Hijacked

Stories from a Life I Didn't Plan

Category: Faith (Page 4 of 5)

White Blood Cells and Platelets

March 18, 2016 /

White Blood Cells and Platelets | Why Are They so Important?

The most closely monitored values during chemotherapy are white blood cells and platelets. Low white blood cells and platelets are a common side effect of chemotherapy. Levels of white blood cells and platelets reflect how equipped your body is to fight off disease and how able it is able to clot when bleeding occurs. The Mayo Clinic and National Institutes of Health Clinical Center provide nice overviews of the roles white blood cells and platelets play in maintaining overall health.

If those results fall within acceptable ranges, then chemotherapy continues. But, if they fall below established counts, chemo is put on hold while measures are taken to boost those counts. Undoubtedly you have seen commercials on television for Neulasta, but there are other medications, such as Neupogen, that also work to boost white blood cell production. The medications are painful to take because they are working in your bones to stimulate production of these much needed white blood cells. From experience, I can tell you it hurts something like those growing pains when you were young. Unfortunately, boosting the white blood cells can cause platelet production to crash. So, the oncologist has to balance it all to get the right combination so that both values fit the criteria that means a patient is healthy enough for chemotherapy.

Unfortunately for me, my white blood cells and platelets continued falling this week, leaving me with low values that were just within the acceptable range for my scheduled chemotherapy treatment this week. However, they are below what is considered normal for the average person: so I have a high risk for getting an infection or having trouble with my blood clotting if I get a cut.

Preparing me for what could be my final chemo treatment, my wise and gentle oncologist reassured me that approximately 80% of patients on this regimen only make it through treatment number ten and that I had done well to get this far with the difficult course of treatment. So, I am confident that no matter how things go on from here, that I have received the treatments I need to beat this disease and resume my course on the journey of life.

White Blood Cells and Platelets

2015 Messiah Community Sing and Play Along at Stanford

Other Lows not Measured by a Complete Blood Count

What I am finding most difficult today are the instructions to be very careful to not get sick, which is a much greater risk given my low white blood cell and platelet counts. This translates into do not go anywhere or see anyone except for treatment purposes.

While on this detour, I have followed the directions of my extremely conservative oncologist and taken time off work, avoided places like grocery stores, and stayed away from other places where there are many people and the risk of infection is greatest. In December, I pled for an exception to attend the Community Sing and Play Along Messiah at Stanford University. I was instructed to go masked and gloved, but feeling like a sideshow was utterly worth it to attend this favorite annual seasonal celebration!

Solitude is starting to take a toll after months of this self-imposed, but doctor prescribed, isolation. After being admonished at my appointment with the oncologist this week to be very careful and to abandon my plans for a quick trip into the bookstore, I had to postpone plans to visit with friends in my home and change plans for my ride to chemo due to a  sore throat.

While I am so grateful for the love and support of my friends and family, I am required to avoid much needed time spent with them. This week, I found it impossibly difficult and have been overwhelmed by tears more than once. Though humiliating to admit, it’s only too true. As I mentioned in my post Bestowing the Gift of Presence, we need people, especially the ones who love and care for us.

I want to be well and will do all I can to be completely healthy again, but this has not been a quick and easy detour. My strength sometimes wanes and in those moments I find myself borne up by you faithful ones. I am infinitely grateful for your persistence in accompanying me on this bumpy, unexpected cancer detour. Your companionship through cyberspace, USPS, thoughtful care packages, and other creative means gives me the encouragement necessary to keep fighting the good fight until I am back on the paved road of life’s journey.

So, if anyone has time to Skype, FB message, or call someone you know going through a challenging time, you could make a huge difference. I know I would love to say hello for a few minutes since I cannot visit with you in person. Feel free to  comment below, email me, or send me a message on Facebook if you’d like to set a time to connect. Or, if you have another friend going through hard times, I encourage you to find a way to remind them you care. A fellow cancer patient called me today and after we chatted, commiserated, and encouraged one another for awhile, we both felt better. You can make a felt difference like this in someone’s life today. It doesn’t have to be a time intensive contact, but it can make a meaningful difference for the person.

Thank you for sticking with me during the high and low white blood cells and platelets!

celebrating a lifetime of love
Photograph courtesy of Catherine Leanne Photography

Celebrating a Lifetime of Love

March 11, 2016 /

A couple of weeks after my parents’ wedding anniversary, my sisters and I organized a dinner and family get together celebrating a lifetime of love. My parents’ love for each other and for each of us who was born into this microcosm of loving commitment.

Celebrating a Lifetime of Love

Celebrating a Lifetime of Love with a sparkling cider toast to Mom and Dad – Photograph courtesy of Catherine Leanne Photography

I have watched my parents for a lifetime and made some observations. Frankly, I think that 53 years is a pretty amazing benchmark and I hope that the people in my life that I love will benefit from the lessons I have learned from my dad and mom.

Something I have learned from Dad and Mom is that you must care about and take care of one another.  My mom fixes my dad’s favorite meals just because he likes them and it makes him happy, even if they aren’t her favorites, too. Dad always carries in the groceries and other heavy cargo to and from the car for Mom. Their relationship is symbiotic. They look out for one another and show their care and affection in these simple, yet meaningful ways. Simply put, they are a great team.

Dad and Mom also remember why they fell in love in the first place. But, even more than the memories of the love at first or second sight, is the lifetime of shared experiences, the highs and lows, the stresses and accomplishments that glue them together. After 53 years, sometimes it is hard to see who one is without the other. They complement one another.

I might even dare write, although they might take issue with my choice of words, that my parents are unabashed feminists. During my lifetime of family memories, I only remember my dad supporting and encouraging my mom to follow her interests and reach her goals. He always believed she could do whatever she put her mind to do. It never diminished who he was and he never felt threatened by her achievements or by hearing her opinions. They made decisions together. They discussed things as equal partners and proceeded down agreed upon, sometimes heatedly agreed upon, paths. This model of sharing life together and joint decision making is an aspect of their relationship that I am proud to have as part of my heritage. It helped to shape me as the independent and confident person I have become.

Likewise, Dad never set limits on what he thought we, his four daughters, could do. He taught me to change a tire when I was old enough to drive a car, but urged me to get a good job so I could be in a position to have someone else change it for me. Dad told us we could do anything we wanted. There were no boundaries Dad put on our dreams. I am grateful for Dad, who affirmed and believed we could do the amazing.

Mom was always the heart of our home. She is the one who greeted us when we came home from school, taught us to cook, bake, sew and other lost arts of homemaking. Mom read us bedtime stories and colored in our coloring books with us. She is the one who faced down teachers when we came home in tears and later explained to us why we were in the wrong once she understood the grown up version of events. Mom demonstrated how to be a loving, protective caregiver, while modeling how to be a competent, capable woman, worthy of being listened to with respect for her wisdom, knowledge and experience.

Celebrating a Lifetime of Love

The Original Six Crowes – Photograph courtesy of Catherine Leanne Photography

At the center of their relationship, Dad and Mom have faith in God and that anchors them and the rest of us, too. Through dark and difficult days, Dad and Mom are quick to reassure us that God is faithful and that he hears our prayers, even when we do not see it played out immediately in daily life.

In recent years, our family has faced daunting, unexpected challenges, the latest being my detour with cancer. Yet in the midst of it all, Mom and Dad pull together, lean on one another, and become the oaken strength needed to pull us all through. Their unshakable faith in God and in each of us steers us all through the deep waters of the unknown with the assurance that we will be okay. Things may not end up how we thought or wanted, but we will still be okay.

One of the fears I had for my parents as they grew older was that they would find retirement boring and become antiquated and dated in their thinking. Throughout my life, I had heard of people who could not figure out what to do with themselves and their health deteriorated. Or, they lost touch with the technological advancements of the times and unwittingly ostracized themselves by becoming difficult to include because of their inflexible ways.

Celebrating a Lifetime of Love

Family Celebrating a Lifetime of Love – Photograph courtesy of Catherine Leanne Photography

This has certainly not been the case with my parents. In their retirement years, they have disproved the old saying, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” While I could comment on that being due to them being Crowes and not dogs, I will resist the temptation and simply say I think it is inspiring.

Since retiring, my parents have each developed new and unique interests they pursue individually. I can imagine how hard it would be to have dinner conversation with someone every night if both did the same thing all day everyday. Their pastimes give them something novel and interesting to share with one another and with the rest of us. Mom has developed her knowledge of technology and helps Dad with his projects when needed. It is exciting to see them craft their skills in new areas.

As you can see, we had compelling reasons to be celebrating a lifetime of love with our parents and boy, did we have fun! My sisters and I decided to put Dad and Mom through all the traditional paces of young love, like cutting the cake together, linking arms to drink to a teetotaler’s toast, and kissing on demand. They good naturedly played along, making the evening all the more festive.

But, we also planned activities that we had shared with Dad and Mom over the years. We played games, sang gathered around the piano while Mom played, and ate a delicious meal together, all of which was an integral part of our family life when we were growing up. And, I remembered how much fun we were together! I smiled and laughed and enjoyed celebrating a lifetime of love because I am a result of that love and commitment. I would not be the person I am today without that specific set of parents and those smart, multitalented, wild, and crazy sisters.

Surrounded by this great throng of people, I was struck by the many and varied talents represented. And to think, it all started with a young couple in love. Each of my sisters is intelligent, articulate, artistic, and funny. Their children have benefited from their unique talents and developed their individual expression of the innate artist within.

My eldest niece, Catie, has developed one of her great talents into a successful photography business and has graciously allowed me to use her photos in this post. Please check out more of her work in the following links:   Catherine Leanne Photography and Catherine Leanne Photography Blog . If you know of anyone in need of a creative photographer for an upcoming event in Northern California and beyond, I encourage you to contact Catie.

Celebrating a Lifetime of Love

Two Original Crowes’ Anniversary Cake – Photograph courtesy of Catherine Leanne Photography

Each one of my sisters used their gifts and talents to organize this celebration. Alice planned the menu and delivered food from Tantardini’s, a European Bakery-Deli. Absolutely delicious. She also spearheaded the keepsake picture frame we all signed for a picture taken by Catie to commemorate the celebration. Leanne coordinated the upcoming not-so-secret-now getaway we decided they needed as a break from the stress of chemotherapy and other daily pressures. Lynnette oversaw the creation of the balloon bouquets by her teenaged sons, designed the table centerpiece, and created a cake that was both delicious and beautiful (assisted in the final touches by her twin sister, of course.) There were other things they did, but my sometimes unreliable, chemo affected brain cannot recall it all now.

Forgive me if I have crowed enthusiastically over my family, but I feel enormously blessed to have been born to these parents and to have grown up with such witty and interesting sisters. As we were celebrating a lifetime of love, first and foremost, we celebrated our parents’ love for each other, but I couldn’t help but reflect on how much love over our lifetime they have lavished on us.

I think that’s an incredible reason to celebrate.

Unlikely Fellows on the Cancer Detour

March 4, 2016 /

The unlikely fellows on the cancer detour have been one of my great surprises during the past few months. Soon after recovering from surgery, I looked for cancer support groups and found Cancer CAREpoint, a local non-profit offering free counseling, as well as cancer support groups.

After attending my first support group, I was hooked! It was such a relief to find other women who were grappling with doubts, fears, and struggles similar to what I was facing. From these groups, I have Unlikely Fellows on the Cancer Detour
made personal connections with a couple of the others and we talk outside of the group. I would like to say we meet for coffee, but that’s off the table for those of us who have to watch our exposure to the public due to the risk of infection.

But, when we talk on the phone or at the oncologist’s office, we may run the gamut of emotions and topics from mutually bemoaning the distressing loss of hair; to other surprising, and sometimes humorous, changes in our appearance; side effects; and family issues, just to name a few. With these faithful fellows, I have found understanding and encouragement.  Often, we are laughing one second and on the verge of tears in the next.

These unlikely fellows on the cancer detour share a body of knowledge that none of us ever expected to learn and carry a card to a club none of us ever wished to join. Yet, in the face of the unexpected turn that life has taken us, I admire the courage and commitment to live that these fellows embody, whether by courageously facing a new therapy or graciously dealing with unpleasant side effects. Some of them are survivors, some are like me and just on a cancer detour, some face recurrences, and others are walking with cancer down their final stretch of the journey of life. Their courage and grace inspire and challenge me. Some encourage with their outlook on life and others on their tenacity.  For example, one person I met was given about six months to live and seven years later is still standing.

And, the faith of one of the select few closest to me inspires me. Even with the ups and downs of treatment, she has the assurance that if God heals her then great, but if not, then he will be with her no matter what. Her faith inspires and challenges me to put life and cancer in perspective and to live with hope for the future.

The shared wisdom and experience of these unexpected companions help me as I try to find my way. Although I know each experience is unique, still their experiences help me realize that I am not alone and although they may be unlikely fellows on the cancer detour, the accompaniment eases me down the road.

How Are You Is a Complicated Question

February 12, 2016 /

A couple of weeks ago, a genuinely kind, concerned person asked me how I was. That seemingly innocuous question hurtled me into utter confusion. I found myself simply staring mutely until the moment was interrupted. Since receiving a cancer diagnosis last August, I have found that how are you is a complicated question.

Before I was diagnosed with cancer, I could easily answer when asked how I was. But, after getting the cancer diagnosis, I realized that I am not confident answering that question. Following surgery, a series of tests determined if there was any visible cancer remaining. In the meantime, I had no idea how I was. That is when I realized that for me how are you is a complicated question.

Since beginning chemotherapy, I have had no diagnostic tests. Chemotherapy obscures the results of many tests used to diagnose cancer, so I do not know if chemo is doing what we believe it will or not. I trust in my educated and experienced oncologist to make decisions he knows will result in the best outcome for me, but I still do not know how I am.

Every week or two, I have blood tests to see how my body is responding to chemo. But, in between times, I may feel perfectly well–at least well for a person on chemo–yet my blood work will show low results, which means that my body is not really doing as well as it should be.

Because I do not know the answer to how are you, recently I asked my oncologist how I am doing and explained how I had not known to answer the question when people asked me. I am grateful for his response. After telling me it was nobody’s business how I was doing, he further shared, with wisdom and economy of words, “Nobody knows how they are doing when they are on chemotherapy.” I am going to keep his response in mind when asked that so very complicated question and simply respond that I do not know, which I hope will be an improvement over a blank stare.

Ways to Support Someone During a Serious Health Crisis

January 29, 2016 /
ways to support someone during a serious health crisis

Chemo Infusion Number 2

Since I began leading a very sequestered life due to chemotherapy, many of my family, friends, and neighbors have offered to help me however they can. So, I have been thinking of suggestions for ways to support someone during a serious health crisis.

As an independent, single person, sometimes I find asking for and accepting help difficult. I hate to inconvenience anyone and hesitate to ask if I think I will be imposing. And frankly, sometimes I cannot think about getting dressed, let alone what I might need. Nevertheless, I am deeply grateful to these kind folks for their offers and have taken many up on their kindness.

First, try to find out about the person’s needs and health limitations. Then, decide how you are able and willing to help . Finally, make a sincere, specific offer of assistance.

In addition to the myriad tasks my mother does for me, I have a neighbor and friends who get me groceries or other miscellany at the store; a friend who offers to go to chemo with me; a friend who brings dinner on the weeks my mom is at home and brings various items from the store; a sister who acts as my personal shopper and is not a bit bothered by becoming the annoying person in the store on her cell phone while she FaceTimes me to show me a product before making a purchase; a friend who comes over to walk with me; and another friend who calls to say, “I’m on my way to Target or Costco, can I pick up anything for you?” It is a lot less intimidating to ask someone to buy something for you when they are already at the store.

One of the casualties of health is energy. Staying on top of everyday tasks as simple as housework and meal preparation can become an unachievable goal.  If you have time and are willing, consider offering to sweep, mop, vacuum, clean the bathtub, launder clothes, or take out the trash. Maybe bringing a meal would be helpful, once you find out what dietary restrictions have to be followed. Perhaps you could take the car to get gas or offer to drive to appointments or help with chores, like banking or going to the post office. If they are in a chemo fog, or have chemo brain, they might need help organizing tasks like paying bills and keeping track of medical appointments and prescriptions.

If you are not sure what you can do, I have a few other suggestions of ways to support someone during a serious health crisis, and I encourage you to check out other websites that share creative ways to be supportive, like 20 MORE Things You Can Do When Someone You Love Has Cancer,  44 Ways to Make the Day of Someone With Cancer,  How to Help a Friend Going Through Treatment for Cancer, My Angry Cancer, and We Need to Stop Saying, “Let Me Know If You Need Anything” .

For me, when my friends have been specific about how they can help me, it makes it a lot easier to say, “Thanks. I would really appreciate that.” And, I do. I truly do appreciate each kind act you do for me.

 

Bestowing the Gift of Presence

January 22, 2016 /

Before I was diagnosed with cancer, I often felt inadequate and uncomfortable when I went to visit friends or relatives in the hospital. Of course I would gladly pray and offer encouraging words, but I often walked away feeling as though my visit had little impact. This feeling was not because I  believed the prayers or words of encouragement that I offered were meaningless, but because when I walked out of the hospital room I saw no visible change in the physical condition of the person. It seemed like my visit had not made a difference. I did not understand that I had been bestowing the gift of presence. In other words, I showed up and accompanied the individual in the moment of need.

Now, five months after my own diagnosis, I realize that bestowing the gift of presence, or simply showing up, is the most important thing. My admission to the hospital was very quick. I had a doctor’s appointment and a couple of hours later, I was admitted to the hospital. None of my family members had time to get to me before I had to go to the hospital, so a dear friend took me and stayed with me. She supported me by bestowing the gift of presence as I did the paperwork and tried to navigate the unfamiliar workings of a hospital.

A few hours later, my mother arrived and never left. Just a few short hours after that, the cancer diagnosis was made and I had another diagnostic test before being prepped for surgery the next morning. So later that night, my dad and three sisters all came to see me, as well as long-time family friends. My two oldest nieces came. My older sister stayed, holding my  hand, all night in the room with me the night before surgery and my youngest sister the following night.

The presence of my family and friends comforted and encouraged me as a tangible demonstration of their love. I did not have time to grow anxious about surgery or even about having cancer because I was surrounded by the people most important to me. As my hospital stay extended, other friends came to visit. They were there with me and somehow this unexpected cancer detour felt better, easier, and far less frightening.

As  I continue with chemotherapy, I have many friends and family members who are with me. They call, send texts, cards and gifts; go with me to appointments; post comments on my blog, Facebook page or Caringbridge pages, surrounding me with their prayers, love, and encouragement.

This cancer detour is a lot less lonely and frightening because of all of you. Thank you for bestowing the gift of presence. Your presence makes a world of difference to me.

 

Managing Chemo Side Effects

January 15, 2016 /

One of the most important conversations I had with the oncologist before starting chemotherapy highlighted all possible side effects and how to go about managing chemo side effects.

Nausea, cold sensitivity, infertility, hair loss, skin dryness, neuropathy, low white cell count, low platelet count, risk of infection, mouth sores, etcetera. For each chemo regimen, the list varies, but nothing on any list is very appealing.

Knowing what might lay ahead helped me feel equipped and  empowered as I started chemo. In fact after the first round of chemo, I thought I knew what to expect and talked to the oncologist about how to mitigate the most bothersome side effect that I had experienced. I felt confident that I was well prepared for dealing with this chemo thing.

Then came round two. Side effects were similar, except that the main side effect from round one was no longer an issue and the preventive measures I took actually made me miserable.

From round to round, I have found that the side effects can vary somewhat or other times widely. Sometimes one will be worse than another and just as soon as I have a plan with the oncologist to mitigate the most bothersome, another pops up and the first one doesn’t seem so bad.

Yes, it makes planning difficult. But sometimes, it is also a relief when nausea that had persisted from round to round suddenly isn’t a problem at all in one round. I still believe that being informed and prepared for chemo is preferable to going in without the information. I am grateful for sites like livestrong.com and the American Cancer Society that provide information about the side effects of chemotherapy for different kinds of cancer.

For me, managing chemo side effects is a little like playing a video game: Just when you think you have it mastered, you get bumped up to the next level where the environment is the same, but the variables have changed.

They say forewarned is forearmed and indeed I can say that at this point in my chemotherapy I am ready for just about anything.

 

An Unshakeable Legacy of Love
Granny and Pa Crowe

An Unshakeable Legacy of Love

January 8, 2016 /

Two days ago my Granny Crowe would have turned 101 years old if she were still alive. Although Granny left us before we were ready, she left her family an unshakeable legacy of love.

When I was a girl, on Saturdays my family would drive to Granny and Pa’s where my sisters and I would play with our cousins. We would run around outside and do who knows what, but we had fun because we were at Granny and Pa’s.

My most precious memory of going to Granny and Pa’s was how special I felt in the middle of that grand group of cousins. Granny had a gift for making people feel like they were precious and exquisitely loved. Among the murder of Crowes, I was an insignificant pipsqueak. I was born with crooked feet, a speech impediment, and brown eyes. I was the second of four girls and there was nothing significant about me except for one thing: most of the Crowes had the most beautiful blue eyes.

But not me.  My eyes were brown. Over the years they have lightened up to a more nondescript color, but when I was a girl they were most definitely brown. Granny made sure that having those brown eyes made that crooked footed, tongue-tied little girl feel special. I believe Granny made each of us feel that loved and special, even though there was a great bunch of us.

Nothing made me know I was loved quite like being drawn to Granny’s breast in a hug so deep I could almost feel her heart beating.  Granny’s love flowed into me through her sweet embrace and touched me to my soul. I knew I was loved deeply.

Granny and Pa’s legacy lives on. Recently, one of my Crowe cousins hosted a family Christmas party. I was excited to see pictures of the event via Facebook. I marveled at the number of people attending the party and the smiles on their faces as they enjoyed being together as a family during the holidays, just like we loved going to Granny and Pa’s on Saturdays. Those pictures reminded me of how Granny left an unshakeable legacy of love in the heart of more than one little, brown-eyed girl.

 

Unexpected Cancer Detour: Hijacked Once Again

November 24, 2015 /

When I began writing My Hijacked Life, I had no idea that an unexpected cancer detour was just ahead.

About the time I left off blogging last year, I had begun to lose my appetite and consequently, lose weight. Along with that, I would often have cold hands, heart palpitations, and I lacked energy. These signs were so subtle that I didn’t think much about them indicating that something was wrong. In fact, the unexplained 20 pound weight loss for someone who has been weight conscious for an entire lifetime, was a great boon. Since I was experiencing extreme stress at work and at home, I simply attributed the weight loss to life’s turmoil and pressure.

As 2015 dawned, I faced some health challenges. At the end of May, I contracted a virus that should have gone away in a matter of days, but stayed a full two weeks. Summer vacation began, but instead of staying up all night catching up on reading and or having movie marathons, I was going to bed at 9 p.m.

At the beginning of July, my mother and I took a once in a lifetime trip to Europe. Unbelievably, I was sick and tired the entire time, even as I was trying to fit in everything on my must see and do list.

Again stateside, I visited my primary care physician who told me it could take a month or so to get things under control, so I assumed everything was good.

Meanwhile, I began to ready things for the school year and in spite of flagging energy, I had things all set for the students’ arrival on the first day of school.

Just before classes started, a specialist ran a broad blood panel after I described symptoms I had been experiencing. The results showed I was extremely anemic.  After teaching only one day, I was sent to another specialist who recommended immediate hospitalization for blood transfusions in preparation for tests to identify the cause of my blood loss.

Diagnostic tests revealed a cancerous tumor, so the same evening I had a CT scan before having surgery early the next morning. An experienced surgeon removed the tumor, leaving clean margins. Tests showed the lymph nodes and liver were clear, which was welcome news.

The recommended oncologist ordered additional tests to determine whether or not I required chemotherapy. After an excruciating three weeks, I sat flanked by family as the oncologist told me that I would need chemo: Another curve in my unexpected cancer detour.

I prepared to be off work for six months. Dutifully, I  got my flu shot and had my teeth cleaned as recommended before starting chemo. On the Friday evening before starting chemo, after teaching all day, I returned to the hospital where my skilled surgeon installed a mediport that would enable me to receive chemo. On Saturday, I visited a local historical landmark with a friend. Sunday, I went to church and made lesson plans. Then, on Monday I was back at school for my last day with my students.

Before I knew it, I was sitting in a large chair with a tube connected to the mediport in my shoulder having various cancer fighting substances pumped through my body. I looked across the room at a lady who said, “You are too young to be going through this.” I wholeheartedly agree. Often, I seem to be the youngest person in the infusion room. So, to say my unexpected cancer detour has been surreal would be an understatement.

Life altering. Overwhelming. Redefining. A new normal. My very own B.C.: Before Cancer. Any of those might do.

I can be walking down a hallway and that truth suddenly flashes in my mind, my stomach lurches, and I nearly miss a step because that is the new me. I have had cancer. Hopefully my unexpected cancer detour will soon be in my past, not my future, but only time will tell.

While the events leading up to my unexpected cancer detour are indelibly etched in my memory, I can’t see the future quite as easily. I do not know what my life’s new normal will be, how I should plan, or exactly how this detour will shape me. Should I quit my job and travel the world using up my retirement or should I work for a few more years to maximize payouts in my twilight years? While the truth is that nobody knows what the future holds, that reality is painfully clear to me.

My oncologist tells me that chemo is a temporary life alteration, but this I know: for good or for ill, I am not the same and will never be the person I was B.C.: before my unexpected cancer detour.

Once again, my life has been hijacked.

Let’s Go Out to the Ball Game!

September 24, 2014 /

Misc Photos 021One of my early childhood memories is going to a Little League baseball game with my grown up first cousin once removed to watch my second cousins play ball. Since the memories of the very young seem to be more impression and sentiment than fact and precision, I do not remember the details of why I was the only out of my three sisters who went, but I have a vague impression of watching little people move around out on a diamond and enjoying a grape flavored lollipop. Somehow this mere impression of an experience left a tally mark on the positive side of life experiences. So, when a friend asked me, a person wholly indifferent to professional sports, to go to a local professional baseball game, I unhesitatingly agreed.

Out of all of the organized sports in the world, I probably understand baseball the best. It is not nearly as distracting as football or basketball. For me, there are four people at the most that you really have to pay attention to at one time, and that is only when the bases are loaded. Just narrowing the field helps me focus on where the action is going to be so I don’t miss out on the exciting stuff people are going to be reporting about on television afterward.

Without knowing much about what I was getting myself into, I checked the weather and made the appropriate preparations I thought would make my game viewing a comfortable experience. My general impression before arriving at our seats was that we had special, reserved seats and wouldn’t spend the evening fending off the crowd, the vendors, or team fanatics. To anyone with knowledge of sporting events, the term “club suite” will mean much more than it did to me until we arrived. Not only was the club suite located almost perfectly behind the catcher (which even I could figure out provided a wonderful view of the game), but it was also a very nice glassed in box with theater style seats, a mini sink, a hotel room-sized refrigerator stocked with soft drinks, and plentiful catered game appropriate foods.

The entire evening was a delight! The only negative thing I might say is that I picked the worst time to leave the game and missed the only ball knocked out of the park all night. Murphy’s Law. I console myself with the knowledge that the homer was for the visiting team, but admit I still would have liked to have seen a professional ball player knock it out of the park in person.

However, this small disappointment was insignificant in the overall excitement of the evening. Jumbo hotdogs with condiments galore; wonderfully well-mannered suitemates; and an exciting baseball match made for a happy memory of a lifetime.

I may not have left the game with the taste of grape lollipop in my mouth, but even though I am not a true sports enthusiast, I left with the happy memory of another well-enjoyed and sweet baseball game experience.

Misc Photos 025

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