Staying Present

Well, here it is 2 months later so I figured I'm way behind on a post. I've been observing my son, Benjamin, a lot lately, and really admiring his ability to stay in the present. Why are children so good at that, and adults not so much? When I look at him, he's not worrying about tomorrow, or regretting some part of his 3-year-old past. He just IS. Right now. Oh, how I wish I were better at that, especially when dealing with cancer.

If only I didn't regret choices in my past that may have contributed to my cancer, and if only I didn't worry about how long the Good Lord will allow me to stay on this earth. What would it be like if I could just BE, in the moment, for most of the time? At the beginning of my last infusion, we got mixed news. My CT-scan looked good, but my CA-125 numbers rose by about 40 points. Huh?!?! This news definitely fell out of line with the "done in 6 months" chemo scenario I had in my mind when I started out treating recurrence #1. Cancer can be sneaky like that. Stupid cells. Why has my immune system let me down?

Anyway, to say that news has pervaded my thinking for the last 3 weeks is an understatement. It's hard not to go to the worse case scenario, especially when your 3-year-old asks you out of the blue at the dinner table if you'll be around when he's bigger. Heart in throat. Okay, Sandy, choke it down, be honest. I replied "I hope so", as enthusiastically as I could, amidst holding back tears.

But then on the flip side there are those glimpses I get of staying present when I forget that I'm even sick (aside from the constant reminder that my hairless reflection gives me in the mirror), and I'm just living life. A lot of those moments are when I'm in the midst of playing with Benjamin, forgoing housework, laundry, and all the other stuff I'm supposed to be doing around the house. When I'm at play, I'm present. Good thing I have a 3-year-old around to help remind me of that. He likes to play. A lot.

Benjamin has a complete set of players, puck, referree, "ice" and boards called "Hockey Guys". In his world, the rules of the NHL are out the window. In his version of hockey, the goalies stand on top of their nets during the game. Imagine how much more menacing the goalies would be in real life if perched, with equipment galore, on top of the nets, jumping down in startling fashion as opposing players approached. It would certainly add a whole new element to the game of ice hockey. He also has 2 zambonis, one for resurfacing the ice, and the other for taking the players off the ice. Perhaps if every player had a zamboni ride at the end of every period, there wouldn't be so much fighting during the game. It's something the NHL should consider. I'll have to contact the commissioner.

I also love the carefree abandon with which Benjamin "folds" (and I use that term loosely) the laundry. He's a great helper with chores around the house. He was instructing me the other week on how to fold laundry. First, you shake it out. Then you run around the room with it. Then you roll it up in a ball. If I adopt his method, imagine the cardio workout I could get while doing a chore I despise! He's so good at incorporating fun into daily activities.

Being in the moment also means being sad when we need to, being angry when we need to, feeling what we need to when we need to do it. Kids are brilliant at that, even though it's tough on the adults at times when they are. That's not always possible for us "grown-ups" to do, logistically speaking, that is. There have been times I've been close to tears in the check-out line at the grocery store, but can't exactly curl up into a fetal ball on the floor and cry my eyes out. There is a certain protocol to which we kind of have to conform. Personally I think we'd all be alot better off if we could feel our feelings instead of making excuses for them, or pushing them down. All that pushing down over the course of a lifetime makes for a lot of pressure on the inside. At some point, it needs to get out. The form that it takes is different for everyone.

We had some great visits over the holidays when we traveled to Toronto and Pennsylvania, and we've had some great visitors come out to help during my infusions. We are very lucky to have such loving people in our lives. The days here this winter have seemed like they are neverending gray, and it's definitely affecting my mood. In one sense having chemo and having people come out to help help to break up the winter. I'm looking forward to our trip to Hilton Head at the end of March. That's the big carrot I'm dangling in front of myself to get me through chemo. I'm not sure if my chemo meds will change, if we'll add a drug, or if we'll stay the current course. I get my bloodwork done on Feb. 1st so my doctor will have the info she needs to make a decision at the beginning of my next infusion cycle on Feb. 4th. Here's hoping for falling numbers and shrinking tumors!

Love to all,
Sandy