PM. Now, it's managing the nausea day by day for a few days. Tomorrow, "just" radiation. And essentially 1/2 way through that ordeal. Then, a weekend to relax, hopefully feel well enough to watch the Nebraska Cornhusker game on TV Saturday, and catch up on some sleep.
For the most part, the medical team has been caring and positive, and this has made a great difference. I hear good comments about the competence and skill of my oncologist; this too, is reassuring.
I am so relieved to have today behind me. My white blood cell count has dropped some, but it was good enough to get the green light for this round of chemo. We will see where it lands in 3 weeks. My blood pressure yesterday was 90 over 58...but it rose a little today. Other labs came back OK.
Good, good, good.
Good night, friends.
More tomorrow.
A better day in that the kindly nurse found a good vein that she hit with one poke and it held up throughout the day. What a relief that was. My arms look pretty beat up. The routine got started earlier as well, so we were done by 3:30PM. Now, it's managing the nausea day by day for a few days. Tomorrow, "just" radiation. And essentially 1/2 way through that ordeal. Then, a weekend to relax, hopefully feel well enough to watch the Nebraska Cornhusker game on TV Saturday, and catch up on some sleep.
For the most part, the medical team has been caring and positive, and this has made a great difference. I hear good comments about the competence and skill of my oncologist; this too, is reassuring.
I am so relieved to have today behind me. My white blood cell count has dropped some, but it was good enough to get the green light for this round of chemo. We will see where it lands in 3 weeks. My blood pressure yesterday was 90 over 58...but it rose a little today. Other labs came back OK.
Good, good, good.
Good night, friends.
More tomorrow.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
checking in - deeper things - courage
Radiaton day 15... Chemo, cycle 2 day 1
Today was as it should have been - difficult. Radiation at 9:15, a two hour wait to see the oncologist, then 6 hours of chemotherapy. My veins did not cooperate nor hold up well to the onslaught, thus, both arms are now pretty well bruised up. Tomorrow will be interesting. It is to be a repeat of today sans visit with the oncologist, so we might get out of there at 4:00 instead of 6:00PM. I have a boatload of pills to be taking over the next three days to minimize nausea. Enough of the gory details, it was NO fun.
Since I had so much time to think today, I thought. Here is what I decided about the whole courage business. Courage is not looking at the impossible mountain that lies ahead and charging forward like Mel Gibson in Braveheart. Courage, at least for me, is making a decision to entrust that impossible mountain to God. In return, He entrusts back to me the next 3 feet of the path and I look squarely at that three feet and decide, "I can take that next step" and I lift up my foot and move it forward. And, I realized, to my surprise, I have been finding this courage after all. I think I am being infused not just by those awful chemicals, but by the prayers, well wishes and love of family, friends, and you reader friends. And it re-fills that courage reservoir.
One more thought. If you don't hear from me tomorrow, assume it was like today...I'll check in if it was not. Enough of the bad stuff for a day or two. Please, instead, find me and meet me in the song below...listen, and I will meet you about halfway through it...I will be there.
Today was as it should have been - difficult. Radiation at 9:15, a two hour wait to see the oncologist, then 6 hours of chemotherapy. My veins did not cooperate nor hold up well to the onslaught, thus, both arms are now pretty well bruised up. Tomorrow will be interesting. It is to be a repeat of today sans visit with the oncologist, so we might get out of there at 4:00 instead of 6:00PM. I have a boatload of pills to be taking over the next three days to minimize nausea. Enough of the gory details, it was NO fun.
Since I had so much time to think today, I thought. Here is what I decided about the whole courage business. Courage is not looking at the impossible mountain that lies ahead and charging forward like Mel Gibson in Braveheart. Courage, at least for me, is making a decision to entrust that impossible mountain to God. In return, He entrusts back to me the next 3 feet of the path and I look squarely at that three feet and decide, "I can take that next step" and I lift up my foot and move it forward. And, I realized, to my surprise, I have been finding this courage after all. I think I am being infused not just by those awful chemicals, but by the prayers, well wishes and love of family, friends, and you reader friends. And it re-fills that courage reservoir.
One more thought. If you don't hear from me tomorrow, assume it was like today...I'll check in if it was not. Enough of the bad stuff for a day or two. Please, instead, find me and meet me in the song below...listen, and I will meet you about halfway through it...I will be there.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
checking in - last day of work
Radiation day 14
Today, I see my last client before taking a break till November. As hard a decision as this was, I am certain it is right. I've not taken more than about 10 days of vacation a year in the last 15 years,(and not a day of sick leave!) and there is that whole "work is my identity" issue, but I am not fit to work. I get fatigued in voice, body, focus, throat and even sitting in a chair is draining. I am ready to take my afternoons at home. Tomorrow begins my second round of chemo, right after radiation and a chat with the oncologist. I'm feeling lousy and tired today, and sitting at my desk right now, I want to be home. (I will be in 90 minutes.) I met with the dietician/nutritionist today, and was told to up my intake of calories by about 50% to 5 or 6 cans of product through the feeding PEG each day. I had just gotten it up to 3 cans.
It was difficult to hear about Patrick Swayze. He was my age (57). Of course, pancreatic cancer is so much more lethal, and I can't compare what I am going through, but it seems everywhere there is cancer. These days, I have so much more appreciation and admiration for people who fight bravely, and I am in awe of the courage of some people. Indeed, I am going through what I am going through, but I go through it as one who wants to hide under the covers till the storm passes. In fact, I am dreading the next 72 hours, and keeping a close eye on all the anti-nausea meds. It's a long way till tomorrow.
Today, I see my last client before taking a break till November. As hard a decision as this was, I am certain it is right. I've not taken more than about 10 days of vacation a year in the last 15 years,(and not a day of sick leave!) and there is that whole "work is my identity" issue, but I am not fit to work. I get fatigued in voice, body, focus, throat and even sitting in a chair is draining. I am ready to take my afternoons at home. Tomorrow begins my second round of chemo, right after radiation and a chat with the oncologist. I'm feeling lousy and tired today, and sitting at my desk right now, I want to be home. (I will be in 90 minutes.) I met with the dietician/nutritionist today, and was told to up my intake of calories by about 50% to 5 or 6 cans of product through the feeding PEG each day. I had just gotten it up to 3 cans.
It was difficult to hear about Patrick Swayze. He was my age (57). Of course, pancreatic cancer is so much more lethal, and I can't compare what I am going through, but it seems everywhere there is cancer. These days, I have so much more appreciation and admiration for people who fight bravely, and I am in awe of the courage of some people. Indeed, I am going through what I am going through, but I go through it as one who wants to hide under the covers till the storm passes. In fact, I am dreading the next 72 hours, and keeping a close eye on all the anti-nausea meds. It's a long way till tomorrow.
Monday, September 14, 2009
deeper things - autumn - Part 2
Day 13 Radiation
Today, so far, just tired. Kathy drove and I slept on and off up and back from Omaha. My throat is no better, but no worse, than it has been for the past few days. For me, "no worse" is a good day and gets me one day closer. I couldn't leave the subject of Autumn without a Mary Oliver poem. I know I am jumping the gun a little with this Autumn stuff, but with cooler mornings and some trees being first in line and showing they are ready, I am anxious to proceed and say goodbye to summer. How about this line:
"how everything lives, shifting
from one bright vision to another, forever
in these momentary pastures."
We just continue to be transformed from one bright vision to another...nothing stops changing, nothing can be held fixed. I am moving through this, and yes, despite my sceptical dark days, even this will be behind... underfoot... some distant memory...there are still colors to behold here... in my dark days, there are still colors on the edges of things...to be experienced and moved through and surrendered. And, when I get weary, He is still there, making me lie down in green pastures beside still waters.
Fall Song
Another year gone, leaving everywhere
its rich spiced residues: vines, leaves,
the uneaten fruits crumbling damply
in the shadows, unmattering back
from the particular island
of this summer, this NOW, that now is nowhere
except underfoot, moldering
in that black subterranean castle
of unobservable mysteries - roots and sealed seeds
and the wanderings of water. This
I try to remember when time's measure
painfully chafes, for instance when autumn
flares out at the last, boisterous and like us longing
to stay - how everything lives, shifting
from one bright vision to another, forever
in these momentary pastures.
~ Mary Oliver ~
Today, so far, just tired. Kathy drove and I slept on and off up and back from Omaha. My throat is no better, but no worse, than it has been for the past few days. For me, "no worse" is a good day and gets me one day closer. I couldn't leave the subject of Autumn without a Mary Oliver poem. I know I am jumping the gun a little with this Autumn stuff, but with cooler mornings and some trees being first in line and showing they are ready, I am anxious to proceed and say goodbye to summer. How about this line:
"how everything lives, shifting
from one bright vision to another, forever
in these momentary pastures."
We just continue to be transformed from one bright vision to another...nothing stops changing, nothing can be held fixed. I am moving through this, and yes, despite my sceptical dark days, even this will be behind... underfoot... some distant memory...there are still colors to behold here... in my dark days, there are still colors on the edges of things...to be experienced and moved through and surrendered. And, when I get weary, He is still there, making me lie down in green pastures beside still waters.
Fall Song
Another year gone, leaving everywhere
its rich spiced residues: vines, leaves,
the uneaten fruits crumbling damply
in the shadows, unmattering back
from the particular island
of this summer, this NOW, that now is nowhere
except underfoot, moldering
in that black subterranean castle
of unobservable mysteries - roots and sealed seeds
and the wanderings of water. This
I try to remember when time's measure
painfully chafes, for instance when autumn
flares out at the last, boisterous and like us longing
to stay - how everything lives, shifting
from one bright vision to another, forever
in these momentary pastures.
~ Mary Oliver ~
Sunday, September 13, 2009
deeper things - autumn
A better day, physically and emotionally. It really is true that I can't tell you about tomorrow today. On a bad day, the discouragement and discomfort have a feeling of things sliding down toward a dark ending; it becomes difficult to see past this. But on a better day, I think...this really sucks...I am going to go on longer morning walks and enjoy every bite of food and the coolness of water and I am going to be the word of encouragement and the hand of kindness at every turn of my days.
I love the Autumn. As I walk into it along with my walk through treatment, I am resolved to enter it as a season of celebration and color and beauty, not a season of dying. And as Autumn slides toward inevitable winter, and I toward tougher days, I will come back and revisit this poem. And, truth be told, I love spring, as well!
Autumn
I want to mention
summer ending
without meaning the death
of somebody loved
or even the death
of the trees.
Today in the market
I heard a mother say
Look at the pumpkins,
it’s finally autumn!
And the child didn’t think
of the death of her mother
which is due before her own
but tasted the sound
of the words on her clumsy tongue:
pumpkin; autumn.
Let the eye enlarge
with all it beholds.
I want to celebrate
color, how one red leaf
flickers like a match
held to a dry branch,
and the whole world goes up
in orange and gold.
~ Linda Pastan
I love the Autumn. As I walk into it along with my walk through treatment, I am resolved to enter it as a season of celebration and color and beauty, not a season of dying. And as Autumn slides toward inevitable winter, and I toward tougher days, I will come back and revisit this poem. And, truth be told, I love spring, as well!
Autumn
I want to mention
summer ending
without meaning the death
of somebody loved
or even the death
of the trees.
Today in the market
I heard a mother say
Look at the pumpkins,
it’s finally autumn!
And the child didn’t think
of the death of her mother
which is due before her own
but tasted the sound
of the words on her clumsy tongue:
pumpkin; autumn.
Let the eye enlarge
with all it beholds.
I want to celebrate
color, how one red leaf
flickers like a match
held to a dry branch,
and the whole world goes up
in orange and gold.
~ Linda Pastan
Saturday, September 12, 2009
checking in - time slows
Time is slowing to a crawl. This morning I was up at about 2AM and my dry mouth and sore throat were just distracting enough to keep me awake. But I did go to the Ted Kooser workshop and lasted all 5 hours. It was enjoyable and helpful; he is such a good and gentle man and talented writer and poet. It was also encouraging to see someone who has been through the exact treatment and survived. I spent a few minutes talking with Ted at the break, and he had the same chemo (Cisplatin) and the same protocol of radiation 11 years ago. He was so beat up by the radiation, he only did one cycle of chemo. His salivary glands never came back, but he has learned to live with that with minimal discomfort. He seems to be a man that really appreciates the small details of life each day. Affirming...I want to be there. The only food that he can't eat is rice, because of the stickiness of it. Though I enjoyed the workshop, as the day wore on, I spent more and more time debating with myself "should I stay or should I go." I stayed.
My moods seem to change more quickly than time. I am up, then I feel down, then I feel some fear, then back to being hopeful. I don't know. I feel tired a lot, and maybe that will help me in some way to get through this...providing I will sleep. Even when I am just lying in bed, I can sometimes get in a zone where I feel at peace and comfortable. I took an Oxycodone today; I have some fear about that...not that I'll become dependent, but that I should save the big guns for when things are worse. It is, I am sure, a false belief about "toughening." I also try not to wear gloves before Thanksgiving...don't ask...that's usually a challenge in Nebraska.
I'd rather do a "deeper things" post, and I thought I'd be inspired by the workshop to do that...but I feel tired right now, and I didn't want to let 2 days go without posting. I am also failing today in my "one day at a time" rule, and I am really wanting it to be next Saturday; next Saturday I can think about being half way home and two of three chemo cycles completed. Until then, I am feeling a nagging feeling that this journey will just go on and on and on... It takes a physical toll, it takes an emotional toll, and the bruises and the discouragement are slow to heal.
I am discouraging myself with this entry. I hope to stay honest and whether I am encouraged or discouraged, not edit my moods. Here is one thing I am learning about this process. One day doesn't predict the next and there are spaces in time that are so huge I can get lost in them. I am all over the map.
My moods seem to change more quickly than time. I am up, then I feel down, then I feel some fear, then back to being hopeful. I don't know. I feel tired a lot, and maybe that will help me in some way to get through this...providing I will sleep. Even when I am just lying in bed, I can sometimes get in a zone where I feel at peace and comfortable. I took an Oxycodone today; I have some fear about that...not that I'll become dependent, but that I should save the big guns for when things are worse. It is, I am sure, a false belief about "toughening." I also try not to wear gloves before Thanksgiving...don't ask...that's usually a challenge in Nebraska.
I'd rather do a "deeper things" post, and I thought I'd be inspired by the workshop to do that...but I feel tired right now, and I didn't want to let 2 days go without posting. I am also failing today in my "one day at a time" rule, and I am really wanting it to be next Saturday; next Saturday I can think about being half way home and two of three chemo cycles completed. Until then, I am feeling a nagging feeling that this journey will just go on and on and on... It takes a physical toll, it takes an emotional toll, and the bruises and the discouragement are slow to heal.
I am discouraging myself with this entry. I hope to stay honest and whether I am encouraged or discouraged, not edit my moods. Here is one thing I am learning about this process. One day doesn't predict the next and there are spaces in time that are so huge I can get lost in them. I am all over the map.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
checking in - don't cry for me, cream cheese
Radiation day 11
I think I am ready to throw in the towel on trying to eat food. It's a conspiracy of factors which include:
1. the perversion of all taste - even bland is now tasting really, really foul.
2. sore throat
3. depletion of saliva
4. loss of appetite
5. increased difficulty swallowing
Ciao spaghetti, I will not forget you or your friend lasagna; Min tian jian Chinese food, you special pal; catch you later, BBQ ribs; adios burrito and taco; see ya, burger & fries; shalom, bagel & lox...don't cry for me, cream cheese... another day, another day, and we will reunite with gusto.
Oddly, since eating has become so aversive, it doesn't feel like a current loss to give it up...rather, it's just a new way of doing business to get my nutritional needs and fluid intake accomplished. Someday, I am going to really enjoy a large plate of spaghetti, garlic bread, salad, and plenty of ice water. And for dessert, a nice piece of strawberry-rhubarb pie and a cup of steaming hot coffee. In the meantime...pass me that can of Ensure and get lost.
I've been registered for months to attend a workshop conducted by Ted Kooser, Poet Laureate 2004-2006, Pulitzer Prize for poetry winner in 2005 and resident of a small town a stone's throw from Lincoln. The workshop is this Saturday. I am praying for a good day, at least a good 5 hours. He is a survivor of throat cancer and went through treatment 11 years ago and is cancer free!!!
My baseline is hard to establish...I may feel good in the morning, but so tired by mid afternoon, and really lousy by mid-evening; the same is true of my throat status...it's not all downhill...sometimes I feel better. Once I lie down, regardless of time of day...it seems such a chore to get up for any reason at all. Today, I did radiation, rode up and back with a friend, and decided to rest for an hour before going to my office to see a few clients. It was tough to get up. Tuesday is the last appointment I have scheduled at the office; Wed. & Thurs. is round 2 of chemotherapy, and then I will sleep and sleep and sleep for the next 6 weeks..to live the life of a bear for awhile.
I think I am ready to throw in the towel on trying to eat food. It's a conspiracy of factors which include:
1. the perversion of all taste - even bland is now tasting really, really foul.
2. sore throat
3. depletion of saliva
4. loss of appetite
5. increased difficulty swallowing
Ciao spaghetti, I will not forget you or your friend lasagna; Min tian jian Chinese food, you special pal; catch you later, BBQ ribs; adios burrito and taco; see ya, burger & fries; shalom, bagel & lox...don't cry for me, cream cheese... another day, another day, and we will reunite with gusto.
Oddly, since eating has become so aversive, it doesn't feel like a current loss to give it up...rather, it's just a new way of doing business to get my nutritional needs and fluid intake accomplished. Someday, I am going to really enjoy a large plate of spaghetti, garlic bread, salad, and plenty of ice water. And for dessert, a nice piece of strawberry-rhubarb pie and a cup of steaming hot coffee. In the meantime...pass me that can of Ensure and get lost.
I've been registered for months to attend a workshop conducted by Ted Kooser, Poet Laureate 2004-2006, Pulitzer Prize for poetry winner in 2005 and resident of a small town a stone's throw from Lincoln. The workshop is this Saturday. I am praying for a good day, at least a good 5 hours. He is a survivor of throat cancer and went through treatment 11 years ago and is cancer free!!!
My baseline is hard to establish...I may feel good in the morning, but so tired by mid afternoon, and really lousy by mid-evening; the same is true of my throat status...it's not all downhill...sometimes I feel better. Once I lie down, regardless of time of day...it seems such a chore to get up for any reason at all. Today, I did radiation, rode up and back with a friend, and decided to rest for an hour before going to my office to see a few clients. It was tough to get up. Tuesday is the last appointment I have scheduled at the office; Wed. & Thurs. is round 2 of chemotherapy, and then I will sleep and sleep and sleep for the next 6 weeks..to live the life of a bear for awhile.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
deeper things - relax into this, hon
Day 10 radiation.
The past two days I have been feeling good enough to drive myself to Omaha. Just a sore throat, fatigue, but no nausea. Every morning, at the door to the cancer center, I get a smile and a hug from Ethel...Ethel opens the door for patients, she points people in the right direction, arranges the shuttle or valet parking for those needing assistance, etc. After my treatment today, as I was leaving, Ethel asked me how many more treatments I had left. I told her...10 down, 25 to go. She said, "Just relax into this, hon, and it will be over before you know it." I got in my car, smiling at that. Then I put in a CD of Samual Barber's Adagio for Strings...and drove off. With that music filling the car, I was already half way toward heaven; but what happened next... I was thinking "relax into this, hon..." and then the words changed, and the voice changed...and the words were the words of the prophet Isaiah; the chapter I had to memorize and sing/recite (in Hebrew) at my Bar Mitzvah in 1964.
And the words were strong and the words were clear...and yet again I was driving through tears... because the voice of Ethel somehow transformed into the voice of Isaiah, who was speaking the very words of God.
BUT THEY THAT WAIT UPON THE LORD SHALL RENEW THEIR STRENGTH; THEY SHALL MOUNT UP WITH WINGS AS EAGLES.
Isaiah 40:31
Just relax into this, hon.
The past two days I have been feeling good enough to drive myself to Omaha. Just a sore throat, fatigue, but no nausea. Every morning, at the door to the cancer center, I get a smile and a hug from Ethel...Ethel opens the door for patients, she points people in the right direction, arranges the shuttle or valet parking for those needing assistance, etc. After my treatment today, as I was leaving, Ethel asked me how many more treatments I had left. I told her...10 down, 25 to go. She said, "Just relax into this, hon, and it will be over before you know it." I got in my car, smiling at that. Then I put in a CD of Samual Barber's Adagio for Strings...and drove off. With that music filling the car, I was already half way toward heaven; but what happened next... I was thinking "relax into this, hon..." and then the words changed, and the voice changed...and the words were the words of the prophet Isaiah; the chapter I had to memorize and sing/recite (in Hebrew) at my Bar Mitzvah in 1964.
And the words were strong and the words were clear...and yet again I was driving through tears... because the voice of Ethel somehow transformed into the voice of Isaiah, who was speaking the very words of God.
BUT THEY THAT WAIT UPON THE LORD SHALL RENEW THEIR STRENGTH; THEY SHALL MOUNT UP WITH WINGS AS EAGLES.
Isaiah 40:31
Just relax into this, hon.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
checking in - Can you be happy and miserable? - part 2
Number update: Day 9 radiation (A quarter done!)
Physical update: throat starting to burn more, swallowing a little more difficult, mouth dryness increasing, no nausea today, weight loss halted for the last 4 days, appetite and food taste...don't even ask!
I asked myself the above question in a post a week or two ago...and I said "not yet"
But today I have a different answer. The answer is emphatically "NO." And the reason is this...when I sit with happiness, I cannot catch hold of misery...it eludes me. I now "know" I can feel pain and happiness together...but this weekend there was no room for misery. At least that is my reality today. Pain is just pain. I had a great weekend; no cruises...no concerts...NO fine dining...just simple stuff... I don't ever remember weather that felt so good, I don't ever remember more appreciating friends (Jim & Julie...you two are the real deal! Cindy D and Cindy N, it made me happy to see you both) and reflecting on the comments here and the calls from family and friends, and watching some TV and spending time with Kathy and with Simcha K. Cat...I felt an immensity of happiness and gratitude.
I am not the first person who gets really sick and suddenly feels a new lease and value to life...it's almost a cliche...but living it is an altogether remarkable experience. And sharing it with others is just plain rich. I am living it today; I know pain and discomfort will grow, and God willing...I will get past that...and I just don't know yet what will come of me...is this a "transformation" or is it a detour?...I pray the former...but each day brings a bit of a new reality...and today my reality... feels tremendous!
Physical update: throat starting to burn more, swallowing a little more difficult, mouth dryness increasing, no nausea today, weight loss halted for the last 4 days, appetite and food taste...don't even ask!
I asked myself the above question in a post a week or two ago...and I said "not yet"
But today I have a different answer. The answer is emphatically "NO." And the reason is this...when I sit with happiness, I cannot catch hold of misery...it eludes me. I now "know" I can feel pain and happiness together...but this weekend there was no room for misery. At least that is my reality today. Pain is just pain. I had a great weekend; no cruises...no concerts...NO fine dining...just simple stuff... I don't ever remember weather that felt so good, I don't ever remember more appreciating friends (Jim & Julie...you two are the real deal! Cindy D and Cindy N, it made me happy to see you both) and reflecting on the comments here and the calls from family and friends, and watching some TV and spending time with Kathy and with Simcha K. Cat...I felt an immensity of happiness and gratitude.
I am not the first person who gets really sick and suddenly feels a new lease and value to life...it's almost a cliche...but living it is an altogether remarkable experience. And sharing it with others is just plain rich. I am living it today; I know pain and discomfort will grow, and God willing...I will get past that...and I just don't know yet what will come of me...is this a "transformation" or is it a detour?...I pray the former...but each day brings a bit of a new reality...and today my reality... feels tremendous!
Sunday, September 6, 2009
checking in - Steve's new top ten list
Top 10 immediate benefits of radiation/chemotherapy
10. It’s green! Unplug those little energy drainers like nightlights and rechargeable flashlight batteries!!! Not necessary with that healthy “glow.”
9. Save money and be environmentally friendly. No need to buy bottled water in those terrible plastic bottles...just find an old piece of carpet embedded with metal shavings to chew on...it is equally refreshing and tastes identical!
8. It’s a Weight Watcher’s super tool...no problem keeping your “points” under your allotment...free lifetime membership can be achieved in weeks, not years.
7. Daily power nap...learn to sleep while encased and bolted to the excellent back support of a metal table slab.
6. Forego those costly tattoo’s...watch your arm turn beautiful colors on it’s own for days and weeks after trained nurses poke and prod for a good vein.
5. Routine of “regularity” got you down? It’s an adventure here!!!
4. Pills, pills. pills...in every room of the house...misplaced the reading glasses? Just grab a few of these and a few of those and your bound to get some kind of relief.
3. Dozens of new empty vials, tubes, jars...storage for thumbtacks, paperclips, and all those odds and ends that never have a place to land.
2. Creates a breeding ground for cards, prayers, encouragement.
1. Fertilizes the human heart for friendship and love to blossom and blossom and blossom.
10. It’s green! Unplug those little energy drainers like nightlights and rechargeable flashlight batteries!!! Not necessary with that healthy “glow.”
9. Save money and be environmentally friendly. No need to buy bottled water in those terrible plastic bottles...just find an old piece of carpet embedded with metal shavings to chew on...it is equally refreshing and tastes identical!
8. It’s a Weight Watcher’s super tool...no problem keeping your “points” under your allotment...free lifetime membership can be achieved in weeks, not years.
7. Daily power nap...learn to sleep while encased and bolted to the excellent back support of a metal table slab.
6. Forego those costly tattoo’s...watch your arm turn beautiful colors on it’s own for days and weeks after trained nurses poke and prod for a good vein.
5. Routine of “regularity” got you down? It’s an adventure here!!!
4. Pills, pills. pills...in every room of the house...misplaced the reading glasses? Just grab a few of these and a few of those and your bound to get some kind of relief.
3. Dozens of new empty vials, tubes, jars...storage for thumbtacks, paperclips, and all those odds and ends that never have a place to land.
2. Creates a breeding ground for cards, prayers, encouragement.
1. Fertilizes the human heart for friendship and love to blossom and blossom and blossom.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
deeper things - In a Rocky Pasture
It was an absolutely beautiful day...I reclined on a lounger on our backyard patio and listened to birds and gentle breeze and watched lazy flying bugs. No one bothering to disturb the peace of another. Just beautiful. Just beautiful. Above or beyond all the drama. Lovely. And I had a delicious bowl of chicken noodle soup (thanks Dr. Nash)...and pondered this poem sent to me by friend Joyce...with a photo by Mike Forsberg of a large craggy rock in a pasture on the side of a hill. It all worked!!!
I am happy.
In a Rocky Pasture
Who knows how much of the world
this stone on a hill has turned its back to
in thousands of years, curled into itself,
pretending to sleep. It lay there
while everything happened happened
and it rejected it all. Put your hand
on any stone and you'll feel it slightly
tighten. They want nothing to do with our kind.
Ted Kooser
I am happy.
In a Rocky Pasture
Who knows how much of the world
this stone on a hill has turned its back to
in thousands of years, curled into itself,
pretending to sleep. It lay there
while everything happened happened
and it rejected it all. Put your hand
on any stone and you'll feel it slightly
tighten. They want nothing to do with our kind.
Ted Kooser
checking in - labor day reprieve; my place - His place
This is the third straight day of feeling slightly better. I think I regained a pound yesterday, and I ATE a bowl of cereal (6AM) and 2 pancakes (8AM) already today. Forget the syryup...(that nasty radiation), but I was able to eat them with Jelly. Drinking water is still out of the question, but I think some broth might work, and I will use the feeding tube. Last week, here is how I was losing weight: try walking from your clothes dryer to your bedroom with a double arm load of unfolded socks...when you get to the bedroom, you turn around and realize you've left a trail of socks behind...every day, I was dropping a pound or two; no matter how much I wanted otherwise, I couldn't seem to keep from dropping socks.,.I lost 7% of my body weight in 8 days...at that rate...forget it...
Feeling better is such a relative term...it's night and day from where I was two days ago...but I am very tired...it is a different type of fatigue than just being tired...it feels like a depletion of energy at a cellular level. At the same time...I am feeling alive and more with it today. In addition to daily radiation in Omaha last week, I saw 14 clients. I can't say I am empowered by that; I just hope I didn't cheat them of too much of their valuable time. I felt so sick; I was just not present at all. This week will be my last week to see clients, and I intend to shut down my practice until November. I think I have around a dozen appointments scheduled this week, so only 3 a day rather than four. I think after this week I will have at least been able to see all my clients for a final visit before hitting the "pause" button. I wasn't sure I'd get that job done, but I wanted to. Just because.
Now, on to another matter...it's Saturday and I have time and some energy to ramble here...early on, I posted some blogs about childhood events that I "endured." If you joined reading this more recently, they were posts on August 10 & August 17. I stopped doing that after I had a realization (duh! perhaps I should say...it finally sunk in) that people are actually reading this, and suddenly I felt very naked and exposed. But let me tell you something...those two posts DID expose me...and that scared, terrified, insecure child is what you will find if you look long enough at me. Those who know me well, already know that...for the many years I consulted at the Forensic Mental Health Unit of the State Hospital in Nebraska...(the Lincoln Regional Center)....you know that in a REAL crisis of physical violence, my motto was "STOP,DROP, and ROLL" long enough to let the real heroes get past me to the scene. I am not the world's biggest coward...but if there were two lines forming (Cowards to the left, Heroes to the right) I don't think anyone would need to check my ID as I pushed my way to the left. And...I am NOT emotionally brave either...denial and avoidance have been two buddies of mine for a long time. Many comments have been so graciously complimentary...but I started thinking last night that I need to clarify this...GO BACK...re-read my conversation with Jesus yesterday...I was NOT the encourager, I was NOT the comforter in that transaction. I'm still that scared, insecure kid looking for approval and love. I have little doubt that when the going gets REALLY tough (oh, how I am dreading two weeks from now when I do chemo and radiation together; how frightened I am of that...and then I start thinking H1N1...and I can't hardly stand it...yet...I say...I am taking it a day at a time...NOT...exactly) I am going to fold up and hide in a corner.
My point here, and please, please hear this...DO NOT LOOK AT ME LIKE SOME COURAGEOUS MAN...if there is any encouragement, if there is any comfort....KNOW THIS- KNOW THIS- KNOW THIS...it is coming from the ONE who IS the comforter, who IS the encourager...and NOT from me. I really don't know how to do that...though I may be a psychologist...I can't perform that kind of miracle! If there is encouragement...let's be encouraged together...but remember from Who it comes.... To have the thought that I might in some small tiny way have a chance to reflect back the Love that has been flooding me this past month is such an honor...again...it is God's love...(and it is YOUR love)...that I am reflecting. That's all!!! Period...Hold a mirror up to me alone...and you will soon enough see the frame of the bed shaking along with me. When I said early on that I really, really do not like pain...I MEANT IT.
Finally, let me put to death any notion that I am being falsely modest or humble. Again...if you know me well enough...you know that I am generally a nice guy, a decent person...too passive...too introverted...sometimes funny...but NOT the most generous, NOT the most loving...NOT the most self-sacrificing guy on the block...I want to make sure one of those burgers on the grill is for ME!!!..... so let's be clear...there's me...
...and then... there's HIM!!!!!!
Feeling better is such a relative term...it's night and day from where I was two days ago...but I am very tired...it is a different type of fatigue than just being tired...it feels like a depletion of energy at a cellular level. At the same time...I am feeling alive and more with it today. In addition to daily radiation in Omaha last week, I saw 14 clients. I can't say I am empowered by that; I just hope I didn't cheat them of too much of their valuable time. I felt so sick; I was just not present at all. This week will be my last week to see clients, and I intend to shut down my practice until November. I think I have around a dozen appointments scheduled this week, so only 3 a day rather than four. I think after this week I will have at least been able to see all my clients for a final visit before hitting the "pause" button. I wasn't sure I'd get that job done, but I wanted to. Just because.
Now, on to another matter...it's Saturday and I have time and some energy to ramble here...early on, I posted some blogs about childhood events that I "endured." If you joined reading this more recently, they were posts on August 10 & August 17. I stopped doing that after I had a realization (duh! perhaps I should say...it finally sunk in) that people are actually reading this, and suddenly I felt very naked and exposed. But let me tell you something...those two posts DID expose me...and that scared, terrified, insecure child is what you will find if you look long enough at me. Those who know me well, already know that...for the many years I consulted at the Forensic Mental Health Unit of the State Hospital in Nebraska...(the Lincoln Regional Center)....you know that in a REAL crisis of physical violence, my motto was "STOP,DROP, and ROLL" long enough to let the real heroes get past me to the scene. I am not the world's biggest coward...but if there were two lines forming (Cowards to the left, Heroes to the right) I don't think anyone would need to check my ID as I pushed my way to the left. And...I am NOT emotionally brave either...denial and avoidance have been two buddies of mine for a long time. Many comments have been so graciously complimentary...but I started thinking last night that I need to clarify this...GO BACK...re-read my conversation with Jesus yesterday...I was NOT the encourager, I was NOT the comforter in that transaction. I'm still that scared, insecure kid looking for approval and love. I have little doubt that when the going gets REALLY tough (oh, how I am dreading two weeks from now when I do chemo and radiation together; how frightened I am of that...and then I start thinking H1N1...and I can't hardly stand it...yet...I say...I am taking it a day at a time...NOT...exactly) I am going to fold up and hide in a corner.
My point here, and please, please hear this...DO NOT LOOK AT ME LIKE SOME COURAGEOUS MAN...if there is any encouragement, if there is any comfort....KNOW THIS- KNOW THIS- KNOW THIS...it is coming from the ONE who IS the comforter, who IS the encourager...and NOT from me. I really don't know how to do that...though I may be a psychologist...I can't perform that kind of miracle! If there is encouragement...let's be encouraged together...but remember from Who it comes.... To have the thought that I might in some small tiny way have a chance to reflect back the Love that has been flooding me this past month is such an honor...again...it is God's love...(and it is YOUR love)...that I am reflecting. That's all!!! Period...Hold a mirror up to me alone...and you will soon enough see the frame of the bed shaking along with me. When I said early on that I really, really do not like pain...I MEANT IT.
Finally, let me put to death any notion that I am being falsely modest or humble. Again...if you know me well enough...you know that I am generally a nice guy, a decent person...too passive...too introverted...sometimes funny...but NOT the most generous, NOT the most loving...NOT the most self-sacrificing guy on the block...I want to make sure one of those burgers on the grill is for ME!!!..... so let's be clear...there's me...
...and then... there's HIM!!!!!!
Friday, September 4, 2009
deeper things - my morning talk with Jesus
This morning, at 5 AM. I had a talk with Him. Since there is no HIPAA policy that I know of about this sort of thing...I am anxious to share it. I know that there are readers of a variety of faith backgrounds, or no faith at all, and I do not want to be presumptuous or insensitive...please understand...for me... for this morning ...it is not a matter of "faith"...it is a matter of reporting a transcript as I best recall. You make of this what you will....I sailed through radiation day 8 with tears...they must have thought I was in some discomfort, but I couldn't contain what I was feeling as I thought about my morning talk...
JESUS: Steve, come, you are tired and burdened...come rest in ME.
STEVE: yes, yes, I will...you know I love you Jesus, and have loved you unwaveringly for 25 years.
JESUS: rest...
STEVE: I love you, you KNOW my heart; but I am also so less certain of so many things that I for so many years had certainty about...my..."theology" has become muddied...
JESUS: rest, and let me enfold you in My love
STEVE: Jesus, I've neglected you...even this week...I have spent more time reading poetry than reading your Word...why do I so easily drift away?
JESUS: If you want to rest in the lovely sound of the wind...I WILL FIND YOU THERE...AND I WILL BE WITH YOU...AND I WILL FILL YOU WITH MY LOVE, AND YOU WILL KNOW MY VOICE...just rest, now.
JESUS: Steve, come, you are tired and burdened...come rest in ME.
STEVE: yes, yes, I will...you know I love you Jesus, and have loved you unwaveringly for 25 years.
JESUS: rest...
STEVE: I love you, you KNOW my heart; but I am also so less certain of so many things that I for so many years had certainty about...my..."theology" has become muddied...
JESUS: rest, and let me enfold you in My love
STEVE: Jesus, I've neglected you...even this week...I have spent more time reading poetry than reading your Word...why do I so easily drift away?
JESUS: If you want to rest in the lovely sound of the wind...I WILL FIND YOU THERE...AND I WILL BE WITH YOU...AND I WILL FILL YOU WITH MY LOVE, AND YOU WILL KNOW MY VOICE...just rest, now.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
deeper things- the lovely sounds they make in the wind
Three posts in a day! I think I have this sense of urgency that I will not be able to keep this writing up as I get more under this treatment. But here is the verse from a poem I read before bed (I don't have the energy to read books it seems, so poems are about the right length. Jane Hirshfield is quite a poet; I accidently "discovered" her when I recently bought a book of her poems used for a buck. I know nothing formally about poetry, and nothing about poets, for that matter...just what grabs me...and selfishly, those are the poems I put here. These poems speak to me. These verses had me thinking at 5 AM.
The art is what is extra:
a fragrance penciled in,
or long division's inescapable remainder.
Not quite unplanned for,
more the unexpected, impractical gift.
Not the figures traced
in the bridge's stanchions,
but the small
and lovely sounds they make in the wind.
Who drew that in?
Who could have?
So I was thinking...sunsets and sunrises are facts of earth's rotation and it's orbit around the sun...elegant usefulness...but the colors!...the sound of a single squirrel running across our shake shingle roof is like a stampede of horses...the lonely clanging sound of a naked flagpole, it's rope and metal clasp clanging in the wind; the even lonelier sound of a train in the distance at 3AM... who drew these in....the hundreds, thousands of "extras" ...the art!
Orange Oil in Darkness
Jane Hirschfield
The useful part
of things is elegance -
in mathematics, bridges.
Even in hedges
of ripe persimmons
or mandarin oranges,
elegance solves
for the minimum possible,
then dissolves.
The art is what is extra:
a fragrance penciled in,
or long division's inescapable remainder.
Not quite unplanned for,
more the unexpected, impractical gift.
Not the figures traced
in the bridge's stanchions,
but the small
and lovely sounds they make in the wind.
Who drew that in?
Who could have?
For years now I've mistaken
art for beauty,
but it is not beauty.
Art lives in a plenitude more iron,
more empty, less demanding.
Art doesn't care,
except in moments of despair.
Those it lets pass, recognizing weakness.
The art is what is extra:
a fragrance penciled in,
or long division's inescapable remainder.
Not quite unplanned for,
more the unexpected, impractical gift.
Not the figures traced
in the bridge's stanchions,
but the small
and lovely sounds they make in the wind.
Who drew that in?
Who could have?
So I was thinking...sunsets and sunrises are facts of earth's rotation and it's orbit around the sun...elegant usefulness...but the colors!...the sound of a single squirrel running across our shake shingle roof is like a stampede of horses...the lonely clanging sound of a naked flagpole, it's rope and metal clasp clanging in the wind; the even lonelier sound of a train in the distance at 3AM... who drew these in....the hundreds, thousands of "extras" ...the art!
Orange Oil in Darkness
Jane Hirschfield
The useful part
of things is elegance -
in mathematics, bridges.
Even in hedges
of ripe persimmons
or mandarin oranges,
elegance solves
for the minimum possible,
then dissolves.
The art is what is extra:
a fragrance penciled in,
or long division's inescapable remainder.
Not quite unplanned for,
more the unexpected, impractical gift.
Not the figures traced
in the bridge's stanchions,
but the small
and lovely sounds they make in the wind.
Who drew that in?
Who could have?
For years now I've mistaken
art for beauty,
but it is not beauty.
Art lives in a plenitude more iron,
more empty, less demanding.
Art doesn't care,
except in moments of despair.
Those it lets pass, recognizing weakness.
checking in - we were in different movies
An incident struck me yesterday afternoon...I was in my office building; I saw one client and had to cancel the other three I had scheduled as I was feeling so poorly. Walking down a long hall to check the mail...I was walking exactly like the characters in NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD...and I was feeling just like they must have felt, though I was feeling "shot" in the stomach and the neck, not in the head...I was moving at a pace of about 10 feet a minute, my body feeling contorted and twisted...and an insurance salesman from down the hall was walking toward me...Bill...and Bill said..."Hey, how's it going...they keepin ya busy?" And I nodded and said, "youbet." And I felt like I might vomit right there on Bill's shoes...and then Bill said..."Hey...howd you like to come attend an informational meeting I'm presenting next Wednesday on Roth IRA conversions down the street at the Library? You know...all the tax laws are changin 1n 2010, so this is a great time to think about that!" And I said..."thanks, Bill, but I think I'm busy next Wednesday," and I walked off wondering... "What movie was he just in?"
checking in - a better day
My nights are adventures...I have taken up residence in our guest room, as I never know what to expect. Once I wake up, I generally wake up every hour for the remainder of the evening, with some pretty weird stuff. Our cat Simcha has appointed herself my keeper, and until last night, would not let me have much peace, wanting to sleep on top of me anyway she can...last night, mercifully, she took the night off and slept on the couch in the living room. (don't suggest closing the door...have you ever had a cat?) So, last night, I awoke (or thought I did) at 3AM...with a start...and I thought I said "so this is the color!"...we have an outdoor grill with an infrared burner to "seal in the juices" when grilling meat...you see the burners at fast food greek gyro places cooking the meat on that large skewer...anyway...at 3AM I awoke and realized that my throat was glowing red like that infrared burner...I say...I thought I awoke, because I also realized there were other people in the room with me...and all of their throats were glowing, only each person's glow was a different color. Could it have been just a dream? Perhaps; they were all gone when I woke up at 4AM. At 4AM, I woke up and my throat was completely parched...so I was able to eat some pudding...it worked, I got it down...then at 5AM, I awoke thinking about a line in a poem for a deeper things entry which I hope to do tonight...I spent a good 20 minutes thinking about this amazing line; such pleasant thoughts I had...then at 6AM I woke up and thought...this is going to be a better day.
And it has been. I think the infections are clearing, and I feel only like a regular cancer patient, not like someone from Night of the Living Dead. And it is such a relief. Yes, my throat burns (day 7 finished) and food and water are awful, but I used the feeding tube yesterday quite a bit, and I think I got myself more hydrated. I do feel like I am back from the dead. I am not nauseated. I am seeing clients this afternoon. It is a blessing...I love my work.
This is the "better before it gets worse." I will take it. I will live here today...and try not to expect anything at all for tomorrow. I get a 3 day weekend reprieve from treatment for Labor Day, though I understand that radiation never sleeps!!!!
And it has been. I think the infections are clearing, and I feel only like a regular cancer patient, not like someone from Night of the Living Dead. And it is such a relief. Yes, my throat burns (day 7 finished) and food and water are awful, but I used the feeding tube yesterday quite a bit, and I think I got myself more hydrated. I do feel like I am back from the dead. I am not nauseated. I am seeing clients this afternoon. It is a blessing...I love my work.
This is the "better before it gets worse." I will take it. I will live here today...and try not to expect anything at all for tomorrow. I get a 3 day weekend reprieve from treatment for Labor Day, though I understand that radiation never sleeps!!!!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
checking in - my day and a note for you
To the friends I know...thank you, bless you; you are so unbelievably kind to me. To the friends I don't know who have posted... well, you are friends now...and your prayers and well wishes touch me. To the friends who I do (or don't) know that are just reading along, but don't care to post...thank you and bless you. I pray now and then this will be meaningful and perhaps enrich your day as you read...a poem, a thought, a comment...I am grateful to all of you beyond words. You take the time to read and I know some of you are reading regularly...I am amazed and find it a wondrous thing...and I am touched that you keep coming back to read...I know this is my little adventure...but to be honest...it feels to me more and more like the adventure isn't just mine alone.
Today, day 6 of radiation, I met again with the oncologist. I found out that I am having such a rough time because not only was my stomach tube infected, but I have an infection in my mouth... he's optimistic that getting these infections cleared will make me feel better before it gets worse. I guess that's something to feel good about, in a sort of good news bad news way...he thinks my discomfort from chemo and radiation was compounded by these infections...I also was dehydrated because everything was tasting bad and nauseating...even water. Sorry for the gory details, I didn't want to do much of that, but that's my status. The stomach is mending a bit, now the mouth, and then I'll deal with the rest. I will re-hydrate as best I can today.
On the one hand, I read your comments and write, and feel encouraged. On the other hand...I see people at the cancer center who seem much more spirited than I, and sometimes I drag in there like I'm feeling so sorry for myself. I want to be more of a fighter here, and start being more of an encourager to others, and less self-absorbed. My God, how does a single Mom do this?...how does someone who doesn't have insurance, and loses their sole income survive? And then try to deal with all this pain and discomfort? And I am 57...I see 75 year olds taking this on...how do they do it?
Today, day 6 of radiation, I met again with the oncologist. I found out that I am having such a rough time because not only was my stomach tube infected, but I have an infection in my mouth... he's optimistic that getting these infections cleared will make me feel better before it gets worse. I guess that's something to feel good about, in a sort of good news bad news way...he thinks my discomfort from chemo and radiation was compounded by these infections...I also was dehydrated because everything was tasting bad and nauseating...even water. Sorry for the gory details, I didn't want to do much of that, but that's my status. The stomach is mending a bit, now the mouth, and then I'll deal with the rest. I will re-hydrate as best I can today.
On the one hand, I read your comments and write, and feel encouraged. On the other hand...I see people at the cancer center who seem much more spirited than I, and sometimes I drag in there like I'm feeling so sorry for myself. I want to be more of a fighter here, and start being more of an encourager to others, and less self-absorbed. My God, how does a single Mom do this?...how does someone who doesn't have insurance, and loses their sole income survive? And then try to deal with all this pain and discomfort? And I am 57...I see 75 year olds taking this on...how do they do it?
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
deeper things - your place, my place
Listen...in this deeper things business, I am becoming more and more aware of a certain connectedness, a love which before in cynicism and arrogance I tended to minimize. It is because I WAS NOT SO LOVING...I WAS DETACHED as a self-protected entity.... walking, functioning... wounded... I had such good walls...listen... the value of each person is immeasurable... How did I not see that? It is reflected everywhere...from the love God has for us to the love shared in pain and sorrow...to the love shared in joy and laughter...what was I thinking? And what was I so needing to protect myself from? I pray for softness...for gentleness...for myself beyond pain, for me NEVER to return to the land of smug self-sufficiency...
Wild Geese
by Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
Wild Geese
by Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
checking in - week one
Today is the end of the first five days of radiation. Oh, but yesterday was a rough one. I couldn't seem to kick this stomach pain, but this morning it was a little better. Now, my throat is starting to get sore...I slept OK which was a blessing. I woke up thinking just as I opened my eyes..."no pain" just a very dry mouth...but, eating a couple of eggs put an end to that nonsense. Nothing too deep to ponder today...I just want to get on through it. Yesterday, I couldn't even think about doing an entry, and today's is pretty lame. Kathy is driving me daily up to Omaha (another delusion I had that I would be fine to drive myself.) I'm starting to lose weight, and they don't like that. I spend years watching what I eat, and then, just when food seems nauseating, they tell me... go crazy and eat everything I can...whole milk, ice cream, lots of protein, lots of whatever sounds good. The only thing that sounds good to me today is Watermelon...I'll have some. Who knew water could taste bad? But it tastes awful...
Still doing my daily 23 psalm meditation, but not much more today. Thank you all for all your love. Really.
Still doing my daily 23 psalm meditation, but not much more today. Thank you all for all your love. Really.
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