Stress Maybe?
Yesterday was not a banner day in the life and times of Merle Hamburger; in wasn’t necessarily bad, but there were some parts I would readily have preferred to do without. In particular, as I have mentioned to several who have asked, the last couple of weeks have been fairly stressful.
Today, I will be getting my first REAL follow-up CT and the potential for bad results really hit last night. I had mentioned, in an earlier post, of a metaphor that MaryBeth had used to describe how she felt about my cancer. For those of you who missed it, she said she feels like there is a time bomb in the room and we cannot see the timer (or as pictured above, the timer has no hands). The bomb might never blow up, or it may have already blown up and we’ll just get confirmation on Thursday (a friend reminded me that my CT today will merely tell me what has already happened — there is nothing I can do to change its results).
I have mentioned this metaphor to several folks; some get it better than others. Most commonly, someone will say that we ALL have ‘time bombs (just many of us don’t know it). I think there in lies the difference; my time bomb is the great, big, huge elephant in the room. There is no question that it is there, the only question is if it will go off or not. For other people, they are unaware if they have a cancer bomb, or a heart attack / stroke bomb; etc. It might be there, but it might be hidden or under the counter. My bomb has a big neon sign with arrows pointing to it.
We’ll find out Thursday.
A quick update about my family. My sister is home from the hospital and recuperating well. My dad, not so much. In addition to his difficulty breathing, it has become increasingly difficult for him to get around (to simply use his feet). An MRI suggested that his neurologist follow-up with him because of potential water on the brain (hydrocephalus). Over the past several months, his ability to move has been limited, in part by his breathing, but possibly in part because of pressure exerted on the brain because of his hydrocephalus).
Tomorrow, my Dad will have a lumbar puncture / tap to drain out some of the cerebrospinal fluid to see if that helps reduce the pressure on his brain (and restore functioning to his feet). I may decide to hop in the car this afternoon and drive on down. Please keep my Dad in your thoughts.
Until Thursday (if not sooner).
Merle
I’m thinking that you need to reframe this metaphor so you can live more comfortably with the uncertainty. I think I’ve shared with you the story of the monk with the beautiful glass. He is asked how people can care for each other so much knowing that we will all die. He answers that it is like the beautiful glass on his desk. He knows that one day the wind or a person may cause it to break. He says, “because the glass is already broken, I shall enjoy it immensely.” I like that better than your picture. You and your family are in my prayers.
Thinking of you and your family.