Day 16 Fortnight

 

We hit the fortnight point this past weekend, and started into the third week of what David calls his 'life test'. I wanted to ask him what happens if we have more than one 'life test', but I'll let that sleeping dog lie. Maybe this life test, as he calls it, is his litmus test for survivability, I'm not sure. I kind of like how he speaks of this 'life test' as a singular thing, and not something to be repeated. 

He awoke on this Tuesday morning to the usual "busy" day that a Tuesday brings. Labs at 7:30, radiation at 8:25 straight to chemo at 10:00 and them the finale of seeing Dr Rosenthal (radiation oncologist) at 11:30. Then, the rest of the day is his. What's different about today? That he didn't want to get out of bed? No, that’s normal. That he's not interested in breakfast? No, not that either. It was the words that came from his mouth, "I'm ready to go home now". I can see a big corner turned today, and it's a corner that turns straight into a wall. The sore throat creeping slowing up is taking a toll. The soreness of his neck, the tenderness in his mouth, the loss of taste and smell almost completely gone. The dryness of everything about him - from his colon to his skin to his nasal passages to everywhere in and on his body. The sour stomach and uncontrollable burps. It's becoming blurry about whether it's the chemo or radiation pulling the punches. He can sleep and rest all day, then sleep through the night without an issue. This all wears on the body whose just trying to rest and catch up with what's happening. I encourage drinking fluids first thing in the morning - a lot. Since he's not been drinking for hours while sleeping, therefore it's time to rise and drink, all while he's just trying to do his best to rise and shine. Sinus rinsing, mouth rinses and anything to hydrate body parts is a necessary part of his morning and daily ritual. 

At his weekly follow up appt with Dr Rosenthal today, he was given an A++ with how he's progressing. He also got some new meds like lidocaine mouth rinse, and gabapentin for the nerve pain he has (and that will increase). The radiation dept is ready for what each week brings. They know what's going to happen next like the back of their hand, and if you listen real close, you can pick out the nuggets as they speak. Its a game we could call lose, lose. No way around it, but through. And so we shall. They are pleasantly surprised at how well David's doing. Out of all the times David has called me 'leather and salt' when I'm pressing through cold, hard driving rain on the side of the road or pushing myself to my own personal edge (usually at my own choosing), I am now going to turn this table around and say, "Way to go, Mr Leather and Salt!". And that's a compliment, my friend. 

Keep Feeling Fascination

As The Human League sings oh-so-well, David keeps feeling fascination. There's a certain fascination he has with The Machine, as I like to call it, that mesmerizes David day in and day out. He talks about it like a new friend who is super cool. The Machine is the radiation equipment that he lays in each day. He gazes, not stares, up (gently, of course, so many rules) as The Machine fires away rays-of-light into him, all while taking different shapes and creating unusual forms that catch his eye. The curiosity of the opening and closing of the lens inside The Machine, directly above his face, is something that catches his eye every day (no pun intended). He wants me to know how fascinating it is, so badly, that he takes great pains in explaining each and every detail. As I listen, I see David's face light up, like he's giving me the directions to a goldmine that he's found. Intense is a good word. Yeah, intense. So in his effort to convey his fascination of The Machine, he presents photos so that I may better understand. 

I see you, and those blue rays you speak of

Before this all started, I had first noticed that David had becoming intrigued awhile back with the traffic light bulbs that often times burn out and make shapes inside the traffic light device itself. 

David would be creative with this one, 
like it’s a frog leg or something 

He'd comment on "while sitting at a light today, I noticed...." a smiley face, or a winking face, or a shape of some sort. It's almost like that friend who always see pictures in the clouds. Look! A bunny rabbit! But David sees shapes in traffic lights that have the burnt out red, yellow but mostly burnt out green bulbs. I'd never even noticed that before. But he does - every time. 

This one? I’m guessing it’s a sideways moon spooning another moon reading a book. I give up. 

Okay, back to The Machine. He's taken another photo so that I can see what he sees. Or better yet, we can see what he sees. The “windows” that open and shut allowing the rays to stream out. 

I think we can see the windows that open and close

Now we know, too. 

Grapple Group

There's a crew around here who continues to battle life, along with David, and they stand strong at 2 others. Well, 3 counting David.

Sugar - for the first time in weeks, I'm happy to announce she slept through the night. You'd think I was talking about a baby, but uh no. It seems like a silly thing, but to Sugar, night time is when the nightmare really starts. The apartment in Houston has proven to be a place that ignites fear in Sugar. I can only guess in her past life (prior to our adoption) had some similarities of those here in Houston. Either that, or the degree of change in her life here vs the farm, whichever it is, it has her on edge. David thinks Sugar is telling us a dog has been killed in this apartment and it's haunted or something. Grim, I know. But Sugar's been on the brink since we arrived, and finally last night, she slept through the night. And you know what's just as great? So did Brooks! I got a text from Lauren this morning that little Brooks slept from 7 pm - 4:30 am. So there were many well-rested beings this morning, including myself.

Can’t wait to hold this sweet baby

Next up, Love Bug - she is definitely in the Grapple Group. Her injured wing/leg issue is something I've decided to investigate further, as I've scheduled her a vet appt here in Houston for tomorrow. I'll be curious to see what they think is wrong with her. I still have her splint on her right lower let and foot, and she's actually able to get in and out of her little fake-coop pretty well. She's determined. If I take her splint off, her right foot curls up. So either way (splint or no splint) she's struggling. I'll at least find out if she has a fighting chance - or not. 

I’ve truly lost my chicken lady mind to bring 
a chicken to an apartment in Houston. 

Radical Optimism

We heard from multiple sources that the best outcome from cancer treatment is partially due to having a positive outlook. I've been blessed with a new book (thank you, Becky and Cindy!) titled Radical Optimism. As I began reading it, I quickly realized it's one of those books that require ones-self to read and re-read many of the sentences over and over to gain comprehension of the words written. Beatrice Bruteau is the author that gets to the core of spiritual awareness on a level that rivals with how Eckhart Tolle does in A New Earth. I absolutely love reading these kinds of books (although a podcast is nice too, to help simplify the complex sentences and bring it to a Cyndi-level of understanding). These books are challenging and complex, and I think part of the reason why these books are so special is that humans are not often living a contemplative life. It’s inspiring when someone comes along who can bring about a understanding of higher awareness to ones life. 

Chapter One hit home right away. It's explanation of ego-consciousness is touching. I, personally, have a compulsion to constantly figure out how to keep my ego in check, because it's so bossy. Beatrice defines ego-consciousness as that which judges everything in our experience according to whether it's good or bad for me as a private, separate individual, rather than according to whether it is good or bad in itself. Mic drop.

She goes on to say that when we carefully observe and understand "our memories and desires of the past and future" that we can get out of ego-consciousness, and stop thinking of ourself in terms of past and/or future. She writes that living in the past or future is fantasy, and that it is unrealistic. I had to reread this section several times, but was able to comprehend what she's saying it that the present moment is what we have. The here and now. We hear this all the time, Be In The Moment. Stay in the Moment You're In. What David and I have found with cancer is that this has become easier. Why? Because life became definitive, real quick. A few blogs back (pre this book) I had talked about our being in the Now. And that our Now is everything. Our future is unknown. This book stamps this for me. It even tells me that living in the past or future does not bring peace, as we often think it can. Please don't misunderstand though, that it's not to say we should never think of the past or future, but that we "shouldn't study it". Study it. That's a new way of saying dwell on it? I don't know, but it sure sounds like it. Don't study it. Hum. I'm marinating on that. David says, “Just don’t stare at it, gently gaze at it”. 

The end of Chapter 1 sums up much of her initial writing as, "We do by not doing and by undoing." Ugh. I don't know why I crave this type of book and awareness-seeking as I do, because it's hard for me. Yet, when I have breakthroughs of understanding - it becomes my reward for seeking out more in life than just what I already know.

Mr RayOfSunshine

After David's busy day, he comes home craving Chef Boyardee's beef ravioli. It's soft, it's comfort food (for him anyway) and he can have it because that's his business. Then, it's off to ZzzzTown. 

Luckily, the rest of the week is very straight forward. Radiation, Rest, Repeat. Slowly, step by step, he's getting through this litmus test of life.

Ta ta for now,

Cyndi