Fuel Up!

The capacity for hope is the most significant fact of life. It provides human beings with a sense of destination and the energy to get started. - Norman Cousins

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Hope comes in many forms and is found in many places. To some, hope can be found in churches; amongst encouraging loved ones; in seeing the sun rise after a long hard night; in hearing the laughter of children at play; seeing a marathon runner cross the finish line; in a song; or in hearing the testimony of a survivor. Hope can be found most anywhere at any given time -- there for the taking. It is an optimist's bright guide and a pragmatist's best companiion.

I am more pragmatic than optimistic. And while it's true that one needs to be at least a little optimistic when fighting something like cancer, I think that, in my case, it's more important to be pragmatic. See, I'm not wired to be optimistic even though faith and hope are the foundation of my existence. Even though I don't look at the world through rose-colored glasses or sing "the sun will come out tomorrow," I do believe that everything happens for a reason -- good or bad. Nothing is in vain. It all goes towards the "big pot of purpose" Although many times, I don't know what the reason is, I have absolute faith that there is always a reason. This keeps me sane and grounded. Life moves, albeit sometimes in mysterious ways. If you don't move with it, you'll get left behind, perhaps stagnate and eventually atrophy. Hope is the the fuel that enables movement, especially when moving is the hardest. And when you're saddled with a heavy load like having to fight cancer, you need to get to your nearest hope fueling station and fill up!

My hope fueling station is nestled in the second floor of a mid-sized office building in the middle of the city. Hope was dispensed from a large room at the end of a long and cold hallway, flanked on either side by offices. The door opened to a rather gray and sterile reception area, always full of people either waiting for their turn to go beyond the reception area for their turn or waiting for someone else who is inside. Once seen, one of the two receptionists quickly greeted me cordially and bade me sit until my name was called. I always sat in the the chair right nearest to the large bowl of hard candy that seemed always to be full -- lots of peppermint and fruit variety, a very cheery addition to the room. This was the waiting room at my oncologist's chemotherapy clinic, where I went for treatment once every three weeks. Yes. This was where I fueled up on hope!

Different people have differing opinions about chemotherapy. In reality, it is poison that kills fast growing cells in your body. So, yes. It does harm to your body. And a lot of cancer patients and survivors resent that -- as well they should. The immediate side effects alone are enough to banish this treatment to hell and back. BUT, it IS a necessary evil, isn't it?

Perhaps I'm crazy to say this, but I deemed Carbolplatin and Taxol as healing infusions. I absolutely looked forward to chemo every three weeks because I believed that with every IV infusion, more cancer cells were being killed by the chemotherapy. So, what if my liver suffered, or my hair fell out, or I was fatigued, or I was bleeding incessantly after treatment? I sat in those chemo chairs always with anticipation and with a smile. "Give me chemo, please!" was the look on my face. I never thought those IV's were poison at all. I thought of them as medicine that will make me better. Chemotherapy gave me hope -- enough hope to weather the nausea, fevers, headaches and everything else in between. And no matter if it was poison for other cells in my body, I didn't dwell on that. I was just always glad to have the infusion. It's the pragmatist in me.

Whatever I needed to get rid of those cancer cells was all well and GOOD -- not poison! "Dwell on the good it is doing, rather than the damage it is wreaking," I told myself. Because the little energy I had was better spent on "accentuating the positive" as the old song said. And because of that, chemo served as hope rather than poison. I believe that attitude helped immensely in my bout with cancer. Hope comes in all shapes and sizes. Mine just happened to be in the form of Carbo-Taxol chemotherapy.


So, here's to hope, where ever and however you may find it! Hang on to it and reach for the sky!

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We'd never know how high we are till we are called to rise; and then, if we are true to plan, our statures touch the sky. ~ Emily Dickinson

The Chaplain

Faith in the Divine runs through my veins. I couldn't imagine my life without faith.

I was born and raised Catholic -- "old skool" Catholic -- although I had never been confirmed (a regret my mother carries to this day). My education is Catholic. I even once wanted to be a nun. But as I grew older, I dabbled a bit in mystic eastern religions due to curiosity. And that was quickly quashed by my very devoutly Catholic mother. In youth, I was a bona-fide born-again Christian, complete with a dream of one day preaching at the pulpit. I even have a degree in Judeo-Christian Theology. In later years, my eyes opened to other religions such as Buddhism, Hinduism and other polytheistic religions, as well as the goddess-based religions. My only regret is I know so little about Islam.

As I learned more about other faiths, I came to the conclusion that the God that I grew up with is also the God of the Buddhists, the Muslims, and the Shinto, and even the polytheists. God is God. It's just that people are different and well, because of that, they will worship and idealize differently. But the Divine is constant. Therefore, I respect other people's faith, no matter what canon. Your God is my God, so long as your god is not the god of oppression, or enslavement, or pain and suffering. It's all good. "One love," as Bob Marley sang.

Having said that, what always puts me on the defensive is when people force their beliefs on me; or imply that my beliefs are wrong. I believe that faith is a personal matter. And unless someone asks me, I don't impose my beliefs on anyone else. So, I think it's fair to expect that of others as well. "Live and let live."

The Chaplain knew none this when he paid me a visit at the hospital, poor thing. After asking about my well-being and listening to my story about the last couple of days at the hospital, he asked me if I believed in Jesus Christ. I said I was a huge fan. (I know, I know, that was unfair). Undeterred, the Chaplain tried another angle. He asked whether I believed in God. I honestly answered that I believed in many gods. "Many gods?" he repeated. "Yes. I'm a pantheist," I answered, with a smirk. Admittedly, I had hoped that with that response, he would leave me be. I know it wasn't the most courteous of answers. But it was a true answer. The delivery might just have been a little too curt. And for that, I was sorry.

It's just that the good Chaplain had me on the defensive, when he barraged me with his questions. When I calmed down I knew that he was just doing his his calling; that he meant well. He also believed that it would do me a world of good if I believed in Jesus Christ(as my Lord and Savior) and unburdened my troubles to Him in prayer (I know. I used to do what he did). And because he truly believed that, he was relentless in his conversion efforts, even though I tried to explain repeatedly that I appreciated what he was doing and offering, but "Thank you. No"

Bad form. I know. But you see, at that point, I was really angry at God. Angry! I was feeling very sorry for myself. And the last thing I wanted to do was to be in supplication and praise God to help me. What I really wanted to do was to scream at the heavens and ask why. Why me??? I didn't want to beg for anything nor promote goodwill amongst men. I wanted someone to give me an answer. Short of that, I wasn't participating in anything or turning my life over to anyone. I was at war with God and the Chaplain was caught in the cross-fire.

Here's the thing. I believe! With my whole being, I believe. But just because I believe does not mean I couldn't question or be angry. I am human. I have feelings. I also have the capacity to reason and question. So really, I don't think God took issue with my anger or my question. We were given the capacity to reason and feel, after all. And I don't think prayer would have helped me at that time. Certainly, I couldn't pretend that I wasn't angry or in despair. It's futile to lie to yourself or lie to God. I had to feel those feelings first before I surrendered to my fate or made peace with God(as I did later on). The Chaplain's prayer request was a bit premature at the time. So, I thanked him very much for the visit and bade him "good-bye." He left.

To my surprise, he was back the next day. Per usual, he asked how I was and I told him. Then, with a big smile in his face, he asked "do you still believe in your many gods?" I laughed. I had had time to cool-off and think since he saw me the day before. So I clarified what I meant and apologized for being defensive and curt with him. But I also asked very politely that he respect my beliefs inasmuch as I respected his. He nodded and took my hands. "Don't worry, we're not going to pray. I just want to tell you this," he said

"You see, what you are about to go through is like a boxing match. You and cancer are the boxers in the ring. You can have as many people in the audience cheering you on. You can even have your manager (who can be our care-givers and such) and other advisers on the side of the ring to go to for strength and advice. But in the end, it's about you and the cancer boxing in the ring. So you fight that cancer! Fight it as hard as you can. Because you're the only one who can. Okay?"

He had me in tears. That day, the Chaplain did accomplish his mission to help. Instead of imposing "his" God to me, he spoke of the God within us.

I'm grateful to the Chaplain's for this very empowering advice that helped fuel my bout with cancer last year. It's amazing what happens when we open our hearts.

Blessings!

Caveats aka "The Fine Print"

Hi. First, let's get some things out in the open. Dry, I know. But, at least it's not in "fine print." I'm just trying to manage expectations. This is about as stuffy and rigid as I'll get. I promise. Here goes:

• I'm not a cancer expert
• I'm here only to relay my cancer experience
• This is not a cancer resource blog
• Although resources I've found useful will be linked from time to time
• This is not sanctioned by any cancer organization or group. I'm on my own
• Therefore, my opinions and conclusions are my own
• If I say anything to offend your religious beliefs, I apologize. It does not come from a place of malice. I respect all faiths. But I will say what needs to be said.
• I'm aware that there are many who have preceded me in this endeavor. My respect to them.
• Therefore, I don't claim that what I say here is the end-all/be-all of how to live with cancer. I'm just sharing mine
• This is my virgin voyage to the blogosphere, so please allow me my rookie mistakes
• Lastly...this is from the heart

For an an intensely private person, this jump into the blogsphere was a scary, painful and daunting decision to make. Thanks to the very strong support and encouragement of loved ones, I am here. Because, in the end, what prevailed was my nagging desire to help (and connect with) others who may be similarly situated. I do believe that there is a reason for everything. Otherwise, I'd go insane. Perhaps this is the reason. We'll find out. This will be a learning experience for me as well. Hopefully, you'll find something helpful here too -- whatever it is.

With no apologies, I will protect the identities of those who are in my life, going through this journey with me. They will only be referred to by "initials and veiled references." But fret not. I believe that the story can be told without such details.

So......grab your towel and let's go....

...oh...

.......and don't panic.... ;-)