We are slowly realizing that a lot of decisions are ours to make. If we want to quit the Chemo Session, than quit it is. We are in charge of our treatments. The doctors are there to guide and advise us. The ultimate decision is ours. This is a bit freaky. We are never sure if we are making the right decisions or not. Do we have the right amount of information to make a decision? Is it the right decision? To make matters worse, the doctors themselves are not sure either.

Every body reacts differently to the drugs. We were at a small party celebrating Kali’s birthday the other day. One of the friends has a brother with very advanced lung cancer. The gave him one Chemo session to which he reacted very badly. All the stuff they keep expecting me to go through. So sorry to disappoint. They removed his brother from any further Chemo treatments. So are you still on Chemo, he asks me. Yes. How long have you been on Chemo. Almost a year now, since last October. He was dumbfounded. I do not look or behave like a Chemo patient. Except for the afternoon naps. We are all different.

My blood work showed more positive results than last time. My liver enzymes are closer to where they should be with one indicative being totally in the normal range.

Dr. Hedley brought up the fact that we have not had a break since this thing started. I started feeling the pains in June 2009. By August 1, the diagnosis was fairly complete and certain. Operation on September 2, Chemo in October. Yikes. A year without a break. The doctor saw no reason why we should not stop the treatments right now and take our vacation. A CT-Scan was planned for Friday (today) to set a baseline for the future. Next CT-Scan in two months. Chemo would only start again if my situation deteriorates. A steady condition will result in a longer vacation.

A two month Chemo Vacation is on the books. Cannot believe it. I am in a bit of a daze. Basically what happens when you receive bad news or terrifically good news. You cannot believe your ears and shut down. Two months with no Chemo.

Janet and I stared at each other. What do you say? How do you react?

Doctor Hedley wanted to feel my stomach to make sure all was right. I suggested that things were still a bit tender. I can lift heavier bags now, but feel some discomfort if I overdo things. I am sure the healing process will speed up without the Chemo getting in the way. He appeared to confirm this. Good news. I am looking into going to the pool on a regular basis to strengthen the stomach a bit. I get bored swimming. Back and forth, you go. I will have to do it nevertheless.

Can we start eating raw meats again? I miss my steak tartar, sushi, and oysters. I was given the green light for sushi. Say it ain’t so. We decided on the spot that we would have that for dinner to celebrate. Diana, Nancy and her daughter Lily are coming over. Makes for a grand celebration.

Dr Hedley mentioned that we are in really good hands with his nurse, Shahnaz. We truly are. She is magnificent. She mentioned how much the nurses in the Chemo daycare like me. I walk in with my big laugh and cheer them up. The doctor just shook his head. All the nurses love him he says. Then gives me a gigantic hug before leaving.

Janet and I were left alone for a few minutes in the consulting room. She high fived me. This is the first time in almost a year were I could a glimmer of hope in her eyes. She seemed ecstatic over the news. She had a bright smile and a glitter to her eyes. That was enough to make me happy.

I phoned Fetneh and Fo’ad that night. It is always good to talk to them after news like this. It helps air my thoughts, clear the cobwebs a bit, get some perspective. I eMailed them of course, but that was not clear enough for them. Fetneh was jumping for joy. She made me promise to not withdraw from life because of this. The are chances of withdrawal symptoms creeping in if you are not careful. The hospital has been a home away from home, as it were. A very safe place to spend time in. You get sort of attached to these things. The routine. However horrible the Chemo experience is, you get used to the routine. The people. The support.

I assure her that I will not regress. I will keep the blog going. I may have a bit of trouble adjusting to the new freedom. We will see.

Fo’ad was just as supportive, of course. How does this change life? I don’t know. My curly head of hair may even make a comeback. I see no negatives in any of this. I become so much stronger when I am off Chemo for even a week. This can only be good.

We have lots of plans. We have been invited to all sorts of places. Long trips are out of the question. One day excursions within the vicinity of Toronto can be done. We are going to see Anne and Frank in Pickering, John and Sharon have invited us to their horse farm, Heather and Neil want us to go their farm. Heather reminded me that it is almost a year to the day when we went to their farm to share the news. Their friend Beth was there, also a cancer patient. She had a long conversation with me about what to expect. Strange to think of that now.

Devin is leaving us to go pursue a master degree in Change Management at the New School in New York City. We should be flying down on August 21. Sadness and happiness combined. I am ever so proud of him.

September will see me visit Montreal again to spend some time with Hong Lan. Janet will be attending the film festival in Toronto. My visit to Montreal will take some pressure off her. I have to talk to Hong Lan a bit more about what her remedies are. Stuff that includes acupuncture to increase energy levels. She deluged with so much information that I had trouble absorbing it all. A revisit is a must. To say nothing of spending time with Fetneh, of course. I will try and stay in the same apartment as before, taking advantage of Steve Mykolyn’s generosity. It is good to have a space of your own, specially when you are in my condition.

I lay down when we got home. All this stuff is a bit overwhelming. We had dinner and I returned to bed and made my phone calls.

Yesterday was my very first day of this vacation. I slept for a couple of hours in the afternoon. I also wandered around the house a bit lost. I have so many things to do, so many projects on the go. Where to start? Sleep of course. I am having lunch with Kali today. Looking forward to that. Planning the trip to New York when I get home from that.

Tomorrow is a new day. Taking us back to another sense of normalcy. Can’t wait.

I went back in on Tuesday morning are 8:30. The earlier the better. Takes an hour for the blood work results to make their way to the Chemo Daycare. Once approved, it takes about two hours to get the drugs ready. It pays to go in early. I went home after the blood work. No sense in hanging out there. We live about ten minutes away.

Got back to the daycare at precisely ten for my appointment. I explained to the admin person that my white blood cell count had been low and so on. Ahh, she said, right. There is a red tag on your folder which means Chemo is a go. They cannot look at my results, nor can I. Only a nurse can. And? No, cannot see a nurse until I go in since there is a red tag on my binder.

I waited an hour before deciding to go get a bite. They give you a pager. You have to stay in the building. No issues there. There is a Druxy’s in the building. I go down and get a bite. A lovely balanced diet. Fruit bowl with yogurt, and a chocolate bar. Go back up around 11:01. I know that because the admin person asked me where I had been. They paged me at 10:55 for God’s sake. What took so long. I ignored her. The nurse wanted to see me.

They made a mistake. My white blood cell count was down to 0.7. No Chemo was possible. I complained about the admin staff. The nurse suggested I complain to the hospital. She cannot do anything about it.

I was very upset at the waste of time. I could have gone home at 10:05.

I came home and wrote a letter to the customer relations person at the hospital. That conversation coming up in a separate entry.

I came home and rested. My energy came back with a vengeance on Wednesday. I am not sure how to explain my feeling when my energy returns. You feel like the walking dead while the energy is depleted. Very emotional. Cry at anything. You then wake up one morning and your energy has returned. You feel like a new person, almost jumping out of bed. New day, new person. You run around getting things done. Race against time. No rest allowed, too much to do, too little time. There is a poem in there somewhere.

You pay the price at some point when the energy is depleted. You crash and sleep hoping to recharge the batteries so you can start getting things done again. My energy level has lasted so far. Chemo is scheduled for Tuesday again. Neulasta on Thursday. See what happens. I am resting for the next couple of days.

Playing on the computer is resting for me. Hence the blog entries.

Thank you for being there.

Attended two sessions at the Wellspring centre. The first has to do with Brain Fog, the second Q-Gong.

Brain Fog

It turns out that Brain Fog is not restricted to chemo patients. We all have suffered from this condition at one time or another. You go to another room to get something, but forget what it was as soon as you enter the other room. Chemo patients seem to suffer from this condition with a slight variance, we don’t even know why we changed rooms.

The first session was geared to be an introduction of sorts, explaining what is yet to come. People talked about what they are going through. Nothing dramatic or surprising. Forgetting why you went to the store. Make a list. I did, then forgot where I put the list. I forgot about an appointment. Looked at the calendar three or four times and still forgot. Multitasking – what a joke. Can barely juggle one even let alone try to handle more. And the list goes on.

We will be doing exercises that will help us remember. Games and strategies. Word associations, and lots more.

Q-Gong

Fascinating. This is the mother of Tait-chi and similar exercise routines that have been developed over the years. Another discipline that tries to make you aware of your breath. we were taught how to breathe as it is the backbone of the other exercises. Through the stomach, not the chest. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. We had to put our hands on our stomach to make sure it was rising and falling. The instructions got slightly more risky, at least for me. We had to push in on the stomach to expel the bad chi through our back. This is a bit problematic for someone who has had his insides cut up. At one point, the moderator decided I needed help with the pushing of the stomach. I had to stop her. Why she asks, that is the location of my operation, says I. Ah, she backed off right away and told the class to not do anything that would hurt them.

We also did an energy test of sorts. You put you hands out in front of and cross them at your wrists. She then attempts to push down your hands and you resist. Hands stay up. Someone stands behind the first participant and gives the person a thumbs down over their head. The same exercise leads to little resistance as the hands collapse. She asked me to volunteer, which somehow defeats the notion of volunteering, methinks. I stood up and extended my arms are instructed. She pushed my arms down with great ease. Turns out the thumbs down saps the energy from everyone inthe room. Bizarre to say the least. Doing a thumbs up reverses the process. I guess this means we have to enter rooms and give the place an immediate thumbs up to increase the energy level. Will have to try that.

All the exercises were terrific. I just have to discipline myself to do them regularly while at home. Working on it.

Other things

I am reading a bit more. The week was high in energy for me. No chemo, or anything else. Felt very strong, but was still exhausted by the afternoon. A bit strange. Just have to adjust. I think I maybe push myself a bit harder when I am feeling well resulting in the fatigue. No worries.

Went shopping, mostly for food and stuff. All good.

The effects of life on the brain and emotions is staggering. I am not sure if those are the right expressions, but it seems you sometimes have little control for what goes on in your head and how it manifests itself. Everyone around you is really careful not to say anything that might upset me. Yet, there it is, the short temper coming out when the phone rings and people say stupid things to you.

One of my pet peeves is the security questions that people like Hydro ask you. What is your name? And now for security reason, we have to verify some information. Your address, postal code and phone number. All three pieces of information are public. Open the phone book. All there. Hardly security questions. I found myself getting more upset than usual at these inane questions. Also at sales people calling from Florida trying to sell me new doors and windows. Insane.

The honeymoon is over. This is a bit like a marriage. At some point you wake in the morning and realise a new normal has set in. Like it or not, this is your new life. Adjust. Get on with it.

I am not in any way, shape, or form, minimizing my plight and the chronic condition I am in. The past two weeks have really brought home the fact that it this is the future. We have to get on with our lives. This means that Janet has to get out more often. People have to be a bit less careful around me. I have to get accustomed to going for naps in the afternoon. I went for a drive this morning to buy bread and stuff for the house. Drove Leslie to her dinner party in the evening. I can do these things, and come home in one piece.

I am not being rushed to hospital for anything. I am as healthy as a cancer patient can be. My immune system appears to be very strong in spite of the cancer. No, it is not easy, but this is the new life. A combination of hospital visits to see Doctors, or get treatments. Then a week of good strong health.

The mother of one of Leslie’s friends died the other day. The mother of one of Janet’s cousins died the other day as well. Somehow, these episodes appeared more dire to me than what I am going through. Seems strange to say this, but all of a sudden, I thought, how terrible. My life went into the background. Theirs seemed so much more important.

I am making plans. Thinking of the future. It’s all good. Not that much energy to carry things out, and a bit scared about that. How can you start a project and do it only every two weeks? But there are options, and most of them can be done online.

Option 1. Become a WordPress expert of some sort. Create themes and plugins that I can sell to others. Maybe set up blog s for people. Others are doing it, and I can to. Certainly fits in nicely with my background. I just need to gain some expertise in WordPress. There are lots of books out there. Also need to become better at markting the blogs. But all that comes with practive and a lot of reading.

Options 2. Become a therapist of sorts to help others with chronic conditions. Take some online courses.

Option 3. A lot of people are pushing me into the art world. Daryl just bought me a wonderful water colour paint set, including paints, brushes, and paper. Included in the package is a free course from her sister who is a painter of some repute. I could become a painter, and incorporate my pictures, and maybe even some calligraphy. The possibilities are endless.

Al I need now is the courage of my convictions to do something. I cannot carry on like this for very much longer. The healthier I get, the more urgent is the need to do something, anything. Word Searches can only help so far.

One more thing, I have not shaved my head yet. It is thinning out, but there is still so much of it, that most people cannot tell I am losing it. For now, the hair stays.

The first few months have crated all sorts of emotions, most of which you are all terribly familiar with by now. The constant expectation to wake up in the morning and find that this was a dream, a case of parallel universes, sliding doors, is always there. The thought that this was a wonderful joke, we all laughed, can we get back to reality now? is pervasive.

Life goes on.

This week was focused on getting my white blood cell counts up. I still have no idea, nor can anyone tell me, why your white blood cell count fluctuates so amazingly. From .8 to 6.7 back to .8.  The Neulasta shot was supposed to make ne feel like a new man. Not so fast. A new man I am not. I sleep every afternoon for a couple of hours in order to stay up at night and spend some time with Janet. I still end up going to bed around 9PM.

We attribute the exhaustion to the low white blood cell count. This conversation has really dominated the week.

I had lunch with my friend Yama yesterday. We met in a food court in the business district. I walked from Janet;s building where we get to park the car for free, to the business district. All underground. Much warmer that way. Temperatures in Toronto are now showing tendencies toward winter. Minus 5 to 10 Celsius. With the wind bearing down on you, it gets much colder. So underground it is. Hard to imagine what it is like if you live in a warm climate.  But there major paths built underground that allow you to go from one place to another without seeing the light of day. Welcome to the cold white north.

The walk was interesting. I don’t go out much where I am not in control of my surroundings. I go to the market mostly during the week when there are fewer people around. Less chance of having someone sneeze on me. Everything we do is geared to minimizing exposure. Here I am walking through the underground at lunch hour. Painfully aware of the multitudes running helter-skelter from one place to another. Some in an awful hurry, hardly paying attention to the people around them. I found myself walking along the walls, stopping often to let some yahoo breeze past me. It was just a bit scary. Not a lot scary, just a bit, as you come to realize how incredibly exposed you are.

Lisa Merdjanian was always complaining about taking the subway and putting up with the wheezing and sneezing multitudes. I am sure she is still complaining, except I am not there to listen. I suddenly found myself in the same predicament, looking out for people showing the slightest inclination to sneezing, or coughing.

The lunch was fun. Good to be out and talking about almost anything but what I am going through. I had to make a concerted effort to not talk about my chronic condition. Steer the conversation away. Talk about something else. Technology is good. I am trying to keep up with the trends, which are nothing short of amazing. Life is also good. I talked about our new fridge and dishwasher. Not very exciting, but it is cool. Trying to get back to some sense of normal. There is always the soft voice to remind yo of reality, but never mind that. Keep talking. Make jokes. Whine about things. All good normal conversations.

The walk home was more perilous. There were fewer people out, but I was very tired. Walked with one hand grazing the wall as a point of reference.  Still managed to go to the market and buy some fruits. We are out of bananas and that just won’t do. I buy fair trade bananas at the market which taste really good. Some pomegranates, pears, apples, blueberries.  The usual.

Small things that make a difference. You have all read about my bag coming off in my sleep. It happened again a couple of weeks ago when my hand got caught in there somewhere. I heard it snap off. It took a very short time in my sleepy haze to realize what had just happened. What a mess. Janet woke up and we changed the sheets. How do you keep that bag on? Some genius suggested  we look into this spandex girdle thing that pregnant wear over their pants. Turns out a lot of pregnant women keep wearing their regular clothes, except they can no longer do up their pants. Someone has come up with this spandex thing that looks like a tube top that women wear over their pants. It covers thar pants all the way up their bellies. Simple. We bought one, and Fetneh just sent me one which came today in the mail.

Instant relief is what this is. It covers the bag completely. No way for the bag to come off. I wear one every time I get into bed. It might also help solve some other issues. More on that in the future.

Some of our close friends are coming for dinner tonight. They are bringing dinner with them from Riz, a Pan Asian Cuisine restaurant. This takes a whole amount of pressure off Janet and Devin. All we have to do is vacuum the house and neat it up. I have to take a nap to make sure I have the energy to survive a major part of the evening.

Tomorrow is another day.

The mood in the room was light and very positive. Only three others showed up, which was a bit disappointing. As you may recall, the topic of the day was anger. More specifically, which I did not hear, the animal that best represents our anger. I love animals, and do not have one that I can single out for this privilege. That particular part of the instructions had not registered. My painting does not have an animal in it, unless you consider the face that of an animal.

We started with the usual round the table is everything OK discussion. I decided to speak first. Big step for me. Surprisingly easy to do. There was more discussion this time about the types of cancer that we have. Or had. Or are dancing with. Or living with.  I mentioned that I had colon cancer. One of the participants urged me to use a different set of words to describe what I have,m since language has a huge impact on how we feel. Saying that I “have” cancer, has a negative impact on me. I do not recall what language she suggested. It sounded far more passive. It makes sense on some level. But I do have colon cancer, as the oncologist appointment confirmed. I felt that I am saying I have cancer until the doctors tel me I do not. It does not depress me, or change my mood. It is a fact. I pointed out that when the cancer has spread as far as this one has, you have cancer. That is all there is to it.

The moderator had to reign in the discussion several times. We were almost out of control. We had to get to the subject matter and start our art and stop talking, even though it was interesting and helpful. One participant talked about an issue she is having with a friend (relative?), the mention of whose name upsets her. How do you handle these situations? Not enough time for a full discussion, though the topic did return under a different guise. I will keep you in suspense for a while.

One person went to the gym for the first time in a year. Muscles ached that should not be aching. Happy aches. She has started to put on weight and felt strong enough to face the gym. She was athletic before and the return is a huge step forward. Someone else talked about putting on weight. We are all putting on weight which is a good thing, to a point. I wonder if we are eating our way out of this?

A very brief discussion took place over the tole of friends and relatives. This is a recurring theme. I find it interesting. On one hand no pressure should be put on others. They don’t understand, do they. On the other, how dare they abandon us? Takes too much energy to deal with the externals. Why have they stopped calling? Someone said it is almost as if they are doing crisis management for the first couple of weeks, then return to their lives. Surely that is normal and to be expected. I did not say much. I have the great bounty of a huge number of friends and relative who keep pestering me. Bring it on.

No one seemed to anxious to start painting. Everyone said they have no anger. Either dealt with it. Never had it. Gone. In the past. Move on. One person had spoken me about her issues before the session started. She suffers from an anxiety disorder. She described the symptoms to me. I have a good friend who has the same issue/condition. I am well versed in it. The participant mentioned that cancer is a walk in the park compared to the the anxiety thing.

I will start with her painting. It is funny how we paint things, the interpretation of which takes us by surprise. She painted a stick figure of herself. Eyes, top of head, arms and legs. Just enough to give it shape and proportions. Around it were red strokes, akin to flames in orange and red. To one side was a series of blue strokes, and to the other green. Almost symmetrical. The red flames encroached severely on the person in the middle. The blue and gree were a bit farther out.  This is an anxiety attack, where the heart palpitations start, and the person feels engulfed by flames. The blue is a coll breeze that should help calm the person down, and the green represents more calmness.  The attacks occur most often in enclosed spaces, elevators, the subway, specially if it stops in a tunnel and the doors remain closed. No air, no breathing, flames run rampant.

Someone asked why there was no mouth. I asked why the question? What is the significance to the mouth not being there? The painter did not have an answer. The person posing the question suggested that the lack of a mouth would suggest that she cannot talk to express herself. By which token, the lack of ears means she cannot hear, and nose she cannot breathe.  Much to my surprise, the painter agreed that during the attacks, she cannot breathe, or talk, or hear anything. Her heart starts palpitating, she gets very hot, heart races, then everything stops. The moderator asked her how her painting made her feel. She responded that her anxiety levels were increasing the more she looked at it. Would she feel better if she covered the red with blue paint. Yes she would.

I so wanted to take a picture of the before and after. This was so powerful and evoked such emotions. The moderator stopped me, quite brusquely. He was right of course. What a missed opportunity. I did not have time to explain why I wanted to take the picture. It represented such a momentous occasion for the participant. I really did not care if it did appeared in the blog. That was secondary. It was capturing the moment. The release in her as she covered the red with blue was palpable. We suggested to her that maybe visualising painting a situation blue would help ease the attacks. Amateur psychiatrists, one and all.

I was very upset at the missed opportunity. Janet pointed out the irony of the situation. Getting upset at a situation in an session dealing with anger.

Another participant painted the logo from the Florida Panthers. A brown panther (I have to talk to her about the colours) surrounded by yellow, black and red, nails in red and yellow, mouth in red, teeth exposed, claws raised. As angry a beast as one could ever wish for. She maintained that her anger is behind her. She is reconciled, content and moving on. She drew the panther because that was the assignment. What gets her really angry is the lack of civility in the world. No thank-you’s, and pleases. People butting in front of you without so much as a if-you-please. Aggressive drivers, people cutting people off, rude, inconsiderate, lowering our standards to the lowest common denominator. That is what really makes her angry. She got quite animated during this description. In all fairness, she is quite animated to begin with, but there was a glimmer of more. The panther was described as a protector, a beast that would defend her against the butting-inners, the callous nature of beings. She liked that image. Grrrr.

It occurred to me later as I mulled this conversation over and over in my head, that the anger is misplaced. That may be the wrong term. We don’t get angry at people butting in, or not saying thank-you, or sorry. We get upset. We are disappointed. We shake our heads. Angry? Doubt it. Is it possible that she is still angry but is repressing it? She reads this blog. I am not saying anything to offend her, but rather to further the discussion. As I have said many times, no judgments. Is the anger still inside somewhere, waiting to be acknowledged? An active sportsperson who is suddenly afflicted. Not sure how I would react in her shoes. I am not a terribly physically active person. Walking is the extent of my exercise. I would think anger would play a part. She says she is past it, and we have to take her at her word. Anger is showing up in her in places that, logically, should not be manifesting itself.

The third participant drew a dragon breathing fire. She exclaimed that her dragon does not look angry or fierce, since dragons always breathe fire. No idea why she drew this. She grew up in a house filled with anger which seemed to stop more positive elements from taking place. Makes sense. Nothing worse than rampant anger. The most curious statement she made that was not picked up on by anybody was that emotions do not have a place in an ordered society since they tend to derail things. Ordered society? This requires a definition, to say nothing of the premise itself. Maybe next week.

Her dragon was on the right side of the page facing left. It was suggested that this represents the past, and that indeed, she had put her anger behind her and was moving forward. A middle placed dragon would have represented the present, and a right looking one the future. The flying dragon may also represent the long journey home. The discussion around her painting came back to the one I mentioned at the very beginning of this post.

Letting go. It is so important to let go of things, be they negative emotions, anger toward people or events, or whatever. Peace and tranquility are a must for the cancer body. Is letting go an active or passive act? What are the steps required to get there? Acceptance and acknowledgment? Forgiveness? Forgetting? She can forgive, but not forget. I maintain that letting go is a passive act. It is accomplished after all the steps leading to it are complete. The steps are active, but the act of letting go is passive. I may have been in a minority. We talked about her capacity to let go, returning to her friend/family person whose mere mention upsets her so. Letting go of feelings of resentment toward those who she feels turned their back on her during this struggle.

Can you forgive and forget? Can you forgive without forgetting? Should you forget? Do you have to keep a vestige of the memory for future reference so the slight does not happen again. A bit like remembering history so it does not repeat itself. And we know how good we have been at that. Can you forget and still learn from past experiences? We tend to insist on remembering the bad as a point of reference, but often overlook the good. We learn from our past mistakes. Surely also from the non-mistakes.

We are constantly told to deal, forgive, forget and move on. Specially when the memory is a bad one. Seems like a natural. At the risk of offending a whole bunch of people, including some very dear relatives, we have remembered the events of the Holocaust for over 60 years. There is no denying the horrendous activities that took place, the numbers of people who have been affected, the incredible cruelty inflicted on so many people. The point of remembering the Holocaust is not the numbers of people who were killed, 6 million Jews. Over 25 million died in the war dwarfing that figure. It is surely the systemic attempt to annihilate a people, a culture.  We remember in spite of the deniers. We see pictures. Germany recently released the Holocaust files which are being or have been digitized allowing descendants to find out what happened to their ancestors. We remember.

To what end. Humanity has repeated similar actions again and again. Rwanda. Sudan. Serbia/Croatia. Congo. Uganda. Kenya. To name a few. The memory of the Holocaust has not stopped these ravages from taking place. I doubt  someone is sitting there saying, oh yeah, cannot annihilate those people, remember the Holocaust. And yet, we insist on remembering. The only country that has been truly affected by the memory are the Germans, who are still paying a price in spite of the reparations they have done. Should we not forget and let go the past? Let Germany and Germans off the hook?

My Painting:

Anger

The spoon is filled with anger being fed to the person. The cancer cells grow and multiply turning red as they grow larger. Not good. We had run out of time by the time the discussion turned to my painting.

We talked a bit about how we react to things. You always have a choice to not get angry. This does not mean you repress it. You just do not get angry. Anger escalates. My brother told me a story during his last visit. He was driving somewhere when he decided to take a break and exited at one of those roadside gas stations. He went to the washroom when this young man stormed in and started swearing at him. When asked what was wrong he exclaimed that my brother had cut him off on the highway a while back.  He threatened to beat up my brother.  Talk about road rage. My brother looked at him and said he sees one of two results from this. Either the young can go around bragging that he beat up a man over 60 years old, or he will have to explain to others how an over 60 year old man beat him up. The man calmed down somewhat and started talking to my brother about his problems. What often triggers an emotion is not the root cause of it.

I used to work with this wonderful lady who was in charge of customer service. I was amazed by her poise on the phone. Nothing rankled her. She was always calm. Until she put the customer on hold. She would bang the phone down, let go a litany of swear words. She would research the subject, and pick up the phone calm as ever to deal with the customer. She has not changed. She still deals with events in the same way. Mesmerizing.

Anger is a basic human emotions. Men and women handle it totally differently. We shy away from it. Frown on it. Write about it. What else can we do?

Three people from last week did not show up, two new people showed up. Except they are not new since the moderator and one of the participants know them. Hey, how are you, long time. And so on. This is a safe place after all. Five women and me. The ratio is right again.

Today’s challenge: represent your support network. Is it internal? External? Faith based? What does your armour look like? Armour? There is the battle cry again. A subject for a different day at the sessions. No armour here, though others do not appear to have any problems with the concept.

I had a lot of trouble with this one. Kept looking for the inner child to show itself. Damn child stayed well hidden. Probably behind its armour. No, no armour here, and none for the inner child.

I took a lot of notes again. The session started with people talking a bit about themselves and what they are feeling. I was quiet. Not sure if I am ready for that yet. Which, you have to admit is bizarre. Here I am laying myself bare in a very public blog, but have difficulty expressing myself in an atmosphere of trust and safety.

There is a lot of anger. Different people expressing it. Same discussion as last week. Anger at people who do not seem to understand. Anger at the inconsiderate nature of people. Anger at being abandoned by close friends who cannot handle the change.

There is also a certain amount of condescension. A safety blanket of sorts. It manifests itself in subtle ways. An interesting aspect of belonging to a private club. We are invited to go shopping, but we turn it down. We don’t need to go shopping, we are not materialistic. The same sentiments were expressed last week, by a different person. Again, no one objected to the sentiment, or even commented. There appeared to be tacit agreement. Some of us are more empathetic than others. People are mainly concerned about themselves. Life is too short for us to worry about others. Are we being patronizing to those who are unlucky enough to not have been enlightened by having cancer?

One person talked about losing long standing friendships. The relationship has changed. Shopping is of no interest. Life has changed, but the friends are still looking for the old relationship. They do not seem to come to terms with the changes and how they will affect things.

One friend wanted to talk about the view from the other side. It was not to be. I was disappointed. Wondering what that was. I will have to take it up with my friends and see what comes out. It should make for an interesting conversation. This participant did not have the energy to listen to the other side, or the patience, or anything else. She listens to her friends talk about things that are no longer important to her, but are still important to her friends. Frustrating.

How much accommodation should we accord our friends? How much should be accommodated by our friends?

People need to do some self-reflection without it being started by someone else. I am not sure I agree with that one. We all need prompting from something or someone to wake us up. Look at us, the enlightened ones. We are self-reflecting, but only because we have been forced into it. Life would have gone on as before otherwise.

Comparisons were made to the Wizard of Oz. We keep looking externally for confirmation that we have brains, hearts, courage. All are within us, if we were only to look. There are lots of parts in our insides which take a lifetime to know. I think that is way too optimistic.

The Paintings:

She used green in her painting, even though she does not like green. Never wears it. She radiates from the inside out, drawing a cell, or is it an amoeba, or  a jelly fish. She does not know why she drew what she drew. It looks like a vulnerable inside protected by a more hard core exterior. Green representing spring, rebirth, new life. After all the feedback, and there was lots all centered on the protective shell, which still allowed the inside to radiate outwards, the participant said that what it says to her is that “I am here for you”. It begged the question, who is you? Sorry, what she meant to say is, “I am here for me”. That is an interesting thought that goes back to the original discussion we had about it being about you, and how much accommodation should be given and so on.

Water makes a return appearance. In this case it represents the friends and relatives who are there to support you. Surrounding you with calm and serenity. The oyster is her protected by the shell that is open to accept the radiation that is coming from the sun and others. Allowing her to help others and give of herself. The oyster represents purity and happiness.

A connection between the oyster and having to look deep within yourself? The expression that was used, I think was diving deep. Probably the most interesting comment of the day was given by the oyster: Give yourself permission to ask for what you need.

Strength comes from within, while we are still nurturing others. Should we be more careful when communicating with others? Do we risk upsetting the equilibrium of relationships by being too open? This participant seems to think so. She painted her need to look inside for her support. Finds it exhausting to look outside. Energy sucking at ts best when you have to look outside for your strength. She painted herself as the centre radiating inner strength while protected from the outside by a thick wall. An internal light that needs protection from the  outside.

Six circles. She does not want to talk about her painting. Could not get into it.But she is pushed just a bit to tell more. She talks about the colours:

• Blue=loyalty
• Green=being grounded
• Purple=creativity
• Yellow=assertiveness
• Grey=reflectiveness

There was a lot of comment on this painting. Circles leaning into one another, the colours bleeding into each other. A relationship between all the characteristics that are important to her. This has less to do with strength and support, and more to do with expectations of others. The conversation turns to support for the participant. She has done well to express herself. better than she thought. She wanted to draw balloons, but did not feel she a good enough artist to pull that off. As it is, are these asteroids colliding, or flowers?

She has grown up with negative messages, struggling to find her voice. Railing against all the negative messages that are pointed in her direction, She sent an eMail to someone cutting off the relationship . Should we cut people off? At what point? For what reason?

One participant did not wish to participate She drew three pages, participated in the conversations, but nothing abut her paintings. I hope she comes around next week. She may be robing us from an experience.

Where does strength come from. I have written about this before. Inner strength, I feel, is fed from outside support and help. Faith is definitely a big player. As are conversations. this bog which gives me a venue for dealing with thoughts. I guess that means that comments from readers are also very valuable.

My painting represents me at the centre, fed by my Faith (the nine pointed star), and my friends and relatives surrounding me. How great an artist am I! The brown stuff at the bottom is me being grounded. There was a lot of conversation around this. Maybe because I went first. Does my Faith bring people in to support? It should make for an interesting conversation, the role of Faith in one’s life. Whether the Faith in you attracts others,  or others create the Faith in you. Another day.

I said  at the beginning that there is a lot of anger in the room. Not at each other. Another item that came up was the giving nature of some of the people in the room. I asked everyone in the room if they were givers. All saw themselves as being givers, a couple hesitated a bit saying only part of the time.

The book, AntiCancer talks about the C personality. Among other things, it mentions that one of its characteristics is that they are generally givers and not takers. I brought the book in. I had made reference to it the previous week. One of the participants was reading the section, which I had bookmarked, detailing our personalities. Interesting reaction,a s one person disagreed with this entirely. Not believable, she said My cousin Ruja said the same thing when I was first diagnosed. She says it makes us more vulnerable. In a room of six people who have cancer, 6 people are more or less givers.

One person said that people would probably not fess up to being takers. Does this make takers lesser people? No judgments here. I asked a free question, allowing people to answer any way they wished to. There is a negative connotation to being a taker, but really and truly, no judgments here.

I was discussing this with Leslie, who wondered if the giving is hiding those other emotions. Could it be hiding the anger that is already there? Is it masking some other feelings that are just waiting to get out and manifest themselves?

An interesting two hours.

To celebrate or not?

We celebrate every year. Make a production of it. I usually carve multiple pumpkins, some with two faces. Takes a lot of patience to carve all these faces and make them unique and scary. It is fun and well worth the effort.

The second Halloween in our current house was a big production. I bought Christmas lights, white paper table cloths, borrowed a plastic snowman from Nancy and rented a Santa costume. I laid the white table cloths down covering the front garden making it look like snow. Strung the Christmas lights across the front garden. Borrowed Devin’s ghetto blaster to blast Christmas carols through the night. Janet came home to a house lit like house on fire. I am sure you could see it from space.

As the kids showed up, I would bound out of the house yelling Merry Christmas. Scared the hell out of them until Janet and Leslie stopped me from doing that. SO I sat on the front porch with my Santa bag welcoming the children. Poor kids. They kept telling me how much they loved me, how good they were. We almost felt bad for them. The confusion in their voices was palpable.

We have gone to David Powell’s house after our kids stopped coming. Arlin and I would take Jack out and smoke our cigars. Jack is very popular. Everyone knows him. He was a Halloween machine collecting two pillowcases full of candy. We would go back to David’s for dinner and to pilfer through Jack’s pillow cases. Someone had to save him from all that candy.

Our previous house was a more communal affair. We decorated the front yard and got ready for the Halloweeners. We had drinks with our neighbours while we handed out the treats. It was a big party. Ann and Frank, Valerie and Chad were our neighbours. One big family. It was a lot of fun, no matter how cold it was. We miss that.

We made sure Devin celebrated every year. He was dressed as a giant pumpkin one  year. He wanted to God another year. A sheep. Stingray. Bloody chef. You get the idea. Lots of costumes. I would take him door to door. It was lots of fun.

All this to say that Halloween has always played a big part in our lives. A bit like chehar shambe souri (ask your Persian friends) but a lot more fun.

Halloween this year will not be the same. I do not have the energy to carve all those pumpkins. I cannot be exposed to all those kids, just in case one of them has H1N1 and does not know it yet. I cannot open and close the front door all night either. A whole bunch of no’s that add up to no Halloween this year.

We have been discussing it all week. To do or not to do. It was a go as late as this morning.

Carys, my four year old niece has a temperature. Started last night. A temperature of 39. Leslie took over some Tylenols for her to help control things a bit. Her temperature has been going up and down all day since. She heard on the radio with of our Health Officers that a child with flu symptoms right now has H1N1. Carys has H1N1. She has not been here for a while, so no danger there.

It just emphasizes the dangers of exposes myself to a while bunch of children who may (or not) have H1N1.

No Halloween this year.

I cried.

I attended a Relaxation and Visualisation session at Wellspring this afternoon. There were six of us in the room at various stages of the journey. The session was split into three sections, relaxation, open discussion, and visualisation.

The subject of journaling came up. Two people mentioned that they were journaling.  I mentioned that I am blogging, a remark which was met with some silence followed by comments of not having a computer, or being computer illiterate. Journaling is a private affair, while this blog lays all bare.

I made a decision very early on to open this blog. As I have indicated in past entries, the results have been amazing in so many ways. I am truly astounded at the responses I am getting.

One of these comes from the very eloquent Sharon Singer just prior to my second chemo session in which she reminded me of all the people who are holding me during this process.

Janet mentioned in a conversation that she believes all this support results in a human positive energy current that is a web of energy created by all the people who are praying and thinking and talking about you. This came out in a conversation with one of her co-workers whose mother had cancer. That whatever happens outside is as important as what happens inside.

During this afternoon’s session, I was surprised at what appears to me a dearth of support for the other participants. This may be on purpose of course, since people tend to remove themselves from society. A huge quest for privacy.

I am now convinced that a huge part if the inner strength, such as it is, that I am exhibiting is the result of all the support I am getting from everyone, for which, I am eternally grateful.