Hi Friends,
Today I began to reflect upon how I now pass the days. When I began chemo, I found myself kicking back at time, unsure how to work with it. I remember one particular day when I was on my bed, nauseous, looking at the digital clock: 1:00 pm. Then, what seemed like some time later, I looked again: 1:05. Panic. Oh my god, and this is only August. How will I manage until December? I was so unclear about how to make friends with time. How do I will this fall to pass quickly without wishing my life away? What will I have missed because I was just wishing it to be over?
I have come to learn how little I can do in a day and still be ok, making peace with time by observing it as I would a slowly moving train. I watch it pull into the station, slow down and pull out again, but I don't feel the same need to chase it, I can let it go. Tomorrow, another train will pull through. I don't need to get on this one today, nor the one tomorrow. They just keep coming, everyday. One day I'll get on, but until then, I'll sit and practice being content on the platform.
I started on Percocet tonight to manage the pain. The pain is still there, slightly muted, but it's not "pingy." Certainly better than last round. Thank god for strong drugs.
Much love,
Kip
Giving over is a huge accomplishment. Making peace with time is a very hard thing to do. I remember being soooo impatient when Rory was small and I would lie with him trying to get him to sleep. I lay there, poised to spring out of bed and "get busy" the second his eyes closed; of course, he'd wake up immediately. After awhile, I realized that it just takes the time that it takes....I had to learn to shut my brain off and just enjoy it instead of resenting it....This was a small experience so kudos to you, Kip, being able to watch the train come and go in the midst of this large experience.
ReplyDeleteI'm happy to know that last week's chemo round was better than the one before, and that the pain and side-effect management techniques -- awkward though they sound -- are working. I imagine the sandwich (on challah, yet!) being cut into bite-size portions and popped into your mouth while you wear your ice gloves. Catherine's revelation that you have a tail came as a surprise.
ReplyDeleteWe all need to learn to let the train go on its own time. Thank you for reminding us.