Monday, May 21, 2012

05-22-2012 Thoughts

Day 2 (maybe 3) of Fluanolo, or something like that, to get the chalky yeast stuff out of my throat. Swallowing, breathing, and resting finally, but it took hitting a wall before I finally caved in. If it rains tomorrow I'll stay down for another day and hopefully will be back up and running... well moving, pretty much the same thing. I kinda look forward to the surgeries to come if they get me off the Prednisone. That might maybe make me able to see my feet. :)

  We watched movies and I haven't been on the web a lot. Some pretty decent movies too. Michael is done with his part of the house, they done an excellent job. I'll save up and get them to do the back and other side next. I got the porch fans wired and hung and rehung the swing. I told Denise I felt like we had money walking out on the porch. :) The garden is growing extremely fast, which is excellent. Megan weeded the Pepper plants and done a great job, look good. She likes my little garden cart so I'll get her one of her own.

  I see Charlie most days from a distance, he looks bad. I don't understand but I keep my distance. Some grow and some don't, I'm not sure how that works but I know you can't be bitter and get better. I wonder sometimes when we pass if he knows that both Denise and I pray for him every night, we add Tina and William as well. I haven't heard from Don or Barb yet. I remember them in my prayer and as positive as they are they might just be ok.

  I have my mask hanging on the wall above my desk. That thing is probably so full or radiation it wreaks. That thing scares most people but for me it is a reminded of the Hell I went through and also that there is hope when it seems there is none. I see the last of me in that mask, perhaps the part I needed to shed. Megan makes beads somethings and she has made me bead crosses that hang from it and an Origami flower that sets atop it. The certificate hangs on the wall. Most times when I look at it I don't see the sickness but the people I met, the medical personal and the funny times we had. I sometimes wonder how they are, especially the one lady who had tonsil or tongue cancer. Never did I ever imagine I'd see that much hope in a hopeless body. That much bravery in that much adversity. That much love and faith in the life of pain.

  Nothing special today, except everyday is special now. I just felt like writing. Those who haven't seen their life hang by a thread probably can't relate, save for a few. Those who do, know what I say and can relate. It's been three years now and the lesson is still there, fresh and it was yesterday. It is only when we are forced to fight with every breathe, every minute, every second for days on end that we realize that life is a gift. I am not afraid to die, but I am afraid of cancer. I'm not afraid to live, but that meaning has changed quite substantially, life and living.  I will say, and maybe I've said it before--cancer has no hold, it is an event. Not a curse, not a blessing by it's purest form. It is only a disease. We have the choice to make it a blessing or a curse, and that goes with anything.