September - More Like New Year's Than January

Are the days going by more quickly for you or is it just me?  I'm not sure which of those manufactured laws fits this situation, I know it's not Murphy's law where if something can go wrong it will.  In fact, I choose not to subscribe to that one at all.  What a way to set yourself up for sadness and disappointment.  Like Eeyore looking at a glass half empty, dragging himself around in a perennial state of discouragement.

Can you imagine living your entire life like that?  I guess reading my last two posts, one might get the impression that I was heading that way although I seemed to have gained Herculean strength and lifted that anvil off my chest to free up my mood.  It's quite amazing how light your step can be despite looking like the Pillsbury Dough Girl when your heart is cared for by angels playing a harp like tune on the strings attached to the various aspects of your life.


In the past couple of weeks I have gone against my own self imposed rule of not poking around on the internet as it relates to metastatic endometrial cancer.  You see the random itch I'd developed mainly in my feet last fall, has steadily increased and if you can imagine someone tickling you incessantly until you're almost mad, you might get the idea of the intensity.  I also had an appointment with my family doc last week where we reviewed the blood work done in July which I thought was clear.  There was, however, one marker as it related to liver function that was elevated well beyond the normal range which could signal an issue combined with the itch sending me into a slide.

 Instead of just riding it to the bottom and picking myself up and dusting myself off, I grasped at the roots and branches protruding from the sides of the rabbit hole offering a false sense of knowledge or security - that being articles on the internet.  Despite feeling relatively well emotionally, a haze of obsession is clouding my thoughts once again as to the real state of affairs with my health.  After all it's been three years since my first surgery, it's been two years since my back surgery and the subsequent discovery of the metastases to my liver and while I could remain in this stable state indefinitely, it's easy to start imagining all sorts of outcomes in the absence of information.  My physician has suggested that if the blood test remains in nose bleed territory (my words, not hers) then we will consider an ultrasound to get a general sense of whether I'm sautéing onions or bacon in my liver.  I couldn't help though, dwelling at times, on whether our visits with family and friends in August might be the last one we have thereby creating a sense of melancholy mixed with the profound joy of spending time together.

Mike and I have both returned to treatments of Acupuncture with Dr. Cao, whom I went to during my entire course of chemo and radiation treatment.  We've been twice, Mike for his back, me for my itch and we're hopeful that a medical practice that has survived 5000 years may in fact bring some relief rather than just popping more pills.

We go again tomorrow and understand the concept that while it's definitely NOT the never, never plan, it does take a few treatments close together to starting achieving the desired result.


Since returning from vacation, I have also started to pay attention to the commitment I'd made to the dietician I saw in early August.  Can you believe that I told her I'd start my new routine that day, just before we were about to embark on our mini epic trip around the province, lavishly accepting the food and wine being offered at every stop?  Where's the eraser to wipe out that type A response and replace it with a more reasonable B or C?  In any case, as of last Monday, no make it Tuesday, I've not touched that half open bottle of wine in the fridge and I've done a pretty good job of not putting anything but water in my mouth after dinner.

At mealtimes I'm also reducing the starch/sugar combo as much as possible in an effort to shed a few layers of the puff pastry currently lining my middle like a warm croissant covered with melting butter.

While I've been most diligent in going to the pool at the Y for my daily hour and a half of  'march and float', I've also been going to my friend Carol Ann's outdoor, heated pool.  Perched at the top of the hill in Barriefield, it's like being in some mini mountaintop oasis, with heated temperatures hovering in the range of 87 degrees.  With most of the pool being deeper than my gargantuan 5 ft. 2 inch height, I can easily tread water without touching bottom and can simply bop around for upwards of 1 1/2 to 2 hours.  After last weekend's cool and rainy weather, one would think, 'well that's it, time to close the pool'.

Not so with Carol Ann!  In fact this week promises to be so nice we could be drawn into the fantasy that we're back in July or August.  Knowing though, it's the middle of September, I feel an effervescent sense of the joy of play, like skipping school and heading off to the local watering hole to cool off.


I don't know about you but the arrival of September seems more like the start of a new year than January given the nature of change in pretty much everyone's life.  We all turn the page of the calendar, put on our imaginary uniforms, adjust the blinders to the matters at hand and start back into routines we'd worked hard to cast off all summer.   A new session on Catholic Faith Development started last Tuesday at our church which promises to be relevant and interesting.  I've also signed up for a workshop entitled 'Forming Intentional Disciples' on November 28th.  While there is a book to support the workshop that we are encouraged to read ahead of time, at this point it seems to present much more as a textbook than an engrossing read.

That said, a couple of friends and I have decided to create our own little, one book, book club to ensure we get the reading done and have some meaningful discussion about the contents in order to make the best of the experience.

The final project that I'm taking on in this fall season is to learn and relearn my grade school French.  Since two of our grandkids are in French immersion and one has just been enrolled in French School, it only makes sense to make the effort to communicate with them in their second language.  I recall, while in high school, coming home and suggesting to my Dad that we converse only in French.

He was, after all, an accomplished linguist, fully fluent in four languages being English, French, German and Hungarian.  Sad though, you know, how prejudice and bias continues to colour our world.  Once, a number of years ago my Dad was elected as President of a small social club.  One individual had the audacity to openly state that Dad could not be President as they couldn't understand anything he said (after being in Canada for 50+ years and being university educated).  Leave it to him, Dad just calmly looked the fellow straight in the eye and replied "At least when I make a mistake, I make it in four languages, not one."  What a fabulous response!

Well it's time to consider heading outdoors into this glorious blue sky, sun filled day and soak up what we have left of the kiss of nature's warmth on our cheeks.  How blessed we are in spite of all that is going on in  the world around us.  Until next time, take care of yourself, give thanks every day for at least three things that went well in your life and offer gratitude for all that you enjoy.

Thank you for taking the time to read this message and I hope the Holy Spirit has spoken to you in some small way that will positively impact your life.  Take care and God Bless,

Liz

dobbsjones@gmail.com

"Prayers wrapped in faith and sent with love are the greatest gifts we can receive'.