It’s Wednesday and a perfectly dreary afternoon here in Cincinnati. You know, the kind of day where the sky looks like a blue screen minus the color. A light drizzly rain is falling and all these days are really good for is taking a nap, or curling up in front of a picture window with a good book. I’ve just finished three of the toughest weeks I’ve had on chemo since I started. I wasn’t going to whine about it here, but a lot of people have said to me, “keep writing even if it isn’t about anything particularly pleasant” … here goes.
The last couple of days as the effects of the last three weeks wear off (mouth sores, sore throat, loss of appetite, severe tiredness, and bone and muscle fatigue) I began to wonder how sincere I am when I start my days off with my grateful heart mantra/chant. Am I doing it because it’s what I do, have I sold myself on the idea of doing it, or am I full of cow manoob, as Amanda’s mother used to say. I think the answer in this case is a little of all three. I do want to be sincere, but it’s hard to get pumped up when every cell in your body is being poisoned (for my own good of course). When I asked Dr. W if there was something I could do to minimize side effects, he said, “you mean other than not pumping you full of poison”? Guess not.
I am committed to and will continue to fight this battle until I drink the bitter dregs (remember the Micky’s big mouths in high school), but I have to say at one point last week, I fully understood why someone would decide, screw this, I’d rather die. I get it. That started another whole daisy chain of thoughts that wondered if I would feel this way if I didn’t have confidence about my dying process. I realized at the end of the day, that while I have no answers on what is going to happen the moment after i close my eyes for the last time, I do have a peace about it. I expect to come face to face with that which is beyond our understanding, which we are incapable of knowing while covered in clay. What happens after that has been envisioned by every group of people throughout time on this planet, but we still just don’t know. So in my moroseness let me just say that while wrestling with these things is never fun, it is necessary to at least have an idea of what you think is going to happen and how you see life unfolding at the end of your path. It is highly likely and possible that someone reading these posts will “expire” before this cancer gets me. Have you decided to what it is that you open your heart in gratitude in the morning. Who or what is it that you rest in when times are tough. Name it, Look at it. Pull it into your heart. Own it. Live it.

Thanks for listening