HELEN KELLER, YOU ARE MY HERO!
LIFE IS EITHER A DARING ADVENTURE,
OR IT IS NOTHING AT ALL.
helen keller
On Monday I saw Dr Ready, the very competent and very personable orthopedic surgeon who specializes in bone cancer. I woke for the second consecutive morning at 3:30 AM unable to return to sleep. That morning I was furious with the boy who cuts my lawn in Florida until I realized the absurdity of that and looked a bit deeper to unearth, as it were, the first real, intense, not-to-be-denied fear that I have experienced about this trip to Boston. It didn't last long but it certainly made its presence known.
Two days earlier, as I sat with Jeff in my favorite spot by the river, I told him that I felt like I had somehow numbed out. And that I wanted to peel apart layers of me to find some authentic core of me. I did not believe that it was possible for me to go about preparing my house and legal responsibilities in such a calm and efficient manner. Two years ago when I journeyed north to address the then undiagnosed pains, I lay severely ill in my friend's bed for seven months. I was preparing for any eventuality but feeling very little.
I did feel love and gratitude from and for my friends but even that was thinly veiled. Sharon Gless had brought a stone crab lunch from Miami for Jeff, Steven and me and that was fun. As was a cocktail gathering of friends who came to meet Sharon and say good-bye to me. I appreciated everyone. It was somehow me that I was missing.
Javier Cortez accompanied me to the Ready appointment which was inconclusive. I was scheduled for a CT Scan later in the afternoon so Javier and I went to a french cafe for brunch. It was during our conversation that I realized that the only difference between the tragedy and the adventure of my current experience was what I said about it! People seek out challenging adventures all the time. Those who run the Boston Marathon experience a plethora of difficulties, pain, and discouraging emotions and they choose it year after year. As do people who climb Everest, or carry babies, or start businesses. All choice. All adventures. I saw then that what I need to do is consciously choose this experience and the tragic recedes as even this part of my life becomes an adventure.
The full moon is shining into my window as I write this at the desk in "my" suite in Frank's mansion. Thank you.Tonight he made my favorite meal for dinner: grilled filet mignon and mashed potatoes followed by organic chocolate ice cream.Thank you. Tomorrow morning I see Dr Ready.Thank you.
My intention is that the cancer has not affected the perimeter of my femur and that I will then proceed with two weeks of spot radiation. However, if the perimeter has been affected I will have an operation to install a piece of titanium rebar in the center of my leg bone to reinforce it and then I will be radiated. By that time I should be fairly bionic.
I will know tomorrow...
GOOD NIGHT, LUCILLE
Jeff Hull just called to tell me that his mother, Lucille, died of metastasized cancer this afternoon.
Lucille was an inspiration to me. She was diagnosed with lung cancer about eight years ago and was not expected to live very long. And yet lived she did. Until very recently, she was still making new, younger friends, and going out to lunch every day. While she clearly adored Jeff she never prevailed upon him to alter his life to accomodate hers. Her attitude was contagious. Two years ago she visited Florida with Jeff and attended my birthday party until fairly late into the evening. The next day we were on the beach and I remarked on her positive attitude. She laughed it off telling me that I should see her in the morning but fortunately only her poor dog was there to listen to her complain. That she so assiduously refrained from allowing the complaints of her pain to fall upon others was her great, enduring gift. I will not forget her.
May her couageous spirit be received with Honor in the next world.
LIFE IS EITHER A DARING ADVENTURE,
OR IT IS NOTHING AT ALL.
helen keller
On Monday I saw Dr Ready, the very competent and very personable orthopedic surgeon who specializes in bone cancer. I woke for the second consecutive morning at 3:30 AM unable to return to sleep. That morning I was furious with the boy who cuts my lawn in Florida until I realized the absurdity of that and looked a bit deeper to unearth, as it were, the first real, intense, not-to-be-denied fear that I have experienced about this trip to Boston. It didn't last long but it certainly made its presence known.
Two days earlier, as I sat with Jeff in my favorite spot by the river, I told him that I felt like I had somehow numbed out. And that I wanted to peel apart layers of me to find some authentic core of me. I did not believe that it was possible for me to go about preparing my house and legal responsibilities in such a calm and efficient manner. Two years ago when I journeyed north to address the then undiagnosed pains, I lay severely ill in my friend's bed for seven months. I was preparing for any eventuality but feeling very little.
I did feel love and gratitude from and for my friends but even that was thinly veiled. Sharon Gless had brought a stone crab lunch from Miami for Jeff, Steven and me and that was fun. As was a cocktail gathering of friends who came to meet Sharon and say good-bye to me. I appreciated everyone. It was somehow me that I was missing.
Javier Cortez accompanied me to the Ready appointment which was inconclusive. I was scheduled for a CT Scan later in the afternoon so Javier and I went to a french cafe for brunch. It was during our conversation that I realized that the only difference between the tragedy and the adventure of my current experience was what I said about it! People seek out challenging adventures all the time. Those who run the Boston Marathon experience a plethora of difficulties, pain, and discouraging emotions and they choose it year after year. As do people who climb Everest, or carry babies, or start businesses. All choice. All adventures. I saw then that what I need to do is consciously choose this experience and the tragic recedes as even this part of my life becomes an adventure.
The full moon is shining into my window as I write this at the desk in "my" suite in Frank's mansion. Thank you.Tonight he made my favorite meal for dinner: grilled filet mignon and mashed potatoes followed by organic chocolate ice cream.Thank you. Tomorrow morning I see Dr Ready.Thank you.
My intention is that the cancer has not affected the perimeter of my femur and that I will then proceed with two weeks of spot radiation. However, if the perimeter has been affected I will have an operation to install a piece of titanium rebar in the center of my leg bone to reinforce it and then I will be radiated. By that time I should be fairly bionic.
I will know tomorrow...
GOOD NIGHT, LUCILLE
Jeff Hull just called to tell me that his mother, Lucille, died of metastasized cancer this afternoon.
Lucille was an inspiration to me. She was diagnosed with lung cancer about eight years ago and was not expected to live very long. And yet lived she did. Until very recently, she was still making new, younger friends, and going out to lunch every day. While she clearly adored Jeff she never prevailed upon him to alter his life to accomodate hers. Her attitude was contagious. Two years ago she visited Florida with Jeff and attended my birthday party until fairly late into the evening. The next day we were on the beach and I remarked on her positive attitude. She laughed it off telling me that I should see her in the morning but fortunately only her poor dog was there to listen to her complain. That she so assiduously refrained from allowing the complaints of her pain to fall upon others was her great, enduring gift. I will not forget her.
May her couageous spirit be received with Honor in the next world.
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