At The Threshold

 Shall I struggle for that next breath or should I let go and give in to the amazing Peace that lies ahead?

By this time I have definite awareness of standing  apart from my body.   In the next moment I thought of my grandchildren and simultaneously rejoined my body.  All I wanted was to Live.  The decision was made in the blink of an eye.  It was December of 2018 and nothing has been the same since then.

If you don’t mind people looking at you as if you are a stark raving mad, tell them that you have had a near death experience. 

I live in a  nation  of various God worshiping faiths and yet there doesn’t seem to be much confidence at all in Life Everlasting.  I’m here to say,it’s real.  And to those who think is all a bunch of boloney…what a surprise you have in store for you.

Wishes, Regrets & Gratitude

My mind these days runs a mile a minute. There is that ever present fear of running out of time.  Does every moment count?  Sometimes it seems so.
And I wonder.....
What would my life be now if I'd had exposure, decades ago, to the beauty and peace of Islam/The Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) and where it all fits into the truth of progressive  revelation? It's been the missing piece all along.
I need to back up my narrative to 1976 when I was floundering in my Christian faith.  I want to tread lightly here as I would be horrified to think that I have undermined the faith of any my Christian friends.  I will state this vaguely by saying that logic & my own concept of God led me to question my faith.  It was at this time that I was introduced to the Baha'i Faith.  The pieces of my Christian faith began to fit into a bigger picture.  (Big sigh of relief for the much younger version of myself. )
My more recent history involves my  study of the Quran and the conviction that this too is a gift from God, as much as is the gift of Jesus (PBUH).  This is what I somehow missed all of these years.  I feel a bit sad and regretful. At the same time I am grateful for the gift of time that allows me to learn.
Why blog it?  I feel led to make this statement of faith
Time is running out.  Not just for me but for all of us. I leave this, in part, for my kids and grandkids that they have a deeper understanding of who I am. Also, selfishly, it just feels peaceful and right to be authentic in the expression of  my convictions.

Hanging On

Like most cancer warriors, hope is not consistent.  Some days a lot.  Some days not so much.   I discussed some persistent pain with my Onc. on Friday  He did physical exam and ordered an MRI. I went from there to the chemo room for treatment.  At this point I was hopeful.  Then I made my big mistake.  I logged into an interfaith discussion forum.  Unfortunately there was a "Christian" spewing some nastiness.  As I read her various comments I felt my faith and hope evaporating, negative energy replacing the good.  By the time I arrived home my thoughts were in the darkest of places.  How and with whom I spend my time matters.   I have several days to go until I my MRI. Scanxiety is in full bloom 😫

Lesson learned.  I need to take great care to avoid negative people, especially when the uncertainty of cancer is following me around like a gray cloud. 

One last thought about inter faith discussion.  When the discussion turns ugly how is this one bit different from the hideous religious wars that have gone on forever? It doesn't serve God in any way. Best to walk away and to do so quickly.

So, the sun is shining today.  I have my shorts on and intend to enjoy it.  Don't anybody worry about me.  It's a little bump in the road.  I made a mistake in not turning away from negative energy when I should have.  Live and learn, right?   

Sitting With Strong Determination

In the practice of Vipassana there is an exercise called 'Sitting with Strong Determination'.  The goal is to sit motionless (except for the motion required for respiration) with eyes closed for one hour.   Head, arms, hands and legs are held motionless. During this hour you are to observe your body's sensation without reacting.   Don't scratch the itch on your nose, don't adjust posture to address the pain in your back or the cramp in your leg.  Observe without reaction.  While observing these sensations without reaction we learn  an important lesson:  There is a rising and diminishing of all of our sensations.   We learn the temporary nature of  what we feel, physically and emotionally.  There is great value in knowing that 'all things pass'.

Meditating in this manner, without reaction, translates to real world/real life benefit.   It disciplines the mind to observe, without reaction,  the events occurring around us or to us.   The goal is to pause, consider if action is necessary and to anticipate the consequences before acting.   The goal is action, not reaction.

I am very much in the infancy of my practice of Vipassana.   Consistent   equanimity is still a goal.   I'm getting an occasional  experience of it here and there throughout the day.  It makes me hopeful.    Practice, practice, practice.

Each morning I practice Sitting with Determination for 1 full hour.  Again in the evening for 30 minutes.      I'll see where this  leads me in the coming years.   In the meanwhile I enjoy the deep, restful sense of peace that comes with meditation.  That in itself is reward enough.

Vipassana, a life changing experience.

I've been wanting to blog about my Vipassana experience in Washington.  I still cannot find the words.  This has been a life changing experience for me.  Expressing something  so monumentally significant in my life is challenging.  It might be impossible.

1. My experience of spending 10 days in the presence of evolving, thoughtful, beautiful humans was, in itself, completely worth the 1200 miles of driving and the investment of time.

2.  Vipassana meditation has given times of deep peace and clarity that I never experienced before in my life...ever.

3.  I have the means at my disposal to return to sanity and balance  any time the world overwhelms me. (If often does!)  I can find rest in this whenever I need.

4.  I understand that I am in the infancy of practice,

5.  I believe with every ounce of my soul that meditation has the potential the heal ALL  the ugliness in the world.

6.  To pray is to ask. .  To meditate is to listen.

7,  My experience of  life is deeper, richer and more joyful since beginning a meditation practice many years ago.  I can say with absolute honesty that it is so much more so after my 10 days in Washington.

My blog  is short and incomplete, for now.  I'm taking baby steps on a new path.  More to follow.

My son's 2nd grade teacher hurt his feelings. He is a grown man now and she is 6 feet under. I have not forgiven her. My meditation "guru" said that practice can be like lancing a wound. This one came up for me. How do I forgive someone who has hurt my child? Do I even want to? Meditation isn't always pretty. I left this fact out of my blog. I shouldn't have.

LIBERATION

BEFORE: Protestant, Christian, Methodist, all labels that I've worn over the years.    I was born into these labels, handed to me by my family, my community, my culture.  Born elsewhere in the world to a different set of parents, I might very well  have been Muslim, Buddhist, Jewish, Hindu or atheist.   In recent years I have  needed my spirituality to be more than happenstance, a roll of the dice.  Coming nose to nose with my own mortality in my battle with cancer  has led me to look closer, think harder and longer about matters of the heart & soul.
 How dare I look beyond the religious lessons of my youth?  Rebel that I am, I have.   No regrets.

 The United Church of Christ in Fairfield Mt and St Pauls United Methodist here in Helena will always feel like home to me.  I have chosen to move on (move forward?).  I don't know the appropriate phrase to apply.  I will say though  that  I bring most of what I was as a  Christian along with me on this new journey. It will not be left behind in some forgotten place in my memories.

 I've come to realize that there is more.  Much more.

NOW:   I am free to honor that place, practice, belief, intellectual conclusion, emotional awareness  in others  that allows each  to connect  with the best part of themselves.   We are  all in search of this place, each in our own way.   From a spiritual perspective this has been liberating for me.  I've fallen in love with this feeling of liberation!  :)

Last night  I was reading parts of Book of Revelation.   It has always been the most confusing  book of the Holy Bible for me, making very little sense.  Now, for whatever reason, the puzzle pieces are (bit by bit) beginning to fit.  It's an exciting time for me.   I've been freed   from labels, expectations, and a  belief system  that I inherited and was never truly of my choosing.   I have so much more to learn and I need time.   At the end of the day, though, I know that I'll never have enough time here on earth to arrive at that place of awareness that feels like my destination.   A little more time, though, would sure be nice.

Today, 1 day after treatment,  I found enough energy get on my bike and go for a ride.  It was a beautiful morning.  Fall has definitely arrived.  The air was cool and my T shirt and sweatshirt were a perfect choice for the ride.  Several miles down the road, my thoughts cleared and this blog began to take shape in my head.  The clarity of thought that I experienced on my ride  evaporated before I began typing. Haha!  Does any of the above makes sense?  it doesn't matter if it makes no sense  at all.    My journey.  No one needs to understand it.  Maybe that's the point of my blog.  Each of us is  on their own journey.  Let's give each other space.  Can we do that for one another?

Random Thoughts of A Cancer Warrior

The worst of my thoughts come in the quiet of night when I awaken and I am momentarily unprotected by my fortress of optimism.  

I disappoint myself.  My mind says yes. My body says no.  If I can't rely on my body, the people in my life cannot rely on me. 

People  often forget that I have incurable cancer.  On good days, so do I, sometimes for hours at a time. 

I think of my cancer friends who have lost their battles.  I think of them every day.

I feel random moments of gratitude for my life multiple times a day.  It is my 1st thought in the morning, my last thought at night. 

How will I ever bear to leave my grandkids?  It is the worst of thoughts. 

I have learned to live in the present moment.  Most of the time. 

Living with uncertainly is a skill that requires practice.  It IS possible. 

Cancer has been my greatest teacher.
Cancer is lonely. 

I feel moments of JOY every single day.  Not just happiness, but joy.  The real deal.  Thank you, Cancer for that. 

Everyday is a lifetime.  I mean this in a good way.  Each day is an opportunity to live and be as I wish. 

When making future plans, anything beyond 6 months feels like foolish fantasy.  

I spend at least an hour everyday in prayer/meditation.  It's not enough.

If I outlive my husband, by some miracle, I will be mad. 

The tumor by my hip bone feels smaller.  Am I lying to myself?

Why did the tumor in my pancreas stop growing 4 years ago?  Why?

I've outlived my prognosis by 10 years.  Why am I still here?  

I am extraordinarily vulnerable when I don't feel well.  Most people  have respected that and tread lightly. Some have not. Forgiveness comes easily.  

Quality of life matters.  It is compassionate to let someone go when the time comes. 

I'll keep fighting.  For now.

Sisters, change and hiking once again

In the summer of '91 my sister and I headed up the now familiar trail 202 in the Montana Wilderness with our 10 year old sons.  Our lack of experience meant our packs were overloaded, poorly planned and so very heavy.  Ours sons, also on their first trip, were running ahead of us most of the way, ridiculously unconcerned about the hazards of bears, errors in navigation or the possibility injury.   Our 1st trip in the Bob Marshall Wilderness was 4 days long.  We traveled less than 15 miles.  It was the first of many.  As the years went by, our trips became more ambitious, our packs more expertly packed and we became more savvy and confident.  Trail 202 holds a special place in my heart.  Like a first love, the memory remains sweet and treasured.

With each trip, we learned.  We learned to pack an adequate amount of food after failing to do so on one very long, very hungry trip.   We learned the wisdom of packing rain gear, in spite of a forecast of clear weather.  We learned to pack band aids and blister packs no matter how confident we were of our boots.  The list goes on.  We became experienced backpackers.  We became confident and well prepared.  

I remember Pretty Prairie as a lovely meadow, filled with wild flowers and bordered on it's west side by the Rocky mountains and on it's east side by the trout filled Sun River.

As we traveled the first mile of our 2016 trek, change became obvious.  The wildfires of previous years were evident all around us. Tall, barren lodgepole, blackened by fire had replaced the shade and scent of thriving trees.   Without the shade, the trail itself was dusty and dry and the aroma of dampened earth was gone as well.  We three sisters, now in or sixties, or rapidly approaching now each hiked with a set of trekking poles.   Our footing had become less certain, less confident.   As I hiked along, reflecting on the changes of the wilderness and ourselves I was reminded of particular piece of wisdom I had read recently.

When we at last reached the southern end of Pretty Prairie, it was all but unrecognizable.  Thousands of trees had fallen after burning.  The naturally created dams ultimately changed the course of the river.  This necessitated a change in the trail as well.  The trail no longer cut through the center of the prairie, but along the edge of the mountain that bordered it's west side.   It took several moments for us to get our bearings.  At last we noticed the faint line of a our "old trail".  It was quickly disappearing  amidst the new growth of prairie grass, bushes and the new trees that were rising up from the ruins.  

I grew up 30 miles east of these mountains.  As a child, I viewed them as solid, unchanging and forever the same.   The lessons of change came later in my life, as it does for most. 

  As we hiked back to our base camp, I admired the new growth of trees coming up beneath the tall, but lifeless trees.  They were lush, plentiful and the beautiful shade of green.  New hope.  The cycle of life.   The floor of the forest is brimming with new life.  It's a beautiful thing to behold.    I thought also of my grand kids and their place in the cycle of our families evolution.  Young, fresh, beautiful and filled with promise.  The old falls away and the new rises up.  Change.  It's a good thing.

I have no doubt that my grand kids will hike the trails of the Bob Marshall Wilderness.  It's in our blood. It's our heritage.  Their paths however, will be different, their experiences unique and unknown to me.  This is as it should be.   

New Beginnings

It's been awhile since I blogged.  I've been feeling well and life is busy.  I have booked up every week end in July and into August as well.  I'm making up for 3 lost summers.   Those were summers that I was struggling to survive and not really living.  '
I'm fat.  The injury, surgeries, cancer drugs etc. etc.  After three years of not being able to work out property or even engage in life in any sort of real way I am left with too much fat, not enough energy and a bit of a road ahead of me to get back my "pizzazz".
On July 4th I joined Weight Watchers.  I have fitness goals, in addition to weight loss goals.  33 pounds.  Cancer has taught me how to keep going in spite of how difficult it is, or how impossible it seems.  That 33 pounds is a foregone conclusion as far as I am concerned.  I'll succeed.  I expect it to take the better part of a year, however.  I have to do it safely, without compromising my treatment/immune systems.
Currently I am swimming 1 miles 5X a week and going on 2 bike rides per week.  A mile in the water feels like a long way.  I am a slow swimming.  It takes me an hour.  It does feel good though!  Bike rides?  Easy.

So, there is is.  New beginnings for me.   In a year I will edit  this blog post to include before and after pics.  

Havoc In My Head

I have been living with cancer for 12 years.   This past year was the worst.  It was the Black Hole in my life.  I seem to have come out the other side, intact and happy.  And Oh So filled with Gratitude.

Last September  things got ugly.  I began to have to odd sensation in my head.  I can only describe it as the feeling that the lower section of my brain was floating away.  I would lose focus, become dizzy and lose balance entirely.  Vertigo.....nausea.....suicidal thoughts.  I could not walk without help.  The first time it occurred I thought it was a stroke, or perhaps a tumor in my brain.  Bill asked if I wanted to go to the hospital and I told him I preferred to die at home.  (Yes, i did believe it was my last day on earth),  Eventually it subsided and I spent the night on the bathroom floor with blanket and pillow.
This scene was repeated dozens of times over the next  months.
I began to lose my hearing during this time.
I saw and ENT in addition to my oncologist.  Later I was referred to an audiologist.   Brain Cat Scans,  MRI.   No one could figure it out.
Meanwhile I began wishing for the end to come.  I wanted OUT.  I came to understand why people give up and choose to die.  Quality of life matters.  When you are unable to lift your head off the pillow or even open your eyes with out becoming nauseated, it is time to make a decision.  I was so there!
Then something wonderful happened.
March 6th I went in for my Cat Scan and Oncologist appt.   The tumor had grown.  The chemo wasn't working.
March 6th, the last day I took Votrient.  March 6th, the last day I felt my brain floating way, my legs giving out beneath me, and the extreme nausea that comes with vertigo.   The last time I swallowed those 4 pills was the last day that I thought I was dying. Damned Votrient was creating havoc in my head!!! Cancer drugs are serious business and side effects are not always predictable or easy to understand and identify as such.

I am on immuniotherapy now.  It worked for Jimmy Carter.  It can work for me.  And I feel GREAT.  I will scan on June 21.  I have high hopes.  In the meanwhile I am enjoying life....enjoying my grandkids...the rain, the sunshine and whatever else comes my way.  The Black Hole is behind me.  My hearing loss is most likely permanent.  I'll be followed by my audiologist for the next year.  No worries.  Hearing aids work great and I've got my life back.   And to all of those who chose to withhold  judgement while  I was struggling, my eternal gratitude.
This will be the best summer ever.

Facebook and other Confusion

I have shut down my facebook for now, or forever.  It can sometimes be a brutal environment.  On sick days, which have become all too frequent,  I am all too vulnerable.  Right now I surround myself  with those who understand the difficulty of this disease that I live with...

One More Day, a Warrior

It's been a dozen years, or so, since I began this journey with cancer.  I'm tired.
Every day  I wake up, I have to make the decision again. Do I keep trying?  It is the first decision of the day.  The answer  used to come  easily.  Of course I'll keep trying!   The alternative was considered briefly and then quickly discarded.  These day, however, surrender tempts me.  I am oh so tired of the fight.   The thought of surrender is beginning to feel like an act of accepting peace.  The thought has been sneaking up on me bit by bit for the past year. I think of closing my eyes and drifting off to that place where the struggle is over.
Today, I found some energy somewhere and went to the gym.    I spent 65 minutes on the treadmill,then I got into the swimming pool for some laps.   This is what a long term cancer warrior must do. Without maintaining my strength I may not survive the next  tumor, the next surgery or the next treatment.  It is not an option.  I get my tired old ass out of my chair and I work at being the best warrior that I can be to fight this shitty, impossible disease of mine.  
This is how I have survived 11 years beyond my original prognosis.   It's not magic.  It's hard frickin' work.  And....did I mention that I'm so very  tired of the fight?!!

I'll most likely get up tomorrow and do it again.  I'm not completely ready to toss in the towel.   When that day comes, though,  don't call me a quitter or accuse me  of giving up too easily.  When the day comes that I decide not to fight any longer,  rest  assured that I've given it a great deal of thought and that I am at peace with the decision.  I hope that everyone else will be at peace with it as well.

The Whole Dying thing....

The whole dying thing is so trippy.   It's a real game changer when you finally absorb the fact,  with absolute certainty that it's not just something that will happen to 'somebody else'.  As silly as this sounds, there is a level of understanding that comes to the elderly....and the terminally ill.  It's a different level of understanding.  It's real.
In that moment in time when the full reality of death came to me, my body shook for hours, uncontrollably.   It was raw horror.  Some time later I reviewed my memory of this day in my life.  I was somewhat shocked to realize how emotionally divorced from the reality of death I had been.  That was 11 years ago.  The horror dissolved into a calm acceptance.   I am no longer  afraid.

 That day  was the beginning of what I now think of  as my "real life".   Everything before that moment now seems like a dress rehearsal.  It was only in my full embracing of the temporary nature of my existence  that I found the full value of my life.
I could write a book on all the ways in which perspective, priorities, my life has changed since that day.  I won't do that.   I will   just make note of it here.  Everyone will understand eventually....even if only for a brief moment before their own death.   It is an incredible experience and it leads to an end of so much of what we run from and fear.

Yikes! I did it!

Off treatment for 3 days , back on treatment 3 days.........and sick again  :(
It's become abundantly clear to me that I must either give up treatment or give up my job.  I've gutted it out as long as I can.  The time has come.  Today I resigned from my job.  My last day of employment on will be Aug 18th.  The nausea and fatigue have at last overwhelmed me and forced my hand.  I'm choosing LIFE.  I'm choosing to continue the fight.  I don't have the energy to both fight and work, so I willl fight.
I came home today  and had a good cry on Bill's shoulder after turning in my resig.   I've loved my job and the tremendous satisfaction it's given me over the past dozen years.  I love my co-workers and will most certainly miss their company.   I also love my life and I know that I do not get sufficient rest for someone fighting a disease like cancer.
And at this moment my husband is happy as can be that I have FINALLY agreed to relax and take better care of myself.

The dust is beginning to settle on this  and I'm growing more and more confident that I've chosen right.  I'm exhausted!

Belly aches and Heart aches

It's been one of those bellyache days.  I've spent most of the day in my recliner reading, meditating, studying & thinking.  Physical movement turns ache to nausea, so here I sit.  It's not so bad.  It's just not how I planned on spending my day.
I've reached the midway point of my "online retreat"  with Pema Chodron.  I'm loving it.  I do wish that I could have spent this time with a bit more solitude.  My life is exactly what I've made it...busy!!  So, I am catching my quiet moments as I can.

My heart leaps with joy at the recent Supreme Court decision to allow our gay community the joy of marriage.  It's a time of celebration for all the members of the community as well as for people like myself who care passionately about human rights.  I wish you Peace, Love and Happiness my gay friends.

But there is heart ache as well.  I feel a stab of pain in my heart each time the opposition throws a spear at the gay community, out of their misguided sense of moral superiority. I hurt when I see the FB postings that are clearly so judgemental.   I cringe to think of the pain that is and has been laid upon the homosexual community because some can not resist the temptation to project their own self loathing  upon  an entire sector of our society.  Why???  What purpose has it served, other than to hurt people?  When has hurting other human beings ever been anything but wrong?   How is this justified in the twisted reasoning of the perpetrators?  What kind of selfishness demands happiness for themselves, yet denies it to others?

At the end of the day, however, I am encouraged.  We have made another leap forward in the area of human rights.  Those who have sought to oppress have suffered another defeat.
God Bless America

Carry Me

Carry me, Sweet Death
into the presence of all I have loved.

Carry me to the rural fields of my youth
that I might drink, one last time,
the aroma of the earth
And sense the wind on my soul.

Carry me, Sweet Death
To each lesson I've learned,
It's cost to my loved ones
and it's enduring value.

Carry me to the places
of my children's birth.
Let me hold their little hands
and know that it has  been good.

Carry me, Sweet Death,
to each place of Peace
discovered and cherished
and let me remember for Eternity

JPJOHNS 4/3/15

One day at a time

I am into my 2nd week on my new drug, Votrient.  I became Ill on the evening of day 4 with extreme nausea and a nagging sick headache.   The following day I woke up with the strangest pain.  Ribs 8 & 10 (which I fractured last year, were aching in an odd sort of way.  Additionally  my left shoulder, the sight of my first met 11 years ago, was also aching.   My right femur,  the 10 inch scar from my nephectomy, as well as a dull ache in my flank...all tender and/or aching.  Lastly my scalp, every inch of it felt  tender to the touch.   I have vowed not to resort to pain medication until absolutely  necessary.  On Tuesday morning I broke.  I asked my Oncologist for a pain med script.  It got me through  the night comfortably.  24 hours later most of the pain was gone.   Today, Thursday, I'm fighting a profound fatigue.  Pain is minimal  and nausea  is mild and brief.  I have not returned to work.  I plan to resume my work schedule next Monday.  
The above is the extent of my side effects so far.  I am in pretty good spirits.   I find myself now yearning for Spring.  I'm longing for some sunshine on my face and the golf course.  I'm feeling optimistic  for now, hopeful of a good response to the Votrient.  The side effects have been manageable.....more  so than the S.E.s of Nexavar.   I'm glad to have the nexavar part of my life behind me.  It was hard. This is all for now....taking it one day at a time,

About Mom and the ending of life

I recall the exact moment when Mom chose to stop fighting her debilitating disease.   There had been a big family reunion, more elaborate than previous years.   It was a wonderful success and most certainly the fulfillment of one of Mom's wishes.    As the last car pull away afterwards, I watched her close her eyes and drop her chin to her chest for a moment of reflection.  I sat quietly with her, careful not to disturb.   When she raised her head I saw something different in her eyes.  The fear and exhaustion I had grown accustomed to seeing over the past year was replaced with a look of resignation and peace.   Even though I understood perfectly well what it meant, I found it a relief.  That reunion was her good bye to her family.  It was a wonderful goodbye.  It made her happy.
The biggest surprise at this time is that my father understood as well.  I had never thought him to be particularly in tune with, or observant of Mom's emotional needs.  I have to say that he came through for her when it meant the most.   He redeemed himself in my eyes (and perhaps hers as well) in that moment of clarity when he understood.
Mom lived another 3 months after this day.  These were high quality months in terms of our relationship.  I learned things about her that I did not know about her.  I'm left to wonder if this was because she had become more willing to share her inner self or whether I had at last gained enough maturity to listen in a way that she needed me to listened.  That remains an unanswered question.  It was during these final months that I learned how deep Mom's faith in God was.  It was most certainly a comfort to her at the end of her life.  I find comfort in knowing that she was at peace as the end drew near for her.  I hope I can leave this life with the same degree of peace and dignity.

A bump in the road.

I suppose that an update is in order now that my scan results are complete.  Of greatest concern is a mass in my pelvic area, more specifically my psoas muscle.   My oncologist has also expressed concerned about growing lung nodules.  I'm questioning his accuracy on this, at the moment.
Obviously the Nexavar is not effective on muscle based tumors.  It's time for a new drug and a new approach. On Monday my new drug, Votrient will be available to me.   First dose will be bedtime Monday night.  The side affects appear to be quite similar to Nexavar.  Ill soon find out if that is the case for me.
Emotionally, I am doing reasonably ok.  It's another bump in the road, but I'm still full of fight.  I will battle the beast with as much enthusiasm as I have in the past.
Lastly I need to comment on the impact that cancer has had on my relationships.  In observing people's reactions to my illness, I have learned a lot about the quality of my relationships with them.  There is a fairly long list of individuals who messaged me after scans inquiring about results.   There are some who have yet to indicate any interest.  My kids rallied around me and lifted me up during the time of shock after receiving awful news.  There are others whom I counted on in the past who are conspicuously absent.  And it's fine.  I'm afraid I've been oh so guilty in the past of asking more of certain people than they really wished to give.  Somehow I have managed to grow enough personally that I'm no longer experiencing pain or disappointment over these things.  It is what it is and people are who they are.  I have come to accept the death of these relationships.  I am at peace.
As I am still reeling a wee bit, emotionally, this blog entry may reflect that some.  More later, after the dust settles.

The Lessons of Cancer

The human mind can make peace with anything, even the ending of one's life.  The initial terror at diagnosis fades to nothingness, replaced by a quiet, almost comforting acceptance of this fact of life.  It ends, for all of us.

Our material possession have NO value beyond their functional purpose during life.  A home has no value beyond it's function of shelter.  Time invested in acquiring a bigger, better whatever is time squandered. The only things of any value are the people we share are lives with, the joy and tears, the experiences of our lives and their lessons.  It is a fool who invests their time in acquiring more material items.  It is a fool who puffs out their chest in pride over these things. These things are meaningless.

There will be some who abandon you after diagnosis.  It's a reflection of their own fears and shortcomings.  Forgive them and move on.  They are no longer meant to have a place in your life.  Do not waste precious time mourning the loss them from your life.

Live today.  It is all there is.  Wake up each day determined to fill it with something of value.   My happiness and satisfaction in life increased tenfold after diagnosis because I learned the lesson of "today".  Wake up every day with an expectation of joy.  Joy comes easily when it's allowed.  It takes a simple leap of faith and a belief that life is about joy.

Everything we need for that last journey, the experience of death is already within us.  We need not go chasing after a new church, a more enlightened spiritual leader or some book that we believe may hold the answers to life's biggest mystery.  We hold it within us already.  The answers is ours if we have the courage to look.