No, I have no idea what it means either. But more of that later.
Sorry I've been away for ages; it's been a very challenging couple of weeks, with the side effects of chemotherapy knocking me for 6 as they failed to lift as they normally have done - the Carousel has turned slowly this time.
But these physical and emotional effects, while being tough to cope with, aren't as interesting as the psychological ones. These I also know well, all be it intermittently since they have tended to coincide with the short(er) low time; but unlike the physical and emotional stuff, I do not pretend to understand them!
2 in 1
How many "me"s are there? Two! At times, usually during that never-never time between sleep and wakefulness (at any time of the night!) "we" have to agree before "we" can do something/anything. And, more strangely, I also feel I have two of everything I really have only one of, and these also have to "agree" before I can do anything. Most bizarre is the disorientation as "2 become 1", a little like those weird "Top of the Pops" or Dr Who special effects from the 70's / 80's!
3 of 11
This is really weird, and I have no idea what it means. But through the night, my chemo-driven dreams will crave "3 of 11", or "we need 3 of the 11" or "which 3 of the 11 is it?". I have no idea what it's 3 of, nor why 3 and 11 are "it".
If anyone has an idea, tell me!
It's been suggested they are chakras (Western tradition says there are 7 but eastern beliefs allow for many interpretations)... Hum... Or that they are "astral energies"(of which, I am told there are 10...), with the first 3 being "awake", "asleep", and "out-of-body"... OK... Or that 11 is the number of people in a team...
Or is it just a random effect of the chemo?
(Diana thinks it's a partial memory of my "attraction" all those years ago to Star Trek's 7 of 9... but that's another story!)
Wednesday, 25 February 2015
Tuesday, 17 February 2015
Why do I blog?
We've just had a great weekend with all the family here, celebrating two birthdays (32 and 5). And, during a lovely evening's conversation, talk turned to my blog.
It seems the children all get a lot from it, and in particular (to my relief) all appreciated my recent thoughts on time. But this triggered the question "why do I do it?"
When I started, this time last year, the answer was simple - keeping friends and family in touch with my progress,
as a means of saving you all "enquiring" as to how I am/was during those early chaotic days. But since then it seems to have evolved into something more.
I have discovered it's turned out to be enormously therapeutic to write; something more than just a diary, its also a powerful tool for me to keep positive, marshalling my thoughts forwards and focusing on "life".
And something else struck me - might I be its most frequent reader? It seems to have the same value "on reflection" as it does "in the moment", specifically during these "low" steroid-less days immediately after treatment it reminds me they don't last forever; they do pass and life eventually returns to something like normal for a week or so. Just like myfitnesspal is a help in maintaining a good diet, so blogspot has become a powerful means of me helping me reflect on the good things in life, whatever it may throw at us.
I admit this reason was not intended or anticipated, but I've always been a great believer in the law of unforeseen consequences, although usually anticipating them to be "unhelpful". Such a pleasant surprise to find this one to be such a positive consequence!
Finally, and tightly tied into this unexpected benefit, please keep those comments coming, however you get them to me. Every one adds to the deep sense of support I get from this blog, whoever writes the words!
It seems the children all get a lot from it, and in particular (to my relief) all appreciated my recent thoughts on time. But this triggered the question "why do I do it?"
When I started, this time last year, the answer was simple - keeping friends and family in touch with my progress,
as a means of saving you all "enquiring" as to how I am/was during those early chaotic days. But since then it seems to have evolved into something more.
I have discovered it's turned out to be enormously therapeutic to write; something more than just a diary, its also a powerful tool for me to keep positive, marshalling my thoughts forwards and focusing on "life".
And something else struck me - might I be its most frequent reader? It seems to have the same value "on reflection" as it does "in the moment", specifically during these "low" steroid-less days immediately after treatment it reminds me they don't last forever; they do pass and life eventually returns to something like normal for a week or so. Just like myfitnesspal is a help in maintaining a good diet, so blogspot has become a powerful means of me helping me reflect on the good things in life, whatever it may throw at us.
I admit this reason was not intended or anticipated, but I've always been a great believer in the law of unforeseen consequences, although usually anticipating them to be "unhelpful". Such a pleasant surprise to find this one to be such a positive consequence!
Finally, and tightly tied into this unexpected benefit, please keep those comments coming, however you get them to me. Every one adds to the deep sense of support I get from this blog, whoever writes the words!
Friday, 13 February 2015
A postscript to time
(I was going to name this post "the last word on time" but that seemed somewhat final.)
Thank you all who responded so positively to my thoughts, I have to admit the concluding sentences were not in mind when I started it! But they work for me, as well as they seem to have for you.
It was my brother who made a very different but as insightful comment; he recalled a post from earlier last year, in which I reflected on the positivity (for me at least) of "counting up" (or not counting at all!).
And he perceptively noticed that my reflections on "powers of 10" had a hint of counting down. He was right, but I have to admit it was not intended.. And as he agrees, this doesn't fundamentally alter the central conclusion of living "now".
Is there a way of living now? "making a difference" was/is my mantra. But Diana was inspired by Roman Kent, who spoke at the recent Auschwitz anniversary ceremony; where he called for an 11th commandment. “You should never be a bystander”. A great philosophy that definitely makes a difference with a deep underlying message.
Thank you all who responded so positively to my thoughts, I have to admit the concluding sentences were not in mind when I started it! But they work for me, as well as they seem to have for you.
It was my brother who made a very different but as insightful comment; he recalled a post from earlier last year, in which I reflected on the positivity (for me at least) of "counting up" (or not counting at all!).
And he perceptively noticed that my reflections on "powers of 10" had a hint of counting down. He was right, but I have to admit it was not intended.. And as he agrees, this doesn't fundamentally alter the central conclusion of living "now".
Is there a way of living now? "making a difference" was/is my mantra. But Diana was inspired by Roman Kent, who spoke at the recent Auschwitz anniversary ceremony; where he called for an 11th commandment. “You should never be a bystander”. A great philosophy that definitely makes a difference with a deep underlying message.
No news
On the 18th April 1930, the BBC decided there was nothing newsworthy worth reporting, so broadcast some piano music instead.
Sort of feels that way today, particularly since I'm listening to Chopin's 24 piano preludes, at the end of a very quiet week.
But maybe there is a little bit of news...
Down: Have had some challenges with tummy aches and pains that have been tough going from time to time, reducing my energy levels and opening up my emotional side; denying me that end-of-cycle fillip. Probably the muscles still healing from last year? I guess the Carousel ran a bit slow this time (seems a good metaphor given my last posting). A quiet time, flowing with the chemo, not fighting it.
Up: was in clinic for chemotherapy yesterday - and am pleased to say my vital signs were 'normal', including white and red cell count (red deficiency could have explained the tiredness, but I'm pleased it was not), and my liver function.
Up: out and about a bit more, including my first bit of physical work in months, helping Diana move a cubic meter of logs! So, combined with today's dose of steroids, the sun's come out and my Carousel horse is back up to speed.
And while I was in therapy, Diana popped out and bought me a new engine for my train set! And a lovely surprise it will be for our grandson!!
Steady as she goes...
Sort of feels that way today, particularly since I'm listening to Chopin's 24 piano preludes, at the end of a very quiet week.
But maybe there is a little bit of news...
Down: Have had some challenges with tummy aches and pains that have been tough going from time to time, reducing my energy levels and opening up my emotional side; denying me that end-of-cycle fillip. Probably the muscles still healing from last year? I guess the Carousel ran a bit slow this time (seems a good metaphor given my last posting). A quiet time, flowing with the chemo, not fighting it.
Up: was in clinic for chemotherapy yesterday - and am pleased to say my vital signs were 'normal', including white and red cell count (red deficiency could have explained the tiredness, but I'm pleased it was not), and my liver function.
Up: out and about a bit more, including my first bit of physical work in months, helping Diana move a cubic meter of logs! So, combined with today's dose of steroids, the sun's come out and my Carousel horse is back up to speed.
And while I was in therapy, Diana popped out and bought me a new engine for my train set! And a lovely surprise it will be for our grandson!!
Steady as she goes...
Thursday, 5 February 2015
Time is of the essence
(This post was triggered by two events. First, one of you rightly observed that my blog was often quite factual, and that they were missing "my hilltop", i.e. insights into "my world".
This coincided with me reflecting on how the last post-but-one was before the events of the weekend, while the one I have just published was after... Hum... before... and after...)
Once, before all this happened, my sense of time was very comfortable. I don't mean "what time is it?" I mean "what is time, and how do I relate to it?"
The answer? Maybe the same as yours: with some degree of indifference. When I did occasionally think consciously about it, it was without regret or fear. Put simply - Time past: I can honesty say "none wasted". Time present: "using it well". Time future: "there's enough".
Time past: when I think about what I have done these last 56 years, it is with a real, clear sense of accomplishment, whether it be in my professional or personal lives; "making a difference" as Diana would put it. As for "time present", living here in this wonderful house in a truly vibrant village community, contributing my few talents was more rewarding than I could ever have imagined.
Time future? Oh boy.
Then, it was a vague sense of "there's enough" (did you know there are roughly 10,000 nights in 30 years? That's the gap between me and Dad! Plenty of time yet!).
But now...
It's complicated. 10,000 nights is a distant impossible dream, even 100 sometimes feels beyond me. Let's split the (logarithmic!) difference and go for 1,000! Impossible? Not probable but a valid target none-the-less, even if it is so clearly finite. And that fact is sometimes so tough to grasp, particularly when the treatment lays me low and another day goes by.
But whatever the number is, and it's hard not to have it in mind most of the time, the only way of "being" I know is to continue trying to make that difference, whatever the chemo and lesions throw at me and whatever that difference may be.
Put another way: while it's so tough to do, I still go back to the beginning of this blog 12 months ago - "normal is good". Or as Captain Mainwaring would have said: "carry on!" Here's to all our futures!
This coincided with me reflecting on how the last post-but-one was before the events of the weekend, while the one I have just published was after... Hum... before... and after...)
Once, before all this happened, my sense of time was very comfortable. I don't mean "what time is it?" I mean "what is time, and how do I relate to it?"
The answer? Maybe the same as yours: with some degree of indifference. When I did occasionally think consciously about it, it was without regret or fear. Put simply - Time past: I can honesty say "none wasted". Time present: "using it well". Time future: "there's enough".
Time past: when I think about what I have done these last 56 years, it is with a real, clear sense of accomplishment, whether it be in my professional or personal lives; "making a difference" as Diana would put it. As for "time present", living here in this wonderful house in a truly vibrant village community, contributing my few talents was more rewarding than I could ever have imagined.
Time future? Oh boy.
Then, it was a vague sense of "there's enough" (did you know there are roughly 10,000 nights in 30 years? That's the gap between me and Dad! Plenty of time yet!).
But now...
It's complicated. 10,000 nights is a distant impossible dream, even 100 sometimes feels beyond me. Let's split the (logarithmic!) difference and go for 1,000! Impossible? Not probable but a valid target none-the-less, even if it is so clearly finite. And that fact is sometimes so tough to grasp, particularly when the treatment lays me low and another day goes by.
But whatever the number is, and it's hard not to have it in mind most of the time, the only way of "being" I know is to continue trying to make that difference, whatever the chemo and lesions throw at me and whatever that difference may be.
Put another way: while it's so tough to do, I still go back to the beginning of this blog 12 months ago - "normal is good". Or as Captain Mainwaring would have said: "carry on!" Here's to all our futures!
A wonderful few days
A good full-of-life few days!
(this was written a couple of days ago, but I suffered writers block on the next post - pretend it's last Monday!)
My last therapy was on Wednesday last week because Thursday we were of for a night away in a lovely English country house hotel, having dinner with the couple who introduced us 36 years ago. And what a great evening! Good food, company, conversation - and accommodation(*)!
Then on Saturday, a real privilege - CST at home! So a real chance to reap the the benefits of the therapy, enjoying an hour's recovery afterwards.
And in amongst these, the pleasure of doing ordinary things such as work(!) and model making.
All of which set me thinking...
But first, that (*) from earlier: as it happened, the delay in chemo meant we were away while I was on steroids, which we saw as a good thing - I would be more able to cope with the effects of the trip. And indeed I did feel good the whole time we were away... except I wasn't taking steroids!! Instead I was mistakenly taking something else, far less influential on my body - the power of the placebo! OK, I did wain rather, but once we spotted the mistake, I then had the pleasure of an extended period of support.
So to those thoughts - about time.
(this was written a couple of days ago, but I suffered writers block on the next post - pretend it's last Monday!)
My last therapy was on Wednesday last week because Thursday we were of for a night away in a lovely English country house hotel, having dinner with the couple who introduced us 36 years ago. And what a great evening! Good food, company, conversation - and accommodation(*)!
Then on Saturday, a real privilege - CST at home! So a real chance to reap the the benefits of the therapy, enjoying an hour's recovery afterwards.
And in amongst these, the pleasure of doing ordinary things such as work(!) and model making.
All of which set me thinking...
But first, that (*) from earlier: as it happened, the delay in chemo meant we were away while I was on steroids, which we saw as a good thing - I would be more able to cope with the effects of the trip. And indeed I did feel good the whole time we were away... except I wasn't taking steroids!! Instead I was mistakenly taking something else, far less influential on my body - the power of the placebo! OK, I did wain rather, but once we spotted the mistake, I then had the pleasure of an extended period of support.
So to those thoughts - about time.
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