New beginnings

Shortly it will be 2011. I'm looking forward to the new year. Every day I feel better. Every day I can push myself a little farther. God is good. I know that my radiation therapy starts in January but that is the future. This is the now that is very easy to exult in. Seattle's sun is shining. It's cold but beautiful.

I have really enjoyed the holiday season. My son and his significant other are visiting from Oakland and my 2 daughters and their husbands live in Seattle. It's so nice to have all my children close at hand. It's so nice to feel well enough to enjoy them totally. I got to be at the extended Dermody family at Christmas with my grandniece, almost 9 months old. She's cruising around and it's so fun to see her get where she wants. Also, being able to buy toys again for Christmas, priceless!

May all of you have a blessed New Year and may there be peace in your hearts.

Thoughts on getting my energy back, the meaning of suffering, and the Incarnation

I am getting my energy back and it is wonderful! Lady and I have been walking on hills. The 'up' is getting a little easier each time. I am rediscovering Longfellow Creek. Today we went on a short walk because Lady is a bit under the weather with gastrointestinal issues. It's so amazing to take my morning shower and not be exhausted afterwards. The nails are starting to heal. They had been quite painful. They have stopped bleeding and so has my nose. Now I just wish my hair would grow back. All in good time, my friend, all in good time. I need to trust in the slow work of God that Pierre Teilhard de Chardin wrote about.

Next month I start radiation therapy. I'm optimistic that it will be better than chemo as advertised. I know I'll be tired; I've heard that from the medical people and friends and family. I'm a little nervous though. Every time I start to really recover, I get knocked down again. Oh well, it's time to relish the now and put it deeply in my memory for tougher times. I sometimes complain about the being present to the now when I am having trouble.

Oh dear, that brings to mind the difficult questions like the meaning of suffering. Suffering is no joy for me and I do not seek it. It is part and parcel of this human life, a part that Jesus shared with us. He was not enthusiastic about suffering but he endured it. He knew what it was to be hungry, to be betrayed by a close friend, and what it was to be tortured. The incarnation of Jesus is truly amazing. He knew what it meant to be human and chose to come to Earth anyway.

Oh Lord, give me the strength to bear my crosses with grace.

December joys

I saw my oncologist yesterday. I made it 75% through the Taxol treatments but I was starting to develop a spreading rash, worsening motor control and pain in my fingertips (aka neuropathy) and have been fighting an infection under my fingernails that makes them bleed and smell like old cheese. The side effects of chemo outweigh the benefits. I had a transfusion of red blood cells two weeks ago and it's really helped my blood count and hematocrit. Dr. C. said that the 75% was probably enough and asked if I would mind stopping chemo.

Mind? I was ecstatic! Now I can start feeling normal again. I have three weeks to heal before I start radiation therapy. I'll be able to enjoy my family for Christmas instead of being two days post chemo. I can start growing my eyelashes back! Thanks be to God!

November blues

Tomorrow is Taxol treatment #7 of 12. If all goes well I should have my last chemotherapy treatment 2 days before Christmas. I wonder how many weeks after that until I start the recovery process. I'm tired of being fatigued. Taxol and alcohol don't mix; I miss wine, beer, and Irish whiskey. I like the taste and I like the buzz. Maybe I can take coffee, my other allowed drug of choice with maybe some heavy cream to Thanksgiving dinner, something a little on the decadent side.

Yesterday I ran to an old friend from my old church at the grocery store. She asked me where I was going for Thanksgiving dinner. I told her I would be going to my mother-in-law's house. We traditionally go there but this year it makes it especially easy for me and Mr D (when we have turkey at home Mr D usually cooks it). I said that I would be making last night's dinner though. I told her that my last chemo would be Christmas week and went on to tell her more about my breast cancer battle. She was honest with me and told me that I looked like I was in chemo and she had tears in her eyes. I don't know if they were for me or not. I told her that my oncologist held a lot of hope for my beating this thing. I hope that if her tears were for me that it comforted her.

I'm beyond tears. I know that I will live or I will die. Early this fall a member of that old church my friend and I attended died after losing her battle with cancer that came back. I see ten-year survivors and then I see J. Maybe I reminded L. about J. Maybe that is why L. was crying. I know my own battle with cancer transports me back to the deaths of my mother and father. Mom got sick in November 35 years ago and died 2 months later of pancreatic cancer. Dad lived 25 years longer and died at age 89 on a November day. The sky darkens, the leaves fall, and this November I am surrounded by nurses, doctors, and phlebotomists. I feel my lack of health and remember my mother and father surrounded by the same type of people. True, their prognoses were much different from mine. I have hope, right? Still, somehow my suffering brings me in communion with theirs. I have to remind myself that they are not suffering now, that they live with God now, but it doesn't negate the memories. The death is not the hard part, it's the dying.

I love roses

I love roses. They bring me hope. Rose bushes are feisty plants. I am not a great yard caretaker. One of the bushes that was planted before we moved here 30 years ago lives among the blackberries. It has been cut back to nothing and still returns with beautiful flowers. Here in Seattle if the weather has been mild it is not unusual to see roses in December. One of my favorite saints, St. Therese of Lisieux, said that she would "let fall a shower of roses" spending her heaven doing good on earth. There is something about a rose that reminds me of God's promises and his love. When I am down I go for a walk and see a rose and remember.

It's reading recommendation time again. My lack of energy has led to lots of time for reading books both on my Kindle 3G Wireless Reading Device, Free 3G + Wi-Fi, 6 (okay so mine's a Kindle 2) and at the library. I like reading both non-fiction and fiction.

Non-fiction:

• A great book that casts some doubt on current gender studies:

• Joy is not found in money, possessions, and high-powered careers.

Fiction:

• Read if you need to survive a science fiction universe. It's fiction, honest.

• Told from the point of view of a boy reared entirely in one room for the first 5 years of life.

• Spenser novels by Robert Parker. I consume these like potato chips which I would eat if my stomach would let me.
• You can't go wrong with Precious Raomtswe of the Number One Ladies Detective Agency. Take your mind off of your cares with a trip to Botswana.

Sit back, have a cup of coffee or tea and enjoy.

Beyond Words

Yesterday I felt well enough to go to mass. I usually go to the 11:30 am Sunday mass because I like to sleep later than the morning-people parishioners. It's usually a pretty quiet mass since the families with children for the most part attend the 5pm Saturday or 9am Sunday contemporary music masses. We have the organ and the traditional choir. This time the 11:30 was full of life. We had four baptisms, four new infants brought into the faith. We had a lot of kids counting the friends and families of the newly baptized making our normally sedate mass exciting.

Baptism is new birth in Christ. I don't remember my own baptism. My parents brought six week-old me to the font and I was reborn, marked with the cross of Christ. When we have baptisms at Holy Rosary I feel reborn. When the sponsors and parents make the baptismal vows for the babies we the assembly renew our own baptismal vows. We are sprinkled with the same Holy Water in which the babies were baptized. What a new beginning to the week!