What Are We Waiting For?

Yesterday was the first Sunday in Advent, this great new year in the Church, and wonderful season of Christmas. We talk a lot about waiting during this season, and when I think about this, I see all the little children willing themselves closer to Christmas Day and all the presents they hope to receive. Yet, this morning, as I was at my oncology appointment, I saw a different kind of waiting. By the time I left the exam room, and passed through the lobby and reception area, it was filled with patients and their loved ones - waiting, all of them, for.....what? I stopped there and looked out at them, bundled up, many with hats to cover their once hairy heads, and wondered what each of them were waiting for. I said a quick prayer for all of them that their wait, however, short, long, hopeful, or painful, would yield a love and a joy like no other - and a hopefulness to fill Heaven and earth.

Knock Knock

Who's there?

God.

God Who?

How does today's Gospel about praying always without becoming weary relate to parable about the judge in the town and widow demanding a just decision? My pastor suggests that it is us who is the judge and God who is the widow. If we are the judge who does not care for others and only gives the widow due attention to get her off his back, what does that say about us and our attention to God? God is always, always there, knocking, showing, loving, moving in our lives. Just the thought of this makes me weary, let alone praying without becoming weary. How can I pray always and stay in His light? The only way I know how is to see everything as God's. OK, I need to think on this a minute. Discuss amongst yourselves.....

Nexavar Part Deux

To re-cap, I started the Nexavar as THE treatment for my thyroid cancer that's now taken up residence on my lungs, and is making itself at home. It made my blood pressure skyrocket to dangerous levels, so I stopped the drug to get the bp in check.

Now, a couple weeks later, my bp is back to my normal level, which is around 116 over 65. No wonder I have felt great over the last week or so. Normal me, normal energy - got lots done.

My oncologist, who is proving herself more and more irrelevant, suggested that I inch back on the Nexavar, and have my internist monitor my bp, as she put it, "I don't monitor blood pressure and I wouldn't know what to prescribe." Start with one pill, if that goes well, go to two, and make my way up to the four a day that equals a full dose. After seeing my internist yesterday, he and I decided that I would start the Nexavar at one a day, and get blood work done next week, then check in to see how things are going. We agreed that maybe both of us should become oncologists, as we are taking charge of my care. He then affirmed that it's time for me to get a new cancer doc. His recommendation: his wife's oncologist who happens to be in the same medical group I'm in. I figure if this new doc is good enough for his wife, she's good enough for me, but I forgot to ask him if he likes his wife!

So far, 12 hours into Part Deux no headache, which is was what tipped me off that the bp was high. Keeping fingers crossed.....

Creating Space

In my quest to understand and navigate this blessed, but oh so challenging world, I am trying to keep my eyes and ears open and be, as a favorite author, Kathleen Norris describes detachment: being at peace with the reality that is.

Part of being at peace, for me is in something that Thich Nhat Hanh teaches about creating space. The flower, as he puts it, needs space to show it’s beauty, and like the flower, we need to create space to allow ourselves to be more aware.

I’ve been thinking about this quite a bit. Creating space is not as hard for me because I can see it; clear things out and create more physical space. I like this. Yet, for the interior space (which I think Thich is really speaking about) is more of a challenge. Letting go of the notions and “stuff” that hang around for no good reason other than to provide fodder for my own internal torture would seem easier than it is proving to be. Being at peace with the reality that is, is a wonderful step in this process. This, I can do. More or less. To really be at peace, to be detached, makes way for space that allows us to be aware. And awareness is good, right?

Solidarity

The new, pink look on the blog is a nod to all the sisters out there living with, or in someway touched by breast cancer. If you haven't seen the Pink Glove Dance or the sequel, have a look - it's inspiring. And so hopeful!

pinkglovedance.com

So let's all stand in solidarity to support the effort to cure, and those touch by, this too common disease. Because we are a community after all, and are we not here to take care of each other?

The Power of Friendship

If we are asked the complete this phrase: the power of _____, we would probably insert the word love. Indeed, there is no other like the power of love. Yet, I am witness to friendships, many - well, not many, but I have friends, and long, long friendships. Friendships that have lasted longer than my marriage, longer than anywhere I have lived. There is a strength and beauty to friendship, and there is a power to friendship, just like there is a power to love. And yes, friendship is a type of love, so we aren't talking apple and oranges here. I'm not trying to reproduce Aristotle, just noticing things.

On Sunday at the blessing, the immediate and powerful blessing was to be in the presence of friends, as I said, that have known me forever and love me anyway. The intent of this type of friendship is living witness to God's love in the world. We share acceptance, laughs, understanding, good will, and intention. When these friends lay hands on me for the anointing it was powerful. As friends, they stand with me and I with them. We choose each other, and wish well for each other.

I am immensely grateful for my friends. As I think, I can list in my mind, a number of people with whom I share friendship. I love my friends. And if the power of love is unstoppable, the power of friendship is a turbo boost to love. Laughter, kindness, sharp wit, quirkiness, compassion, intelligence, and a levity in taking oneself seriously are the common denominators in my friends. From the Philippines, to Portland, Joliet, to St. Paul, McLean, Camino, Cameron Park, and all points in the greater Bay Area, my friends are there. A bit of me is in them, and a bit of them is in me. For that, I am fortified, and very, very grateful.

Go Deep

During the anointing on Sunday Michael said more than once to go deep during this rite. In describing the rite, the process, the meaning, he said to go deep. When he laid hands on my head, and everyone put their hands on me was the time to really go deep within myself, with all the expectation and faith of healing and anointing.

How does one do that? Go deep within one’s self? In my former athletic life as a rower, we always had to dig deep, find that last place within us that the strength to keep going. As I sat in this peaceful living room I wondered if I could really go as far as I needed to go. Physical limits are what they are, but spiritual and psychological limits? Do they exist? When everyone’s hands were upon me, I started seeing this bottomless well of life and love. How accessible is it to me if I have things in the way - my own baggage, faults, sins, and frailties? The forgiveness of sins was already done by God just a moment before, but let’s not forget our own forgiveness of our sins and how we get in our own way. As I sat there letting my own “stuff” get out of the way, I felt the warmth of the hands upon me, the intimate, loving embrace of other’s intentions on mine. And in that moment the heat, the fire of the Holy Spirit, was in their hands and I was warm and free. Touched by God, literally, through Her children who were there. With me.

It makes me think of the balance of our days where going deep is not what we do, and it’s not expected. If we thought to do it, can we let our own baggage out of the way? Somewhat on automatic pilot as we navigate our days, taking the chores, the people, the issues of our days on a superficial level. Ought we not try to go deep, and do it more often? What would happen if we did?

Commanding Your Life

On Sunday I had a life highlight experience. We had a blessing dinner to mark the start of this new stage in fighting the C. With the start of treatment, it seemed like a new day was dawning. We are no longer in a “wait and see” mode. Action is needed. OK, I can do that. But let’s mark it with something that sends me forth. A commencement of sorts.

Bff Kate, put together a blessing dinner with la familia: Sarah, Steve, Godson Ben, Pete, and Fr. Michael Sweeny, our priest pal who’s been with us through it all. It was a very family evening with Guthrie/Hayes/Shields - the triumvirate that gives new meaning to the words extended family. We’ve known each other forever, and our families are intertwined in ways that can only be punctuated with, Catholic Mafia. Our connections run deep, and there is no getting out, not that any of us want to.

After a wonderful evening of laughs, drink, food in the embrace of friendship, we adjourned to the living room for a real blessing: The Anointing of the Sick. Michael is fabulously present, a word he talks about often, and lives everyday. He’s is nothing if not present to another. He ever so thoroughly went through the Rite, which I will relay in parts as there was much to ponder.

He spent time talking about commanding. One part of the anointing is for forgiveness, the other for priestly (action?). In the latter, one is to command her life with authority, like a priest has authority in the Church. When asked to expand on this, he explained that there is the part of life that happens - the rain, for example. It just happens and we deal with it. The rest is for our command. Our life is ours to command, and we can take it where we will. Wow. It reminded me of when I was on the eve of being diagnosed with C and Eleanor asked me what I would do differently, given worst case scenario. As I am happy to recall, I said I would do nothing different. It was an affirmation of my life, the blessing in the daily living, and it was an acknowledgment of commanding my life. I really love this notion. And at the same time it’s daunting. We are the boss of ourselves. Dammit.

In what ways am I commanding my life? And where can I take more authority in the command my life?

Cease Fire

Day six into the war to end all wars on the C in my lungs, and we have to call a cease fire. It appears that the black belt drug, in its eager, and oh so noble attempt to help me get rid of the buggers on my lungs, has gotten my heart all excited. So excited that my blood pressure jumped way high. How high? You don't want to know. No seriously, you don't want to know. Suffice it to say, Major General Illiff, Joint Chief of Staff (my internist, for you lay people out there), urged me to stop with the chemical warfareuntil the blood pressure is in check. To do this we have other chemicals to introduce: a third bp med, and doubling my a.m. dose of bp med that I take now. We will reconvene on Monday to reassess the battle strategy and determine if the landscape can manage it.

Am I bummed? Oh yes, but I am grateful that my intuition kicked in at the right time and I thought to get my bp checked. Had I not - potential for major collateral damage of unknown proportions. Bummed to the nth degree and stressed about it. I know, wrong direction.

Stay tuned. I will have a battle plan on Monday, or thereabouts. In the meantime, I'm going to channel bff ZC, and be relaxed.

Black Belt Drug

The key to successful chemical warfare is to determine the appropriate mixture of toxins that will target, isolate and annihilate the intended enemy. There is a reason it is not sanctioned by just about any country that wishes to have allies in this world. It’s nasty, the most underhanded of the underhanded - the ultimate fighting dirty. Below the belt taken to another level.

But we aren’t trying to make friends here. We need no allies in fighting the Voldermort of all illnesses. All bets are off, and whatever it takes to defeat it and save ourselves we will do. A little GI problem? Deal. Nausea? We can handle that. Rash? We have something for that, too.

The arsenal is this: sorafanib, a multikinase inhibitor that has a black belt in attacking the protein that tells a cell to regenerate. Anna, the scientist, put it well:”Tyrosine kinase is a protein on the cell wall that triggers a cascade of reactions that cause a cell to proliferate. If it gets inhibited, then it cannot tell the cell to reproduce anymore, which takes away the immortal aspect of the cancer cell. They are temperature sensitive to heat, that why (I am) advised to take lukewarm showers and avoid the sun. Excessive heat will denature the inhibitors in the drug, which would allow the cancer to spread.”

This black belt ninja (am I mixing cultures? can one BE a black belt ninja?) is now set loose in me to do what it does best - choke the very air of life of the C cells. Prepare to die!

I'm Baaaack!

It’s been way too long between entries, so I need dust off the cobwebs of this blog and freshen up the living room of my thoughts on the cancer journey. Stay tuned. I am inspired to reflect outward on my trek, the blessings and the pains, and the pain of the blessings.

Many miles, much water between then and now.

In short, while the C has been held at bay for a long time, it has gotten to the point of wanting attention. Apparently many of the little nodules/spots/tumors that are itty bitty have joined forces in my lower right lung. It’s always dangerous when countries join together in alliance. Bullying ensues, and it gets ugly. Same here. It caught the attention of my oncologist (more on HER later), and with all the force of the U.N., but more of the authority, we are engaging in chemical warfare and it’s name is Nexavar. A mere six days into the battle, and we are still just doing a show of force, giving it a taste of what Hell will reign down on it in the coming days. As with all wars, the battlefied shows collateral damage. We don’t know yet what that will be. So far, so good.