Preached last Sunday the first half of the concluding two-part message of the five-sermon series on "UU-DNA" that I've been preaching all winter, and if that sounds unnecessarily complicated, it's probably because it is. In any event, here is the link to "Mr Jefferson's Prophecy" which I will complete in a couple of weeks with a sermon on "Mr Jefferson's Legacy." Which reminds me -- if you're starting to feel like I'm not posting often enough here, you might also try checking out some of the other blogs I write, all of which can be found by surfing the links on my "Profile" page.
Feels like my calendar is just jammed with medical appointments these days: saw my new PCP last week, who examined me from "nose to toes" -- first trying to help me out with my daily nosebleeds, and then working his way down to the skin on my back and legs, my spine, hips and knees, and ultimately my feet and toes. Ordered oxygen for me to use overnight (which should help my sleep apnea also), as well as a couple of ointments/lotions for my back and legs. Today I saw the podiatrist, tomorrow my new oral surgeon, Thursday is more Physical Therapy, plus a bone scan in the afternoon. Monday more chemo (my last session of this round) and then I'm clear for awhile, at least until the next CT Scan which will tell me how well the chemo worked.
That's the huge irony of this illness. The cancer itself is always a little abstract, like it lives at arm's length. I know I have it, I know it's serious, I know it can be "treated" but that it will never be "cured" -- a diagnostic reality which, by SSI regulation, automatically defines me as "permanently and totally disabled." Yet I also know that by surviving this first year my odds of surviving another five years have increased from less than one in twenty-five to about one in four (and intuitively I feel like they are probably a lot better than that!). But mostly it's a pretty simple reality: I know I have cancer, but it's not going to kill me today, and I'm pretty certain that it's not going to kill me tomorrow (or for that matter, next week). And that's good enough for me. I don't really need to live that much more out in front of myself anyway.
On the other hand, the physical infirmity that has been brought on by this disease, and by the side effects of my medications, really are something that I have to live with every day. And I'm starting to get tired of it! I want to walk again, and better yet, drive again; I want to be able to sail, and climb stairs...Lord, maybe even play a little basketball; I want back the INDEPENDENCE and the simple COMPETENCE I enjoyed before I got sick. Is that so much to ask? Hell, who do I ask anyway? -- it's just something that I have to take back for myself.
Around here I see these old guys in their 80's and 90's, limping around with their canes and their walkers and wincing with every step, and yet they are walking (and in many cases -- gulp -- still driving), but notwithstanding their questionable judgement, their persistence makes them an inspiration to me. And that's really all it takes. Desire. Willfulness. Persistence. Good old-fashions Mule-Headed Stubbornness. I WILL get to where I want to be. Walking, and under my own power.
About Me
- The Eclectic Cleric
- Portland, Maine, United States
- Born and raised in the Pacific Northwest, sailing summers in the San Juan Islands and warding off the gloominess of the incessant winter rains by reading voraciously and drinking more than my fair share of Seattle's Best espresso. Five (count 'em) college degrees, making me an honest-to-God Crimson Dawg Duck Beaver Viking. Have served Unitarian Universalist congregations in both Midland Texas and on Nantucket Island (which made the 2004 election VERY interesting), as well as numerous other smaller UU fellowships along the I-5 corridor in Washington and Oregon. More recently, I relocated from the affluent faux rural suburbs of "the Neighborhood of Boston" (just beyond the Old North Bridge and through the woods, about five miles from the site of Thoreau's cabin at Walden Pond), to the bustling shores of Casco Bay at the southern edge of "Down East." But my ministry at the First Parish in Portland ME was cut short by a diagnosis of Lung Cancer in February, 2008. I currently live outside of Sacramento CA, retired with a permanent and total medical disability, as I battle with my disease and continue to ponder what God has in store for me next.
4 comments:
Tim, you sound great----determined and doing what you need to do to stay on track. Thanks for modeling how to do it. Your journey with cancer puts mine with a bad cold into perspective.
Anyhow, Malcolm has put together a UUCWI history and I thought I'd send you a copy. There's a CD or a spiral bound book---which would you prefer?
I'll need your snail mail address but would love to give you this gift from your past.
Let's hear it for bullheadedness, Tim, it does come in handy sometimes. Cheers from Bellevue -- Ann B
Ms Kitty asks if you want a CD or a book. Has she seen your library? You'd better take good care of yourself and be determined to maximize your mobility and energy -- it's going to take you some serious time to get your library in order and we are all waiting to see you enjoy that.
Lots of love!
MFW
Okay, I haven't heard back from you with an address, so I looked up your church and will mail out a CD to you tomorrow.
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