lessons learned - it's all new

This past weekend, I was talking to a neighbor about how much I was appreciating regaining certain functions that I had lost (such as taste, energy, etc.). She wondered if it was a little like a kid feels who learns something new, like riding a bicycle for the first time, but even better because I have a larger perspective. She was right. I did my pre-cancer two mile walk around the streets of my neighborhood a few days ago for the first time in nine months. My legs were like jelly when I got home, but I felt really good about it. I ate a hamburger on Sunday, and pizza tonight and they both tasted so incredibly wonderful that it is hard to describe how much I enjoyed the experience. I had the energy to see six clients on Monday and I ended the day feeling invigorated. These things were all routine nine months ago. Now...it's as if these experiences are all coming to me as with a newness of one who has never known these before. This is a unique blessing...how many people get to re-experience pizza and have it taste like he or she is discovering this delightful food for the first time? Imagine that!

In a more general sense, regaining health has made so much of my life feel new. So, I was wondering...how can I keep this "excitement" of the newness of my life alive? How much we lose as we go through the years!!! The other day, I saw a toddler walking with his mother bend over and pick a dandelion with absolute delight! What joy we surrender as years go by. Why can't we preserve the freshness and wonder that surrounds our lives so fully as children...

Guess what? I feel like I am getting to do this...and it's great! I am using my "new" life as a grand experiment in not letting these things become "ordinary" and routine again. The "ordinary" is really quite extraordinary! Imagine if you lost your eyesight for six months to suddenly have it restored...The colors, the sunrises, the sunsets, the twilight would all seem so spectacular. Well, they are spectacular (and so is the taste of pizza and a two mile walk on a spring day)! It seems we have to lose something to fully appreciate it...well, it was so for me, anyway...though this time, I am striving not to take any of the joy for granted and I am grateful for it all. Every day. It is always fresh and new.

There is one more thing that is new every day, if only we could come to fully appreciate it...

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
--- Lamentations 3:22-23

Lessons learned - the sacred moment

The sacred moment.... a solid magnificent tree of a moment. A moment that soars to great heights, its arms stretched wide and open. Yet in this magnificent tree of a moment I find at times a colony of termites at work. They are nibbling away at it. Rendering it hollow, rendering it empty.

This sacred moment is right here, right now. I live it...I breathe it...I am present with it forever. Most of the time, I am at peace with it. But these termites are crafty. They boar their way into this moment virtually unnoticed. They go by different names... names like "yesterday," "tomorrow," "fear," "doubt" "what if?" "what if it doesn't?" "what will the next scan reveal?" They take from this sacred moment everything they can.

It's not that I can (or should) banish all uncomfortable emotions and thoughts from the present moment; it is just that there is so much to appreciate and be grateful for right now. When fear comes, it need not eat me up alive. I think I am learning to accept this along side the beauty and the blessings of the day.

Since I have not fully regained my energy, I don't have too much energy to spare. I seek to keep the invaders of this moment in perspective. It is a lesson learned. This sacred moment is complete and full! Here's a poem that reminds me of that.


Mindful

Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less

kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle

in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for -
to look, to listen,

to lose myself
inside this soft world -
to instruct myself
over and over

in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant -
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,

the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help

but grow wise
with such teachings
as these -
the untrimmable light

of the world,
the ocean's shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?

~ Mary Oliver ~

lessons learned - I am weak

People who go through ordeals often come out with the thought "I am stronger" having survived the ordeal. You know, the idea that "if it doesn't kill you, it makes you stronger", or how about "only the strong survive" etc. Let me tell you, I do not suffer that delusion. I am more convinced than ever that I am a world class weak person.

Everything positive I have said in the last few posts is absolutely true. I am blessed and grateful for where I am and how far I have come in my recovery. In every way. I really am joyful about today. Yet, at the same time, in every way...I am weak. Also, absolutely true is the following:

Physically...I have emerged from this ordeal frail, fragile, vulnerable.

Emotionally...I am prone to depression, anxiety, fearfulness.

Spiritually...I am given to doubts, feelings of being abandoned by God, lacking in spiritual discipline.

Gee...take me away...I'm unfit.

I'm often such a disappointment to myself. I can add a few more gems...I am by nature fairly lazy, I'm not a fighter, and look to take comfort in...in comfort. I have a Masters Degree in the art of being a couch potato, and a Ph.D. in procrastination. I can be self-preoccupied and lacking in empathy.

Listen...I am not just beating myself up. I am weak.

So...what kind of lesson is this to learn? That I am a slug? No...but since I am no longer all that effective in hiding my vulnerabilities (they are just too visible) there are some lessons I am learning about weakness.

Lesson one: The weak can survive an ordeal also. Sometimes, a flickering flame endures in ways mysterious while a torch burns itself out.

Lesson two: Hiding vulnerabilities only goes so far...eventually it's a losing battle.

Lesson three: If I don't get too self-absorbed and hung up on being weak, there is still lots of love to receive...and, more importantly...to give. It is not so necessary to hide behind a wall of self-protection. Of course...I still do, and often. I should not have called these "lessons learned" but rather, "lessons I am learning." I still retreat to my ruts of old, yet, I am improving at being able to gently nudge myself out as well. I do not think I am so self-pitying anymore.

Lesson four: In some small way the light of this truth is starting to emerge...As I lean on and surrender to my God, His strength suffices. I have become more aware of just how hopelessly weak I ultimately am when I resort to relying on myself. What is becoming clearer to me is the fragility of my own strength and the permanence of His. I experience this in my frailty, not in my strength. I consider, wonder, and am in awe of the magnificence of the following:

He gives power to the weak. He increases the strength of him who has no might. Isaiah 40:29


He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Most gladly therefore I will rather glory in my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may rest on me. Therefore I take pleasure in weaknesses, in injuries, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then am I strong. 2Cor 12:9-10

checking in - six month oncologist exam

This week marks six months since I completed radiation and chemotherapy. I had appointments today with my oncologist and ENT doctor to do exams. No scan this time. My next CT scan (and possibly my last if results are good) will be in July. Both physical exams today were very good. Both docs said there was no sign of any cancer... both put their hands down my throat to feel my tonsil (gag me with a spoon!) and both put their hands around my throat to feel for any swelling of lymph nodes...and both said everything looked very good. Neither were overly concerned about the original post treatment PET scan that showed a lingering "hot spot" on the tonsil...it could have been a false positive. If my July scan is clean...then I will really have cause to celebrate; in the meantime, today's exams were encouraging and neither doctor saw any signs of cancer. I am grateful and thankful for these good signs.

This week I read some of the posts I wrote in November. I don't think I had done that before. Oh, my. I was in such bad shape, physically and emotionally. I was alarmed at just how miserable I had been. So much of that is almost surreal at this point...was that really me going through such an ordeal? I have repressed much of what I was feeling and thinking. I have come so far. I am walking several miles a day, eating a variety of foods, regaining energy, working full time, and feeling alive. I still have only minimal saliva, feel the need for a 30 minute nap around noon, have slight neuropathy from the chemo, still have some distortions in taste (though that is improving all the time), can not eat anything spicy or with too much vinegar (salad dressings make me cry...but I love eating salads so I cry between bites...I have yet to find salad dressing without vinegar or ketchup which contains vinegar). I am not gaining weight, but being a little too thin is OK with me for now...I eat plenty and no longer have to fret over the caloric or fat content of my food... a blessing. I have learned to eat most dry food with the aid of water... still no bagels, but I have eaten Pizza, ribs, chicken, hamburger, toast and jam. I eat lots of spaghetti and lots of cereal. I found a place that sells crumpets...Ideal grocery for those in Lincoln... I had never eaten a crumpet before, but they go down easily and are sort of like a moist English Muffin!. I'm loving them. I can eat all vegetables and baked and mashed potatoes. I eat bananas and oranges (unless my tongue is cut from the dryness). I have lost my sweet tooth, but I have eaten marshmallow peeps and M & M's in an attempt to regain it...maybe I shouldn't try so hard!

I
feel
so
blessed
so
grateful
so
happy
to be
ALIVE!

I have planted lettuce and beets and am looking forward to planting more veggies in the next few weeks. I took my Mountain bike in to get tuned...I haven't used it in years, but I am looking forward to giving cycling a shot this year.

Right now, I am re-reading Walden by Thoreau...I read it last as a teenager. Great stuff. I have a few more "lessons learned" thoughts that I will hopefully get to in the next weeks. I hope to post about once a week for awhile yet. Today is a good day.

checking in - Happy Easter! WHAT JOY!!!!!!

If you are old enough to remember the group "2nd Chapter of Acts" here is one of their best songs; if you've never heard of them but want to enjoy a great Easter song, give a listen. WHAT JOY!!!!! We can be born again!!!!! What joy...I wish I had the words to express my heart...what overwhelming joy!

It is a glorious day. It's been awhile since I've checked in. I want to tell everyone how I'm doing...Physically, emotionally and spiritually.

PHYSICALLY - I am generally moving forward. I have finally begun working full time again...my energy has yet to catch up to my schedule, and so, when I have a client cancellation, I often use the time to take a quick nap...something I never did before cancer treatment. Twenty to thirty minutes of sleep sometime around noon seems to keep me going for the rest of the day. I have regained my taste...though not as it was before. I can not tolerate spicy food, and some things taste stronger than they used to (for example, chocolate and coffee...I have to add milk and sugar to coffee after drinking it black for 30 years. Sometimes chocolate tastes too intense to enjoy, and burns a little). Some foods I do not taste as fully. I drink a lot of milk, but it often tastes funny. Thankfully, water tastes like water again, and the metallic taste is gone. In addition to spicy food, I can not eat dry food like bread or bagels. If I do eat a sandwich, I have to take a drink of water with every bite, or else I can not swallow the bread. It is easier to eat peanut butter on a piece of celery than it is peanut butter on a slice of bread because the moisture in the celery helps me swallow. But, praise God, I can eat peanut butter this way! My salivary functions are still screwy, and this is the most noticeable symptom I have...I must sip water a lot, especially if I am talking. When I wake up in the morning, there are times my mouth is so dry that it causes small cracks in my tongue...this takes a few days to heal, and in the meantime, anything acidic (tomato sauce, oranges, etc) burn my tongue. I try to walk every day, and my legs still get rubbery after a mile or so, but I am pushing it up toward two miles. It amazes me how my muscle tone deteriorated. Before treatment, my weight never varied more than a few pounds give or take of 160. I seem to have a new set point. Over the last six months, I haven't budged more than one pound up or down from 132. This is a bit frustrating, as I feel like I eat a lot of food, sometimes four meals a day, and can not gain any weight. Oh, how I used to wish for something like this! I always wanted to lose 10-15 pounds. And now, I want to gain 10-15 pounds! Generally I have no pain (except the occasional tongue burning...). My dry mouth is the most distressing symptom. I often feel slight pain in the neck area, and I immediately think "relapse," but then it goes away or shifts to the other side, etc. Perhaps it's phantom pain. The only hair loss I have is that my beard on my right side neck area does not grow, so I only have to shave half of my neck each day. Over the course of years, just think how much I can save on shaving cream and razors! I don't think I lost any hair on my head, but it is a bit thinner...perhaps that is aging more than radiation or chemo. At the end of April, I return for another check-up by the ENT and oncologist. I am optimistic. I am laughing more, enjoying more of life's blessings, and generally feeling at peace with God, with myself and the world around me.

EMOTIONALLY - I am generally up-beat, encouraged and grateful. I occasionally get discouraged about the effort eating can take, but then I remember how it was with the feeding tube. Sometimes, I have a bit of PTSD when I have a flashback to what life was like this past fall and winter...there are times when it seems like a bad dream, but there are times something triggers a specific memory of some very painful or some emotionally devastating time I had. This morning when I was taking a shower, I remembered how hard it was just to get the energy and motivation to take a shower, and how discouraged and freakish I felt when I had to look at that feeding tube as I stood in the shower. Sometimes I remember the long sleepless nights I had when I was sick from chemo, and in pain from radiation that burned the lining of my throat. But most of the time, I feel downright happy to be alive and so very grateful. So grateful. So very, very grateful to have today to celebrate.

I am appreciating the littlest things... you may find this insane, but I feel more connected with all things living than I ever have. We sometimes have these tiny fruit flies from bananas or something that comes in from the grocery store. When they fly around my face, I have this moment when I feel they are somehow greeting me. (...then I try to kill them). But seriously, my first instinct is to say "hello, little friend." I am sure that squirrels and birds are being very friendly to me. And I feel downright friendly toward them! And trees! What a wonder they are! I even occasionally (once in a while) enjoy people! I went through a phase during treatment where I was fearful of being alone...fearful that I would have some medical catastrophic event and die...I did not want to be around any people either, except Kathy. Now, I am enjoying time with Kathy, seeing friends, as well as times of solitude. Good thing.

SPIRITUALLY - I am re-connected in some new and old ways with God. I say reconnected because there were moments during the ordeal when I felt disconnected...I have not shared much about the origins of my own Christianity back in the early 1980's, but I became a Christian independent from any church involvement and independent of any people involvement...one of those miraculous revelations that many would be skeptical about. So, I still am a bit of a spiritual lone ranger...I always keep about an arm's length distance from church, partly to protect what I have with Jesus, so as not to get too distracted by church type and denominational/theological issues. I have attended a variety of denominational and nondenominational churches. I am currently a member of an Episcopalian church and truly enjoy the liturgy, the liturgical calendar, the daily office and the eucharist...but I don't really identify my Christianity with any denomination. I know I can be spiritually selfish and I know theology is important, but it can become so prideful and distracting (for me). There are great men and women who are marvelous examples of living Christianity active in various denominations, and I am a spiritual infant next to them. I am not worthy to tie the shoes of many I have met in the church. It always bothers me when someone brings up the "hypocrisy" of those who go to this or that church. Of course there are hypocrites in the church...we are, after all, sinners. I certainly am not free from hypocrisy myself. When I am in church I try to remember I am not there to judge people, or to emulate them; I am there to worship and draw closer to God. In spite of this, for whatever reason, I worship and connect with him best "in my closet" and I can become protective of that. I am still in awe of the God who loves me. I still have some unanswered questions about my own faith...like, how would I be doing spiritually if I didn't feel better physically?...I hope I never have to answer that question. I am not afraid of death at all, in fact, I have more a sense of being "ready" for that journey...it is just the process of a long, drawn out dying that scares me. I pray God will be with me in the event this is the way it shall go... and I with Him. My faith is strong. I love Jesus more than I can express.

One of my favorite verses is John 16:33...Jesus states..."I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart. I have overcome the world." I have a deeper appreciation than ever about the depth of those words. Trust me. Indeed, with Him and in Him I live and know peace beyond my circumstances.

Please watch the video...I am singing in my heart and sending this song out to everyone reading this. To my Jewish family and friends...Good Pesach! I don't have a Passover song to share with you. (I'd love for you to meet the Passover Lamb I've come to know and love!)...in any event...Good Pesach. There are magnificent mysteries to delve into in the Passover story...to paraphrase a rabbi I once heard...the deeper one looks, the more magnificent they become! God bless you all!

HAPPY EASTER!

deeper things - a poem for the day

On the outskirts of Jerusalem
the donkey waited.
Not especially brave, or filled with understanding,
he stood and waited.

How horses, turned out into the meadow,
..... leap with delight!
How doves, released from their cages,
..... clatter away, splashed with sunlight!

But the donkey, tied to a tree as usual, waited.
Then he let himself be led away.
Then he let the stranger mount.

Never had he seen such crowds!
And I wonder if he at all imagined what was to happen.
Still, he was what he had always been: small, dark, obedient.

I hope, finally, he felt brave.
I hope, finally, he loved the man who rode so lightly upon him,
as he lifted one dusty hoof and stepped, as he had to, forward.

- Mary Oliver, from Thirst