Sunday, September 25, 2016

Update Dealing #2, detecting the detectable.


First, thank you all for kind thoughts, prayers, and occasional oddities that made me laugh. You are wonderful! As you can see I've now blogged this "dealing with cancer" stuff, so those wanting updates can find them here.



Now, to the update.



The detective work is almost over. I have been twice now to the Dana Farber Cancer Institute in Boston (about two buildings from where Matthew has his labs). Based on CAT and PET scans done here in Lewes the cancer seems to be located in several lymph nodes in the neck and the primary site is near the base of the tongue. Friday (two days ago) a Dana Farber surgeon did a biopsy of the area to determine it as the primary site, which it now seems it is. It does not seem to have spread anywhere else.  At this point they are talking primarily about the option for chemotherapy and radiation.  But all that will become clear next Monday (October 3) when we meet with the DF team and hear their recommendation for action. Meanwhile I am seeing oncologists here in Lewes about the possibility of treatment here based on the orders from DF.  It would be wonderful if I could have the doses here under direction from the oncologist team at DF in Boston. If not it will be eight weeks in Boston.  We will see.



The whole family has been wonderful and supportive, particularly (of course) Kathryn, who is her calm and loving self.



I am mostly seeing this as a piece of work that needs to be done, but have already jumped the rails a couple of times. Feelings are sneaky.  Some observations:



(i)             It is real depressing to feel helpless. The fact that I can engage doctors who “know what to do” about the cancer makes it seem as if I’m not helpless. But they talk about what needs to be done (by them) and I feel like I am the receiver only, and not an agent. I really have to work at it to remind myself that I do have agency, that I must decide what course of action to take. Still, helplessness is a pervasive thing, and the downward spiral takes a few turns.



(ii)           Anne (the sainted mother) was a great model for dying. She was real clear that death was not the problem, dying was.  And of course I have known for a long time that the dominion of death is often in the details. But it is amazingly difficult not to get caught up in the notion that if I just did this or that I might avoid death altogether (which by the way is a terrible idea). So in the midst of the beginnings of this walk, dear friends, I am surprised how often I have to catch myself from falling for the oldest trick in the book – turning the fight to live into a fight not to die, from turning living into something less spiritually interesting, that is, simply not dying. So far I am succeeding, but it is nip and tuck.



(iii)          Kathryn has for years meditated, and I in my own chaotic way have walked a spiritual path that has been of great help, and I am always comforted by the possibilities of non-attachment as a way of living lightly with the passing away of all things, people, ideas, nations, selves. Years ago Jim Friedrich sent me a postcard of a stand of trees in the snow, with snow falling and wind, so that one side of the trees were covered, the other not. On it he wrote, “Shh…it comes, it goes.”  Seems right.



So there it is.  More next week. Hopefully then the full blown program of treatment and the beginnings of a path where we go “stamping out the vineyards where the grapes of wrath are stored.” 



Your continued thoughts are hoped for, as I will dream of you often.

13 comments:

  1. Thanks for being you and keeping us close! The Cloud of Witnesses, and those who would be, surround you...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Prayers from my end of the world (Laurel, Md)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Prayers for you, for Kathryn, and for your medical team. Thank you for your wry authenticity. Sending hugs from afar.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Prayers for you, for Kathryn, and for your medical team. Thank you for your wry authenticity. Sending hugs from afar.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Sending prayers & hugs to you & Kathryn. Thanks for keeping us all updated.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Sending prayers & hugs to you & Kathryn. Thanks for keeping us all updated.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Know that you have many fans pulling for you and praying for you.

    ReplyDelete
  8. My prayers are with you. As a chronic heart disease sufferer much of what you write resonates. I live a day at a time and remind myself I'm not dead yet.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Keeping you in prayer in heart and the Chapel at the church center this week.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Keeping you in prayer in heart and the Chapel at the church center this week.

    ReplyDelete
  11. I appreciate your candid honesty, and perspective as you share your inner thoughts and feeliings of this journey. It is a journey we are all on in one form or another. Please know that you are surrounded and enfolded by many who hold you in our thoughts, our prayers, and our hearts.❤️

    ReplyDelete
  12. Hi Mark, Your story reminds me of a spare tire cover that adorned the back of my car for years which gave me inspiration on many a difficult day: LIFE IS GOOD it declared every time I got into or out of the car. Unfortunately, I was rear-ended one day and it suddenly became LIFE IS GOO. I no longer rely on a spare tire cover to convince me that I am not necessarily the agent in my life. But I am learning to live with that reality also. "It comes, it goes" is a good reminder of this for me. You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers. Jill

    ReplyDelete
  13. Thank you...this is the hard stuff and I think you are brave when keeping your eye on the ball is quite a task. Again, you are a wonderful influence and we care about you. Len

    ReplyDelete