Thursday, March 27, 2014

Yourself, in third person

I’m sitting in the glider rocking chair in my living room, gliding back and forth, attempting to focus on my student’s papers.  I’m on the 26th paper… all about the same case study.  Something about a 45 year old woman who injured her knee while she was playing kickball with her 4th grade students during recess…And I read all about the injury and circumstances surrounding it – all 26 times.  I read about her past medical history, her family history, her review of systems…. And on and on and on.

And the phone (thankfully!) interrupts my work.  “Hey Chris, it’s Kathy. “  “Are you up to going to a CEU presentation?  Dr. Ch. is presenting a talk on HER2 positive breast cancer – neoadjuvant therapy.  It starts at noon.”   It’s 10:45.

Hmmm… I think.  Well, I know a little bit about this subject….and I always need CEUs – and free ones are always a plus.  Besides, it might be nice to learn more about what my oncologist knows about my cancer.  So since I was already showered.  I figured, “why not?”  Mind you, it took me twenty minutes of rumination for me to come to that conclusion though.

I throw my wig on and then zip through town racing to get there on time.  And thankfully find a parking spot right at the front door.  Kathy greets me as soon as I’m in the building.  We sign in and she grabs the catered lunch.  I grab a Sierra Mist for sipping as Thursdays I don’t usually eat much.  Frankly, Thursdays I don’t usually do much of anything.  It’s a wonder I’m even out of the house.

I see Dr. Ch. and several of her nursing staff.  A couple of the nurses actually recognize me.  Sheila the NP greets me and then beelines her way to Dr. Ch. in the front of the room.  Kathy whispers, “Do you think she’s telling her you’re here?”  And I wonder the same thing..…or perhaps I’m being too overly self-centric here…

The presentation begins and the first slide starts out with… “51 year old patient” And I almost spit my soda out and up through my nose.  And all I could think about was that this was going to be a case study presentation of a HER2 positive breast cancer patient related to neoadjuvant therapy – and I was the case study! (Pretty certain there was some breach of HIPAA here).

It was hard to look at the “case” objectively.  Dispassionately.  To hear the facts without the emotions and experience behind them.  Their implications.  Their life altering projections.   I found I could only look at the slides.  I couldn't look at Dr. Ch.  My poor friend Kathy I think, may have been even more uncomfortable then I was.  “Do you want to leave?” she asked.  “No, it’s OK.”  I’m thinking, perhaps I will learn something here?

I didn’t learn anything.

Well that’s not true. 

I learned that radiation oncologists don’t know what to do if the neoadjuvant therapy actually works.  And I learned…ah, what did I learn?  That it is weird being talked about in the third person when one is sitting right there.  

I learned that the dispassionate facts are just that.  Dispassionate - without passion.  Without person.  Without presence.  So what’s it all about?  (And what is “it”?)

It’s about being present.  About being there.  About experiencing and doing the experience deeply.   It’s about embracing life and all that comes with it – the easy road and the hard.  It’s about holding on to the Grace of Jesus in order to experience, to live, with a hope of joy.  It’s about community and serving.  It’s about thankfulness. It’s about loving deeply and serving with abandon.  It's about forgiveness and grace.  It’s about being rightly focused.  Not self-focused – even though this trek makes one have to be more self-aware. Yet more aware of the Road, full of grace.

Today’s Journey Joys: On a Journey, there are times when one seems alone.  But there are other times when folks, dear folks, walk along side…if even for a short while…. and make the steep jagged road passable.  Or at least make it seem a little more doable.  I am thankful for those who are traveling (if only for a brief period of time) with me on this breast cancer journey:  Dr. Ch., Sheila, Faith, Julie, Lori and others – from my oncologist office.  I am thankful for their perseverance, their hope, smiles, expertise, and encouragement.   

Melancholy

I shouldn't write when I'm feeling like this.  Emotionally fragile and oscillating between tears, fears, and frustration.  Yet ...