Sorry Me Tears

In three hours, MD Anderson’s Interventional Radiology department will start the biopsy of my liver and intrahepatic bile duct.  Yesterday evening I drifted off to sleep with a bright internal smile created by the emails from my healing circle friends sending me lots of love.  Waking early, I thought about this past Saturday and the “sorry me” tears I had felt as I left Walmart with the chair I had bought for my shower.  Months ago, I started drying off, brushing my teeth and putting my suntan lotion on sitting down, for I didn’t have the morning strength to stand that long.  I am now in a place I know it would be safer for me to sit in the shower. 

Sunday, I sat on our lake house pier to watch the sunrise.  It was a perfect morning with the trees silhouetted on the glass-covered lake reflecting the pale blush of morning.  In a blink, it was over as the soft pink blush was swallowed up by the ocean blue sky, and the silhouetted trees slowly turned green.  For a few minutes, I once again fought back the “sorry me” tears thinking about how fast life had been.  As I watched the bold greens of the trees return, I realized how grateful I was to my mom who had taught me early in life to be present for those brief moments that never will be again.  A gift from my mom painted on my soul forever given to all of you today.  What will you do with my gift tomorrow?

Be Well bill – Retirement

Be Well bill – Retirement

It was Christmas eve when I realized I did not have a present for my mom.  She’d been sick, and my denial as a 10-year-old kid that I was so scared every time my dad tried to explain my mom’s cancer that I’d do my best to live in my own little make-believe world.  A world where I’d forgotten about Christmas.  My mother and I enjoyed doing flower arrangement with candles, so that night before my dad put me to bed I worked on decorating a candle for my mother’s Christmas present.  Sleep didn’t come easy, for even at ten-years-old I realized my make-believe world had kept me from giving and receiving my families love, and I so missed the specialness of my mom.  This experience slowly woke within me the need to fully feel life, and over the next eight years I practiced channeling and sharing my feelings with my mom and special people in my life through my poetry and writing.  A practice I continue today. 

Friday, I met with my oncologist to review bone and body scans completed last week.  Looking at the scans it was clear that much of my cancer has remained somewhat stable with tumors shrinking and others growing, but two new lesions appeared in my liver.   Living a metastatic cancer journey, I knew there was always the opportunity that someday my cancer would reach a major organ, but that little ten-year-old scared kid and his safe make-believe world is long gone.  Those of you, who know me well, know my life has always been about possibilities.  Possibilities that explode from the Airborne Ranger deep within me driven by life’s challenges, and the poet that fully feels fear, anger, frustration, happiness, and the love that accompanies life. 

Sunday, as MaryBeth drove us home from the lake house, I looked back and watched the sunset through the side mirror, and was in awe of life’s possibilities.  We decided this weekend I would retire from MD Anderson in January 2017 and begin a new life chapter of possibilities with all of you.        

Spirit Coach

When he walked in, I was sitting by Aurora’s desk talking to Ann.  We hadn’t seen each other for weeks, but I instantly felt the spirit of our comradery return, and I rose for a hug.  He was dressed impeccably, with a blue houndstooth dress shirt and bold tie.  After our hug I sat back down, he asked me “How are you doing?” and I said, “I’m doing okay.”  His reaction was immediate, he raised his finger and pointed it directly at my heart, “You are doing better than just okay, you are doing GREAT!” 

All of us in our life journeys have had spirit coaches who with a few words or a look transform us into who we are to become.  My dad and I didn’t really get close until the end of his life, but throughout our life together he’d give me strength in weak moments, by just placing his hands on my shoulders.  I worked my way through undergraduate school as the head manager of the LSU football team, working for Coach Charlie McClendon.  Coach Mac had a way of bringing the best out of all of us as individuals and as a team.  In the Army, I had a First Sergeant that held me steady through several violent deaths, engaging me to remain a courageous, confident commander

As Craig put his finger down, I stood and said, “Thanks, Craig I needed that!”  Every day each of us has multiple opportunities to be a spirit coach and transform someone by a few words or a look into who they are to become.  Become a spirit coach today. 

Learning to Hang Out

Last week on several days, I put in too many hours at MD Anderson, which meant on those days and the day after; I didn’t have the energy for a real life after work.  This week, I’ve paced myself better and my life after work has brought more shared time for MaryBeth, me and Auggie to just hang out.  Dealing with the fatigue of cancer is a slow learn and very frustrating.  I have strong memories of my mom’s long struggle with cancer and her return from multiple surgeries where she would tell my dad, “Boyd, I just want my life back”.  Toward the end of her life, she gave me some great years and memories I cherish.  Lately, in my dreams, I have watched little Billy Baun as he sits with his mom in the backyard, by the fireplace or space heater, and I begin to feel once again the power of love shared while just hanging out.  Those of you who know me well, know that just hanging out goes against who’ve I’ve been, but I’m learning how to enjoy who I am as I hang out.  How are your hanging out skills?  Maybe you also need some practice – smile.

Visit from an Angel

Tuesdays, I sat on the bench across the sky bridge from the Picken’s entrance waiting for participants to gather for my labyrinth walk.  Some Tuesdays, my labyrinth walk is a class I just teach; however, this past Tuesday, I really needed the labyrinth walk, for I was hurting inside. Last Friday, we had our first death in the Metastatic Healing Circle I attend.  Brooke was the youngest member of our circle and had so much love of life, and so much more of life to live, and her death brought back memories of the violent deaths of young friends I had experienced in the Army in a war few supported.  Then on Monday, I met with my oncologist and we looked at my cancer markers.  Since January, my cancer marker (PSA) has steady risen (10 – 164) suggesting chemotherapy resistance or some of my cancer cells have become resistant to the drugs and my cancer continues to grow, so I was hurting inside. 

As I sat on the bench, I could feel the pressure of the tears behind my eyes, soon I was wiping away beginning tears, and then I felt her presence.  Brooke was an old soul with a big heart; she had a way of connecting that always made you feel special.  She and I sat there for a few minutes, and then an elderly couple approached the bench.  He was pale and thin, you could feel his pain as he slowly sat down on the far side of the bench.  His wife stood by his side with her hand softly on his shoulder.  He slowly turned and looked at me and said, “Are you the greeter?” and I said yes, and then he said, “You two are on the same journey”.  A sky bridge cart stopped by the bench, and as I watched him move from bench to cart I slowly realized what he had said, he had felt her presence.  Today be open to visits from angels that fill our lives with hope.