For a New Beginning.....again

All,


 I had all good intentions to write from my newest chemotherapy chair yesterday, but I didn't get a chair!  They put me in a single room in a bed--a sign that didn't feel very good, but I went with it.  Lying down or even sitting up, I couldn't really see down into the street to report on the state of the new cancer center as I have in the past.  Just know that the steam engine has done her work and has packed it in....too bad; she was fun to watch.  Anyway, I was given all sorts of pre-meds to help me not react to the new liposomal delivery system of this old drug (no longer reported to give you hair loss or nausea and vomiting--this is very good).  The only problem is that I slept through the whole 3 hour ordeal and came home to sleep most of the day and into the night.  I don't think I really need the IV benadryl next time, but sleep is not a bad thing....I just didn't get to use the quiet time up on the 6th floor to read and write while my wonderful nurse brings me chicken soup every few hours.  Oh dear, I sound as if I almost enjoy it, and that isn't quite right. I do appreciate the quiet and the care, however. 

I'm really skipping over what happened initially, and I need to tell it.  Perhaps a year and a half ago when I had come back to the infusion center in the cancer center to begin my last chemotherapy after not having chemotherapy since 1997, I glanced into the first room on my right.  I have since learned that this is an unhealthy behavior and I try not to look into other rooms too much.  But I did it then, and I recognized the tall man sitting by the bed of an Ill-appearing woman.   I had met this woman when our kids were in summer camp together as she had no hair at the time either (1997, I guess).  We shared very similar cancer stories and we stayed in touch a little over the years.  I had no idea she was ill again until I saw them there.  The husband came to greet me and told me she was dying.  I came in and said hello and held her hand as she told me what was going on.  I said something hopefully comforting and kissed her goodbye.  She never came back to the hospital as she died a few days later.  Ok, I was a bit overcome by that visit, especially with starting chemotherapy again and having just seen its potential ending point.  Guess what room they put me in yesterday? That one.  I walked in and burst into tears.  How silly but how real the emotion and fear felt.  Then I was handed a cup of soup, and the nurse took one look at me and remembered the incident (i guess it was memorable as I am always trying to be a good patient, not make waves etc.  As i ran down the hall weeping in despair, someone might have noticed.....)!  We didn't move rooms, but I felt much better after we talked a little.  Continuity of care is a wonderful thing.  And, I feel fine this morning.  How about a poem or four.  Most of these came my way over the internet.  I love John O'Donohue for his refreshing view of life, I love the tender care of a woman cutting a man's hair (like a chemo nurse handing a patient a cup of soup), and I love the joy of deep noticing of Picasso paintings.....see what you think

For a New Beginning

In out-of-the-way places of the heart,
Where your thoughts never think to wander,
This beginning has been quietly forming,
Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

For a long time it has watched your desire,
Feeling the emptiness growing inside you,
Noticing how you willed yourself on,
Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.

It watched you play with the seduction of safety
And the gray promises that sameness whispered,
Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent,
Wondered would you always live like this.

Then the delight, when your courage kindled,
And out you stepped onto new ground,
Your eyes young again with energy and dream,
A path of plenitude opening before you.

Though your destination is not yet clear
You can trust the promise of this opening;
Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning
That is at one with your life's desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure;
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm,
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

~ John O'Donohue ~

Picasso (Tim Nolan)

How can we believe he did it—
every day—for all those years?

We remember how the musicians
gathered for him—and the prostitutes

arranged themselves the way he wanted—
and even the helmeted monkeys

with their little toy car cerebella—
posed—and the fish on the plate—

remained after he ate the fish—
Bones—What do we do with this

life?—except announce: Joy.
Joy. Joy—from the lead—

to the oil—to the stretch of bright
canvas—stretched—to the end of it all.

For My Wife Cutting My Hair (Bruce Guernsey)

You move around me expertly like the good, round
Italian barber I went to in Florence,
years before we met, his scissors
a razor he sharpened on a belt.

But at first when you were learning, I feared
for my neck, saw my ears like sliced fruit
on the newspapered floor. Taking us back in time,
you cleverly clipped my head in a flat-top.

The years in between were styles no one had ever seen,
or should see again: when the wind rose
half my hair floated off in feathers,
the other half bristling, brief as a brush.

In the chair, almost asleep, I hear the bright
scissors dancing. Hear you hum, full-breasted as Aida,
carefully trimming the white from my temples,
so no one, not even I, will know.

Perhaps...

Perhaps these thoughts of ours
will never find an audience
Perhaps the mistaken road
will end in a mistake
Perhaps the lamps we light one at a time
will be blown out, one at a time
Perhaps the candles of our lives will gutter out
without lighting a fire to warm us.

Perhaps when all the tears have been shed
the earth will be more fertile
Perhaps when we sing praises to the sun
the sun will praise us in return
Perhaps these heavy burdens
will strengthen our philosophy
Perhaps when we weep for those in misery
we must be silent about miseries of our own

Perhaps
Because of our irresistible sense of mission
We have no choice

~ Shu Ting ~