Seems like the last few days off the air have been an eternity. To me, some of you might be thinking, ah, not long enough. ;-) Well see. I have a draft and a blog to post but I'm still battling with "stealing" bandwidth until we get an official internet hook-up in the new apartment — till then it's piecemeal like this. My apologies.
So the key points: Thank you so much everyone who's posted and sent email of support after the restaging. It does suck and all the other unpleasant verbs and descriptors that have and have yet to be used out there. Just not good. Seems like a primary task for me now is some kind of peace-making, some way of coming to grips with this shit, which I'm hesitant to do. Then too, there are still some concrete tasks to slip in between bouts of paralyzing reflection, body-curling slow pain waves, debilitating nausea, and the related shit. No, none of this is maudlin, I'm just not going to bother with couching anything right now because the time vs. politic speech ration seems unbalanced and unfair. Just trying to say this is now what a day in the life is like. More to come on the trivial details later I hope . . . . Though references to "fairness" (above) I also don't like, so scratch that. Appealing to such implies higher powers or processed that could make it all just and fair, and look around to see how often things are well balanced.
In any event, give the Franky Scale a wobbly 6, which makes it go both up and down. There is less nausea this many days out from chemo, the last cycle of which was cut one day short by the restaging. When it's not working, what's the point, that was the logic. But now I'm thinking "Do I start the next type of therapy on Monday or a week from?" A question with both psychological and physiological consequences. Telling, but telling what? Well, let's see first which choice I make.
I will try and get out to a cafe later today so I can post something else/also. For now this is what I got for you, from the calm grey skies of the emerald city.
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6 comments:
i sent you a text of what i thought brother. all the way, anything and everything throw at this mindless, stealer of life. matt and i talked about dan today. it was weird to think i havent seen my son in over a year and a half. this is just wrong. you, him wrong. i love you.
keep warm. it's getting so cold now...coffee tastes better here when it's so cold out. hope you are settling well in your new abode - someone to keep you warm...your cats too! :) i'll be on that side of the water mid next week until departure day which is looking like 11.7ish...hopefully sit with you to share a cup before minseo and i head off to warmer weather.
Dear Mr. Jones:
No, none of this is maudlin. Just heart breaking, disgusting and more ill
mannered, as the progression of this senseless and tragic disease; the symptoms and side effects progress -- threaten to rob you of your quality of life, rob us of you.
Thank you for having the courage to be straight forwarded with what you are
experiencing. I hope that you will continue to write; write it all and everything.
No, no couching of anything. You shouldn’t have to worry or expend
any energy in trying to protect anyone. This is YOUR LIFE we are talking about.
I hate the waves of nausea. I hate the fact the you are experiencing any pain.
I hate the fact that your hands or fingers get numb or whatever--- it is just like my
Tee shirt says; CANCER SUCKS. !!!!! It is the daily P.O.S. award.
I am here for you, for whatever you may need or want. I am stronger than
I may appear, stronger than what anyone thinks. I am more than willing to
take myself out of whatever pathetic facade of a comfort zone I may have appeared
to have placed myself in --
and be there for you. But these are just words-- and I know your love of words,
however, in this situation and instance you don’t need to hear my words. Both of us
deserve the actual doing, the action and strength, the knowledge of these
words and promises and wishes observed, visualized and actualized.
I wish for you good company, tons of episodes of peace and comfort, time for reflection
and reunions, as you write and speak to me from the gray skies of
your Emerald City. And please remember and know, that there are countless others,
though sprayed all over this Earth, and me, who are
gathered and unified together for only one purpose. For you and the quality of your life
and the hope and wish that you linger here LONGER. We still need to know and learn more
from you-- and we, the others, need the opportunity and chance to buck up
and do, give and offer more to you. Take on some of the burden.
I love you Scott. My thoughts and heart never stray far from you.
I carry you around with me-- instilling strength and gratitude everywhere I go--
for the precious and priceless gift, the honor it is to be your sister.
Wishing and hoping to see you soon. And also the opportunity to meet
Ms. K and the others that fill your life with love and support up in Seattle.
One selfish request--- I WANT pho noodle soup. Dammit. Put it in a doggy
bag or something. : )
Keep writing.
Love you brother--
Sheri
Mr. Jones:
It felt like an eternity to me you not being on the air! I kept checking back and....finally! TODAY! It is good to see another posting.
You are in here --pointing at heart--and in here --pointing at head--.
Peace.
Tracy
Dudeman--
I'm always amazed by your strength in the face of all of this. It's impossible for me to know or understand all that you are enduring, so I can't offer any advice, consolations, etc. All I can say is I think about you every day, I'm pulling for you, and I love you.
On the lighter side, ask the MLMers: "When do I get my helicopter?" Thanks for the posts and I'll see you soon.
dudeman, Myage: The strangest dream I had a few nights ago, it was you and D in that dream, and your "child." Whatever that means. Can you think of any interp of this? The age doesn't fit, nor the circumstance, but there was something going on, some entrusting, and I was trying, but it was all so unsettling. In the land of metaphor and symbol, condensation and displacement, maybe there is some meaning to it. If not, a few thoughts about you in my sleep, a nocturnal "hello." -Mr. J.
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