The question today is: Where do I go as a daily diarist after spending almost all of yesterday’s entry dealing with my innards going outwards? Admittedly, not a pleasant subject, but a very real one as I head into the cruxes of my cancer. I did try to make it entertaining, even OMG funny (see Day 009), but today I’ll go easy on both of us. I took my meds as ordered, so let's move past my GI heave-hos.
Diane has been reminding me of this tendency of mine, whenever I get a little too puffed up over my illness and forget the rest of my brain and bones, that meanwhile, there’s a life going on that has roots and branches and bark and fruit reaching far beyond this damned disease. “Everything is not always all about the cancer, you know.”
One slice of humble pie, coming up. She loves me; she is unconditionally there for me, but she’s also determined to help me focus on and embrace all that I have, all that we have --- all the goods and goodies in our lives that have nothing to do with my affected lung and lymph.
I can also forget way too often that all suffering is relative, and all attending relatives suffer right along with the one afflicted. She is hurting, too. She is worried. She is scared. She is angry at the illness. And, when I falter, she is the braver one and helps me to help myself through it.
She also knows that I need to come away from and get outside of what seems like an encircling incredible shrinking man mist, but easy to say is not easy to do. Yes, I do need to go there. Yes, this cancer is always running in the background, sometimes taking center stage, and some days it IS the stage, but it is not the only play in a season … ever.
Time out today to simultaneously cinch it up, let it go, and get out on the Harley between treatments. In general, I should always keep their Live To Ride, Ride To Live credo in plain sight.
Today I visited a dear disabled friend for a fun photo op with the bike. And, later, I asked for Classical music while humming in the chamber. Something about Ludwig’s “Ode To Joy” that had me, my radiating rotating armatures and Beethoven jamming in smooth synchronicity.
I also had a beard trimming ritual with Diane, and when I wrap this up, we’re leaving cancer on the back burner and settling in for a spirited and benign game of Malbec, wheat crackers, cheese and Scrabble.
Tonight, all the world’s a triple word score.
More as we go, El