Thursday, January 10, 2013

For every season...

~From the mind-folio musings of Pete~

"And a time for every purpose under heaven", the Byrds  song continues. I know many follow this blog as their sole insight int our journey and it has long been neglected, so I apologize for the lack in continuity in being able to keep up with us short of short quips on Facebook, very few of which are my own. With the myriad of thoughts, struggles & rollercoaster of emotions that take a daily or more realistically moment-to-moment fluctuation on my mind and body, even more and more  frequent mini-anxiety attacks, my thoughts will only portray the incongruity of my emotions as they would come out in writing. We've graceth and a half, so our house and routines have been in a bit of an upheaval for a while and has no just settled back down after the holidays and everyone goes back to their 'normal' lives, as we're left in the tail-wind spinning in the eddies of our not so 'normal' lives. That's led to some own upheavals and changes even to our little day-to-day life of managing the normal 'facing a terminal illness' life. We had a lot of small mini-milestones to look forward to since the last posting, beyond the visitations of family and the planning of the 'Living Memorial' party which went off extremely well on many fronts, the Saturday following Christmas; we had a grand Disneyland trip scheduled in mid-December which was side-lined by a last-minute surgery I had to implant a colostomy bag aimed at belaying many of the bowel issues i'd been struggling with. That typically straightforward procedure came with it's own set of complications that are still slowing me down and adding new trials yet alieved others. Small goals are all I can set now as the smallest of trips, car rides, or even small exertions around the house leave me short of breath and taxed of all energy. Just today, the hospice nurse in formed me that all lung sounds on my left side (where the largest tumor and fluid build up had been) are completely diminished; meaning almost no oxygen exchange is occurring on that side. Since the placement of the catheter to be able to drain fluid from that space back in October, there has been vitrually no drainage, meaning that it caused enough scar tissue that the fluid has stopped accumulating or at least it drains properly on its own. That's great but I still have this stupid tube stuck in my chest that is in some way or another irritating enough on a day-to-day basis. So anyways, i'm almost constantly out of breath, coughing, or feeling like i'm constantly getting a great big bear hug, amoungst things everywhere else in my body.

Speaking with a friend who has and is undergoing a similar yet wholly different case of colon cancer, he mentioned that our 30 year old bodies are undergoing the breakdown and function loss of 80 year old men. That coudn't be more the truth. I take it for what it's worth and what it has to be and deal with it, in all it's frustration, embarrassment, and relinquishment to a destitute frame of mind, it begs the question: what do I do from here? Just wait?... My thoughts seem best prepared to tackle that next question in the dead of night night when i'm awoken even in the midst of sleep inducing drugs with a maelstrom of thoughts invading my slumber. That and my ceaseless craving for sweets even at 2 a.m.

There's an ending tumult as I said, a whirlwind of threatening ebb and flow of emotions that assaults me or at least passes tauntingly close by daily, any of which could sweep me away to anger, malaise or plain destitiuteness. But lately I care to give any such claim; that instead I just am. I exist. If asked if i'm doing ok, there's an instant desire to fire back what that is?! Relative to what pray-tell?! Though that isn't fair to the genuinely concerned who don't exactly understand what that simple concern could elicit. I just am, nothing else really matters at this point when I sit under a streaming hot shower and feel any cares or worries i might have previously had about the world in general; nothing holds the same meaning or priority any more. Alysha will be the first to tell you that I am no longer the most timid or modest person whether in public or elsewhere, i just don't have the patience or tolerance for things I used to just let roll off my back. If we are getting sub-quality service at a restaurant and the coffee is pale and warmed over, I don't let it slide anymore, I demand more for the time I feel I have left and deserve something out of it even if it's a fresh cup of good coffee. That's not to say that nothing at all matters to me anymore, that I go through my day in a haze, though sometimes am forced into that state when sleep eludes me, it's just the same things don't give me the same concern nor can I find the patience to spend my time concerned with things other than the wellbeing of my family. I can be targeted by an onslaught of doubt and misdirected concern from others who simply can't grasp that place that I, we as a family, as a married couple, find ourselves on this walk in our 'journey', how we find ourselves at peace with it. Whatever that irrefutable logic tells us and how our faith in God's will places a higher understanding of trust in Him gives us peace, one that can't be related to those who's eyes and hearts cannot be opened or at least exposed to the same degree of grace we have been blessed with by finding ourselves where we do now.

So whether my days find mw walking along the RxR tracks, wondering why it's worth continuing on just waiting for the inevitable with no purposeful direction or aim in the dwindling days, just waiting for what's next, or I find myself soaring in an unspeakable beauty of peace and tranquility, brought closer to God's presence in a rebirth from the ashes that threaten to smolder at my will and the peace i've found, I simply am. Time and God's will are my soul's companion on this daily ride. But this is a very visceral part of me at the moment. Of course other things matter and I still find joy and interest in daily life, though it takes considerable effort to overcome the dragging weight of this core that can swing from one end of the spectrum to the next at any given moment.

I am currently attempting to put thoughts and chronicles of my journey down in a different manner than narratives such as this and hope in time, if it amounts to anything significant, will be a different kind of legacy I may leave, not just to tell my story, but to enlighten, inspire and educate how a life such as mine can shift from ordinary to what may feel insignificant, but maybe just maybe, share a different kind of story than all the others that tell of struggle and strife brought on by a tragedy or trauma. These stories are run of the mill once you are introduced to the genre, i just hope I have something more to offer that may make it worth the read. It's another line on my short list, so we'll see what may be, may be; que sera sera.