As I mentioned in the last post, it has been a struggle in the last few weeks. I am battling fatigue due to returning to work. People see me return to work and assume I am fully healed. They do not realize the exhaustion that I face on a daily basis. This is only one component of my life that drains my energy. On top of this, I am still a mother who worries about her family. This worry also tires and drains me. Because I seem healthy enough to be able to work, the majority of the household chores are falling on my shoulders again. All these aspects combined with lots of family activity contribute to my fatigue. There have been some extenuating circumstances thrown into the mix. To be honest, some of these aspects of life create a feeling of anger within me. I believe the anger springs from other people's lack of understanding and expectations that I should just return to "normal" immediately. It's as if a switch should just be turned on and I'm completely better because the summer is over and I've returned to teaching my full load of music students.
The fatigue and exhaustion that I've been feeling have been a hurdle to trying to build my physical strength and stamina. I want to get back to walking daily and at a brisk walk. Unfortunately, I just don't have the energy. This adds to my frustration with my body. I have been feeling unhappy and dissatisfied. I decided to search the internet to see if there is any correlation between chemotherapy and the "blues". I was surprised and heartened to find the following link.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-2003214/Cancer-survivors-Depression-exhaustion-anger-downside-beating-disease.html
It is important to read this article completely as it provides a full understanding of what happens after the treatments are finished. Society, myself included, think that chemotherapy side effects are all physical. The thought is that as soon as the chemo regimine is finished, then the body can get on with healing. I found it interesting that the article indicated that anger and depression can show up even years later after the treatments are finished. I also found it interesting to read the statistics of the number of people who suffer a form of mental side effects much later.
When I started writing this blog, I indicated that I would write the blog until I was cured. I've been receiving some pressure from numerous people to shut the blog down because it is no longer relevant. Yes, I'm a lymphoma survivor. Everyone who knows me believes that I am "cured". The reality is I am in remission. The lymphoma could return at any time. I remember my oncologist telling me that the first 18 months are the most crucial. The odds of the lymphoma recurring are higher during that time. My last cycle of chemotherapy ended on May 19. This means that I am 5 months removed from treatment. I will not be deemed "cured" until 5 or 6 years from now. This blog has been a wonderful vehicle for me to be able to release my concerns, fears, worries and anxieties. This was the reason I started it and the reason that I am continuing it. Figuratively, it is like a steam pressure release valve. As the pressure within builds, I write in my blog and it acts like when the release valve is loosened and the steam pours out.
I have tried to be very sensitive to my family members and respect their feelings and privacy. However, as I've mentioned before, our lives all intersect and impact each other. I decided from the very beginning of my blog that I would share my experiences, thoughts and feelings whether they be raw and ugly or good and affirming. Unfortunately, being diagnosed, treated and surviving lymphoma along with coping with life struggles is a process which encompasses a wide range of emotions and reactions. I will continue to blog about my journey to being fully cured in 5 or 6 years. There most likely will continue to be both good and bad situations and emotions along the way. My hope is that someone else may one day read my blog and recognize they are not alone in their physical and emotional reactions to having lymphoma and going through the treatments for it.
Tuesday, 23 October 2012
Friday, 19 October 2012
A Buoy In The Sea of Life
It's been some time since I've been able to write a post. Life has been hectic due to the fact that I've had family visiting combined with the art of parenting teenagers and working. It's been difficult to get time to myself and I've realized that I really enjoy sitting quietly with no television, radio or computer providing background noise. The peace of silence is very precious to me. It helps calm my soul. I am reminded of the need to keep myself balanced by nurturing the physical, emotional and spiritual parts of me. I've not been doing this in the last month.and I find myself full of anxiety, frustration and unhappiness.
As I sit quietly and think about the last month, I visualize myself as a buoy that is anchored with a strong chain while the huge waves of life crash over me, heave me sideways and toss me up and down. My faith in God is that strong, iron link chain that holds me in place during the storms of life. I have to cling to my faith that I will be fine after the tempest of these trials. I pray that all my relationships will not just survive these tumultous times but also flourish over the long term. As I ponder the thought of a strong chain made up of thick, iron links, I am realizing that each link may also symbolize my cherished activities and "alone" time. One link in the chain may be my love of gardening. I've denied myself this activity over the last month because I felt the need to be with the family member that was visiting. I also wanted to avoid being told "You must slow down", and "Don't do so much". Another link in the chain may be my meditation time with "The Friendship Book" and "The Book of Awakening". Again, due to lack of time to myself and my own delay in replacing my "The Friendship Book", I've not been as consistent in reading the daily readings and taking time to contemplate them. I've not been tending my spiritual self. Due to this and the various challenges and crises in the last month, I truly have felt like I've been adrift. The chain is still attached to the buoy but the buoy has been bounced around much more because the links have not been checked and maintained. My faith is just as strong but it needs to be nurtured which means it needs to be fed and cared for.
At one point last week, I thought of how the lives of each individual family member impacts each other. When a member of the family is struggling with his/her own life issues, it affects everybody else in the home. When a mother is anxious about juggling her various roles as well as the well-being of her family, it affects the children, husband and even the pets in the home. As this week has unfolded, it has been very stressful for everyone in the home. On Tuesday, I managed to read "The Book of Awakening" by Mark Nepo and it really spoke to me. I'm going to quote the meditation exercise as I found it very illuminating and helpful.
"Sit quietly and bring to mind your disappointments of dream and love."
"Breathe gently, and try not to be brought too fully into your sadness."
"Instead, breathe deeply and try to see each, not as a failure, but as a shimmering bead on a necklace your life is making."
"Breath cleanly, and let these gems lead you to the next."
As I just re-read this, it has helped again. I have been struggling with trying to stay out of the dark hole of depression. It's been very difficult. I love the line "try not to be brought too fully into your sadness". It is healthy to acknowledge the sadness but not to dwell on it. The quote, "try to see each, not as a failure, but as a shimmering bead on a necklace your life is making", is the moment of true illumination for me. I see it like the sun beginning to peek out from behind the dark storm clouds. Each crisis, failure or struggle is like a pearl. It is dull and rough at the beginning but as it matures, it becomes a simple, glowing orb which is added to our appreciation of life.
My sadness at this time comes from how quickly my body still tires, my feelings of failure as a mother, my unhappiness with my body image, my concern about my relationship with my children and the underlying anxiety about a recurrence of my lymphoma. My strategies for coping with sadness (before it transforms into depression) are walking, gardening, reading, singing, playing music on the piano or on my flute and visiting with close friends. Unfortunately, I've been unable to do these things due to spending time with a visiting family member. I'm also still unable to sing as my voice is very tired after teaching. I haven't tried playing flute because there is still some pressure and sensitivity in the area of my neck where the tumour was. I don't want to aggravate it and I want it to fully heal before I try playing again. When I've tried to play the flute in the past few months, this area of the neck ends up with some swelling. It was good to visit with a friend yesterday and enjoy a good brisk walk at the same time. I was able to go for another brisk, long walk last night which seems to have helped my emotional well-being.
As I sit quietly and think about the last month, I visualize myself as a buoy that is anchored with a strong chain while the huge waves of life crash over me, heave me sideways and toss me up and down. My faith in God is that strong, iron link chain that holds me in place during the storms of life. I have to cling to my faith that I will be fine after the tempest of these trials. I pray that all my relationships will not just survive these tumultous times but also flourish over the long term. As I ponder the thought of a strong chain made up of thick, iron links, I am realizing that each link may also symbolize my cherished activities and "alone" time. One link in the chain may be my love of gardening. I've denied myself this activity over the last month because I felt the need to be with the family member that was visiting. I also wanted to avoid being told "You must slow down", and "Don't do so much". Another link in the chain may be my meditation time with "The Friendship Book" and "The Book of Awakening". Again, due to lack of time to myself and my own delay in replacing my "The Friendship Book", I've not been as consistent in reading the daily readings and taking time to contemplate them. I've not been tending my spiritual self. Due to this and the various challenges and crises in the last month, I truly have felt like I've been adrift. The chain is still attached to the buoy but the buoy has been bounced around much more because the links have not been checked and maintained. My faith is just as strong but it needs to be nurtured which means it needs to be fed and cared for.
At one point last week, I thought of how the lives of each individual family member impacts each other. When a member of the family is struggling with his/her own life issues, it affects everybody else in the home. When a mother is anxious about juggling her various roles as well as the well-being of her family, it affects the children, husband and even the pets in the home. As this week has unfolded, it has been very stressful for everyone in the home. On Tuesday, I managed to read "The Book of Awakening" by Mark Nepo and it really spoke to me. I'm going to quote the meditation exercise as I found it very illuminating and helpful.
"Sit quietly and bring to mind your disappointments of dream and love."
"Breathe gently, and try not to be brought too fully into your sadness."
"Instead, breathe deeply and try to see each, not as a failure, but as a shimmering bead on a necklace your life is making."
"Breath cleanly, and let these gems lead you to the next."
As I just re-read this, it has helped again. I have been struggling with trying to stay out of the dark hole of depression. It's been very difficult. I love the line "try not to be brought too fully into your sadness". It is healthy to acknowledge the sadness but not to dwell on it. The quote, "try to see each, not as a failure, but as a shimmering bead on a necklace your life is making", is the moment of true illumination for me. I see it like the sun beginning to peek out from behind the dark storm clouds. Each crisis, failure or struggle is like a pearl. It is dull and rough at the beginning but as it matures, it becomes a simple, glowing orb which is added to our appreciation of life.
My sadness at this time comes from how quickly my body still tires, my feelings of failure as a mother, my unhappiness with my body image, my concern about my relationship with my children and the underlying anxiety about a recurrence of my lymphoma. My strategies for coping with sadness (before it transforms into depression) are walking, gardening, reading, singing, playing music on the piano or on my flute and visiting with close friends. Unfortunately, I've been unable to do these things due to spending time with a visiting family member. I'm also still unable to sing as my voice is very tired after teaching. I haven't tried playing flute because there is still some pressure and sensitivity in the area of my neck where the tumour was. I don't want to aggravate it and I want it to fully heal before I try playing again. When I've tried to play the flute in the past few months, this area of the neck ends up with some swelling. It was good to visit with a friend yesterday and enjoy a good brisk walk at the same time. I was able to go for another brisk, long walk last night which seems to have helped my emotional well-being.
Monday, 8 October 2012
Thanksgiving
It's Thanksgiving Day today. I have so much to be thankful this year. First and foremost, I am alive and able to celebrate with my family.
I spent the weekend in Michigan watching my son play more baseball. The drive through Ontario and into Michigan was beautiful. The trees are changing colours and the views all along the highway reminded me of a patchwork quilt. The trees were a mix of greens, yellows, rust colours, dull oranges, bright oranges and briilliant reds. It was a cold weekend but I had packed lots of warm clothes and as a result was quite comfortable sitting at the ball fields watching the team play Fall baseball. The team had 3 losses and 1 win. My son was the starting pitcher and winning pitcher in the winning game. He pitched 4 innings and left the game with the score at 6-0. My son always has to be at the field one hour before game time. Yesterday we dropped him off at the field and went into the nearest town to get some gas and some grocery items. We discovered that the road the ball field was located on showed up on the main road into the village (this was not the way we had travelled to get there). So on our way back to the ball field, we turned onto this road. It ended up being an absolutely gorgeous drive. It was a narrow road that twisted and curved underneath mature maple trees. As we drove along, the trees arched overtop of road just like a rural painting. The colours were magnificent and it was a very peaceful setting.
The fall colours and the beautiful countryside brought up childhood memories of playing at my grandparents' farm during Thanksgiving weekends. It would be crisp and cold just like this past weekend and then we would go into the farm kitchen where the turkey would be roasting and the various pies (apple, pumpkin, strawberry/rhubarb, etc) would be warming. The memories of the warmth and the smell of the turkey, turnip, gravy and mashed potatoes are able to make my mouth water even today. I am so glad to be alive to experience the crisp coldness this past weekend but more importantly to make more memories with my family.
So although there are still challenges, worries and anxieties in life, I can celebrate that I am alive and that the lymphoma is in remission.
I spent the weekend in Michigan watching my son play more baseball. The drive through Ontario and into Michigan was beautiful. The trees are changing colours and the views all along the highway reminded me of a patchwork quilt. The trees were a mix of greens, yellows, rust colours, dull oranges, bright oranges and briilliant reds. It was a cold weekend but I had packed lots of warm clothes and as a result was quite comfortable sitting at the ball fields watching the team play Fall baseball. The team had 3 losses and 1 win. My son was the starting pitcher and winning pitcher in the winning game. He pitched 4 innings and left the game with the score at 6-0. My son always has to be at the field one hour before game time. Yesterday we dropped him off at the field and went into the nearest town to get some gas and some grocery items. We discovered that the road the ball field was located on showed up on the main road into the village (this was not the way we had travelled to get there). So on our way back to the ball field, we turned onto this road. It ended up being an absolutely gorgeous drive. It was a narrow road that twisted and curved underneath mature maple trees. As we drove along, the trees arched overtop of road just like a rural painting. The colours were magnificent and it was a very peaceful setting.
The fall colours and the beautiful countryside brought up childhood memories of playing at my grandparents' farm during Thanksgiving weekends. It would be crisp and cold just like this past weekend and then we would go into the farm kitchen where the turkey would be roasting and the various pies (apple, pumpkin, strawberry/rhubarb, etc) would be warming. The memories of the warmth and the smell of the turkey, turnip, gravy and mashed potatoes are able to make my mouth water even today. I am so glad to be alive to experience the crisp coldness this past weekend but more importantly to make more memories with my family.
So although there are still challenges, worries and anxieties in life, I can celebrate that I am alive and that the lymphoma is in remission.
Tuesday, 2 October 2012
I Refuse To Be a Victim to "Chemo Brain!!
It's been an emotional week in many ways. I've tried to be there for my daughter and comfort her as she has been in pain with a broken finger. I've tried to "mother" her and then respect her wishes to leave her alone. I've tried to keep her safe and provided a "walking partner" as she chose to walk through an industrial area in the dark in order to meet up with some friends. I've put up with her teenage attitude and tried to understand what it was like to be 14 as I've extended myself physically to my own detriment. I've been grieving in my own way the loss of a friend due to cancer. I've been praying for and grieving for a friend and her family as they continue to deal with the loss of her mother.
Some hurtful things have been said in the last few days and a lot of this comes from lack of world experience. My husband and I made a choice to try to limit the impact of the chemotherapy on our teenagers' lives. In hindsight, this may have been a mistake. I've been accused of wanting to make people feel sorry for me and playing the victim. I'm going to try to explain what life is currently like as I'm moving forward and getting back to living a "normal" life.
As stated in the blog in the last few weeks, I've returned to teaching privately and juggling my normal responsibilities. I'm enjoying this return to health and normalcy. The drawbacks and reality are I still tire easily and I'm struggling with some cognitive issues due to the very real and documented "chemo fog" or "chemo brain". I'm trying to live with this and move beyond this. In private moments at home with my husband, we discuss the memory issues because I need his help in remembering to do tasks and to recall conversations that I do not remember having. I've been accused of "playing up" the chemo brain just for sympathy.
The reality is that I have forgotten appointments but thank goodness someone else in the household has remembered them in time so that nobody has missed any appointments. Sometimes, I need my husband's help in order to compose a letter or memo because my brain hits a "wall" and I go completely blank and cannot finish the thought or come up with the appropriate words. At that point, I end up with a headache as well. I have conversations with people and I am often stopping in mid-sentence as I try to grasp the word that fits but I can't remember it. Yesterday (Sunday) I was cooking some bacon. When finished, I would normally leave the bacon grease to cool in the pan and then pour it into an old margarine container that I keep in the refrigerator then toss in the trash when it is full. Yesterday, my mind was not working or thinking correctly and I poured the hot grease into the plastic container. The thing is I know better!! And then I did the most idiotic thing and I picked up the melting plastic container to put it in the sink. The hot grease oozed out onto 2 of my fingers and I got burned. My husband witnessed all this and even recognized that this is not normal brain function for me.
I write this, not because I want sympathy and the "poor Cathy" thoughts but, because I'm trying to document what life is currently like as I move forward and continue to heal. Today, I taught a lesson and then had a break before the next onslaught of students. I realized I hadn't done my month end financial records for September and I was having to start my October records today. So I spent time working on my month end. I totally forgot about making supper! I used to tbe able to multi-task and juggle all these responsbilities in a timely and efficient manner. I have found that as I have returned to work, I am not able to multi-task like I once did. Is this because of "chemo brain" or "chemo fog" or is this because I'm tired and my brain is tired after concentrating on teaching. I don't know the answer. What I do know is that as I attempt to live life normally, I'm struggling with some cognitive changes. I refuse to be a victim but it hurts and makes it more difficult to move forward when verbal barbs are levelled at me.
I could choose to be a victim and dwell on all the hurts. I'm blogging about it tonight because it is helping me to process what's going on and my emotions to it all. The reality is that words hurt. I'm recognizing the pain I feel so that I can let go of it. If I don't recognize the pain it will continue to fester and hurt more. The words from the last few days have lingered and were interfering with my ability to rest and sleep. So I've dealt with them now. I'm putting them down to the fact that not everyone understands and when people don't understand, they make wrong assumptions and conclusions which then translate into hurtful words.
Perhaps this entry will help someone else who is suffering from "Chemo Fog" or "Chemo Brain" understand it is a real side effect. It is not something that is made up for sympathy. Hopefully the following link will also help people understand.
http://www.cancer.org/Treatment/TreatmentsandSideEffects/PhysicalSideEffects/ChemotherapyEffects/chemo-brain
I will continue to move forward and live each day to the fullest. I am very pleased that my ability to sing is slowly returning. I was able to sing in the choir for one anthem at my friend's mother's Celebration of Life on Saturday. I normally sing soprano but that is still currently out of my range. I was able to sing tenor. Unfortunately, it did tire my voice and I had to leave the reception afterwards because too many people wanted to talk with me and my voice was tiring very quickly. The good news is that the voice is coming back. It is still tired two days later but it is getting better. Yayy!!!!
Some hurtful things have been said in the last few days and a lot of this comes from lack of world experience. My husband and I made a choice to try to limit the impact of the chemotherapy on our teenagers' lives. In hindsight, this may have been a mistake. I've been accused of wanting to make people feel sorry for me and playing the victim. I'm going to try to explain what life is currently like as I'm moving forward and getting back to living a "normal" life.
As stated in the blog in the last few weeks, I've returned to teaching privately and juggling my normal responsibilities. I'm enjoying this return to health and normalcy. The drawbacks and reality are I still tire easily and I'm struggling with some cognitive issues due to the very real and documented "chemo fog" or "chemo brain". I'm trying to live with this and move beyond this. In private moments at home with my husband, we discuss the memory issues because I need his help in remembering to do tasks and to recall conversations that I do not remember having. I've been accused of "playing up" the chemo brain just for sympathy.
The reality is that I have forgotten appointments but thank goodness someone else in the household has remembered them in time so that nobody has missed any appointments. Sometimes, I need my husband's help in order to compose a letter or memo because my brain hits a "wall" and I go completely blank and cannot finish the thought or come up with the appropriate words. At that point, I end up with a headache as well. I have conversations with people and I am often stopping in mid-sentence as I try to grasp the word that fits but I can't remember it. Yesterday (Sunday) I was cooking some bacon. When finished, I would normally leave the bacon grease to cool in the pan and then pour it into an old margarine container that I keep in the refrigerator then toss in the trash when it is full. Yesterday, my mind was not working or thinking correctly and I poured the hot grease into the plastic container. The thing is I know better!! And then I did the most idiotic thing and I picked up the melting plastic container to put it in the sink. The hot grease oozed out onto 2 of my fingers and I got burned. My husband witnessed all this and even recognized that this is not normal brain function for me.
I write this, not because I want sympathy and the "poor Cathy" thoughts but, because I'm trying to document what life is currently like as I move forward and continue to heal. Today, I taught a lesson and then had a break before the next onslaught of students. I realized I hadn't done my month end financial records for September and I was having to start my October records today. So I spent time working on my month end. I totally forgot about making supper! I used to tbe able to multi-task and juggle all these responsbilities in a timely and efficient manner. I have found that as I have returned to work, I am not able to multi-task like I once did. Is this because of "chemo brain" or "chemo fog" or is this because I'm tired and my brain is tired after concentrating on teaching. I don't know the answer. What I do know is that as I attempt to live life normally, I'm struggling with some cognitive changes. I refuse to be a victim but it hurts and makes it more difficult to move forward when verbal barbs are levelled at me.
I could choose to be a victim and dwell on all the hurts. I'm blogging about it tonight because it is helping me to process what's going on and my emotions to it all. The reality is that words hurt. I'm recognizing the pain I feel so that I can let go of it. If I don't recognize the pain it will continue to fester and hurt more. The words from the last few days have lingered and were interfering with my ability to rest and sleep. So I've dealt with them now. I'm putting them down to the fact that not everyone understands and when people don't understand, they make wrong assumptions and conclusions which then translate into hurtful words.
Perhaps this entry will help someone else who is suffering from "Chemo Fog" or "Chemo Brain" understand it is a real side effect. It is not something that is made up for sympathy. Hopefully the following link will also help people understand.
http://www.cancer.org/Treatment/TreatmentsandSideEffects/PhysicalSideEffects/ChemotherapyEffects/chemo-brain
I will continue to move forward and live each day to the fullest. I am very pleased that my ability to sing is slowly returning. I was able to sing in the choir for one anthem at my friend's mother's Celebration of Life on Saturday. I normally sing soprano but that is still currently out of my range. I was able to sing tenor. Unfortunately, it did tire my voice and I had to leave the reception afterwards because too many people wanted to talk with me and my voice was tiring very quickly. The good news is that the voice is coming back. It is still tired two days later but it is getting better. Yayy!!!!
Wednesday, 26 September 2012
Juggling Life
Today was the funeral of my friend who passed away from cancer on Sunday. I was looking forward to going and celebrating her magnificent existence in this world. My plans were to attend the funeral and then go directly to teaching my students this afternoon. As I was vigorously brushing my teeth and almost ready to leave my home for the day, the telephone rang. With my mouth full of toothpaste, I answered the phone. It was my daughter calling from her school and my thoughts raced ahead to "what book did she forget and I have to find to deliver to her", "I'll bring her lunch to her", etc. All the thoughts that go with having a child in school. I hadn't anticipated her real reason for calling. "Mom, I was playing dodge ball in gym and the ball went off my finger. Can you pick me up from school?"
So I loaded the van up with my teaching supplies and went to pick up my daughter. The poor girl had tears running down her face when I got to the school. We went directly to the hospital and I resigned myself to missing my friend's funeral. She would totally understand as she cared so much for her children and then her grandchildren.
As we waited for my daughter to be looked at in Emergency, we were keeping an eye on the time because I also was expected to be at a local school to begin lessons in the afternoon. Eventually, a young resident doctor took a look at my daughter's finger and then we waited some more for her turn to have an x-ray taken. While waiting, the time slowly marched along and I had to make the call to cancel my lessons for the rest of the afternoon. I used to always agonize over cancelling lessons. If I didn't cancel lessons when my children were sick, I always felt my heart rending in two because I wanted to be with my children. At the same time, I also didn't want to disappoint my students and their parents. Today was the first time that I was totally secure in my decision. This has been one of my "changes" that I've thought about throughout the past several months. Life is too short and my children and family are too important for me to put other people ahead of them.
Finally my daughter had her x-ray taken and then we had to wait for it to be read by the doctor. Eventually he came to us in the waiting area and confirmed that her finger was broken. He allowed both my daughter and myself to see the x-ray and you could see that the finger was indeed broken. They put a splint on it which is like a half cast which is held on by a tensor bandage. She has been referred to a hand clinic just to make sure that she doesn't need a pin put in the finger to help it heal better. By the time we left the hospital, it was past mid-afternoon and we still hadn't had lunch. My daughter was still in pain but wanting a turkey sub for her late lunch.
So the day has been a "wash" as far as my plans and schedule were supposed to be today. However, on the other hand, my daughter and I have spent some much needed time together. I was able to comfort her and spoil her even though she was still a typical teenager. This has been the first time ever that I've been able to juggle and drastically change my plans for the day without feeling a great deal of anxiety and stress.
At one point while we were at the hospital, I was sure that I saw my friend, whose funeral I missed, walking briskly down the hallway. I know it wasn't her but it was someone who was the same height, had the same brisk walk, the same hair colour and the same hair style as my friend always wore before she had gone through chemotherapy. It certainly made me take a second look. I'm sad that I missed the funeral but I'm glad that I got into the palliative care hospital to visit her before she passed away. I'll have my memories to give me comfort.
So tonight, I'll be contacting the parents of the students that had their lessons cancelled today in order to explain my sudden absence. We'll work out the logistics and life will go on.
So I loaded the van up with my teaching supplies and went to pick up my daughter. The poor girl had tears running down her face when I got to the school. We went directly to the hospital and I resigned myself to missing my friend's funeral. She would totally understand as she cared so much for her children and then her grandchildren.
As we waited for my daughter to be looked at in Emergency, we were keeping an eye on the time because I also was expected to be at a local school to begin lessons in the afternoon. Eventually, a young resident doctor took a look at my daughter's finger and then we waited some more for her turn to have an x-ray taken. While waiting, the time slowly marched along and I had to make the call to cancel my lessons for the rest of the afternoon. I used to always agonize over cancelling lessons. If I didn't cancel lessons when my children were sick, I always felt my heart rending in two because I wanted to be with my children. At the same time, I also didn't want to disappoint my students and their parents. Today was the first time that I was totally secure in my decision. This has been one of my "changes" that I've thought about throughout the past several months. Life is too short and my children and family are too important for me to put other people ahead of them.
Finally my daughter had her x-ray taken and then we had to wait for it to be read by the doctor. Eventually he came to us in the waiting area and confirmed that her finger was broken. He allowed both my daughter and myself to see the x-ray and you could see that the finger was indeed broken. They put a splint on it which is like a half cast which is held on by a tensor bandage. She has been referred to a hand clinic just to make sure that she doesn't need a pin put in the finger to help it heal better. By the time we left the hospital, it was past mid-afternoon and we still hadn't had lunch. My daughter was still in pain but wanting a turkey sub for her late lunch.
So the day has been a "wash" as far as my plans and schedule were supposed to be today. However, on the other hand, my daughter and I have spent some much needed time together. I was able to comfort her and spoil her even though she was still a typical teenager. This has been the first time ever that I've been able to juggle and drastically change my plans for the day without feeling a great deal of anxiety and stress.
At one point while we were at the hospital, I was sure that I saw my friend, whose funeral I missed, walking briskly down the hallway. I know it wasn't her but it was someone who was the same height, had the same brisk walk, the same hair colour and the same hair style as my friend always wore before she had gone through chemotherapy. It certainly made me take a second look. I'm sad that I missed the funeral but I'm glad that I got into the palliative care hospital to visit her before she passed away. I'll have my memories to give me comfort.
So tonight, I'll be contacting the parents of the students that had their lessons cancelled today in order to explain my sudden absence. We'll work out the logistics and life will go on.
Monday, 24 September 2012
Life, Death and What Comes After
Yesterday morning I awoke feeling refreshed and full of vitality. It has been a while since I've been to church so I decided that today was a good day to go. I arrived and it was so nice to see my friends in the choir and in the congregation. I'm able to sing a little now but not very much and so I still sit in the congregation even though I'd like to be up in the choir. I enjoyed the service but was saddened to hear that an acquaintance is now in palliative care with another form of cancer. This disease seems to be everywhere. As a result, I just wanted to go home and be surrounded by my family.
As I was in the doorway of the sanctuary and ready to leave, the minister asked for everyone's attention and quiet. She had just received a phone call informing her that my friend, who was in her last days, had passed away at 9:30 a.m. My heart, already saddened and burdened, became very heavy and achy. Tears came unbidden to my eyes as I tried to control them. My friend had been in the twilight of her life but she was full of energy and vigour. Up until last Fall, she had been leading exercise classes. She had more energy than I did. I remember a time when the church had a talent show. Partway through the program, she got up and led everyone in some short, easy exercises just to keep us all from sitting too long watching the performances. I will always remember her telling us all that when we watch television or movies on television, every time there is a commercial, get up and do some lunges or gentle stretches. She always arrived at choir practice with her Timmies and if you got to church earlier enough on a Sunday morning, you would see her with her Timmies. She was a caring woman who was interested in everything and everybody around her. She cared for her daughter as she was diagnosed with ALS disease and she cared for her right through to the end. This was such a sad time and I remember thinking what a strong woman my friend was. She asked me to sing "On Eagles' Wings" at her daughter's funeral. She became such a rock for her granddaughters after that. My friend always was dressed so nicely with her hair just so. She always had different hand bags that were always so nice. I remember her having a bright purple one and then a bronze coloured one. I will always remember her laugh. She was always so interested in my children and how they were coping with growing up. As they hit the teenage years, my friend was a source of wisdom, experience and guidance. Even when I saw her last week (a week before she died!), she was asking about how my daughter and son were doing. She always wondered about their well-being at school and socially.
Yesterday, I struggled with my grief. Then tonight (as it is in the middle of the night here as I write this), I awoke thinking of a book I had read this summer called "Heaven Is For Real". In it, a 3 year old boy has a near death experience while being operated on for a ruptured appendix. He meets Jesus who is sitting at the right side of God. He also gets to meet his grandfather for the first time. This little boy also meets his big sister who was miscarried part way through the pregnancy. I awoke and I envisioned my friend making her transition from the hospital to seeing God and Jesus face-to-face. I also envisioned her seeing her husband and then being reunited with her daughter who she missed so much since she died. This has brought me comfort. She is/was the type of person that she would want us to grasp our lives fully and live them with interest and vigour. I'll miss her vitality. I'll miss her laugh. I'll miss her brightness. I'm praying for her best friend who is another friend of mine. They were like sisters and did so much together. At choir practice, I would hear them talking about shopping together, meeting for tea together, having meals together or just spending an evening together watching a movie. It's so hard on those left behind when a life ends here.
As I see friends and acquaintances getting diagnosed with cancer and fighting valiantly to survive, I sometimes feel sad and confused. Why did I get the one with the better cure rate? Why did they get the diagnosis without much hope? I don't know the answers to these but I'm starting to learn to feel thankful and a real sense of the grace of God. I have been given a second chance at life and I will continue to live it to the fullest. As I mentioned in my last post, I'm also learning that living life to the fullest means experiencing the emotional highs and lows as well. I will have a full week as I have my teaching in the first part of the week and I also have a Celebration of Life in memory of my very good friend's mother who died in August. I am a firm believer that memories are a great comfort to us when our family and friends pass on.
As I was in the doorway of the sanctuary and ready to leave, the minister asked for everyone's attention and quiet. She had just received a phone call informing her that my friend, who was in her last days, had passed away at 9:30 a.m. My heart, already saddened and burdened, became very heavy and achy. Tears came unbidden to my eyes as I tried to control them. My friend had been in the twilight of her life but she was full of energy and vigour. Up until last Fall, she had been leading exercise classes. She had more energy than I did. I remember a time when the church had a talent show. Partway through the program, she got up and led everyone in some short, easy exercises just to keep us all from sitting too long watching the performances. I will always remember her telling us all that when we watch television or movies on television, every time there is a commercial, get up and do some lunges or gentle stretches. She always arrived at choir practice with her Timmies and if you got to church earlier enough on a Sunday morning, you would see her with her Timmies. She was a caring woman who was interested in everything and everybody around her. She cared for her daughter as she was diagnosed with ALS disease and she cared for her right through to the end. This was such a sad time and I remember thinking what a strong woman my friend was. She asked me to sing "On Eagles' Wings" at her daughter's funeral. She became such a rock for her granddaughters after that. My friend always was dressed so nicely with her hair just so. She always had different hand bags that were always so nice. I remember her having a bright purple one and then a bronze coloured one. I will always remember her laugh. She was always so interested in my children and how they were coping with growing up. As they hit the teenage years, my friend was a source of wisdom, experience and guidance. Even when I saw her last week (a week before she died!), she was asking about how my daughter and son were doing. She always wondered about their well-being at school and socially.
Yesterday, I struggled with my grief. Then tonight (as it is in the middle of the night here as I write this), I awoke thinking of a book I had read this summer called "Heaven Is For Real". In it, a 3 year old boy has a near death experience while being operated on for a ruptured appendix. He meets Jesus who is sitting at the right side of God. He also gets to meet his grandfather for the first time. This little boy also meets his big sister who was miscarried part way through the pregnancy. I awoke and I envisioned my friend making her transition from the hospital to seeing God and Jesus face-to-face. I also envisioned her seeing her husband and then being reunited with her daughter who she missed so much since she died. This has brought me comfort. She is/was the type of person that she would want us to grasp our lives fully and live them with interest and vigour. I'll miss her vitality. I'll miss her laugh. I'll miss her brightness. I'm praying for her best friend who is another friend of mine. They were like sisters and did so much together. At choir practice, I would hear them talking about shopping together, meeting for tea together, having meals together or just spending an evening together watching a movie. It's so hard on those left behind when a life ends here.
As I see friends and acquaintances getting diagnosed with cancer and fighting valiantly to survive, I sometimes feel sad and confused. Why did I get the one with the better cure rate? Why did they get the diagnosis without much hope? I don't know the answers to these but I'm starting to learn to feel thankful and a real sense of the grace of God. I have been given a second chance at life and I will continue to live it to the fullest. As I mentioned in my last post, I'm also learning that living life to the fullest means experiencing the emotional highs and lows as well. I will have a full week as I have my teaching in the first part of the week and I also have a Celebration of Life in memory of my very good friend's mother who died in August. I am a firm believer that memories are a great comfort to us when our family and friends pass on.
Saturday, 22 September 2012
Living and Enjoying Life
As a friend commented the other day, it is time to "get on with LIVING and enjoying life". So last night, my father-in-law and I watched my husband play 3 Pitch in his season ending playoff tournament. My son normally plays on this team as well, but last night he was working. When we arrived the umpire that was working the current game saw me and gave a little wave. After that game was finished, he came up to me sitting in the bleachers and mentioned that I'm looking so much more healthy and I didn't look tired at all. The last time he saw me was in late June.
I enjoyed watching the game. I was nice and toasty warm as I was dressed in warm layers and had a wool blanket wrapped around my knees. We cheered them on but unfortunately, my husband's team lost. I used to play for this team in the summer of 2011 and so I know a number of the players and really get into the game and cheering for them. My husband even hit an over the fence home run. I decided to get my exercise last night by retrieving the balls that were hit over the fences for home runs. It felt good to be able to go for a brisk walk as well as to throw the ball back onto the field in the next stoppage in play. I could tell that I haven't thrown a ball in over a year because my aim was off. I miss playing. We all returned home and while my husband enjoyed his after game beers, my father-in-law and I enjoyed a specialty coffee which included Bailey's Irish Cream, Glayva and Glenlivet scotch.
This morning I enjoyed some quiet time as I read "The Book of Awakening" and the newspaper before anyone else was awake and moving around. Once everyone else was up, I managed to complete 3 loads of laundry before my husband and my son were playing ball at 1:30. The tournament was slightly delayed due to the heavy rains that pelted the region during the night and early morning. However, the day cleared up and the games were able to be played. In order to keep our seats dry from the wet bleachers, my father-in-law and I sat on 2 thick afghans and then wrapped our legs in the wool blanket again. We settled in to watch the game. We brought our digital camera as this could be the last time my husband and son play ball together and we wanted to get some pictures of them both on the field. The tournament was a double knock-out format. I took some pictures and was very pleased with how they turned out. In one picture, my son was pitching and my husband was standing on second base and ready to run to third base. We saw my son make a diving catch in centre field. It was spectacular as we saw him make a head first dive and all you saw was the spray of water as he slid through the puddle in the grass. It reminded me of when he was little and used to play on the kids' toy "The Banana Water Slide". As he slid through the grass and mud, he held his glove hand up to show the umpire that the ball was in his glove. As my son got up off the ground, I could hear him say "That's slightly wet." His whole right side was mud from his ankle up to his shoulder. My son also hit a bomb of a home run. The team won this game and then had to play again at 4:30.
We went home between games so that I could run the ball uniforms through a quick wash and get them dried. At the same time, I was trying to dry out my son's running shoes with the hair dryer. This was too slow a process so I came up with the bright idea of putting his shoes and my husband's shoes in old pillowcases and tying them shut. I threw them into the dryer with the clean clothes in an effort to get the dirty shoes dry. It didn't quite work as we ran out of time but at least the shoes weren't as soaking wet as they had been. Back to the ball field we went and my father-in-law and I again got ourselves ensconced up on the bleachers with our afghans and blankets. We settled in and watched the game. Unfortunately, they lost this game which meant they were knocked out of the tournament. Secretly and selfishly, I was glad because I was getting very tired and cold. I didn't want to miss watching them play ball side by side, but I must admit that I need my weekends to be a little slower paced so that I can recuperate from teaching. My stamina just doesn't seem to be ready to go full tilt. This is too bad because my mind is wanting and willing to live every single moment to the absolute fullest. I want to wring the most out of life that I can. My body just isn't quite ready to cooperate.
I'm very tired tonight and struggling with a bit of a headache. I have noticed that I struggled to do the sudoku puzzles this past week. I used to be able to complete most of the ones that are in the daily newspaper. Maybe I'm having less success with them lately because I've started teaching again. Perhaps my mind is more tired than I think it is. I also found out tonight that my friend, that I visited last week who is in palliative care, is in her last days. I had hoped to get in to see her a couple of days ago, but our van had been in the shop getting the brakes fixed. I didn't make it to the hospital. I guess she really became much more frail in the last week. As I've received this news, I am full of anger and sadness. As I've said before in the blog, cancer is a horrible disease! It isn't fair that there are "cures" for some and not others. This is a disease that has been around for much too long!!! I know that there are strides being made in research for some of the cancers. I know that early detection is key in the cure rates. It is very disheartening to know that while I am in remission and the probability of a full cure is high, my friend is not so fortunate. My heart is aching for her. I've been praying for her as I know others have been praying for her. My understanding is that my friend has continued to be positive as she faces these last days. As another friend said "What a wonderful woman!" I guess I've been praying for a miracle that's not going to happen. Maybe my prayers now need to shift to God keeping my friend cradled in His/Her hand and keeping my friend comfortable and at peace.
In a week's time, I have a Celebration of Life to attend. The church choir I used to sing in (and will sing in again) is singing Psalm 23 at the service. I'm going to try to sing in the choir. I tried singing the soprano part (the part I normally sing) but my voice isn't ready to do this. However, this morning I was able to sing the tenor part comfortably as long as I sang it softly. I may not be a "leader" in the choir this time, but I will be a body and a soft voice.
As this post seems to indicate, living life to the fullest doesn't always mean having fun times and memories but it also means feeling life fully both the good and the sad.
I enjoyed watching the game. I was nice and toasty warm as I was dressed in warm layers and had a wool blanket wrapped around my knees. We cheered them on but unfortunately, my husband's team lost. I used to play for this team in the summer of 2011 and so I know a number of the players and really get into the game and cheering for them. My husband even hit an over the fence home run. I decided to get my exercise last night by retrieving the balls that were hit over the fences for home runs. It felt good to be able to go for a brisk walk as well as to throw the ball back onto the field in the next stoppage in play. I could tell that I haven't thrown a ball in over a year because my aim was off. I miss playing. We all returned home and while my husband enjoyed his after game beers, my father-in-law and I enjoyed a specialty coffee which included Bailey's Irish Cream, Glayva and Glenlivet scotch.
This morning I enjoyed some quiet time as I read "The Book of Awakening" and the newspaper before anyone else was awake and moving around. Once everyone else was up, I managed to complete 3 loads of laundry before my husband and my son were playing ball at 1:30. The tournament was slightly delayed due to the heavy rains that pelted the region during the night and early morning. However, the day cleared up and the games were able to be played. In order to keep our seats dry from the wet bleachers, my father-in-law and I sat on 2 thick afghans and then wrapped our legs in the wool blanket again. We settled in to watch the game. We brought our digital camera as this could be the last time my husband and son play ball together and we wanted to get some pictures of them both on the field. The tournament was a double knock-out format. I took some pictures and was very pleased with how they turned out. In one picture, my son was pitching and my husband was standing on second base and ready to run to third base. We saw my son make a diving catch in centre field. It was spectacular as we saw him make a head first dive and all you saw was the spray of water as he slid through the puddle in the grass. It reminded me of when he was little and used to play on the kids' toy "The Banana Water Slide". As he slid through the grass and mud, he held his glove hand up to show the umpire that the ball was in his glove. As my son got up off the ground, I could hear him say "That's slightly wet." His whole right side was mud from his ankle up to his shoulder. My son also hit a bomb of a home run. The team won this game and then had to play again at 4:30.
We went home between games so that I could run the ball uniforms through a quick wash and get them dried. At the same time, I was trying to dry out my son's running shoes with the hair dryer. This was too slow a process so I came up with the bright idea of putting his shoes and my husband's shoes in old pillowcases and tying them shut. I threw them into the dryer with the clean clothes in an effort to get the dirty shoes dry. It didn't quite work as we ran out of time but at least the shoes weren't as soaking wet as they had been. Back to the ball field we went and my father-in-law and I again got ourselves ensconced up on the bleachers with our afghans and blankets. We settled in and watched the game. Unfortunately, they lost this game which meant they were knocked out of the tournament. Secretly and selfishly, I was glad because I was getting very tired and cold. I didn't want to miss watching them play ball side by side, but I must admit that I need my weekends to be a little slower paced so that I can recuperate from teaching. My stamina just doesn't seem to be ready to go full tilt. This is too bad because my mind is wanting and willing to live every single moment to the absolute fullest. I want to wring the most out of life that I can. My body just isn't quite ready to cooperate.
I'm very tired tonight and struggling with a bit of a headache. I have noticed that I struggled to do the sudoku puzzles this past week. I used to be able to complete most of the ones that are in the daily newspaper. Maybe I'm having less success with them lately because I've started teaching again. Perhaps my mind is more tired than I think it is. I also found out tonight that my friend, that I visited last week who is in palliative care, is in her last days. I had hoped to get in to see her a couple of days ago, but our van had been in the shop getting the brakes fixed. I didn't make it to the hospital. I guess she really became much more frail in the last week. As I've received this news, I am full of anger and sadness. As I've said before in the blog, cancer is a horrible disease! It isn't fair that there are "cures" for some and not others. This is a disease that has been around for much too long!!! I know that there are strides being made in research for some of the cancers. I know that early detection is key in the cure rates. It is very disheartening to know that while I am in remission and the probability of a full cure is high, my friend is not so fortunate. My heart is aching for her. I've been praying for her as I know others have been praying for her. My understanding is that my friend has continued to be positive as she faces these last days. As another friend said "What a wonderful woman!" I guess I've been praying for a miracle that's not going to happen. Maybe my prayers now need to shift to God keeping my friend cradled in His/Her hand and keeping my friend comfortable and at peace.
In a week's time, I have a Celebration of Life to attend. The church choir I used to sing in (and will sing in again) is singing Psalm 23 at the service. I'm going to try to sing in the choir. I tried singing the soprano part (the part I normally sing) but my voice isn't ready to do this. However, this morning I was able to sing the tenor part comfortably as long as I sang it softly. I may not be a "leader" in the choir this time, but I will be a body and a soft voice.
As this post seems to indicate, living life to the fullest doesn't always mean having fun times and memories but it also means feeling life fully both the good and the sad.
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