Andrew's View of the Week

3:39 AM

Posted on 04/15/2012 by Andrew Reynolds

Suddenly I am awake. I feel bile rising in my throat and the images of a nightmare start to fade as my eyes focus on the clock – 3:39 am. Sitting up quickly I feel sweat covering my fevered body as I take a ragged breath.

Heather lies beside me, breathing quietly and undisturbed by my sudden movements. In the dark I sense the cat walking up the bed, curious about what has brought me upright. There are no sounds and the only light is the dim candle light from the living room.

Our eternal flame. It burns day and night on the hearth. It is a symbol of hope and love – a constant reminder of God’s love and presence in this house.

What disturbed my mind?

A night terror? What demon touched my soul – what horror tried to intrude on my rest?

I try think about the terror I just woke from but the flickering light says not follow that horror – let it pass and be at peace. My body starts to cool. Spirit the cat puts her paws on my legs and starts to purr. Swallowing and taking a deep breath I scratch the kitty’s ears. Pushing my way back under the covers Heather must sense my presence and she moves closer putting her hand on my arm.

3:44 am was the time my brain recorded before sleep again took me.

Dawn came with clear skies and the promise of a glorious day.

————–

I had to write that. It’s been on my mind all day. 3:39 am. It won’t go away. I wanted to write about other things tonight. My granddaughter is visiting this week and that certainly would make more entertaining reading. I’ve got this really cool cross project in the shop and there is a ton of good theology and symbology to write about. The sermon today at church was on Thomas and I got a bunch of good material for the post I am working on for doubting Thomas. My health is better and I could write about all the things I am doing.

But there are ghosts that just won’t leave.

A reminder of that came in the mail this week from Kaiser.

June 28th, my post radiation follow-up with my urologist. It will be the PSA test that will tell if the treatment has started to work. It will be when I’ll have to face the demon of cancer again and all the doubts and fears will be there – have I chosen right? Did it work? Do I need more treatments? Will my time end sooner than I’d hoped?

During my waking hours I can suppress such thoughts. While the sun shines I can find hope. When the ocean winds blow I can set sail to adventures and life.

But the demons of fear and doubt are patient and chose their time to strike – often when I am weary or when my defenses all drop during sleep. Sleep, sweet rest.

sigh…

Today is a wonderful day. Yesterday was living life full – breakfast with family in San Francisco and time with our granddaughter at the Exploratorium. I love the Exploratorium – if you have a child you have to bring them here. You have to let them explore.

I remember when I was in my early twenties and my father and I had watched the documentary, “The Day After Trinity” about the creation of the first atomic bomb during WWII. Robert Oppenheimer was the major focus of the program and his brother, Frank Oppenheimer told many of the stories. The documentary was shown on the local PBS channel as a pledge fundraiser and at one point they mentioned that Frank Oppenheimer had founded the Exploratorium.

Well that was enough for dad and I – the next weekend we took BART into the city and got a bus out to the Exploratorium. We went through the whole place and had a day that he and I talked about until his death.

Now I have taken two grandchildren to see the place and many of the exhibits that my dad loved are still there. It’s wonderful to see a new generation take interest in the science that my father loved so much. It is a joy and soul lifter to see a child’s enthusiasm as they discover our world and begin to understand the physics that guides the falling of a feather.

As joyful as that is there is still a bit of bitter-sweet as I leave the Palace of Fine Arts. Memories of my father and as we look out from shore to San Francisco bay I see the place where the boat stopped and I committed my father’s ashes to the sea.

As the memories flood in a girl, stands next to me, points and says, “Look at the sail boats.”

In the midst of the new the old remains. In the midst of hope the demons try to bring despair.

Yes, there are sail boats. Look do you see the wind surfers too?

Posted in Prostate Cancer, Spirit, Travel | Tagged Exploratorium, Palace of Fine Arts, Prostate Cancer, spiritual | 3 Comments

Just Doing

Posted on 04/08/2012 by Andrew Reynolds

This last week has been one of those recovery weeks. There are lots of things flying around in my brain but none are really so well thought out that I am able to write them down yet. I’d like to steal a line from the “Big of Alcoholics Anonymous” and say that, “I claim progress, not perfection.”

There is a long story as to why I have that memorized but today isn’t the day to tell it.

Things are better this week and while depression still hangs out on the edges of my life it is not the center of it. I’ve been able to do things and feel better today. It’s hard to say exactly what that radiation does to the body and mind but this week I do feel that I am finally making progress towards recovering more of my spirit.

Something shifted this week and I’ve been sleeping better. Part of it is because the doctor adjusted the dose on the blood pressure medication and had me change the time of day I take it. The other change is that I’ve been able to exercise three mornings this week – 1.5 miles on the treadmill or about 40 minutes. It’s amazing what even that little bit of exercise can do for a person.

Today Heather and I finally were able to do a real hike. We went into the hills and did the 4.6 mile Peter’s Creek Trail loop. I was amazed that my body was able to do the distance and being in the woods with all creation around me was just plain good for the soul. Even if my feet hurt a bit and I’ve got a bit of headache going now. Hiking is one of those, “breathing in” things that just fills my soul and energizes my creativity.

On the creative front I’ve been doing an hour in the shop most nights. There is just something about creating with my hands that is soul satisfying, and this week I’ve been really getting a lot out of that. Mostly I’ve been working on the fretwork cross. The work is somewhat meditative and I’ve done a lot of reflecting on what the cross is and represents. The act of cutting out the fretwork is simple hand-eye coordination and to do it I have to shut off parts of my brain and just let my mind guide my hands as I push the lines into the path of the blade.

At a certain level it is painstaking work. The blade is thin – thinner than a pencil line. The pieces I am cutting out are smaller than my thumbnail. I have to use a magnifier to see the lines and blade to do the cut. And there are at least one hundred pieces to cut out (I don’t know for sure, I counted up to 75 once before I lost count about half way through).

I knew the project would be hard when I started, but I was attracted to that cross the moment I saw the pattern in issue #45 of Scroll Saw Woodworking and Crafts. The pattern was designed by Sue Mey. The picture in the magazine is just beautiful. It is the kind of work I’d like to be able to do. Perhaps it is a bit egotistical of me to think that I can cut the whole thing but something in me says I have to try.

If I don’t try it now, when?

That is the thought process that changes after cancer. I no longer have the luxury to think, “l’ll have time next year.” There is no telling what next year will bring. If the last treatment failed I’ll have do another something. I won’t know for awhile and that is more than a bit frustrating. It’s also among the hardest things to explain to people. A number of people stopped me after church this morning asking some version of, “how are you doing after treatment?” In my heart I knew that some wanted to hear the words, “Oh I am cured now.” But the answer they got was, “I won’t know for sure for at least a year and even then I can’t be sure if or when it will reoccur.”

So I’ve had to change my mindset and the time to try is now. The time to fill that dream is today. Tomorrow isn’t certain so I must live today.

and for the record, I’ve almost finished the Lego castle in the living room. Pictures next time.

Posted in Hiking, Prostate Cancer, Spirit, woodworking | Tagged exercise, Prostate Cancer, scroll saw | 1 Comment

Progress Pictures

Posted on 04/04/2012 by Andrew Reynolds

Just a quick post tonight. I’ve been working on two projects in the workshop. There is nothing like working with your hands to help your mind and spirit.

The fretwork cross project is progressing but it is taking a long time. It won’t be ready by Easter. It’s about 20% done. It does take a bit of concentration to do the cutting so I only work on it in for one to two CDs at a time – that is I listen to a sea shanty CD while I am cutting. So that’s about 45 to 90 minutes per session. I like to think of it as a mediation.

Current Progress on the fret work cross

The tray project is coming along too. The marquetry for the two rose trays is glued down. The next step is sanding and trimming to size. Heather has made me a pattern for the third tray.

Marquetry tray bottom progress. Needs sanding and trimming to final size.

Sorry, no great philosophy today. Just a couple of pictures.

Posted in General, Marquetry, woodworking | Tagged fretwork cross, Marquetry, scroll saw, Shanty, woodworking | Comments Off

Did I Write This?

Posted on 04/01/2012 by Andrew Reynolds

I started this blog a year ago during holy week as a bit of an experiment. Today is Palm Sunday so I thought I’d update you on how the experiment is going. It’s still an experiment without defined goals or end points. I only have one expectation and that is to write.

Today it is possible that the only important thing that comes out of this entry is that I have written something. I don’t feel inspired or energetic. I don’t have any grand insights or anything I want to preach to you about.

There have been more than a few good ideas in my head. Here are some of the better ones:

Palm Sunday and its spiritual significance in my life.
Why I’ve never read Moby Dick and what is stopping me.
A detailed analysis of Asimov’s Foundation Trilogy and how it impacted my life.
The scroll saw as a metaphor for living
Work as a prayer or how my spiritual discipline this week is cutting a fret-work cross on the scroll saw.
The post treatment depression experienced by 80% of all prostate cancer patients.

Did I just write that last sentence?

Let me check… Yup that was me.

There is the problem with cancer – it won’t go away. About ten days ago I wasn’t feeling well and decided to see my doctor. I had a number of little things out of sorts. Nothing big but just lots of little stuff and just having finished radiation treatments I naturally was concerned that I was about to die.

Okay, maybe not die, but I was concerned that I was still having some side effects. Of course the more emotional side of my brain was concerned that something cancer related was happening. My rational brain was trying to reassure me that it was likely just a needed adjustment in medications and perhaps a bit of stress from work.

So off to the doctor I go and it was all of the above – stress, the meds need a little tweak and how are you sleeping?

What? The question caught me off guard as I hadn’t been sleeping well, but just had chalked it up to work stress, worry about cancer, and not having anything good to write for this blog.

– insert very long pause, took 5 minutes for me to write the next line –

My doctor got very concerned about my sleep and then mentioned the word, “depressed.” I recall this very kind but firm little lecture on how depression is a real medical condition that causes both physical and mental symptoms. I wish I could remember it all because it was a very good description filled with good advice. Some of which I’ve actually done – okay I sent her a follow-up email just to make sure I am doing everything she told me. I do recall someplace in her conversation that she said, “80% of all post radiation patients get some form of depression and it really takes six months to fully recover from the radiation.”

So here I sit thinking about it and it’s enough to make you depressed. I mean really – I just finished dealing with cancer and now you want me to deal with being depressed!

The thing that really gets to me is that my doctor is likely right and I am not as close to being recovered as I’d like. If I were to be honest I’ll admit to a certain level of depression, possibly even clinical depression. I’ll admit to not feeling well and I’ll admit that it’s hard to gather much enthusiasm about – well anything.

All I will claim today is that I have written, and that I’ve done my best to follow the doctor’s advice. I’ve been exercising and working in my shop. I’ve finished the taxes and sent it to the CPA (a minor stress point during the last week). My job has become a little less stressful and I am building a Lego castle in the living room.

This week is about readjusting my expectations for recovery. The radiation has stopped but the damage to my body, mind and soul remains.