Coping

I have coped well. My healthcare providers have encouraged me to take antidepressants and I have asked what for? This last week though tried me almost to the point of tearing the hair out of my wig. All the little annoyances that they said would happen seemed to all hit this week.

On top of that my dad finally made the trek to Gainesville and had the much ballyhooed surgery on his spinal column. Tonight we are all spent from an overload of emotions.

Tomorrow is chemo number 4 and the last one of this cycle. I am telling everyone that the next cycle of 4 will be a piece of cake. (Chocolate I hope, in fact Texas sheet cake at Jimmy Z's Barbecue Bistro to be specific.) But as I was told this week, I am overly optimistic, so I don't really know what will happen. All I know is this, I have beaten the odds, my eyebrows are still intact.

Long time no post

Yes I know I am running behind on posting, but in my defense, I have cancer. Using the cancer card sometimes comes in handy. I broke up with the man I was seeing by telling him I had cancer. There were skid marks on the phone. Then a friend of mine wanted to stop seeing someone so I gave her permission to say, "My friend has cancer and I am spending a lot of time taking care of her." At first she resisted, but finally ... Then there are my sister's homework assignments. Truth is, she really is busy taking care of me and gets behind.

It doesn't work with everything though. Did I mention that I may be losing my home? I got into a bad mortgage and at the time, I wasn't quite told everything which is my fault I never knew I needed a lawyer to read the contract, I thought this was a little more commonplace document. Refinancing isn't an option because currently the value is 1/3 what I owe. So now I am trying to do a short sale to a lovely anonymous friend who will in turn rent it to me. If that doesn't work then my next option is foreclosure. In the meantime, I am no longer paying my mortgage. There is no advantage to my paying it, and I was discretely advised not to. Not to mention that the mortgage company, when I tried to negotiate with them several years ago, told me as long as I was paying my mortgage they wouldn't talk to me. They're talking to me now. They don't really care that I have cancer, but oddly enough I understand. It's their job and if they had a choice I'm sure they would be doing something else.

I have lots of choices. I actually have a good job, good insurance, loving family and friends. So I try to have compassion for the people who cannot find any employment except to call people and demand money they don't have. And I have been polite until one young lady asked me why couldn't my husband pay. I called her impertinent, which I doubt that she understood the meaning (OK now I am being snarky). They will continue to call and I will continue to tell them I have cancer, and it won't matter because the cancer card doesn't work with everyone.

My new look

photo © Rhonda Prince 2010
I don't look the same as I used to, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. It's not just about the hair, but that's a start. My face looks different, of course steroids have made my round face even rounder, and I am finding that I want to dress differently and even have adjusted my makeup. When I look in the mirror I don't see the same person I used to see and I find it gives me the freedom to be a different person which is definitely not a bad thing, most of the time.

I am becoming more outspoken which is a blessing and a curse. I find myself looking at my life and evaluating the importance, but I still find that I can get obsessed over some of the same old things.

Last Saturday night my friends came over for a lesson in meditation. I have toyed with meditation for a number of years but still struggle with focusing. I try to make it a part of my prayer life because as I was taught by a 90-year old nun what's the use of talking to God if you aren't going to take time to listen to him afterwards. So one of my friends is an experienced meditator and she agreed to come and lead us in a guided meditation.

Later as we discussed the experience, my sister told of a method she'd been taught where you visualize your problems as a river that just go floating away from you. I thought about this image for a while and the next day I called her with an exciting addition. You picture your problems as the person most responsible and as they are swept away by the current they smash their heads against a huge rock, repeatedly, before being swept away. My sister didn't think this was the kind of positive thought process that fit with prayer and meditation, but for a day it really seemed to help.

OK, occasionally I deal with anger and depression issues and am not happy every moment of the day, but then who is, cancer or not. In the meantime I remember the kindness of people, my excellent health insurance, and the fact that I have beaten the odds...my eyebrows are still intact.

The Jericho Road

Today's gospel lesson was on The Good Samaritan. (The old testament reading was about plumblines, which I found highly amusing having grown up with a father who was a builder, but that is not the intent of this missive.) I think most people know the story of The Good Samaritan, though not sure about almost anyone under 35, what they do and don't know ever since I found out my young co-workers don't know Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, but I am going to assume for the sake of expediency, that everyone does know the story.

Anyway, when the priest delivered his sermon, he focused not on the familiar story but on the road where the Samaritan found the injured man, The Jericho Road. The road, as he described it, was 17 miles of desolate wasteland. As he spoke, I realized that I am on my own Jericho Road. However, I am surrounded by Samaritans. My friends, family, and colleagues have rallied and supported me on my journey by ensuring that my every need is attended too even before I ask. I am truly blessed.

Besides my mother, the person who has sacrificed the most to care for me has been my sister. She is a school teacher and a photographer in Chattanooga who gave up her summer to travel to Florida and help out myself and my parents. To do so she gave up teaching summer school and a part of her income. We offered to compensate her for the sum but she refused. So instead we have been buying her things: clothes, shoes, StarBuck's, makeovers. Yesterday was a good day for me, so we went shopping, and I bought her some more things. She started crying at one point overwhelmed by our generosity and said in all seriousness, "I feel like a cancer wh**e" (uh lady of the evening).

The problem with saying things like that or doing nice things for me, you know it's going to end up on my blog, and I warned her. But I didn't know that the sermon today would talk about Samaritans and desolate roads. The priest went on to talk about those that pontificated about the road and those who actually took action, like my friends and family. Unfortunately, I can't provide makeovers for everyone, so all i can do is say thank you for all you've done and all you probably will do until I reach the end of this particular road.

Life as I knew it

I generally like change. New hair-do, opportunities at the office, or new cars. Some changes I don't like. Loss of a loved one, republicans taking office. You know the really bad stuff. After finishing my Ph.D. I wanted a change in my situation. Cancer wasn't what I had in mind, but this week it occurred to me that my life has changed and the chances that it will ever go back to the way it was are slim to none.

Some of the changes are, of course, not so good. When your stomach and bowel habits become a part of your normal conversation, that just can't be something anyone embraces with unadulterated joy. Preventing mouth sores, taking a daily temperature so you can ensure it doesn't reach the magic number of 100.5, drug-induced sleep are just a few of the realities that are now my life. Occasional bouts of grumpiness (OK my sister would probably say they are more than occasional, but I like to pretend that they're not) unleashed on people who obsess over stuff that really just doesn't matter.

There are positive changes as well. I feel free to more openly speak my mind without fearing consequences, of course that can lead to grumpiness (see paragraph above). I have learned about the great kindness of many people, and I have found that I relate to most of my old and new friends and family in different ways that somehow feels deeper and more meaningful. Being somewhat "helpless" and needing people has been difficult, but has shown me that, in the words of Sally Fields, "You like me; you really like me."

I still don't know what I want to do with my life when all this is behind me. As I try to focus on my talents and possibilities, I get distracted by the need for toast. Warm sourdough bread with unsalted butter and a glass of milk to stave off the unmentionable. As I said, there are a few positives.

My father's heroes have always been cowboys

My father loves cowboys. As long as I can remember he has watched every western ever made (though I am still working on getting him to watch Brokeback Mountain) and then watched it again 3 or 4 times for good measure. We started every Saturday morning as kids watching Hopalong, Red Ryder, and Gene Autry before settling down to the more serious fare of Bullwinkle and Underdog. My father still loves cowboys and often plans his week to enable him to watch AMC the day they have cowboy movies all day. I don't know what day that is, but if he enjoys it ...

I mentioned the other day that my father had some difficult choices ahead. To help our family make these choices, my mother made an appointment with Dr. G. Dr. G. has been the neurologist treating my father for 15 years. There is an unusually close bond between my father and Dr. G. and he has come to be the individual who coordinates my father's health needs, just because he seems to care.

On Friday my mother, sister and father went to Dr. G. to lay out the options. After listening to the information and viewing the reports, he compared my father's situation to a couple of cowboys. Specifically, Butch Cassidy and and the Sundance Kid. "Picture it like this," he said, "you're Butch and Sundance standing on the precipice. On one side the law is bearing down and your fate is sealed. Or you can jump off the cliff. Maybe you'll break your neck, but maybe you'll swim away to freedom. At least you're giving yourself a chance." So they decided to take the leap.

Someone told me once that Butch and Sundance not only did survive the leap but went on to establish themselves in Bolivia. I have the internet at my finger tips, I could look this up, but I'd rather make up my own ending and imagine them swimming away from the federales. I suppose this post is about my father and not me, but in our family, we are all connected and when the bell tolls, it tolls for all of us. When he jumps, we'll jump with him, even if it means swimming to Bolivia.

Distractions

In the old days I would panic without a book. That is one of the reason I always carried large purses so I could always have a book on me just in case I was stuck waiting somewhere. On Tuesday when my sister and I went to chemo we carried books, computers, iPods (containing books on tape of course) and Androids. But apparently that isn't enough and now the Android phone has a Kindle application that lets you download books to read. I downloaded a free book "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" which will give me the opportunity to ALWAYS have books with me to read. I need never worry about loading my purse down with books. I have also ordered a cable for my car so that I can play my iPod and listen to books.

Music is OK, especially if I can sing along in my automobile, but I love stories. I love books. I love magazines. I love objects that deliver books and magazines and newspapers to my distracting devices. People have worried about the death of reading with all onslaught of the internet and multiple distracting devices, but now I have more opportunities to read. However, I still enjoy the feel of a book or magazine in my hands and turning pages, while I now have more options to read or listen to books, it will be a long time before I give up on paper.

So when I go to chemo treatments or wait for doctors with too many patients, I am able to lose myself in a book. This is a wonderful distraction that works way better than obsessing over eyebrows or heaven forbid, working. If only I could find a way to have chocolate delivered so efficiently as well, everything would be perfect. Who worries about cancer when you have books.