24 Steps

No, it's not just an amalgam of two twelve-step groups.  It's the nine steep steps from the street to the stoop, and another fifteen from the inside front hallway to the landing outside my apartment door.  24 steps from going home.  Not to mention the steps from the first floor of the Parish House to my second floor office, or the steps from the chancel up into the high pulpit in the Meetinghouse.  24 steps I'm going to have to learn how to climb all over again, literally one step at a time.  It's not going to be easy.  But at least it's a simple, straightforward goal.

The last couple of days with the Occupational Therapist have been very much oriented around getting me geared up for going back out into the world again.  Been practicing with a couple of different style walkers, and just was transfered to a newer, more narrow wheelchair that will fit more easily through the door to my study at the Eastland Hotel.  

Lots of Physical Therapy too -- the best of which is something called "E-Stim" (for electrical stimulation) which basically involves me lying on my side with electrodes taped to my tuckus while eating chocolate for 15 minutes.  But they've also got me doing a pretty standard assortment of more traditional exercises to strengthen both my arms and my legs.  

Still working on the pain control regimen as well.  It's always worst first thing in the morning, and of course at the end of a long day.  I often feel as though I'm operating in a very narrow band between pain I can tolerate easily and the ability to hold a coherent thought in my head.  But the nice thing about writing is that at least I can always go back and make sure it makes sense.  Hmmmm... narcotics...

Hosted a very good church meeting here last night -- sort of a "summit" of leaders from various constituencies within the congregation, who I'm hoping will put their heads together to create a more permanent Finance Council, and help guide us through this transition to a new Treasurer and a spring Stewardship Campaign.  When I looked around the table and saw all of the wisdom and experience and expertise gathered there, I felt very optimistic about the future of First Parish  -- both in terms of its potential for numerical growth, and also its ability to serve the larger Portland community in a truly significant and meaningful way.  I know it may sound silly, but the challenge of making all these things happen is one of my biggest inspirations for being restored to health and getting back to work again.  

Those plans are still a little up in the air, but as I understand them now I'm looking at another week or so here in Rehab, followed by discharge to an Assisted/Independent Living Facility back on the Peninsula, where I will stay while starting to receive my chemotherapy.  The chemo is scheduled for approximately 18 weeks, with an assessment in the sixth week at the end of the second cycle.  Depending upon how well that goes, at some point I may be moving into my study at the Eastland, or in to an accessible guest room in the home of one of my parishioners.  My lease on Carleton Street is up at the end of July, at which point I'm going to have to decide whether to stay there or find another place.  In the meantime, I'll use that place to house my out-of-town houseguests, and maybe to practice a little stairclimbing.  God Willing and with little luck, I'll be back in my pulpit in September.