On the Threshold

Tomorrow is the Sunday of the Passion or Palm Sunday. On this Sunday one of the Passion Gospels is read, either Matthew (last year), Mark (this year), or Luke (next year) and the cycle is then repeated. Additionally on Good Friday the Passion according to John is always read. ¶ When the lectionary was revised following Vatican II, this plan was developed. Up until then Matthew was always read on Sunday and Mark and Luke were read on the weekdays. That’s probably the reason that J.S.Bach, whose birthday was last Sunday, composed the St. Matthew Passion and the St. John Passion and skipped the other two. It was his job to provide music for the Sundays and great commemorations of the Church Year, not for weekdays. ¶ One of the highlights of Holy Week for me has always been to participate in the chanting of the Passion Gospel. Last year it was not possible because of COVID. This year it is not possible because we are still not singing in church. I miss it. Perhaps next year…

¶ Way, way back in the history of this blog I mentioned that travel/pilgrimage always precipitates a change in the pilgrim/traveler. This continues to surprise me. ¶ Several years ago I made a trip with a tour group to Croatia and Slovenia. The tour was very well managed and I met some interesting persons. One of those travelers is not able to speak or hear. He is an artist. During his career he illustrated children’s books for a major publisher. After he retired he moved from New York City to Chicago. He did have some good friends there otherwise I could not imagine how difficult it would be for him. ¶ My friend was treated for prostate cancer a few years after my treatment. He consulted me several times about his options and what might be best for him. After some 15 years, he still keeps in touch. It’s always good to hear from him. My birthday occurred during the trip I mentioned and he drew a birthday card for me. It was a small but memorable gift that I’ve kept all these years (15+). I’d never had a friend before who had this disability. He does not see is inability to speak and hear as a disability. His career was successful and he still does some freelance work. For me he is an example of perseverance and talent. ¶ This past week was chemo week so I’m a little tired today. Excessively cloudy weather during the past week hasn’t helped my energy level a lot. There have been no side-effects that I’ve noticed from last week’s excursion into the Gamma Knife machine. I followed the directions and removed the bandages when told to do so. The sites on the back of my head still hurt to the touch. I have an appointment with the radiation oncologist (AKA Erik the Red) in the middle of April. I won’t expect any extraordinary news because I won’t have an MRI before seeing him. ¶ I think Sophia and I may suffer from the same malady. On cloudy days she seems to sleep much more than normal. She has no problem sleeping at any

time. She can spot a few of her wild life friends from the living room window and she is anxiously awaiting the return of the birds. Hopefully they realize they are safe because she is restrained by the screens and windows. ¶ The daffodils continue their relentless trip out of the soil. No blooms yet but they are certainly pushing their way upward. ¶ We will celebrate the Great Three Days this week with some of the earliest liturgies of the church that have continued in use for 1700 years or so. The pilgrim Egeria wrote a travel “blog” in the fourth century in which she describes the liturgies of Holy Week. As one reads that diary it is amazing that those liturgies have changed but a very little in the 21st century. ¶ I hope and pray you have a blessed Holy Week. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your prayers and thoughts for me. I’m doing well thanks to you and to all the doctors and nurses that care for me.

Well, That’s Over!

As promised last week here is the report on this week’s exciting adventure. ¶ Thursday was the appointed day for the hi-def MRI at 7:15 in the AM. I was a little early but there was still reception area time. This MRI seemed shorter than the others and considerable shorter than last week’s 1.5 hour marathon. ¶ Since my port was already accessed, with difficulty, I decided to head on over to the Cancer Center for my blood draw. The difficulty was that there was no blood return to begin with. Raising my arms had no benefit. I finally had to go prone and the blood reluctantly began to flow. That’s only the second time this has happened in 1.5 years, so I guess that’s really pretty good. ¶ Returning in the afternoon for my appointment with the radiation oncologist I received the news that the larger lesion had not grown but they found three more tiny spots that may or may not be cancer so they would “zap” those while they were at it just to make sure. After promising, rather profoundly, to eat or drink nothing after midnight I was dismissed until Friday.

¶ My friend picked me up at 6:55 AM for the quick trip to the Cancer Center. When the lights came on in the department we headed in and were greeted by the first of three nurses that would be a part of the procedure. My port was accessed and behaved itself this time. My head was prepped and the metal frame attached by the neuroradiologist. I was given some topical anesthesia and another IV drug which relaxed me a little, but not much. I really didn’t feel the bolts until they were removed. Then the medical physicist plopped a clear plastic dome over my head and inserted a measuring device through several holes. The radiation oncologist dropped in to welcome me and explain that the “team” would meet right after my CT scan to formulate the “plan.”

¶ I was wheeled off to the CT scan machine and spent a short time there, and then returned to my cozy room. After the “plan” had been confected, off I went again, this time to the real thing, the Gamma Knife room replete with all kinds of warning signs about radioactivity, etc. My head was clamped to the table and I received the cheery news that I would be in the machine for about an hour and what kind of music would I like? I asked for classical and ended up with instrumental Broadway. Some of the tunes I actually recognized! At this point, who cares. The machine was blessedly silent and I felt nothing. Following the hour’s session, the announcement was made that my head had to be tilted a little for the remaining 15 minutes. They forget to mention this before or just didn’t. I would estimate that my head was raised about 20º or so, just enough that breathing was difficult. The doctor was kind enough to remind me of the number of minutes remaining until the procedure was complete. ¶ Off I was wheeled once again to my cozy room for the removal of the frame. That’s when the pain began. It wasn’t awful but it was uncomfortable. I was given a couple of Tylenol and had bandages fixed to the four “bolt” holes. Then my head was swathed in gauze and I was dismissed. I had no problems after my return home and there was no further pain. Excellent. ¶ The week, weatherize, was interesting with some days of heavy, wet snow, and then the warming trend began for which we are all grateful. I would call your attention to the picture of the whirligig on the deck which refused to do its thing for a couple of days.

¶ After flipping though some pictures of my Egyptian trip on the computer, Sophia concluded that she would be a worthy replacement for the Sphinx should the need arise. I tried to convince her that she is big but not that big. She thought from the picture they would be about the same size. It’s hard to argue with a cat who really has no concept of the difference between a photo and the real thing. ¶ That about sums up the week of the Gamma Knife. One assumes that everything was successful, but we won’t know for sure until the next MRI which is set for some time in the future.

¶ Once again I am so grateful for all of your prayers and the messages that I’ve received in the post and by email. All are precious and I hold you near and dear to my heart. ¶ I believe spring officially begins this weekend. Although the season is a mixed bag in South Dakota we welcome it. The daffodils are peeking through the ground and will persevere no matter the weather. They are an example for us all.

Victory!

Last week’s blog ended with “only one day spent in a waiting room.” That is exactly what happened. I needed to check in at the Speciality Hospital at 7:45 so I was up bright and early. Breakfast having been consumed I set out for the southwest. When one isn’t required to be at a certain location daily, such as for work, one forgets that other people must get to their employment. I am amazed at the number of people on the street between 7:00 and 8:00. My house is near a major artery for the traffic not only from this side of the city but the towns east of here in South Dakota, Minnesota, and Iowa many of whom are employed here. Sometimes the smallest things make one grateful. That morning I was grateful that my trips at that hour are few and far between. ¶ Arrival at the hospital was at 7:44. As mentioned previously traffic was not taken into account when departure time was established. The desk clerk in the radiation division said “You’ll be here for awhile!” The oncologist had said that this spinal MRI would take longer than the brain and brain-stem MRI. I didn’t have to wait long before the nurse came to access my port and deliver me to the MRI tech. He informed that this was a new machine and had better magnets and was, therefore, noisier than one I may have encountered previously. That, at least, gave me something to ponder whilst undergoing the procedure.

¶ For those who have not suffered the delight of an MRI, one is inserted into the tunnel-like machine after being told to remain perfectly still. Earplugs, sponges over the ear and clamps over the sponges are supposed to mitigate some of the racket. Then the racket begins and that really is the best description. There is such a collection of banging, buzzing, clattering noises it’s really unbelievable. Let’s just imagine 30 kindergarten students in a closed room being provided with pots and pans and hammers and told to have a good time. That comes close to the experience. Oh, by the way, you are in the room with the aforementioned kindergartners. ¶ One and one-half hours later I was withdrawn from the machine. The process was complete, thank God! I would get the results in a couple of days. My oncologist’s office called that afternoon and announced that my spine and spinal fluid were cancer free. Hallelujah! First victory of the week. That was a truly great relief. I think one doesn’t realize how much something like this weighs upon one until the results are in and relaxation can begin. ¶ The next thing on the agenda is the Gamma Knife procedure next Friday at 7:30. This is preceded on Thursday by yet another MRI. This will be of the brain and brain stem and will not take as long as last week’s, one sincerely hopes. By next Friday afternoon the lesion in my brain will have been zapped and I begin my regular round of chemotherapy the following week. This takes place at the Prairie Center. When it was constructed a few years ago it was proclaimed the most expensive building ever in Sioux Falls, and perhaps the state. It is state of the art in every sense with its mission of integrated healing and first rate doctors and nurses. It is also beautiful. When waiting for the arrival of medical professionals in a rather barren little exam room somethings will strike you funny. Here, in this expensive, state-of-the-art facility is the door stop, an item that amused me greatly.

¶ Other than a few OLLI classes and my usual volunteer position on Friday morning the week has been uneventful. Have great things been accomplished? No. Has it been a relaxing week after Monday? Yes. ¶ The “cat puzzle” has been completed, finally. I will concede that it was difficult. I don’t really know why but I think it has to do with the interesting shapes of the pieces and the supposition that realistic pieces should fit in as they look properly orientated. One discovers this is not the case so it’s a different thinking method that must be employed. Will I do another one? Not right now, anyway. That is victory number two of the week. ¶ Ann Patchett writes an article entitled “How to Practice” in the most recent New Yorker Magazine.” It has to do with “stuff.” One of her friend’s father had died and she had assisted her friend with cleaning out his house. That inspired her to clean out her own house. I’m trying to convince myself that I should be likewise inspired to clean out my house. I have so much warehoused for which there is no discernible need, anymore. In years past I was a fairly regular entertainer. I enjoy cooking for others. Several groups of people from my former parish would gather at my home periodically. I did need quite a few dishes, glasses, napkins, serving dishes, etc. The question now is, do I still need them? Probably not. Should I be providing the annual church rummage sale with a plethora of items needed no longer in this house? Probably should. Will the task be completed? That would be another victory. I may report in the future. If you hear nothing you can assume the clean out has not happened, yet. But, I’ll be thinking about it. ¶ It appears that I am not the only one who practices the piano in this house!

¶ I’m grateful for all the friends who have offered to accompany me to the Knife procedure. Your willingness is appreciated more than I can say. I am truly grateful for all of your thoughts and prayers. They uphold me constantly.

The Week Spent Sitting

This week was the week of sitting around medical professionals’ offices. I used to wonder why elderly people spent so much time in medical waiting rooms. Now I know! ¶ Monday was a long day beginning at 7 AM with CT scan and MRI. That always involves biding one’s time in the waiting room for an hour whilst consuming two bottles of water with something in it. So, by the time the scans were finished it was after 9. Since I was on the hospital campus I thought it a good time to stroll over to the billing office to get information for my AFLAC claim. I had a 30 minute wait for the billing person to finish with another person. ¶ Finally ran home for breakfast at 10:30. Then it was back to the campus to the Cancer Center for blood draw in the lab. The Imaging Center drew six vials earlier in the day and the lab drew four more. I thought I’d not have much blood left when they finished. I had lunch at the restaurant there and then off to see the doctor. One must check in 30 minutes early according to the instructions. I have no idea what that is all about because the doctor is usually 30 minutes late. ¶ The doctor had the usual good news from the CT scan. In other words, the lesions had not enlarged. Then we launched into the MRI. This was of the brain and brain stem. The spot that was discovered last time had enlarged. This meant that cancer was present in the brain. There was still only one spot but it was twice the size as last time. ¶ Time was spent at the scheduling desk and then at the infusion so it was 4 PM when I headed home. The day was written off as a “medical” day.

¶ Aside from the infusions every day, it was on Wednesday that I had an appointment with the radiation oncologist. From his name he is obviously Scandinavian in heritage. With his long red hair and full beard I’ve bestowed on him the nickname of “Erik the Red.” His name is not Erik but that’s beside the point. ¶ He explained the treatment I would receive which is called “Gamma Knife.” After yet another MRI the lesion would be pin-pointed, then my head encased in a metal cage with something like screws, no less, and I will be inserted in a machine which will precisely zap the lesion. “Erik” is confident that I will need only one treatment. The professionals will see to it that I am given something to relax me. That will be nice. ¶ The “team” for this procedure will be a radiation oncologist, a neurosurgeon, a neuroradiologist, a registered nurse, and a medical physicist. Oh, and I guess I’ll need to be there as well. ¶ The upshot is that on Monday I will have a spinal MRI to determine if there are cancer cells in the spinal fluid. Then the next week the more precise MRI will happen on Thursday, with another CT scan before the procedure on Friday, the 19th. All this sounds like more fun than I ever intended to enjoy in the month of March! Now you know everything that I know. ¶ Not a lot of progress has been made on the cat puzzle. Most nights I’ve been too tired from the activities of the day. I’ve also found, just like the children I used to teach, that if something is too hard I lose interest rapidly. Progress will continue until the thing is conquered.

¶ The governor of South Dakota has channeled nearly six hundred thousand dollars to her family’s business. This is from the COVID relief money she still has not spent on the people of South Dakota. One would think since we have the poorest county in the country that a dollar or two could be sent in that direction. Evidently that is not within the realm of possibility. So that brings the total that the relatives have garnered from the government close to four million, or is it five. I’ve lost track. She’ll soon be traveling to Florida where an ex-president is hosting a fund raiser for her campaign chest. It already contains a million or more. How much can one possibly spend campaigning in South Dakota where the one and only requirement for election is being a member of a certain political party. ¶ A friend has reported the appearance of daffodils and other early bloomers in his garden. That is a lovely harbinger of spring. It is not going to reach our predicted high of 60º today. It’s currently standing at 55º. Nice enough but with the breeze there is still a chill in the air. ¶ I continue to be upheld by your thoughts and prayers. Thank you so much. I’ll get back to you next week after, I hope, only one day spent in a waiting room.