Constance Ore is a retired Teacher, Choir Director, and Organist. And a formidable cook.

January 20, 2009

Filed under: — Constance at 5:12 pm on Tuesday, January 20, 2009


Where does one go when the physical container of one’s spirit becomes less and less functional? In the past week, I went onward with the plan to attempt one more extension of life through the application of Chemotherapy. The port was placed, and last Monday I began the five days of Vidaza. The oncologist told me that there is no way of telling what might happen – this could buy me another month or perhaps even a year. I reiterated that I had been living a miracle for quite some time now, and I will not hesitate to hope for another. The good thing has been the unexpected strength of my blood so far, and therefore the hope is that it may be able to continue.


The actual Vidaza application was easier through the port than it had been via the injections, and the side effects are just beginning to manifest themselves now. If I can survive the next week, I think this may work. Today I feel really sick with an upset stomach, total exhaustion and chest and throat pain. Yesterday’s CBC indicated that I have some toxic granules developing in the white blood cells – a sign of inflammation beginning within the body itself. I was told that the chemo’s attack on cells will reach its nadir by Wednesday, and then the hoped for turn around might begin. To cope, I am using anti-nausea meds and hydrocodone for the pain – my voice is quite hoarse, and my speech is slow so I convey a strong impression of barely creeping onward. . . once again, the old, old woman looks back at me out of the morning mirror.


Meanwhile, Alphie mends, and his limping is almost gone. He is beginning to resume his serious sniffing and chasing activities and the hair over the shaved portion of his hip is almost grown back. He and I watched the Inauguration events from parallel prone positions. I tell him about the great import of this day, and he looks at me intently, conveying deep interest while not understanding a syllable. Hope for better days inside the small space of my physical self springs up and joins the greater hope that permeates this country as the entire nation looks forward toward a new beginning and a better future. This is really a wonderful and blessed day!

6 Comments

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Comment by Peter Glawatz

January 20, 2009 @ 5:38 pm

Hope is undeniably a powerful thing.

True hope is swift, and flies with swallow’s wings;
Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.
-Richard III

I’m thinking of you and always hoping for the very best.

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Comment by Christelle

January 20, 2009 @ 5:48 pm

Bless you, Connie. You are in my thoughts and prayers often. Your miracles have been a joy to observe as we read your heartfelt entries. Thank you for setting such an inspirational example as you live each day fully and trust in God’s unending faithfulness. I pray for continued miracles! May you feel strength from God through all friends and family who support you from near and far.

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Comment by Becky Pfabe

January 20, 2009 @ 10:06 pm

Connie, I haven’t really paid attention to if you write on a particular day of the week, but I just knew that when I went to your site today, there would be an entry. There is so much hope today, hope for the small things, hope for the big things, hope for YOU! May miracles keep being a part of your life, and lives of all of God’s children!
Lots of love, Becky

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Comment by dick gale

January 21, 2009 @ 5:01 pm

1/21/09

Hi Alphie – I’ll address this note to you, since you did such a good job yesterday keeping your mom company while you two watched the inauguration events. We had a little bit of dog in our inauguration day as well. We listened to Obama’s inspiring speech in a car en route from El Centro to Salton City, CA. While stopped for a Immigration car check, we observed a drug-sniffing customs German Shepherd dog at work, checking out the wheel wells of a truck. He did seem happy in his work, as his tail wagged throughout.

Your mom indicated that you seemed interested in the inauguration stuff, but she also suggested that you may “not have understood a syllable.” Perhaps, but I’ll share a little story that might suggest she may have underestimated what you understand. Many years ago, Susan and I, and our now-departed terrier, Booker, attended a very small Unprogrammed Quaker Meeting at a friend’s former schoolhouse home in the western Oregon hills. These hour-long Meetings are quiet unless someone wants to say something. Few did, and Booker rested quietly at the edge of the 7 person group. A person new to the group did speak a little, sharing some of her personal life frustrations. We always end the Meeting by holding hands and standing in a circle. At this Meeting, when we formed the circle, Booker immediately seated himself in the center of the circle, gazing up at each of us with his intense brown eyes. We understood that he understood. (Coincidentally, we often sang at the end of the Meeting, and one of our favorites, which we sang that day, was the “simple gifts” Quaker hymn that was the basis for the John Williams classical music piece played as part of the yesterday’s swearing-in ceremony.)

So, Alphie, keep doing a good of keeping your mom company. She’ll likely keep talking to you, and we know that you will keep understanding in the special way that you, Booker, and other special dogs, always do.

Dick and Susan Gale, Laguna Woods, CA

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Comment by dick gale

January 26, 2009 @ 1:52 pm

Monday 1/26

Hi Connie — Let me send some warm Monday Morning Cello Report detals to you. (I checked Accuweather for you people, and it looks like the cold will stay with you a bit more.)

The Laguna Beach Music Festival featured cellist Lynn Harrell. We went to three open rehearsals and a Sunday matinee, and it was a real joy to watch Harrell interact with the other (mostly young) artists. Many highlights, but the “highest” were the haunting VILLA-LOBOS:Bachianas Brasileiras No. 5 for cello octet & soprano, the wild first movement of the SCHUBERT:Quintet in C major, D. 956 (w/ 2 cellos), and, all by himself, in a single spotlight on a darkened stage, the BACH:Suite #3 in G major for unaccompanied cello, BWV 1009. Whew!!!!!

The music went on for us, at home. We have a 1990 VHS tape of Harrell with Itzhak Perlman and Pinchas
Zuckerman in NYC doing three Beethoven String Trios. Harrell is now 65. It was very interesting to see him nearly two decades ago — leaner, more hair, no glasses, but the moves with the cello and with the other players were the same // positive, clear, amiable, open. Great music and a great, humane, artist.

So, that’s the Monday Morning Cello Report from Southern California. (No, you don’t want to know how nice it is outside . . .)

Take care this week — I imagine the recent med stuff has left you much in the mood to cuddle Alphie for both comfort and canine perspective advice.

warmest best to you three — our thoughts are with you,

dick (and susan) gale

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Comment by irene Beethe

January 26, 2009 @ 5:22 pm

Dear Connie,

After reading the Southern California Cello report…I won’t tell you about our weather! Much like yours I suppose! It is good to know that some people have warm temperatures and sunshine!

We think of you often and especially on Tuesdays, since that seems to be the day when we receive an update from you….we pray for your spirit, even when your body is weary, and for God’s love to surround you and fill you with hope and comfort!

Love, Irene

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