Subway

Here is a memorable, if not too recent, interaction at a local Subway restaurant. Honestly, I am becoming much more intrigued and fascinated by everyday encounters. I suppose my recent experiences with uncertain futures  have made me more appreciative of the silliness and wonder of mundane life. Whatever the reasons, here is a great little vignette.....

This gal walks in to the Subway restaurant (it's about a block from my house) and heads directly to the counter. She gazes up at the menu board and, in a loud and definite voice, gives her order: "I 'll have three six inch spicy Italians".
I am standing right behind her and I can see the face of the woman who is taking her order. I cannot help it.... I give a wide-eyed look of amazement and surprise and I have to say.... "wow.... I had no idea a person could get something like that at Subway."
The gal giving the order is not fazed in the least, and I expect that she did not pick up my pithy double entendre (ahem). But the woman taking her order, someone closer to my age and clearly more appreciative of my humour, gave a little snort and then got herself under control, and got those spicy Italians ready to go. It was a moment. What can I say.
Maybe you had to be there.
I 'm glad I was!!
Hee hee.

Writing in a thunderstorm in Pittsburgh

yellow ball

sun or moon

breaking dawn

twilight soon

flowers 

branches

lead the tree

out of this dichotomy

days will start

days will fall

moving 'round a yellow ball

or is it yellow after all?

silhouette, distant light

early day, early night

blossoms open

petals may

lift and lower

swing and sway

almost breathing 

in a way

pink and white 

chant and pray

together 

weather wind, and stay

simultaneous/ly

 play

delight/ed

Lessons of May

Sleep that's not restless

Feeling my toes

Food that's not tasteless

Hairs in my nose

Itching's relentless

But nausea slows

These are the lessons of May

Blogger betrayed me

Erased all my friends

Re-connecting's not easy

Yet still I depend

on being tenacious

in ways that don't bend

These are the lessons of May

Finding a balance
Between then and now
Knowing my energy
Isn't a plow
Ceaselessly trenching
Row upon row
These are the lessons of May

Partner, son, family
People who care
Words of encouragement
People who dare
To be in these moments with me
Life laid bare
These are the lessons of May

 

Hickey

so, another month has passed. May and its lessons. This will be the title of my next post. I am processing the remaining gifts of chemotherapy. Lots of "processing" in body, mind and heart. The body stuff is cleansing and irritating and uncomfortable all at the same time. Oh, and ex-HAUST-ing. Whew. Nice to sleep more easily. Nice to be nauseous for short periods of the day and not for days and days at a stretch. Nice to be getting my taste buds back ..... sensation back in my hands and fingers, that's nice,too. Feet and toes, another story. Hey, I am glad to be feeling them again, but it has been totally weird. And painful. And ITCHY.

but enough of that .....
One of the real joys of this cancer odyssey has been the support of friends. One such friend, I will call her Leaf, has been my chemo driver. She picks me up, drives me to the clinic, waits and sits with me through the treatment and drives me home. Our sessions have been a blast..... we chat, we have created assessment rubrics ( we both are involved in a teaching based occupation), we have planned and  written conference presentations,  we tell each other stories from our lives. I want to share one of Leaf's stories with you. The title of this post is at the heart of her story.
So, Leaf  plays hockey in a men's league.There are a few women who do this..... they play at good level and like the added edge in the men's game. These gals also play in women's leagues, but they seem to thrive on the variety. Anyway, Leaf has been playing with these guys for a few years. There is a good sense of respect and fun and support. After the game, the team goes for wings and beer and it is an easy social context. Most of the guys are married and some are related to each other and know each other well. Leaf enjoys the post game social time and is comfortable with this group of fellas. On the rare occasions the guys want to go to a strip club, Leaf leaves them to it and goes her own way rejoicing.
At a game a few days after one such strip club excursion, Leaf notices that one of the fellas, let's call him Jack,  is covered with bruises all around his neck and shoulders. She does not want to pry, so waits for some of the other guys to pass on the tale. At wings and beer after the game, the other fellas give her the scoop. Jack has begged off early to be with his wife and their new baby. This is an important detail.
Turns out that at the strip club, one of the Ladies got nice and close to Jack and gave him a huge hickey. In the parking lot after they leave the club all hands notice her handiwork and Jack is now in dire straits. He cannot go home to his wife and their precious new baby with this awful mark on his neck. What to do??
I looked at Leaf and said, " he asked the guys to beat him up, right?"
She looked back at me, incredulously, and said "Yes!" like this was some unthinkable thing. Indeed he did.... Jack begged his pals to go at him with  their sticks and to follow up with fists in hockey gloves  to make it look even more authentic. Apparently, the beating allowed him to get home to wife and child with no worries at all. Except the aftermath of the beating.

Leaf and I traded lots of stories from everyday life. I love stories..... such lovely slices of life and such textured slivers of light illuminating  these  sweet and funny moments that make up so much of how we are in the world. My deep  appreciation for these moments is also a gift of chemotherapy,as are the words and messages that I continue to read from fellow bloggers. Cheers to all of you poets of  moments and imagination.

Drought

Cancer marches in
takes up residence in my mind
and my heart
 and my body
takes a breath
puts one foot in front of the other
does the next right thing
Priorities are over-rated

Treatments rally
soldiers in an assembly line
Slice, dice, chop, drop
poke, prick, zap, drip, pop
poison, rinse, swish, swallow
carve a hollow
space for time
this now on a rhythm
of its own
Schedules are over-rated

Take a number
effects exceed
any and all anticipations
cast asunder, scrambling
against a slow and steady
relentless trickster
pounding, overwhelming
Drugs are over-rated

Saddle up
thus begins the wild ride
crashing, burning,
overturning
preparation
navigation
imagination
Sensation is over-rated
Taste is over-rated
Hair is over-rated
Sleep is over-rated

Huddle up
Hunker down
look these two familiar strangers in the eye
& recognize them for the imposters that they are
abandon the myth of equal exchange of services
Ask for help
Accept it
Express gratitude and mean it
Be honest
refuse the seductions of bravery
minimizing
awkward moments
pep talks
platitudes
feigned interest & worse
Collaboration is over-rated

Cancer marches in
takes up residence in my mind
and my heart...
and my body learns
new "tolerances"
Euphemisms are over-rated

This Special Day

this special day carried my son's words

breathed the sound of leaves

ocean

rain

shimmering 

 in a sweet, clean bowl

one smooth stone

stillness

hope

this special day leans into that sharp edge

looks into that deep well

yields to fear 

and re-birth

celebrates this

fragile, tender

now

of moments given

unfolding

 

Dry Date, 2013

This date is designated my " Dry Date". It is the day that commemorates my decision to live as a sober person. 23 years later,  I am a proud member of Alcoholics Anonymous, and am grateful for every sober day. I do not take it for granted and I am vigilant about the state of my spiritual condition as well as my overall well being. This is more difficult than I thought.... it is easy to get caught in old habits and, as my dad (also an AA member; died a winner almost two years ago) used to say, sometimes your mind is not your best friend.
I could not imagine persevering  with my present cancer situation with the attitude I have if I were not sober. Being present with my life and not being afraid to be alone with my own thoughts are gifts.
I do not do this alone. I have a wonderful sponsor and a group that accepts me and a family who respects the choices I make and who care enough to be honest with me about the things that count.
Today, I am reasonably  content. I have a measure of serenity that sustains me, one day at a time.