September 15, 2009
Today is a different day. There is a high overcast, and below that are light grey clouds that are unformed, looking like someone took a large paint brush and swept it across the east side of the sky. Stillness rests over Sanctuary, though robins are beginning to gather in small groups near the wetland stream, and the bees working in the fall flowers seem busier than ever. It seems as if this is an in-between time, neither summer nor fall – one season finished, the other not yet arrived.
In a way, that is where I am in life. We saw the oncologist and it felt a bit odd because there are no treatments available for me, so we just sat and visited without a plan of action for the future. I am in palliative care which briefly means “no cure, keep the patient comfortable”, though this additional definition in the Medical Dictionary was interesting: “The Latin “pallium” referred to a type of cloak in ancient Greece and Rome and, later, to a white woolen band with pendants in front and back worn by the pope or an archbishop as a symbol of full episcopal authority. Pallium was modified to form “palliate,” an adjective meaning “cloaked” or “concealed” and a verb meaning “to cloak,” “to cloth,” or “to shelter.” Today “palliation” implies the disguising or concealing of badness or evil and suggests the alleviation of the vile effects of wickedness or illness.” Even the doctor said “It must feel strange”.
The good thing is that my doctors are very willing to seek out ways to “cloak the wickedness”, and my latest adventure is with Prednisone which has helped with the pain, and increased my energy somewhat. This is an improvement worthy of pursuit. The main side effects at the moment are nausea and loss of appetite. Sunday we invited dear friends including a couple visiting the area from Denver for lunch, and as I contemplated getting a meal prepared, my whole being went into “Yuck!” mode. I determined to go ahead anyway, and I called Heidi and asked her to “spin a chicken” for us, and then asked the guests to do the food preparations when they came. This happened, and for the first time, I entertained at a meal where I watched others in the kitchen doing all the work. It ended up a happy story, however, a sub-plot worthy of a John Cleese send-up was the chew bone I gave to Alphie to enjoy while we dined. I always give him something when people come – he lies down near us and radiates contentment and “Wonderful Dog-ness” while having his own fine eating moments. The trouble with this one was that he was right behind one of the guests, and as he worked over the newly-acquired-never-before-tried bone it sounded as though there was a 300 pound monster chewing off the table leg. It was incredible. “Crack! Crunch, crunch, grind. . .” and even as it was happening, everyone was politely keeping up the conversation. Though we apologized for the unfortunate sound track, we just went on because it was our dear Alphie and we didn’t have the will to redirect the activity. C’est la vive.