A Qoute From the Red Book

This is an excerpt from a great little book I am reading called The Red Book...

"Countless are the wise masters who've said that our entire existence, as meaningful and profound as it is, is also probably one big cosmic joke. On us. Legendary comic Charlie Chaplin once said "In the end, everything is a gag." Take a look around your life sometime; it can certainly feel like life is one giant prank. We've all had those surreal moments, like when you're staring down some seriously lofty truths or reeling from some profound personal realizations or listening, reading, or speaking about something so incredibley deep and heavy it would make flowers cry, and then you get this sort of weird existential hiccup. Your lens shifts, your spiritual underpants are pulled down, and some raw part of you is suddenly exposed. The world, you, all of us wrapped up in our super-serious "spirituality" all suddenly appear to be like cute, tiny frozen peas, packed away in the back freezer aisle of the universe's supermarket of possibilities. It hits you like a rubber chicken smacked across your skull; We've only just begun to realize who we are and what this place is made of, and even when we do, we still could be, well, totally wrong.

The author of The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, the late,great Douglas Adams, wrote, "There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened" It can get extremely complicated when you try to make  logical sense of why things are the way they are. Why are you here?  What is the meaning of all of this? Why is there so much love and dazzling beauty in one moment and pain and violence in another? Why do you feel the divine's hot breath one night and a cold vacancy the next? Why are there so many wildly different belief systems to choose from? Why did that particular love end or that tragedy occur? Why do families dysfunction or friendships dissolve or personal beliefs get thrown or cute little puppies die or birds get crushed by cars or cute littel fishies get all eaten up bye-bye, yum-yum fish sticks? I mean what, really, is the point?

Approach spritiuality from a purely analytical standpoint, and I can guarantee that you'll come away with a massive migraine with a spicy side of existential angst. It's your choice. Try and tackle these classic, metaphysical brain twisters that philosophers and theologians have been struggling with for centuries and spend your whole life tying yourself up in infinite knots, or accept the mystery, the divine paradox, let go of trying to figure it all out, and enjoy the endless crazy ride."--Sera Beak

I think this is some wise counsel that made its way all the way from the great book sellers at Amazon today....:) I will take it.

Let it Be.

After so long thinking it was under control....all the supplements.....the Vit C IV's, the Mistletoe Injections, the herbs, the diet, the thousands of dollars....all of it.....its back.....

Another lump.

If it hadn't been for my doctor finding me on linked in (yup that site creates miracles) and convincing me to come in and see him for a follow up check, I might not have found it. I was so convinced I would be fine, as I was saying the words, "I will be fine", he said "I feel something".

Boom. A small needle biopsy moving on to the big needle biopsy and on into a pathology that said CANCER.

Sigh. Shake angry fist at God. Collapse into tears. Meditate all morning, praying for guidance. 

And just a week before I was going to Costa Rica.....planning my life and workshops and classes and....

Life made other plans, again.

Okay, the pity party is over. I cancelled that act this morning. Now its action time and being logical. So much foot work to this journey, emails, phone calls, care taking, eating, ordering, researching, its just a full time job. Now I am trying to set up my room to be a sanctuary because it seems I will be spending more time here in these tiny walls. Light the candles paint the walls hang up the sacred stuff, make it pretty. I never fully moved in because I honestly didnt think I would be staying here that long, thank god for girlfriends and homes.

Now, to focus on this little lump in my upper left boob, looking so dark on the sonnegram, being fed by god knows what, being heard by who knows how....what a mess. Or is it?

I vascillate between the pity party and this strange sense of wanting to tackle a healing project. I am made for this stuff.....I have passed thru worse than this in life upon life, famine, torture, death, disease, abortion, this cancer stuff is really just grist for the mill. Except when the demons come out....like masectomy, hair loss, infertility....why does God want to threaten me with my female parts? Who does he think he is to play these games with me?  It is not FAIR nor RIGHT nor what is SUPPOSED To happen....didnt he read the script? He is directing the WRONG movie...somebody please tell him so he can pencil back in boobs and long flowing hair and lovely children suckling from my very real and unsagging boobs. (I threw the unsagging in there as a payback)

Of course now, when I am upset with life, God becomes a Man and not the Goddess.....Goddess wouldn't do this, only a strict Man who thinks I have done wrong and I still need to be punished. And not punished in that titillating playful way, like really punished. Like hack of your boobs and steal your ovaries and make you damaged goods that will never find a nice man and settle down...although I never wanted to settle down but  now suddenly it seems very nice, especially with that white picket fence....No you WONT!! I want to scream.......No you wont take my fairy tale away from me.

And who knows...really. Where is this leading? Who knows. Maybe God doesn't even know, maybe he is as suprised as I am. Maybe.  Maybe God doesn't care how I feel about it, maybe its just supposed to happen for reasons I may never know. Its just how the atoms and molecules were split at my conception and maybe I give God too much credit. Maybe he is just bumbling along just like me, forgetting to put on deodorant and call the Tax Lady back. Maybe.

I am so sick of this God business and this Karma business and anything that has to do with me finding ways that I fucked up in my life and therefore created this cancer and am supposed to not get mad at anyone or anything because somewhere I called it to me so how can I blame anyone. Really? Fuck you. Really. I think this "reasoning" was made up by people who are afraid to face that fact that is could happen to them and there is no "reason" that can somehow be controlled so that you can feel better about not having it or ever getting it because you are doing all the "right" things that will make it so you don't get it. I am throwing that guilt trip out the window of the 85th floor of the high rise called "Let it Be". The Beatles can now be God, they make more sense anyway. Was John Lennon a bad guy because somebody shot him? Or Martin Luther King? Yeah those theories don't really hold when you look at the bad shit that happens to good people that also seem somehow touched by the hand of God.


For now, I have cancer because in some strange reality seemingly far from this one, but actually right along side it, it makes sense. Because, whatever fortitude that made me write this post had to come up and thru and out and Life (fuck God) wanted it to be that way because it is more interesting than sitting in a suburban house peeling apples. Because, some screwey people decided it would be great to fuck with the environment and put weird things in food, and poison the waters, and pollute the air because well, in a strange twisted way it made them money that they then thought they would do good things with but never got around too, because they were out making more money. Because I am not so important as I think I am and because life just happens while you are busy making other plans.

To be continued.

Revisit

I wake up one morning from a dream, that I am loosing my hair. That there are bald spots on my head, big gaping holes all over my head where there is no hair. Absolutely no hair. I am wondering in the dream how they got there. It is not a terrifying dream. In it, it feels like I am more wondering how they got there, knowing they will most likely grow back, but nonetheless, there are bald spots on my head....so it isnt the best either.

The next day after this dream, I speak with my father, as I walk on the very cold afternoon sidewalk in chelsea.  He starts to tell me of yet another friend that did the chemo and "she's fine now". I launch into my speech that I must have said a zillion times, about the cancer industry and all the ways I am not going to be a part of it. I feel like I am explaining this to myself because I have to convince myself I am not afraid. Or that I am not secretly wondering if I made the right choice. Or in the back of mind, thinking, well maybe I should just try it.  My father concludes my speech with a simple "well I would just have to disagree with you". And then "Good luck". Ugh. That feels like a sharp nail in my side....good luck? What about "we support you honey" or "I know you can do this". Good Luck?

My next book will be "A Parent's Guide to Parenting Children That Are Now Adults who Make Cancer Choices."  Chapter 1:: Good luck should never be said with finality. Ever.

The thing is there is always that little bit of doubt always lurking in the back of my mind. I mean isn't that normal? The point is not to play into it, right? I don't know. Its all  a big mystery, truly, but I certainly know, telling your kid Good Luck, must be chosen in the right context, tone and situation.

The Scan

So, now that I have gone alternative. Am I alternative? I guess that's what I am. Now that I have gone that way, I am forced to ask the question, yes, but how am I "checking" to see if it's "working"?  Well. Good question. Awhile back at the start of this whole journey my lovely little arrogant and brilliant blonde surgeon had ordered me a full Pet Scan. You know the kind where they zoom over your body and check for any "hot spots", if anything lights up, well that could be where more cancer "may" have spread. It's a $5,000 test that insurance somehow managed to get out of paying. Yup folks, even though I had a lump of cancer sitting in my breast, they didn't think that checking the rest of my body was really a priority. And according to some silly cancer criteria made by the national institute of cancer people who wear stiff neck ties, the scan was not considered necessary.

So let me get this correct Stiff Cancer People of my Imagination, you are freaking me out or rather into doing chemotherapy because "God forbid it spreads"(they all say this expression, it must be in the handbook) but you don't want to check to see if it really has?  The logic on this one is beyond my meager mind, forgive me. I don't wear neck ties. Even though my doctor ordered it. Hmmm.

Finally after a few months, I thought, damn, you know I would just like to sleep better at night, knowing I did everything I could to make sure that I checked all the possibilities. So I called up my trusty Nurse Denise, who works along side the arrogant and brilliant english surgeon, born and raised in Brooklyn, sweet as pie lady, who I have chatted with very honestly on many occasions. Denise cares. You can feel it. And the brooklyn accent just makes the whole experience even better. Denise, got back to me right away, only to tell me the doctor was on vacation and she had to wait till he got back. Doctors take vacations?

When she did get back to me, she had this to say:: "Would it change your treatment choices? (i.e would you finally just DO the chemotherapy) Because it doesn't make any sense to do the scan dear, because even if you find something, it will be a stage 4 and there would be nothing we could do for you. At that point it would be too far gone. The doctor just wants you to be aware that just because you do the scan it doesn't necessarily give you a clean bill of health. You could do another one in a month and find something, there is just no way of knowing.

So what you are telling me is that I shouldn't do the scan??? I should just sit around and HOPE that it hasn't spread and save my money? Because even if you find something there is nothing you can do so ignorance is rather a nice way out of this mess?  "Isn't it better to know" I ask Denise, "I mean if something is there, isn't it advisable that I would know about it at the very least??  Is this new logic in the medical world, or has sticking your head in the sand become the preferred way to treat people....."Dont worry about it, get back to your job and life, best we just let nature run its course. As if a stage 4 is incurable, even if it was what I had, do you not read the countless cases of spontaneous healings, alternative healings with stage 4 and worse? No, I know you don't but I do. So fuck, do I spend $5,000 on a scan that is only going to tell me that I have such an advanced case of cancer the medical world just gives up on you, and which may tell me things are great today but in a month it all could change and I will have to be doing $5,000 scans the rest of my life, severely preventing that much desired trip to Costa Rica, India and Brazil and that tan that NYC has proved impossible to attain.

"Well maybe you just want to do the chemotherapy so you know you really got everything"....This is what is implied....We are happy to order the scan for you, but we want to further scare you that whatever it finds either won't make a difference to what we can do for you, or won't be the full picture a month from now, so maybe if we tell you this, you will finally aquiesce to the chemo and get this scan thing out of your head and we can feel like we did our jobs. Maybe they are right, maybe I should just stick my arm out for one round of the chemo, just so THEY can sleep better at night.  Save my $$ and go to India and Brazil and stop being so difficult. Well, at least more tan....