It is a mystery

Every time I have chemo I have the same reaction.  There are three days in which I am gradually getting more tired.  There is often one or two nights of insomnia and then a lot of sleeping.  I sleep on the couch, in front of the TV, I go to bed early.  I wake up and I am tired and feel myself dragging through the day. 

There is now the added tension of tracking my blood pressure which adds to the stress and anxiety.  I wrote about this - as I have several times over the past months.  It is not just physical issues, but also emotional and spiritual as I feel a sense of despair take over especially as I look forward   to surgery in January.  How will I do this?

And today is Thursday and I am in a completely different place now.  I wake up feeling well and look forward to going to my Peer Group today and participating in life.  It is amazing how the despair melts away as the energy comes back and sleep restores me and all is well.  It is a mystery.  

 I have been thinking a lot about helplessness lately.  I, of course, experience it in my health as I don't know what is happening inside my body right now.  I don't know what is going to happen the next time I get my blood work done.  I don't know what will happen with the surgery. 

 Really, the blood pressure is an example of how this works.  There is a part of me that doesn't want to be helpless - instead I try to fix it with deep breathing or praying or drinking green tea or laying on my side.  I try everything that people suggest.  No one wants me to be helpless - there must be some way I can control this.  All of which leads to a deep frustration with myself.  I keep hearing that I have to have a good attitude - that will make all the difference people tell me.  And I do and I don't.

Yesterday before I did spiritual direction I glanced through the Pema Chodren book "When Things Fall Apart" and came across this quote

"If we are willing to give up the hope that insecurity and pain can be exterminated, then we can have the courage to rest in the groundlessness of our situation."

I have these conflicting thoughts these days.  Can I accept the helplessness and at the same time believe that there is divine guidance and healing?  Are they in opposition to each other.  To give up the hope that insecurity and pain can be eliminated is not the same as giving up hope.   And I guess the hope is in the existence and power of love.

The last few days have been full of a lot of love directed toward me and John.  I have received meals from friends and family, a pie from a friend, chocolate covered strawberries and the great affection of my pickleball gang.  Yesterday I came back to paddle taps after six weeks away and was greeted by so much love.  I played a little bit and 20 of us had lunch together.  Just writing about it brings me to tears.  Love sustains me these days and fills me with wonder and awe.

So, the helplessness is real and so is the love.  Both And? 

It is a mystery.

My Fifth Chemo

And lots of anxiety.  

Wednesday I had my fifth chemo.  It turns out that there will be two more - one the day before Thanksgiving and one mid December.  Then I will go into surgery again in January.  This is part of the anxiety.  It is called "debulking" and it will help to literally remove the cancer in bulk.  And that should help bring down my "numbers" which appear to have plateaued.  That is another source of anxiety.

And then there is my blood pressure.  The third chemo that I am on raises my already high blood pressure.  Friday I was on the phone with the nurse getting yet another medication to try to bring the high numbers down.  It is a real struggle and yet another source of anxiety.

Finally, there is the intermittent problems I have with insomnia.  Two nights ago I was up for a couple of hours and last night it seemed like I did not sleep at all.  I am sure I did - and at least I rested.  None of this is good for blood pressure and contributes to anxiety. 

So, there you have it.  I am waiting for the next three "bad days" to pass so I can get back to being "me" again - or the variation of me that is hopeful and somewhat optimistic and more peaceful.  Instead of fretful, anxious and scared.  Now I wait and pray and rest and trust that somehow in ways I cannot imagine right now - all will be well.

And I AM going to talk to the doctor this week about sleeping pills and other meds.  I need help.

I was grateful to read this practice.  It has been helpful.

James Finley guides us through a contemplative practice that anchors us in the transformative love of God:

In this contemplative practice, sit and renew your awareness that you’re sitting in the presence of God all about you and within you. As you inhale, inhale God’s silent “I love you,” in which God is being poured out and utterly given away to you as the miracle of your very life. Then when you exhale, exhale yourself in love: “I love you.” And so, we are breathing along with God, “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.” From the reciprocity of love, destiny is fulfilled, and the foundations of suffering are healed.

As we sit this way, suffering arises. The suffering then might be our anxiety and concerns today, for ourselves, for our loved ones, for the world. As we sit in the midst of the arising of the anxiety, when we inhale, we inhale this love of God loving us through and through, anxiety and all, finding no hindrance in our anxiety, loving us so unexplainably forever. Then when we exhale, we exhale ourselves in love, anxiety and all, to the love that loves us. This requires gentle perseverance, because anxiety arises again. It doesn’t automatically go away. We sit with it, we lean into it again, and we hold fast to this love that sustains us in the midst of things….

This practice, then, experientially grounds us in this love wisdom. This love wisdom—grounded in practice—empowers us to go out and share this with other people in the circumstances in which we find ourselves.

So......in the midst of facing a lot of unknowns and the resulting anxiety - All will be well, right?

On Facebook there was a helpful reading by James Finley

My Morning Routine

I am a morning person and I look forward to every day.  Part of it is my routine.  When I go downstairs the first thing I do is make coffee.  Then I take my morning pills and my blood pressure.  By that time, the coffee is ready and I sit down to do my puzzles, 

I subscribe to the New York Times daily puzzles and it is an investment in sanity for me.

What the puzzles do for me is to help me to use my brain in ways that give me  great satisfaction.  I start with Spelling Bee and after I have made some progress I move to Wordle.  My opening word is always ARISE and usually I am able to discern the word.  (My stats are 97% success)  Then I go back to spelling bee and usually get a few more words and then on to the mini crossword.  I do it as quickly as I can and it can be frustrating because my fingers don’t work as fast as my mind does.  Then I go  back to spelling bee where I look at the hints.  At this point I am usually “Great” or “Amazing.”  If I am not yet a genius, I will l glance at it throughout the day.   At some point in the morning, John comes by and we do "Connections" together.  It is usually very gratifying as we talk through the various meanings of  words that  can link them together.   It can also be frustrating as the answers contain information that we literally don’t know – like hip hop artists or cartoon characters. Our win statistic is 88% so we have room for growth.

Every time I solve a puzzle,  I share it with the girls on the text we all do in the morning.  So, it is definitely a way to connect even though it is pretty superficial.  On reflection, what puzzles do for me is present a problem that actually has a solution.  And usually I get it.  It helps me with my “dementia watch” - but it also almost gives me a sense of grounding.  There is a problem and there is a solution.  

The rest of my life is not so clear.  I take pills and I take my blood pressure because of the cancer.  I am now on a third kind of chemo whose side effect is to raise my blood pressure which is already high.  So morning and evening I am monitoring it - hoping that it will be under 150.  Otherwise, getting the chemo is in question.  If there is one thing I have learned through this cancer journey is that I carry more anxiety than I ever knew.   These days every time I take my blood pressure, I try to consciously relax and breathe.  My default seems to be  tension and worry,

The problem is cancer and the solution is very much in question.  There is so much that I don't know and don't get to know.  I don't know when the next chemo is; I don't know whether the chemo is working; I don't know if I will have surgery again.  I don't know if I am going to survive this.  I live in “I don't know.”

But my morning routine helps.  I get to connect with my husband and my daughters.  And I get to live in the reality  that some problems - like what is the  "Wordle" word - are actually solvable and knowable.

If only that were true of cancer.