When your Monday resembles a Waylon Jennings song…
On a big vinyl chair, l’m sitting this cold morning,
Nurse is taking my blood without much warning.
They are runnin’ my labs, and checkin’ things out.
Makin’ sure white blood cells are movin’ about.
Lord, I’m feeling wild, wonky, and weak.
I’ve wrapped up another five days of constant chemo. It’s pretty odd having a wheezing juice box hooked up to you for that long. It’s pretty heavy when I first get it, but slowly it gets lighter and lighter as the life giving poison oozes into my bloodstream, until it’s empty and it’s time for a quick pit stop/refill.
Hard walks are better when you are wearing fun socks.
Sometimes right after chemo I practice an extreme form of pest control by sitting in the backyard and daring mosquitoes to bite me.
Right now, it feels like I have a wool sweater on my tongue. That is going to make my coffee fun this morning…I’m still having coffee.
I took ten pills yesterday. I shouldn’t complain, I know people who take more. But, it makes me yearn for the days when I just took one pill and it was shaped like Fred Flintstone.
I’m a tired little cowboy! When I’m on the steroids, I basically just take quick power naps between going to pee every thirty minutes.
When I do sleep I have weird dreams. One night all of my dreams were like graphic novels, they were dark and apocalyptic. I was being chased by zombie gummy bears…it was disturbing!
My head weighs as much as a small foreign made car, or at least it feels like it.
Anything that is crafted with love, whether it’s a woven stocking hat or a molasses cookie, can bring healing.
This week I found myself sitting in an infusion room between a 84 year old and a 25 year old. I’m reminded that pain does not discriminate.
I’m also reminded that in some rooms, “WHY?” is the worst question you can ask, and the only answer is because this sometimes happens to humans and you are a human.
Life is a series of trust falls. You take your place, hold your breath and fall backwards, hoping, with all your guts, that someone is going to catch you.
I find myself caught in the strong arms of love.
My wife is beautiful.
The Holy Spirit is cool.
I’m sitting here in my big comfy chair listening to the soft rhythm of my infusion pump.
As it pushes the delightful chemo cocktail into my body, it makes an almost reassuring noise that sounds like “kuusshhh”. Occasionally it makes a little beeping noise that lets me know that it’s almost time to go to the doctor’s office to get a refill.
I’m ready.
I’m wearing some happy green socks with Gumby and Pokey on them.
Why in the world would a 53 year old man be wearing Gumby socks?!
Because, I’m a fan of fun.
I’m also a fan of Gumby.
I grew up watching it.
I learned things from my green pal that are guiding me now…
It’s good to be flexible.
Sometimes life is sweet, sometimes it is sour.
It pulls you in all sorts of directions. If you aren’t flexible, you can break.
Friends are vital.
No one escapes from the blockheads alone. We need friends, faithful companions to join us on the journey. Your best friend might not be an talking orange horse, but you need somebody!
Friends make each other better.
I’ve learned that friends can help carry your burdens.
Sometimes life is stop-motion
You can’t be in constant motion, you’ve got to stop and rest. It might look or feel a little herky-jerky or awkward, but that’s okay.
Stop…blink…breathe.
Anne Lamont puts it like this: “Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.”
Sometimes you need to get reanimated.
My pal Gumby has made several comebacks since 1953, remember the Eddie Murphy version?
He even became the mascot of a college town pizza shop, if you’ve never had Pokey stix you are missing out on a culinary delight!
and now he finds himself on my socks.
We all need to be reanimated.
We all need refills.
Because we leak.
That is why, this morning, before my chemo pump gets refilled, I got flexible in my faith.
I stopped moving, and I took the time to talk to my very vital friend, the Holy Spirit, and I asked Him to refill and reanimate me.
And He did.
And then I asked Him to come out and play.
Because I am a fan of fun.
And, He invented it.
From the beginning, fun was meant to heal.
So, I’m going to get my chemo cocktail refilled, but I’m going to enjoy some holy mischief while I do it.
I’m learning again to look up.
it’s wide opener there!
Looking up changes everything!
Today I find joy in the most everyday places…
in a cool morning! It’s FINALLY Fall!! I’m ready to break out the sweatshirts and warm beverages!!
What makes me valuable is NOT where I’m from, or who I’m with.
AHOY!!
We heard from the doctor first thing this morning (which is a miracle in itself, we were ready to impatiently wait for a while!)
carbonated joy 