waves on an ocean

"What we call life...consists of single moments, which arise, dissolve, and arise again, like waves on an ocean"-- The Dzogchen Ponlop Rinpoche

As a child I lived near an ocean and I loved body-surfing the waves into shore. The highest were the best; in their current all I could do was "just go" and let myself be churned onto the beach. Those moments held everything: Fear tossed with abandon mixed with awe. And I would go back for another ride and another and another not because I was stupid (well, maybe) but because I was vaguely aware of something else: This land-locked human was dissolving into something I could not understand, but what a relief it was.

Where we are: Rich is experiencing a significant amount of pain in his neck, arm, and two of his fingers. He considers the possibility that "this is the beginning of the end." A big wave, again, and a reminder to let the fear melt away. But I will try to keep the wildness and wonder.

Candace

Training

At my favorite coffee spot a sign occasionally appears above one of the cash registers: "Training: Please Be Patient." I am tempted to borrow and wear it --- and ask for a few extras.

In retrospect, I achieved mastery of every "job" only after I had moved on. I don't think I ever quite managed childhood, or puberty, or college, or my first career, or my second...you get the idea.

Until it was over, and then I realized two things.

First, regret: If I only knew what I now know, how easy it would have been.

Second, acceptance: I know now that I never could have known.

Training is not a place from which we move on, but a place where we learn to be comfortable. And learn patience. For me, and with you, and all of the days.

Candace

revolving door

Yesterday Rich had another MRI to check on progress of the tumor. At the entrance to the imaging center are two doors. One is the simple open-and-walk-through type. But this is not the preferred entrance.

A sign says, "Please Use the Revolving Door."

So we do, again and again. It's not as if we don't have a choice. It's not as if anyone is watching.

Habit? Obedience? Possibility that this may be the better option?

Chordoma is not something that can be walked through. There's the experimental drug, its monitoring, the rhythm of tests, trips to New York, meeting with doctors, awaiting the results. Round and round and round. This is about management, not curing.

Still.

Why not walk through? Each turn is new, even if unwished. We can be stuck in the emotion, but not the moment.

So.

Rich's tumor has not grown. He will continue as a test ferret on the Sutent (ferrets being the only other species known to support chordomas). We will contine our trips to New York, although now Rich gets a "leave" for four weeks. He will continue managing loss of use of his arm, treating the elevated blood pressure and foot blisters that are some of the side effects.

So it still goes, round and through.

Candace