My aunt recently commented about my blog that I do a "great job of sharing things very personal without them being morbid, too dramatic, TOO personal". I am about to let her down . . .
It's been a tough week.
We learned that a man we knew from treatment at UofM, with a similar cancer, passed away on Tuesday. We knew that just after the treatment at UofM concluded, that his cancer had meta-sized to his lungs and other treatments (including one at John's Hopkins) did not help. John Cleasby was only 57. In my mind, I can see his face in the chemo infusion room at UofM - coping as all the patients were. He was a quiet and gentle man - who happened to be married to a former co-worker of mine. While sitting next to each other in the infusion area, it seemed a blessing that I found a long-lost friend in the chaos that was the UofM Cancer Center and hospital. Bonnie Cleasby and I shared so much and had such similar outlooks. "We are going to beat this thing", we'd say over and over.
John is now at peace - his battle over. I pray now for dear Bonnie that she will soon find peace. We are attending the funeral tomorrow.
And then, my dear friend Aimee is scheduled for brain surgery next week. I drove her, last week, to her pre-op testing in Ann Arbor where they will be doing the surgery. I am sure one of the reasons I had the privilege of driving her is my familiarity with that monstrous facility called the UofM hospital and the surrounding area. While I feel strongly that all will be well (that she will have less head and neck pain following the surgery), I know it will be a slow recovery.
My good friend Kris' mom had yet another heart surgery last week (the second in three months!). Eleanor is a strong woman that has overcome more than three people and I know that she'll pull through. But it's another crisis and I worry about Kris.
And then just this morning, I played catch-up on Facebook and discovered that a friend from high school was in a coma following a brain aneurysm and subsequent surgery. While she is recovering, it seems she is in for a long term battle. Dori had just posted on Facebook a funny comment - or so it seemed to me that it was just posted the day before the aneurysm.
There have been, these past couple weeks, a few other (though minor in comparison) examples that have left me feeling less than upbeat. I am trying to find the 'glass half full' in all of this and have to admit it's a struggle.
I thought this afternoon - could this all be middle age? Are these things happening now because we're in our middle years and that's what starts to happen in the middle years? Used to be a rarity to have a friend or relative with major illnesses or a life-threatening condition. Now it seems more common.
Last night after feeding 12 members of the Saugatuck High school football team (ten pounds of sloppy joes!) and then attending a parents of seniors meeting - I was thoroughly exhausted. To my bones exhausted. And I realized that all of these individual crises are weighing on me. I feel things too deeply.
So, I need to find something positive so that I can get back to being the upbeat and positive being I am at my core. Pollyanna doesn't look good wearing a frown! I have been praying off and on all day and have felt God's presence - and that is the best place to start. I promise to post something more upbeat next time!
It's been a tough week.
We learned that a man we knew from treatment at UofM, with a similar cancer, passed away on Tuesday. We knew that just after the treatment at UofM concluded, that his cancer had meta-sized to his lungs and other treatments (including one at John's Hopkins) did not help. John Cleasby was only 57. In my mind, I can see his face in the chemo infusion room at UofM - coping as all the patients were. He was a quiet and gentle man - who happened to be married to a former co-worker of mine. While sitting next to each other in the infusion area, it seemed a blessing that I found a long-lost friend in the chaos that was the UofM Cancer Center and hospital. Bonnie Cleasby and I shared so much and had such similar outlooks. "We are going to beat this thing", we'd say over and over.
John is now at peace - his battle over. I pray now for dear Bonnie that she will soon find peace. We are attending the funeral tomorrow.
And then, my dear friend Aimee is scheduled for brain surgery next week. I drove her, last week, to her pre-op testing in Ann Arbor where they will be doing the surgery. I am sure one of the reasons I had the privilege of driving her is my familiarity with that monstrous facility called the UofM hospital and the surrounding area. While I feel strongly that all will be well (that she will have less head and neck pain following the surgery), I know it will be a slow recovery.
My good friend Kris' mom had yet another heart surgery last week (the second in three months!). Eleanor is a strong woman that has overcome more than three people and I know that she'll pull through. But it's another crisis and I worry about Kris.
And then just this morning, I played catch-up on Facebook and discovered that a friend from high school was in a coma following a brain aneurysm and subsequent surgery. While she is recovering, it seems she is in for a long term battle. Dori had just posted on Facebook a funny comment - or so it seemed to me that it was just posted the day before the aneurysm.
There have been, these past couple weeks, a few other (though minor in comparison) examples that have left me feeling less than upbeat. I am trying to find the 'glass half full' in all of this and have to admit it's a struggle.
I thought this afternoon - could this all be middle age? Are these things happening now because we're in our middle years and that's what starts to happen in the middle years? Used to be a rarity to have a friend or relative with major illnesses or a life-threatening condition. Now it seems more common.
Last night after feeding 12 members of the Saugatuck High school football team (ten pounds of sloppy joes!) and then attending a parents of seniors meeting - I was thoroughly exhausted. To my bones exhausted. And I realized that all of these individual crises are weighing on me. I feel things too deeply.
So, I need to find something positive so that I can get back to being the upbeat and positive being I am at my core. Pollyanna doesn't look good wearing a frown! I have been praying off and on all day and have felt God's presence - and that is the best place to start. I promise to post something more upbeat next time!
May gentleness fill the air for these times we are all in. Remain curious and expect miracles.
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