LAST TREATMENT

   It’s over.  I am done.  After your last radiation treatment, there is a bell you can ring that is in the waiting room.  I told the valet's and one man that had been guiding patients wherever they needed to go that this was my last day.  He is a "redcoat" and we got to know one another over the course of six weeks.  His name is John and he said he would come down for the bell ringing.  After treatment, I got dressed and the two wonderful technicians that did most of my treatments came out.  Lisa and Dan.  They are so young and yet so aware of how delicate the situation is. John came down.  They gave me this to read aloud. 

       Surrounded here by family and friends,

       One Journey has ended, another begins,

       I ring this bell for treatments ended,

       I ring this bell for wounds now mended.

       For those who listen, my story I tell,

       I celebrate life by ringing this bell.

  I banged that sucker hard. 

   So many friends have taken me to appointments to see doctors and Paul, my housemate/landlord took me to two radiation treatments as well as different doctor appointments.  I had many offers from people to take me, but I was doing so well, I didn’t think I needed anyone around. I forgot about the emotional part.  If I were to do this again, I would have asked someone to come with me for this last day.  I could not hold back the tears.  Lisa cried as well.  I didn't imagine it would be so hard.  I truly missed my mother at that moment, and sort of felt the bell ringing was a shout out for both my parents who died of cancer.  Once again, letting them know I’d be ok.  I had to see the doctor afterwards.  The doctor is in a different building but easy to get to.  He checked the skin and I am burned, but I am fine.  A little sunburn is expected.  Some people have much more severe side effects.  They say I got away easy.  The elevators were not working, so I took the stairs, came out a different door, and walked a block to get my car.  It was so beautiful outside.  A delicious breeze and the sun was out.  I gave as many valets that I saw, a small tip to say thank you for all they have done.  They were so gracious.  They wished me luck and with that, I left.

 

TWO MORE

    I would think I’d be happy about no more radiation treatments.  I thought I would be thrilled.  But I’m not.  I am depressed.  I will miss my friends at the Cleveland Clinic.  Not only the professionals, but the redcoats that guide you wherever you need to go.  And the people I met while in the waiting room.  One couple is from England.  The wife is so sweet and she looks so scared.  And of course, the valet parking men.  I feel like I will just go back to my old ways.  The old eating habits, the old “not always exercising” habits.  And the worst, not looking for work in a more proactive way.  I do work when I can, but I have made a mess of things that way.  The jobs I have gotten in the last several years have taken it out of me physically or emotionally, and I either get fired or I quit.   I never took the real risks to get the “stuff” I want.  Too scared.  I am ashamed to be so old and so immature.  There are some real health issues that I deal with on a day to day basis, and I’m not talking about cancer.  And that makes working very difficult.  When I was diagnosed in December with cancer, I called a friend and through my sobbing I said, “I just need a break!”  She said, “You got a break Chris!  You got to walk after being paralyzed!”  I know she’s right, but today I don’t feel very good about me or my life.  One more treatment after today. Wish me luck.

STUFF

   Before I moved, I took two years and purged so many things.  My friend Linda helped a great deal.  (I also paid her to clean and do laundry)   First, she took things to a women's shelter.  Then later, she met a lady that sold whatever she found out of her van to make money.  The lady was young and on disability and this was a little supplement money.  Linda said she met her when she saw her waiting on the side of the road and needed gas for her van.  And Linda being Linda, stopped and helped her.  So much of what I gave away went to this woman.  I am sure I could have made a few bucks had I sold things, but I was too tired to worry about that.  It's good to know someone is being helped by my recycling.  Since my energy is so limited, I don't want more "stuff" to clean or think about.  It's easier for me.  But it does something else.  It frees up my mind.  It calms me down.  When my friend Angie was helping me pack, she looked down at a box of glasses and suggested I ask myself if I really wanted them.  I didn't.  If I had my druthers, I would have even less. Linda kept saying, "You're making room for something new."  I did.  A new home.  After I gave Linda the last of everything I could, I realized I gave something away that my mother gave me and I wanted it back.  Linda suggested to call this young lady.  I didn't.  I was heartbroken for a few hours, and then it simply passed.  When I gave Linda my mother's spaghetti bowl, I cried about that too.  It wasn't the original one from when I was a kid, but I still cried.  Then the crying just stopped and I felt fine.  I don't need kitchen utensils at this new place.  So many things were sold or given away to cousins after my mother and father died. Everyone was so appreciative of it all and wanted something to remind them of my mother.  They loved their Aunt Eva.  My friend Lona took a huge and cumbersome hall tree to our friend Jan.  Jan had the perfect place for it.  I got scared that one of my brothers wanted it.  They didn't.  In fact my brother Joe said, "Oh how great someone you know gets it and can use it!"I still have things from my parents. Things with great meaning.  Last week, my cousin Joyce asked if I wanted the love seat and chair that was once my mother's.  It never ends. 

JOE

     I am more than halfway through my treatments.  It was so much easier this week than last week.   Maybe I am just used to it, who knows.  I made it to yoga this week.  The doctor says the lightheaded feeling I get has nothing to do with the radiation.  He said that maybe I am just nervous.  Could be.  I am nervous.  I am nervous and excited about it being over. The young people doing my treatments are so kind.  I keep doing my silent affirmation.  "Every hand that touches me is a healing hand."  I am however, falling in love with the men that park my car.  I have conversations with Joe alot.  He is from the Philippines.  He has only been in this country for three years.  He is fifty, but looks thirty.  He told me he loves this country, and his wife is a nurse at the Cleveland Clinic.  While he talks, he pays very close attention at the people coming and going.  He runs everywhere.  Yesterday, he ran to help a woman who was on the ground.  She was getting into the passenger side of a car, and got out of her wheelchair and fell.  Joe ran to help as well as others.  They finally got her in.  One man, another valet, talks to me and asks how my treatment went.  When I give him a tiny tip for bringing my car to me, he is so gracious in accepting it.  Like I gave him a fifty.  One man talks about the weather and said yesterday, "I am complaining now, but in January, I will miss this heat."  Cleveland weather.  It's either winter or summer.  Joe told me that he sends money to his grandmother in the Philippines every month.  He said he understands we have healthcare issues in this country and financial issues, but it is so much better here than in his country.  He told me he has four children.  "I told my wife.  I will work any job to support my family."  I see so many patients come and go and I asked Joe about all he sees.  I see some people bald from chemo and some unable to hold their heads up while being wheeled to and from their cars.  I see so much.  I am so lucky that all I am having is a two minute session and I am done.  I'm not throwing up.  I'm not exhausted.  I walk out.  I eat my graham crackers to stay grounded, and I go home.  Easy.  My heart hurts for others.  Whenever Joe talks to me he touches my arm very lightly.  "Every hand that touches me is a healing hand."  That includes the valet.

THANK YOU

      I had a dream this morning right before I woke up that my old landlord found so many things in my apartment that were not cleaned or thrown out.  There was a potato that grew to be about eight pounds! It looked like a baby.  I was so happy to wake up in my double bed in my new home.  I never had a double bed my whole life.  My last place was quaint and cute and in the beginning, it was fine.  Plus, the added bonus of my cousin living downstairs, who I adore.  But as time went on, the rent got higher, my cousin moved out, and the place was sold a few times. This last landlord, who has owned the place for nine years, refused to do much, such as paint it.  Or change the carpeting that looked like it had been there since the seventies.  My favorite experience with him was when an outlet piece was coming out of the wall, and I told him.  So, he wadded up a paper towel, and wedged it between the outlet and the wall to keep it secure.  That was it.  That's how he fixed it.  When I showed him last year an area in the living room where the plaster was falling out of the wall, he said, "I'll get to that this summer."  So far, nothing.  A few years ago, he came into my bathroom when I wasn't home and there was water on the bathroom floor.  Not a lot.  Just a small amount from when I stepped out of the tub that morning.  He was so upset and said I must be leaving the bathtub running, and walk away letting the tub overflow.  I don't know what he was talking about.  The floor in the kitchen was crumbling and I do mean crumbling. Pieces were breaking off especially around the refrigerator. When I woke up this morning, I had such gratitude that I was out of there.  I giggle with delight when I see my living room with a new couch that people left here.  I marveled at the a kitchen, complete with a a built in oven, when I made banana bread the other night.  Yesterday, my landlord/roommate said, "Next week we'll get a board made to put under your mattress to make it firmer."  What I'm saying is, he GAVE me this beautiful bed and since I sink into the mattress, he's fixing it to make it firmer for me. The feeling I have is gratitude.  It's the same gratitude I had when I came home from the hospital, and knew I would walk again.  It's freedom.  I sat on the deck this morning thinking what a perfect place this is to heal.  When I drive out of his beautiful driveway and see his neighborhood, I look in the rear-view mirror and catch myself smiling..
Somebody pinch me.

DAY 2

   I will be doing my third day of radiation tomorrow.  I was so exhausted and "spacey", after the first one and the second, I did much better.  I am repeatedly amazed at the compassion of others.  Have I said this before?  I am repeatedly amazed at the compassion of others.  And I am repeatedly outraged at the stupidity of others.  Ya.  With me, your damned if you do and damned if you don't.  I get to the Cleveland Clinic, and it takes two minutes for the treatment and then I come out and the valet parking took way too long.  After fifteen minutes, I ask the girl what the problem is.  Others that came out after me have their cars and drive away,  She is as confused as I am and asks the "men" parking cars what the problem is.  I calm myself down by doing my gratitude's.  That's all I do when I get scared.  And I have gotten scared alot.  "I am grateful my parents aren't around to be upset over this."  That's a biggie.  As much as I miss my parents, the parking of cars threw my father into a rage.  Could that be where I get this attitude?  Nah... not me... And he hated the responsibility of driving places.  I am grateful I can walk.  I am grateful I can take myself to these treatments.  I am grateful I HAVE a car.  Ya.  That's a biggie too.  As I say these gratitude's I see my car.  Works every time.  I breathe as deeply as I can and get my ass home safe and sound.  Not to my old apartment, but to an air conditioned beautiful home.  I just moved here with a friend.  He charges a very reasonable rent for such a beautiful home.  It has one of those circular driveways and I park right in front of the door.  Did I mention I am repeatedly amazed at the compassion of others?

INDEPENDENCE DAY

  So now I have moved.  I have moved to one of the prettiest suburbs in Cleveland. I was having afternoon tea and the maid brought out my usual finger sandwiches. As I was eating, a bug flew by and I said, "THEY HAVE FLIES IN CHAGRIN FALLS?!!  I THOUGHT THESE PEOPLE HAD MONEY!!!!!" 
  It is overwhelming to move here from a building where I didn't have water if someone in another apartment was taking a shower, and then to move to a home where the kitchen is 5 times as big as my old kitchen.  I am beyond grateful.  It is lovely here.   I just need a better wardrobe.