The on-going, first-hand tale of a journey through medical oncology... and what happens after.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

"Why are there so many, songs about rainbows...

... and what's on the other side? Rainbows are visions, and only illusions, and rainbows have nothing to hide."

I find myself straining to see the rainbows these last few days. I am having some acid reflux to accompany my general weariness and gut-sucky feelings, and that makes the idea of eating less-than-appealing. My exercise class on Monday was energizing and eye-openingly hard - I felt light-headed several times after the simple exercise sets (side squats, dead-weight lifts of 15 lbs, normal squats) and the balancing exercise made me acutely aware that my tingling feet and fingers are back.

And a lot of things just do not feel as important as maybe they once might have been. I am primarily talking about taxes - even though I am sure we are due a refund this year (again). I am quite tired of the pieces of my face that are continuously flaking off everywhere, and the accompanying feeling of sunburn. Let's just say that the weekly infusion of cetuximab (Erbitux), while not nearly as deadening as FOLFIRI, is no longer simply a task to endure. I now have a growing sense of dread surrounding it too.

Where is the optimism, Ed? Where is the can-do, get-through-this-too attitude? I am not sure. Last night I was really sad. Sadder than I ever remember being. I am glad to say that today was a ton better, and that I am not wallowing in self-pity. Hope still rings eternal, but the tone of the ringing has changed a little. I have to find a way to see the rainbow through the storm, and know I can do it. These last few days, though, have been hard.

I used to love to sing "The Rainbow Connection" in Kermit the Frog's voice. In fact, I think I could still pull it off today. It's a great song. Thank you, Jim Henson, The Muppet Movie and Paul Hamilton Williams, Jr.

"So we've been told and some choose to believe it, I know they're wrong - wait and see. Someday we'll find it - the rainbow connection - the lovers, the dreamers, and me."


Anonymous said...

....and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true. Keep searching for the end of that rainbow Ed. It's not what lies beyond, it is in the searching that we find ourselves. It is not the notes that make the music, but rather, the silence between the notes. There is where the magic lies.

Keep up the good fight.


Anonymous said...

Even rainbows grow weary in the middle sometimes, as they arc and reach and shimmer and strain to remember the intensity of the start and finish.

You are strong. You are loved. You will beat this ... again. I know it.

AliK said...

And that is a big part of the crappy cancer ride...thank you for naming it.

Anonymous said...

How could you not sometimes be sad or discouraged or madder than hell when your body is under such assault? The only thing worse than cancer is being treated for it.

You are allowed to protest.

Anonymous said...

My favorite Muppet song:

This looks familiar, vaguely familiar,
Almost unreal, yet, it's too soon to feel yet.
Close to my soul, yet so far away.
I'm going to go back there someday.

Sun rises, night falls, sometimes the sky calls.
Is that a song there, and do I belong there?
I've never been there, but I know the way.
I'm going to go back there someday.

Hang in there, Ed. Your feelings are normal and understandable.


Anonymous said...

let yourself be sad, Ed. Let the tears flow and the sorrow in. it can be even a bit healing to let it all out and stare it right in the face. thinking of you, i love you.

Dorothy Skinner said...

Oh, Ed, your treatment is horrible. Don't be a hero all the time: rant, scream pound your fist. At times rage can beat rainbows ( well, not always).

You're strong; your strength can beat this.

kw said...

Hey, Ed, you get big points for recognizing and acknowledging sadness - I recently read a study in which a vast majority of cancer patients said they hid their feelings from their family - hunh, I thought, like that helps anyone?? I think about sad (and mad) as the pauses in the process - like taking a breath, so you can keep on cranking up the hill. Keep breathing; keep pedaling - you can do this - but you know that already.

john said...

When you get your taste buds back, a sip of scotch will be on the menu. I'll have a mirror pond too though. I am a big Kermit fan as well, but I think Dorie says it best, "just keep swimming, just keep swimming". jw