The C Word – A New Battle Day 190 - Navigating the Dash

Since we are becoming older, the “opportunity” to attend funerals or memorials becomes more frequent.  Many of these refer to the dash on one tombstone or in ones obituary.  Before and after the dash is ones’ beginning date and ones’ expiration date.  What happens in between is called “LIFE”. 

11/20/1920 - 9/5/2006, 6/28/1924 – 7/29/2012, 11/4/1957 – 1/28/2000…. These are some of the significant dashes that have been part of my life. 

This month we celebrated a couple of birthdays this past week – 1/21/201x, 1/23/200x.  Life still young and to be lived.  Precious little girls.  So much for them to look forward to. A lot more “dash” yet to be seen.

In the past few months we’ve seen a few people whose dash has expired.  Some people’s dash comes quite unexpectedly as these folk did.  It caught people by surprise. 

This week marks seventeen years since my Mike died.  It seems incredulous that it has been that long.  His dash lasted just 42 years.  For Sara, it was half her life-time ago!  For Becke, longer than that.  There are still times I shed a tear or two when I think about the moments we’ve celebrated without him.  It was a dash that was well lived.

In reality, we all know that our dash will expire one day.  We do not know when, not exactly.  As the expiration date comes closer, sometimes we have an inkling, but we never truly know when our time is done.  Only our Father knows for sure. 

In my life there are now two people whose expiration date is on the horizon.  At least that’s what we think based on medical science. 

George’s mom fell ill again this week.  She didn’t fall this time, but developed pneumonia.  This has triggered her congestive heart failure to ramp up.  Which in turn has become a prognosis where she likely has less than three months to live (though, given her history she could defy but probably not much longer than that).  We have to prepare ourselves for what’s to come.  While in the long run it is for the best  -   I will still miss her.  Mom has no clue about what is going on with her and perhaps that is a good thing.  She lives her life in a bubble called Alzheimer’s.  It protects her from the knowledge that her heart is failing.  In her mind she is “just fine”.  So she lives in oblivion and is happy at the simplest things that take place in her life… quite frankly, she is ecstatic when we come to visit.  She doesn’t remember that we were just there hours or a day before so each time is brand new to her.  In those moments she is happy and content and just gushes “love”.  She’s not worried about what’s to come.  I’m glad for that. She’s approaching the end of her dash.  10/10/1925 - ?/?/2017? 

On the other hand is George.  His date is nowhere near an imminent end stamp.  Yet he knows it is there.  He is fearful of what will happen.  We are ever grateful for those moments when he feels somewhat normal.  Yet he lives with constant reminders that things are not.  He worries about what those little cancer buggers are doing inside his body.  He also worries about what will happen after his dash has stopped. 

There are some who know their dash is looming just beyond the horizon so they take the opportunity to knock out things that have been on their bucket list.  Depending on the circumstances, some people just stop living the dash, stop existing in their life, waiting for the end. 

Sometimes our dash comes unexpectedly while other times we know it is coming but we’re not exactly sure when.  Most of us live life believing that our dash will not come for years or decades.  I am not sure which one is “best”.  Do I want to know “when” – or not.  In some situations when we “know” the end is coming we have a chance to prepare, to get things in place, to get the chance to say all the things we want to say – and the opportunity to say goodbye to our loved one.  Yet if we live our life right we will be doing things in this moment, during our dash, so if death comes unexpectedly we don’t live with regrets. 

My advice - - live your dash in grace.  Be nice to others.  If you work, do it well.  Love your family, your friends and, if you have the opportunity, your neighbors. Tell your loved ones that you love them, and show them as well. Take advantage of the precious moments you have in this thing called “LIFE”.  Your footprint – your “dash” – leaves an impact.  Make it a positive one.  Do not take things for granted.  Be the best you can be in the here and now.  Tomorrow is not a guarantee. Only this moment is guaranteed, this time between the creation date and the expiration date.  Make the most of it!

The C Word – A New Battle Day 181 - Comparing Notes

This past Saturday I pulled together a group of PMP survivors and caregivers to “ring in the new year”.  I tried to gauge the time based on the small group that gathered in July.  That one had 7 people in attendance, this one was more than double that.  While three hours seems like a long time, some of us lasted four hours.  We were so grateful that the restaurant did not seem to mind us hanging out that long.  As people left to go elsewhere we gave up the unused tables to they could get other customers in there.

Of particular interest is the fact that not one of the PMP survivors in this group has ever gotten a NED (No Evidence of Disease) diagnosis.  Of the 8, 50% were male.  All of the male members had one or more surgeries with the final diagnosis that HIPEC could not be done due to the extent of the disease.  So the guys really were able to compare notes and talk about their current maladies. 

Of the four women, a couple of them are expecting a second surgery sometime in their future. 

ALL of these people are so nice.  We had a good time being together and spending at least a part of the time talking about their lives beyond the disease which has taken over them. 

Since this disease is so rare, it is hard to have conversations and feel a connection to other cancers.  The body parts that are removed are far different from other cancers.  As caregivers it is also difficult to relate to other caregivers.  For the most part, our spouses “look healthy” and, aside from twinges and fears of small bowel obstructions, if you didn’t know there was anything wrong with them you wouldn’t suspect anything.  For now…. At least for now.  Not one person there wasn’t aware of the fact that things could change for them at any point. 

That’s the thing with this cancer.  It lurks.  It lies in wait.  It’s unspoken yet always there.  It changes your life.  I know all cancers do, but advances in some cancers means cures or good prognosis. 

But events such as the one we had on Saturday makes us feel part of a community.  One where we can appreciate one another, support one another and feel that we are making a difference helping each other out.  

The C Word – A New Battle Day 172 - Changes on the Horizon

I enjoyed very much having time off during the holidays.  I was busy yet not so busy that I couldn’t enjoy the festivities.  For the first time in years I did not have a mother-in-law to care for on actual holidays (a source of constant interruptions to the day).  And for the first time in 3 years George was doing well enough to participate and enjoy the day as well.  I wanted to capture those moments as I have the sense that this is the last time we will be able to enjoy the holidays this way.  I can feel change on the horizon. 

We enjoyed time with the granddaughters for several days, taking them to the movies, to a museum, to Dairy Queen and Baskin-Robbins for treats, even ice skating for a short bit with “cousins”. We thoroughly enjoyed a nice dinner at Pino’s Trattoria for New Years’ Eve with Keith and Bonnie and pretty much agreed that the chosen movie was not all that great.  But getting out on a double-date was wonderful as the past few years we have had to adjust either because of George or his mom. 

As I headed back to work on January 3rd, I couldn’t help but feel that I was leaving my “child” at home.  Now, I know George is not my child but as I drove towards work I had the same feeling I had when I left my child at daycare or at school for the first time.   I felt guilty leaving him home by himself as I know he fares better with me being nearby.  I reflected on where life has been and where it is going. 

Four years ago this month is when I walked through the doors of the Blind Center.  My reasons for volunteering at that time had everything to do with where I was at that point in my life.  Having lost my mom months earlier I had lost a sense of purpose.  George was working full time and I had too much time on my hands.  Within months things morphed and I found myself working there. 

Now, my husband is home alone while I leave for work.  And I can’t help but feel that I am supposed to be there with him.  And I also know that there are things going on in the workplace that will bring about change.  While I don’t know where that will go, I feel that God is already putting things in place so that I can make changes as well.  “When God closes a door, he opens another.”  I feel the nudge, the tug, the pull.  I love my job.  But I am getting signals and signs that change is coming. Decisions that I must make.  And I am okay with that.  Changes on the horizon. 

At home I feel we must do some renovating and turn mom’s apartment back into bedrooms so George and I can move downstairs.  Our bed won’t fit in the space that was mom’s bedroom which means we must take apart the cabinets and make the “living room” back into the master bedroom.  George is fighting me on this a little bit, but I feel that the time will come when going up the stairs will not be as feasible as they currently are.  And I would rather convert the room while I have the time and energy rather than wait until it is urgent.  Change is on the horizon.

While I would pray for a laid-back, easy going 2016, the truth is that is not likely to be the case.  2017 is likely to be another topsy-turvy roller coaster year.  I feel so fortunate that we made it through one entire holiday season with nothing catastrophic (other than the fact the George’s mom fell twice and was in rehab for the season – but the fact that I don’t have to worry about her since she is in facilities has been wonderfully freeing for me).  My gut instincts tell me that change is on the horizon – and I need to prepare myself at home and at work for these changes. 

"For A Moment"

Peace be still you are with me
In this hope I abide
Jesus be my sustainer
Strengthen me in this trial

And I know, it's only for a moment
And everything is working for your glory
But I need, your perfect love to hold me
Safe within your promise
Til the storm has passed

When this burden is lifted
I'll give thanks to your name
But until it is finished
I'll give praise just the same

For we have this hope
As an anchor for our soul
You are with us
We will never be alone

************* 

I Surrender All

Israel Houghton

All to Jesus I surrender
All to Him I freely give
I will ever love and trust Him
In His presence daily live

All to Jesus I surrender
Humbly at His feet I bow
Worldly pleasures all forsaken
Take me Jesus take me now

I surrender all
I surrender all
All to Thee my blessed Saviour
I surrender all

All to Jesus I surrender
Make me Saviour wholly Thine
Let me feel the Holy Spirit
Truly know that Thou art mine

All to Jesus I surrender
Lord I give myself to Thee
Fill me with Thy love and power
Let Thy blessings fall on me

All to Jesus I surrender
Now I feel the sacred flame
Oh the joy of full salvation
Glory glory to His name

I surrender the future to Him who knows all things.  I pray and know that he is already working in my life – in George’s life – in our family.