Week 8 - Seasons Change

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Looks like I took a few weeks off of checking in here.

Week 8 of chemotherapy means ending the second full cycle of six. So, not a rookie anymore. But not yet a veteran. That time is approaching slowly but surely.

I can feel myself changing. Sometimes I can see it in the mirror too.

Body-wise, here's where I am:

  • Losing hair
  • Maintaining weight
  • Feel like I have the flu nearly all the time
  • Bad taste in mouth nearly all the time
  • Chemo fog - can't always think very well
  • Losing balance now and then - no serious falls yet
  • Rib pain, nearly constant, drugs help
  • Ahem, digestive issues
  • All in all, could be worse
Mentally, I'm here:
  • Taking my medicine
  • Following medical advice
  • Over it.
Seriously though, this one needs more of a write-up than a bullet list. Feel free to check out here - my body is still strong and to put it in a nutshell, I'm going to make it through this, I hate feeling pathetic, and there's not a lot anyone out there can do about this other than what you're already doing or what you've already done.

It's a matter of endurance, that's all. Well, excellent medical care and of course the love of those closest to me as well.

Autumn is changing to winter. With the heavy rains the salmon are no longer stuck in the lower rivers and streams, and are chugging towards their spawning beds in the cool, clear October-November waters all around us. Their bodies are ragged but they still have that insanely determined purpose. They will fight to the end to fulfill their destiny.

Do they want you to feel sorry for them? This will sound weird but I've looked into their eyes at this stage of their lives and I can tell you no, without question, they don't. Salmon are fierce. They don't care for or want your pity.

In terms of the salmon life-cycle I'm far from there. I'm more like still flashing through the coastal ocean, strong swishes of tail and fin, chasing that prey that has sustained me these many years. But I can also taste the flavor of home-stream rain, and know that my day will come.

My body is still in that 'turning from summer to autumn' but my mind is turning to winter. This isn't the first time in my life this mental dislocation has happened. I know how I will handle it.

I will center. I will remember the points in my life that were wonderful, meaningful, impactful. I will remember those other moments too, the ones where I couldn't begin to imagine how I would continue my walk. I will remember the tools and methods that helped me cope. I will practice them.

I will love at a very basic level. I will love myself too, feed myself body and spirit, nourish myself. I will draw my borders close and care about those things that are very near to me.

I will write, recreationally. I may write those books that have been percolating in me for so long. I may pour them onto the page like my favorite Cuban coffee, strong and hot and tinged with cinnamon. 

It appears that I will.

I will pull the paints out now and then and marvel at the colors I can splash and push about.

I probably won't share much progress. You may not see it happening very often. But believe me it's happening.

I will continue to work, half-time, long as I can. Probably got another good 5 years in me at that rate.

You probably will lose track of me a little. I'll apologize here and now.

I can't go on telling you how difficult this is. I don't like the taste of pathetic, most of all in me. If you've offered help, trust me, I have your name on a list. If I need that help, you'll hear from me.

If we've talked since the last post, you're inner circle, just keep being you. I love you dearly, more than you can imagine.

There will be a spring - light on the other side of this spiritual winter I feel approaching. We will enjoy that together, I promise. Colors will return. New leaves will unfurl, new buds will open, and we will marvel at them together.

But for now, pull the fuzzy blanket close, shut the windows tight. Time to brew some tea or maybe hot chocolate, and find that core, that center, that will give me the power to carry on.


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