Since my last post several days ago, I’ve been regaining strength after fasting prior to tests, and waiting for doctors to get consensus on test results. On Monday I had a 4-inch stent placed in my esophagus so I can swallow solid food again, after about 5 weeks of BYOB (bring your own blender). I’m regaining weight already.
Tomorrow, I’ll have a PortaCath (portable catheter) inserted under my skin (below my clavicle) and will start chemotherapy shortly thereafter.
On the one hand, I look forward to getting on with the treatment, but on the other hand I don’t look forward to the burden of chemotherapy, nor its side-effects. It seems like opening Pandora’s Box at this point.
And that brings me back to the book, “The Anatomy of Hope: How People Prevail in the Face of Illness,” which I referred to earlier, and which I now have an ebook copy of (Barnes and Noble, Nook version). Groopman briefly describes the essence of his book with this opening epigraph:
Pandora. the first mortal woman, received from Zeus a box that she was forbidden to open. The box contained all human blessings and all human curses. Temptation overcame restraint, and Pandora opened it. In a moment, all the curses were released into the world, and all the blessings escaped and were lost—except one: hope. Without hope. mortals could not endure.
My vision, through what I will do and learn in the next while, is to have a brightness of hope that will allow me to endure well, as many other blessings may appear to escape me. And I realize that it’s a spiritual energy I can’t treat with an easy slogan of “set it and forget it.”
(Graphic from “Mary Art” blog)