Thursday, November 25, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Wednesday morning
Ella and I went to the park this morning. A chilly and fierce wind was blowing; kind of eerie.
My daughter called the other day; she has been offered a job in Haiti with S.O.I.L. She intends to accept and go to Haiti in January. She's informed them about her application to UC Santa Cruz (although she recognizes that if UCSC does accept her for the 6-month program that starts in April, she still has to find a way to get the money to attend). At any rate, it sounds like S.O.I.L. would let her go attend the program and, I guess, come back afterwards. She just posted this link on Facebook which I - taking a clue from the article title - read and decided to share here:
http://dyinginhaiti.blogspot.com/2010/11/if-you-dont-read-anything-else-about.html?spref=fb
As I prepare to roast a free-range turkey for David, his brother and myself, along with sweet potatoes, acorn squash, stuffing, apple cobbler, David's delicious cranberry walnut bread - my thoughts are with those in Haiti, waiting for foreign and local bureaucrats to address their life-and-death struggle with cholera, to provide simple IV fluids that would save 80% of those affected. I know for what I am thankful - I have had a good year, with a good job and health insurance, a great team of oncologists, loving family, supportive friends, and together beat back the beast, Cancer. My children are healthy. My son working, my daughter-in-law providing the center that holds, my grandson growing, thriving. My daughter finding her own path and commitment to repairing the world. My brother well, my cousin C recovered from an almost fatal accident, my aunt feisty as ever, my cousin D hanging in there, her brother D, supporting his lovely big family. All their children well. For what should those dying of an all-too-curable disease in Haiti be thankful for this year?
Ah... peace and justice... The sun shines down on all, but suffering still lays a dark shadow on those who least can bear it. Why? For how long? I can only ask, what can I do?
My daughter called the other day; she has been offered a job in Haiti with S.O.I.L. She intends to accept and go to Haiti in January. She's informed them about her application to UC Santa Cruz (although she recognizes that if UCSC does accept her for the 6-month program that starts in April, she still has to find a way to get the money to attend). At any rate, it sounds like S.O.I.L. would let her go attend the program and, I guess, come back afterwards. She just posted this link on Facebook which I - taking a clue from the article title - read and decided to share here:
http://dyinginhaiti.blogspot.com/2010/11/if-you-dont-read-anything-else-about.html?spref=fb
As I prepare to roast a free-range turkey for David, his brother and myself, along with sweet potatoes, acorn squash, stuffing, apple cobbler, David's delicious cranberry walnut bread - my thoughts are with those in Haiti, waiting for foreign and local bureaucrats to address their life-and-death struggle with cholera, to provide simple IV fluids that would save 80% of those affected. I know for what I am thankful - I have had a good year, with a good job and health insurance, a great team of oncologists, loving family, supportive friends, and together beat back the beast, Cancer. My children are healthy. My son working, my daughter-in-law providing the center that holds, my grandson growing, thriving. My daughter finding her own path and commitment to repairing the world. My brother well, my cousin C recovered from an almost fatal accident, my aunt feisty as ever, my cousin D hanging in there, her brother D, supporting his lovely big family. All their children well. For what should those dying of an all-too-curable disease in Haiti be thankful for this year?
Ah... peace and justice... The sun shines down on all, but suffering still lays a dark shadow on those who least can bear it. Why? For how long? I can only ask, what can I do?
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Saturday morning
I went back to the park today, first time since I went back alone after Jessie died. Today I had our foster dog, Ella, with me. It was good to be back. It was strange to be there with a dog other than Jessie, but still good to greet the creatures. Today the creatures that appeared were limited to ducks - many of them - squirrels - more of them - and at some point, a big gaggle of Canada geese. Literally dozens of them, pushing the Mallards out of their preferred spot close to the shore of the north (big) side of the pond to hog it for themselves (if a goose can be said to 'hog' something). Ella seemed to enjoy being at the park, especially the squirrels.
Ella is a very different dog than Jessie, not just physically - she is a mix of perhaps German Shepherd dog and definitely Greyhound - but personality wise. She is sweet, and more expressively affectionate than Jessie (a grand sign of emotion from Jessie was to push her nose into your arm and possibly, if you were VERY lucky, to lick your hand one time). Ella is capable of sprawling out on the bed or floor, or curling on the couch and vegging out (if a dog can "veg out'), but she is lively when we go outside. She's learning to walk on a leash, but still tends to dance on it a bit. She's mad for squirrels. I can tell Ella has "sight hound" in her (versus "scent hound"). Of course she sniffs around a little as we walk, but not as much as Jessie or other dogs I've known. Instead she is incredibly focused in watching everything around her. She will stare upwards, at the sky, when a flock of crows go overhead. The other night she stared at the moon, which was nearly full, gleaming in the night sky.
News on other fronts - today is the start of a week's vacation for me. Thanksgiving and the day after are holidays at my job, so I took Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday off as well. No real plans - except to relax, get to know Ella better, perhaps straighten up the house a little. My oncologist, Dr. M's office called and postponed my November 30 appointment to December 20th. That felt weird - gave rise to a feeling of slight insecurity, as if to stay healthy I needed to see him sooner rather than later. But of course, if he is comfortable that I can wait 3 weeks, I can wait three weeks. So I'll see him 12/20 and then Dr. R in late January at which time I'll make the appointment for the next CT scan, likely in April (which will be 1 year since finishing the chemo/radiation/chemo treatments). I still wonder how cancer survivors measure their survivorship - from their diagnosis (in which case I am One Year out) or from the end of their treatment, which would be April for me. From diagnosis seems to make sense because, in fact, I HAVE survived for one year since my diagnosis. In some ways, it seems much longer; in other ways, the year has flown by. As Thanksgiving approaches, I recall last year's holiday, when I had just started chemo, and I think it was the Friday after Thanksgiving that I went and had my hair shaved off. Now my head is full of curls - chemo curls. When people compliment my hair, I tell them they too can have such curls, all it takes is a few months of chemotherapy! Actually I like my curly hair - I am just trying not to become invested or attached to it, since I understand the effects of chemo on hair often are not permanent.
In the world, madness. Cholera in Haiti. Cholera! Unbelievable. My daughter is planning to go back to Haiti next year, again to volunteer with S.O.I.L. (http://www.oursoil.org/). Perhaps some day I'll be able to go with her. She designed their new 2011 calendar for them - available at the foregoing website. It's a great organization and I encourage all to support it (of course, I'm buying a bunch of the calendars and so some of you may get one from me as a holiday present!)
Then there are the mid-term election results. A pox on all their houses. If government's acts (and omissions) didn't cause and increase real world suffering, I would say the next 2 years might be "fun," in the sense of watching a deadly poisonous snake eat itself tail first.
Being in the park today reminded me that life persists, even when the world seems to turn dark, when tree limbs are bare, and grass and leaves brown and decay, and the air is chill, life hunkers down and reserves itself, and waits patiently for its time to come again, to push out and strive. This is the way of nature, and are we not creatures of nature? Can we learn to be patient, to hunker down when we must but still to have hope, reserve our strength and find our own time, and then stir, rise and strive?
Peace and kindness.
Ella is a very different dog than Jessie, not just physically - she is a mix of perhaps German Shepherd dog and definitely Greyhound - but personality wise. She is sweet, and more expressively affectionate than Jessie (a grand sign of emotion from Jessie was to push her nose into your arm and possibly, if you were VERY lucky, to lick your hand one time). Ella is capable of sprawling out on the bed or floor, or curling on the couch and vegging out (if a dog can "veg out'), but she is lively when we go outside. She's learning to walk on a leash, but still tends to dance on it a bit. She's mad for squirrels. I can tell Ella has "sight hound" in her (versus "scent hound"). Of course she sniffs around a little as we walk, but not as much as Jessie or other dogs I've known. Instead she is incredibly focused in watching everything around her. She will stare upwards, at the sky, when a flock of crows go overhead. The other night she stared at the moon, which was nearly full, gleaming in the night sky.
News on other fronts - today is the start of a week's vacation for me. Thanksgiving and the day after are holidays at my job, so I took Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday off as well. No real plans - except to relax, get to know Ella better, perhaps straighten up the house a little. My oncologist, Dr. M's office called and postponed my November 30 appointment to December 20th. That felt weird - gave rise to a feeling of slight insecurity, as if to stay healthy I needed to see him sooner rather than later. But of course, if he is comfortable that I can wait 3 weeks, I can wait three weeks. So I'll see him 12/20 and then Dr. R in late January at which time I'll make the appointment for the next CT scan, likely in April (which will be 1 year since finishing the chemo/radiation/chemo treatments). I still wonder how cancer survivors measure their survivorship - from their diagnosis (in which case I am One Year out) or from the end of their treatment, which would be April for me. From diagnosis seems to make sense because, in fact, I HAVE survived for one year since my diagnosis. In some ways, it seems much longer; in other ways, the year has flown by. As Thanksgiving approaches, I recall last year's holiday, when I had just started chemo, and I think it was the Friday after Thanksgiving that I went and had my hair shaved off. Now my head is full of curls - chemo curls. When people compliment my hair, I tell them they too can have such curls, all it takes is a few months of chemotherapy! Actually I like my curly hair - I am just trying not to become invested or attached to it, since I understand the effects of chemo on hair often are not permanent.
In the world, madness. Cholera in Haiti. Cholera! Unbelievable. My daughter is planning to go back to Haiti next year, again to volunteer with S.O.I.L. (http://www.oursoil.org/). Perhaps some day I'll be able to go with her. She designed their new 2011 calendar for them - available at the foregoing website. It's a great organization and I encourage all to support it (of course, I'm buying a bunch of the calendars and so some of you may get one from me as a holiday present!)
Then there are the mid-term election results. A pox on all their houses. If government's acts (and omissions) didn't cause and increase real world suffering, I would say the next 2 years might be "fun," in the sense of watching a deadly poisonous snake eat itself tail first.
Being in the park today reminded me that life persists, even when the world seems to turn dark, when tree limbs are bare, and grass and leaves brown and decay, and the air is chill, life hunkers down and reserves itself, and waits patiently for its time to come again, to push out and strive. This is the way of nature, and are we not creatures of nature? Can we learn to be patient, to hunker down when we must but still to have hope, reserve our strength and find our own time, and then stir, rise and strive?
Peace and kindness.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Thursday evening
Another mammogram out of the way. Results fine. Bone scan apparently indicates I have whatever the preliminary to osteoporosis is, so I guess I do need to try to take calcium and vitamin D. At any rate, these are issues that are much easier to deal with than those I faced at this time last year. I realized the other day that I had reached a one year anniversary of the first chemo. I remember how petrified I was. Recalling those feelings in turn recalls all the love, support, compassion and kindness of so many friends and family members that supported me - without each of you I would not have made it through those first dark difficult days, and all the others that followed. I am a lucky human being.
On another front, a strange development. David and I have been missing Jessie so much, herself specifically, and as a representative of all loyal, loving dog friends who make themselves so "present" in the lives they are called on to share. And without any real intention of taking any action, I began a few days ago looking on line at dogs available for adoption in CT. (That's how I first found Jessie - on line under the heading "Urgent!".) And one little dog face struck me some how. A day or so later I sent an email to the contact for this dog, just asking how old the dog was with no intention of anything further. Turns out this dog - who is now called Ella - has a deep story. She is about a year old, some sort of shepherd-mix, tan, a big girl but not huge. She was rescued by an organization called Connecticut Underhound Railroad (I kid you not) from a shelter in Missouri where she was to be killed within a day or so, or even hours. Someone there contacted this organization in CT (as well as dozens of other rescue organizations around the country). Even though the organization here had never rescued any dog from the midwest (they work with "high kill" shelters in the South), something about this particular dog struck the woman who received the email. And one thing led to another. The woman here committed to the volunteer in Missouri to figuring out how to get the dog from Missouri to Maine (where the woman lives). The woman in Missouri arranged to board the dog somewhere in Missouri in the meantime. It took a month or more for the woman here to arrange transportation to bring the dog to Maine (where the woman lives) and a little longer to find a place in Maine to "foster" the dog - a "doggie day care center." Then the organization posted Ella's picture on line as available for adoption, a few weeks ago, I think. And this week, I saw it.
Now David and I may meet Ella this weekend - if arrangements to bring her from Maine can be worked out - and "foster" her for a week or so to see if she likes us and we like her and even might want to adopt her long term. In a way it seems too soon after losing Jessie. In another way, it feels like something that just is supposed to be happening. Even if we decide this is not the dog for us long term, perhaps we will keep her as a "foster" dog for a while. I have to think, that Jessie would approve of us helping another dog in any way, short or long term.
So very many dogs, treated like disposable toys, discarded for any or no reason than convenience. Of course in a world in which human beings treat other human beings - even children - as disposable, how can I be surprised that some would treat "mere" creatures the same and worse. Perhaps one day dogs will evolve (while we humans are still yelling at each other on MSNBC and Fox News) and learn to speak for themselves and rise up, seek justice. They can only improve this world, and I for one will be happy to hand it over to them, to the loyalty, commitment and love they embody every day. Perhaps if I learn to evolve some more myself, one of them will consider me to be "adoptable."
Peace. Kindness and compassion to all creatures, including little Ella.
On another front, a strange development. David and I have been missing Jessie so much, herself specifically, and as a representative of all loyal, loving dog friends who make themselves so "present" in the lives they are called on to share. And without any real intention of taking any action, I began a few days ago looking on line at dogs available for adoption in CT. (That's how I first found Jessie - on line under the heading "Urgent!".) And one little dog face struck me some how. A day or so later I sent an email to the contact for this dog, just asking how old the dog was with no intention of anything further. Turns out this dog - who is now called Ella - has a deep story. She is about a year old, some sort of shepherd-mix, tan, a big girl but not huge. She was rescued by an organization called Connecticut Underhound Railroad (I kid you not) from a shelter in Missouri where she was to be killed within a day or so, or even hours. Someone there contacted this organization in CT (as well as dozens of other rescue organizations around the country). Even though the organization here had never rescued any dog from the midwest (they work with "high kill" shelters in the South), something about this particular dog struck the woman who received the email. And one thing led to another. The woman here committed to the volunteer in Missouri to figuring out how to get the dog from Missouri to Maine (where the woman lives). The woman in Missouri arranged to board the dog somewhere in Missouri in the meantime. It took a month or more for the woman here to arrange transportation to bring the dog to Maine (where the woman lives) and a little longer to find a place in Maine to "foster" the dog - a "doggie day care center." Then the organization posted Ella's picture on line as available for adoption, a few weeks ago, I think. And this week, I saw it.
Now David and I may meet Ella this weekend - if arrangements to bring her from Maine can be worked out - and "foster" her for a week or so to see if she likes us and we like her and even might want to adopt her long term. In a way it seems too soon after losing Jessie. In another way, it feels like something that just is supposed to be happening. Even if we decide this is not the dog for us long term, perhaps we will keep her as a "foster" dog for a while. I have to think, that Jessie would approve of us helping another dog in any way, short or long term.
So very many dogs, treated like disposable toys, discarded for any or no reason than convenience. Of course in a world in which human beings treat other human beings - even children - as disposable, how can I be surprised that some would treat "mere" creatures the same and worse. Perhaps one day dogs will evolve (while we humans are still yelling at each other on MSNBC and Fox News) and learn to speak for themselves and rise up, seek justice. They can only improve this world, and I for one will be happy to hand it over to them, to the loyalty, commitment and love they embody every day. Perhaps if I learn to evolve some more myself, one of them will consider me to be "adoptable."
Peace. Kindness and compassion to all creatures, including little Ella.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Saturday morning
A picture from my trip:
I'm home after a full week away. I flew to Nashville, TN on Thursday, Oct. 28th and stayed the night, visiting with Aunt M, Cousin C -- who has fully recovered from her terrible car accident back in July - and a visit from Cousin D and Crazy Larry. Then Friday drove to Atlanta. (I was very nervous about driving to and back from Atlanta, but it worked out okay.) I spent Friday evening through Tuesday evening with my son, daughter-in-law and grandson, who turned four while I was there. My brother John joined us some of the time, too. For my grandson's birthday, my son and I drove with him down to Cordele, GA to "Day Out with Thomas" (Thomas the Train, for the uninitiated). It was about a 2-hour drive each way, but my grandson was SO excited and had such a good time. My son's father (my ex), H, met us there, driving up from the GA coast where he now lives, and my grandson loved having Grandpa there, too. And it was lovely to have the 2-hour ride each way to talk with my son (who kindly did the driving!). Then I drove back to Nashville on Wed and flew home on Thursday. Wed night, we cousins plus Crazy Larry had a rip-roaring game of Triple Yahtzee (used to be my mom's favorite). It reminded me of how good it is to "do" things together, rather than TV-watch. By the end, I was ready to come home. Sleeping on couches and strange beds, living out of a suitcase, being a "guest" - it gets harder as one gets older, I think. But all in all, a lovely week (and very nice to be off of work for 7 work days - I took off the Friday after the day I got home, too).
Now I'm home and the apartment is quiet and empty feeling - no Jessie. Poor David was here by himself for the whole week and I know he really felt Jessie's absence. (Another benefit of going out of town for a week was changing my surroundings which helped - or at least postponed - dealing with losing Jessie.) Yesterday after I got back I went to the vet's office and picked up Jessie's "remains". It made me sad just to drive up to the vet's office and go inside. At some point fairly soon I will scatter her ashes in the park. It's not so much that that was Jessie's "favorite" place. I'm not sure she had a favorite place. She loved being out anywhere, really. But we spent so much time there together over the past year, and I expect to keep spending time there, so going there will be a way to continue to be with Jessie. I'm not quite ready to do the scattering yet. But I don't want to wait too long either.
While I was away, the mid-term elections took place. I saw television again for the first time in 2 months - haven't been missing much, from what I could tell, especially as leading up to election day, the TV was full of nasty election ads. It will be interesting to see what happens over the next 2 years. My grandmother - may she rest in peace - who grows wiser every year that I grow older, used to say "Be careful what you ask for - you might get it!" I would offer the Tea Party and Republicans that same advice. Of course, my main feeling is a pox on all their houses.
Monday I have a mammogram and bone density scan. Then I see Dr. M on November 30th. I think December may be a doctor-free 31 days.
Peace and well-being to each conscious being - 2-legged, 4-legged and no-legged (whales! dolphins!) - on earth.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)