Tag Archives: cancer

Going The Distance

9 Mar

Do you know what going the distance truly means?  It means, making it through (what ever “through” happens to be) when the adrenaline spike is no longer assisting your stamina.  It means, remaining joyful when the dopamine and serotonin levels in the brain have dropped as a result of the biological crisis mode switching to off.  It means, not just finishing the race (life), but living in such a way that you know finishing is happening.  Which in essence is, the ability to make it through the “normals”.

Was that too abstract a thought for anyone to follow?  I apologize if the answer to my question is “yes”.  But for me, tonight, I feel the pains of “going the distance.”  And tonight, “the pain”  happens to be, the practice of flushing out the thoughts of doubt that are trying to creep into my head.  That are trying to cause me to give up, that are lying to me by way of manipulative, passive aggressive tactic.  The reason I feel pain is that my emergency strength, otherwise known as adrenaline, has called it quits for the day.  So I am left to my own “normal” ability to recall lessons learned, and left to my own “normal” desire to remain fixated on past encouragements rooted in truth.  I am also having to–key phrase here–put into practice what I know to be true and right…even when I want to walk away and bury my head in the sand.  All of which take a level of commitment I’m sometimes unsure I naturally posses.  You see, “going the distance” has somewhat of an athletic team-like connotation.  I was a dancer, not a sportsman(woman).  I understand hard workouts and focused practices, but not distance.  Our routines were, at most, 10 minute increments–maybe fifteen.  I played singles tennis…never doubles.  It was fast paced achievement or hard earned defeat, never distance.  Thus I can assure you, I feel pain when pushing forward, pressing on toward the goal, and keeping my eye fixed on the prize.

So tonight, I am going the distance.  And where ever you are, and whatever your “through” happens to be, I hope you will, along with my tired self, go the distance too.

…thank you for listening (or reading really).

Part III-Cole

14 Dec

Most mornings run the same for me…wake up, make coffee, make breakfast, say goodbye to Esther who now drives herself to school, and then enjoy the relief that comes from what I call ‘my morning constitutional’ (which of course is a natural bodily function and not a walk around the block).  Now in my fantasy world, I like to believe that my morning constitutional is a private affair–meaning that my family members know and respect that the time in the bathroom is sacred and should not be interrupted.  But as most moms know, once you cross the threshold of motherhood, boundaries such as privacy while on the latrine become obsolete.  So yesterday morning, while in my fantastical privacy-land, I heard footsteps approaching my bathroom door.  Next I heard the voice of my adult son and this is what he said, “Mom, as Esther was leaving this morning she said something funny and I smirked.”

“How did Cole progress while in his second week of acupuncture therapy?”, you ask…well, he smirked!  While writing this phenomenal action I feel the same type of bondage I felt yesterday morning when he spoke it through the door; for this type of NEWS should be shouted and celebrated.  We should gather hands and in a circle, do a dance of some sort, while chanting “he smirked, he smirked” over and over again.  And just like yesterday morning, when I was bound to the porcelain by certain sanitary requirements and could not immediately jump up and give my son a hug, I am bound, through this post, to only relay the words as he spoke them without the attachment of his nor my enthusiasm.  Such is the life in prose!

So let me break it down for you in the simplest, yet the most magnificent of terms…Cole’s cranial nerves are discovering new pathways of communication.  And it is through the marvelous therapeutic approach of Dr. Zhu and Dr. Moyee that this is happening!  We are beyond excited because once the nerves discover a new pathway, the communication will just continue to grow and strengthen.  Thus, while here at home, Cole is continuing the intensive eye and face exercises that he learned up north.  And on Thursday (of this week) we will follow up with Dr. Jing Li the acupuncturist here in Irvine who originally referred us to Dr. Zhu.

Other improvements noted in a weeks time:

  • Improved balance, such as, in beginning of week Cole couldn’t ride the stationary bike without holding onto something,  by Friday he needed nothing for support.
  • Better control of left eye lateral movement.
  • Right eye becoming more centered.
  • Double vision decreasing, meaning, the two objects are moving closer together.
  • The distance from his face that a given object remains one, is further out than in beginning of week.
  • Eye lid closure nearly 100%.
  • Increased moisture in the eyes, which means decreased usage of eye drops (which used to be employed every half hour to an hour).
  • Nausea completely diminished.
  • Stomach acid over production decreasing.
  • Improved stamina and endurance.

And with yesterday’s news I can add to the list that Cole is feeling muscle twitching and movement in his face.  The smile he so longs to have is not far from reach…EXCITING STUFF!!!  In addition to this treasure trove of good news, today we received the hard-copy book of the ‘CarePages’ material (I had ordered it a couple of weeks ago).  All Brian and I could do was sigh when looking at the first page.  It has been quite a year and Cole has come so very far!

Next up, Cole has his follow up MRI’s this coming Saturday morning.  And just to irritate me, I am feeling quite emotional.  What you don’t know is that my emotional sensitivity was tripped off last week when Cole and I decided to watch, what we thought would be a hilarious movie, called 50/50.  We knew going into it that it was centered around a young man who discovers he has a malignant tumor in his spine.  And though the movie promoted itself to lean more toward the humor involved in the cancer scenario, there is just no getting around the gravity of the life changing situation.  Turns out it was a little too soon for the both of us to take in.  Now the carepages book has arrived, and well, I’m all messed up!  Aaaahhhh, but this is Part III-Cole, so never you mind about me.  Cole is doing just fine.  PRAISE THE LORD!!! (and pass the ammunition–just kidding) 😉

Hemorrhoids

22 Nov

I am sitting here at my home computer.  Yes, home.  Cole and I have returned safely.  And although Piper went for an accidental swim one night in our absence, and though I had to rush Buddy (our little chihuahua/terrier) to the Vet Clinic last night because Piper saw fit to take a bite out of his neck and ear, for the most part the house is in order.  So here I sit in luxury with a portable heater to keep my feet and exposed ankles warm, coupled with ‘Rachmaninoff fan radio’ streaming from Pandora’s box.  Brian is in his 7p.m. position on the couch (eyes closed), Cole is finishing his dinner, and Esther is off yonder-armed with a new driver’s license and a willing accomplice…her vehicle.  And today I have decided it would be a blatant injustice to not return Cole to San Jose for another week of intensified treatment.  Brian agrees.  Cole is on the fence–for two reasons only.

  1. He doesn’t want to be away from Piper for another week.
  2. The treatment is a lot of work, and it’s exhausting.

I guess the treatment, for Cole, is akin to having hemorrhoids post childbirth.  After birth, you have in your life a new bundle of joy, with hopes and promises for the future.  Yet the whole process of bearing-down has left you with a sore anal sphincter.  But does the memory of the pain override your biological nature, and keep you from further pro-creation?  Of course not–at least not from the act of trying! 🙂  I know, I know…Cole wouldn’t describe his comprehensive acupuncture treatment using the same metaphorical approach as I have, but I’m sure the women reading this will get it!

The photos I am including in this post showcase more of the facility, as well as Dr. Moyee working alongside Cole by massaging and exercising the muscles in his face and eyes that have lay dormant these past 8 months.  The fact that they are waking up and showing signs of new life are so exciting!  He can feel his face, he can feel his foot, he can move his eye balls left and almost right.  I cannot ignore this renaissance!!  Nor can Brian (and in truth, nor can Cole).  Even his physical therapist today said she noticed an improved coordination on his left side–the side effected by his stroke incident!  There is also a photo of Dr. Moyee guiding Cole on his balance and gait.  To not return to the same intensive, hands on, comprehensive care, I feel would NOT be a prudent decision.  …one more week, Cole, one more week!

The photo of the ‘Oscar Mayer Wienermobile’ is just an added bonus–our prelude before the Grapevine.  It kind of reminds me of what an actual hemorrhoid looks like, so its placement here is appropriate, though the reasoning not so much…  What can I say, things in life seem to always point me toward some kind of hole! 🙂