Imagine for a moment that it is Sunday lunchtime and instead of placing a small, entire, new potato into your mouth, you mistakenly push your fork into a live coal instead. As soon as the coal touches your lips and tongue you realise your error and desperately reach for a glass of water. This is akin to the sensation experienced by the small crop of ulcers I am growing inside my mouth. I've been swilling a lot of cold water recently, not to mention enjoying a suck-cession of lollipops.
These are another of the recognised side effects of the 'chemo'. The irony is that the onset of this problem occurred during the two week break between successive 28 day drug cycles. These ulcers are showing little sign of healing and my concern is that they are still around when I start the next cycle. Meanwhile eating; whether it be new potatoes or porridge, is proving to be an unpleasant experience - and as most of you will know, eating has long been a favourite hobby of mine.
To speak of happier times - I have been busy as well. Bodenham arboretum (near Kidderminster) with Kate and Leon on Sunday, Westonbirt arboretum (near Tetbury) with Mary and Pete on Monday and Upton Warren Nature Reserve (near Bromsgrove) with Dave for a few hours birding on Monday - autumnal compensations courtesy of the natural world.
Meanwhile Gerd continues to ask important, probing questions. He says that Steve Jobs was quoted on German radio as saying, "Cancer for me is a useful instrument to decide on the important things for my life". You can see that this is a re-translation, English to German to English - but the meaning is clear and Gerd asks whether it is the same for me.
The answer is a definite 'yes'. A pattern has emerged in terms of the things that are now more important; friends and family relationships and experiencing the natural world. I increasingly want to spend time visiting, talking, walking, birding, botanising. I want to know more about buildings, heritage and art as well. These interests were there before but perhaps more obscured by other 'wants'. I have less 'to do' but have never been busier.
But I don't exist in a constant state of minute-by-minute awareness of my mortality. Steve Jobs had perhaps a more aggressive and perilous cancer than mine. There is a struggle taking place between a heightened sense of living-in-the-moment and the resumption of a normal existence.
However, there are always plenty of reminders of the new realities I face - like painful ulcers in one of the most sensitive parts of the body - but when you are helped to identify a shoveler duck for the first time or see the delicate, rust-coloured foliage of a narrow-leafed (Raywood) ash, there is then an appreciation of beauty, complexity and depth - and a growing sense that because I can 'see' it, I am a part of it. This, for me, is a source of comfort.
Rod,
ReplyDeleteI'm very touched by actual post. I can see and feel the struggle ("There is a struggle taking place between a heightened sense of living-in-the-moment and the resumption of a normal existence")and have the strong feeling that you very positively use the advantages of this illness process. And I can grasp the pain you are having in your mouth - life seems to follow different rules and patterns in your situation.
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For me as being alright your way of describing your look on the world, the different paradigm you are living in, helps me to draw some conclusions also helpful for my life. thank you for that.
I feel you are on a good track, although being that ill as you are.
your friend from Heidelberg
Gerd
Rod,
ReplyDeletedo you allow another "probing" question, which keeps popping to my mind: what effects do you realise on your spiritual self? Mind you: do you believe in God, or in Buddha? or in some sort of spiritual driving force? Or do you say: there is nothing like that and this supports me to focus on my wordly life?
And what effect does your illness have on this spiritual side of yourself? do you get stronger in your beliefs? do you start do doubt, whether - may be there is someone like God? etc.
I decided that there is nobody like God, that we create him in our minds, because we can't grasp the complexity of life. And the idea of God is ofcourse helpful, but on the other hand, being sure, that life ends with its end, helps me to be much more decisive with my actual life on this planet.
If you don't want to get into all this sort of stuff, which occupies me in my daily life, don't worry, but as you may realise, I'm a curious person and I want to understand as much as I can and the dialogue with you has been very meaningful already, but I don't want to infringe on you (right expression?).
So just forget about answering if you don't like it.
so much for now, I'm in the process of cooking spaghetti bolognese for my family, I have to go back to the pots, wonder what it will taste like, between God and cancer illness.
Gerd
As you see, I also learnt to manage posting comments in the blog.
ReplyDeletemay be I AM a learning system ...................
I am struck by the amount and depth of detail involved in what is happening to your body: the cancer, the treatment and the after effects. It is very poignant. Not only that but how it is matched by an honest sharing of what is going on in your mind at times (with hints at other times) and what you are feeling. Then in this last post, but not just here, an overwhelming sense of appreciation of the things that matter in all their basic simplicity. Such a clear perspective of what matters along with the spiritual dimension of conscious intuition that you are inter-related to this natural world you describe and which you are becoming more and more sensitive to and appreciative of. (I am also mega impressed by your walks even if you weren't ill, but that's another story!)
ReplyDelete