The Energy Bank and Marriage

My last check-up with the oncologist went well, no evidence of disease.  I have my last four month check in February and then we move to every six months.  I feel well and have lots of energy, unlike when was going through cancer treatment.  Then I had to space things out because there was only so much energy to be had.  Withdraw too much from the energy bank and there would be none.  It made me prioritize.

This September Mr. D fell and broke dominant left shoulder and his right elbow.  The elbow injury was merely a crack but the shoulder injury required two-hour surgery.  At first both his arms were in slings and I had to do many of his self-care tasks.  He wasn't allowed to lift more than a coffee cup with either hand.  We share the housework and he couldn't help.  He also slept a lot.  Thus I was reminded of the energy bank.  At first even going to the doctor was exhausting for him.  We could go to the store but we had to keep the energy bank in mind.  Too much time led to exhaustion.  Now almost a month post surgery he is doing much better.  He still can't lift much but he can do dishes and cook.  He sleeps a more normal schedule.  He still can't withdraw more from the energy bank than is available but he has more reserves.  He starts physical therapy this week.

All this has led me to think about how precious life is and how it can be taken away in an instant.  Mr. D is my love, my life-partner.  I have promised to be with him for better and for worse and in sickness and in health.  We've been through both the for poorer and for richer.  He's been through my sickness and health. The longer I'm married the more my vows mean something.  At marriage they were just words for a future I was clueless about.  The longer I'm married the more I love this man.

Good-bye Old Friend

                         Emilio

It was just last year when Hazzard our 16 year-old cat died in my arms. Last week thirteen year-old Emilio stopped eating.  I took him to West Seattle Animal Hospital on Wednesday.  Dr. Gomez was hopeful.  He was dehydrated but with fluids perhaps he could come out of this crisis.  We brought him in every day for subcutaneous fluids.  Mr. D and I did not want to poke him ourselves.  We are supposed to be the good guys.  I was still dirt to Emilio for taking him in to the vet at all.  Mr. D drove him in on Saturday while I was at work and Emilio's opinion of Mr.D dropped rapidly.  Every day we tried to get him to eat and some days he'd take a few bites and a few sips of chicken broth but it wasn't enough to make him strong.  On Saturday Dr. Bergstrom told me that we had to decide what we wanted to do.  Did we want to go for aggressive hospitalization and forced feeding or did we want euthanasia if he didn't get better.  I felt we could try fluids for the weekend and make a choice today, Monday.  There was no hurry.  Saturday night he took a turn for the worse.  He let me hold him and I knew that he would die soon but he "did not go gentle into that goodnight"   

He started having convulsions.  Fortunately the clinic is open on Sundays so I changed his fluid appointment to a euthanasia appointment.  By that time it wasn't a difficult decision at all; it was obvious.  He was so weak that the sedative to relax him stopped his heart.  There was no need for a second injection.

It's hard to say good-bye to an old pet.  They live such short lives compared to ours.  The time from kittenhood or puppyhood to old-age is so short but it is so wonderful.  I would not forgo the joy to forgo the sorrow.  Love is worth it.

Reconciliation

The church encourages us to go to the Sacrament of Reconciliation at least once a year.  I usually work Saturdays when it's offered at Holy Rosary so I have a built in excuse.  This Saturday I'm working until 3 pm, plenty of time to get to Confession by 3:30. I don't know if it has been a year or more or less but it's time, something about that spiritual housecleaning business.   Yes, I can confess my sins to God and he will forgive me but there is something special about laying those sins before a priest and receiving absolution.  The dark sins are exposed to the light where they can't hide anymore behind my rationalizations.  The priest who has heard everything is not shocked by my sins and counsels me how to do better.  He is a flesh and blood representative of Jesus who tells me to "go and sin no more".  A penance is assigned which will help me repair my relationship with God.  I give my act of contrition saying that I am truly sorry for sinning against God and promising to do better.  I hear the words of absolution and am dismissed to once again go out into the world as a child of God. 

He comes anyway

"Lord, I am not worthy that you should come under my roof" but Jesus comes anyway.  We are not worthy but the Lord loves us so much that he's willing to spend time with us.  May I always be willing to spend time with him.

Ash Wednesday 2012

Another Lent begins.  Another time to clear out the spiritual cobwebs.  Some give up something for Lent.  Others take on a new spiritual practice.  What keeps us from God?  What will bring us closer?

Last year after my struggle with breast cancer I decided to give up suffering for Lent.  I felt I'd suffered enough with all the things that come with a cancer diagnosis.  Suffering found me in ways that I couldn't have imagined. In March, Hazzard, my sixteen year-old cat died.  He had kidney disease and so his passing wasn't a surprise, it was just painful.  He was an old friend.  He didn't want to be alone when he died and so he died in my arms.  That was hard, that was difficult, but I was shocked at the suffering that was to come.  

Losing a pet is like losing one of the family but it doesn't compare to the loss of someone from the human family.  In April Andrew was killed in a motorcycle accident three days from his twenty-fifth birthday.  He was part of our neighborhood's extended family.  He and his sisters and my son and daughters would migrate from house to house, usually the boys at one and the girls at the other.  I watched him while his parents worked.  As a young man he moved into the house next door to me and started raising his son.  He later moved to a different spot in the neighborhood later but I would see him skateboarding with his dog down the street or taking his son sledding.  "Hi Andrew."  "Hi Cheryl".  And then he was gone, dead, abruptly dead.  It was like I had been kicked in the gut.  This year I am not giving up suffering.

The first reading for Ash Wednesday from the prophet Joel tells us:

Even now, says the LORD,
return to me with your whole heart,
with fasting, and weeping, and mourning;
Rend your hearts, not your garments,
and return to the LORD, your God.

I've approached this Lent with a different attitude.  I am ready to do what I usually do.  I am giving up something that I can give up (don't ask me to give up coffee)  and something that is keeping me from spending time with God and from following his command to "love one another".  I am giving up Facebook and Twitter for the duration and plan to use the extra time gained getting closer to God and to my friends.  It's time to do a little face-to-face or telephoning or physical letter writing to get closer to the people that I love.  I guess the old fashioned ways of communicating are something that I will take up for Lent.  I'm going to try to work against the excuses for not spending dedicated time with God.

These actions won't keep suffering from knocking at my door but they will lead to a healthier relationship with God.  Peace be with you this Ash Wednesday.

  

Mrs. Dermody, Language Police

The other day one of my customers told me she was proud of me.  I was puzzled and asked her what she meant.  She said that she has watched me since I returned to work a year ago. Her husband has been in remission and has gone through cancer treatment and she was pleased at how well I was doing.  I told her that  there wasn't anything that I had done to make me well again.  Others have fought the same battle and have lost. I still survive and don't feel special just grateful.  I just played the hand I was dealt.

The language police part of me that wanted to take the compliment apart.  I looked up the definition of pride in Dictionary.com which says that "It may refer to an affectionate admiration or a justifiable pride concerning someone else."  Oh, that's what she meant, an affectionate admiration.  I was more thinking along the lines of justifiable pride like when I'm proud of my kids. Okay, thanks, which is what I should have said in the first place.