Category Archives: Fourth Phase

Fourth Phase, Health, Shadow Mountain

My best guess

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Spring and the Trial Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Melissa’s shrimp stir fry, chicken noodle soup. Some sleep. Sweet Shadow. Searching for the pony.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Sadness

 

Kavannah:  Zerizut.  Zest and Zeal. Enthusiasm. Risking a gray, homebound life. Need a push.

Tarot: paused

One brief shining: Shooting for minimal but still daily posts. The view from Shadow Mountain, a bit bleak. Weak. Fatigued. Fever yesterday. So. Tired.

 

Not sure, but here’s my best guess. Two vectors, intimate yet distinctive. The physical: Bout, tough bout, of constipation. The trial introduces prednisone. Several sleeplessness nights. Perhaps a g.i. bug of some sort. Limited nutrition. Persistent dry mouth. Side effects of actinium. (maybe) Fatigue induced by low testosterone, low blood pressure, inadequate nutrition.

The psychic: Hard to bounce back emotionally. The body. Day after day. Unrelenting. Little, or glacial, movement forward. At some point a week or so ago: Is this worth it? No. Let’s go with the downward arc. Let it be.

Eleven years, now into twelve of cancer. Blood tests, insurance hassles. A constant, significant background, sometimes pushing into the foreground. Like now. Jon’s divorce. Kate’s long illness. Her death. My grief. Jon’s death. Much more involvement with Ruth and Gabe. Metastases. Stage 4. Holding myself up, finding purpose. Yes. Also. So many points of pressure.

Flash forward. See physical above. Now layer onto that eleven years of shocks and upset. The two together. Reinforcing. A negative synergy.

I know. Stabilize the physical. Clear up the psychic by reaching back, towards resilience earned and learned. Recharge. Forward.

I need to ride this out. Take care it doesn’t overwhelm me.

Right now? Difficult.

 

Fourth Phase, Health, Shadow Mountain

Finally.

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Spring and the Trial Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Melissa. Ruth. Gabe. Shadow of the morning. CNS. Neck. Gut. Shrimp stirfry. Mac and cheese. Sleep.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Naps

 

Kavannah: Zerizut.  Zest and Zeal. Enthusiasm. Risking a gray, homebound life. Need a push.

Tarot: paused

One brief shining: First. Apologies for my erratic posting. Life over the last month, six weeks has taken a toll. Second, I am getting better sleep. Not enough, but better. I’ll admit the last two weeks have been tough. Yet, I’m still here. Adapting. Moving forward.

 

Ruth came up Thursday around 11:00. We talked. My woes. Her ulna–too long–which will get surgically shortened in early June. She had her last final that morning and all the while we talked, she kept refreshing her phone, hoping more grades had been posted. She’s done well so far.

At 6 PM the now committed Regis University student, Gabe, came up by commuter bus. He and Ruth bought pizza at Ripple for supper. Gabe says he’s not excited yet about Regis. In July, I will be.

This fall all the grandkids will be in college. Wow. A long way from Ruth’s first trip with me to the National Western Stockshow at age 3. From holding a naked 8 day old Gabe on my lap as the mohel made him part of the covenant.

The Great Circle of life.

Melissa came again. Her husband, former paratrooper in the Army’s 101st Airborne, works now as a mechanic on heavy equipment, an installer of car stackers, and the go-to guy if industrial strength belts are involved.

Yesterday she made chicken noodle soup, shrimp stir-fry, and one I don’t remember. She’s quite a cook with a wide repertoire.

Busy day yesterday interspersed with naps. Sorting through my feelings about weakness, my neck, cancer. Trying to find a sweet spot. Eluding me so far.

Fourth Phase, Health

The Cost

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Spring and the Trial Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Bosch. Pill Pockets. Shadow’s care. Snow. More today. Tara. Paul. Mario, the delivery guy. Maddie.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Food

 

Kavannah: Contentment, Histakop. I have enough. Friends. Family. Money. Health. House. Help

Tarot: paused

One brief shining: Maddie drove up from her office in Arvada. She has other patients up here. She offered me oxy. Nope. Pain episodic and brief. Tramadol works well. She ordered trazadone for sleep. Gonna try it. Though. Tried Trazadone a while back and didn’t like it. Can’t recall why.

 

Feeling fuzzy. Not close to my best, yet far better than a week ago. Slept well again last night. The sleep mafia might have applied some vigorish to my sleep debt. Able to concentrate better. Only better. Not well. Frustrating.

Add that to overall weakness and bedtime has become my favorite. When I can lie down, neck and back supported. Yes.

Moving forward I’m hoping that Melissa’s cooking will begin to bulk me up. Had chili and corn bread last night. Very good.

I’m living to get to treatment. Back. Rest. It’s a poor excuse for a life. Given my current cancer reality however, this trial could be a window into a longer life. Worth pursuing.

The cost? Loss of muscle mass, sleep, occasional fogginess, constipation. Not trivial.

I’ve had several stressful medical encounters already this year. Right now I’m too tired to reflect on them. They can be cumulative and I feel that’s what I’m dealing with.

Till tomorrow.

Fourth Phase, Health, Shadow Mountain

Debt

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Spring and the Trial Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Better sleep. Melissa. 101st Airborne. Katie. Visiting Angels. Relief.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Sleep

 

 

Kavannah: Contentment, Histakop. I have enough. Friends. Family. Money. Health. House. Help

Tarot: paused

One brief shining: Last night. Woke up only once. Still knackered, but chipping away at the mountain of sleep debt accrued in the days following trial session #1. I also got back to sleep. Though. When I got up, I kept falling asleep at my keyboard, often leaving long trails of a single character I had to delete.

 

Melissa came yesterday. She lives in Pine, a small community west and south of here. In four hours she did two loads of laundry, cleaned up the kitchen, got my mail, and made four containers: two of chili, shrimp scampi, tater tot casserole.

She made these from ingredients I already had. This gal is serious about her work. Lifts some pressure from me.

Melissa, raised in Oregon, has lived all over the U,S,A, Her husband served in the Army, 101st Airborne Division. She has five dogs including a Great Dane and a French Pug.

Once we get ourselves fully in synch. Wow.

Protection protocol for actinium leaking from my body ends today. It’s a hassle but mostly doable. Should be easier the second time.

My body seems to have equilibrated. Glad. Biggest issue now is exhaustion, sleep debt. Strong.

I see Maddie today. Palliative care nurse. We’ll have a lot to discuss.

After Maddie, Tara and Eleanor come. With lunch.

2:30 to 6:30. Window for delivery and installation of my new dishwasher, Whew.

Gonna stop here. Tired.

Cancer, Fourth Phase, Health, Shadow Mountain

Touch better

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Spring and the Trial Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Mary. Tom. Ruth. Gabe. Shadow. Night sky. Back to the Moon. More sleep. Visiting Angels. Start today.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: New drugs

 

Kavannah: Contentment, Histakop. I have enough. Friends. Family. Money. Health. House. Help

Tarot: paused

One brief shining:  Dry mouth. Makes food taste like cardboard. And, not tasty cardboard. Told my oncologist. He said, “Sweet, wet, and cold foods retain their taste best.” An odd breakdown, but o.k. Wet? Ramen it was. Sweet? Hmmm. Cold? Shrimp cocktail. Watermelon chunks. How to put together?

 

How was last night different from all other nights? I had more sleep than wakefulness. Felt almost normal. Still over tired. A big sleep deficit. Not resolved in one night. Felt so good to realize I’d slept.

A blur. A sleepy haze. No way to spend a day. Reading. Nope! TV.  Making some food. Then, a nap. Or, two.

I let inner darkness, deep shadows taint my mood, my feelings, my thinking. Yesterday. Like a fever breaking. In a moment I recast all those melancholic ideas, feelings. They come from an extreme place. When the cancer rises. When sleep recedes. With extreme visions. Enough. Let’s coast toward the end. Your G.I. tract will never stabilize.

I saw them for what they were: my back against the wall solutions. Accept what they send as a message. Don’t be afraid to do something. Radical moments require radical responses.

Or. Do they? What if the slip into fearful solutions gets hijacked by a miserable guy, leading a not so happy life. For the last week. Could he, say choose hospice? Or drink more Miralax?

A week of disorientation, stomach/bowels upset only evokes a temporary setback. Just feels bad. Yet in the moment I had my melancholy blinker on. I would let in information or thoughts that confirmed my bias. A trap, a Chinese finger puzzle of the mind.

That moment of clarity I mentioned? Took off the blinkers, helped me see the whole wonderful world. Not just the parts of it causing pain. The note from Mary saying she might come and stay with me a while. That ramen. RJ and Michelle at Bond and Devick.

Disoriented? Yes. In psychic pain? Yes. Also companion to Shadow. Maker of ramen. Liking the cool weather.

Cancer, Fourth Phase, Health

A Sinking Ship

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Spring and the Trial Moon

Monday gratefuls: Some sleep. Joe. Shadow. Money. Visiting Angels. Katie. Samantha. Morning sun. Dog run. Orbit gum.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Alpha emitters

Kavannah: Contentment, Histakop. I have enough. Friends. Family. Money. Health. House. Help

Tarot: paused

One brief shining: The night time insult parade. Nope. Not sleepy. Where’s my duvet? This side, that side. Down. Up, the most comfortable. Get up. Go back to bed. Get up again. Moisten mouth. Back. No joy. That frustrated, purposeless moment when you realize: sleeps not coming.

 

My mind. Not shuttered, but turned way down. Thick liquid between its work and my reality. Lasts more or less all day. Hard to do anything except visit.

Sent word to RMCC. Sam. Asking for help.

Thoughts come and go, Michelangelo.

As with other moments, recent and faraway, when stressed my mind often shifts topics. In particular, considering the long term stress from over 11 years, wondering how much longer this sort of historic abomination I’ll put up with.

My body feels tired of it all. Would rather hole up in a cozy corner and read a book. Judy Sherman, my friend who chose death with dignity, told me: My body has had it. I now understand the depth of that short, simple statement.

This trial is my last stand. If it doesn’t produce bang up results–much lower PSA, tumors in retreat–I’ll look again at hospice. Weary.

Some of this is discomfort talking. Some of it comes from the bone weariness of piloting a sinking ship.

All I got for now.

 

 

 

 

 

Back Pain, Fourth Phase, Health, Shadow Mountain

Help

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Spring and the Trial Moon

Monday gratefuls:  G.I. tract calmer. Lightning. Red flag day. W.U.I. Rebecca. Visiting Angels. Politics. All dogs. Shadow.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Actinium

 

Kavannah: Netzach. Perseverance. Trial begins on Wednesday. I need netzach as I enter this latest round of treatment.

Tarot: paused

One brief shining: Today I have a meeting with folks from Visiting Angels. I need help at home. They will help me decide what kind. Looking forward to it. I realized a while ago I need help.

 

I have a difficult time making meals, seeing I get adequate nutrition. Cleaning the kitchen. Doing laundry. Standing and bending over, my head drops, straining my lower back from above. Changing sheets, pillow cases, blankets. Picking up and putting away groceries.

My old self exists. It looks at various household tasks, says, Oh, I can get those done in no time. So I get up to cook, to load the washer, to reorganize a crowded kitchen counter. And then, my back seizes up, my head drop exacerbates the back. Oof.

A helper for these tasks could lift the psychic burden–dishes, meals, laundry. I carry those unfinished tasks as a heavy collar around my neck.

I’m motivated by the trial which begins tomorrow. New, unknown side effects. Probably more appointments. I could use the unburdening.

Not cheap. Once Visiting Angels and I talk, I’ll create a budget and consult my financial folks at Bond and Devick. Plenty of money. Still, how much I leave behind matters to me.

In addition to the rollover I also have substantial equity in the house. I imagine that will more than compensate for whatever expenses I incur.

Rich Levine offered to help me look for a person. He found a companion for his mother, so he’s familiar with resources up here. After Visiting Angels and my financial consultation, I hope Rich and I can move quickly.

Moving through stages. I cooked and cleaned. Did the laundry. Not so long ago. Then, in September of 2023, I visited the Joseon Palace in Seoul. After a half hour of wandering this huge palace of Korea’s last dynasty, my back, which had never given me problems, failed. I hobbled to the car which seemed twice as far as when we entered.

A watershed moment. After much physical therapy and regular workouts, my back did not get better. Two and a half years of constant pain until my nerve ablation last November. That took away the pain, but my back problems continued.

This is why I need help.

I’m ready.

Not what I want.

Necessity.

 

Fourth Phase, Health

Feed the lev what it needs to prevail

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Spring and the Trial Moon

Friday gratefuls: Mitzrayim. Exodus. Diane. Carrie. Rebecca. Tara. Rich. Ron. Snow and cold. A winter day. Shadow’s kisses.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe:  Better Sleeping

 

Kavannah: Simcha. Joy.  I have such joy with my friends at CBE.

Tarot: paused

One brief shining: Woke up with slivers of myself dedicated to different, sometimes contradictory perspectives. One sliver says, oh, go on. Ratchet down. You know where things are headed. Another. I’m so tired of feeling sick. Another. It’s rally time! Absorb this new reality and get on with it. And this one, where has all the purpose gone? One more: You got scammed.

 

I’ve been drifting emotionally. Carried here and there by rivulets of despair, anguish, resignation. No firm place to grab hold, steady myself. Discombobulated. Rudderless. From this: Oh, go on. Ratchet down. Follow the slow rush toward the sea. Don’t fight it.

Recovery from my difficult constipation has taken way longer than I thought it would. Hasn’t fully arrived yet. That means I’ve felt stomach/gut sick for three weeks plus. The constant drain of this symptom, that symptom. Can I eat now? Will eating make me feel worse? Or, better? An alienated stomach.

So tired of feeling sick. I could discount it. Doesn’t work. The symptoms remain.

My sense of purpose. Lost. I felt circumscribed, hemmed in on all sides by cancer, an unhappy G.I tract, increasing weakness. Purpose dissolved. Feeling hemmed in. If there’s no place to go, purpose withers.

One footnote to all this. My dishwasher broke. I called a repair outfit I’d used before. Crow Hill Appliance. Trusted them. The woman scheduling the appointment was not as thorough as the one I remembered. I was ok with that. This was quicker. Oops.

When Slavic, the Ukrainian repair guy, came, we talked a bit and I left him to diagnose my sick dishwasher. A central circulating pump. $390. Sorry, it’s so expensive. I wrote him a check.

And. Nothing.

It was a slick ruse. And I let it happen–distracted, tired, not fully in my body. I don’t expect to get the money back, but I am calling the police.

This morning. A small, but powerful shift.  No symptoms. Body right. I was glad to be awake. A place to get a purchase. Grab on to a level of living above resignation, above a temporary illness. It’s rally time! First time in three weeks. Some juice left in the tank. That feels so good.

Reflection: Feeling sick, debilitated, has affected my mood–a lot. Even though I knew it was happening. I need to remember. Sick body drags down the lev. Conclusion: feed the lev what it needs to prevail.

This moment. Right now. A sun below the horizon–yet I can feel its power.

My lev quickens.

We await the light.

 

Fourth Phase, Health

Life Itself

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Spring and the Moon of Liberation

Tuesday gratefuls: Rich. Tara. Marilyn. Jamie and Ellen. MVP. Melancholy, come to visit once again. BJ and Pammy. Idaho.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Orion

Tarot: paused

One brief shining:  Embodied. Incarnate. I am life itself, riding this body, the only one I’ll ever have, on the ancientrail from birth to death. No, I’m not special. You and you and you ride alongside me. Someday our paths will fork. I’ll go on my way. You on yours.

 

Over the last two and a half weeks I’ve felt as sick and unhappy as I have in years. I’ve begun to suspect that in addition to constipation and sleep deprivation I had a g.i. bug. I’m still not back. When I eat, my stomach often rebels. I’m sleeping much better, yet still feel worn out. It’s important to me to write this. Get it on the page.

As my physical distress increased, waned, and lingered, as it does now, I went on an emotional journey. Could this mean something dire? Why haven’t I taken better care of myself? Will I feel like this forever?

Self-doubt. It wriggles up, carrying along with it other memories. Those weeks before and after my divorces. When I floundered, no longer at home in the ministry. Less dramatic. What have I done wrong with these vegetables? Why won’t Shadow come inside? Less dramatic, but still corrosive. Acid on the soul.

Focusing on my difficult times, in these circumstances, only made my hard times harder. See. You are like that. Have been all along. Shifting, can you feel it, from a man who made mistakes to a man who is a mistake.

How long can I endure? If I’m a man who is a mistake, not much longer. The pain and suffering will only recur and recur. Such a man can only bring down himself and those closest to him.

If, on the other hand, I am a man who makes mistakes, I can learn, change. Try to make a different mistake. This man will not disappear. Today gives me a chance to alter my diet. To get better sleep. I can even learn to say, oh that was a mistake, how silly of me.

There, you see? I’ve gotten this far down the page. Written myself into a happier place. The key today? I had begun to inch toward seeing myself as a man who is a mistake. One sabotages himself because that’s his nature.

No. I’ve felt miserable and sick because I was miserable and sick. Not as a necessary condition of a permanently flawed man. I can get myself into a better place. How? Eat well. Move. And move some more. Workout how to handle the brace and eating out. Don’t isolate. Participate in the trial.

In other words accept and assert my agency. Don’t let my inner world fill with self-doubt, recrimination. Fill it instead with self-regard, affirmation. Open myself to the wonder of being human.

Quietly.

Peacefully.

 

Family, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health

Charlie’s Big Day

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Spring and the Moon of Liberation

Wednesday gratefuls: Diane. Shadow’s duvet nest. Relief. My phone returns. Tara’s big help. Fiber and protein. Groceries.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cease Fire

Kavannah: Wonder. Malchut.  Shadow

Tarot: paused

One brief shining: Some days. Yesterday. Tara picked up my phone from the Synagogue. Once again I am in thrall. She also picked up my grocery order and my meds. The Miralax chose yesterday to kick in. I couldn’t have walked to the pharmacy and back to the car without a problem.

 

Not often two week defining events get resolved on the same day. Constipation ended though stomach soreness has not. I can sleep. Get up from a chair without concern. A festival moment for the Moon of Liberation.

My body got relief from a pestering problem.

Also starts sending out messages. Buy the high fiber oatmeal. The seven grain bread. Move more. Sensible. Stuff I know. I order a clamshell of Kiwi fruit.

Yesterday afternoon I had to get my groceries. Couldn’t. Asked Tara. She agreed. Got my meds. My pick up order. When she got back, she put the groceries away. A good friend.

Using the creepily easy find my phone feature in Google, I saw a small, red upside down tear light up in Lakewood. Lakewood? Only took a moment. Luke’s apartment. Made sense since we had lunch together on Sunday and Luke drove.

Sure enough. When Luke looked in the Subaru, my phone was on the passenger’s side. Yay! He took it to Bagel Table, but had to leave it there. Indisposed as mentioned above, I couldn’t get it. Tara had a tutoring student at CBE on Tuesday. Worked well.

When she came with the phone, she also brought Eleanor. Shadow and Eleanor played hard while Tara left for Safeway. I stayed home, preserving my dignity.

The two burs in my side since Sunday a week a go. Got plucked. It was 8-10 days of silence. Once I got over my 21st century existential crisis–someone might need to talk to me!–I found my phone’s absence a relief.

Except when I thought, oh, I need to text Ruth. Look up characters in a movie. Calendar. Emails. You know. That stuff we do with these powerful small computers.

I’m lucky to have a friend like Tara. She says yes whenever possible and shows such joy when helping. That makes it easier to ask her. I’m learning how to navigate this weaker me.

Happy that between my friends and Miralax I could have a celebratory Tuesday.

An epidemic of loneliness.

I live alone, largely relying on myself day-to-day. When trouble comes, I count on an inner-circle of friends and family.

Alone.
Yet surrounded.
By love.