Thursday, November 5, 2009
Oh, and...I forgot the good news...I'm so good at reporting the bad!
I meant to share the good news: Avastin and Gemzar seem to have stabilized/improved my mets! So the course continues....last night the Gemzar had me feeling like I'd been hit by a truck; today I have lots of energy. I didn't take Trazadone last night (anti-anxiety drug used to control my hot flashes); I've had one nasty hot flash today, so I'm thinking, hmmm...maybe the trazadone is wearing me out, I'll try slipping back to one tab instead of two, and see how I feel.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
That My Joy May Be Full
“You have sorrow now,” [said Jesus], “but I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.” John 16:22
When I was in seminary back in 2000-2002, I wrote a paper on the elements of healing rituals in the Christian tradition (part of my Victor Turner Seminar, where we were busily studying ritual). I never realized studying ancient ritual would become critical to understanding my faith in the middle of breast cancer.
There was one thing that always puzzled me as I read down the list of tasks needing to be accomplished to restore the sick person to wholeness (though it may not cure or heal). I was puzzled as to why the sick person had to be "restored to the community" by confessing his or her sins to the elders and receiving forgiveness.
In the ancient tradition, which predates even Christianity, it was believed that sin had occurred to cause illness ("who sinned, this man or his parents?" the teachers ask Jesus. "Neither..." he replies.) Jesus himself forgave the sins of sick people, but also insisted that their sin did not cause their sickness. (John 9)
As I travel through my own Stage IV cancer odyssey, I've become keenly aware of how sick people become victims on so many levels. I can agree that sometimes we are our own worst enemies, we smoke, drink, eat unhealthy food, drive recklessly, have unsafe sex...and therefore at least part of our healing is confession and remorse for what we've done to injure ourselves and those around us. I can also acknowledge serious illness, in any form, has far reaching affects and those surrounding the ill person, from the work place, to family, to community.
But my travels with cancer lead me to observe that the sick person can become a victim as well. Today, while talking to a banker, I shared the avalanche that had become my practical life; from diagnosis, heart failure (doctor error), loss of job (church council errors), income cut by 3/4, diagnosis of mets, will lose house, can't afford health insurance and food and shelter all at the same time, three kids, single parent (not by choice), feeling deserted by my association, feeling sick throught it all. I laughed and said, "I never say, any more, 'well, what more can happen?' because it does."
And there are those among our friends who think it's important to tell us we could have avoided our current circumstances by changing the past circumstances of our lives, by keeping a positive attitude, by being "relentlessly chipper" as one of my mets sisters puts it. If we just say upbeat and fight this thing, the wisdom goes, we will win the battle against our disease! It's all in the attitude.
But what if, now and then, for good reasons, my attitude just plain sucks?
It seems to me, though this isn't evident in the ancient practice, that restoration needs to happen, not only due to sins of the sick person, but the sins of the community as well. When a doctor overlooks a basic standard of care because he's too rushed (or you're going to die anyway, so it's not all THAT important you receive good health care); when a church hamfistedly manipulates its pastor into resigning, causing enormous emotional pain through blame and lack of grace; when the wider community of country reduces sick people to poverty; when health insurance is beyond affordable; when, if we have a down day, we are contributing to our sickness, "through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault"...suddenly we carry this impossibly heavy burden of not only trying to deal with sickness but the failure of our community of support, the people who should have our back when we need them most. Not excusing us, but not accusing us, either; holding us in compassion, justice and whatever support they can bring. When this doesn't happen, it is the deepest betrayal and isolation.
Instead, there must be not only forgiveness for the sick, but for the surrounding community, as it says in James 5: " Confess your trespasses to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed. " The healing is a COMMUNAL EVENT. It points out the obvious injustices and need for restoration.
I need to say how wonderful some of my communities of support have been, in the midst of my "troubles", praying for me, sending along chicken soup, even raking some of my leaves! My new church, Immanuel and Pastor Melinda, so compassionate; Jane; the women's Bible Study at the Riverview center; Plymouth UCC; my girls; my ex-husband (who was a pill at the beginning of all this), my mom and dad and Susan, the friends like Jan and Diane and Robin and Kathy and Sally, and Mark and Mary, Mary V who is now fighting her own cancer battle, John and Maria, Joellen and Richard, Jim and Angie, the mets sisters, BC Recovery Foundation, Deanna Favre Foundation, Margo, all those wonderful cards (I get at least one a day). I couldn't do this without them. They have been steadfast, forgiven my sins, and offered constant care emotionally and practically. Some have come with help in one hand, and a request for forgiveness in the other.
They would be my cloud of witnesses, standing around and behind me and beneath me, when wholeness is restored to me. As it will be, as Jesus promises, "Your joy will be full, and no one will take it from you." And maybe my purpose for living in the midst of stage IV breast cancer is to find ways to taste the joy that Jesus promises, in the present, and leave the rest behind in God's hands.
When I was in seminary back in 2000-2002, I wrote a paper on the elements of healing rituals in the Christian tradition (part of my Victor Turner Seminar, where we were busily studying ritual). I never realized studying ancient ritual would become critical to understanding my faith in the middle of breast cancer.
There was one thing that always puzzled me as I read down the list of tasks needing to be accomplished to restore the sick person to wholeness (though it may not cure or heal). I was puzzled as to why the sick person had to be "restored to the community" by confessing his or her sins to the elders and receiving forgiveness.
In the ancient tradition, which predates even Christianity, it was believed that sin had occurred to cause illness ("who sinned, this man or his parents?" the teachers ask Jesus. "Neither..." he replies.) Jesus himself forgave the sins of sick people, but also insisted that their sin did not cause their sickness. (John 9)
As I travel through my own Stage IV cancer odyssey, I've become keenly aware of how sick people become victims on so many levels. I can agree that sometimes we are our own worst enemies, we smoke, drink, eat unhealthy food, drive recklessly, have unsafe sex...and therefore at least part of our healing is confession and remorse for what we've done to injure ourselves and those around us. I can also acknowledge serious illness, in any form, has far reaching affects and those surrounding the ill person, from the work place, to family, to community.
But my travels with cancer lead me to observe that the sick person can become a victim as well. Today, while talking to a banker, I shared the avalanche that had become my practical life; from diagnosis, heart failure (doctor error), loss of job (church council errors), income cut by 3/4, diagnosis of mets, will lose house, can't afford health insurance and food and shelter all at the same time, three kids, single parent (not by choice), feeling deserted by my association, feeling sick throught it all. I laughed and said, "I never say, any more, 'well, what more can happen?' because it does."
And there are those among our friends who think it's important to tell us we could have avoided our current circumstances by changing the past circumstances of our lives, by keeping a positive attitude, by being "relentlessly chipper" as one of my mets sisters puts it. If we just say upbeat and fight this thing, the wisdom goes, we will win the battle against our disease! It's all in the attitude.
But what if, now and then, for good reasons, my attitude just plain sucks?
It seems to me, though this isn't evident in the ancient practice, that restoration needs to happen, not only due to sins of the sick person, but the sins of the community as well. When a doctor overlooks a basic standard of care because he's too rushed (or you're going to die anyway, so it's not all THAT important you receive good health care); when a church hamfistedly manipulates its pastor into resigning, causing enormous emotional pain through blame and lack of grace; when the wider community of country reduces sick people to poverty; when health insurance is beyond affordable; when, if we have a down day, we are contributing to our sickness, "through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault"...suddenly we carry this impossibly heavy burden of not only trying to deal with sickness but the failure of our community of support, the people who should have our back when we need them most. Not excusing us, but not accusing us, either; holding us in compassion, justice and whatever support they can bring. When this doesn't happen, it is the deepest betrayal and isolation.
Instead, there must be not only forgiveness for the sick, but for the surrounding community, as it says in James 5: " Confess your trespasses to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed. " The healing is a COMMUNAL EVENT. It points out the obvious injustices and need for restoration.
I need to say how wonderful some of my communities of support have been, in the midst of my "troubles", praying for me, sending along chicken soup, even raking some of my leaves! My new church, Immanuel and Pastor Melinda, so compassionate; Jane; the women's Bible Study at the Riverview center; Plymouth UCC; my girls; my ex-husband (who was a pill at the beginning of all this), my mom and dad and Susan, the friends like Jan and Diane and Robin and Kathy and Sally, and Mark and Mary, Mary V who is now fighting her own cancer battle, John and Maria, Joellen and Richard, Jim and Angie, the mets sisters, BC Recovery Foundation, Deanna Favre Foundation, Margo, all those wonderful cards (I get at least one a day). I couldn't do this without them. They have been steadfast, forgiven my sins, and offered constant care emotionally and practically. Some have come with help in one hand, and a request for forgiveness in the other.
They would be my cloud of witnesses, standing around and behind me and beneath me, when wholeness is restored to me. As it will be, as Jesus promises, "Your joy will be full, and no one will take it from you." And maybe my purpose for living in the midst of stage IV breast cancer is to find ways to taste the joy that Jesus promises, in the present, and leave the rest behind in God's hands.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Bored
Having cancer, besides being heart-rending and painful and nauseating, is boring. Some days I'm too tired to do much...some days I have lots of energy...but I'm getting sick of having no reason to get up in the morning except to get up in the morning.
And I don't want to talk about my cancer all the time or do stuff to deal with my cancer all the time (I think I need a "cancercation") or take anymore long naps (like the one I took from 9:30 - 12:30 this morning). I meant to walk the dog, but never got around to it, and now I have too many other things to try and get done before the kids get home (and chaos descends).
Maybe this is a good sign, that I'm feeling better enough to BE bored.
And I don't want to talk about my cancer all the time or do stuff to deal with my cancer all the time (I think I need a "cancercation") or take anymore long naps (like the one I took from 9:30 - 12:30 this morning). I meant to walk the dog, but never got around to it, and now I have too many other things to try and get done before the kids get home (and chaos descends).
Maybe this is a good sign, that I'm feeling better enough to BE bored.
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