The saying goes that God sends people into our lives to instruct us, to help us, and to show us his awesome mercy and love.
Today, I was witness to this and thank God for showing me His great Love and Comfort.
On the long flight home today from visiting my folks back in the midwest, I traded an aisle seat for a window seat with a young muslim woman dressed in hijabi. She wanted to sit across from her sisters, so I offered to trade places with her despite my claustrophobia at being crushed into the window seat. Her frown turned into a quick smile as she settled into my coveted aisle seat. As I scanned the boarding passengers, trying to guess which larger one would get the middle seat, thereby sandwiching me to 4 1/2 hours of being boxed in against the dreaded stickey airplane wall, I watched as the whole plane boarded and no one took the middle seat.
Then, as I was sighing relief, I saw a figure of a tall lean older man in a baseball cap seemingly skip down the aisle heading toward my seat.
"HELLO!" he bellowed, stepping gingerly overly the young muslim woman and thrust his hand out to me. "I'm Gary". "mmmmcarol" I mumbled and tried to squeeze towards the wall as I quickly slammed down the armrest to establish my personal space. "greeeeeeat...." I sighed under my breathe. I'm stuck, and I have a small bladder, and I'm crushed against the wall for the next several hours, and I'm hungry... Good job, dumbass, I berated myself. Look what you get for being nice, stupid, stupid, stupid. And he's going to talk to ME the whole time; I just know it. Why doesn't he talk to the Muslim lady.... I just had that vibe that he would turn toward my direction....
I looked the other way and wiggled to my left to give the man more room. I thought about flipping down my sunglasses to pretend to sleep. I wished my IPOD wasn't broken so I could put on the head phones and flood my ears with sounds other than a human's voice.... "Oh do you have enough room? I don't need that much room" the man grinned at me and stretched out his long long legs. I looked at him sideways, as that was all I could do but look at him sideways. Ok, not a serial killer or a sex offender...so far, just a guy in his late 50s of so, clean cut and rather intelligent looking.
Soft features and crinkley smile lines....Like my love.
He had eyes that laughed and sparkled. Like my love.
How I miss Kevin....oh how I miss Kevin....
I settled in my seat and held my breath for what I just knew would come....
He turned to me and began his story. He told me that he was from Sedona, and that his sons were his pride and joy and that they had taken him on a trip to the Netherlands. He told me he loved God so much, and that he was so blessed in life, and that he was an elder for his church. I listened politely, smiled and nodded my head. My eyes started to flutter closed and my bladder started to bother me.
Ugh.
Then, he turned to me and said: "God brings people in our lives at different times to tell us certain things. I had 7 flights to choose from to return to the U.S; my son is a pilot for this airline, and he gave me a list of all these flights to choose from, but for some reason, I felt I just had to choose THIS particular one, at this particular time, and I know the reason why: it is to talk to you. I just knew I was supposed to meet you and to talk to you".
I squirmed in my seat and felt goosebumps. This is getting weird. I think I have to go to the bathroom....
"I want to tell you to Trust Him and to Give it All to Him and to go ahead and to ASK Him to give you exactly what you need. He is talking to you now and telling you that it is going to be alright. It is going exactly according to His divine plan. A miracle can happen if you pray for it, but you have to ask for it in prayer, and all you have to do is to believe in Him and that He will do it".
I stopped squirming and turned to really listen to this stranger, this person who had been rambling on and on about how great his life is.
"He is using the person you are thinking of right now in your life to teach you to have faith and to trust in Him completely. The person you are thinking of is going through what he is going through right now because there is a Great Lesson He wants you to learn. Miracles happen, no matter what science, man, or anything or anybody else says; When you put God first, you will see that there is nothing greater in this whole world than God's Power".
He then asked me about the elements of the Fruits of the Spirit and reminded me to live like that; he reminded me how I would hear God's word every single day if I took time to really listen; he told me it wasn't selfish to ask God for seemingly selfish things, because it wouldn't hurt, because God always listens; It would bring me closer to Him. He then asked me: what's his name; and I told him about what happened to Kevin.
Then, he leaned his shoulder against mine and said a soft prayer: God please give comfort and strength and healing to Kevin; Please heal him and bless him. Please give them both peace and happiness and lead them to live life in such a way to glorify You in all they do.
I couldn't remember exactly what else he said, but I knew that right at that very moment in time, God was talking directly to me, through this complete stranger.
Gary turned to me and said: "Carol, who is the Great Healer?"
I turned back to him and nodded. yes; God.
Getting Ready for Bed
Mommy's View of the Kids right before bed time.
1 Corinthians 13
"Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance".
Monday, August 31, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
He Says She
It strikes me as quite funny that the Cancer is referred to as a female gender "She".
Well, then, it makes sense that as a She, she would be a worthy adversary to our protagonist.
Let's just hope that our man doesn't hold back any punches just because she is a she, because that She is no Lady, and like a She with no sense of moral values, she's not going to hold anything back in her efforts of total takeover.
Perhaps it would be easier to call the Cancer a He. This way, it would be a gentleman's game.
Well, then, it makes sense that as a She, she would be a worthy adversary to our protagonist.
Let's just hope that our man doesn't hold back any punches just because she is a she, because that She is no Lady, and like a She with no sense of moral values, she's not going to hold anything back in her efforts of total takeover.
Perhaps it would be easier to call the Cancer a He. This way, it would be a gentleman's game.
Alone
There are some folks who like to be left completely alone when they are not feeling well.
There are some folks who feel would feel more comfortable surrounded by the company of people.
While both types of people deal with pain in different ways, there comes a time when each type has to deal with the condition all alone.
No one can possibly understand the multitude of emotions that must beset the afflicted. Friends and family and loved ones can imagine the feeling, but at the end of the day, the condition must be faced alone. Even when another person has the same affliction, each afflicted person responds differently to it. Their bodies respond so differently to the same treatment regimen.
Seeing my post-ops. today, I was struck by how the mental state can really affect the person's dealing with their situation. I had two patients, one that came after I operated on her eye last week. Her case was extremely challenging and risky, but she has done excellently. Her vision went from Count Fingers to 20/25 today. She was smiling. Happy. Looked awesome. She felt good, said she was doing well, and taking great care of herself. Her case lasted almost 2 hours, while I struggled to harvest a graft for her eye and transplant it onto another site in her eye. Her tissue was thin and friable, and I sweated throughout the whole case. With each stitch, her tissue came apart from the graft. Then, on post-op. day 3, she poked herself in the eye with her steel antibiotic ointment salve tip and started bleeding from her eye. She came in to see me emergently and said timidly: "Did I ruin your graft?" I saw that it was in place and mercifully was intact. I treated her, patted her on the shoulder, and told her not to worry; that she did really well treating herself with her drops, with no one to help her. The past few days, she has come through beautifully, and all alone.
My next patient had the same exact surgery. Her case took less than an hour, and the results were perfection. The OR nurses and anesthetist even ooed and awed over the "beautiful result". She comes in with her husband and family in tow. She squints her eye shut and keeps rubbing at her eye, where the beautiful graft I harvested was transplanted. Her vision was count fingers and she is better than her pre-surgery vision near 20/25. She doesn't care things are looking great. She has a terrible horrible headache, and she's decided that nothing, not anything is going to make her feel better, because she is sure it is after having surgery that caused her headache. Her family shakes their head. They say she's been complaining all day about this and that for days. She is surrounded by her doting loved ones. They are her daily entourage. But her state of mind says that nothing is going to make her feel better or see better, though her surgery was by the textbook and her post-operative course was unventful and smooth.
At the end of the day, each patient has to work through their condition alone, in their own way, and in their own minds. Whether surrounded by people or alone, it is done in their own personal way.
My dearest, you are not alone. I know you may feel alone right now in your journey, but as you can see, so many many people love you so much and are right there with you all the way. And though you do face this alone, with your great mind and attitude, you will be like my number one patient, in whose case I actually struggled, and then she struggled all alone, but she is doing Beautifully. Perfectly.
There are some folks who feel would feel more comfortable surrounded by the company of people.
While both types of people deal with pain in different ways, there comes a time when each type has to deal with the condition all alone.
No one can possibly understand the multitude of emotions that must beset the afflicted. Friends and family and loved ones can imagine the feeling, but at the end of the day, the condition must be faced alone. Even when another person has the same affliction, each afflicted person responds differently to it. Their bodies respond so differently to the same treatment regimen.
Seeing my post-ops. today, I was struck by how the mental state can really affect the person's dealing with their situation. I had two patients, one that came after I operated on her eye last week. Her case was extremely challenging and risky, but she has done excellently. Her vision went from Count Fingers to 20/25 today. She was smiling. Happy. Looked awesome. She felt good, said she was doing well, and taking great care of herself. Her case lasted almost 2 hours, while I struggled to harvest a graft for her eye and transplant it onto another site in her eye. Her tissue was thin and friable, and I sweated throughout the whole case. With each stitch, her tissue came apart from the graft. Then, on post-op. day 3, she poked herself in the eye with her steel antibiotic ointment salve tip and started bleeding from her eye. She came in to see me emergently and said timidly: "Did I ruin your graft?" I saw that it was in place and mercifully was intact. I treated her, patted her on the shoulder, and told her not to worry; that she did really well treating herself with her drops, with no one to help her. The past few days, she has come through beautifully, and all alone.
My next patient had the same exact surgery. Her case took less than an hour, and the results were perfection. The OR nurses and anesthetist even ooed and awed over the "beautiful result". She comes in with her husband and family in tow. She squints her eye shut and keeps rubbing at her eye, where the beautiful graft I harvested was transplanted. Her vision was count fingers and she is better than her pre-surgery vision near 20/25. She doesn't care things are looking great. She has a terrible horrible headache, and she's decided that nothing, not anything is going to make her feel better, because she is sure it is after having surgery that caused her headache. Her family shakes their head. They say she's been complaining all day about this and that for days. She is surrounded by her doting loved ones. They are her daily entourage. But her state of mind says that nothing is going to make her feel better or see better, though her surgery was by the textbook and her post-operative course was unventful and smooth.
At the end of the day, each patient has to work through their condition alone, in their own way, and in their own minds. Whether surrounded by people or alone, it is done in their own personal way.
My dearest, you are not alone. I know you may feel alone right now in your journey, but as you can see, so many many people love you so much and are right there with you all the way. And though you do face this alone, with your great mind and attitude, you will be like my number one patient, in whose case I actually struggled, and then she struggled all alone, but she is doing Beautifully. Perfectly.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Getting Rest.
Poor man sounds so tired. So very very tired. One can hear it in his voice.
It's soft and measured. He has to rest for awhile.
It's only the second day, and the chemo has hit him hard. He can only stay on the phone for less than a few minutes at a time before he falls asleep or before the nausea takes over, and he has to take his medications.
I encourage him to eat while he can, before the radiation side effects make eating more of a chore. But he is so tired. I worry that if he sleeps, he won't be able to get the nutrition that he needs so he can endure the hours of treatment ahead. Yet, he so obviously needs the rest. If he sleeps, he would not have a chance to treat with the oral hygiene regimen mandated during treatment.
My mind can't seem to rest. I wonder what I can do, is there anything I can do other than let him rest. But that is all I can do for now. Let him rest.
I wish my mind can rest.
It's soft and measured. He has to rest for awhile.
It's only the second day, and the chemo has hit him hard. He can only stay on the phone for less than a few minutes at a time before he falls asleep or before the nausea takes over, and he has to take his medications.
I encourage him to eat while he can, before the radiation side effects make eating more of a chore. But he is so tired. I worry that if he sleeps, he won't be able to get the nutrition that he needs so he can endure the hours of treatment ahead. Yet, he so obviously needs the rest. If he sleeps, he would not have a chance to treat with the oral hygiene regimen mandated during treatment.
My mind can't seem to rest. I wonder what I can do, is there anything I can do other than let him rest. But that is all I can do for now. Let him rest.
I wish my mind can rest.
On Being Strong
"Be Strong".
What does it mean when we are told to be strong in times of duress, when the chips are down, when life is especially exceptionally challenging...
"Be Strong".
It doesn't mean not feeling icy fear.
It does mean to take a deep breathe and to work through those feelings of terror that stalks our hearts and endeavors to paralyze us from foward thinking and action.
To be strong means staring right into the dark abyss of an endless black hole and daring to confront the cold Unknown.
To be strong means to accept whatever circumstance or situation is presented to us with a stoic sense of knowing that this is what is meant to be and so it is.
To be strong means to give our concerns up to whatever Higher Power is in ultimate control. It means an infinite trust in the universe that things will somehow, someday be made right as it should be.
I don't understand, nor will I perhaps ever understand why this is all happening to someone I care so deeply about, and hence, it is happening to US, and each person who knows him, but it is happening, and I must be strong, because he is so very very strong. And I will learn from his example.
There is where the circle comes back around, for as he is strong, I am strong, and I can be strong for him.
What does it mean when we are told to be strong in times of duress, when the chips are down, when life is especially exceptionally challenging...
"Be Strong".
It doesn't mean not feeling icy fear.
It does mean to take a deep breathe and to work through those feelings of terror that stalks our hearts and endeavors to paralyze us from foward thinking and action.
To be strong means staring right into the dark abyss of an endless black hole and daring to confront the cold Unknown.
To be strong means to accept whatever circumstance or situation is presented to us with a stoic sense of knowing that this is what is meant to be and so it is.
To be strong means to give our concerns up to whatever Higher Power is in ultimate control. It means an infinite trust in the universe that things will somehow, someday be made right as it should be.
I don't understand, nor will I perhaps ever understand why this is all happening to someone I care so deeply about, and hence, it is happening to US, and each person who knows him, but it is happening, and I must be strong, because he is so very very strong. And I will learn from his example.
There is where the circle comes back around, for as he is strong, I am strong, and I can be strong for him.
Morning Sleepless
The mornings are the worst. Never been a morning person, but lately, sleep has been fitful at best. This means waking up at 4, 4:30, 5, 5:15. Hitting snooze has been a regular occurrence.
What helps is that by bed time, I'm physically tired. The puppies are ready for cuddle time, and each take their respective places on the bed: the Boy at the foot exposing his belly to the sky, and the Girl curled up tightly by my chest.
Sandwiched, I feel safe. I feel like he is close by, and I'm comforted.
He is always an early morning riser. Up and out, doing exercise at the crack of dawn, while I would pull the covers over my head when the light streams through the blinds. The smell of coffee would linger as I would slowly make my way to the kitchen after shaking off the grogginess of the evening sleep. I would still feel his presence and still make out his scent. I'm comforted.
However lately, I'm up before sunrise. The dogs still sandwich me, but it is different. I'm feeling so far far away. I have to know that he is close to me every single day. Especially now. I have to know that he is safe and doing fine and not in pain, or feeling sick, or feeling down. I want to be there to comfort him the way he has always comforted me, even when he is far far away.
It never used to bother me that much, because I always knew that we would see each quite soon, and the comfort would come back, but lately, it doesn't feel that way. I worry; has something happened? Is he alright? Is he feeling so not well that he can not get out of bed--that is not like him, that is more like me. How is he doing....
What helps is that by bed time, I'm physically tired. The puppies are ready for cuddle time, and each take their respective places on the bed: the Boy at the foot exposing his belly to the sky, and the Girl curled up tightly by my chest.
Sandwiched, I feel safe. I feel like he is close by, and I'm comforted.
He is always an early morning riser. Up and out, doing exercise at the crack of dawn, while I would pull the covers over my head when the light streams through the blinds. The smell of coffee would linger as I would slowly make my way to the kitchen after shaking off the grogginess of the evening sleep. I would still feel his presence and still make out his scent. I'm comforted.
However lately, I'm up before sunrise. The dogs still sandwich me, but it is different. I'm feeling so far far away. I have to know that he is close to me every single day. Especially now. I have to know that he is safe and doing fine and not in pain, or feeling sick, or feeling down. I want to be there to comfort him the way he has always comforted me, even when he is far far away.
It never used to bother me that much, because I always knew that we would see each quite soon, and the comfort would come back, but lately, it doesn't feel that way. I worry; has something happened? Is he alright? Is he feeling so not well that he can not get out of bed--that is not like him, that is more like me. How is he doing....
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Second Opinions.
Whose opinion is important? Sometimes, too many opinions can cause confusion and chaos and even frustration. Sometimes, many opinions are critical and necessary in order to clarify and to come to a wonderful powerful solution not initially thought of.
I was surprised to hear that getting a a second opinion could actually be construed as something discouraging, rather than encouraging.
Asking experts for second opinions are commonplace. In my field, where there are so many subspecialists, asking for a specialist's consultation is par for the course. If anything, a second opinion gives a person more options, if the options exist if at all. Sure, one can make the argument that more information can cause some kind of sensory overload, but in the end, most people would like to have some alternative available to them.
It's like ordering from a menu; while it's nice to order the same thing each and every time, it is sure nice to have a choice of another main course if available;
It is a rare bird that goes to a restaurant with only one item on the menu.
So, I was stunned to hear that getting a second opinion could be actually negative; how could that be when more heads together are better than one? How can getting a second opinion mean that one is shaking confidence in the original planners? That thought misses the whole purpose of a second opinion.
I guess, there's the other saying: there are too many fingers in the pot, or the other saying too many Chiefs and not enough Indians.
Bottom line is, in my humble opinion, which could be someone else's second opinion, (and you are very welcome to use my opinion as a second opinion), may cause initial confusion, but at the end of the day, if the original plan is confirmed, it is a comfort to know that one is being appropriately and best cared for.
I was surprised to hear that getting a a second opinion could actually be construed as something discouraging, rather than encouraging.
Asking experts for second opinions are commonplace. In my field, where there are so many subspecialists, asking for a specialist's consultation is par for the course. If anything, a second opinion gives a person more options, if the options exist if at all. Sure, one can make the argument that more information can cause some kind of sensory overload, but in the end, most people would like to have some alternative available to them.
It's like ordering from a menu; while it's nice to order the same thing each and every time, it is sure nice to have a choice of another main course if available;
It is a rare bird that goes to a restaurant with only one item on the menu.
So, I was stunned to hear that getting a second opinion could be actually negative; how could that be when more heads together are better than one? How can getting a second opinion mean that one is shaking confidence in the original planners? That thought misses the whole purpose of a second opinion.
I guess, there's the other saying: there are too many fingers in the pot, or the other saying too many Chiefs and not enough Indians.
Bottom line is, in my humble opinion, which could be someone else's second opinion, (and you are very welcome to use my opinion as a second opinion), may cause initial confusion, but at the end of the day, if the original plan is confirmed, it is a comfort to know that one is being appropriately and best cared for.
Blog post archive
Here is one of my own favorite blogs from another blog site:
ahh, I smell you on my pillow. I feel your warmth next to mine. your soft hair tickles my face. I feel your loving wet kisses on my cheek and lips. wait. you smell gamey; AHHHHH. Dog breath! I open my eyes; noooo.....is that your spotted butt facing me. I wrinkle my nose to try to get away from your dog door. your stumpy tail wags a hundred miles an hour at me as your sleepy dewy eyes gaze at me lovingly. So much for my romantic dream.
ahh, I smell you on my pillow. I feel your warmth next to mine. your soft hair tickles my face. I feel your loving wet kisses on my cheek and lips. wait. you smell gamey; AHHHHH. Dog breath! I open my eyes; noooo.....is that your spotted butt facing me. I wrinkle my nose to try to get away from your dog door. your stumpy tail wags a hundred miles an hour at me as your sleepy dewy eyes gaze at me lovingly. So much for my romantic dream.
Letting go.
The old adage by Richard Bach: " If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they're yours; if they don't they never were...."
So simple, isn't it. Let them go...and either they come back or not. They are either yours or not.
The thought of waiting around for another to make an important decision that directly affects me and my happiness essentially can be summed up in my mind with one word: SUCKS.
Why do we struggle so much in the matter of Love? Why is it so hard to just--let--go, especially in matters of the heart?
Love in this purest of forms demands and entails self sacrifice and the surrender of complete control; The total effacement of one's ego and making the self vulnerable to the whims of another. If we, as intelligent human beings, can change things and make things happen -humans are movers and shakers- why don't we just do so? It is a natural human instinct to be DOING. Why be a passive being and just let things happen TO us; in other words, let the chips fall where they may?
Because, things may not fall into the right comfortable place and our hearts will likely BREAK.
Being in relationships where I put the most extraordinary and the mightiest effort to protect it from any and every real and perceived external threat possible, to assure myself that my love would choose to be with me and ONLY ME, drained every ounce of positive energy from my soul.
There really wasn't anything I could do to prevent my love from leaving with another suitor, once he chose to leave the safety of my arms and the loving embrace of my heart.
In the end, my heart ended up breaking, because in the end, I had no choice but to let go and let the chips fall where they would land, and my heart broke into a thousand million pieces anyway. It broke when I first found myself fighting to protect it, and it broke when I finally had to let go. It didn't matter. It broke and it hurt. It left me dazed and confused and questioning if this all was happening and if this was all for real, or a terrible, horrible, bad dream.
Anyway, like the law of physics, an equal and opposite force will be applied back if one applies a certain force forward.
Deep down, I knew the simple saying was right.
I let go, and the person CHOSE not to be with me, and hence, the person was never mine, nor was the person obviously ever meant to be with me. But, I was set free to come back all alone to me, and to start loving myself.
It is still a struggle for me. Every single day. I feel the cold clammy fear of losing my love to a perceived external threat, whether logical or illogical. But I know this: it is just easier to let go and just Be, than to be with someone that doesn't deserve you.
So simple, isn't it. Let them go...and either they come back or not. They are either yours or not.
The thought of waiting around for another to make an important decision that directly affects me and my happiness essentially can be summed up in my mind with one word: SUCKS.
Why do we struggle so much in the matter of Love? Why is it so hard to just--let--go, especially in matters of the heart?
Love in this purest of forms demands and entails self sacrifice and the surrender of complete control; The total effacement of one's ego and making the self vulnerable to the whims of another. If we, as intelligent human beings, can change things and make things happen -humans are movers and shakers- why don't we just do so? It is a natural human instinct to be DOING. Why be a passive being and just let things happen TO us; in other words, let the chips fall where they may?
Because, things may not fall into the right comfortable place and our hearts will likely BREAK.
Being in relationships where I put the most extraordinary and the mightiest effort to protect it from any and every real and perceived external threat possible, to assure myself that my love would choose to be with me and ONLY ME, drained every ounce of positive energy from my soul.
There really wasn't anything I could do to prevent my love from leaving with another suitor, once he chose to leave the safety of my arms and the loving embrace of my heart.
In the end, my heart ended up breaking, because in the end, I had no choice but to let go and let the chips fall where they would land, and my heart broke into a thousand million pieces anyway. It broke when I first found myself fighting to protect it, and it broke when I finally had to let go. It didn't matter. It broke and it hurt. It left me dazed and confused and questioning if this all was happening and if this was all for real, or a terrible, horrible, bad dream.
Anyway, like the law of physics, an equal and opposite force will be applied back if one applies a certain force forward.
Deep down, I knew the simple saying was right.
I let go, and the person CHOSE not to be with me, and hence, the person was never mine, nor was the person obviously ever meant to be with me. But, I was set free to come back all alone to me, and to start loving myself.
It is still a struggle for me. Every single day. I feel the cold clammy fear of losing my love to a perceived external threat, whether logical or illogical. But I know this: it is just easier to let go and just Be, than to be with someone that doesn't deserve you.
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