%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |   My journey through (and beyond) the valley with Cancer as my companion. |
|
Dear Friend: This is not a Blog about writing! (I already have one of those.) This is a blog about a journey I am taking with illness. I have recently been diagnosed with Cancer. My goal is honest therapy as I progress through, and beyond this new reality in my life. I hope that, somewhere along the way you will find some words that will help you too. While this is, in fact, an interactive Blog, I hope that you will scroll slowly down this page. For you see, the front of this Blog IS my journey. The entries are conversations that are held along the journey.Yes, there is a lot on it--before actually getting to the Blog entries. But, I hope that by the objects and words which appear before the Blog itself, you might come to understand just a little bit about me, and my journey, and some truly amazing friends who have agreed to journey with me. I hope that you, too, will choose to accompany me on my walk--through the Valley. I invite you to join me, and discover the wondrous truths, meet some truly amazing people, and share those "memorable" moments this journey will undoubtedly present. Come along, won't you? In His Care, ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Would you like to help me help others? I found this amazing organization, and I am proud to be a sponsor. I hope you will check it out. It's called The Network For Good.  ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "RISUS OMNIA - INCRUMENTUS PER DEDECUS - SAPIENTIA PER DAMNUM" ("Every thing is funny - Growth through humiliation - Wisdom through loss") ~Leunig~ The hilltop hour would not be half so wonderful if there were no dark valleys to traverse. ~Helen Keller~ "If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people." ~Virginia Woolf~ ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "There is strength in truth." ~The Barton Family Crest~ ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** “Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved.” — Helen Keller, American social activist, public speaker and author (1880-1968) I have moved the list of my thanks for those who have helped to make this little Blog so very special. I hope that you will take a moment to read the list, growing every day, and let these fellow travellers along this journey know that you appreciate the contributions they make to our walk together.
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." James 1:2-4 ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Please feel free to click on the Blog Rings icon below to be transported to some of the very best of the Best Bloggers around WDC. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** If you are new to WDC, or to our Blogging community, I highly recommend the monthly edition of "The Blogville News". Feel free to click below, and let Scarlett   know that a Blogger sent ya!Hey! We've started a Christian's Blog Ring on WDC. Click on the logo, and join us! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Budroe
 Ring LeaderI have three publications at the moment. Here is a link to purchase my latest one. Buy a great read, and help a fellow writer out, Okay?  ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
Well, you know how it goes. I've got the idea, the concept, the view of an expected outcome. The box is built. Now to put the "stuff" into the box. *Crickets* Where did it all go? Working on creating the product is taking just a ton of time. I have the time, at least deadline-wise. I determine (most of) that. If Dad says "Go!", I will. This part of an "adventure" is the toughest, but the very best. It's Dad and I, walking together on a journey that will become an activity for His kids. Most will not know (but now will know) that, before presenting such an activity, long before I write it--I must first live it. I am inevitably the first participant in any journey that WDC members will see. When I tell you that an activity is going to be "tough", I generally know my audience well enough to be able to say this with a tad bit of authority. I, long ago, gave up trying to determine whether or not an activity, an adventure, or an encounter was "too tough" or "too hard" or "too..." anything!These don't come about by fancy, whim or chance friend. These writings are a reflection, a history of a part of my faith story. The reason you ever see, or participate in them is because of what I personally have experienced. You get to see the good parts, and occasionally you get to experience a few of the tough parts. But an adventure, or an encounter activity is usually a reduction of a much larger story. Every day of an adventure or encounter has multiple possible forking points. I must have the authenticity to allow each participant to experience what it is they need. Some of those points come from choices I have made on that same journey. I usually know where most of the forks will exist within the activity. Sometimes, I don't. Dad is by my side every step, or it is a step not taken. That gets to be a difficult reality sometimes. I do get a keen sense of when it is time to be still on these journeys through faith. I try to "institutionalize" them into the activity without institutionalizing the entire activity. That's where the writing "fun" comes in! Sometimes, I expect a certain reaction, result, or outcome at some definable point within an activity. Sometimes, that is an amazingly stupid thing to do. When a participant is compelled to be still at a point I hadn't programmed, there are two confirmations I get: 1. They truly ARE on the journey, working diligently, and 2. They are not alone. Dad is with them, and they are in relationship at that moment. Not only do I get confirmation that authenticity and legitimacy exist as a part of the work of the author of the activity (not me, I'm just the typist), but I get confirmation that it (the activity or part thereof) is being done as instructed. I just have to breathe deep at these first points, and be still. He will, in HIS time, instruct me. And He does. He comes to me. That is how I know that I know that you, too, can have just such a moment. The activities of the adventures and encounters are life-changing, authentically His, and yours. That is what this new "Encounter With Christ" is all about. That's when I have my own personal encounter with Christ. The excitement, joy and determination I have compel me to continue, In His Care, Budroe |
| I'm being reminded, in a rather exquisitely painful way, why I stopped writing so darn much on this site. It never seems to completely overcome me, but it often gets darned close. I know that I am not alone in this. You KNOW who you are. 1. Bare bones writing. Get the words down "on paper", as it were. Or, as it weren't if you are of that particular persuasion. 2. Begin to "dress up" the words. Links are always a good and easy start. 3. Links don't work. They used to. HEY! Who messed up my links?? What is an "x-link", anyway? 4. Links working. 5. Add an image for contrast and interest. 6. Links not visible. OH, NO! 7. Go through the entire portfolio tree to learn where the clash of permissions exists. Fix. Several steps, and shots of Bourbon may be required. 8. As if by magic, images appear when you use the {image:} tag. I used to know that. Oh, man. I'm getting old. What's your name again? 9. Begin word edit. Preachers, Lawyers and Teachers do (or at least should) be paid by the word. 9A. It doesn't have to be eternal to be immortal. Say it already! 10. Emphasize, italicize, neutralize this puppy! Brutal is best. The agony is short-lived. How did you get so committed to that word? Ere ye crazee? 11. (Should be #2 on list. Move to #2.) Save early. Save often. Okay, I think that's got it. I'll just save and chec...what do you MEAN site down for maintenance?? One hour's well-deserved break later... Okay, where was I? Oh, yeah, missed a curly brace. The whole danged thing is in italics. Find it. Fix it. Save it. Check it. Curly brace in wrong place, and visible besides. Find it. Fix it. Save it. Check it. Checks out. Upward and onward. 12. I find it imperative to edit as I type. I never said I was perfect at it. Word by honkin' word, already. Man, I write too long. One hour's work later... 13. Brace by brace, bracket by bracket, paren by paren. GET IT RIGHT, ALREADY. You're a WRITER, already! Write like it! Edit like it. (As many professionals withll immediately confess, being a writer and being and editor are two distinctly different professions as far away from each other as East is from West. Find an editor you can trust to fix your writing so that what you mean to say is said without all the salad! Hire them. Use them. Celebrate them. Sing their praises to the universe!) But, in the meantime.... 14. One static item written, formatted and edited. HUZZAH. Only 300 more to go, and this puppy's done! Curls up into fetal position. Cries for his Mommy! Next day, opens email from editor. Has melt down. Goes fishing. Never writes again. A note to editors everywhere, to a few generally and to one in particular: You may very well be the most valuable tool in my, or any other sorry, useless, impertinent, omniscient, omni-pain-in-th-rear writer's toolbox. I am eternally grateful for all that you do, and especially that you do for me as my writing journey continues. I apologize for being such a present, constant and complete jerk and humbly beg your forgiveness. To be fair, this writing thing is not now, nor has it ever been a particularly easy thing. We just keep trying to improve one publication or one chapter or one sentence or one word at a time. Even a blind squirrel finds the occasional nut. Sorry for you lot. You find too many. Take me, for instance. Please. |
| Yes, it has been a while. Yet, I do know myself well enough to recognize the muse when she appears. Not only has she shown up, but she is showing off by sitting on my head like she belongs there! For some months, my journalistic (and other) activities within the political realm have been (more or less) centered around an attempt to understand what is going on in the United States these days. That's a pretty broad brush, often with strokes beyond my visual range. Over the course of some months, I have whittled down, bit by bit that huge topic into more "chewable" bites. As is often the case when one does not pre-determine outcomes, but rather depends on skills of observation, etc., the smallest bite I could find shocked me. But, I do believe there IS an answer, it is completely understandable, and actionable. There really IS something we can do about it. But where that took me has me stunned still. I will, for now at least, simply say that it drove me to my knees. Yet it is an answer that ticks all the boxes, makes reasonable sense to anyone with even an average intellect (something I have rarely been accused of having), and can have a restorative plan. That got me excited, but not like having home made ice cream in your favorite flavor for desert. No, exited as in "I MUST write this down!" But, where? It didn't take more than a moment: here! So I have, I am, and I will. It is not an introductory, or basic explanation. It is much more spiritual than I ever imagined, so it will be written as a spiritual writing. I've written several Spiritual Adventures here for the WDC community, but this one requires a bit more. So, I'm writing it as a "next step", a more top-of-scale intermediate activity to add value to not only the adventures and adventurers, but to the WDC community-at-large. As is always the case, my writing is personal. It is a particular joy to share that writing here. Why? Because as you can see here clearly, sharing with others multiplies the joy, and diminishes the pain and sadness of life, of living, and even of leaving life. My writing matters first, but not only to me. I hope this writing will matter to you, as well. I do look forward to sharing it with you. The writing will serve as a "skeleton" for what will become an activity offered to the WDC community. Framing the activity (putting muscles, tendons, ligaments, and clothes on the skeleton)would be greatly enhanced by having several other folks as a team to create the activity. If you find that an interesting possibility, please email me and let me know. I could definitely use the help. :) I'll let you know how it goes. I hope you will let me know what YOU think of it, as well. I can only complete this rather significant writing assignment In His Care, Budroe |
| For bloggers especially, and writers generally, the first of anything is a landmark. Birthday over (officially the gayla festivities last through this coming Sunday because...well, just because they can. January 1 sees new diaries, calendars, journals, plans and dreams in their gestational periods. So are resolutions. I stopped making resolutions long ago. Instead I choose destinations and the journeys to lead me toward them. Sometimes I get there. Sometimes I don't, but rarely have I ever regretted the deviations I have made, for they have led to even better destinations, and new sights along the way. Yes, my destination this 2018 is a blog of blue. There is much to do, and I have committed to several projects this year that should make that destination at least possible...IF I choose to record the journey here. My wish for my friends along this journey is for a safe, well and happy 2018. I wish you the best health you can have. I wish for you the family and friends to sustain you on your journey, as you continually sustain me on mine. We have ushered many friends home this year as they have completed their journey through, and gathered beyond the valley. They have won their battles, and completed their journey well. They now rest safely on the other side. They await us there. When we feel the loss of a life lived well, it is a life worthy of celebration in our every wish, thought and dream. They have run the race, and we have run it with and (in some steps) for them. Yay, them! And, yes. Yay, us too. We do not turn our backs on them and relegate their memories to the rubbish heap. We gather them into our hearts, and take them each step of the journey we have remaining. We do that to give, hopefully, those memories to the loved ones when next we meet. We must do our very best to insure they are good memories. And we must live our lives, and take our steps worthy of those memories. We can do that, together. I pray we will in 2018. It is going to be, in many ways, a very difficult year along this journey. Many things will, I fear, happen even a bit faster than the speed of life. We must keep each other close, and protect the weak along the journey. It is not just our obligation, but our privilege. Step one is taken. May my journey, and yours, always remain, In His Care, Budroe |
| Is it returning, continuing, beginning again...again? I don't know. I have just been able to renew my membership here for a year. A bit longer than I usually renew, but I am feeling a bit more enthusiastic about the coming year, and want to share my thoughts here. Political thoughts? Surely. Thoughts of faith? Absolutely. Thoughts of this continuing journey through, and beyond the Valley? Undoubtedly. Reflections? Writings? Participation in the writing community which, above all others means the very most to me? Count upon it. This journey, and this journal shows by it's activities times (as recently) of quiet. Things have been going on. I've been doing some writing of a particular nature which I fear could cause bruised egos, confusion, or anger among some of my friends here. There is some cognitive dissonance for me around this truth. Does one write not to offend? Do I "hide" these writings from those who, as writers have supported my writing journey for these now many years? What's the deal, anyway? I think it could be simply "flinching before being struck", in some cases. Experience is, for the aware, a useful teacher. For those who have joined me on this journey, you know this blog was originally intended to be nothing more than a casual, honest conversation with myself as I traverse a very strange and unique journey through a land I thought and believed I knew--yet have come to learn that there is so very much yet to learn. What it became was such a wondrous gift as members of this site began to share their experiences, difficulties, fears and victories on their journey on this same path. I was, am, and will always be humbled by the life they have given this work. I know it has been, at best spotty. I hope this coming year to renew my commitment to myself to have that same honest conversation with myself, and the community which has built up around this blog. I love you. I have missed sharing my journey with you. I hope this coming year will help you along your journey. I know you will help me on my journey through, and beyond the Valley. Dad has not forgotten me, and He has not forgotten you. May we journey well together. In His Care, Budroe |
| This entry is, primarily, about faith generally and my faith specifically. I am a Christian, and my faith follows (more or less) traditional Christian tenets. If this offends you, please feel free to continue on your reading journey to other writers. I won't be offended, and who knows? We may even protect our friendship in the process--a good thing. This is also, insofar as it can be, an update on things medical. Many more questions at the moment than answers, but that is a part of the journey--and the process--too. It is high Summer where I live. I haven't seen a moment of fresh air in it. Out only for either visits to the white coats en masse or to individual white coats in their office, the Summer this year has not provided me with anticipated memories of childhood with their halcyon days of leisure and playfulness. That's why I call it High Summer: I am still hoping at least a few will meander into my mind and cause my heart to smile. I've been sick for a while now. I've been patient for a very long time, it seems. This year has not lessened either. (No, I'm not complaining, just explaining.) I haven't had the motivation I hoped to have. I have had to deal with strange affectations of my body upon myself and others, including said white coats who have spent most of this year in my world scratching their heads, or at least shaking them. I have said on many occasions that I can deal with anything I know; that it is the unknown, the unanswered question which I have great difficulty with. Questions abound these days, and accurate answers seem far, far away. It began with one of those "moments" where, at one breath I was relatively alright and the next in an amazing, intense pain in a place that I had not come to know pain. I have come to learn that this is how heart attack victims or stroke victims (at least those who survive them) feel at the onset of their difficulty. Having had each while under anesthesia, I have only dealt with the fallout of survival, not the onset events themselves. So for me, this was a bit of an interesting revelation. The pain I refer to originated in my chest...sort of. Actually, it was my extreme lowest left rib which suddenly felt as though it had somehow broken in two. But, simultaneous to that, a very deep, sharp pain began 'under' my left rib cage. I also got a sudden band of pain across my abdomen. Just to fill out the dance card, I got a simultaneous and extremely sharp pain in my, umm, right testicle which was the pain that made my breathing take a short holiday. Agonizing pain. Unrelenting pain. Star-creating pain. That very special "Owwie, DAMMIT!" kind of pain. In three weeks, having endured this increasing daily pain with no pain relief whatsoever, off to the white coats we went. (When a white coat tells you "Hello!" with a Morphine drip, that is a very nice "Hello!" indeed. One for which I will be eternally grateful, too. ) Within three weeks, and two subsequent visits to the ER and countless appointments in Clinics and offices, and no pain reduction at all (because, drug seekers you know, we don't give patients pain relief any more.) I have learned that while these symptoms are uniquely specific, they are possibilities of several causes. Trust me, I've been subjected to all of them! Right now, as the process of elimination and possible identification continues, I have been given a thirty day supply of some rather "interesting" pain relievers (in the nuclear option sort of way, that is) that should at least allow me to sleep for a couple hours at a time to escape, if not eliminate the pain. From Palsy to Pleurisy to chronic Pancreatitis (the current billboard topper), from testicular cancer to strangulated hernia to unidentified masses (2), and from ineffective drug manufacture to unknown genetic disposition to make Levothyroxin (post Thyroidectomy, don't ya know) completely ineffective in my system...I can tell you the pain may be white light intense, but it is not my largest problem at the moment. On this journey, it is the unseen that is the greatest danger, and the unknown which presents the greatest threat. I've got 'em in spades. Most of my days are involving sleep, or pain relief which induces sleep. This creates some very, very long nights in my world. Those long nights get, quite frankly, wearying. Ready? Here we go. What keeps you up at night, no matter when that night may come on your clock? Is it your job? Your children? Your marriage? Your future? Your past? What is it that makes your long nights so weary? Dreary? How tired of trying (and failing) to deal with them are you? I don't know about your answer, but I do know about mine. It isn't pretty, friend. Single Mom, trying to support and successfully raising the next generation? Hanging on to the J.O.B. for one more month? More month than money? Morbid sadness and grief over the loss of a loved one? The next step on this journey? Everyone has these long nights. Many have to endure more than others. Some are given the task of enduring more than most. Nobody wants to consider themselves, much less be considered by others as some kind of hero, or Martyr simply because of what this life requires us to deal with. We belly button kids just want to get about dealing, and moving forward. No matter what. (Lor-dee, there is a sermon series in this paragraph alone!) How does my faith (or yours) respond to the long nights? As for me and mine, it has been a pretty hard slog these past eleven years. Every colleague gone, every friend lost, every moment of regret clearly in focus, and every unanswered question highlighted as stars in the darkest evening sky...and a seeming inescapable pain with every beat of my heart have a unique place for me in these long nights, weeks, months and years. So? Who cares? And, given that it is me being discussed, why should anyone care at all? Do you know that feeling, too? I do. I know it well. I know it so very well that it sometimes overtakes my usual happy spirit and effervescent nature. But, it is a question that I, as a belly button kid get to ask. Of whom? Of my doctors? My one true friend? My care workers? My cats? My God? (The tears are okay. Let them flow. I am.) Of all the ways we can be betrayed, of all the folks we can fail, and of all the failures we must endure on this journey, must we also suffer a failure of our faith? Is it required that we find ourselves utterly alone in the universe before faith will finally begin to make sense? And if you think I am the first person, much less the first patient to discover this experiential reality, let me disabuse you of the notion. I am not. Neither are you! A recent stop on my journey for me personally, the question arrived in the form of "Has any thing, any moment of my life mattered? To anyone? After all, that really is a question most of humanity would at least prefer to have answered in the affirmative. I, too have a belly button, after all. For me, my answer to that query is hugely in the negative. I've done a lot of stuff; many things. But nothing which really mattered, or matters much. That is one of the great dangers of choosing serving others as a life goal: you get to plant the seeds, but very rarely if ever get to reap the results. I deal with hope. Others deal with reality. Hope is planting seeds. Reality is tasting the fruit. Belief in a Savior is a really big part of my faith. Does He Care? Really? Or, is it all a lie, a fiction (as I have screamed to and at me at virtually every turn) or a fantasy? Every human ever to have taken this journey has, is, or will arrive at this moment. The intersection may be major, you know a big one. Or, it may be a very small, quiet or even silent one. Yet, the moment comes. It's not that it comes that matters, you see. It's how you answer the moment that matters. I've been having some trouble trying to answer that question for myself lately. Then, a friend showed up, and showed off. Again. His answer helped me a lot. I offer it to you in the hopes that it will help you, too. I haven't found the answer yet, but at least I believe I am on the right path to it. That helps. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Everyone asks the questions. That's not unique. It is the individual faith of the believer which provides the 'knowing', even during the long nights dreary. It's just a little difference, friend. But it makes all the difference for me. In His Care, Budroe |
| Immediately prior to "the event" which would eventually be the genesis of this very blog, I had some symptoms that something was quite wrong with my health. Recently, some of those symptoms have returned; not specifically, mind you--but then that is consistent with how they first showed up. This time, however, 1) It is on my left side, not my right side as in the original, 2) more defined, pain-wise but more elusive to diagnosis and treatment, and 3) slightly more concerning to me, personally due not only to the similarities but the reality that, once again, "something" is wrong, and getting more so on a near (but not quite) daily basis. My original concern was the possibility of a blood clot in my left lung. I have also had some moderate to severe rib and chest pain, also on the left side. Finally, there is an area of sheet pain across my stomach from left to right, much more severe on the left side. A chest x-ray in the ER showed no pathology of interest to the symptomology. A CT-C of the chest showed no pathology of interest to the symptomology, both results as the explanation of the situation to me by the ER staff. Ergo, the working presumption is that I have somehow developed a rather nasty case of Pleurisy with specificity to my left side that has, so far, not lessened or resolved. I've never had Pleurisy before, but let me assure you its reputation has certainly preceded it. If, in fact, this is the case, the reputation has been under stated and very well hidden as to the intensity of it's exquisite pain. IF that is, in fact what is going on. A "negative" diagnosis is considered by all in the medical profession to be the weakest, laziest, and least dependable of all diagnoses. IF it's not this, or this, it "most probably" is this. I don't like it. At all. Here's the problem. The pain is gaining on me. I got a few days of limited pain pills which did help me get some sleep for a couple of nights; something I had come to greatly miss in the previous weeks due to...pain. My internal clock is lying somewhere near my arse in a pile of pieces. Now, I am getting sleep only after a dramatic volley of pills (all non-narcotic--think Advil, etc.) that sometimes make it possible for me to grab maybe one hour of sleep. The pain wakes me up. Here's the other problem. Consider your own body. Just for a minute. Ladies, how many women do you know who would honestly tell you that they had NO idea they were pregnant three weeks before a full term, normal delivery? Me neither. Guys, how many people do you know who would honestly tell you that the severe testicular pain they had been suffering for weeks, or even months, was nothing? How many people have you known (or have yourself been) who could honestly tell you that prior to a cancer diagnosis they had no symptoms, no idea at all that anything was wrong? We know our own bodies. On this journey, we know it much better than most others. Like it or don't, we have developed the amazing skill of walking one step at a time, one foot at a time, waiting for the other foot to fall. We are hyper-sensitive about it. We expect it, but at least try to live our lives for others, and as we can, for ourselves. We joy in the quality. When that quality goes South, believe me...we know it. Yes, we do in fact have some false alarms. Not all alarms are false. We depend on our medical care teams to help us determine realty to oppose fear. That is, in itself, difficult in the very best of circumstances. I don't want my Primary Physician separated from my care because of a trip (or several) to the ER to be attended to by someone--anyone who is not intimately familiar with my situation. Ever. That is a door I, and those on this journey, NEVER want opened. Yet, at this point of time, that is pretty much my only option. Not because my favorite White Coat does not care, but because his clinic schedule won't allow a visit for 10 days. I will most likely have to go to the ER again in the interim. I would choose not to, but for the inability to deal with some pretty intense pain that is not only significant in the history of my journey, but remains unexplained. And, oh. The med for Pleurisy did not work. I have some large barrel patches used for pain. I hate them. They hate me. They make me violently ill in my tummy. They deal with the pain. I'm usually deeply asleep for about 8 hours at a time. I do NOT want to meet them because they are a minimal solution. At the ER, it was Dilaudid. That's lite. Fentanyl is not lite. It's like going squirrel huntin' with a bazooka. And these patches ain't b-bs. It's a dilemma. I'm getting encouragement to use the ER like a toll booth if I need to. I don't need to. I need a concrete diagnosis and effective treatment to make it all better. My hero is holding my hand, not pushing--yet advising it's only two minutes away. He's the Dad in the bad times, too. He's with me in the valley. It's just that sometimes, the steps to be taken just plainly suck. Rocks. I remain, as always, In HIS care, and yours. Budroe P.S.: Updates as appropriate. Thanks for caring, sharing, and lifting this situation up for all you know on this journey. |
When you are somehow on this particular journey, whether for yourself or for another, you will from time to time notice shadows ebbing and flowing on your path. These shadows may be from flora or fauna around you, shielding you from the bright and relentless sunlight. These may be a welcome moment on your way, inviting you into the cool shade. Of course, for those of us who are on our own journey, we can also find shadows to be discomforting reminders of what lies ahead; more of a darkness that we instinctively react to in negative ways. For some, we even condition ourselves to reflexively "flinch" like some automatic and involuntary reaction at such times. We train and condition ourselves for such times as self defense against some negative moment or outcome. It can happen when we must go to the doctor, or for therapy, or to an Attorney, or even to others on the journey with us. It can become routine, and natural to pre-emptively respond to what we perceive as danger, sadness, or difficulty. Because it is we who must face such moments, one of the things we will usually do is to do what we can to protect others who are with us on this journey. I cannot say it is a natural thing to do; it is only what we can do. This is important for lots of reasons, but one of the primary reasons is that we are facing uninvited betrayal to our existence by the betrayal of our body. There is just so much we cannot do, or can no longer do. We work very hard to keep that growing list as small as possible from not only selfish motivations, but from selfless motivations as well. Shadows, darkness...differences with distinctions that can become blurred as we proceed. Sometimes, however, shadows can be comforting. I'd like to tell you about one such shadow in particular. This shadow is very special to me, and my journey. Perhaps a small bit of background will help explain things. This particular story begins in 1971, in my hometown of Hazard, Kentucky. I had returned there after the sudden death of my Mother to live in my Father's home. I was a High School Freshman, and looking forward to getting reacquainted with childhood friends. One calm, beautiful day, waiting on the school steps...I saw her. I casually looked over at a friend, and told him "See that girl over there? I might just marry her." We did, in fact have a wonderful relationship of dating, and being an item that lasted some four years. Life took us in separate directions. We had separate lives for some 40 years. Then an incidental email brought us together again. I had just moved from a shelter into public housing--not exactly how I would have predicted I would be living by that point. After emails, and phone calls, she and her husband came to visit. She would visit about every other week, traveling five hours plus each way for the better part of a year. We would discuss current and immediate future schedules (mostly mine, and mostly medical) and then fill in the remainder with activities like shopping, movies, eating out and visiting new place...in a word: life. It got kind of ridiculous, and outrageously expensive for her to continue the round trips. I had made a few with her, visiting her home and her new town. I met her son, his wife, and eventually her new grandson. New life. I made friends with some of her friends, and saw the life she had been living prior to us connecting again. She was a nurse (RN) and administrator of a free clinic serving the medical needs of people in a nine county area with volunteer doctors, nurses, techs and other volunteer staff that made this operation run. To a person, they were all totally in love with her. She had, it seemed, turned out well. I would eventually cave to her group request, and leave the security of medical insurance and housing and move to her town, to live in a home she and her husband own. I live there still. Her efforts gained me medical security, medical insurance, and a (positive) determination for Social Security Disability. Medically, I was in fairly rotten shape, and completely useless in any other consideration. I was out of gas. I was out of fight. Since the first time we communicated again after so long, she has been my shadow on this journey. It has not been easy on, or for her. Most (but, being fair, not all) of that is my fault. Shadows are difficult sometimes to trust when they first appear. Then, darkness comes and the very last thing anyone on this journey wishes is for an innocent traveler to be harmed because of them. Knowing the difference between shadow and darkness is not only very important, but at times very difficult. I was, and still am very, very inept in that regard. To list the things that Sara has done for me would fill all available space in this journal, and still be quite incomplete. Add to that her husband, her son, her community and you have a minimum of a 12 volume series. I'm not up to that at the moment. But so would the list of reasons I am so very blessed, humbled and grateful for her persistent dedication to my care and my person that she has, without exception, exemption, or dispensation provided for and to me. Sara is my one true friend in all the world. She is the only shadow I look forward to every moment of my life. "No greater love is this, but that a person lay down (put aside, suspend, voluntarily give up) their life for a friend." There is for me a living example of this truth. In every way, every day, Sara considers me and my health (and happiness) first. It is easy to say that I love her, and have no doubt, I DO love her. I love her husband, and her son, and her friends, and her community. She was my first true love. That didn't work out. She is my one true friend, and I love her as my one true friend. I adore her shadow upon me. She gives me joy, and hope, and possibility for life. Every day. She counts my meds, accompanies me to medical appointments, procedures and hospitalizations. She sleeps in my hospital room and is with me every second I am hospitalized. Because of this amazing woman, there are times when I am alone, but there is NEVER a time when I am lonely. She is the bravest person I have ever met. She is sharp, truthful, and speaks frankly with me and others. She is my healthcare advocate legally. She has my power of attorney absolutely. She is my companion on this journey, and bravely faces (or at least attempts to) every single step of the way on this journey. I am very, very lucky to have Sara as the center of my world. I know this. Which is my point to you today. Sometimes the shadows are more than we first think of them. It is my hope that you have such shadows along the way on your journey as well. If you do not, please make yourself more sensitive to those, and those things like shadows around you--whether you are on this journey or not. Sometimes, things happen at the speed of life. Other times, things happen because of a loving Heavenly Father ("Dad") who sends to you someone who can fill your heart, your mind and your soul with the one indispensable necessity on this journey, and on the journey of life itself: Hope. He is my Dad in the daytime. He is also my Dad when the shadows of day lengthen to night, and to the darkness. When I hear, or see Sara, I see Him. Thank you Sara. Thank you Dad. I love you, too. Your Forever Friend, Budroe PS: Because it is her favorite color, that's why!  |
| To my friends and fellow travelers on this journey: It's been a while, and there are some updates. The journey continues. I've decided to renew for three months, and see how this goes. I'm doing an awful lot of writing, and almost all of it is politically oriented. I want to get back into form, and continue this journal as was originally intended. I hope you will find words here to be educational, informative, and uplifting. But, as from the beginning, the words will be true words reflecting a continuing journey through, and beyond the valley. The short update: I recently had my Thyroid removed. Seven years of 1) trying to get my health and body stable enough to even consider surgery of any kind, and 2) trying to find a Surgeon willing to risk, with me, the surgery. While I failed on the first point, gains have been made. The Second point was fairly miraculous. After a non-stop chorus of "No Way!", a casual conversation between my PCP and one of his fellow church members, who happened to be an ENT Surgeon (he swears he was unaware of this. I believe him.) led to a series of meetings, tests, and a final conclusion (after 14 months) that he could, and would do the surgery. When I woke up (YAY!) and was lucid, the Surgeon told us that: 1) He had made the largest "cut" on me he had ever made, and 2) He removed the largest Thyroid he had ever seen from me. According to him, the organ was a fair representation of an "over-sized clown bow tie". The journey since the surgery has been very difficult on me and others. My first blood tests post-op showed a T4 level (norm=3.0-4.0) of 49.3. My body reacted immediately to the loss of the Thyroid, but has failed by refusal to respond to the medicine required for the rest of my life (Levothyroxin/Synthroid) which has left me living as one with extreme hypothyroidism. In short: Yuck! After several adjustments to the dosage of the drug--upwards the most recent T4 test showed a level of 56.2. The body and the drug seem not to be communicating well with each other. Yet again, the "pros" are stumped. *sigh* I've had a couple of visits to the "White Coats", but most of my day involves short periods of being awake punctuating nearly continuous bed time and non-restful sleep. While it is known that it will take approximately ONE YEAR for any drug effects to be reflected in my body or labs, any expectations that the current situation is acceptable are being disabused strenuously by myself. I have caregivers, nurses, etc. caring for me, my house and my three boys. Sara is the Captain of that particular team, and deserves Sainthood for her selfless giving to my care, and my life. I am, true to form, her worst enemy on this campaign. Yet, she is here. I now have TWO kitties with medical conditions: W.T. Fields has a kidney failure problem. We almost lost him a short while ago. He recovered and came home, much to the satisfaction, if only for more adversarial encounters with him since. He's a trooper. Dus T Fields has been diagnosed with--hold on to the bar!--Feline Diabetes. Now, when your kitty sacrifices himself for closer identity / affinity with his Daddy, that is a special pal. Like me, his Diabetes is not under control yet. We just brought him back from the Vet yesterday. He approved of that highly, and spent several hours being licked nearly into extinction by his two brothers. Shad O Fields, my ADHD child, is eternally juvenile, happy, innocently loving, inquisitive, and possessing the attention span of a hibernating gnat. He is like a ferret on steroids most of the time, but in a very happy and playful way. He loves his Daddy and his Brothers. Ditto. There will be more surgery, soon. The same Surgeon will remove the bilateral parotid tumors if/when the T4 levels become much closer to normal. Tempus fugit. There are stories of the journey that I must write. I will do that over the next little while. I hope you will join me as I continue this journey. Please keep me in your prayers and best thoughts as I do each of you. In His Care. Budroe ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| In four days, I meet with my Primary Care Physician to discuss test results and consultant reports. I don't know how he feels about the information, but my feeling is that the surgery will not be authorized at this time. Bad result. In five days, I will be back here to report. Right now, remaining calm and as still as reasonable is the game plan continued. PCP has been on extended vacation. Oh well, if a few patients and professionals have to wait, no biggie I surmise. Yes, I will be looking for a new PCP. This one just isn't working out. I didn't choose him, the group he was employed by did. I've tried to work with him, but to virtually no avail. That's very frustrating. It has also affected (negatively) my health. I'm still driving the boat. In His Care, Budroe |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
