Mayo

Dad and I went to the Mayo Clinic in Scottsdale, Arizona today.  Unfortunately, the records that were faxed over yesterday didn't get into his file, so we had to recount what we could remember of the progression of Dad's illness.  This doctor was impressed with how well Dad is doing and said as long as he is doing so well, she wouldn't recommend he do anything medically.  However, if he starts to have symptoms, pain, or scans show the cancer growing, then there is the possibility of future chemo treatments.  She needs to see his records, go over his scans and possibly compare them to a new scan, and wants to see the pathology slides so she can confirm the type of cancer cell he is fighting.  This information may also give her an idea of a different kind of chemo to try.  She is the first doctor who said there are still treatment options.  Which makes me very happy.  And somewhat suspicious.  She did say any treatment option needs to be balanced against potential side effects and Dad's quality of life.   

Good doctors have told Dad there's not much more they can do other than keep him comfortable--his own doctor, two doctors at Fred Hutcheson Cancer Center in Seattle, and a highly recommended cancer specialist who is also a cancer researcher in California.  Can all these medical professionals have made a mistake?  Is this Mayo doctor just blowing smoke up our collective rear ends?  Or is there something she knows that the other doctors do not know?  The Mayo doctor did concur with all the other doctors in defining the eventual outcome: this disease is terminal, nothing she can do will "cure" him.  Now why doesn't that make me feel all warm and fuzzy?

This medical maze we live in and are experiencing even now is a real challenge.  We want hope.  Hope makes Dad happy.  Me too.  All of us really.  But are we giving up anything to have this hope?  If it just costs money, then that's ok.  But what if he is spending precious time away from home...away from his family and friends who love him, away from his orchard...the dirt and trees and sun that runs through his body as surely as this cancer does?  Is that a good thing?

We do not know what she will recommend after she has a chance to review all the records.  She may completely concur with the other doctors.  And if she doesn't, if she offers alternatives, I guess Dad will consider his options and make a decision.  The decision isn't mine, that's for sure.  Nor can anyone else make this decision.  He has to.

She said this is not typical esophageal cancer, it is slow moving, so the pathology may be different, meaning a different chemo may be effective in holding at bay for a longer period of time.  She also said any chemo regime she recommends, his own doctor can administer it so he can be home.

No, I don't completely trust this doctor.  But at this moment, I am enjoying the glimmer of hope she has presented.  The rest, we'll deal with later. 

Too many choices?

Well, it’s a great day so far. I didn’t make bread yesterday, so the first thing I did this morning was start a batch, let it rise while I was on my walk, and it’s now in pans rising for another few minutes before I put it in the oven. It’s been cooler so I don’t think I’ll create an oven in my whole house. I just love the smell of bread baking.

What an opportunity I have been given. When I left my life and business at the beginning of 2004 I had no clue I would wind up here in paradise, searching for a new place in a new world, trying to settle back into myself after the challenges of the past four years. Finishing college was difficult and wonderful and worth it. As a “mature student” (read: oldest person in the class, including professors), I was able to focus on learning and not on exploring myself. You're never too old for education. Really. Even though I cried the whole first week of classes, I got over myself, worked my buns off (I wish) and graduated. But I am not just a college graduate, I learned a lot. I loved the integrated teaching approach at The Evergreen State College; with writing, chemistry, math, anthropology, biology, anatomy and physiology, and critical thinking all intertwined in such a way that together it made so much more sense than taking each of those classes separately. Like I said, college was a good choice.

And now, here I am in paradise, trying to figure out if going backwards is going forward. (Is there a bit of irony in my situation…I wasn’t filled with searching angst while at college, but as a senior citizen I’m wondering what I want to be when I grow up…what is wrong with this picture?) Because I haven’t been able to find a “real” job, should I go back to my previous career, creating a new business here? Should I continue to take temp jobs and submit applications (assuming I don’t get the job I’ve most recently applied for, which I hope I do, but who knows?). I’m not content to just sit on my rear and wait for the world to present me with the perfect opportunity. But where to look, where to look?

Sometimes I forget that one of the things I need to do is write. I have the draft sitting on my computer, been rolling the story around in my head for several months, have the middle ready to put on paper (or on the screen), and have the time to dedicate to it right now. Ok.

There are so many choices, aren’t there? Why do I piss and moan when I have options and opportunities right here in front of me. I’m healthy. I’m smart. I’m blessed. I live in paradise. What better place to start doing what needs to be done. And nothing is exclusive of the other thing. I can write, start a business, submit applications, and wander the roads and orchards around my home being touched by the beauty and bounty of the goodness of the Lord.

Mountains to move, rivers to cross, and bread to take out of the oven. Gotta go.