Wednesday, September 30, 2009

deeper things - how to eat a desk

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.

8 comments:

  1. You see the light at the end of the tunnel and you are greeting it with a smile.

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  2. Sounds tastey. Almost as good as baked goodies.

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  3. Is there a 12-Step program for this? "I have 15 days without eating a single Baggie!" {thunderous applause}. Ahem.

    On a separate note, I am THRILLED that one round of chemo has been dropped.

    You are a gem.

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  4. Hallelujah! (one the one less chemo)...great story on eating the desk. Can't wait to have some sawdust-less pizza with you!

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  5. You're the best! The home stretch is in sight and no more chemo is the frosting on your desk!
    LUV U, Barb

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  6. Chewing on a pencil will never be the same again. Thank you, Steve. If/when you write a book about all this, "How To Eat a Desk" would be a great title.

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  7. I'm sitting here with my rolltop desk amazed and laughing my butt off! Praise God, one less round. Won't the acorns and pinecones you have collected be lonely without their brothers and sisters who had planned to join them? Wow!

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  8. One of my favorites, Steve. Always in prayer, friend.

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