Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Day 81 -- Need sleep

Fell asleep on the couch..........feeling quite achy.  Zumba didn't help.  Might've gone at it a little too hard tonight even though I didn't do all the arm movements.  Lymph nodes under my arms and in my neck are hurting the most.  Need sleep.........................

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Day 80 -- Mindfulness

I was back at Mayo Clinic in Rochester today, this time for my younger daughter, who saw a dermatologist.  Yes, she saw my dermatologist.  And, yes, I set up the appointment.  I'm to the point where I know doctors in about a half dozen specialities at Mayo.  I'm thinking of writing a "Mayo for Dummies" book!!!  My daughter is fine, well, at least we know what we're dealing w/ and can treat it.  She has Dermatographism, which is a form of Urticaria also known as chronic hives.  Basically when she gets dry skin and scratches it, her body releases excessive histamines that result in hives.  Some prescribed antihistamines and thicker moisturizers should do the trick. 

After her appointment, we headed to the mall.  Browsing the shelves at Barnes and Noble, I found the book "The Miracle of Mindfulness" by Thich Nhat Hanh.  In it, he gives daily examples of how we need to be more mindful or conscious about our daily activities.  For example, he said if we're washing dishes then we need to only wash dishes.  It's not a time to be rushed through so that when we're done we can have a cup of tea.  Or, if we're eating a tangerine, we need to only eat the tangerine.  The man who absent-mindedly places one slice after another in his mouth misses the pleasure of its juices.  I understand this concept.  It's similar to the Be Here Now principle that I encourage my students to follow when they're giving their speeches.  No matter what's going on in their lives, I tell them, all that matters is the seven- or ten-minutes that they're in front of their audience.  So I decided to practice what I preach throughout the rest of my day.....to be mindful of what I was doing as I did it.  So as I was driving, I was completely aware of the bright, beautiful sunshine and my sleeping daughter smiling beside me.  Yes, she was smiling in her sleep.  That's true contentment.  I tried to be mindful while walking the down after we got home, but I found my mind wandering.....a lot.  Wandering to what needs to happen for the remaining three weeks of the semester.  What needs to happen for the two days that my other daughter will be in the hospital later this month for more tests regarding her Crohn's.  I got so lost in my thoughts of the future that I completely missed the clear night sky and all the Christmas decorations.  I wasn't walking the dog as I walked the dog, and as a result I missed the joy of everything around me.

I was mindful as I met Michael's family and viewed his body at his wake.  I was conscious of learning that I had one of his sister's in my class several years ago.  Strange that I wasn't aware of this before.  A unique, last name like Wichtendahl should've resonated w/ me.  I apparently wasn't very mindful when she was in my class, although as soon as I saw her in the church, I recognized her as a former student.  I was extremely mindful as I looked at Michael's sallow, sunken face with the deep gash in his forehead that three weeks of healing and excessive make-up couldn't erase.  He looked older than his 19 years and older than I remember him just three weeks ago.  I'm not sure going to the wake was a good idea b/c now, instead of his goofy grin, I see his stoic face.  They didn't even try to give him a smile.  I remember the mortician didn't give my mom a smile either.  People who smile all the time in life should be shown smiling in death.  I want to be cremated with my ashes thrown from a lighthouse. Anyone who needs to see my dead body for reality to sink in should get to me before the incinerator does.  Michael was wearing one of his favorite caps w/ sunglasses resting on the bill, just as I'd seen him wear three days a week for two months.  That made me smile.  They also had a video he made playing in the vestibule.  He was lip-singing to the song, "Don't Worry, Be Happy."  That made me laugh. 

Monday, November 28, 2011

Day 79 -- Michael

Enough already.  A student, Jacob, informed this morning that his friend, Michael, also a student in my class, died on Friday the 25th.  Michael had been in a serious car accident on 4 November and, according to his obituary, put up a helluva fight to overcome his injuries.  Okay, I added the profanity.  Michael would've appreciated it.  I knew the accident left him paralyzed, but this news of his death was completely unexpected.  I had no idea that he'd even been put on life support until Jacob told me Michael's family decided to take him off the machines.  I know their anguish, but then Mom never should've been intubated at all.  I hope they got a chance to say their good-bye's.  To be present at someone's death is powerful.

Shortly after Michael's accident, I made a goofy card for the rest of his classmates and myself to sign.  I have no idea if he was ever conscious enough to read it or have it read to him.  If he did, I hope it made him chuckle.  A few weeks ago, I received an email from the college's registrar that Michael's parents were petitioning for his grades to be finalized at that point in the semester.  It was completely my decision, and I'm especially glad now that I granted that petition.  I regret not checking w/ Jacob more often to find out about Michaels' progress, but the two of them were like peanut butter and jelly..........completely inseparable and an ooey, gooey mess.  I didn't want to put Jacob through the questioning.  Even today when he talked w/ me after class, he started the conversation by saying that he wouldn't be in class on Wednesday b/c he'd be at a funeral.  I had to then ask who had passed away.  I'm not sure he would've told me if I hadn't asked.  Maybe I shouldn't have; then I could keep imagining he was getting better.

I only knew Michael for about two months, but he was a charmer.  He had a smile that was devilish and impish and sweet.  The last image I have of him in my mind is him walking past my office and flashing that huge grin w/ Jacob two steps in front of him.  That was a just a day or two before his accident.  It was a cheesy grin that materialized quickly from a deadpan expression that somehow communicated sincerity.  The two of them had been best friends since they were in first grade.  Michael told us a story in his first speech about how he pulled down his pants and mooned his first grade class.  They were fast friends from that point on.  I regret having deleted the video of that speech.  I asked the IT department if they could retrieve it from our Shared Drive, but the trail was cold.  His family would've appreciated hearing what Michael had to say about his life up until this point.  Michael would've flashed me that grin and then promptly said, "Hell, no."

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Day 78 -- Dying Past

Home from my holiday travels.  I'm always happy to return to my hometown, but each visit becomes a reminder that I have less and less in common with the places of my youth. And the connections became fewer w/ this visit as two women who I've known all my life passed away.  It didn't help matters when my dad announced that he'd be the third.  It's always been an "old wive's tale" that death comes in threes.  He's 86, and he's ready to go.  He's lonely.  The two-year anniversary of Mom's passing is quickly approaching, and I think he has it in his mind that he would only have to live two years after her death.    It's hard to be engaged in living when there's so much death, illness, homelessness, and poverty.  Perhaps getting lost in the superficiality of Christmas will cheer me...

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Day 77 -- Another Thankful Thanksgiving Meal

A good night's sleep and good food helps smooth over hard feelings and ruffled feathers.  Chronic pain and illness can also be at the root of tempers flaring.  My brother has Fibromyalgia, giving him constant pain, especially after he's had the pressure-point injections, which he had just a few days ago.  My older daughter has Crohn's Disease and has recently been on a low-dosage of Prednisone to clear-up some mouth sores.  Part of her flaring temper was due to this flare-up of Crohn's and a small case of roid-rage.  I think we also understand that no matter how dysfunctional this family is, it's the only one we have.  Maybe that's how we got to this point of not discussing controversial topics b/c rather than spending our time together w/ a friendly debate, we'd spend it in different rooms.  Rather pointless to get together just to spend it apart. 

We managed to have a lovely day celebrating our Thanksgiving along w/ my other brother, his wife, and their youngest son.  We also put up a Christmas tree and other decorations for Dad. This will only be the second Christmas since Mom passed.  He said he didn't want a tree and teases that he'll have to get ready for bed five minutes earlier just to shut off all the decorative lights, but I think he appreciates the fuss.  Enough time has passed that he can look w/ less sadness at the decorations that Mom lovingly put out every Christmas.  I, however, was a little sad in going through all the decorations and finding some from my childhood.  The red, felt reindeer w/ plastic gold antlers and the white plastic sleigh.  Ah, they just don't make decorations like that anymore!!  Mom never threw anything away.  She was a pack-rat, but a very clean and organized one.

I said something today, I don't remember exactly what it was, but it involved the future....how old we'd be and what we'd be doing.  I was elusive and non-committal, and my older daughter said, "Mom, you'll still be around."  I tend to just smile at such comments.  None of us, cancer-free or not, has any idea of what the future holds.  I think that's why the time I spent w/ the group of homeless people resonated so.  They hold no stock for the future.  They live for today, from one moment to the next.  Thankful for a warm meal and a comfortable chair.  I'm going to continue to work hard at eating well, exercising frequently, and boosting my immune system, but the farthest into the future that I'm looking right now is about 30 days. Guess I don't fully have the homeless person's moment-to-moment philosophy yet, but then I'm not homeless and pray that is one trial God won't put me through.

Day 76 -- The Lost Art of Discussion

(NOTE:  I'm staying at my dad's, and he doesn't have Internet so I wrote this entry on the 25th of November and saved it on my laptop intending to post it when I returned home on the 27th.  I'm still at Dad's on the 26th, but the gusty wind must be blowing in the right direction tonight.)

This morning while driving over the 11th Street bridge on my way from my brother’s to my dad’s, I thought of the homeless man I met yesterday and wondered if he slept under that bridge last night.  After listening to my daughters and brother argue just now, I’m wishing I was under that bridge right now.  My family has never been good at discussing issues.  Discussions become arguments that turn into shouting matches.  It comes from too many people thinking they’re right and not listening to others’ points-of-view.  They feel that by listening, they’re admitting defeat.  Of course, the root of tonight’s discussion-turned-argument is religion.  My younger daughter has strong convictions about her faith, but my older daughter feels she uses those convictions as an excuse to be “holier-than-thou” and thus above the typical rules and reproaches.  My brother then jumps in w/ sweeping generalizations meant to sting rather than advance any discussion.  I just want my children and my family to be unselfish, help others, and accept all people, regardless of race or religion. 

The typical pattern of argument in my family is to offer a jabbing remark and then walk away before anyone has the opportunity for cross examination or rebuttal.  Questions are asked with a tone a condensation, “Do you really think being a Christian is an excuse for everything?”  I’m not taking sides.  I just want all sides to listen.  Having a belief shouldn’t exile you from the group but should make the group stronger b/c you’re willing to state your beliefs.  Why does everyone in a family have to believe the same things?  I have friends w/ a wide variety of values and beliefs.  Why can’t my family?

I don’t need to sleep under a bridge.  My daughters and brother have all stomped off to different parts of the house.  My older daughter has actually left the house.  She’s 18.  I can’t force her to stay and talk this out.  Eleanor Roosevelt’s words are ringing in my ears, “Small minds discuss people. Average minds discuss events. Great minds discuss ideas.”  Just when we’re on the verge of greatness in discussing the ideals of religious beliefs, we revert to smallness by talking about specific actions of certain people.  Religion is about asking questions to get closer to the answers, not assuming you have all the answers so you don’t need to be questioned.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Day 75 -- Happy Thanksgiving

I spent my first Thanksgiving in 19 years w/o my daughters.  They continued the tradition I began w/ my ex-husband of going to his family so today I started what may become a new tradition of serving the homeless.  I helped to prepare Thanksgiving dinner for about 20 homeless individuals at the day shelter, Cedar Valley Hospitality House (CVHH).  It's a day shelter, which I learned today, is a place for the homeless to receive their mail, shower, use the phone, do their laundry, get a hot meal, and socialize.  At first I was a little disappointed at such a small shelter.  I had grandiose notions of serving hundreds of homeless, although why I would find it more satisfying to have more homeless people is perplexing.  I quickly overcame such thoughts upon entering the house at 1003 Mulberry Street.  The familiar smells of turkey and dressing greeted me along w/ new smells of loneliness and neglect.  I found my way back to the cramped kitchen where Joni Hansen, the director of Hospitality House, and Dan, a former transient who is the only full-time occupant of the house, were madly moving roasters to balance out the breaker usage.  The house has no stove or oven so all the food had to be prepared or warmed in roasters and crock pots.  The rhythm of the house quickly revealed itself as the people who drift in and out of it on a daily basis adapted to each other's habits.  A young woman asked if charging her cell phone would trip a breaker.  It didn't feel much different from my own home, with people filling and unfilling the bathroom as I stood at the kitchen sink washing serving trays.

When we took a coffee break, I had an opportunity to sit with some of the transients.  The first woman I talked w/ told me she had two children, 8 and 10, who live with her parents in a town about 20 miles away.  This woman is very, very thin like someone who has given her body to drugs and too many missed meals.  But her hands were beautiful.  Long, slender fingers that nervously touched her face as she talked about her children.  Later, just when we were about to eat, I noticed she was crying.  I hugged her and followed her out to the front porch.  She had just been on the phone w/ her father who said he only had six months to live.  At first we sat in silence, her b/c of this devastating news and me b/c of the memory of such devastating news.  I gave her silence, and then I gave her my story of being in a similar situation four years ago when we were told my mother only had two more years to live.  I told this homeless woman, estranged from her daughters and parents, that at least we have the chance to say our "Good bye's."  Victims of accidents have no such luxury.  I have no idea if I helped or hurt.  She left shortly after eating to visit her boyfriend at the psych ward in a local hospital.

Another young man I met who is bipolar has parents living 15 miles away.  He'll probably be spending tonight under a bridge.  He's been at the Salvation Army shelter for the last 10 days, and his time is up.  He won't be able to go back there to sleep now for the next 60 days.  He said under the bridge isn't so bad b/c you can climb up and sleep under the girders where you're out of the wind and rain, and the police don't bother you.  He has a sleeping bag, and CVHH gave him two new blankets today so he felt pretty optimistic for the evening.  He told me of the probation officer he first had ten years ago who is now retired and let's him keep his bags and backpack in her garage so he doesn't have to haul it around w/ him, and it's safe.  She also pays him to do odd jobs around her house occasionally.  Most of his meds are paid for through assistance programs, but two of them cost him $8.00 a month.  It will probably only drop down into the 40's tonight, but colder weather will be here before he can go back to the Salvation Army.  There's a Catholic shelter that allows people to stay for 21 days, but then they have to wait 90 days before they can go back.  Even after the 90 days, if there's no beds, he can't get in.  There's no waiting list.  He has to check back there every day after his time limit is up to see if he can spend the night.  Joni is a champion for the homeless. She tried several times to find a place for him to stay for the night, but alas there was no room at any inn.  I guess the bridge will be his stable for the night.

These people were all very willing to talk w/ me about their past and present lives, but no one talked about the future beyond this evening.  Futures don't exist.  A man who has a car has no where to sleep tonight so he'll be sleeping in his car again.  He once was a janitor in a factory, but he said he walked out after refusing to do something he felt was unsafe, and now they won't hire him back.  He has a friend who owns a shed w/ a heater in it so if it gets too cold in his car, he can sleep in the shed.  I think about all the walnuts the squirrels have stored in my shed.  I don't have a heater for them.

There was another man from New York who watched Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade and recognized the streets.  I asked if he'd ever like to move back.  He said, "No."  He has a factory job here that pays minimum wage.  I told him about a story I heard last night about the new gold rush happening in Nevada and a young man who was making $70,000.  The man who sleeps in his car used his cell phone to Google the current price of gold.....$1800 an ounce.  We all laughed in amazement, but Nevada is too far away and too far in the future.

The chief of police showed up, not to harass the homeless but to help serve them.  A very gentle and unassuming man, he brought his five children and one international exchange student to help.  His oldest son is a senior at University of Wisconsin; swims on the college team; has a bright future.  He was the only I told about my illness. 

As I waited on the front porch for my brother to pick me up, Gary, a man who said he was tricked by a friend to come here from Virginia, hit on me.  He asked if I was married, and when I told him I was divorced, he said he was looking for a good woman.  I asked him if he had a job, and he assured me that even though he didn't, he had a lot to offer.  I have to give him credit, Gary was the only transient I talked to who was looking farther into the future than just one night.  Well, I'm assuming he wanted more than a one-night stand.  I didn't feel even a twinge of guilt as I hopped into my brother's new Sebring.

Day 74 -- Not a Passing Predicament

I was on the road Wednesday, 23 November, travelling to my brother's in Waterloo so this entry is a day late.  I remembered at about 10:30 on the night of the 23rd, after I was snug in bed, that I hadn't done this blog so.....

I have to admit that today I'm still a little disheartened by my test results.  I think a big part of me believed that I would have a miraculous recovery and this would be the end of it.  After all, it happened before w/ my brain aneurysm and kidney cancer.....a couple of surgeries and that was it.  The realization that this lymphoma isn't just a passing predicament and is something I'll have to deal w/ for the rest of my life, however long that might be, has hit me hard.  Yesterday and today have been very similar to the first two days after my initial diagnosis in July.  I have to get my head around this and make some mental adjustments.  Yesterday's news isn't the end of the world.  I'm a survivor.  I just need occasional reminders.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Day 73 -- A Modest Proposal

If you expect the worst but hope for the best, you settle for something in-between.  That sums-up my follow-up appointment at Mayo today and explains the dream I had about Mom night before last.  My neck, abdominal, and pelvic CT's showed "modest" shrinkage of the affected lymph nodes with no new growths.  Not the best news but not the worst either.  Dr. Inwards, my hematologist, was hoping the four Rituximab treatments in September would've had a greater impact, but he gave me the option to wait-and-see or take the next form of treatment.  Wait-and-see means not doing anything for the next three months and then running the same tests.  Inwards said it's possible that since these tumors have been slow-growing for the last several years, the Rituximab just needs longer to work.  The next form of treatment would involve the same Rituximab combined w/ low-dose chemo administered once every four weeks over a six-month period.  I chose the first option, although I sense the second option will be waiting in the wings.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Day 72 -- Recurring Dream

On July 1st this year, my post, "A Mother's Arms," was about a dream I had where I felt my hugging me despite her being dead for over a year-and-a-half.  Two weeks after that dream, I was diagnosed w/ Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma.  That dream was no coincidence.  Mom was comforting and preparing me.  Last night Mom was hugging me again in my dream.  This time was slightly different b/c Dad was in the dream too.  Near the end of the dream, I hit some type of button or switch, and the lights went out.  Dad was so angry w/ me b/c when the lights came back on, Mom was gone.

Tomorrow I go to Mayo for blood tests and abdominal and pelvic CT's, followed by a consult w/ my hematologist, Dr. Inwards.  I can't help but wonder if Mom visited me last night to once again comfort and prepare me. 

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Day 71 --

Time has certainly been a theme of my entries recently.  Time spent throughout the day.  Time spent throughout my life.  Time remaining.  Time yet to come.  Time waiting for my CT's in two more days to tell me how I'll be spending my time. That means time is spent remaining yet waiting.  Maybe this blog is a waste of time.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Day 70 -- Chim Chimanee

Feeling good.  My regimen of Neti Pot, Tylenol, and Airborne seems to be working to stave off a cold.  Aside from driving on some extermely icy roads this morning, my day has been quite relaxing.  I had the rare treat of eating dinner w/ both my daughters and then watching a movie.  I truly appreciate the blessing of spending a Saturday night at home with my teenage daughters.....certainly one for my mental memory book.  I tried to make a fire in the fireplace, but I think there's too much build-up and nesting materials.  I was able to dig some of the twigs out, but after setting off the smoke detector, I decided I'll need to call a chimney sweep.....I don't even know if there is such a person anymore.  Where's Mary Poppins when I need her???

Day 69 -- Absorb, Blow, Suck

T'is the season......for leaves.  Walking the dog earlier, I came upon three different men dealing w/ their leaves in varying ways.  One man was roaring across his lawn on his riding mower absorbing the leaves in his bagger.  Another man was blowing his into one large pile while the man across the street from him was sucking them up w/ a vacuum-like device.  Since I didn't see any small children to jump in the pile, I'm assuming the man blowing will strike a deal w/ the vacuum-man.  All-in-all, none of these men had to employ much physical labor to get the job done.

I fear as a society we're heading down the path of anti-labor.  Instead of raking the leaves together and gathering them into a bag to be hefted to the curb, we absorb, blow, and suck our way into laziness.  But to ease our consciences and please our doctors, we join health clubs to walk on a treadmill.  We'll probably even get to the point whee we virtually walk our dogs on a treadmill in front of a rolling screen of scenery, allowing the dog to stop every 20 paces to pee on a virtual tree.  Then that will evolve into computer chips implanted into our brains that allows us to imagine walking the dog where we imagine the dog just pooped on the neighbor's lawn, and I imagine I pick it up.

I'm feeling much better.  Still taking the Airborne and Tylenol on a regular schedule.  Didn't think too much about the lymphoma today except when I had to forewarn students that I won't be on campus next Tuesday since I'll be in Rochester for my appointments.  Then tonight while volunteering at the youth center, there were new people to talk to and somehow the conversation always turns to health.  So although I didn't dwell on my illness today, I wasn't able to just not think about it.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Day 68 -- Walking in Someone Else's Past

Sometimes I feel like I'm walking in someone else's past.  It's not really a DeJaVu, but a feeling like I'm walking through an exact place in the present at the exact time someone walked there in the past.  It's humbling to think that others have walked the sidewalks and hallways and pathways and trails that I walk now.  I wonder what they were seeing and thinking and feeling.  I think that every place we go, we leave some of our energy, and the more times we walk the same sidewalks and hallways and pathways and trails, the more energy that becomes concentrated there.  I feel that energy the most when walking in my hometown b/c it's the only place that has 18 years of my concentrated energy.  After that I never lived in the same place for more than three or four years until moving to this town where I've lived for over 12 years.  That would explain why I'm starting to feel that concentrated energy here b/c I keep crossing my own path and all the paths of those before me. 

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Day 67 -- The needs of the many...

I'm feeling much better tonight, both emotionally and physically.  I started taking Airborne again this morning, but it's the dissoluble tablet instead of the chewable.  I think the tablets are much faster-working.  After just three tablets along w/ Tylenol each time, I'm feeling 100% better.  The connection b/w good health and mental well being is astounding.  When I taught high school, I did an exercise w/ my students where I gave them a list of values such as health, money, family, etc. and asked them to pick their top three.  For these teenagers, health rarely made the cut.  I have to admit that 15 years ago when I taught these high schooler's, I didn't place that much value on it either.  Now I realize that health actually has to be the number one value otherwise none of the other values are possible.  Without mental and physical health we don't feel like spending time w/ family or spending money or improving our intellect or worshiping a higher power.  Nietzsche wrote his most famous works during a 10-year-period during which he quit his job, suffered poor health, and had little contact w/other humans.  Then after a mental collapse, he spent the next 11 years in a semiconscious state before he died.  He gave us some of the most astounding existentialist philosophies but at what cost.  Spock may have been right when he said, "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few," but I have two daughters who need me in a very healthy and conscious state.  So my number one value is health.  All other values will fall into place after that. 

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Day 66 -- Silence Speaks Volumes

I have cancer, and I'm scared.  It's easy to be sunshine and roses when you're feeling good, but I don't feel good.  My ears and throat are hurting again, and I'm tired.  And when I don't feel well, I distance myself from others.  My younger daughter took this to mean I was mad at her.  She came down to my bedroom just a little bit ago in tears, worried that the cancer was making me not feel well.  I said, "I don't think so," but I really don't know, and that's what scares me and worries her.  I wish I could've sounded more convincing.  She asked if I thought I'd need chemo if the Rituximab treatments didn't work.  I said, "I don't know.  I'll know more next week when I have new CT's."  So many unknowns.  So much waiting w/ so many unknowns.  She snuggled w/ me and cried w/ me and apologized to me for not being more help around the house.  She's a busy, 15-year-old, sophomore in high school so I don't expect her to have time to help, but it was nice to hear her acknowledge all the work I do.  There's so many things I wanted to say while we snuggled but couldn't b/c I couldn't sound strong while choking back tears.  Maybe that's what I ultimately told her in the silence, her cradled in my arm.   You don't always have to be strong.  You can be scared.  You're human.  And sometimes silences speaks volumes.

Monday, November 14, 2011

Day 65 -- Grounded in Now

I've noticed the less I pay attention to time, the more on-time I am.  Yesterday morning getting ready to leave my sister's, I set a general time of departure for 10:30 to give me an hour to pick up my daughter from her friend's church.  Without really thinking about time, I took my time having coffee, visiting, packing, getting dressed.  When I finally started my car and pulled away...........it was 10:33. 

Even when I was a young, I felt like a little girl in a big hurry, like I didn't have much time to do what I needed to do.  As a result I've spent most of my life wearing a watch and paying attention to time.  A few years ago I stopped wearing a watch except at times when I absolutely have to....times like in class when I'm using the projector screen and can't see the clock.....times like when I was in Europe and on a tight schedule. 

Tonight while walking the dog I realized how much I've been writing about time, both the quality and quantity of it.  So tonight I resolved to only pay attention to what my senses told me of the moment.  The sky was the soft, black velvet of the floor-length skirt my brother gave me when I was 10.  The air had the crisp smell of dried leaves mixed w/ burning walnut from chimneys.  The crunch of leaves as I see my friend Barb approaching w/ her dog, and we stand for 15 minutes catching up w/ each other's lives.  All that really matters is now.  The cold plastic of the retractable leash, my thumb poised on the button.  Nothing to taste, just the dream of the roasted almonds and soy milk I'm going to have when I get home.  Grounded in now.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Day 64 -- Listening to My Body

I'm finally back on track with writing these.  Definitely feeling the affects of Yoga today.....very tight shoulders.  Zumba would normally beat it out of me, but I have a board meeting tomorrow night followed by Jazz Band practice.  I could always Zumba on my own.........nah!!  I do find myself listening more closely to my body these days, trying to identify the root of an ache or pain.  I can definitely trace the tightness in my abdomen to the Yoga and not the lymphoma. 

After arriving home and picking up the dog from a friend's house, I did a different type of listening.  I went to see Damon Dotson at the Little Swan Lake Winery.  I'm really becoming a groupie, and I even got to play an impromptu duet w/ him....Damon on guitar and me on a wine glass.  Sounds weird, I know, but the glass was perfectly pitched to the key of the song he was singing.  So, with the heavy, silver ring I bought in Toulouse, France, two summers ago, I clanked my way into a duet.  The audience cheered it, Damon said he loved the spontaneity of it, and I got a few minutes closer to my 15 minutes of fame.

Day 63 -- Two in a Row

I didn't forget to post on Saturday, I was just having too much fun.  My sister and I went to a yoga class in the morning.  I found muscles hiding behind muscles.  We all then went to a wonderful lunch at the Red Stag in downtown Minneapolis, followed by a delightful afternoon exploring the Minneapolis Institute of Arts.  I would need an entire week to fully appreciate all the pieces at the MIA.  An intimate dinner party rounded-out a lovely day.  Aside from answering a few questions about my health, I really didn't think too much about the lymphoma.  That's two days in a row. 

Day 62 -- Oops

I really pulled an "oops" for this entry.  Staying at my sister's in Minneapolis for the weekend, I completely forgot about this blog.  It could've been the wine, or it could've been visiting w/ my sister and her family, or it could've been other distractions, but I forgot to spend a moment writing about my day.  It was a pleasant, "oops" in that I managed to not think about having lymphoma all day today. 

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Day 61 -- Busy body

Well, speaking of busy.....tonight's entry will be short b/c I was very, very busy today and tonight.  Today I managed to accomplish teaching two classes, getting a hair cut, seeing the eye doctor, buying groceries.  Tonight I made two soups, a loaf of peanut butter chocolate chip banana bread, corn bread muffins, a salad, and dinner.  With all that, I had to have added a few seconds to my timespace clock. 

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Day 60 -- Spacetime

Watching Nova tonight, I learned that time moves more slowly when it's in motion.  Einstein theorized this, and scientists proved it in the 1970's.  They placed one atomic clock on a jet airplane and sent it around the world and kept the other atomic clock motionless, in one place.  The clock that didn't move was slightly ahead of the clock that was on the plane.  I guess the lesson here is that I need to keep moving to slow down time.  Silly, Einstein, I've known this all along.  Why do you think I stay so busy? 

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Day 59 -- Planning for the Future

How do you plan for the future when you don't know how long that will be?  I met w/ a financial consultant today regarding my retirement accounts.  When he asked me where I saw my future, I felt I had to tell him about the lymphoma.  He definitely wasn't expecting that to be part of my response.  He stumbled and fumbled a bit and then ultimately returned to his scripted ideas of imagining that today I'm 47 and tomorrow I'm 67 w/o most of the financial obligations I have today.  I told him I just want to make sure my daughters are provided for, and then I joined in on his back to the future game.  I played along that I'll retire at age 67 and told him what I would like my income to be at that point.  It's really a strange position to be in to plan for retirement when you have cancer....to be looking so far into the future when I should be making the most of one day at a time.  I don't have a Bucket List, and aside from being more conscientious about diet, exercise, rest, and stress reduction, I haven't changed my daily activities.  I go to work.  I do laundry.  I cook and clean.  I enjoy my daughters and my friends and my family.  I walk the dog.  I go on hikes whenever possible.  One thing that has changed is not stressing about taking my daughters out for Mexican food in the middle of the week or getting a 30-minute massage.  But I think that has more to do w/ no longer having a husband who stresses about expenses than it does w/ having cancer.   I've known numerous people who make it to retirement and then die in some bizarre accident or of a massive heart attack.  I don't want to make it to retirement not having enjoyed the trip to get there.  It was easier to make changes to my retirement plan today once I looked at it, one year at a time, knowing that I can adjust the plan next year.  Planning for an uncertain future is easier if that future isn't so far down the road.

I should point out that the consultant said my financial future is right on track for me to retire at 67, but if I want to retire earlier, I need to start putting more into my retirement account now.  So, do I save the money now to spend when I'm 62, or do I live like I want now and screw those last five years?  I'm going w/ the latter.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Day 58 -- Kick e'm when they're up, kick 'em when they're down

I have a student-athlete who is always upbeat and chipper, bringing positive energy to our class discussions.  Today he was very quiet, down-in-the-mouth, and limping.  When I talked w/ him after class he told me that he'd hurt his knee during a wrestling match over the weekend.  I'm usually sympathetic toward my students so I don't know what possessed me to say, "It's easy to be happy when you're healthy, but a true sign of a person's character is when he can be happy even when he's not feeling well." That doesn't say much for my character to kick a kid when he's down.  He was scared, and I chose to be philosophical.  Shame on me.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Day 57 -- Composure

I almost wish there was a way I could've told everyone all at once about my illness, then maybe I wouldn't get sucker-punched.  After church this morning, a woman I've known for 12 years caught me on my way out-the-door and said, "I've heard some news about you."  Knowing full-well what she was driving at but needing time to compose myself I replied, "I hope it was good."  "I just heard you're divorced and.....," she couldn't even verbalize the last part.  Why can't people say it?  It's just a word.  Reminds me of the scene from St. Elmo's Fire when Wendy and Billy are at her parents' house for dinner.  Her mother, Mrs. Beamish, whispers certain words like cancer.  When she asks Billy how he met her daughter, he says in a hushed voice, "Prison."  So even though I've been feeling extremely well both mentally, physically, and emotionally, I had to whisper my as I began to weep when I sensed her pity.  I tried to take the smart ass approach like Billy, but it backfired.  Mostly b/c she wouldn't let me get away w/ the smart ass remarks.  So much for that defense mechanism.  We hugged.  She told me that I could call her if I need anything.  We parted.

Why do I have I have to be composed when talking w/ people about my illness.  I have no problem talking, and even joking, about having NHL as long as I initiate the conversation so it's on my terms.  But when others beat-me-to-the-punch, I've lost control and thus my composure.  Yes, I have control issues, which becomes especially problematic when dealing w/ a serious illness.  I haven't yet worked out my script for when people confront me about my cancer.  Yes, I'm a person who rehearses several possible scenarios and conversations before the interactions ever take place.  Call it staging or manipulation or pathetic, but communication is what I've studied and taught for nearly three decades so although I know the benefits of impromptu communication, I also know its pitfalls.  It takes me a long time to be able to just say what's on my mind w/o running it through the gauntlet of possible interpretations.

The minister this morning said that we can't truly live until we hand over the controls to a higher power.  I'm trying.  I can handle handing-over the big stuff like my life, but the smaller, day-to-day things are a little harder to relinquish.  I was told recently by someone I had only ever talked to on the phone that I'm very "guarded."  He turned out to be a jerk, but he was perceptive about that.  Probably one of the reasons I unleashed on one of my classes last week was b/c I was tired of guarding my emotions.  Sally tells Harry in When Harry Met Sally that he has to stop telling everything he's feeling the minute he's feeling it.  There has to be a happy medium b/w wearing my heart on my sleeve and putting a jacket on to cover them up.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Day 56 -- Cast Party

I'm hosting my daughter's cast party.  While 15 super-charged ,dramatic teenagers are acting-up, I'm downstairs catching snatches of conversations punctuated w/ uproarious laughter.  I think I just heard them say something about "spoons."  Theatre people are never a dull crowd.  One of the other parents said to me after tonight's performance, "I hear you're entertaining the cast," to which I replied, "I'm just providing the house.  They know how to entertain themselves." 

I haven't talked much about my health lately, mostly b/c there's not much to report.  I haven't had any new lesions for the last several days.  I've been using the Neti Pot to cleanse my sinuses so I stopped taking the nasal spray as well as the antibiotic.  I haven't taken an Airborne or aspirin for about two weeks.  I'm trying some Greek yogurt in addition to my daily DanActive.  I must say that I'm feeling pretty super-charged myself.  My muscles have finally loosened up from Zumba so I'm not walking around like a 90-year-old woman.

My dog, Kea, just joined me in the basement.  I guess even a dog can get too much attention.  Hope they don't decide to start acting out The Wizard of Oz; Kea will be hiding under the bed.  But there's certainly "no place like home," especially when it's filled w/ the laughter of show people.

Friday, November 4, 2011

Day 55 -- Looking Forward to Now

No chance to be a grouch today.  My students were attentive.  My dad came to visit.  My younger daughter was a smash hit in the fall play.  She's been acting, singing, and dancing on stage since she was three, but seeing her tonight at age 15, she's a young woman.  And, whether she likes it or not, she looked like me up on that stage.  Well, me 32 years ago.  And I can still vividly recall being on that stage at age 15 loving it as much as she did tonight.

I've noticed since my diagnosis that I don't look forward as much as I used to.  In past years at this time of year, I'd be eagerly looking forward to Thanksgiving and The Holidays.  Now, I look forward to what each day has to offer.  Yes, cliche, I know.  Things are sneaking up on me lately, but I don't care.  I made pumpkin bars at 10:30 last night b/c I went to a concert instead.  My bathroom needs desperately to be cleaned, and my dad is sleeping in my room.....and I don't care.  For those who know me, these are extremely atypical behaviors.  I used to freak out if everything wasn't prepared and staged well in advance. 

I used to look forward to the changing of the seasons.  Now I notice the number of leaves on the tree and on the ground each day and cherish each day that doesn't involve snow.  I've always been a forward thinker, forward in the sense that I was always looking toward what the next week, month, and year had in store.  I can remember thinking when I was younger that I was a little girl in a big hurry, and I was always pushing myself to the next event.  That attitude has helped me accomplish a lot w/ my life, but now I don't want to look forward to anything.  I want to look for now.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Day 54 -- Little Mary Sunshine

Some days I get really tired of being "Little Mary Sunshine."  So this morning after an extremely frustrating nine o'clock class, I decided not to be..."sunshiny," not "frustrated."  I walked down the hallways at the college where I teach w/ a scowl on my face and not looking at people, two actions that are quite contrary to my public persona.  Two of my students walked passed me expecting a warm smile and greeting.  Instead I stared straight ahead and said nothing.  "Why should I be friendly toward you when you don't even have the common courtesy and respect to show up to my class," I thought.  So I was feeling pretty good with this chip on my shoulder...very freeing not to feel constantly on display.  Then two students stopped by my office to ask if I was okay....damn them.  My chip started to chip.  Then I talked w/ my friend Lora, and she made me laugh.....damn her.  My chip now had lost a big chunk.  Then I got home and listened to my younger daughter giggle w/ her theatre friends.....damn them.  My chip was now a mini-chip.  Then I went to a Damon Dotson concert.....damn him.  My micro-chip dissolved.  Maybe I'll try again tomorrow to be a grouch. 

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Day 53 -- Touching My Space

My presentation to the massage therapy students went really, really well.  I think I actually came up w/ some viable and practical suggestions for them to make their clients more comfortable even on the first visit and thereby making the session much more productive.  We talked about E.T. Hall's zones of personal space, and I suggested that they bring this stranger, who prefers the public zone, gradually toward the intimate zone.  First, they would sit down in the socio-consultative zone and gradually introducing touch through pats on the hand and arm in the first part of the consultation and w/ a longer touch to the shoulder and upper back at the end of the consultation.  Then while introducing them to the massage room, they would enter into the client's casual-personal zone that's typically reserved for friends.  Hopefully, once the massage begins and the therapist enters the client's intimate zone, some of the tenseness and anxiety will have dissipated.  It was exciting to talk about nonverbal communication in a practical sense while still applying theory and research.  This morning helped me remember why I love studying and communicating about communication.

Health wise, Zumba was killer tonight since even walking up stairs sends my legs into revolution.  I think by next week, I'll be in better shape.  Since my nephrologist made me stop  using the nasal spray b/c it was raising my blood pressure, I bought a Neti Pot to basically give myself a nasal enema.  Very freaky concept to pour saline water in one nostril and have it run out of the other one.  This is probably too much information so I'll simply say...... my sinuses feel wonderful, and the ear pain I've had intermittently is gone.  Who knew that a little, plastic teapot shoved in my nose could bring such relief!!

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Day 52 -- Freedom

As predicted my legs were quite sore, but I forewent the massage this afternoon in order to finish the presentation I'm making to the massage therapy students tomorrow morning.  I know....there's a bitter irony in that statement.  I've known about this presentation for about two months, but somehow it snuck up on me.....I sound like my students. 

I went w/ a couple of friends tonight to see a film called, Freedom that was supposed to be a documentary about freeing ourselves from dependency on oil, both foreign and domestic.  It turned out to be more of a propaganda piece sponsored by Green Plains Energy, an ethanol-based company so it was a little disappointing, but it was interesting to learn some of the innovative ways they're working to harness the CO2 emissions created by ethanol plants.  Anyway, it made for a lively Q & A time after the film as well as discussion in the car ride home.  Friends have a way of taking away all aches and pains and worries.  Family do too....especially when I get phone calls from my brother!!

My mouth is completely healed, and there are no new lesions anywhere on my body.  YEA!!!  Aside from the stiffness from being out-of-shape, I'm feeling great.  I guess seeing the film tonight was quite prophetic......I have freedom from lymphatic achiness.