Remember how excited you were when you turned 20? (Ok, the drinking age in Massachusetts was 18 then.) A new decade for that “age” line on forms, the end of the teenage years (like right! Whatever.) Today was radiation treatment #20. Big psychological push; I’ve made it this far and overall feel good, certainly better than anticipated (by me.) Today’s music was from Rilo Kiley’s More Adventurous. Tracks played were “Portions for Foxes”, “A Man / Me / Then Jim”, “It’s a Hit”, and “Does He Love You?”
Adam drove me in for the first time this morning. Traffic on the way in was light as far light is defined in Boston. Going home, it was a breeze. Both legs, we listened to music (Ray Wyle Hubbard’s Growl and Various Artists’ D.I.Y.: The Modern World – UK Punk II (1977-78). Mostly we talked. Ad & I have our best conversations when it’s one-on-one, no one else in the room to intrude on a flow we have going. Fun rides!
Oh, and Adam got the 25 cent tour (as opposed to the normal 10 cent tour) of the radiation control and treatment rooms. I think the combination of his warm personality and Applied Math career gave him a leg up.
I’m writing this post mid-afternoon. Lately, many of my posts are written after dinner. I’m tired, less focused, and try my best. But the posts feel formulaic: a list of the day’s treatments and appointments, a little about the commutes, and a little about home. I write with what feels like little flow. Little flow does not do Little Bang justice! I don’t know how the posts feel like on your end. Hopefully, not a yawn. In the future I resolve to, whenever possible, write earlier in the day when my mind is clearer and there are not extraneous activities (TV, supper being made and devoured by humans with functioning taste buds) going on in the background. I really care about YOU and want to give you the best I have. And I care about writing, hate being sloppy, and prefer to avoid responses like the one from Mr. Ramsey, always communicated most eloquently with his eyes, “and why did you give me this to me to read?” I think that look was the precursor of the “now I have 15 minutes I’ll never get back” line from current pop culture.
I know I write this everyday and there are a limited number of ways to express it, but I do so because I really mean it. Your support and comfort get me through the days, especially the dark hours. Today, the sun is pouring in through the living room windows and it makes me feel very happy. I think of you as the sun.
Love…
Richard
You are doing so good... sailing right through it... I did too! Piece of cake right? ... I am cheering you on for the last leg of the what is you call that machine...(Little Bang).. I was to focused on the good looking dude that set me up everyday to name the machine... LOL .. (kidding, well not! LOL but I am happily married)... This will soon just be a bad memory..
ReplyDeleteGod Bless Richard... you were ment to BEAT THIS...
Thanks, Laura. You're making this day even brighter. The thing about cake is that it gets smaller & smaller slice-by-slice until the plate is empty. I hoping for no more of this variety of cake, though!
ReplyDeleteI talk to the techs. I talk to Little Bang. I'll remember her name!
Richard,
ReplyDeleteEven if your posts are similar, there's nothing routine about what you're going through, and I feel privileged to be included in the story-telling. I've never been this close to the process, though my next door neighbor went through throat cancer treatment 2 years ago. (She's fine now.)
You are in my thoughts every day. My parents have you on their prayer list. (They do morning devotions and have asked me if there's anyone I want them to pray for.)
Thanks for sharing.
Libby
Happy 20th! Can we change “Portions for Foxes” to “Potions for Foxes”? Little Bang is one powerful potion, both magical and poisonous, destructive and productive, a potion that changes so much.
ReplyDeleteAs I’ve said many times, I love and appreciate your posts. I cherish them. And I am amazed (except that it’s you and this is so like you) that you keep at them day after day whether you feel well or not. I understand that the writing doesn’t feel to you like it has enough “flow” to it. But, it has great discipline and it’s very concise. It is the flow of life … which, some days, may feel mundane, but only because you’re so close to it. It is a journal. The flow will come as you look back at what you’ve written. You will write from a different perspective then and experience the kind of flow I think you’re talking about. Right now, you are writing just exactly what you need to write and what we need to read. You let us know what your days are like, days in this remarkable challenge, days in this difficult miracle, days that are ordinary and fantastic at the same time. I have never known what this is like. Now I know … Day by day, I know. I’m sure that some of the people on this list who have been through similar treatment protocols are reexamining their own experiences as you write about yours. They probably feel those past challenges very deeply as they read you. To write with the kind of flow you’re talking about, you’d have to feel this experience very deeply right now … And, right now, that depth of feeling might mire you. And it might mire me, too, if you wrote from that place of flow that I think you’re talking about. You are skating over the top of this experience, gliding along with elegance and purpose. And you are taking me right along with you and I feel the breeze of motion on my face and I don’t think about what’s underneath the ice or how thick it is and I’ve forgotten that I don’t even know how to skate. I am just gliding along with you. I’m not frightened or anxious. I’ll be frightened and anxious when it’s safe to be frightened and anxious: went we get where we’re going and we’re safe and warm and looking back. We will both feel the flow when it’s safe to feel the flow … very soon now. Your writing is perfect just as it is, perfect for the flow of things right now.
I am traveling tomorrow to Gainesville to spend a week with my longest friend. I’ve known her since I was six. We plan to drive the Florida panhandle, explore the odd flora and fauna, and think of our long lives together. You will be with us. I may be out of internet reach for writing, but I will be reading you. And you will be with me. It should be an interesting ride.
Libby...
ReplyDeleteThanks for all those kind words, for reading the blog, for keeping me in your thoughts. It's all greatly appreciated. Thank your parents, please, for adding me to their prayer list. I have great faith in the power of prayer.
Love to you & Sarah...
Richard
Hey BeJae...
ReplyDeleteSounds like a fun road trip - only no Thelma & Louise'ing, ok?
I've had a hankering for a Worcester-St. Louis-Worcester road trip. With some likely Webster suspects who still live in MA. Columbus would be halfway. First I gotta finish with Little Bang!
Thanks for the kind words on the blog. I think your analysis is spot on. When I reread this mess a year(?) from now, I will see it and feel it much differently.
Long day today and I'm fatigued - just typing and putting words together. Blogging will be challenge but it'll come later. One word after the other.
Love to you and Jackie...
Richard