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 |   My journey through (and beyond) the valley with Cancer as my companion. |
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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_o_h 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 ** |
It goes along. I am not yet finished with the task at hand, yet I did not expect to be this far along, either. In thanks to another of my friends along the journey, PastVoices  , I wish to consider for a moment the strategy for using the documents I previously listed here: "Invalid Entry" . While it may seem simple, having access to the documents can be handled one of two ways. The first is my most common recommendation: When you are called upon this journey, make certain that one of your first calls is to your Attorney. He or she will know which documents will be needed, and in what order. My landlady has done a most remarkable thing, I believe. She has a screened-in front porch to her home. (Her porch is almost larger than my entire house!) Inside the porch, nailed to the side of her front door, is her Living Will. I asked her once why she had done that. Her words are cautionary for us all: "Well, the EMS folks will need to know, too. If they have to come to get me, and I can't speak for myself, my Living Will does." Incredible. And, incredibly cogent. She also has the number of her Primary Care Physician, her next of kin, her Executor, and her Attorney on the document's face! Now, that is a powerful document. If the document is used properly, and the appropriate people are contacted immediately, she just has to concentrate on being ill, and/or getting well. That document leads to the other documents, in order as required. There is a false security, I think, in Safety Deposit Boxes as the ONLY repository of these important documents. Banks, as a rule, have operating hours. Illness and death do not. It would be a true shame if the only access to your wishes were locked away until Monday. How inconsiderate of you to move to Heaven on a Friday evening--and even moreso the Friday before the Federal Holiday on Monday! Having your documents in a Safety Deposit box is an outstanding idea. Just make certain they also reside in a place that makes practical sense! Your loved ones will be quite dismayed to discover AFTER contacting the Funeral Director at ABC Funeral Home to arrange for the care of your remains that you HATE ABC because of the dour treatment they recieved at Auntie Emma's funeral. Or worse, the autopsy you wanted is not being done, the organ donations you desired have not been harvested, or the specific wish you had to be cremated has been side-tracked in favor of the open viewing (which is not only incredibly more expensive, but requires embalming under Federal Law!) that everyone thinks would be so grand. Your Executor, and your Attorney should have complete copies of all these documents. They MUST be informed, and advised, when the necessity for the Living Will, the Funeral / Burial Plan, etc. become the vital documents of the day. I realize we are discussing difficult things here, and things as well that should be ruled by, if nothing else, common sense. Grief, shock, sadness, and loss are all trump cards to common sense! I would, additionally, with love and respect, tell you that acknowledging the relevance of this discussion does nothing to salve my conscience unless you take it upon yourself to DO this difficult task--immediately! It does not require the presence, or assistance (as I can prove) of any other party. If hubby just can't stand the notion, he can be the one everyone is angry with later on. These documents are PERSONAL. Everyone with a belly button should have a complete set. Do yours! If the wife throws a screamin' hissy fit because you decided to complete this morbid task, at least she will have sufficient reason for the fit she throws! And, please. Having done this tough task, don't hide it. Speak with those who matter most about your final wishes--as often as necessary to be so completely understood that your wishes cannot possibly be understood. Get verbal or (in some cases I have seen) written agreement, in advance. Make it a settled issue. This is what creates the freedom to live outside the documents! And, what a gift! As a comment to my dear friend Sheherazade pointed out, there is a common fallacy regarding the preparation of final documents. I personally recommend that every person over the age of 16 years have a complete set. In many instances, the limit is set by the legal age in that jurisdiction for the establishment of a legal binding contract, which is usually 16 years. But, even if the Living Will, Last Will and Testament, etc. are not given "standing" in a Court of Law, the Court DOES recognize the legal intent of the author. You do get to speak your voice. In the case of legal minors, there can be a great deal of contradiction between the wishes of the minor and the Guardian(s). This also plays out between "blended" families, as well. You do have a right to have a say in the final arrangements of your life. It is simply a much better position to have these documents legally recorded and kept. Step-families can quabble later. (And, trust me--they will!)I urge you to create the documents. I agree that it is an important, and timely discussion. But, unfortunately I am unwilling to accept that as the status quo. We need look no further than the sorry predicament of my dear friend PlannerDan for all the instruction we need. His was the very same predicament that caused me to reach into the safe one Friday afternoon in 1995. In my case, it was a swollen finger on my wife's left hand that led to an incredible five-state, five-hospital journey that got us to our Physician. On Friday afternoon, he informed me that Open-Heart surgery would take place on Monday morning. Thank God above that there were documents in the safe to be grasped.And, if you still do not have a sense of urgency to complete this task, I guess the best question I have for you is: Exactly what will it take? If, after all is said and done, the only response I can offer those grieving in utter confusion can be "Interesting Choice", I really do not believe the hoped-for sense of comfort will come shining through. As much as each of you has come to mean to me, how much moreso do you mean to those who hold central positions in your life? Do it for me. Do it for them. DO IT! Please? In his Care, Budroe |
| Friend: As I continue the task at hand, I am taking some slight diversions to write original words as well. It seems to be the only way I can make it through this difficult task. Here are the two newest additions to my portfolio. I hope you will afford me the kindness of your feedback.
R/R/R will be most appreciated. Flames will be ignored. On to today: As I recorded in my previous entry, this weekend is being consumed with the creation of legal documents which are relative to only one subject. The subject is one that most people do not approach willingly, or lightly. It is a wrangling with eternity itself that causes most mere mortals to shudder and tremble. Lest you somehow become confused, I am a mere mortal. This is not the first time I have faced this obligatory task, and I can tell you that it is the most difficult visit with it that I have personally experienced. Remember how I have spoken in the earlier entries of the shotgun? Well, trust me when I tell you that it is truly difficult to concentrate on things legal while staring down the twin barrels. There is, to my mind, only one time worse than now to be doing this dreadful, but imperative task, and that is not doing it at all. Even though the framework is there, a period of significant time (10 years) has passed since I last updated this paperwork. It truly might as well be from a fresh start, so that is what I decided to do. I also decided to do this work, in my way. I am locking myself down inside the house for the weekend, or until this task is complete. The last time I was required to do this task, my wife and I secreted ourselves away in a Colorado mountain resort where, unbeknownst to anyone, we spent two solid days working on the required documents until they were completed to our satisfaction, had been duly notarized and witnessed, and faxed to our Attorney, our Accountant, our Banker, and our Hospital. Additional copies were made for our Executors, our children, our Insurance Agents, and our business partners. Although it does cause me to smile, it just so happens that I am repeating more of that process than at first it may appear. It was 14 years ago, Superbowl weekend. We did, in fact, complete our task in time to host a previously planned Superbowl Party. No person who attended that party had any idea how we had spent the past three days. No one congratulated us (except our Attorney) for the work we accomplished. The net result of our work? Well, several things were realized, actually. Some of those things, however, did not become apparent until the time those documents we created were called into service. In the intervening time, we had no concerns about what would happen to either one of us if the "worst" were to visit. We did not spend moments, hours, or days in frustrating agony, wringing our hands with worry or anguish. I, being the one required to bring forth the documents, was in a total fog. I was having to be reminded to drink my coffee! Life had, in one short moment, stopped. It is when life stops that these documents suddenly spring to life. As an echo of wishes, and dreams, these documents are futile and completely useless. Stark reality is their only realm, and they are the undisputed rulers of their realm. Their rule is neither benevolent nor malevolent. They reign in completely cordial ambivalence, and thier power is voluntarily laid upon them by their creators. Their power is limited only by the creative minds, purposes, and desires of their creators. Their ability to reign is also limited. Power is given, or taken away almost on a whim sometimes, it seems. Discord and acrimony can almost immediately and completely destroy the power these rulers have taken upon themselves. Often, contentious, heart-splitting, nerve-shattering, and mind-numbing full-fledged battles break out over the presence, or absence of a word, or a phrase. Such conflagrations of the soul often find themselves centered in a Court of Law, where dyspeptic participants, sychophants, and the merely amused gather to seek the declarative counsel of a Judge who, more often than not, is not disposed to benevolence simply because these participants are in his or her courtroom in the first place! And, dear friend, I beg of you. Mark my words well. Regardless of who may prevail in such actions before the Bar of Justice, there are NO winners. The result is, no matter what the outcome, nothing more than a descending series of losses. Relationships are forever lost. Families are completely torn asunder, for time and all eternity. Sadness and remorse are created by the truckload. Anger, disposition of ill-will, and the most evil of intents become the order of the day. And, as appropriately as the twist may seem, it is often the very documents themselves which occasion the necessity for dispassionate arbitration! I know that I have said it here, but I am by no means the first to say so. It is extremely difficult to write something complex with simplicity sufficient to be understood. And, in this particular endeavor, there is nothing more complex. The more complex the document, the greater the need for simplicity. You see, it is not merely enough that the document be simple enough so as to be understood. These are the most complex documents of your life--for these are the documents that dictate the end of your life. They are only sufficient when they are so simple that they cannot be misunderstood. Friend, please believe me when I tell you these things. I am living proof of them. I have been compelled to visit these documents again, immediately, because of medical necessity. What's your excuse? Feeling rather healthy, and invincible are ya? Yes, friend. I do know the feeling. The last time I experienced it was on October 28th, 2006. It's a distant, but recent recollection. I know many people who have this same feeling. My friend "Mary Smith" had it on a morning not so long ago, as she walked out of a local convenience store after fueling up her car on the way to work. As her car spun around on the ice, I do not believe she was contemplating the "issue" of her Last Will and Testament. As the oncoming pickup truck careened headlong into her front fender at over 50 mph, I truly must confess to you that I doubt she was considering the security of her Living Will. As, with her last breath, the steering wheel drove into her chest, I truly do not believe she felt at rest with her Advance Directive for Health Care, or her General Power of Attorney for Healthcare Issues. I loved "Mary". She was a dear friend. She went from secure and invincible to Heaven in what has been approximated at 2/10 of one second. At 62 years of age, she would not need these documents. And, apparently it was a good thing, because she had never taken the time to create them. Have you? If not, what would you say to her children, in their loss as they fight tooth and nail for the physical possessions of life which were left by Inge? By what degree would you step into their argument of voluntary hatred and anger towards each other to calm their desolation? How would YOU decide which of the two actually SHOULD get the beloved collection that both of them remember fondly, yet are each unwilling to put into two equal parts? "My loved ones know my wishes." No, they do NOT. In those moments that truly matter, not only do they not know your wishes, but they couldn't possibly remember them if they DID ever know of them. Furthermore, the Cherry bedroom suite can't possibly go to your Sister Mabel, because she died two years ago! The China you want your daughter to have can't possibly go to her, your Son (The Executor) declares! He loved you more, and should have the China for himself. Besides, his Sister will never know. Everyone has an Estate. Print that on a napkin and tape it to your forehead. Create a Last Will and Testament. Get it witnessed, and notarized. If you have already done this much of the work, please take it out and look at it within the next 8 days (but not on Superbowl Sunday!). Let me try to explain something to you. Make sure that you have precisely written your wishes. Cover everything! Your left-behind loved ones will NOT do as you want. They will NOT understand, remember, or honor your wishes. They WILL attempt to circumvent your desires, and replace them with their own senses of morality, propriety, and greed. What a completely terrible thing to say about your beloved ones! How do I possibly know this? Well, the answer lies in over 30 years worth of "Don't ask!". Simple Will kits are available for less than $10 at your local office supply store. They are available, with assistance, online. Just one such place is at http://www.nolo.com. Here is a really simple way to do your will. It is a simple process, but you will have to repeat it many times before you are finished. If you will just take the time to do this process correctly once, you will: + Never have to do it again (minus annual reviews for additions/deletions) + + Never have to spend another moment of your living worrying about it + + Never have to worry about your wishes being carried out, to the letter, upon your death. That's not a whole lot of reasons, but they are the three best reasons I can come up with. After thirty-plus years, this particular list has not changed. The creation of a Simple Will varies in its legal complexity and requirement from State to State. The site I referenced has a Simple Will Kit for every state in the United States, and/or her territories. Should you decide to seek the services (and I most urgently recommend it!) of a competent Attorney-at-Law, you will still need to do these three things anyway. It will just mean a much lower fee to the Attorney, which always seems to give me a rush of pleasure for some inexplicable reason! Step One: Walk around your house, inside and out. (Repeat for all properties you own). With a pad of legal paper, write down every stick of furniture, picture, lightbulb, article of clothing in the closet, or under the bed, and include the window drapes and blinds. Complete at least one page for each room. Continue this until your eyes have physically surveyed every single item you possess. What you want someone specifically to have, make a special mark by that item, and name the person (one, not seven!) you wish to have it. You will most probably have at least one item in each room that you wish to specifically give (bequeath) to someone. "The furniture goes to Johnny." It doen't work. Don't do it. "The cherry bedroom suit in the room known as 'Johnny's Bedroom', including the bed, rails, mattresses, head/foot board, five-drawer chest, two bedside tables, and mirror ('the suit'),and bed linens purchased, made, or given for that bedroom suit shall become the property of Johnny!"--THAT works, because it cannot be misunderstood. If you do not mention the side chair that was originally part of the set because it is now downstairs in the hallway beside the entrance to the kitchen--shame on you! There WILL be an argument over it. Look what YOU did! When that task is complete (Okay, so how about a room per week until it's done? Nobody has to know what you are doing, after all. You do have your rights to Privacy--even with this!): Step Two: Make another list. This list shall include all the specific bequests you have made from the previous lists. You must also create another list, and title it "Other Stuff". Who cares about Janie's 4th Grade Report Card, so lovingly framed and hanging on the stairway wall? Steven, her ill-disposed Brother, who just can't wait to take it and upset his "Do Good" Sister, that's who! Hey, if you don't put it on one of these two lists, you ARE CREATING THE ARGUMENT! DON'T!! Put it down, on one list or the other. Continue with these two lists until no item from the original list remains. These are, by the way, called "Specific" and "General" (Unspecified) bequests. They should include all real, physical, and attached property, insurance proceeds, profit and shares of business, educational funds, savings and checking accounts, and lottery ticket stubs! And do NOT forget about the 128 Mason Jars of cash, buried under the Barn floor! They won't! When every single item on the original list has been transferred to either the "Specific" or "General" list, throw the original list away. Burn it. Shred it. Do NOT leave it around your desk, for Sally to find the day before your Funeral! (She's always had her eye on that blasted furniture in Johnny's room, anyway.) Make your specific bequests in your Last Will and Testament. Make some single person (preferrably NOT your Executor--even though many do make this common mistake) solely responsible for the distribution of your "General" bequests. ( I have my alternate Executor in this role, with his agreement. Yes, you should have at least two persons named as Executor and Alternate. I personally prefer three. One of them will do the job.) You now have a list of specific and general bequests. This is the "meat" of your Last Will and Testament. You will also address the guardianship of your minor children (who may in fact reach majority before you review your Will!), revocation of any and all previous Wills and Codecils (additional statements to your Last Will), and other important information. Step Three: Finally, I specifically encourage you to include an "incontestability" clause to your Will. How certain are you that you want Jimmy to have the Stamp Collection? Nail it down! Basically, an incontestability clause states that these are your specific wishes on how your final effects are to be distributed. It also states that "any person herein named who contests any distribution or part thereof, shall be removed from this Will, and shall furthermore be entitled to receive no part of it." Sally gets the drapes, and Shelly wants them. Is Shelly willing to give up the Insurance money to get them? Well, with an incontestability clause, Shelly gets neither. This is a most important clause for any Last Will, as it begins the legal process which makes it "Iron-Clad". An incontestibility clause makes the personal will almost unbreachable--even by a Court. If Shelly DOES contest the Will, she loses her inheritance. That portion will be (if not provided for within the incontestability clause itself : "Any contested proceeds issuing from this Will shall immediately become the issuance to the Executor, or the oldest surviving child, or the cat...") "probated" (issued) by the Court as it sees fit. Finally, review your Will once per year. It only takes a few moments to read, and any additions (Grandchildren born last year?) or deletions (Poor Old Uncle Ned!) can be immediately added via Codecil, witnessed, and notarized as an addendum which keeps your previous hard work in place, and your Legal fees down toward $0! My life has, in ten years, changed immensely. I have virtually no inheritors which survive me. I have companies that did not exist ten years ago. The companies which I listed ten years ago are no longer mine--they have been closed or sold. As per the agreement between my wife and I, the furntiure of our home went to the new home of each recently married child, especially "THEIR" furniture. The agreement holds. That's just how important this time is. As a minimum, each person reading these words should have completed: ~ A Last Will and Testament ~ ~ A Living Will ~ ~ An Organ Donation Agreement ~ ~ An Advance Health Care Directive ~ ~ A General Power of Attorney for Healthcare Matters ~ ~ A Revocation of General Power of Attorney for Healthcare Matters (Unsigned, and undated) ~ I urge you, and plead with you, and sincerely beg you to get these matters taken care of NOW! Do not let the impetus to complete them be the itchy trigger finger on a shotgun. Take the few moments now, before you are called upon this journey, to set your affairs in order. This is YOUR final statement not only to the world, but to those who you love the most--and who love you the most--as well. It is your obligation to perform this task in such a way as the resulting actions specifically follow all of your desires--ALL OF THEM! Honor those you love, by allowing them to have the power to honor you when it matters most. I have mine working. My Memorial Service has been written (Including the words, the music, the officiants, and a preferred list of attendees/exclusions). The list of persons and things which are to be notified of my death, and affiliated organizations (including this one, by the way) has been completed. It is a very difficult, sad, and (for me) lonely task. I do not want to waste one more minute of my life on it. So, I just decided to get it done--right--the first time. I beg you to do the same. Nobody will hate you for doing it, but many may well hold eternal resentment if you don't. In His Care, Budroe |
| I've got to make some decisions in the very short-term future that could affect the rest of my life. Medical decisions, that is. A lot happened yesterday, and the day before. I'm being asked to make some calls where ya just don't get no change back, if you know what I mean. Looking around at my arsenal of friends and family, I'm wondering which one of them I would call upon to assist me with these decisions. Of those who would take up this particular battle for me, I dare not ask. Of those who would shy away, I know not to ask. Finding unambiguous advice, while at the same time finding it from friends--who are loyal enough to be honest in their opinions--is a bit like walking the finely-honed edge of a battle sword. Slip-ups can be costly, or even fatal. At this point, these are the kinds of decisions that I must make. Not only because it is well past the time to do so, but also because I need the prospective, I am spending this weekend doing some legal paperwork. Advance Health Care Directives, General Power-of-Attorney for Health Decisions, Living Will, Organ Donation Agreements, and a Last Will and Testament are on top of the stack. Along with them are the organizational paperwork for the corporation, the division of the property and my desires for the work of the company to extend well beyond my life. Disability paperwork comes next, including a request by the Disability Determination Board for a mental evaluation--standard for those of us on the journey. Boy, howdy, do I feel sorry for THOSE folks. They ain't gonna know what hit 'em! But, they'll remember it for sure! I learned something tonight that has bothered me for most of my life. I figured out an important thing. When the solution came to me, it was just so very obvious that I did that whole "Why didn't I see it before?" thing to myself. I've spent the better part of my lifetime trying to figure it out. Tonight, it became crystal clear to me. It had to do with a nasty little question that comes up, invariably, on this journey. It came up long before I put the stack of papers in front of me, knowing that this was going to, yet once again, be "THAT" weekend. I was, in one of those rare moments, talking with my Sister. It is not incorrect to state that we are "estranged", as a result of our last walk on this journey with a couple of family members. We continue to attempt to repair the damage. But, we both realize that too much damage has been done for that. I am every bit as responsible for the damage as she has been. In fact, if accounts were to be totalled up, hers would come out way ahead of mine in the "Attempts to Repair" column. (NB: I had to save this now, so my stupid calendar would go Blue today, and that obnoxious reminder wouldn't come up. I love hatin' that thing! Now, to continue <sticks tongue out at calendar!>: "So, where do you want to be buried? In Erlanger, with Mom and the Bartons, or in Hazard, with Dad and Nanny, and the Fields's?" In the first place, I do not wish to be "buried" at all. I wish to be cremated, and have my ashes scattered in a very particular way, in a very particular place. (Actually, in two places, but let's not quibble when there is a nit mid-pick, shall we?) That leaves only a re-constituted question, which she immediately created. "Okay, where do you want your headstone to be?" What I want to do is to re-visit the original question for a moment, in my own mind. Because, you see, the original question is where the answer to my puzzlement of all these years lies. I didn't know that we were two families. But, while I was basking in the stunned silence of the question, out popped the solution that has, for decades, avoided me. I wasn't invited to my Father's home when my Mother (nee Barton) died. I was cast upon him. I was my Nanny's grandchild, and her "boy" (Fields). But, just so that there be no doubt, I have always been a Barton in my soul. I do not know, understand, or even much care for most things Fields in my world. I am, interestingly enough, now that I consider it, much more proud to be my Mother's son than I am to have my Father's name. There is not a particular (generally speaking, at least) reason for that, and the realization of that just dawned on me tonight. My Sister, however, chose to live with my Father before my Mother moved to Heaven. She had personal time, and personal experience with him, and his ways. She has always identified herself as a Fields. I have never thought of myself as anything other than a Barton. I am the spitting image of my Father, and she has mannerisms, speech, looks, and an uncanny ability to resemble my Mother in action! How wierd is that? Tonight, we both realized why our life paths have been closer than any other of our family members, yet never together. It was an amazing, and entirely too uncomfortable moment. But, having come to that reality (which still stuns me), it also explains why we ARE so close. We were each other's only ally, yet we were always walking side-by-side--on opposite sides of the fence. She has never NOT been a Fields. I have never NOT been a Barton. Choice? Perhaps. But, it does resolve a host of questions that have had a lifetime to linger in my mind. I'm sure they have taken up space in her head, as well. That also explains some of the choices that each of us has made in our attempts to deal (unsuccessfully, as you may well imagine) with intra-family stuff, too. I just never had a notion that every time she saw family stuff, she saw it from that different a perspective as I did. It explains so much. It is so simple, yet profound. How do such allegiences get generated? At what age must one declare their loyalty? For me, the loyalty has always been to my family. For my Sister, her loyalty has always been to her family. I just never had a clue that we were talking about different families! And, ya know? Once that little bomb exploded in my brain, the rest of it not only made sense, but became crystal clear to me. "I want my headstone in Erlanger, beside Mother." And, for the very first time in my life, it was a decision that made sense to me. I have my Father's name. I have my Father's looks (well, just not the hot, sexy part of his looks!) I have always had the heart of a Barton. I don't think I ever chose that, it just has always been. How many times has a puzzlement, or a ponderment been voiced by me to the Master Muddler of the Universe, only to hear "Well, Darlin', that's just the Barton in ya!" I'm not ashamed of my name, and I love all my relatives, Fields, Barton, Fitzpatrick, Adams, Campell, Royster...all of them. But, my heart wears the Tartan of the Clan. And, it just strikes me as a bit more than amazing that I should be discovering this important truth about myself, my family, and my life, today. I just never knew she didn't. And, to her credit, given her influences, and her life, she couldn't, either. Oh, I wish I had known this 50 years ago! But, sometimes, we only get the lessons we need when we are ready for them. "When the student is prepared, the Master will appear!" Mr. Miagi said it. Ralph Macchio heard it. Today, I understand it. Now, where's that paperwork? Coffee's goin', and I got a Memorial Service to create. Of all the people that I do so truly wish were here with me right now, I have been given quite a gift tonight. And, at least right now, I'm okay just being by myself. Lord, an idiot without a keeper. This Memorial Service is gonna be...memorable!! Somebody grab a net! In His Care, Budroe |
| I could write a novel, just from today. I'm not going to, but I certainly could. I think that the main reason is because I wouldn't know what to call it. Before I turn off that completely irritating reminder to update my Blog, I'm gonna update my Blog. And, you probably ain't gonna like it much. Now would be a really good time to go do somethin' else, 'cause I got a bone to pick with somebody. I'm likely to take the first warm body that comes along. That's about as fair a warning as you're likely to get in this life. The only better warning I ever heard about was the two friends who lived their entire lives living next door to each other. They had made a solemn vow that the first one to die would come back and tell the other one how it was going, good or bad. They also shared a fanatical love of Baseball. The one friend dies, and sure enough, a few days later, appears to his friend in a dream. The other friend recognizes him, and they are talking together about Heaven, and how cool it is up there. "Hey, they got baseball in Heaven?" (Yeah, I know you heard it. But, by now, you oughta know I got a twist for ya!) "Umm, about the baseball thing...." "Yeah? So, do they got baseball in Heaven, or what?" "Well, I got good news, and bad news about the whole baseball thing up here." "Well, tell me already!" "The good news is, they DO got baseball up here." "The bad news is, you're pitchin' on Friday of next week! For the other team!" Go ahead. I'll wait. Let that soak up yer brain. Let it be a Blessing for ya! So far, in the past two weeks, I have had two dear friends come to me to tell me that they were going to, in effect, remove themselves from my life. Not, mind you, by suicide. By choice. Friends. They ARE my world. They are my joy, and my happiness. Friends are, and have always been, the most important aspect of my living. My friends are my life. This is, without fear of successful contradiction, one of the most complex and difficult parts of this entire journey. I'm not going to try to handle it all here. This tirade is gonna be long enough! Not only do I have these experiences to brighten up my otherwise lack-luster week, but I discover that others in the club seem to be having like situations going on in their worlds as well. Is there some kind of freakin' virus goin' around? Is it "that time" of the disease? Lucky for me, it's my Blog, and I don't have to be rational. Or professional. Or nice, even. So, trust me when I tell ya, I ain't gonna be, neither! "I just can't deal with it!" "I can't just stand by, and watch you die!" On, and on, and on, and on. Out of only a miniscule amount of respect for anyone who was involuntarily shanghai-ed to this pity party, I will tell you that I know it is entirely possible that a reader may well be a person who, in a moment of total sadness, frustration, or an overwhelming desire to be somewhere else, doing something else, has actually said that to a patient. Well, just buckle up or bolt, buckwheat! I got a bone to pick with you, and it just ain't gonna be purty. If you are a reader who has a sudden, overwhelming urge to jump to the defense of such a person as this, I got two things for ya, and they share something in common: Don't bother! 1. Don't bother. I can explain their reasoning, and feelings, and concerns, and frustrations probably better than they can, or you could. I didn't say that I did not understand the statement. 2. Don't bother. No matter the circumstance, the situation, the mitigating factors, or the position of the stars as seen from Xenon - 9, you are gonna lose. I'm overwhelmingly sad to have to grieve the loss of two people in my world, and in my life, who have a meaning that they will never understand--obviously. For that, I am sad. I just must not have done a good enough job at letting them know just how much they mean to my life, my living--and, incidentally, my dying. This is just really not what you'd call the "appropriate moment" to discover that the definition of friendship is either limited, or conditional. (This is me, cuttin' to the chase! Just presume we HAD the conversation, okay?) I've seen Fathers walk away from Sons, marriages, families, jobs, and lives because "It was just too much to bear!" I've seen family members MOVE to different states, because they "didn't want to have to deal with this!" I've seen Mothers dying--alone--because the sad reality was a burden too large for the children, grandchildren, neices, third-cousins (twice removed, no less) to handle. I've seen beloved offspring take extended vacations in a different part of the world, with instructions to "call and let me know when it's over"! I've seen friends, torn apart with sadness and grief, withdraw from life-long pals as things got a bit dicey. There is also a reality that this, too, is part of the journey, and a part of the process. Convenience is not the trustworthy motivation, however. There is a way to withdraw (for both the patient and the friend) that can create an eternal, holy moment. There's a huge difference between one, and the other. I love my friends enough to let them go. But, you see, that's only a small degree of the love I have for my friends. I have friends, who read this Blog every day, and die with each word because they cannot physically reach me. Those same friends would, I know without doubt, willingly trade their lives for mine. To know that I am here, and in a bit of a pinch, brings them a sorrow and mind-numbing pain that borders on the incredible. I know this. I know this, because I know them. I know this, because I know that, over the course of a lifetime, they have come to know me--and love me in spite of it. Those ARE friends. Yes, there is a difference. I also know what happens well after the fact of a dearly loved friend's leaving, and moving to Heaven. I wouldn't wish that agony on my very worst enemy. For me, it is very early on this particular journey. One might say that it is better, easier, more understandable, ad nauseum that it happen now. I have friends that I love dearly who give me bucketloads of what sometimes is carried in a bucket if I don't call them every day. You see, I too have worries about such things. If you are ever called upon this journey, you will see some amazing things. You will learn some truths that you never dreamed possible. One of them is that those people whom you have shared yourself, your hopes and dreams, and your life with will not be along for the journey. I'll even give you one better than that. Ready? There are some friends that I sincerely hope do NOT accompany me on this prticular journey. I don't want them to, you see. I don't want them to see me "sick". I want them to live the lives that bring them joy, and happiness, and pleasure. One of the things that consume those of us in the club is precisely how to accomplish this very task. How do we release those whom, for whatever reason, we know cannot finish the walk with us? Do we somehow figure out a code word to let them know that this is where they must get off the path? Is there some kind of signal they can give us to understand when they are "out of gas", and just cannot humanly complete one more step? Who decides? What are the parameters, the conditions, the circumstances, or the occasions where "This is more than I can bear!" kicks in? Like I said, I understand the issues-- I sincerely promise I do. But, difficult roads have something truly amazing about them. They deliver unbelievable benefits! How do you simply stop caring about a friend? How do you turn THAT off? I cannot fathom it, quite frankly. I'm not talking about an acquaintance, or an associate--or even a family member. I'm talking about your friend. Is this a word that only I understand? "Fair-weather friends" aren't. To think otherwise is a fool's errand. I do not hold animus because you could not finish the journey with me, "friend". I am simply sad that you failed to attempt the task. I am angry with myself for having these feelings, and I am angry with you for requiring me to realize that your friendship had limits, conditions, and a breaking point. And, beyond all that, I am afraid for you. As so many have already shared, with such amazing clarity even at this early stage of the journey, there is much to consider that may have very long-term (eternal?) consequences to this choice. I know them well. I have counselled many among you who have, in my personal estimation, chosen just as poorly. "What else could I have done?" "I don't know what to do with these feelings; how do I make them go away?" "I'm so MAD at my friend for letting me go!" (How's THAT for a twist?) Families, and friendships are like a really good Chili. You just can't make a good one in a day. The flavors must meet and mingle with the spices, so that a new, and better meal can be served. It takes time. Sometimes, as a dear friend has said countless times to me, even the most difficult situation can receive benefit from "a liberal application of the Tincture of Time". Right now, it just hurts like dammit! I say this publicly, for all those who have felt this pain--on either side of this incredibly indescribable choice. Why? 1. Because I am in a really special pain place at the moment. My heart hurts. There ain't no pill to help it, no procedure to cure it, and no knife that can heal it. I must grieve the loss of two precious jewels in my Crown. I must grieve for them, and I must also grieve with them. There is a part of me that is so very angry that I could most assuredly hurt somethin'! Dammit! 2. Because for them, and for all who have ever felt this moment, there is something I can offer you which, if you will but simply accept it, will make the hurt go away, the pain stop, the tears dry up, and the sadness disappear. But, you have to accept my treatment 100%, or it will not work. What IS this medical marvel, you ask doubtfully? I forgive you. I am sad beyond words because of the choice that you have made. I forgive you for this sadness. I am angry with your choice, because it causes me to re-evaluate every single moment of our relationship. How could I possibly have NOT seen this? I forgive you for causing me the anger of this moment. I am shocked at the realization that this disease has more cost than the average human can bear. I forgive you for the shock I feel. You are so sad, and so afraid, that perhaps for the very first time since we met, you cannot look me in the face. (Funny, the three-day drunk didn't cause that reaction!) I forgive you for the shock and fear that your choice has caused in me. You spoke words that caused me the greatest pain of my life. Even as you were saying them, trying desperately to get me to understand your hopelessness, you sought to convince me to give you that which only I can give by MY choice. So, I give it to you unrequested, and unannounced. I forgive you. "I have been, am now, and will always be--your friend." ~Spock to Kirk~ "Forgive those who despise you, for my Name's sake. ~ Dad~ "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us!" ~Jesus~ Dad? I'm doin' all I know how to do, the very best I know how to do it. Please, Dad, PLEASE do what I can't. Thanks, Dad. I love You, too. Your Kid, Budroe |
I just thought I would let the friends of this Blog know that I am renewing my pledge to myself for 2007 to write more new words. Here is the latest. It is just a little writing, but it promises to be a work of interest to me. I hope you will find it interesting as well. Excuse the shameless pim...plugging of my own writing, but...
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| NOTE: This is my third attempt to make this entry. I am a bit frustrated at the moment. But, even though I may save/edit this entry in pieces (your patience is begged by this poor writer!), I will, I repeat WILL get it into the Blog. Today, I made a statement. It wasn't so much of a statement, on the first inspection. But there has been a question on my mind for almost a month. I have spent some amount of time each and every day thinking about it. I didn't really come to a sense of peace about it until this evening, after a bit of conversation with my friend Tom C. It must have been "on the brink", without my realizing it. I will try to clarify. It was actually a comment in an email from another dear friend today that moved me from consideration to the point of action. In life, things sometimes come together in a confluence. One thought here, a word there, and suddenly that which was foggy becomes clear. It's a funny thing about making statements. You sometimes do not fully realize the impact a simple word, or phrase, will have on someone else. It's a good thing to sometimes spend time considering things like statements. I have found, on my journey, that the most difficult thing sometimes is simply visiting with an idea for enough time for crystallization. We have an altogether too-quick propensity to fire words from our lips without engaging our hearts, or our brains. It is a fundamental truth of my personal Theology. I call it "The Belly Button Theology", and perhaps someday will set it down in words for your consideration. My Aunt Jena calls it "Muddling". More officially, it is called "Muddling a Ponderment". She is the world's acknowledged Master (Mistress) of same. I spent many moments of my life simply observing her muddle. At first, I misunderstood everything about muddling. People thought muddling to be a waste of time. They thought muddlers were simply souls too confused to decide. Yeah, so? We are, all of us, sometimes caught directly in the center between hopelessness and impossibility. Things confuse those of us with belly buttons. We seem to have this amazing ability to justify, after the fact, lives of "Ready! Fire! Aim!". This is, to my sick and twisted mind, the untimely effects of failing to muddle. Or, more specifically, it is a failure to fully muddle a ponderment. Tension builds as someone else patiently (or not) waits on your reply, your thoughts, and/or your decision on a puzzlement. (Yes, there's a difference!) We feel the need to respond, or act, or DO! Sometimes, the best possible course is to simply muddle. I have seen my Aunt make decisions she regretted. She has, however, not regretted the decision; only the necessity of making one. This is most often when, to those of us with a belly button, we have regrets that last the longest. This is an entirely eternal lesson (of many) that my Aunt Jena has so lovingly taught an entirely too-often unwilling student. Having fully muddled a ponderment, when my Aunt announces her position, or her decision, you can pretty much figure she ain't much movin' from it. She told me that one of the things she had learned from her Father (my Papaw) was the rule of the Carpenter: "Measure twice, cut once!" Muddlement of a ponderment is a painful process sometimes. Sometimes, you don't even get to muddle a ponderment. Sometimes, you have to start right out muddling a puzzlement. This is generally a bad thing. Puzzlements tend to be of much greater personal significance to the muddler. Ponderements are usually much more general in nature, while puzzlements are most often personal. They have personal accountability, responsibility, and are (usually) of great personal import. Lives change around puzzlements, while ponderments most often are released into the Universe for whatever discourse the Universe might someday offer. Or not. So, in truth, I've been muddlin'. It has been a ponderment, but it did (for a moment, anyway) rise to the level of a puzzlement, and that just doesn't happen nearly so often in my world. I am pretty much convinced it virtually never happened in my Aunt's world. She very seldom mis-identified a ponderment, much less a puzzlement. But then, she IS the master muddler, ya see, in a family of muddlers. Such an indiscretion would not be seemly for one of my Aunt's stature and status amongst the muddlers of the World. What, you didn't know? Oh, yeah! They got a Society, with occifers n everthin'! No, REALLY! I've seen th' stiff-tickets n everthin'! My membership on this site officially expired a couple days ago. Thanks to an as-yet unknown Angel, my membership had been gifted an upgrade, so I didn't lose the work. That was, in itself, a ponderment. Why? I am so grateful that one (or more) special person thought my work sufficient for such love. One thing that has come as a complete surprise to me since I joined this site a few months ago has been the love shared here. Writers? Whodathunkit! It isn't (at least at this given moment) about the money, or the cost. That is, in itself, a powerful consideration in my world. The few duckets in my pocket must last a very long time, and the Austerity program is in full swing at Chateau de Budroe. Years could transpire before disability determination. The current thinking is that anything involving years is, at best, an outside dark horse bet. Membership expiring has caused me to consider. Are you beginning to see the puzzlement? To make a statement of renewal of my membership here causes me to extend my thinking a bit. But, for everyone on this particular journey, thinking beyond today is a risk. As my friend and Warrior Princess will readily attest, thinking about tomorrow can be very scarey. Of course, she is celebrating a birth day today that few expected. She will be back in school this week. How's that for a statement? Mine won't let me in, and hers can't keep her out! For the Cancer patient, thinking of too many tomorrows can be the cause of the greatest pain and sadness. I haven't had too many moments of this yet, but I have had a few. "Next" celebrations of any kind are, at best, a maybe. They are just a part of all the "maybe" moments of this disease. We tend to resent "maybe" moments. Sometimes, we even resent those who present them to us. A lot. It is terribly difficult a feeling to attempt to explain to someone else. We all tend to handle them differently. Wounded and used up, we tend to be a lot more out of "suck-it-up" than the average bear, you see. We have a tendency toward realism, but not your average, run-of-the-mill realism. We sometimes convince ourselves that our realism (with perhaps just a light dusting of fatalism--for the sake of our own palate, mind you) IS reality. Our minds become attuned to the worst scenario, and push out lesser alternatives. We look more towards Home, and the other shore. It's truly imperative that we do so, for our own mental stability. I know that sounds completely contradictory, but it isn't. We are the ones staring down the barrels. We don't know when the trigger will be pulled. We look for the flinching of muscles, the tightening of tendons--any possible tell-tale signs that will help us accept the inevitable. It's just the way of it on this journey, friends. I said early on that I do like to know whose finger is on the trigger, remember? Well, that's why. So, when I was considering the renewal of my membership, there was a lot going through my mind. Going directly against the prevailing thought would be percieved as escapism, or at worst folly. To the Warriors among us, not renewing would be a symbol of retreat at best, or at worst defeat and surrender. That is NOT the Warrior way. And, of all the warriors of all the battles, in the truest tradition, one just simply does not battle for the same real estate twice. Or three times, or more. That is a truth that many Veteran brothers and sisters will discuss with much enmity. So, the ponderment has been one that would seem simple, but one which could easily to the level of puzzlement if I were not careful. I was not careful--or at least careful enough. I am really relatively new upon this journey, and I am aware of this. But, as I stated at the beginning, my goal is honesty, and therapy at each step along the journey. Please understand my position here. I ask nothing of myself here, or anyone who may read these words after they are written, except the most honest portrayal of the journey through the valley. This ponderment is, to the Cancer patient, one which can spiral out of all proportion and control in the merest blink of it, the eyeball! How many things do you renew? Driver's Licenses, magazines, (snicker) Health Club Memberships? Dues to organizations, professional affiliations, clubs, and even websites are all renewals that must be considered. Do I actually believe that it would be worth the money to renew my Reader's Digest subscription? This is a magazine that I have read virtually every month of my life since I used them to learn to read! Isn't renewal just a bit over-the-top? How realistic is that? And what kind of a statement does it make, and to whom? I've had to visit my purpose in being here. I am a writer. Writers write, every day. Hopefully, we learn along the way to become better at our craft. Today, I learned that this little Blog was ranked at #106. 90% of those Blogs ranked "higher" had hundreds more entries than this one. They have been in existence for years. Some writers even "double-lapped" me, coming in ahead of this work with more than one Blog! How depressing is that? And, that is when it became crystal clear to me. I knew the answer to my puzzlement, and the ponderment lined itself up neatly in a row, waiting for my lead. I renewed my membership--for a year. That's really too bad, because I got a little miffed when I didn't find a five-year, or a ten year option. Disregarding the prohibitive costs, I would have probably at least considered the options as a ponderment. Okay, perhaps the thought would have risen to the exalted level of a puzzlement--for a moment, anyway. A couple of really dear friends spent a moment of their lives reminding me very gently that I still have one, and I have the responsibility, the obligation, the privilege, and the opportunity to live it. I would mourn the issue of Reader's Digest that doesn't come. I will not mourn the issue that arrives after I'm Home. That is the ponderment that has taken my time lately. I remembered who I am. I remembered whose I am. I remembered that there is, for no one, a second opportunity to live a day in life. And, only as in the truest nature of a true muddler, when the ponderment untangled itself, the decision was immediately made, with no regret. And, I've got to tell you honestly, I don't regret having made it. I don't regret the ponderment of it, or the puzzlement. I arrived on the other side of it, with some really caring love from others, in a much different place than where it began. The confusion left me as a fog burning off the bog, and the way was clear. And, perhaps if only for myself, it was a statement that I truly need to make. I made it. Dad brought this Blog to life, even as He brought me into existence. My writing, all of it, does not belong to me. I have nothing--NOTHING, to gain or lose from it, so long as I am honest in the attempt. Simply being on the list, regardless of the position on it, IS the blessing. I am grateful beyond my ability to express, for this opportunity to write words that may, some day, matter. To see the reactions, and response, and sharing of so many who just love around here IS the Blessing. And, like a good muddle, there is something to learn from that truth. Time is not mine. What I do with it is. Life is not about what you get in life. Life is about what you do with what you get in life. And, sometimes in life, the most important thing you can do is to make a statement. You sometimes must stand for something, at the risk of falling for anything. As so many honorable Warriors have said before me, and probably to me: "I may have this disease, but this disease does NOT have me!" There's a big difference between whistling in the dark, and singing in the rain. Sometimes, the most common truth of the most important muddlements comes through in the most surprising places: inside yourself. And, the only way to get beyond any tough thing in this life is to get through it. And, sometimes, the only way to do that is to speak to it. Make a statement! "Fix your gaze directly before you, looking neither to the right or the left!" That comes from The Directions, in the Book of Proverbs. That's not exactly the way I wanted to wake up this morning, but it IS what I read. Make a statement! Make a statement that matters! So I did. I don't regret it. In His Care, Budroe |
| I will write an entry soon. I apologize for the seeming lack of attention to the Blog. But, at least for the moment, I would ask you to do me a favor and run over to my pal winter Blog and wish her a very happy Birth Day, A very special Happy Birth Day, Warrior Princess. I love you. Congratulations on this very special day. I hope you will treat it like you own it. Oh, wait. You DO! Thank you for the blessings of each and every day along the journey. May we walk many miles together. May Dad give you the Blessings of your heart, today, and tomorrow, and.... In His Care, Budroe |
| I am home. I have been home for a couple of days. In this very Blog, I have said that there is no such thing as a "Top" without a "Bottom" on this journey. Cancer Patients know both, intimately. From the desperation of fighting literally for the next breath, to the joy of a "good" day, or a stable remission (YAY, Raven!), there seems to be a never-ending kalidascope of emotions which must be dealt with--sometimes moment-by-moment. I cannot tell you what a Blessing it was to visit my dear friends in Southern Illinois. I slept as long as I wanted (or until Feester decided it was time for me to be up and about), I was cared for by two of the most irrepressibly happy and easy-going people on this or any other planet, and my time was spent just BEING me. I could not have gotten more benefit had I been ensconced in a Spa. The food was terrific. The fellowship was enough for a lifetime. The atmosphere was one of peace--even while difficult things were openly, frankly, and lovingly discussed. I even got to, in a very small and limited way, offer some help to them with their new computer systems. Oh, that it had only been as easy at MY house. Because of the then-impending weather, and because of appointments I have had to deal with here, I had to return home. But, as Ecclesiastes says, "There is a time unto every purpose under Heaven". As wonderful as it was, it was time. And, after all the added stress and consideration involved when you have company, it was time for my friends to regain their lives and their peace, as well. My homecoming was one which included, incidentally the transport of my new kitchen table, a gift from my friends. No, I did not have one. I keep trying to explain to you that mine is a VERY small abode. Well, not only do I have a "new" kitchen table, but some very hot linens to accompany same. I have a place to eat my meals. I looked as hard as I could, but it seems that the cook and dishwasher attachments were, sadly, left somewhere else! <sigh> This is my first communication on the new, and now completely functioning computer. Two days of extreme frustration have been rewarded, and all by one, ONE phone call to a tech support specialist at my ISP. Yes, it DOES seem as though the Ice Storm affected their ability to deliver their product. It never WAS my computer! Grrrrrrrr. At the moment, however, it does seem as though it is running as it should. As the Warrior Princess says, sometimes we just "have a fit, and fall in it". Yeah, well, I got one better. I've just spent the last two days (12 weeks away from his Doctorate in IT, no less) trying to get a system (PC) to operate. I had a fit, fell in it, and pulled the hole in after me! My thinking these past two days has never risen above the netherworld. I am not about to allow a piece of machinery to cause the peace, comfort, and joy I have felt earlier to evaporate. Nerf bricks are not only handy devices, but (so far as I am concerned) mandatory peripherals to any computer. Mine is looking rather shabby at the moment. It has seen a lot of service in the past two days. I can report to you that it tastes really rather strange, and the pieces do not swallow well. There are brick marks on my very sexy new monitor (which also seems to have been shipped without the "incredibly impressive word generator option". But then, the bottom half of the back of the tower is missing, as well,so I should not be unduly surprised. The system works, and for now that is sufficient. I hope that, through this system, a dream will be realized, and perhaps even a life or two may be positively affected. Because, you can believe me when I tell you, after all THIS, there WILL be something very, very good to come from it. That's just the way it is for those of us in the club. And, sometimes, even for those who give so very much of themselves for us. Tops, and bottoms. The living of life includes both. The trick is to hit the average above the average. Sometimes, that is very difficult. Sometimes it is less difficult. But it is always possible,and it is defitely always worth it. In His Care, Budroe |
| normal people live. I have been, for the greater part of this day, attended by, of all things, a cat. Surprising my friends beyond words, their "psycho" kitty seems to have adopted me, and has not been further away than my hand all day long. "Feester" is a wonderful animal, who lives a very difficult life (yeah! Uh-huh!) in the luxury of two trained people who love to live for her. Well, she IS a cat. She tells me that she agrees with this assessment completely by lying in my lap ("I've never seen that cat DO that before!") and permitting me to gently scratch her back, purring like a Lotus in idle. Difficult at times to hear, but never difficult to feel under my fingers. Snow, rain, sleet and wind today, with a healthy dose of sunshine streaming in through the study windows to brighten up the day. Dinner this evening with some new friends, as well as old. I had a most enjoyable time. I am feeling safe today. Perhaps it is the 24 hours of adjustment. Perhaps it is the loving ministrations of my friends to my every need. Personally, I just think it is a very strange relationship with a very, VERY therapeutic kitty named Feester. I believe I will be returning home tomorrow evening. As of today, my home computer is kaput. Another, thanks to the kindness of my friend Tom, is being rushed to my home, and should be there tomorrow. He will be waiting to accept it, and it should be up and running by the time I return home. The "old" computer will be overhauled, new parts added, and the new tower will be added to the new tower for a network computing solution. Tom will make it happen, because, among other things, that is what Tom does professionally. He is also my friend, and will not allow me to be sans communication. He seems to know how very important that is to me. For someone pending multiple disc back surgery, I'd say that's a pretty strong commitment. I have already discussed the situation with Feester, who regrets that, although the notion of visiting my home strongly appeals to her, she DOES have to humans to care for here. But, she has already promised to be here for my next (?) visit. Difficult, but acceptable. It has been a very nice visit, with new friends made, and old friendships renewed and expanded. I'm not able to definitively measure, but I would say my PHT is down a few floors! Going home is filled with mixed emotions. I can definitely relax when I get home. But, caring for myself, while easier and more relaxed, is also more difficult because I must usually commit, moment by moment to each small step along the journey that makes my being home possible in the first place. Food, drugs, appointments, rest, exercise, and relaxation are the important points of attack for me right now. The plan calls for a hospitalization possible on the 17th of this month. I hope things will be prepared by then, and we can get to the business of a real battle plan. My "doing something" does still, to the largest possible extent, involve XBOX, writing, and slow deep breaths. Not a huge demand, but sometimes requiring a huge effort on my part. I must keep the goal in front of me, and not allow frustration, anger, sadness, or ugliness to invade my peace. I am not, by definition, a cat person. We can all change. This is definitely a therapy cat. She likes me. I like it that she likes me. We get along. In His Care, Budroe |
| So far, this weekend goes well. Some dear friends have descended upon my humble abode, and it feels like a house full--but it is! The place feels like life is going on here, and that is very nice for a change of pace. They have been entertained, and have been very entertaining, as well. But, then they are good friends, and my time together with them has always been fun, and easy. There is a "Pencil-only" plan to travel back with them to Southern Illinois tomorrow, and back on Tuesday nite. The first mention of such an idea (theirs, entirely) had a most interesting effect on me. Fear. Dare I leave the immediacy of the nearby medical facility? What would I do if I really needed Dudette? It was a very uncomfortable feeling. It also showed me how very much like a sick person I am living these days. I do not care for that--at all. I am to talk to Dudette again tomorrow, and see just exactly where we are in getting the repeat Colonoscopy and stuff done. In all likelihood, that is going to take an admission. We've talked (purely at my insistence) about not being admitted. But, in a ploy that I thought only I used, Dudette FINALLY explained some of the concerns she has, gave me the options, then just simply made every one (except the one SHE wanted) seem illogical. Now, the holdup is the other folks' schedule for the inpatient procedures. I went to the lab tonight for my weekly "Drac" fix, and after an entirely unreasonable wait (about 5 minutes) one of my favorite Lab Techs showed up, saw me, and broke out in a huge grin. His name is Levi, and he is just very, very cool. I told him "Hello!" He recognized me immediately, and with a smile told me (by name, mind you) that he was happy to see me, and that he was keeping me in his prayers. That's not exactly the way most people say hello, now is it? I wonder why? I know it sure made me feel good. This guy probably sees over 100 patients each day, yet he remembers me. And, I did believe he was telling me the truth when he said that he was keeping me in his prayers. If Dudette doesn't fall in a hole in the ground tomorrow, I will probably go to Southern Illinois with my friends, and back here the following day. Somehow, the idea of getting away from here for even just a minute appeals to me. There is a sense of the need to live within me. I mean, there is a realization that I haven't been fully engaged in the daily activity of living for months now. That is not my norm. If this is, in fact, a battle for the quality of my days, then I should find the most quality in every single day, right? So what if I'm not (fill in activity of your choice here), I can certainly still (fill in alternate activity here), can't I? I can't put Dudette, or Levi, or the Hospital on a leash and that them with me. But, I can surely put this disease on pause for a couple of days. And, I'd better be doing that now, while I can. I hope Dudette agrees with me. Either way, she wins, and she knows it. After all the hoopla, she's the only Doc I want near me. She likes that about me. Win/Win. In the meantime, I'm gonna eat Chinese, listen to some tunes, and just BE with some dear friends. How much more quality can one guy handle, anyway? In His Care, Budroe |
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