I'm not boasting. Really.
But, I think I may be the new poster child for radiation.
The man in charge of directing this journey met with me this afternoon in his office. He could not believe how in tact my skin is at this particular part of the journey.
And that I was still swallowing without difficulty, unheard of. He was so pleased and surprised.
He should not be, he is one of His people, chosen and called out. A people who know about power and miracles, promises and fulfillment, a Father's love and tender care of His children.
But I know the one who is really directing this journey and He has everything under control. He is giving wisdom to the doctor. He is giving technical expertise to the technician. (every day I heard how "beautiful and wonderful" i do with each session).
And I can sense the support of those who have invested their time interceding for me and for my success. The side effects are minimal and some have appeared due to my own carelessness. I should know how important hydration is to the success of physical function.
However, I may have to employ Carina, to help Him out in the hair department, if we continue at the current pace. It may be one funky hairstyle at the end, but who knows.........maybe this will be the start of something new!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The Ninth Floor
We've become family here on the ninth floor.
Kay folds Bob's clothes that he has started in the morning, someone put them in the dryer, and she folds them into nice neat piles. He makes his meals, and puts most of his food away, but we do the rest, which he does not see. His wife Marsha is in the hospital now. He is very concerned. He is distracted. She has had intractable pain and had to go in to have an operation to stabilize the spine. And he hopes she will be able to resume her chemo and radiation. He loves her dearly and is a tremendous caregiver.
Marius and Monica left today. They were here for six months from St Croix. They were happy to go home. We hear them laughing in their room at night. It is good. He did well, and is always cheerful and encouraging to all.
Thad and Martha are here from Cape Cod. They are harvesting his stem cells and will give chemo. It was sudden. They thought he was having a stroke, but no, it was this. She is motherly and he is bald now and friendly. They tell about the bus route, the organic lunch place, interesting museums, good restaurants if you feel up to going out. They hear about Redeemer and they go. They will go again when they can. They have been here two months and expect to leave a month after I do.
Nate is here by himself. His young wife and daughter are in California. She can not come, she has to take care of their daughter. He has been here four times. He comes into the kitchen while we are all eating dinner and gets his Campbell's soup out of his cabinet to microwave. I say, "Nate, would you like to share our chicken?" Hesitantly, he accepts and then receives the green beans we send over. There's no one here to cook for him, and he is young, we share. He has been on other floors and knows others from previous visits. He feels comfortable with them.
Elize and Frank are across the hall. Frank is here for chemo and radiation. But after a week he has had a crisis. While leaving after a treatment, to get a cab he has a seizure. He is bleeding. It is an emergency. Back to urgent care and lines inserted and blood, hand pumped, as fast as it can go. "Call your children, this doesn't look good". Frank survives and is in ICU for days and today he will get very intricate surgery. We see the hand of God in this that they were not in the taxi when the bleed occurred. We have dinner with Elize and she recognizes that God has them here where world class doctors and nurses have saved his life and that He did not allow them to get in the taxi. We pray with her as we all leave, that God would strengthen Frank, give the surgeons great technical ability, that Elize would have peace and that Frank would again come back to the ninth floor.
Judy and Diane have joined the family recently. And Jeff and his sister came yesterday. We all meet in the kitchen in the morning and evening. Everyone checks in with each other. "How was your treatment today?" "Are you doing okay?" "Do you have any side effects?" "Has anyone seen Bob today?" "Elize, how is Frank today?" Sometimes we wear masks and gloves. Sometimes we wear wigs, or turbans, or hats. We exchange DVD's, offer each other ice cream, talk about how fantastic our accommodations are, how kind the staff is, exchange information that we have learned on line and are thankful for the doctors that we are involved with.
It comes quickly here. The sense of family. We say, here, here, no one is an atheist. Everyone believes in hope and the future. For ourselves and for each other.
Kay folds Bob's clothes that he has started in the morning, someone put them in the dryer, and she folds them into nice neat piles. He makes his meals, and puts most of his food away, but we do the rest, which he does not see. His wife Marsha is in the hospital now. He is very concerned. He is distracted. She has had intractable pain and had to go in to have an operation to stabilize the spine. And he hopes she will be able to resume her chemo and radiation. He loves her dearly and is a tremendous caregiver.
Marius and Monica left today. They were here for six months from St Croix. They were happy to go home. We hear them laughing in their room at night. It is good. He did well, and is always cheerful and encouraging to all.
Thad and Martha are here from Cape Cod. They are harvesting his stem cells and will give chemo. It was sudden. They thought he was having a stroke, but no, it was this. She is motherly and he is bald now and friendly. They tell about the bus route, the organic lunch place, interesting museums, good restaurants if you feel up to going out. They hear about Redeemer and they go. They will go again when they can. They have been here two months and expect to leave a month after I do.
Nate is here by himself. His young wife and daughter are in California. She can not come, she has to take care of their daughter. He has been here four times. He comes into the kitchen while we are all eating dinner and gets his Campbell's soup out of his cabinet to microwave. I say, "Nate, would you like to share our chicken?" Hesitantly, he accepts and then receives the green beans we send over. There's no one here to cook for him, and he is young, we share. He has been on other floors and knows others from previous visits. He feels comfortable with them.
Elize and Frank are across the hall. Frank is here for chemo and radiation. But after a week he has had a crisis. While leaving after a treatment, to get a cab he has a seizure. He is bleeding. It is an emergency. Back to urgent care and lines inserted and blood, hand pumped, as fast as it can go. "Call your children, this doesn't look good". Frank survives and is in ICU for days and today he will get very intricate surgery. We see the hand of God in this that they were not in the taxi when the bleed occurred. We have dinner with Elize and she recognizes that God has them here where world class doctors and nurses have saved his life and that He did not allow them to get in the taxi. We pray with her as we all leave, that God would strengthen Frank, give the surgeons great technical ability, that Elize would have peace and that Frank would again come back to the ninth floor.
Judy and Diane have joined the family recently. And Jeff and his sister came yesterday. We all meet in the kitchen in the morning and evening. Everyone checks in with each other. "How was your treatment today?" "Are you doing okay?" "Do you have any side effects?" "Has anyone seen Bob today?" "Elize, how is Frank today?" Sometimes we wear masks and gloves. Sometimes we wear wigs, or turbans, or hats. We exchange DVD's, offer each other ice cream, talk about how fantastic our accommodations are, how kind the staff is, exchange information that we have learned on line and are thankful for the doctors that we are involved with.
It comes quickly here. The sense of family. We say, here, here, no one is an atheist. Everyone believes in hope and the future. For ourselves and for each other.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Music
I walk out.
I walk down.
I hear music.
When I go down, I hear music. I'm surrounded with music.
First it was the skinny white kid playing all sort of drums. With his hands, his toes, his fingers. Sticks flying everywhere.
There is the old man playing the violin, sort of. The middle age black woman singing the Blues, with emotion. A hidden someone playing classical guitar, beautifully.
Today as I sat down , four wonderful black men magically appeared and did a wonderful redition of Stand By Me. The baritone was rich, the tenor, smooth, the base full and mellow. Everyone enjoyed the ride and we all rewarded our entertainers. And then off to the next car they went (even though we all wanted another song).
And tonight it was the bagpiper. Full regalia, tarten plaid skirt and all. The bagpipes echoing a haunting sound deep beneath the city. And for the last leg of today's journey, a lad on the bongo drums.
I'm surrounded by music.
I walk down.
I hear music.
When I go down, I hear music. I'm surrounded with music.
First it was the skinny white kid playing all sort of drums. With his hands, his toes, his fingers. Sticks flying everywhere.
There is the old man playing the violin, sort of. The middle age black woman singing the Blues, with emotion. A hidden someone playing classical guitar, beautifully.
Today as I sat down , four wonderful black men magically appeared and did a wonderful redition of Stand By Me. The baritone was rich, the tenor, smooth, the base full and mellow. Everyone enjoyed the ride and we all rewarded our entertainers. And then off to the next car they went (even though we all wanted another song).
And tonight it was the bagpiper. Full regalia, tarten plaid skirt and all. The bagpipes echoing a haunting sound deep beneath the city. And for the last leg of today's journey, a lad on the bongo drums.
I'm surrounded by music.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Everyday Epiphanies
The Lord is providing everyday epiphanies right before my eyes.
I open my bedroom curtains in the morning and look out onto this beautiful architecture. Do they make buildings as beautiful as this one filled with detail and grace? The journey is filled with lovely images.
I can peek at this church steeple from my window. Today at noon it's bells rang out a deep resounding notice that the day was moving forward.
This ornate iron, steel, glass and weathered green copper structure connects my building with the next. It is beautiful, someone created something not only utilitarian but graceful, detailed and gorgeous. The Empire State Building is spiraling upward behind the bridge.
Thank you Father, for these surrounding me with these wonderful visual glories.
I open my bedroom curtains in the morning and look out onto this beautiful architecture. Do they make buildings as beautiful as this one filled with detail and grace? The journey is filled with lovely images.
I can peek at this church steeple from my window. Today at noon it's bells rang out a deep resounding notice that the day was moving forward.
This ornate iron, steel, glass and weathered green copper structure connects my building with the next. It is beautiful, someone created something not only utilitarian but graceful, detailed and gorgeous. The Empire State Building is spiraling upward behind the bridge.
Thank you Father, for these surrounding me with these wonderful visual glories.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Food for the Journey
It's wonderful to be from a small community.
We know about each other and we care.
They have found out about my journey and have called my friends, Anne and Gail, to see what can be done, how could they help.
Food! Was the answer. She'll need soft and pureed food.
And so for the past week I have entertained visitors at 42, laden with small individual freezer packs of every kind of nutritious food that can be imagined. Soups, smoothies, mac and cheese, scalloped potatoes, veggies, lentils, and the list goes on.
The three freezers in the house are completely packed. And tomorrow will begin some of their migration down to the big city.
They came not only bringing sustenance, but smiles and well wishes, and prayers and books, cards and candles, and encouragement that when I return the ground will be soft and waiting for the trowel.
Lest any worry about the rest of the crew at 42 who will remain here in total despondency without their fearless maternal leader... my friend Susan has organized dinners to be baked and delivered at regular intervals. And I understand from the "white board" in my kitchen, that 9 1/2 will participate on Saturdays, cooking and generally entertaining the somewhat sad and lonely resident surgeon.
We know about each other and we care.
They have found out about my journey and have called my friends, Anne and Gail, to see what can be done, how could they help.
Food! Was the answer. She'll need soft and pureed food.
And so for the past week I have entertained visitors at 42, laden with small individual freezer packs of every kind of nutritious food that can be imagined. Soups, smoothies, mac and cheese, scalloped potatoes, veggies, lentils, and the list goes on.
The three freezers in the house are completely packed. And tomorrow will begin some of their migration down to the big city.
They came not only bringing sustenance, but smiles and well wishes, and prayers and books, cards and candles, and encouragement that when I return the ground will be soft and waiting for the trowel.
Lest any worry about the rest of the crew at 42 who will remain here in total despondency without their fearless maternal leader... my friend Susan has organized dinners to be baked and delivered at regular intervals. And I understand from the "white board" in my kitchen, that 9 1/2 will participate on Saturdays, cooking and generally entertaining the somewhat sad and lonely resident surgeon.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Valentines Day
A visit from # 2 son, with a beautiful pink hyacinth in green glazed pot, in hand for his mom.
A visit from #1 adopted neice, with specially made tin, filled with Ruth's vanilla sugar cookies in shape of hearts.
A walk around Partridge with 42's resident surgeon, in between trips to the emergency room.
An evening visit from three handsome young men, with two long stem yellow roses. Sweet!
A yummy steak dinner on yellow, not red, dinner and glassware.
A visit from #1 adopted neice, with specially made tin, filled with Ruth's vanilla sugar cookies in shape of hearts.
A walk around Partridge with 42's resident surgeon, in between trips to the emergency room.
An evening visit from three handsome young men, with two long stem yellow roses. Sweet!
A yummy steak dinner on yellow, not red, dinner and glassware.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Redeeming the Time, As the Journey Continues
I have been on some excursions during this journey that I am taking.
I've been here:
and here:
And here, the last couple of weeks.
These were little side jaunts, in preparation for the big trip next week.
For those who have lived here their lifetime and for those who live here sporadically, "redeeming the time", is a common phrase. Time is valuable and the use of it golden.
The words are found in Ephesians 5. They mean, buying up for yourselves the opportunity. Taking the moment, full of possibilities, but quickly passing by, and making the most of it.
Buying up time, while we have the chance. Being spiritually alert; and not unwise, walking circumspectly and not as fools, because the days are evil. We are all buying up for ourselves opportunities to share our testimony, to love someone, to pray for others, to have victory over tempations or sins, to read the Word, to hear His voice.
I read in Isaiah the other day..."And your ears shall hear a word behind you saying, This is the way, walk you in it, when you turn to the right hand and when you turn to the left." I am believing the Lord for that. That I could be sensitive to His leading on this journey and "buy up" the opportunities that He will give me. To look for others on my journey that are making the same trip but without hope or suppport.
I will be honest. A two month journey away is a long time.
I will miss these especially:
and these:
and these and so many others:
and this:
but the time will go fast and when I get back the grass will be green and the lilacs almost in bloom!
I've been here:
and here:
And here, the last couple of weeks.
These were little side jaunts, in preparation for the big trip next week.
For those who have lived here their lifetime and for those who live here sporadically, "redeeming the time", is a common phrase. Time is valuable and the use of it golden.
The words are found in Ephesians 5. They mean, buying up for yourselves the opportunity. Taking the moment, full of possibilities, but quickly passing by, and making the most of it.
Buying up time, while we have the chance. Being spiritually alert; and not unwise, walking circumspectly and not as fools, because the days are evil. We are all buying up for ourselves opportunities to share our testimony, to love someone, to pray for others, to have victory over tempations or sins, to read the Word, to hear His voice.
I read in Isaiah the other day..."And your ears shall hear a word behind you saying, This is the way, walk you in it, when you turn to the right hand and when you turn to the left." I am believing the Lord for that. That I could be sensitive to His leading on this journey and "buy up" the opportunities that He will give me. To look for others on my journey that are making the same trip but without hope or suppport.
I will be honest. A two month journey away is a long time.
I will miss these especially:
and these:
and these and so many others:
and this:
but the time will go fast and when I get back the grass will be green and the lilacs almost in bloom!
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