|Rainclouds over San Jacinto|
Maybe this is just a long way around to saying that I've begun to resist being a cancer patient. My days have become increasingly organized around that identity: the MRIs and daily meds routines, the appointments with doctors, the chemo and its side effects, the regime of exercise, physical therapy, meditation, and relaxation videos, while staying positive and getting enough rest. etc.
Cancer consumes one’s waking hours and leaves little time for simply living what's left of life. Neglect anything on that list (which I do), and I feel like I'm not doing all I can to flourish as long as I can. I know, it may seem more than a bit like the thinking of a workaholic.
Meanwhile, I have another MRI on Monday and see the oncologist on Wednesday. I started on an antidepressant that the pharmacist says should show results in two weeks. I believe that means I’m supposed to begin feeling normal again, but I've begun to forget what normal feels like. So who knows?
On YouTube I stumbled upon a Tibetan chant of healing by the Dalai Lama for his ailing Czech friend Václav Havel (listen here), and I feel delivered for a while from the work of being a cancer patient still wondering about the purpose of his life. And lest I forget as I write this, thanks to all who stop here each week, especially for the comments left. You make my day.
So life goes on.
And, of course, for both diversion and illumination, there’s still jazz to remind us of living life spontaneously and joyfully. Perfect choice this week suggested by a reader, Chet Baker’s cheerful love song, “Let’s Get Lost.”
Any other readers with jazz favorites of their own, links to them are welcome.