Whoosh - down another Rabbit Hole - well maybe just a Bunny Hole!

I've shared my personal intention with you in the past but at this time it bears repeating given that the experience of having slid down yet another rabbit hole since my last post.  When praying, especially intercessory prayers through the Saints to God, we typically articulate what we are praying for.  Many people know for example that St. Anthony is the Patron Saint of lost items and many people ask his help when trying to locate a missing item.

Some of you may be chuckling, or even scoffing, but I can tell you that in some divine way, it does work.

As I've practiced Ignatian Spirituality based on the life and works of St. Ignatius of Loyola, he promoted 'praying with indifference'.  Well just what does that mean you might ask!  In my own case, as an example, rather than praying for a cure for my illness,  I pray:

"FOR TOTAL ACCEPTANCE OF GOD'S WILL FOR ALL ASPECTS OF MY LIFE, WITH A WISE AND UNDERSTANDING HEART."  (my intention whenever praying directly to God/Jesus or indirectly through the Saints)

For me, this form of prayer removes me from the driver's seat in my car of life and squarely places God (and Jesus) into the seat of responsibility for happens to me.  

As my faith and trust grows, the easier the ride becomes with this past week being a case in point.

Since Thanksgiving I've felt like I'm retaining extra fluid in my abdomen and legs, then further developing a tender spot on the inside of my right calf that started turning pink.  Rather than leave it and possibly get caught in the melee of after hours or the urgent care centre, I thought the prudent thing to do was call my family doc.  Had I felt the need to attend an after hours clinic, all I could imagine is the look on the poor faces of the care team, wondering just what to do with a case as complicated as mine and most likely being shuffled off to Emerg anyway.

While my doc had no appointments for another 2 weeks (I have one tomorrow from a previous booking), on asking to speak to someone I was able to leave a message on the nurses' line.  A call back in less than 30 minutes led to going in at 2:30 the same day, a close examination and a referral for an ultrasound for 4 p.m. on the off chance that I had developed a blood clot.  Off I toddled to KGH radiology, had the ultrasound and prepared to head home.

The nurse and doc came in to say that in fact I did have a blood clot meaning the folks in Emerg would be waiting for my arrival to start treatment immediately. I, in the meantime had my coat on ready to head home, thinking it was just a good measure of precaution given the risk and seriousness had a clot been found.

All this background to tell you that I found myself observing my own reactions to this information within the context of my personal intention.  It was quite profound to say the least.  What, in the past, would have been an immediate and vertical trip into anxiety orbit, complete with an impending visit from the Grim Reaper even though Halloween was a few days away, along with my life flashing before my eyes, in fact was a reaction so calm, I almost wondered who was actually listening to this explanation and what they had done with my old self.

 Even as I write this, right now, my heart remains airy and light with an overall sense of 'being in the right hands' regardless of the outcome.

The greatest risk, as we all know, is that a blood clot might move, or a piece break off, travelling in the express lanes to the lungs which would create a serious traffic jam in my overall bodily function, potentially even sending me to the scrap heap.  We passed the basic information on to family simply in case of any sudden event, that they wouldn't be caught totally off guard.  I know and understand that cancer patients are at a higher risk of clots than the normal population but had no idea why.  The explanation provided by the resident in Emerg was that individuals living with 'active' cancer also live with their bodies in a constant state of inflammation. That insight better helps me understand the hills and valleys that we traverse while managing a chronic illness.  In my opinion, one of the most important aspects is to become intimately familiar with our own bodies and to listen to that little voice in our gut that suggests we take action if and as necessary.  Ignoring or putting off can open up rabbit holes much larger than we anticipated and negatively impact our quality of life.  Again, going back to this case in point, at least the clot is behind my right knee, not up in the groin area which apparently can increase the overall risk.  It's interesting how, as we place greater trust in our own higher power, that we also seem to gain greater confidence and trust in ourselves to take direction from within.

As my days have become quiet, with many less distractions, I'm gaining a sense of peace in slowly going through and catching up on long ignored small tasks.  Calling people, for whatever reason, or rather the inability to call, continues to mystify me.

It's a relatively short list, all people I'm most fond of, and yet it's like my hand is paralyzed, totally unable to pick up that hand held black instrument that will connect me to these wonderful friends.  My little plan of getting it done by the end of October didn't work so I will set a new deadline of mid November.  Of course the extremely gorgeous weather will be yet another distraction, enticing my to try to get outdoors and soak up the warmth and sunshine while I can.  Hey, wait a minute, who says I can't drag out one of those plastic Adirondack chairs, settle myself nicely in a snug jacket or blanket and use my other hand to press those little buttons that will magically put me in touch with individuals I've promised myself I would call. Could just be a plan over the next few days.

Another long ignored activity for me is on the creative side of my brain.  For as long as I can remember I have dabbled in various crafts and creations, never taking a deep seated, long term interest in any one thing, but rather trying this, that and the other thing.  Maybe it was just to see if I could do whatever the project was, and whether yes or no, continue to move on to the next thing.  The interesting thought that comes to mind is the dual nature of my brain related to such things.  On one hand, if I was successful, I didn't necessarily need to continue proving myself (??? not sure where that thought came from) and could easily move on.  On the other hand, if I wasn't pleased with the outcome, the ease with which I could turn my back and look for something new could surprise me.  As I ponder that, it seems that there were not too many crafty things that didn't turn out.

 Where the danger lies for me is in the vast jungle of the kitchen that includes both cooking and baking.  I once used a clay baker to make a chicken which didn't turn out perfect first time, only to banish that poor instrument to the basement, sadly destined for the purge pile.  Another time, as a teen, I tried to make a homemade apple pie - I can still remember the thick, chalky pastry that was intended to be a light, flaky crust.  That's it, never another pie to be made by my hands and I don't believe I ever have.  How stubborn is that!  Although, to offer some small defence, not having a sweet tooth didn't help matters much.  As well, a self proclaimed domestic diva, I have never considered as an asset. I'm always amazed at how people a) actually enjoy time in the kitchen and find it almost a 'play time' and b) happily go through recipes like a child with a new toy looking for something new to make.  Couple that with trying new recipes on company - well you might as well give me a sedative before I even begin!

God sure has a sense of humour!  In the midst of this writing, I heard the mail person drop our correspondence into the mail box.  Yes, we still have home delivery although having had to use a community mailbox for 15 years, it doesn't hold the same emotional attachment for me as so many others.  The funny thing is that in today's mail is a thank you letter from our dear, dear friends at the Sisters of Providence Motherhouse (yes nuns)

for a recent visit and delivery of believe it or not, home made treats - my specialty - home made peanut brittle.

Enclosed with the letter is a recipe for Best Rum Cake Ever.  Here I'm thinking 'Oh my, after my ranting I'm actually going to have to try my hand at baking.  After all, if the nuns are sending a recipe, I'd better try it out'.  It goes something like this:

List of ingredients and then the directions for making the cake.
Before you start, sample the rum for quality.  Good, isn't it?  Now go ahead.  Select a large mixing bowl, measuring cup, etc.  Check the rum again.  It must be just right.  To be sure rum is of the highest quality, pour one level cup of rum into a glass and drink it as fast as you can.  Repeat.  With an electric mixer, heat 1 cup of butter is a large fluffy bowl.  Add 1 teaspoon of thugar and beat again.  Meanwhile, make sure that the rum is of the highest quality.   Try another cup.

Add two arge leggs, 2 cups fried suit and beat till high.  If druit gets thick in beaters, just pry it loose with a drewscriver.

Sample the rum again, checking for tenscisticity.  Next. sift 3 cups of pepper or sale (it really doesn't matter).  Sample the rum again.

Sift 1/2 pint of lemon juice.  Fold in chopped butter and strained nuts.  Add 1 babble spoon of brown thugar, or whatever colour you can find.  Wix mell.  Crease oven and turn cake pan to 350 grredees.  Now pour the whole mess into the coven and ake.  Check the rum again - and go to ged.

Oh my gosh, the surprises that come our way when we are open and have even just a little sense of humour.   Despite the place I am in life these days, one thing I can say is that I'm learning to take things far less seriously, far less to heart, far less personally.  Rather than thrashing about in the sea of life, being panic stricken for all that might happen, I'm enjoying a rather leisurely, sun soaked ride on a full length flotation device, gently bobbing along leaving me carefree while enjoying the passing of each new day.

I plan to share an initiative that we've taken on as a parish community in sponsoring a refugee family from Syria.  My personal involvement will be modest at best but while I was discerning what role I might take, again, the lighthearted feeling that comes with doing something outside oneself, catching the crest of a much larger, global wave of need is compelling.

 Much like the story of the little boy on the beach of thousands of starfish, patiently throwing them, one by one, back to the sea.  Someone comes along only to comment that there are far too many to make a difference, to which the boy replied, as he tossed another back in the water 'It made a difference to that one'.  And so we too have the opportunity to make a difference 'to one family' and remain open to how we will accomplish that goal.

Until next time, enjoy the mild weather, stay open to what surprises life may hold for you and remember, even during the tough times, especially during the tough times, that's when we are closest to God.

Take care and God Bless,
Hugs
Liz

Liz Dobbs Jones
dobbsjones@gmail.com

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