Radioactive

Guilty Pleasure

In My Bloodstream: Lisinopril,  Amlodopine,  Omeprazole, Tamsulosin
On The Stereo:Total Eclipse Of The Heart: Bonnie Tyler

This week has been revitalizing for me.  My face has recovered nicely, finally.  I was able to shave again, after a month of saving face, so to speak.  The cancer cream has done its job.  Whatever cancer blemishes not erased by the cream mixture, will eventually require excision.  But not right now, and not for quite a while.

Kathy continues to teach her grade four class and is in love with her kids.  Thy continue to mesmerize her, with their humor and consideration for others.  The descriptive word pictures she paints for me give me great hope for our world.

So many other news reports, unfortunately, do not do justice to our real lives.  If it is not horrible, then it is not fit to be reported.  The bombastic media could erode your good judgement, if you let it.  My daily updates from Kath are my best source of life, as it should be.  I think much of my sanity, what there is of it, and my optimism, is supported by her schoolchildren.  And kids do say the darndest things.  I usually get at least one shoulder-bouncing, out loud, belly shaking laugh, during my evening debriefing.  It is usually accompanied by a ritual cocktail, as we begin preparing our dinner.  My favorite time of day.

While I was writing last week's diary, and on contemplating this week's story, I have been ducking in and out of shadows.

I am so thankful for what I have.  I do not mean that as a trite statement.  I am not pandering to the needs of others, or writing what might be expected of me.  From the bottom of my heart and from the depth of my soul, I cannot contemplate a more full and brighter life than is mine.

I know, more money, better health, maybe even a better class of friends, might be considered by many, to be easy adds to a wish list.  I understand.  But it is not so.

I am delighted with my life.  I have it all.  Sure, I most certainly have issues, as does everyone.  But I am so thankful to be alive.  To have my family and friends so caring, is beyond my comprehension.  They are loyal, faithful, forgiving and loving, beyond belief.  Every discussion, note, call, visit and thought, gives me hope, not just for my life, but for all of us.

How I have been gifted with riches like these, is a wonderment.  It is not deserved.

I have been undeservedly rewarded.  And I don't know why.

While I live most every moment of my life in sunshine, I know so many others, who have not fared so well.  Friends and family have passed on.  Many younger than I.  And many, without the chronic health issues that have hounded my life through its entirety.  

We have all heard that only the good die young.  And many have unknowingly created that truth.  My heart has ached all too often for those who have preceded me in their exit from this world.  The guilt that I own, stabs at me almost daily.  Why am I still here?  The incredibly bizarre series of misaligned events that have allowed me to be here, still here, are incomprehensible.  

I have grieved and cried so often.  I realize I am not alone in doing so.  A conversation regarding the ill health of others, now moves me to tears.  It was not always like this.  But it is now. Age and a more clear view of our sunset are the likely culprits.   Poor Kath has witnessed my aberrant behavior all too often.  She knows my secrets.  A good commercial can fetch a tear.

I wrestle, earnestly, with the pleasure of life and the guilt of still being alive.  My paradox.  I am sorry, so deeply sorry, when we lose a contemporary and I am watching from the sidelines.  There seems to be no fairness.  In life, or in death.  I am confounded by my own longevity.  I feel a need to apologize for it.  I want to tell people that it is not my fault.

Forgiveness does not come to me easily.  It never has.  I am aware of my weakness.  And I believe it to be a necessity in order to live a life of comfort and peace.  I work at it daily and, in my own mind, I have made some headway.  I can now reflect on people who might have caused pain to me or my family, realize that we all see events through our own, different lens.  Many tribulations which once caused me some amount of grief, I have put behind me.  I am able to actually laugh at many of life's trials.  They have, with the great healing power of time, become more trivial.  The pebble once in my shoe, has been removed.

No matter how I try, I am still unable to forgive, and forget, the damage done on a single, closely personal matter.  There is no value in rehashing the cause and the damage that can never be undone.  My bride cries and I remain unforgiving.  This is not how our lives should be.  It is not deserved.  That, I believe.  Unconditionally.

It is not so much that I do not want to see my child bride cry.  I do.  But only when it is accompanied by her laughter.  I cannot bear to see her hurt.  I am here, with her, to make her life better.  Sometimes, I hope, I actually succeed.

So, this is the singular event in my life that I am unable to rationalize.  My animus simply refuses to subside, no matter how I try, and how much I pray.

The gift of cancer

As difficult as this is to believe, and as I have stated previously, cancer has been my gift.  Think back on all that I, and my family, have received.  We have overcome, perhaps, the greatest of obstacles.  A disease that has, multiple times, tried to kill me, and has yet to do so.  My family has learned to cope with that shadow, as have my most precious friends.  We have learned how to manage an unfathomable monster.  We have suffered and we have cared.  We have been fighters.  And we were shown a love, that we did not know existed.

There is no doubt in my mind, that I am so much a better person than I was pre melanoma.  I am appreciative of all that I have.  Doug and Kristin moved to Fort Myers for six months, to be with Kath and me, during very dark days.  Our neighbors brought us food.  They gave us prayers and they gave us love.

Miracles did happen.  If you have followed my story, you know that to be true.  We were tested, all of us, and here we are.  Still here.  And oh, so grateful.  All thanks to my gift of cancer. My perspective has improved. About everything.  Remarkable.

And I still have work to do. Lots of it.   I will commit to be a better person, in my thoughts and in my actions, and by my words.   But, without doubt, these severed communications with some of my family, are proving me, at this juncture, a failure.  Those wounds refuse to heal.

I think we all need peace to be truly content with the lives we live.  In my carousel of life, that brass ring is still unattainable.  I will try to stretch a little further.  And just maybe.....

Today, you have been witness to my open heart surgery.

Other news

Kathy's cousin Dianne (Dynee), remains in palliative care in an Ottawa hospital.  She is comatose and her family keeps vigil.  Our love is with her and her family.  And everyone who knows her.

                                          Kath, Dynee and Aunt Helen, at Kristin's wedding.

My bride had been complaining about sharp pains in her right ear, as her work week ended.  She was reluctant to do anything about it.  On Saturday morning, she was wracked with pain, and I told her we were going to the emergency center at our local hospital.  She would have nothing to do with that, but stubbornly conceded to go to an urgent care facility, where she was quickly diagnosed with a serious inner ear infection.  She was prescribed an antibiotic and pain pills.

We had been invited to dinner by a neighbor and she was anxious to attend.  Kathy's condition worsened throughout the day, and despite the drugs, we were unable to attend.  She was showered and dressed, and in tears.  It was a Saturday night write-off.

She, and her cousin, share, exactly, the same auto-immune disease.  Dynee had been feeling unwell, and had failed to seek help, until it apparently became too late to save her.  Auto-immunity allows any disease to gain unrestricted traction inside your body.   Even such unassuming things, as a simple cold, lasts for weeks, and is difficult to overcome.  Early action is a necessity, in order to regain a healthy condition.  As a result, we must be much more vigilant in issues of Kath's health, today and forever.  Even if she has to miss a party now and then.  God help me, if I thought she needed to miss her evening cocktail.  That would be the limit.

I am thankful for today and have great hope for tomorrow, and the days yet to come.

Thank you, the best friends anyone could have, as always, for giving me a moment of your time.

jrobinmullen@gmail.com