Ripples in the pond...

This is a great day for napping. Cool, with gusty winds blowing the humidity from the air and pulling more storms into view on the weather radar. Really, it is quite a feat for me to get the computer from Karen when weather is approaching. She is a weather radar junkie.

The washing machine is still not working so after we came back from doing laundry I put bread together and we took a nap. Seems like I am tired more than I used to be. This week was especially tiring. I had already wound myself up with anger at not hearing the results of my prostate biopsy so that when the results came back negative for cancer I was relieved but incapable of joy. That made our lives, well... not interesting. Karen and I are finding out that we are going to be getting better at communication and venting without consequences attached.

Being honest is so essential. If we are self-censoring for fear of hurting each others' feelings I am afraid we will find ourselves in separate corners of a dark room, waiting the other to bring in the light. I think this depth of honesty will become a skill we get better at with practice. As Karen said a few weeks ago, life is all about practice.

Two good things came this week. After my prostate came back clean I was free to get the treatment process started. In the absence of clear leadership from the medical community, I assumed the role of bus driver and started the next round of phone calls to get appointments for radiation and chemo. This is so frustrating. Monday will be the beginning of the seventh week since my cancer was discovered. I do have an appointment here in Bemidji, with the radiation oncologist on the 10th of July. I am still trying to get a referral for the medical oncologist and will try calling Katie on Monday to see if Madoff can shake something loose. At the rate the treatment is progressing I may be getting surgery in November. At least I will have more PTO banked by then.

The really good thing that happened is that I am becoming more and more aware of the community of friends and family gathering around Karen and I. We have become the pebble dropped into the still waters of the pond. The ripples circle out, growing and growing as they move farther away from the center. Longtime friends, John and Sue Tibstra came by the other night to see how we were. We had a few beers and a lot of laughs and we were all better for the time spent together. They put together a CD of John Prine songs and gave it to me. We had it playing last night in Ruby. Karen said it is the first time she heard me sing a whole CD. What a treat to hear Prine! I suspect there are some people out there who were in my YCC crews years ago, that still remember the chorus to "Flag Decal" because I sung it so much while we were cutting brush and killing horseflies.

We listened to Prine as we drove to Gerchy's house. Jon and Trish invited us out for a fish fry. Jon makes the best deep fried fish, period. Jon is our 'Uncle Jon' and we enjoyed a symbiotic relationship when we lived in the tipi. He took care of us and we tried to take care of him. Karen and I could not ask for better friends.

I sat by Jon while he was cooking and listened as he told me that if there was anything we needed, we should just let them know. I have such a hard time asking for help. Some of that is pride, some of that is because I have often and still do, feel like a loner. I guess I have always been kind of on the fringe and never in the center of anything. To know how much I am, we are, loved by our friends and family, is one of those times when tears just well up. And after a week of such ups and downs, my emotional resistance is so thin it is all I can do not to be all tears and snot. I will have to learn to ask people like Jon, to listen while I vent my fears and angers and hopefully, share my joys. I am not sure how to do this; to find and trust friends and be honest: to be part of a bigger community. Loners like me have few close friends and spend too much time in our own heads because we are sure we are misfits, or crazy or broken.

I felt broken the other night. I hate that feeling but wrap myself up in it because old habits die hard. This week I am learning my life doesn't have to be that way anymore. Karen has spent so much time telling me that over the years and now, friends are telling me too. I can't say thank you, enough.

The bread just came out of the oven. I thank Karen every time my bread turns out. I am always surprised at the little miracle of fresh bread. And today I am touched and honored by the larger miracle of a loving community of support. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Peace,
Mike