Monthly Archives: October 2021

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Kabbalah, Mountains, Tarot

More about Jon

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Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

Saturday gratefuls: Kep and Rigel. Kep’s cytopoint shot. Mark in Saudi Arabia. Mary in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. Diane still in San Francisco. The Ancient Ones: Maine, Minnesota, Colorado. Jon. His suffering. Ruth, her depression. Coyote HVAC. Possible fancy cabinet maker for the kitchen. At a reasonable? price. The new hearing aid and the Roger.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Corned Beef and Eggs at New York Deli

Tarot: Eight of Cups

 

Mini-split installation proceeds. David and his helper were here until 3 yesterday. Heat pump installed next to the chimney on the outside wall for the main splits. Heat pump installed on the east (or so) facing side of the garage for the loft unit.

Excited for them to go operational next week. Though. I won’t use their heating function much. At least I don’t think I will.

It may be that they’re cheaper to use than my boiler. Wouldn’t be difficult. Gas up here is so expensive. I’m considering getting an induction stove to cut down on the escaping gas, a contributor to climate change. Doing the kitchen, so, hey!

Had lunch with Jon yesterday at the New York Deli. He’s in rough shape. As he walked toward me, he limped a bit, looked like an old man. He has cellulitis on his skin and goes in and out of low blood pressure as his cortisol replacement wanes. I’m worried about him.

Not a lot I can do given the distance, but I’m ensuring that he will not lose his house in the short term and hiring an electrician to fix a problem that causes certain appliances to go off if another one turns on.

When asked how his emotions fared, he replied, I’m doing ok. And, I believe him. He has a new possibility, being on permanent disability, and will probably get approved at least for medical leave through January.

He’s making prints, developing children’s books. Being creative is a happy place for him and I believe that’s keeping him sane right now. That and the kids. Ruth and Gabe are supportive when they’re with him.

Jon would really like to talk to Kate, get her advice. She was so smart, caring, and objective. A tough combination to find. Plus she knew his medical history. She worried, from the time I met her, that she would outlive him. She knew the ravages diabetes alone can wreak. Now he has the Addison’s which complicates his situation.

Seeing him made me sad, took me down a bit. I’ll cop to  compassion fatigue from caregiving and grief. However. I’ve gained back a lot of strength, gotten good rest in the 7 months since Kate died. 7 months!

Put in a request to look at new Medicare advantage plans. New West has screwed up one too many times for me. United Health, too. I need a new internist at least. In an organized practice that’s not bleeding providers. Found a great insurance broker who will help me look.

 

Eight of Cups:

Cups are the suit of the emotions, symbolized not only by the cups but the water swirling around them in this card.

I relate this to the Watercourse Way of Alan Watt’s, an explanation of Taoism and wu wei. Soft wins over hard. The water has cut a path down the mountainside and around the shelf of rock on which the cups, empty cups, sit.

The moon is in eclipse as the hooded figure, a druid?, a hermit?, climbs a steep trail up into the mountains.

The eights represent harvest, abundance, manifestation. The eight of cups suggests emotional closure, wrapping up an ongoing project, a phase of life that has come to an end. It suggests moving on, taking a new direction, leaving the old life behind.

Yesterday’s Moon, the 18th major arcana, told me I would have to go deep with Jon. Get into the parts of myself that have blocked me from him. I did that, saw him as he is right now. In part I’m leaving behind my old understanding of him.

Also, I’m leaving behind the most difficult parts of grieving for a new life. At least I feel that I am  Symbolized by the Hermitage. Contacted a neon sign company for a bid on the neon hermit. They will get back to me soon.

Still flailing a bit, tough finding a regular schedule, one that will allow consistency in my workouts. Ragged, not fully there yet. Partly due to taking two classes at once. I privilege time for class work. As I always have. And, there’s that damned Ikea bed which keeps losing its slats when Rigel climbs up on the bed. Gonna get some plywood to put under there. Should solve it.

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Judaism, Mussar

Breathing Easier

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Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

mini-split upstairs

Friday gratefuls: Jon, meeting him for lunch at the New York Deli. David, with Coyote HVAC. And, his helper. Marilyn, Ron, Rich, Tara, and Susan at MVP. Hitlamdut, or the middot of curiosity. Lisa, the respiratory therapist. My values on the spirometer test. Snow yesterday.

Sparks of joy and awe: OK to live here on Shadow Mountain

Tarot: The Moon, #18 of the major arcana

 

Not to bury the lede. Lisa, my pulmonologist’s p.a. equivalent, ran a spirometry test on me yesterday. If you haven’t had one, they’re simple. After clipping my nostrils shut, she gave me a device, see above, into which I inhaled a deep breath and then blew out for six seconds. Harder than it sounds.

We knew I had a breathing problem caused by my paralyzed left diaphragm; this measured its affect. And any other breathing issues as well. Not sure exactly what the numbers mean yet, but here’s what I do know: post-polio syndrome is not progressive and I can live up here as long as I feel able.

Admit I had some worry that the test would reveal a progressive issue that could force me to move to lower ground. Could have made all this work I’m having done seem foolish. Ready, fire, aim. That’s me. Not sorry. I mean, I did it anyway didn’t I?

There is some additional restriction, possibly from smoking, but it’s reversible using alubetrol, a bronchodilator. That means I’m good to remain in the Hermitage as long as I want. I felt lighter after this visit. Some good news at last.

Two more pieces of good news. I hadn’t considered that left-sided paraylisis of my diaphragm was a good thing. That’s because the right lung has two lobes and the left only one, to make space for the heart. Also, and this is a big duh, but, hey! Exercise that works my core strengthens the muscles that help me breathe, including my right diaphragm. Guess who’s gonna get religious about core work? Moi.

 

 

 

After playing who’s responsible for that axumin scan bill, I’m going to pay it. $1,100. And, a test I’ll have at least each year. Not happy. Means I’ll use this enrollment period for Medicare Advantage plans to hunt for a new plan.

I need to do that anyhow-though I can tell you that I want to do it as bad I want to walk across broken glass-because I learned in the calls about the scan that my doctor, Leigh Thompson, left the practice. And, no one has told me! This after my long time physician retired in January. New West Physicians has a bunch of problems. This one is the last bit of evidence I need.

Another piece of good news. At least potential good news. A Fairplay cabinet maker is looking to break into the Front Range market and may be willing to do my cabinets both earlier than we’d planned and at the same cost as Blue Mountain’s bid. His work is superb.

Last night at MVP we discussed hitlamdut, the middot, or soul characteristic, of curiosity. Got to use my Roger, the little microphone I set on the table. It bluetooths cleaned up speech to my hearing aid. It’s a marvel.

CBE’s new amphitheater will have a soft open on November 5th. Not finished, but close.

 

Feelings, Fourth Phase, Judaism, Politics, Tarot, US History

Proud to be a member of Beth Evergreen

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Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

A contemplative Mark Odegard

Monday gratefuls: Family and Friends. Ancient Ones. Johnsons. Kate and Mike. The Squid Game. Indigenous People’s Day. Mark Odegard, 77. Wow. A busy, but wonderful three days. Coyote HVAC. Feeling rested. Another frosty night. Winter is coming.

Sparks of Joy: Seeing Kate Strickland, whom I remember as a young child, all adult, with her husband, Mike.

Tarot:  The Lovers, Number 5 in the Major Arcana

 

Art and Culture, Dogs, Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Judaism, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Jon, Fiddler

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Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

Jon and Kate in his new house. The kitchen looks very different now.

Sunday gratefuls: Ovation West and Center Stage’s Fiddler on the Roof. Excellent. Jon, still struggling with Addison’s and diabetes and thyroid problems. Probably hospital next week. Ruth and Gabe, getting by with all this as best they can. Rigel, who barked in the middle of the Night. Kep, who did not. 33 degrees. Clear blue Sky. Ancient Ones. Johnson clan. Kate Strickland and Michael Banker at Scooter’s.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Family

Tarot: Queen of Wands

 

DIA, creative commons license

Gosh. Took Joseph to DIA, leaving here at 8:30 so he could get a rapid Covid test, a haircut. Got the test. Busy barbers. On to the airport. Much easier drive on a Saturday morning. Both ways. I said good bye to this sweet kid with a big hug at United departures. He lifted his heavy, heavy duffle and his also heavy backpack, trudged off into the terminal. On his way to LAX, then Honolulu, Seoah, and Murdoch. And tonight, Sunday night, back to the airport for a flight first to Guam, then Manila. In the middle of the week, then, back home.

Alan as the beggar

Got home. A brief liedown. Up at 12:30 for my Tree of Life Tarot spread class. Left the class early. To Center Stage in Evergreen to meet Jon, Ruth, Gabe for Fiddler on the Roof. Alan is in it. A beggar.

The production was wonderful. A small live orchestra accompanies most Center Stage musicals. And, they’re all musicals. Tevya was, oddly, the director of the Music Department at Colorado Christian College. His voice, stage presence, acting carried the show. Which had imaginative choreography, few props, and a compelling pace. The cast had chops.

Ruth and Gabe at intermission

It went from 2:30 to 5:45. Glad we didn’t do the evening show. I would have been snoring in my seat.

Because I screwed up my schedule and we didn’t get lunch before hand (I forgot to enter my class and the show on my calendar. Rare.), I waited for a Beau Jo’s Mountain pizza while Jon and the kids went on to Shadow Mountain.

About an hour later, I arrived home with a hamburger and sausage combination, 5-pound (how they sell them) pie.

Jon’s struggles with his disease triad, teaching, and depression have gotten worse. So much so that he’s applied for medical leave and has considered going on disability. Yes, it’s that severe. He gets intermittent low blood pressure that makes him weak, thrush that makes it hard to eat, not to mention the serious fluctuations in his blood sugar and cortisol levels.

The thrush went on long enough that he’s now thin, as Kate was. Eerie similarities in their path.

Gabe’s bris

All this concerns me, not only for Jon, but for Ruth and Gabe as well. Jon thinks his endocrinologist will put him in the hospital, possibly as soon as tonight or tomorrow. There they can manage his blood sugar and cortisol more closely, develop a plan for handling it. Jon told me last night that a small cohort of Addison’s sufferers have his symptoms, where the medicine does not resolve the cortisol insufficiency, creating crisis after crisis.

Not sure where all this goes. Time.

 

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Kabbalah, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Grief calling to grief

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Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

Thursday gratefuls: Kate, always Kate. Sandy, a sweet visit. Rigel’s skin problem. Joseph, on his way. The three Mule Deer Does that visited our yard yesterday afternoon. A very cool Night. The house all pretty. The mini-splits coming next week. And, the kitchen remodel is on! Fiddler on the Roof this weekend with Jon, Ruth, and Gabe. The Hermitage.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Learning

Tarot: Page of Arrows, the Wren.  Wildwood Deck

 

Got the green light from my financial advisor for the kitchen remodel plus the mini-splits. With the house staining completed on Tuesday these three will inspire me, I hope, to better cooking, make it possible to sleep in the heat and pollen season, and feel good when I turn in the drive coming home.

Our pre-Covid housekeeper, Sandy, came yesterday. She’s a smart, streetwise, tough, empathic lady. We talked a long time. Kate was a mother-figure to her.

Covid wrecked housekeeping/cleaner’s businesses. We paid Sandy for a month’s work because of that. Jackie, our hair stylist, too. While Covid was a nuisance for Kate and me, largely, it was a devastating loss for many small businesses, especially solo enterprises like Sandy and Jackie’s.

Sandy moved to Maryland to be with friends and family. Then found herself trapped there by Covid restrictions and strapped finances. She followed Kate’s decline through Caring Bridge. And felt awful because she missed Kate, wanted to see her, but couldn’t. We talked and cried together. Her grief signalling mine to come to the surface.

Sandy has a benign (?) brain tumor that pushed her brain stem to the side and a platelet disorder that might be a sort of blood cancer. Difficult health issues she gets. Her life has had steep valleys, few peaks. A son in difficulty in California. Her bio mom and her adopted mom’s deaths. The loss of her successful cleaning business. A long period of addiction.

It feels so peaceful in here. When I came before, there was always this sadness. Kate was holding on, but barely. Now though it’s calm here. I know Kate’s happy for you.

She wanted you to have this time, this peace. She’s smiling, her suffering’s over. And she’s watching you.

Sandy was very confident about Kate’s presence in an amazing, warm place. As is Jackie. I take comfort in their comfort. Difficult for me though. I’d like to believe it. Maybe the reincarnation, soul business could explain it? Oh, the skeptic in me hangs on with his fingertips. Hell, no, his whole hands. I’ll leave it at don’t know.

Life here in the Hermitage has changed in the last month or so. The inner weathervane turned toward calm skies, cool days, and quiet nights. The fourth phase.

Leaning into the hidden, the mysterious, the unknown. The fantastic and the fabulous. Leaning into love, longtime friendships, family, dogs. Home where my heart really, really is. A time of the spirit, a time of transition from life to death.

 

 

 

Aging, Art and Culture, Fourth Phase, Kabbalah, Memories, Minnesota, Myth and Story, Our Land and Home, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Travel, Woolly Mammoths

Fourth Phase Life

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Fall and the Moon of the Thin Veil

Wednesday gratefuls: A stained house, newly painted garage doors. Daniel. Alvin. Greg. Sandy, coming up to be with Kate’s ashes. Kate, always Kate. The Woolly retreat in November. The Mountains. The Rocks, Lodgepoles, Aspens, Creeks, and Wild Critters. Deep peace.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Roadtrip!

Tarot: Ace of Pentacles

 

Daniel stained my whole house in just over a day. A sweet man. The 3M window coverings reminded me of St. Paul, of the Twin Cities. Alvin, his partner yesterday, took down my blue lights. Think I’m gonna leave’m down. Lots of neighbors complaining about lights ruining the dark Sky, a true Mountain amenity. They’re not wrong. Does mean I gotta dig out the box of solar lights I ordered. I need something to identify our house at night. So easy to drive right past it.

January 2020

On Monday, Coyote HVAC. Then, choosing between bids for remodeling the kitchen. Probably won’t happen until later in the year. May seem strange, my doing all these things, spending a bunch of money. Not to me. They represent another phase of grief, one in which I celebrate what Kate and I had together while creating my fourth phase life. Hence, I’m enhancing the house she found and in which we shared our last years together.

Got a note from the Assistance Fund, the one that pays down my copay for Orgovyx from $800 a month to $10. I have to reapply for coverage on December 1st. Won’t miss that deadline.

Greg Lell, owner of the painting company, came by yesterday to get his check. We got to talking. He was, he said, a dairyCatholic.* He ran the words together. His parents figured out a three to four year gap system that resulted in six siblings for him, and, crucially, a new farm hand growing into the job as one left it. Oddly, he has a distinctive Texas accent, but he grew up in Colorado. Over 15 years in Texas he began to sound like a native.

Many Woolly brothers, Tom, Mark, Paul, have decided not to attend the retreat. Excellent reasons, probably ones that apply to me, but I need to get outta here, get on the road, be somewhere else. Not new, forty years a Minnesotan, but also not Colorado.

Largest wood fired kiln in the U.S. Bresnahan in sportcoat

I will be staying in retreat lodging at St. John’s Monastery in Collegeville. I have done retreats there before and visited many times. The ceramic urn which holds Kate’s ashes came out of the Johanna Kiln, shaped by Richard Bresnahan from clay dug not far from the monastery. The firing of the Johanna Kiln is a major event as it’s a dragon kiln with several bays snaking up a hillside. When it’s firing, volunteers feed split Wood into its firebox 24 hours a day until the ceramics finish their ordeal. Maybe I’ll finally buy a teapot.

Drew the Ace of Pentacles this morning. The aces are potential, the essence of their suit. Pentacles represent mother earth, malkut, this world, this physical world. In many cases this card may signal success in business, an inheritance, making progress in a career. It also can suggest deep peace, well being in this world. Feeling calm.

As I’ve entered this new phase of grieving, a great calm has settled within me. A deep peace. I’m more in my life than regretting, mourning Kate’s death. As I said yesterday, my life with her is the foundation for this phase, what I’m calling my fourth phase. I’m modeling this fourth phase idea on the Hindu life phase of renunciation and a focus on the spiritual.

The Ace suggests I’m on the right path. Let’s call it a new ancientrail. Though the road that led here connects to it, this ancientrail has made a sharp turn toward the West, toward the setting Sun. It is the final phase of life and one I want to walk intentionally. To walk it like a Celtic Christian saint. Peregrenatio.

*Yes, I did mention the other dairyCatholic I know, Mr. Bill!

Art and Culture, Fourth Phase, Kabbalah, Myth and Story, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Tarot, Writing

What do I believe about myself/my life that if I let go of it would free me? 

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Fall and the Thin Veil Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Black Mountain. Golden Fire. Those bucks who visited. Coolness. Daniel. Alvin. Greg. Staining the house. Amy at Mile High Hearing. Phonaks. The Roger. Kate, always Kate. Mark Horn. The Tree of Life spread. Tarot. Changing my perception of myself. That steak I thawed. Potatoes. Peas and carrots. Self-care.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mark Horn’s answer to my Tarot spread question

Tarot: Two of Cups

 

This exchange is an email between the man, Mark Horn, teaching the Tree of Life spread class, and myself. I post it here because he somehow (how does the Tarot work, anyhow?) identified a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately.

“How can I share the wisdom of the road I have taken with others? Then when the Hermit reversed shows up in Binah, you might ask, In what ways am I hesitant about stepping into my role as Sage?”

Hesitant. Reluctant. Shy. Timid. Maybe not words you’d apply to me. But they are on target in this instance. I’ve been a faithful student all my life, learning as much as I can. I have written novels and short stories. Many sermons. Literally millions of words on this bog. Yet, I’ve done almost nothing to ensure others see my work, hear my voice.

“What do I believe about myself/my life that if I let go of it would free me?” Mark asked. This question tumbles around now like clothes in the washer. Why have I been so timid, so shy, so reluctant, so hesitant to get my work out there?

I don’t know the answer, but it’s a question worth exploring. This tarot stuff. Powerful.

 

I wrote to Mark:

“Though I’m less new to Kabbalah, I’m still in an early learning state with Tarot.

Which makes me feel unable to properly read the cards I got for my supernal triad spread.

Keter: The Devil

Chokamah: The Chariot

Binah: The Hermit reversed

I got stuck on the Devil in the Keter position. Is my shadow the point here? I’m a recovering alcoholic, but I’ve been sober and calm 46 years. Not really addicted to anything.

Anyhow, I then noticed the Chariot has a crown, so it’s stronger up here in the supernal triad. Not sure what ambition is about for me at 74. Not feeling like there are mountains for me to climb. Except of course the mountain on which I live. Ironically, it’s named Shadow Mountain.

Hermit reversed? My wife died in April so I’m a widower, living in our house with our two dogs, Rigel and Kepler. I like being alone, but I see friends, close friends, regularly and attend Congregation Beth Evergreen’s events and see my grandkids and step-son regularly.

Can you point me toward some help?

I enjoyed the class a lot. Looking forward to next week.

 

Mark Horn responded:

Hi Charles,

I’m glad you enjoyed the class. Let me give you some suggestions for these cards.

When the Devil appears in Keter, well, one of the questions that comes up you have already spoken to, which is addiction of some sort—but there’s more to the Devil than that—it’s always good to ask, “is there some lie that i have been told about myself, or taken in unconsciously, that I need to free myself from?”

-What do I believe about myself/my life that if I let go of it would free me?

-Does my experience with addiction give me a role to play in helping others find freedom from substance abuse? (And specifically, if you’re in AA, have you taken on the role of a sponsor or a service position in your local AA? And if not, why not?)

-How can I help others see through their illusions with humor? (The esoteric title of the Devil is The Lord of Mirth, and humor that helps people see the truth is one of the possible ways to interpret the card)

-And yes, shadow is something that comes up here too, so that a question to ask is: what shadow elements do I still need to bring to light and heal?

With the Chariot, some questions in the Chokmah position might be:
How can I better engage the wisdom I have achieved? What new goals would inspire me? How can I share the wisdom of the road I have taken with others?

The Hermit and reversals—I haven’t discussed how to read reversed cards yet, so good to have asked. This is one of those places where I let my intuition take over. By that I mean I don’t always read reversals. My feeling is that the context will help, and every hard has both a positive and negative reading, and which reading to go with becomes clear as we examine and ask questions. But, since a question that came up with the Chariot in Chokmah could be:  How can I share the wisdom of the road I have taken with others? Then when the Hermit reversed shows up in Binah, you might ask, In what ways am I hesitant about stepping into my role as Sage? How can I share my light with others who need it? In what ways can I make my life an example for others who are struggling on their path?

With three Major Arcana cards in the Supernal triad, this is a powerful grouping, and given the context you mentioned, feels very much to the point.

One of the reasons I give “questions to ask” rather than interpretations of the card is that an interpretation is closed, but a question, at least the way I try to phrase it, is open-ended and calls for thought before a response. It may not even call for a response, but be more of a question to live with. The questions are meant to resonate with the querent, and lead them to examine things they may or may not have thought about.

And one thing I often tell people I read for is that the cards almost always tell you something you already know—you just need to hear it again or hear it from another source so that you’re more present to the information.

I hope this is helpful.

Everbest,

Mark”

 

Astrology, Beyond the Boundaries, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Great Wheel, Health, Jefferson County, Judaism, Kabbalah, Mountains, Myth and Story, Original Relation, Our Land and Home, Plants, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Weather +Climate

My Cauldron

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Fall and the waning crescent of the Michaelmas Moon

Monday gratefuls: Greg Lell, starts today staining the house. Susan, who will care for the dogs when I go to Minnesota, comes at 10:30. Marina Harris and her crew coming today to clean. RJ working on how much money I can spend. Coyote HVAC next Monday. Kate, always Kate. Those two Mule Deer Bucks. The beginning after the ending.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The World, #21 of the Major Arcana

Tarot: The World

 

Bubbling and churning. My life a cauldron, happily. Eye of house stain. Leg of house cleaning. Fingernail of dogsitter. Horn of Mule Deer Buck. Feather of mini-splits. Bits of redo and redesign of kitchen. A dash of Orgovyx. One major arcana. A pinch of the ayn sof. A sprinkle of Stars. A slice of Woolly Mammoth Tusk. Two measures of Aloha. Tears of grief. Stir with family and Congregation Beth Evergreen. Simmer for a season or two.

Not sure of much these days. Which suits me just fine. My path has companions worthy of Chaucer. A location worthy of poetry. A destination unknown.

My ancientrail, my life, has begun to reknit itself, reconstruct. The base of this reknitting? The love and life I had with Kate. Her smile, her laugh, her sharp insights, her deep knowledge and compassion. Her kindness. Not gone, here, right here in my soul. Her hand in mine until the end of time.

She found this house. She earned most of the money I receive monthly. She encouraged me to leave the ministry and take up writing. We were brave together. Adventurous. We loved each other and left imprints on each other’s souls.

Now I have to walk this ancientrail without her physical presence. I wish it were not so, but it is. As I put a few touches on the house, learn methods to access the occult, manage my cancer, exercise, spend time with friends, read, write, paint, I’m living forward, not looking backward.

Changing the house a bit will help me say, yes, this is my place, too. It will never be other than our place, but no ghosts allowed. Only good memories.

The whole Tarot, Kabbalah, Astrology, Judaism journey has me on a strange side road from that of the skeptic. Where it leads is to mystery, of that I’m sure. How it will affect my life? Unclear. Maybe a lot. Maybe only some. Tincture of time. (a favorite phrase of Kate’s)

When I came up for closing on this house, October 31, 2014, three Mule Deer Bucks greeted me in the back. We stood with each other for a long time, not moving, seeing each other. After they left, I knew the Mountain Spirits had welcomed Kate and me to their realm. Samain.

Yesterday, two more came.

 

They came on a day when Black Mountain was aflame.

I got up this morning and let Kep out and he chased one of the bucks who had stayed the night. The buck cleared the five foot fence as if it wasn’t there. Kep was pretty damned proud of himself. He never barked.

Back to that pot. Double, toil and trouble, cauldron burn, cauldron bubble.

 

Astrology, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Kabbalah, Science

A Good Oncology Visit

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Fall and the Michaelmas Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Mark Horn. The sephirot. The Tree of Life. Zoom. Kabbalah. Astrology. Alan. The Parkside. Breakfast out. Jackie. Oyama. Kristie. Quest labs. Golden Trees. Tall Mountains. Water falling down the Mountainside. The new trail. Evergreen.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Tarot

Tarot:  The Moon, #XVIII of the Major Arcana

 

Guess this is good news. I didn’t remember my visit to my oncologist when I wrote yesterday’s post. Anyhow, I’m remembering it now.

The route I took so often with Kate. To Swedish Hospital. Down the Hill to 285 and go on until morning. Well, at least to the Safeway just past Broadway. Urology Associates has an office at the Swedish campus, one of three.

Saw Kristie. Whom I like. She shows me my reports, prints them out. Explains things. She’s an advocate for her patients. Will listen to whatever question I have and answer it as well as she can. She’s never in a hurry. “I want to be your cheerleader.” From a lot of folks that would make me bristle, but with Kristie, I hand her a pompom.

In less than a month Orgovyx has taken my PSA down from 7.4 to 1.0. “That’s a great result.” Two bits, four bits… The side effects have begun to diminish. The debilitating fatigue is gone. The hotflashes are intense but shorter and less frequent than the Lupron induced ones. It did not raise my blood sugar. Somehow the lipid panel got missed, but I’ll find out next time if it’s pumping up my triglycerides.

I’ve achieved castration level testosterone reduction. Gosh. Isn’t that good! …a dollar. All for vanished testosterone stand up and holler!

My location in the prostate cancer trajectory has changed. I now have advanced prostate cancer. In essence this means it can no longer be cured. But, it can be managed as a chronic disease. Androgen deprivation therapy, ADT, can work, does seem to be working for me right now. However, ADT often finds its utility waning after it has been used for a while. Some kind of resistance builds up.

And so. I had a blood draw at Kristie’s request. Well, Aster tried twice to draw my blood, said “I failed! I’m gonna get Paula.” Aster told me the story of her first for real blood draw. “The guy forgot to tell me he was terrified of needles. He jerked when I poked him and the needle went in, under the skin, and came out further on. I think I was more upset than he was.” I bet that’s a memory that will last. Paula succeeded.

The blood draw is for a genetic test that identifies 32 genetic mutations known to cause prostate cancer. Kristie, “This is not only for research. We now have targeted drugs for some of these mutations. If you have one of them, we may able to give you a specific therapy for your cancer.”

Thinking to that day when ADT no longer works.

A good visit. As good as you can have at your oncologist’s. Cancer losing. More losing expected. Other treatments available.

Told Kristie I realized the other day that I’ve now had prostate cancer for six and a half years. Glass half full Kristie said that means mine is less aggressive because I went for some time with lower PSA’s. True. But. Aggressive enough to keep coming back after the two gold standard treatments: prostate removal and radiation.

Even so. It was good.

Not going into it today, but I started my Tarot and the Tree of Life Spread class. Mark Horn is a good teacher. Organized. Thoughtful. Kind. Responsive.

The Moon. #18 in the major arcana. Again. I keep drawing major arcana. The Lady. The Moon. The Hermit. The Devil. The Chariot. A lot of energy swirling around me, in me. Feels right.

Will just note here that I’m having a push/pull experience with my Kabbalah, Tarot, Astrology learning. The skeptic, a key part of my mental habitus, keeps screwing up his face. C’mon, Charles. Whatcha doin?

Another part says, yeah, I know. But the way these cards have spoken to me, I can feel an inner world value, an introspective assist that helps me. Same with the Kabbalah. Astrology still kicks in the skeptic, but I’m trying to figure out how it fits with the archetypal insights from Kabbalah and Tarot. I’m holding all this in my alembic, believing that the fire of continuous practice will decide how I really feel.

 

 

 

 

Fourth Phase, Friends, Great Wheel, Jefferson County, Mountains, Tarot

A Picture Show

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Fall and the Michaelmas Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Kristie. Paula. That other nurse who couldn’t make the poke. Orgovyx. Swedish. A lot of bad memories. Full workout. Long sleep, again. Jon, struggling. Cool rain. Coming home to the mountains. Gates of Light and the Tree of Life.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tarot

Tarot: Devil, #15, The Chariot, #7, and the Hermit, #9 of the Major Arcana. This is a homework spread for my Tarot and the Gates of Light class.

 

Left early this morning for breakfast with Alan at the Parkside. The waitress told me she’d look for my breakfast partner. We’re known there. And, Rebecca Martin came in, too. More of that casual connectedness that I described last week. Love it.

And, the Aspen have turned, lighting up the Mountainsides like deciduous Bonfires. Cool days. The glory of a Mountain Autumn. It’s different up here from the Midwest where the Forests are a riot of colors, Some folks find our Fall less attractive, but I’m not one of them. I find its simple abundance of gold wonderful.

After Alan and I had breakfast, I drove back saying, under my breath, so beautiful. I love it here. These Mountains, so beautiful. Talked myself into checking a second Denver Mountain Parks trail that I’d noticed only after a recent round of work by Jeffco creating a small pullout parking lot.

One problem I’ve had with hiking recently is that most trails have altitude gain or loss (which translates to gain on the way back) and my post-polio lungs work too hard. Thought about taking the Inogen with me and I may have to do that some day, but, not yet.

All along this new trail (new to me) I kept saying, again to myself, This is great. This is great. The trail follows a small Mountain Stream through a steeply sided Canyon with rocky, Tree lined walls. And, it’s roughly level. We are at 8000 feet or so, so it’s hardly sea level, but that’s not as much problem for me. It’s the exertion that makes me huff and puff.

Anyhow, I’ll finish with something I haven’t done in a while: a picture show.

The Trail Begins

 

 

Grandfather Tree