The Best Laid Plans...

In rereading my last post I see that the subject matter that has pretty much taken over my world has already been shared with you - a significant mobility challenge.  Having said that there have been some interesting developments along the way.  I can tell you that being in great pain to take a single step can be more debilitating than many other possible ailments!

Given my history, in rapid succession, I met with my family doctor who agreed that an X-ray was in order, followed by an already scheduled return visit to the orthopaedic surgeon who confirmed all was in order with what he had done during surgery last summer.  His conclusion though, was that even though nothing showed on the X-ray - he was ordering a cat scan to get a better sense if anything was going on 'inside the bones'.  The reason for this is that nothing showed on the X-ray last June just before my vertebrae burst like an internal fireworks of historic proportions.

An appointment the next day with my Gynae Oncologist evoked emotions that were surprising to both of us - tears bubbling up and spilling over with fear and discouragement.  Try as I might to hold it back, I felt like a five year old with the corners of my mouth sagging with 10 pound weights.

 The oncologist's comment was that in our time together she had not witnessed this emotional reaction in me - remember, the big things are usually my strength to endure, and asked if I needed assistance through any emotional or social supports.  We reviewed the options, all of which were on the 'got it' vs. 'need it' list including social work, psychiatrist, spiritual direction not to mention friends and family.

What crossed my mind like unexpected clouds on a sunlit day was how entering the clinic brought to reality my current life experience.  Having medically incurable cancer lingers in the shadows threatening the hope and optimism as we keep stoking the flame of life.

We agreed that if a cat scan was being ordered, and further radiation was to be inflicted anyway, I might as well have the full meal deal and include the chest and abdominal area along with the back and pelvis. The coordination between two seemingly unrelated specialities brought me a sense of warmth and protection that helps keep the demons at bay.  They communicated directly, I've received a call that the order was going in and that rather than wait for results, I will have an appointment with the surgeon directly after the cat scan to review the results.
They even asked my preference as to who I might want to deliver the news of the results.  Interestingly, I don't have fear of the results, just a lingering curiosity about why yet another rabbit hole has opened up to require the test at all.

This brings me to an experience in the midst of the medical merry go round of the past couple of weeks.  A friend invited me to consider attending a silent weekend retreat for women at the Manresa Jesuit Centre in Pickering from April 4-6th.  Imagine me, going without talking from Friday evening until Sunday at noon.  One of the main attracting features for me was that it was based on Ignatian Spirituality which has been entering my world at an increasing pace, from many directions, made easier of course given that our charismatic Pope Francis is a Jesuit which order of priests was founded by St. Ignatius of Loyola.
 Overall the weekend was a welcome respite from even my much slower day to day life providing an opportunity to reflect on life in ways not otherwise readily available.

On the way to the retreat my friend explained that her hair dresser would be meeting us and she has attended these retreats for a number of years even though she's not Catholic.  The more interesting part that my friend mentioned was, inevitably, this girl found someone at the retreat whom she 'had to pray over'.  Yup, you guessed it - that inevitable person happened to be yours truly.

At some point on the weekend, Debbie the hairdresser discretely broke the silence with her offer of prayer.  Sunday morning during our final period of reflection and personal prayer, we found our way to my room where Debbie promptly went down on one knee, put her arms around me and prayed more by way of a conversation with God than any pre scripted writings.

Did my back instantly feel better? I wish I could say that it did.  For our closing lunch I still walked from the main residence hall to the dining building with my trusted cane easing into each step gingerly.  Something notable though was how many people commented on me getting rid of the cane now that we were in approved vocal mode.  What I can tell you is that the next morning, Monday, April 7th I was able to report to my orthopaedic surgeon at our appointment that the searing pain in my lower right sacral area had lifted literally overnight and I did not feel the need for my cane.

Well not quite this agile!

I explained what had occurred and he encouraged me to continue with whatever might help to ease the pain.  The rest of the muscles are totally seized up, likely compensating for the initial problem so off we go to physiotherapy and hydrotherapy in the hopes of improving my mobility. And all my best laid plans of exercise remain at the roadside pending a noticeable improvement in my current condition.

This past weekend was layered with many family activities that almost needed to be sorted out and dealt out like a deck of cards.  My son Matt's daughter, precious little Ella was coming to visit for almost a week, Mike was off to Toronto for an event, my step daughter Nathalie returning from university for a few days and I had signed up for a day long seminar on Gyney cancer after which I was heading to visit Matt and Ella.

What I learned from the day long presentations was not so much the information that was provided by powerpoint and panel discussion but rather the sense of a self imposed isolation I had created for myself by choosing not to  participate in any cancer related groups or support networks.  It was a surprise in some ways given my determination to live my life the best way possible without being identified by my illness.  What I hadn't realized was the validation of many of my feelings only possible through the interaction with others in similar circumstances.

 It was comforting in some way to see the faces around the room all of whom shared the experience of having to relinquish the most intimate of their female anatomy.  Even more importantly, there is a germane sense of bonding that takes place simply by being together in a room for a day openly discussing so many aspects of our type of cancers. It's kind of like a club that you'd rather not be part of but might have to grudgingly consider joining.

I can't close this post without giving you the Readers Digest version of time with our grandkids whom I have made a priority at this time of my life. Those living closest, Ella at 2 1/2 along with our 5 and a half grandchildren are precious and a welcome source of exhaustion any time they find their way to our house.

Two weeks ago we had Ayden (5) and Azlyn (3) for the weekend where we went to a retirement him for dinner to visit our dear friend Doris who at 92 was delighted with the company and entertained the residents.  We spent a rainy day building a Lego city which has only recently been somewhat demolished by a curious 2 year old.

Ella and I spent a couple of hours 'floating boats' of fallen twigs by tossing them into the creek behind our home.  This has been a long tradition and I'm not sure who has more fun - the kids or grandma!

We also did spring cleaning in the playhouse at the bottom of our yard, carefully sweeping out cobwebs and winter debris.  Ella prepared a salad for me in the kitchen sink of dried leaves and twigs.

We later did some cleaning and dinner preparation all with little shouts of 'I do it' followed by bursts of energy available only to very young children.  A good lesson in patience and practice of truly 'smelling the roses' even if sometimes the 'roses' were disguised as smelly diapers!

Thank you for allowing me to share at least a little of my grandma time with you, it's one of those life experiences that I couldn't appreciate until I lived it.  That being said, I've always gravitated to the very young and the very old without ever really examining my motivations for doing so.  It's something that originates in the heart and comes very naturally, something like the gifts I've talked about before that are as easy as breathing.

It's been a busy couple of weeks in many ways and so during this week leading up to Easter, the most important feast day of the Christian calendar, I hope to find:
Time for solitude, reflection and rest.
Time for thoughts of gratitude for all the wonderful people who make up the tapestry of my life.  Time for prayer to thank God for the blessings He continues to bring to me and my family in ways we could not imagine.

Thank you for your continued support and prayers.  As I practice my 'prayers of indifference' the Ignatian way, I'm becoming more accepting that my own best laid plans may in fact change dramatically as I allow God to do His work in my life.  While uncertain, it carries an undercurrent of excitement that is welcoming.   So be it.

All the best and to those who celebrate, Happy Easter.

Until next time.......
Hugs
Liz
'Prayers wrapped in faith and sent with love are the greatest gifts we can receive.