CELEBRATE the LIGHT

A few weeks ago, doctors modified Dale's diet by excluding milk products and gluten. He has lost over 30 pounds and feeling much better. Who knew? Such a simple change making a huge change in Dale's overall health conditions. Simple??? Milk, cream, cheese, wheat, breads, pasta, and breading is everywhere. Gone. And we had just purchased Tillamook cheeses and Ritz crackers! So I take those to work and have one slice of cheese and 4 Ritz crackers for lunch. I may as well go on the same restrictive diet as it is healthy eating and in the meantime, gently finish off what we do have of the forbidden foods. The things we spouses do for each other!

In the meantime, I have a need to CELEBRATE the LIGHT I feel. Dale and I now look at our marriage as before Cancer, CANCER, and after Cancer. Since 2011 at diagnosis, life has been pretty tough with not only cancer but life and its many challenges. Some challenges directly related to cancer, others not.

During CANCER, we made it through with many, many people supporting us. We sold a home, built another, sold it and sold another, blending both homes into one and moved into our new home eight houses down the street.  We've completed the basement in the new home and decluttered the yard (taking out about 7 trees and 12 shrubs) and fine tuned other landscape pieces ( I did much of the work under Dale's imaginative & creative directions and supervision). Dale's fragile health forced him to retire. I completed my dissertation--slowed down during CANCER, but still completed it. It is a good study and if the reader wants to read it, send me a message and I will reply with a direct link to the study as it is published online.  My work conditions turned from united supportive colleagues to oppressed strangers when I was transferred to a new setting. Almost two years ago, we were told that CANCER was back and we geared up for several hospital stays. Fortunately, it was not cancer and explained in previous blog postings.

Other fragile health issues have continued through the months of after Cancer. Dale has maintained reasonable health (especially with new diet restrictions), completes what chores around our home as he can and has completed over 250,000 names in the indexing system for genealogy purposes. He is a volunteer for a church supported employment center and also volunteers at the VA. His good days are increasing as the bad days decrease.

I did not realize the depth of my own oppression until a new leadership team was formed. A few weeks ago, I pondered my life and felt joy. A joy I have not known for a few years.  During CANCER, survival comes to mind. I was reminded of my neglected hair styles during CANCER and now after Cancer even my hair style is updated and cared for.  After Cancer gives me a focus on life's blessings and hardships blended into what we call challenges. We have done hard things and we are okay. There is reason to CELEBRATE the LIGHT I feel. And perhaps I would not know the magnitude of that joy without the blessings and hardships called CANCER.

Perhaps it is the season. The LIGHT shines bright within our home with seasonal lights, displayed nativity scenes, and sparkling lights twinkle on the tree and front porch trimmings. The cold crisp winter air, sun glistening on snow topped mountains, and snow storm forecasted for the week brings me into a cozy feeling of chestnuts roasting on an open fire....I feel the joy of the Christmas Season with a deeper understanding of the LIGHT and #ASAVIORISBORN. We can and have done many hard things. The joy is known once again.

Forced cleansing works

Forced cleansing must work because Dale reported he has not feel this good for a long long time. He did two days of chores all in one morning and still had energy to spare. Seven days of diarrhea must have taken all the toxins out of his system. He feels like a new person.

The diagnosis from tests and observations is diet control, i.e. low carbohydrates and no lactose for a month and check back with both his regular physician and the gastroenterologist for further checkups on the biopsies from the procedures.

I guess I need to finish off the ice cream, yogurts, milk, and cheeses all by myself.

Surprises that aren't really surprises

Dale has done relatively well and then, perhaps, it just seems that his bad health is normal. He is constantly plagued with diarrhea which precludes him doing much outside of the home. We carefully plan outings around when he eats and where bathrooms are located.  He has a quick exit bench week at church and knows where bathrooms are anywhere we go. Many times, as soon as we get home, Dale makes his way to the bathroom, just is time.  When he has a day of his situations, it exhausts him physically and emotionally. Fortunately, for both of us, he cleans up the bathrooms of the situations and does his own laundry--sometimes two or three times in a day. This behavior normally goes on for one to two days and then he is okay for three or four days.

This week it worsened. Vomiting added to several situations, laundry loads, and bathroom cleanups made it more complicated. Plus, this behavior continued four days with no relief in sight. Nothing would stay in one end or the other. He thought he may have C. Diff. (Clostridium Difficile Colitis)  which he had many times during the cancer year. After a visit to the ER, it was determined that it may be a good idea to keep him at hospital for more testing as he was clearly dehydrated and fatigued.

One night has turned into two nights/days so far. Tests determined it is not C. Diff.  Another test of the specimens are being completed now which takes time. Those results demanded one more night at hospital. I was with Dale for several hours today. Every hour there was another bout of diarrhea even though he had eaten very little. As he ate dinner, the nausea took over, he vomited and was in the bathroom within a few minutes. His innards gurgle and sputter. He is weak and discouraged.

It was not a surprise when it was determined he needed to stay for more tests, more observations, more data on his condition. It was not a surprise that it is not as simple as C. Diff. could have been. And it won't be a surprise if they say, they don't know what is going on. Dale has reported his diarrhea condition to each doctor he goes to. Each has given a pill to help. It hasn't. He has an appointment with his internist this week who was beginning to look a bit deeper into his condition. There will be plenty of new data for him now.

Four conditions

We traveled north to the Tetons. It was a good thing for us to do. First vacation with no agenda attached for many years. The travel was quiet and calm with minimal traffic. The ride together was good. Both of us had several moments of leaving-the-rest-of-the-world-behind and enjoyed each others company, the wonderful mountains, and the the fresh Spring surroundings.

Teton Mountains

I write this blog entry today to update health conditions. Dale reports fatigue, weakness, and overall not feeling well. The trip verified his inability to travel. We carefully planned eating around bathroom access and took frequent breaks. I enjoyed the beauty, he enjoyed the time to rest. I brought a book to read, but to my surprise, he wanted to play cards (something he normally detests!) We spent uneventful, quiet, relaxing time playing cards in the cabin with the rain pounding around us for a few hours. Nice!

Dale's diabetes seems to be causing discomfort. His digestive system is sensitive and even though they have tested and looked for causes of the constant diarrhea, they say nothing is wrong. He is working with physicians to determine healthcare plan for his back and neck pain. Pain shots seem to help but can't be injected as often as needed.

Four conditions: Fatigue, diabetes, digestive system, back/neck pain. But no cancer that we know of. However...he feels miserable most of the time.  His main exercise is the domestic chores around the house, which I soooo appreciate. Dale has become a creative culinary artisan. He needs frequent rests and paces his chores. He does more than he should health-wise, but emotionally-wise what he can do.

Receiving the Gift

Although Dale's last few days have been miserable, I feel spiritually fed and uplifted.  One night he was rechting from one end with horrible diarrhea and vomiting from the other all at the same time. Miserable, miserable.  Unfortunately, I have become accustomed to his nightly routine of sickening sounds and constant night bathroom walk-abouts. But that night was unusually miserably miserable. I got up and readied for a day of work, checked on him one more time before leaving for the day, and found that he was white, fragile, and scared. I stayed home with him, transported him to one of his doctor's appointments, and moved into the care-taker mode again. His needs and fears are great and reasonably so.

Dale's fragile whole body health waivers more so in the winter. Today is the winter solstice which means it is the last of the long nights. That is good. A neighbor suggested that Dale should get his lawn mower/snow blower out (no snow in the valley this year) because he seems to feel better when he can mow the lawn/clear the walks. We chuckled, but there is some truth to that. Dale's need of nature is mostly manifested in the Spring outdoors cleanups and summer yard work. He loves a well groomed and colorful yard. I am blessed with a comfort in knowing nature takes care of us as we take care of it.

Another neighbor gifted about 40 friends with a Christmas dinner in her home. Her husband passed away a few months ago, yet she gifted each of us with love, friendship, and the gift of the Light of Christ in this Christmas season. Dale was not present, however, the love and concern for his well being was deeply felt by me. I felt blessed to be among such caring neighbors.

Saturday, we spent a few hours at one of Dale's son's home with the grandchildren. Dale was able to maintain well enough to enjoy those great children. What a delight! These moments with grandchildren are cherished. I feel blessed in playing legos, reading letters, and admiring coloring skills with one, giggling with his sister while playing catch with her life-size doll, and teasing the little one with his big car.

Today, Sunday, I attended church without Dale. He feels better, but that is a relative statement. Better than Friday, not as good as Saturday, worse than Thursday, and not comfortable enough to be around many people (germs), wearing Sunday best (sitting a long ways away from a bathroom), and too weak (still white in color) to sit for a period of time. I had not been able to practice with the choir, however, was involuntarily volunteered to sing with them in today's production. I feel blessed for that experience of singing praises among choir members (and angels who sang with us) and thus, feeling filled with the love of the season with those who shared musical testimonies of Christmas Joy.

Later, I was asked to give the Christmas lesson to the women's auxiliary meeting. I shared Christmas Joy, Love, and the Gift of Christmas (#ShareTheGift). I feel blessed that I was given that opportunity to share Christmas with others.

I believe in the goodness of people. I believe as we care for one another, pray together and for each other, goodness happens.

I believe Dale's health miserableness is a residual of chemotherapy, winter depression, and unknown weakened medical conditions lingering within his organs. I believe his miserableness continues because there are lessons to learn, people to care about, gifts to give, and gifts to receive. I choose to receive those gifts with joy and love, as I have felt in the past several days.

Cancer is an obsession

Cancer is no respecter of anything or anyone. It creeps into a life, takes over, and becomes an obsessive soul of thought. A friend's remission is over. She was told they would work at extending her life 10, may 20 years, but "you may want to get your affairs in order." I, in my wisdom, began to listen to her concerns, but am obsessed with telling my story as it connected (or really disconnected) to her story. Yes, I listened, however, in the conversation, interjected my journey.

It is not my journey that counts for her. It is her journey.

I recall when people would tell me of their aunt, cousin, grandpa, spouse, child, or whomever, has or had cancer and included the details. It was a compassionate gesture, a connection, an attempt to give hope or understanding. I thought: "But our story is more important to us now. Thanks for sharing and making an attempt to give compassion to our story...but your story is not our story."

Listen. Answer questions if asked, but listen. Cancer is tough enough without the need to be socially correct in a conversation.

It is all about the cancer, the healing, the processing, the emotions, and the love for the cancer patient. It is not about me and my journey, it is about her and her journey.

Cancer is an obsession. Forgive me if I obsess about our journey, because as any (remission) cancer patient knows, cancer is an obsession.

Human body puzzle

The past several weeks brought an urgency to, once again, get things in order. To make sure decisions are made, talk with those that are loved, and prepare for the next steps of treatment. A few months ago, we were told that the cancer was back. With more tests, it was not back. Then because of the spots found in his lungs, told he probably had lung cancer. More tests showed he did not. A few weeks ago, Dale was told it looked like bladder cancer had been found. With more tests, there was no bladder cancer.

A roller coaster of emotions, preparing for some kind of invasive cancer killing treatment, plagued our minds. With each clarification of the initial diagnosis, a feeling of relief was clouded with feelings of frustration and confusion.

What do doctors know any way? Do they drum up more business/income by requesting more testing, and thus more doctor visits, referrals for followup appointments, and therefore more testing? The medical billing cycle is well oiled in healthcare.

However, without doctor's opinions in personal healthcare, treatment will not happen.

We were told with mantle cell lymphoma that Dale would do well for awhile and eventually his organs would have difficulty functioning properly. Partially due to the weakened immune system and partially due to the enormous amount of chemotherapy. At each diagnosis we were ready to begin the new phase of Dale's cancer treatment, whatever that meant. Then with each false diagnosis we felt that a few more months of life have been granted.

A cancer surviving friend told Dale today, he will never feel well again. Harsh statement. What hope is there in that? Yet, it also gives hope in why he never really feels well. I have written many times in the blog, we often forget the impact  and intensity of his treatment. We just want the "cold" or "flu" to be done and get back to "normal" again. Not going to happen.

Healthcare Puzzle

Summary: the human body is a puzzle. With all its variables, healthcare people do pretty well keeping the pieces working and fitting together. Critical pieces of the puzzle may be damaged or missing and with a team of healthcare physicians, new puzzle pieces are created (prosthetics), replaced (organ transplants), or cleansed (chemotherapy). The human body puzzle is complete, yet not quite as good as the original puzzle.