Writings of Constance Ore ( 1937 – 2010 )

Today we took Alphie to the veterinarian for his knee surgery, comparable to the Anterior Cruciate Ligament (ACL) procedure in humans. We received the call not too long ago that it was successful, with the removal of the frayed ligament, and the implantation of a synthetic ligament in its place. We will pick Alphie up tomorrow and get instructions about how to give him physical therapy. The hard part will be applying a diet which he must begin in order to take the stress off his joints. I have no clue about what the dog brain absorbs of all of the above, but we will do our best to help Alphie achieve a complete recovery.

Our Christmas celebration will begin “as usual” with Charles playing for a Family Service early on Christmas Eve, and then at 9:00 PM for the beautiful Lessons and Carols service complete with processions, brass, choirs, and candles. I will go to the latter and remember, reflect, rejoice and be thankful. The music written for Christ’s birthday celebration down through the ages is often the best expression of each generation, and it is always new as it sounds through instruments playing in the present and rises again on the breath of voices singing on this holy night.

Christmas Day starts out quietly at home, and after breakfast, we read the portions of the Scripture that relate the events of Christ’s birthday. Later, we’ll feast on roast goose in a remembering of our childhood celebrations, and as the days follow, the entire family will gather. Then the house is filled with singing, children dancing, piano playing, story telling, feasting and games. This is a time that sends us onward into the new year armed with memories of the delights of children and children’s children. We feel the continuum of life as we remember our own grandparents and parents, and we see the new lives following us on the march through time.

I wish that all of you will have blessed and happy Christmas celebrations, too, and a 2009 that contains health and prosperity and hope and promise.

Today is Charles’ birthday, and we celebrate with delight an active musician’s life. This last series of days has flown past with myself on a Prednisone “high”; a lovely little space of time in a body that I used to live within without a second thought. I was given the medication by the pulmonarist to stop the coughing, and it not only did that, but also removed the exhaustion, aches, etc., and gave me days of feeling really fine. Of course, it can’t go on at the high dosage level because it commences to destroy the liver, etc., and leaves one with a system far more trashed than before, but for a respite, it has been heavenly. In three days I will have completed the course, having come down from the high dosages bit by bit, but I am hoping that there will be a residue of good feelings to carry me through Christmas.

On Tuesday of this week, we visited with the oncologist and began the plans for what will happen next. The disease is active, as we have all known, and the doctor determined that I have been away from chemotherapy long enough to try over again. I will do a bone marrow draw on January 6, Epiphany (the opening day of the season of Light and therefore most auspicious) and then begin at least three series of five day intravenous applications of Decitibine. This is a parallel drug to Vidaza, the treatment with which I had good success, so the hope is that we can buy more earth time. On January 6, 2006, when I received the first diagnosis of MDS, the life expectancy was limited to just months, and now here we are moving on after three years! The new drugs which came out shortly before I was diagnosed have made this possible for a number of people, and I am very blessed to have been one of them; the territory ahead is unexplored, so what happens next is not known.

Winter grips Sanctuary in extreme cold with promised freezing rain, sleet and snow this afternoon. We have stocked up on popcorn, wood for the fire, and materials to complete Christmas cards and make cookies. Alphie is lying about because he now is limping with a hip problem; he will have X-Rays and possibly surgery next week, so perhaps his Christmas gift will be a new hip. We were told when we got him that his sires did not have this difficulty in their blood lines, but the vet said that there just isn’t a way to tell when or how it happens. Some large dogs develop weaknesses in spite of all else, and dear Alphie is one of them.

Miracles abound. This is the birthdate of eight year old twins who brighten the world around them even as they discover it. At their birth, each little head could be held in the palm of my hand with fingertips showing – on this day it is difficult to imagine such small beginnings as they dance and sing and read and make music and run and shriek and laugh and cry. Newly crafted humans are ever a delight!

Our leaden skies and cold winds from the north provide great impetus for putting out lights and bright red ribbons on evergreen boughs. Alphie and I walked before dawn this morning, and as I listened to the fierce north wind in the branches of the honey locusts on the hill I thought of all the poetic words used to define that wintry sound. When the ears hear the moaning pitch, and the face feels the rush of cold, the body hurries toward shelter and warmth. There was a bit of snow that fell last night, so we had light color under our feet even as the dark sky hovered. Now the bright red cardinals are a visual delight at the feeders and many birds are out eating, all nervously keeping an eye out for the hawk which has already made two appearances this morning.

Meanwhile, I started into a course of steroids as prescribed by the pulmonarist to address the throat and cough. Last week, the Cat scan revealed what I didn’t have, but apparently didn’t define what I do have. The antibiotics were stopped with the cautionary words about developing super bugs that will be unstoppable when only antibiotics might help, with the words, “and then you would be toast” which I thought to be very effective. Somehow, I had been under the impression that the antibiotics were throwing up a defense against interlopers while the immune system is no longer in place. I was very strongly told that this was not a correct assumption, so I flung the pills away, along with my faith in their usefulness, and carried on with the inhalers only. The cough and throat got considerably worse yesterday, so on to steroids. I don’t think I will be consuming them long enough to get big muscles and puffy cheeks, but if I do get a great surge of energy, I will leap right into the pre-Christmas cookies, decorating, and other taken-for-granted activities of the past.

Without snow, the scene at Sanctuary is muted. The deer, pheasant and quail are all quiet and watchful since the hunting season has arrived, so squirrels, bluejays, cardinals, cedar waxwings, juncos, and various woodpeckers get the most attention. The sharp-shinned hawk comes to sit very quietly upon the arbor, perhaps pretending to be a large branch, who knows, but apparently the smaller birds have yet to be fooled into rash inattention, and upon those occasions, there is no motion to be seen anywhere until the hawk flies on.

Our trip to Chicago was completely satisfying, with no residue illness and high marks for “the mask”. It is not quite as severe as the one which John-paul depicted in such a splendid manner, but rather it clamps over the nose and mouth keeping out 99% of germs. While at the concert, there was a young woman sitting directly behind me who was coughing, sniffing and hacking and remarking to her companion that she really didn’t feel all that well; without the mask in place, I likely would have turned to stone in fear of contracting anything more than already had taken up residence in the lungs. Now, on this day in early December, I look ahead to a Cat Scan of the lungs tomorrow, to establish whether the antibiotic is working. I feel that it is, since my breathing and voice have been better recently. Later on in the month, it is back to the oncologist. . . the blood readings show that soon I will be into “bullet biting” and making some choices re. more chemotherapy. (I looked up “bite the bullet” as a phrase, and it goes back to soldiers having limb amputation, for example, before there was anesthetics. They were given a bullet to bite on as they endured the procedure. . . I feel fortunate that my experience will not require such extreme measures.)

Advent has come with its beautiful music and myriad preparations. Since these songs haven’t joined the sound assault of endless commercial renditions of the once beloved Christmas carols, the Advent hymns can still present lovely words and melodies without having to pass through the loudspeakers and torturous tinsel tones of mall music. Charles played his setting of “Come, O Long-Expected Jesus” on Sunday, and it was a wonderful beginning to a wonderful season.
“Come, O long-expected Jesus, born to set your people free;
from our fears and sins release us by your death on Calvary.
Israel’s strength and consolation, hope to all the earth impart,
Dear desire of every nation, Joy of every longing heart.

Born your people to deliver, Born a child and yet a king.
Born to reign in us forever, Now your gracious kingdom bring.
By your own eternal Spirit rule in all our hearts alone;
By your all-sufficient merit raise us to your glorious throne”.