Finding the joys of Cancer

 

I lost 2 whole days last week!

This is what it looks like.

Freezing cold, I crawl under a blanket, look at Sarah sitting across from me, tell her I'm going to rest for a minute and immediately fall asleep.

Two days later I wake up!

"DA's UP!" Che matter-of-factly screams, diving in my lap, ready to finally play with her old man as Sarah breaths sighs of relief.

Later I walk outside to visit with Johnny O who stops by only to see me sweating profusely in 90 degree weather, shivering and barely able to stand.

"You should lay down," he advises saying "Hello" and Goodbye at the same time, waving as he climbs back in his car.

Stumbling in, Che's waiting on the sofa with blankets, playing "TOCA World" on her I-pad and, as I collapse beside her, she covers me without taking her eye off the screen.

"Are you gonna be able to walk her to school with us?" Sarah asks after gliding into the kitchen to fix Che's lunch for Kindergarten.

I rally and we walk together holding hands as everything's normal.

Home again, Sarah makes certain I'm okay before diving into the mountains of work, responsibility, navigating American Heath Care for me and being mother to four daughters.

On good days, I sit on the sofa and take inventory to see what I'm actually capable of doing.

Our Dalmatian, Lainey lays her head in my lap, wags her tail furiously and stares at me with sad, brown cow eyes. 

She wants to take me for a walk.

Desperate to get outside, I want to happily let her drag me along behind her.

I smoke some medicine before harnessing her up and opening the door as Sarah yells between conversations for me to call her if I collapse on the walk.

Somehow Lainey knows how far I'm capable of making it, drags me to the closest bench, where I sit, catch my breath, ache all over, either sweat or freeze and try to focus on the music streaming in my ears.

My phone buzzes, flashing the name "Jeremy'.

Staring at his name unleashes an ocean of emotions and memories and it takes every bit of energy I have to weakly say, "Hey Son."

"Hey Pop," he says and I can hear him sizing up how I sound.

There's a quick burst of words because Sarah and I've been thinking about our daughter-in-law Terenca so I ask before I run out of energy.

He catches me up, I run out of energy and the conversation peters out.

Sensing this, Lainey jerks me off the bench and drags me home.

Sarah has the door to our bedroom/her office closed indicating she's on Zoom calls so, I use the moment to have some more medicine, turning up the music streaming in my ears and falling in the back yard hammock.

Physically I believe I'm doing pretty good for everything my body's been through the past two years, focusing intensely on the things I'm still capable of doing and forgetting about things I can't do anymore.

I'm okay with that. 

It just means that like everyone else I'm getting old.

It's the mental side of living with cancer that's so damn hard!

It's not a flesh and blood struggle I'm fighting but dark powers, corrupt principalities in my head, an emptiness grows for no reason and reminders of the world's wicked ways that seem to constantly overwhelm spiritual promises I've believed in my entire life!

That's as close as I can get to describing the mental side of cancer.

It's pretty brutal! 

So I don't think about it.

Sarah doesn't focus on it too much either.

It's too much.

Instead, to the best of my ability, I only focus on happy or joyous things, either real or imagined, and believe me when I say it helps tremendously to have a 5 year old daughter!

The hard part is willing myself to remain focused on the joys in front of me while all the dark thoughts poke sinister scenarios of meaningless. 

I remind myself "THIS IS IT!"

It's more about living than staying alive.

"Honey you want to go to Sam's Club with me?" Sarah sings across the yard and I climb from the security of my hammock to join my wife for "Date Day."

It could be my last chance!

Who knows!

We have the best time and run into Cheryl in the Wine Aisle, so we share tidings of great joy with warm hugs celebrating our surviving so far!

So far, so good!