GREMLINS, COCONUTS, AND OLD FRIENDS
My operation has been postponed until next Wednesday, April 22nd, at 9:30AM. There was a mix-up in my medication and I was unable to have the operation tomorrow. I need to be free of blood thinners for a week before surgery. I was told this afternoon that the next available surgical appointment will be the following Wednesday. I was not happy. I have been waiting, somewhat on edge, for ten days and another week of hanging about and walking on crutches is discouraging.
And because I'm feeling sorry for myself I'm going to take this opportunity to step from behind the screen. I don't consciously hide my feelings but I am aware that the darker side doesn't get readily revealed because I do engage in a conscious practice of changing my negative thoughts as soon as I can. But I certainly have negative thoughts and negative emotions as well. They most frequently come as I retire at the end of the day. Like some creepy little night-crawling gremlins who live under my bed they clutch at my feet and keep reminding me that I'm no longer like other people. What I am sensing is the numbness that results from the chemo-induced neuropathy that worsens with fatigue. What I am thinking is how the neuropathy is such an annoying, if bearable, and utterly reliable reminder of the myeloma that lies hidden in the darkest recesses of my body. And what I am feeling ranges from mild frustration to a much deeper sadness resulting from the awareness that I will never again know the light-hearted freedom and easy movement of one who has unfettered access to good health. These are not the only times when I may be assailed with such victim-like thoughts and feelings but they are the most frequent.
Indulging in these negative thoughts is akin to paddling a canoe upstream; a very difficult task depending upon the current. However, by merely lifting your paddle out of the water, the current will effortlessly turn the canoe about and it will be carried downstream with no exertion whatsoever! I often use something beautiful in nature to remind me to lift my paddle out of the water. For instance, I will focus my attention on a particular tree, on the way the sunlight falls across a lawn, or on the caress of the breeze on my arm. Once I allow myself to give my attention to some burst of natural beauty it is easier to release the loop of negative thoughts and the painful emotions that follow. Sometimes television, music, or movement serves the same function. My favorite cognitive redirection is water; either a swim or a strong shower, especially if it is in my outdoor shower where I can see the open sky while the water does its magic.
You see, that is the only magic I know. I have no hint of denial about the diseases that afflict my body. Each of them is life-threatening; that is: one of them will most likely be fatal. Death (I avoid the euphemism of "passing away". We would not say:"Empty the vase the flowers have passed on." or "The old oak tree in the back yard passed away last winter." We avoid the word like a child avoids looking under his bed at night lest he confirm the presence of monsters he fears reside there. Death. Say it aloud and it begins to lose its fearsomeness), so as I was saying, death from any of these diseases could be hideous but I have no way of knowing how I shall die. So why would I spend one second of my precious life ruminating about which form my eventual death will take?! It will come as it comes. And, please God, I will be as present as possible to that transition however it comes.
Now you may have heard that more people die from being hit on the head by falling coconuts than by shark attacks. I love that factoid. Think of the panic aroused on a beach should someone yell:"shark!" - but who's afraid of falling coconuts? As you might notice from the sunset photo at the top of the blog, the river bordering my garden is lined with coconut trees. Who knows, some evening as I sit placidly watching the sunset sipping a cocktail and bemoaning the gremlins grasping at my feet I may be taken out by a coconut!
Tonight Frank brought home Chinese take-out. I swear to you that I found the following fortune in the only cookie I opened:
Look up an old friend
if you're feeling down
So I did.
1 comment:
Hi Gary. Coconuts, eh? I thought it was car accidents? Or, those 58-some flights I completed across the continent? I'll be careful about those coconuts now that I am living back in California.Somehow, we find something within to look beyond. . .even if 1/32 of an inch. Or to ignore, or whatever it takes to avoid that coconut. And even if the coconut falls, it may be 1/32 inch next to us. But what if it is upon us, such as the cancer you are dealing with? In Walking In Balance (Lynn Andrews), I read this quote the other day when faced with my own feary-fear: "Fear gives you a perfect opportunity to learn. It gives you the opportunity to witness, and when I say witness I mean just to sit very silently and watch, not meditate, but just observe your feelings as they well up inside you, your feelings of pain, of whatever comes up. You need just to witness; watch what happens; do not make any movement or judgement or choice. Simply watch what happens. The witness will nourish the brilliance inside you." In no way am I giving you advice nor am I indicating I know exactly what you feel. But your blog describes your still personal witnessing very well. Fear is real for all of us on many planes; yours appears profound yet you are talking to it. Please continue expressing to us your friends/loved ones, and we will respond and listen and pray with you. I love you, Jeanette
Post a Comment