Homecoming Queen

I am sure you’ve heard this from me before but at times I’d like to write something just “awesome” and “epic” – two words that are quickly being overused in the bloggsphere – but I’ve got nothing really in my brain today. Still, I figure I can fill 500 words with something. So here I go:

Since I completed my radiation treatments I am slowly recovering. The hemorrhoids have cleared up and my bowels are getting back to normal. It still get to visit the restroom a lot but it is getting better. On the fatigue front, life is slowly getting back to my normal energy state. This last weekend I was able to attend the men’s group at my church and regular services but had to pass on a potluck lunch. I’ve been forcing myself to be more physically active and managed to get a couple of hours yesterday and today in the workshop.

This coming week I plan to continue my physical recovery by restarting my three times a week walking on the tread mill. Hoping to get up to 30 minutes each session. And something that I can’t put off much longer – I’ve got to spend a few evenings this week on the yearly taxes. Joy.

Not hard to to get words down. Making them inspiring is something different.

I’ve been continuing my reflection on past influences. Last week we learned that Davy Jones of the 60’s band, The Monkees, died. I remember watching that show when I was a kid. At six and seven years old I loved their slapstick and chase routines. I also recalled how much I really liked some of their songs, especially, “Daydream Believer,” “Last Train to Clarksville,” and “I am a Believer.”

I can’t say whether I am just attracted to that kind of music or if listening to those songs at that age gave me a taste for that style of music. Still I remembered enough that I’ve added the songs to my list of intertexts. Sorry but if you want to know more about me you’ll need to download the Monkees and listen to their music.

Perhaps the biggest influence of the song “Daydream Believer” is that it is about dreams and believing in dreams. And it asks a question it doesn’t answer in the refrain:

Cheer up, sleepy Jean, Oh, what can it mean,

To a daydream believer,

And a homecoming queen?

For most of my life I’ve been quite content to ask questions I can’t answer. I love a good question. I love thinking of questions – good questions, deep questions and even whimsical ones. After all wasn’t it Doctor Who who asked, “Why does a mouse when it spins?”

Answers aren’t a strong point for me. I like answers that you can look up in the back of a text book but I don’t really like coming up with answers on my own.

Everybody sing, “Oh, what can it mean” da da da “and a homecoming queen?”

I’ll admit that when I read about Davy Jones dying I looked up the songs on Youtube and listened to them, over and over. Perhaps it is a symptom of my current mental state but I spent about 20 minutes pushing and re-pushing the play button on “Day Dream Believer.” Now I am thinking of seeing if they have them on iTunes.

Well, maybe not. Why replay it so much?

Don’t have a good answer but in part it was, comforting. It brought back fond memories of Saturday mornings in front of the TV laughing and singing along (yes I did sing along). It bought back memories of an innocent time – a time when cancer didn’t exist and the biggest fear was that no one wanted to play.

And there is the music – simply lyrics, easy melody and tune I could remember.

Perhaps “simple” sums it up best or more precisely, the need for simplicity. My world lately has been very complicated – work, health, taxes all add a layer of complexity that I’d rather not have. To remember simplicity and innocence – the times when play and running in the sun where the only concerns of my life.

And perhaps there is a sense of loss too – another memory from childhood has an ending date. Davy Jones will no longer tour and sing. And I am again reminded of my mortality.

So, again the button is pressed and the world fades back to a sunny spring afternoon in ’67 with me and my friends running across the lawn, yelling and just being children.

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Where to From Here?

Yesterday Heather and I went to Santa Cruz and walked on the cliff overlooking the sea.  It was a sunny day with big billowy clouds passing slowly over head.  It reminded me of those lazy spring days as a child when my friends and I would look at the clouds and image what they were.  There was a mouse, a cat, cotton balls, and sometimes cheese.

Looking down at the shore I could see the waves crashing. They were slowly breaking the rocks of the cliff, and millimeter by millimeter reclaiming the land.  There is power in the sea and nothing we humans can do will stop it.  Look closely and you’ll see where a parking lot use to be and see it’s ruins on the sand.  How many more years before no trace of it is left?

Look closely and you’ll see where the waves are slowly undercutting the sandstone cliff.  How long would I have to stand here watching before the cliff collapses and the fence it holds up falls into the sea.  How many more times will that drama be repeated before the sidewalk I am on is washed into the Pacific? 20 years?  50?  How long until the mighty Pacific claims all of Santa Cruz as its own.

It is a strange mental habit of mine – looking at the world not only as it is, but also as it was and as it may be.  My world has four dimensions.  It always has had.  I am not sure where I got it from but I know that the book, “Earth Abides” by George R. Stewart is a large part of it.  It was first published in 1949 and I first read it when I as 14.

“Earth Abides” was the first ‘grown up’ book I ever read.  I selected it myself and paid for it out of my own money – money I had earned doing yard work for a neighbor.  As I recall I think the book cost me $1.25 – nearly two hours work (during the summer months I’d often earn as much as eight dollars in a day).

One day as a high school freshman I decided I had outgrown children’s books and books I could get at the school library and with money fresh in my pocket, money I had earned all on my own, money that I alone had the right to decide how to spend, I set off for the drug store on my bicycle to find a book I could own.  I’m reasonably sure that I didn’t even tell my parents that I was going –  in ’74 kids could do that with little fear.

The store had a whole isle dedicated to paper back books.  I decided I wanted a science fiction book.  I carefully looked a the selection, space ships, alternate worlds, gadgits of a far distant future and then one caught my eye.  On the cover was a large moon over the ruin of a city and the silhouette of a man.  The title was, of course, “Earth Abides.”

I read the back cover.  Then the first page.  Then a page at random.  I can’t explain why but I knew it was, “The book” I was looking for.

I read that book everywhere – before class, after class, during class and at home.  I’ve read it a number of times since and have bought it a few times as I lose copies of it when I move, or think I’ve moved beyond it.

The story is an post-apocalyptic science fiction story.  The main character is Isherwood Williams.  Ish, as he is known, is a young graduate student studying geology and environmental science at UC Berkeley.  While on a solitary field study, Ish is bitten by a rattle snake and then becomes gravely ill.  After recovering he returns to the city only to find that while he was away, almost all of humanity was killed by some disease.

He now has to face the world alone and in time finds others and has a number of adventures.

Great stuff for a 14 year old.  And I still find it a fascinating subject.

Stewart did something else in this book that still influences me today – he had these long descriptions of things and how they would change over weeks, days, years and centuries.  One example is of a culvert that is slowly blocked with leaves and debris.  Over time it is blocked and then the ground erodes and a new stream is formed.

It impressed me at 14 and set me up for a life of thinking like that.

Now you’re likely to think this odd but when I first learned that I had prostate cancer it was the first book I reached for. Honest.

Why? Well, first I had finished the last book I was reading, I was emotionaly upset and wanted some, “comfort” reading.  At the time I needed to read something that I knew would take me away for awhile.  Something that would give me a few hours peace.  Something that would transport me to another world with different problems.

I hadn’t read it in years and at first I was struck how much I had in common with Ish – his tendency to observe rather than act, his shyness, his intellect, and his inability to achieve the more lofty goals in his mind.

While reading, I began to feel a bit like the drowning man who sees his life flash before him (by the way I did nearly drown once and you do think of your life in that moment of panic but that’s another post) – and I began to think about all the books and movies and stories that have influenced my life.  I made a list of the important ones.

I decided to revisit some of those texts and reread them.  Partly as a self examination to see how I’ve shaped my life and partly to bring things full circle before I start in a new direction.  I’ve also decided to make it part of my Lent activities.

One of the things believers are called to do during Lent is self reflection, so I am going to use these texts of my past as a mirror to look into who I am and how I got to here.  From there a new course can be charted and something new undertaken.

In literary criticism looking at the texts that influence or are referred to by a source text to find meaning or understand is called an intertexual reading.  So using the intertexual method I intend to look a little deeper into me to understand me better. I am the text. The books I’ve read are the influencing texts.

Lent started last Wednesday but my body wasn’t up to the task and I did very little.  It still isn’t fully well but now that I’ve ended treatments it is getting better and as my body heals it is time to heal my mind and my soul.  I can’t say for sure that this revisiting some of my past is the right way but it feels right and from time to time I hear the voice that says, “you can’t tell where you’re going until you know where you have been.”

I invite you to follow along.  At the top of my blog is a tab labeled “Intertexual Andrew.” This page has the list of life influences I mentioned above.  It is a bit rough and not complete.  As the season of Lent progresses I’ll flesh out the page with more detailed notes and information.  I might add items or remove items.  The list will change over time.

I invite you to take some time, recall your past and remember what has influenced your thoughts and dreams and helped to shape your life.

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Is it Over?

This won’t be an inspiring post.  I’m am not in an inspiring place today.  I should be celebrating.  It should be party time here.  But I can’t muster the strength for that today.  Maybe another time.

I should be celebrating because tomorrow I’ll finish the last of my radiation treatments and start the process of healing my body from that trauma. Many of you are likely thinking something like, “Great you’re done.  Aren’t you glad this is over?”

I should be and at some level I am.  My body, mind and soul are weary from this journey.  I’ve spent most of this weekend moving between places to rest.  Normally I find writing to be a bit energizing but today it is a chore – a chore I do simply to keep my soul from sinking further into depression and despair.

I shouldn’t be depressed as my oncologist told me on Thursday that he is 98% sure that this treatment will kill all the cancer.  That should make me happy and want to dance but my bowels grumble, my hemorrhoids itch, my stomach wants to reject it’s food, all my joints ache and my mind couldn’t even enjoy an old film today.

I shouldn’t be, but I am – afraid.  Afraid that this trip isn’t going to work.  Afraid that the radiation will cause a secondary cancer. Afraid that I’ll have to do this all over again.  Afraid that this the best I’ll feel before I die.

poor me.

What to do?

It’s pizza night here at our house and the Academy Awards are on. I’ve got sketches all over the coffee table for woodworking projects I’d like to do.  We have family staying tonight.
What to do?

Tomorrow I’ll get up at 5:30 for my last trip for treatment.  Heather has promised to drive me and we have plans to go to Santa Cruz to have breakfast at a favorite restaurant and to walk by the sea.  There is a power in the sea – a power that I can barely describe.

The sea has the power to inspire, to heal, to energize the soul.  There is song in the sea.  There is poetry in the sea.  Whenever I go there, I am reminded of John Masefield’s poem, “Sea Fever.”

I MUST go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea’s face, and a gray dawn breaking.

I must down go to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way, where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

I wish I could explain it but there is a comfort in that poem.  I’ve read it a number of times and I have version of it set to music in my sea shanty collection.

What to do?

Tomorrow, treatments end and I must start to heal.

Tomorrow, I start to move on a different path – one that starts at the sea.

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Does Cancer Take a Vacation?

A friend recently sent me a message with an idea for this blog.  She must have been having a bad day at work and was looking forward to some vacation time and said, “… how ready I am for that week off work. And then I thought of you, and realized that even if you had a week off of work, you wouldn’t have a week off of cancer.”

It’s true.  I’ve tried to schedule it but that cancer won’t take a day off.

I’ve also been thinking about a reasonable response to the question of a blog entry on the subject.  Been thinking about it all day, and now as I start on the keyboard, I worry about my writing devolving into a long self pitying whine on how bad my life is now that I’ve got prostate cancer.

My first response to her was to reply with a long note – that bordered on the preachy – suggesting that perhaps there was more there for her to think about.  I believe in the energy of writing. If she’s motivated to write to me then perhaps it was a subject she needed to explore more.

My first reaction to myself was – “Glad I am not worried about that.”

My second reaction to myself was – “Holy crap, I don’t get a day off?!?”

Yes, when I first got diagnosed I worried that I’d never be free from this thing and that it would mark my every hour of every day for the rest of my life.  I had visions of being that annoying guy in the room that has only one subject on his brian.  You know the guy that likes cars and can only talk about cars.

I don’t want to be that guy.  I don’t want to be so obsessed with my condition/disease/cancer/thing that I’m asking all my friends, “Had your PSA test?”  My fear is that I’ll start asking women that question.

I still have great dreams of what I’d like to do and be.  A great maquetrian.  A great writer.  A famous blogger making hundreds of dollars.  What to do?  Do I give up those dreams because my body won’t let me do them? Now there are a hundred other reasons why I might not achieve these things – such as I am over 50 and am running out of time, or that I’ve got another career and am not likely spend the time. Still, whether I can achieve those or not, prostate cancer adds one more big reason why I won’t achieve those dreams.  What to do? Do I use what energy and time I have to do as much of that as I can?

Intellectually simple.  Emotionally a pain in the butt and I’ve not completely mastered it but I am getting better.

These insights and questions are not new to me as I am not completely new to medical problems.  Cancer is simply the latest problem that has impacted my life.  In my early twenties I was diagnosed with high blood pressure and gout.  Both of these conditions have affected my life and at times caused debilitating pain.  For my blood pressure I have to constantly monitor it and take my medications.  There are times when the gout flares up and my leg becomes swollen and so painful that I can’t walk.

In spite of these conditions I still have had a great life and have done a few things to be proud of.    But when I think of vacations I also have to plan for my conditions.  When Heather and I packed our bags for our trip to Hawaii I made sure that blood pressure pills and my gout pills were in my flight bag.

Yet it’s still true – I can’t take a week off from cancer.  Even when my body heals from the current treatments, cancer will always be there as the specter that could pop up at any time – just like my gout that affects me when I don’t want it to.

But for now I do what I have to.  I do the treatments and endure the side effects and gage what my body and mind can do.  I also keep this priority list in my brain of what I’d like to do – be with my wife, create things in my shop, walk in the hills, do projects around my house and be involved in my church.  At any moment in the day I can do the intellectual exercise and do what my body will allow on my list.  Some times I go into the workshop.  Sometimes I do something with my wife.  And sometimes I have to tend to the needs of my body and disease.

Still it’s hard to escape the shadow – even when I am feeling well.  I hear people at my office complain about minor things and it is so tempting to jump in and say, “That’s nothing, let me tell you about my problems.”

Not that guy – that’s not the guy I want to be, so I resist the urge.

But it’s not cancer every minute.  There are moments of respite – minutes and hours when I can get my mind into a different space.  These are my ‘vacations’ from the disease.

I watch a movie, go to a show with my wife, spend a day with the marquetry club or build something in the shop and for a few hours my problems are forgotten while I spend a little time “away from it all.”

One of the parts of prostate cancer is that it is a slow moving cancer and after I finish this round of radiation treatment it will be several months before I know if it worked.  The test will be another PSA test that I’ll get sometime in late June – four months from now.  That test will tell if the cancer is being reduced.  It could be as much as a year before the PSA falls low enough to call it as being in “remission.”  And then I’ll need regular tests and with each one I’ll get to do the “stressing over the results” routine.

But while I wait, my body will recover and my life will return to something like normal.  There will be weeks and maybe months before the doctors disturb my soul again with thoughts of gloom and doom.

Who knows I might even start writing about something other than cancer in this blog.

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