Blog #21, a day late, on the 21st

Double-down blackjack bardo.  I am haunted by an infinity of ghosts who have nothing valid to offer.  Yet they persist in feeding on my brain.  They are doers, takers, and wanters; grey matter shredders.  They twist and turn my mind like it’s an old clock in a small metal box unendingly wound so far past its breaking point that metal, bells, and springs are constantly in a state of tolling ricochet.  It’s so hard to think in here.  So difficult to get away from myself.  The more I let myself physically relax and sleep or meditate the less these lonely haunted souls have to latch onto.  Spiritually I feel very grounded unto myself and my wife, no one else.  It is a very small circle, not what I imagined or think it should be, but so thankful for us nevertheless. 

This cancer has also forced me to look at things about myself and others I never wanted to know.  It’s given me more insight and depth which ultimately feels more like disappointment than any good kind of knowledge.  But from these places that end up in my head I am reminded of a short story I wrote a few years back called “When Blue Was Worth Its Weight In Gold.”  It’s about a volunteer at the VA Home in Yountville, California (which I did) who wonders how much is too much to chew.  In this excerpt he realizes that when you are with someone in trouble, or anguished, or ill, that being there with them is not only all you can do but it’s all that is required.

“I usually feel different when the car door closes, sitting there in the parking lot, before I drive home.  I feel the difference of one time ending to the other time.  I am out of the building and the physical distance created is indicative of the distance I am putting between myself and things that happened, thoughts slowly bleed into memory as buildings sparse into trees and vineyards.  It’s about a half an hour of driving and I realize I’m whining too high in fourth gear, I shift up and over to fifth before I conclude that I have been going over the series of events from the last five hours, not really for any resolute purpose that I can see but a replaying of them as if it’s an emotionally bad, bad hand and all the re-arranging won’t help, the three of spades looks just as bad next to the nine of diamonds as it did between the deuce and six.  Discard, throw away, Quit! “Just stop going there.” keeps clanging around my head, but that's not me. I know it’s not what I’m going to do.  Volunteers don't discard, this is what I signed on for.  I’m here where my presence is just what is required, and the answer may never arise because the answer is what I think I need.  And the result is what rarely matches up to any answer I might think up.  Sometimes all that is left to do is breathe in and out together in the room and know that another person is there.

Whether myself or an infinite number of other anybodies can handle it or help in any way is not what actually does happen.  What does happen is different to and for us all, we each have our version and each one is unlike the other, even when it’s happening.  This is why I let myself be affected by Sergeant Curtis, why I let it creep in and throw a wash of color over the landscape of who I am and what is already there.”

People fade in and out when you have cancer.  Some show up in various ways, and some don’t.  Some amaze you lovingly and others amaze you horribly.  Appropriate behavior is rarely thought out fully.  And what are you gonna do? Tell people they have to read this book or article, or go that website before you’ll deign them with your presence?  Some people you haven’t seen in years ask one of your friends to ask you if they can come over... No call, no email, no nothing.  Mind boggling.  It makes me feel somewhat side-showish.  Hurry, hurry.  Step right up, and for one slender dime see the boy who was supposed to be dead months ago.  Dark huh? OK, I’ll stop.


Body Wish

Aside from all the nut-ball places I’ve let my mind wander, and the last two days of horrible tummy shit, this week has been fairly restful.  I’ve felt good, considering... and I’ve been doing my walking just about every morning.  I’ve let the acupuncture and yoga slip a little because I’ve been yielding to the urges to sleep.  It just felt right to let myself sleep when I wanted to.  I had been manly-like pushing through the tiredness before because I wasn’t gonna let no cancer keep me down.  I discussed this with Dr. Kunin at my last appointment and he said two things that made sense: “Why would you ignore your body's wishes?” and “When you sleep your body can devote all its energy to healing.” Mmmmkay? My intuition scores a home run. Now I just need to solve the scheduling of acupuncture and yoga throughout my week.

Here’s a quote from Dr. Suzanne Friedman  who is an acupuncturist, herbalist, and doctor of medical qigong therapy. She received her doctorate degree (D.M.Q.) in Medical Qigong Oncology from the Beijing Western District Medical Qigong-Science and TCM Research Institute in Beijing, China.  She was diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer on February 25^th 2010.  In September 2010 her CT-Scan was perfect and she is now in remission. 

“Everyone's cancer journey is unique. What works for one person won't work for everyone.  I've found that the key is to trust and follow your intuition and never compromise your integrity.  Western medicine has much to offer, just as Chinese medicine does.  When used together properly, they are able to enhance each other.  How lucky we are to have access to both!”

Cousin Wyatt

OK, so the best news in the world is my Cousin Sharon (if you’ve been following you know how much she means to us) had the BABY!!!!!!  Wyatt, another boy-yippee wah dooski-9lbs.4 oz. and 21 inches long.  We are SO happy.