Clock of Life

Well, the liner of our swimming pool was old and getting holes in it. It was time to replace it. However, we’ve considered for quite a while to just fill the pool in. We don’t use it all that much anymore as compared to the tending it requires. I especially use the pool sparingly as the water has to be warm for my arm and even then I don’t swim much because of swimming’s impact on my arm. Eileen is only moderately comfortable in the water and our daughter uses it less and less too. Further, if I’m not feeling well, the pool still has to be tended to. If I didn’t tend to it, it would put more upon Eileen to do, especially in the years to come. So, we decided to fill it in rather than replace the liner. The pool was nice while we had it but especially since personal energy is a commodity these days, we’d rather expend our energies on items other than on pool maintenance.
Life is full of choices and changes; cancer has precipitated even more of them than we were ready to make. Even without that, various stages of life also present us with choices and changes. I think we would have made the same pool choice even if cancer wasn’t complicating the picture. It was just time. There are choices and changes that we all have to make as the clock of life ticks forward.

In Pursuit

So, our baseball playing son was to be home yesterday afternoon but there was a glitch in the plans. With airline ticket in hand, a roster problem caused the Phillies to ask our son for a favor. They asked him to stay on for a few more days to help them out. He obliged. The Phillies were thankful and told him that if he ever needs a personal recommendation that they would be glad to provide it. Our son’s life-long goal of playing professional baseball is coming to an end, and although he has to change his career goals, we are thankful that he is keeping a balanced head through the process.
As parents, we all hope that our children’s dreams can be fulfilled. Yet, we often lose sight of some of the most important blessings in life when we get too focused on their finish line. The real blessing in all of our lives is found in the pursuit of our goals, not in the goals themselves. It’s in the pursuit that we learn the lessons of perseverance, character, endurance, and encouragement. It’s where we learn to mature in our interactions with people amidst our challenges. However, if we are so focused on the finish line, which is retirement for some, then we often miss the greatest blessings of life along the way. Whether it’s the goals of our children or our own goals, it’s good to remember that life is lived between the lines: The start line and the finish line. Whether we meet our goals or not, the person we become in the pursuit is what really matters, much more so than the goal itself.

With Honor

So here is the deal. Except for the afternoon of my wonder nap, this has been a rough week. Only twice have I been to sleep before 3am. The upside is that it gives me plenty of time to think about things which I’m going to blog about in these next several posts!! But I want to be clear about one thing. I well know of the plight of people taking the same Gleevec dosage but they have terrible reactions. Mine are minimal in comparison. Although some patients escape the rapture of Gleevec, most do not. Furthermore, there are much harsher chemo drugs out there which put people through living hell. Thank God, that’s not me.
I have two main audiences for this blog. First, I have those who like the life lessons and life issue posts. Secondly, there are those who just want to know how I’m doing. I try to keep a mix of both, although formulated to keep the symptom reports to a minimum. I don’t like to dwell on the symptoms and I don’t like others to view me as a bag of symptoms either. Over all, I’m doing well…in comparison. Even the sleepless nights are nothing new and have been a factor of my arm for years. It’s just that the Gleevec adds substantially to the drama. If I could get rid of either the arm symptoms or Gleevec symptoms, I’d get rid of the arm problems. I can “stomach” the Gleevec and push on. The arm is almost always the genesis of my misery. So, weep not for me; I’m doing just fine like I have for years.
In other news, our baseball playing son is coming home a few days early. I mentioned the other day that he is retiring from the Phillies. Since he gave them notice, he was relegated to help in the bullpen but wouldn’t be playing. However, in the 16th inning (yes, 16th inning) of a game they needed him. He went in and made some “game saving” (according to the announcer) plays and bunted the winning run to third. The point is, he could have given a half-hearted attempt since he would be leaving in a week or so. But he gave it his all. Yesterday the manager called him in to talk to him. He said that usually when someone retires he is on his own to get home. However, since he’s a "good guy" etc, they are going to pay for his plane trip home, luggage, and let him go home early but pay him up to his retirement day. Our son is very appreciative. As I told him the other day, we can’t always control what happens to us but we can always react in a way in which we hold our head high and act with honor.

Grin and Bear It

I was very thankful for feeling as well as I did yesterday afternoon for as long as did. But I suppose good things come to an end sometimes. As my stomach and arm steadily misbehaved, the rest of my symptoms made an appearance too. They just couldn’t leave well enough alone!! So, I finally got to sleep at about 3:30 or 4am early Tuesday morning. I was on the go all day Tuesday and didn’t get a nap. I hope that my weariness this evening can out-duel my stomach and arm tonight even though I just took another dose of Gleevec. If I didn’t know of so many other cases in which they’d gladly trade me stations in life, I might complain and whine a little. But for as long as I can draw a breath I hope to stay on the positive side of the curve.
In tomorrow’s blog I want to begin a conversation about some items on my mind. I'll talk to you then.

Wonder Nap

Monday started out as most days do. I got myself out of bed, went to a meeting, ran a few errands, and then back home. By about noon I was feeling very rough. I ate lunch and then took a nap. I slept for about three hours only awaking to answer the telephone several times. However, when I finally got up I felt like a new man. I haven’t felt that good in a very long while and it was good timing too. This was our youngest daughter’s sixteenth birthday and we had plans. I was able to truly enjoy our outing without something (pain) competing very hard for my attention. It was a great breath of fresh air and I am very thankful. The good feeling lasted until the evening when I had to take my Gleevec. Soon afterwards my stomach began its wayward behavior and I did some typing which generally awakens my arm. Still though, it wasn’t too bad and I was nearly euphoric over how well I felt, regardless of how long it lasted.
I am constantly reminded of how blessed I am. I’m so thankful to God for my wonder nap.

What I’ve Learned

In a phone conversation with our younger son last night, he confirmed his decision to retire from professional baseball and return back to school. He told the Phillies that his retirement will be effective July 31st.
We knew he had been thinking about this decision for quite a while as he made application to University of West Florida and transferred his credits from University of South Alabama. He’s had a great baseball career. Now he’ll pursue a different career.
In other news, a friend from North Carolina emailed me yesterday and asked what I had learned through my cancer journey thus far. The rest of this blog will be the crux of what I wrote back to her:
What have I learned? Dispersed through my last week or so of blog posts I’ve written about attitude and perspective. That is perhaps what I’ve learned the most in this journey. Regardless of what happens to the physical body, I still have sway over my attitude. I’ve also learned that regardless of how long the battle might be, my faithfulness and diligence must persevere. As I wrote someone the other day, “Just because I have cancer doesn’t mean that I can be a jerk to Eileen or anyone else.” Having cancer, another malady, or any other hardship is not an excuse to let our animalistic instincts and tendencies roam. That is, to let ourselves be governed by our natural tendencies toward bitterness, envy, inconsiderateness, or other Self-serving attitudes. Instead, we have to choose to live life on a higher (spiritual) plane. That is, count our blessings, be thankful always, and find the good in everything. Finally, I’ve learned more clearly that death is not a matter of “if” but a matter of “when.” Therefore, the “when” carries less sting and makes it more essential that I care about “how” I die. I hope to be strong enough to die living what I profess and teach.

Judgmental

There was a knock at the door yesterday evening. I answered the door and spent the next forty-five minutes trying to reeducate a person who was determined that I am going to hell solely because I am Catholic. Who knows, maybe he has some inside information but it’s unfortunate that knowing nothing about me, other than my denomination, he determined that I’m going to hell. I enjoyed the interaction although I totally frustrated him. He wanted to play gottcha but he just got himself all tangled up. I suggested that he stop judging people, especially according to their denomination without knowing anything about their relationship with God. Hopefully he left being a little less judgmental than when he came, although I doubt this fella comes back to our house.