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.

The privilege of going to church

I'm able to make it to church every other week now. Right after chemo, I'm too nauseated and fatigued. It makes me appreciate going to mass more than ever. I miss weekly Eucharist and I miss my church friends.

Yesterday was my day to go to mass. I arrived in my pink scarf, a sign, a person with cancer who made it out of the house. I saw many people I haven't seen in months. One of our number, a woman in her eighties had injured herself in a fall and had a long rehabilitation. It was so good to see her. I had been afraid that for her this would be the fall that disabled her for life. Thank God it wasn't. Another woman had also been out for months with health problems. She was back. There were a couple of women behind me in the pew that I didn't recognize so I introduced myself. They were an adult daughter from Seattle and her mother from out of state. The mother noticed me as one of the afflicted and asked how I was doing. It turns out that she had fought a similar battle against breast cancer ten years ago and she is now fine. She asked me to repeat my name and told me that she would pray for me and that she really meant it. We talked about how important it is for us to have people praying for us. She said that she could feel the prayers of those who had prayed for her. I can't feel prayers but my heart knows that friends, family, and even strangers are praying for me giving me courage and hope.

The mass proceeds from Liturgy of the Word to Liturgy of the Eucharist. We pray the Eucharistic Prayer and we sing the communion procession song of the day. I walk forward realizing how privileged I am to receive Jesus. I eat the bread and drink the wine that are His Very Self. I go back to my pew and reflect on how Jesus is coursing through my body and that everyone in that communion procession is receiving Jesus as well. We are truly the Body of Christ and we are meant to be transformed.

How does Christ being infused in me transform me? What does it mean for my life? As a person with cancer it means that my cancer is not just about me. It is about my friends, family, co-workers, fellow parishioners, doctors, nurses, technicians, receptionists, and phlebotomists. All are affected by my diagnosis and all need love. I know that I can't take care of everyone's feelings; that's not my job. I need to be a calm presence when I can and receive the love and care of others when I can't, when I need someone to be a calm presence. I need to be transformed by Christ.