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
