February 11, 2012

This past week I had and MRI, full body, plus skull X-rays. I wonder if they'll find anything? NP Jeanie called and reported that the bone marrow biopsy was back and that the myeloma cell counts were down and that they would probably continue with the Velcade IV's. A good sign; the other options were to consider a different chemo approach or a bone marrow transplant. I will admit that that one frightens me. Maybe I don't know enough about it, but the idea of taking out enough of the replacement cells and then literally "killing" all of the remaining cells with "poison", the chemo, and then replacing the good cells that they harvested and propagated, seems... well, scary. What is your life in that interim period of absolutely no immunity and how long does it take to recover? If it was going to "buy" me months I don't think I would do it; years, well then I'd have to give it that consideration.

That brings up another question: who do you do this for? Do I do it for myself and make a decision that I am comfortable with? At this particular point in time, I feel it's OK to choose dying. Why? Because I have lived a good and worthwhile life; because it's best to go out at the top of your game rather than suffer the indignities of decline; because dying is normal and natural; because "clinging" and always wanting more is selfish; because it enables a constant sense of false hope in others rather allowing the change to happen.

The other side of the coin is that I should fight (cling) to life and do whatever I can to extend each moment that I can for my wife, my family, for my friends to lessen their pain and sense of loss. Though death is both inevitable and universal, it is a solitary trip when we undertake it. Letting go of those we love is difficult and painful. But isn't "letting go" also a sign of love? I can't take away the pain for the heart of others even though I might be able to postpone it; the pain will still arrive.

I have grandchildren that I am curious as to how their lives will develop. I wonder how my children will fare in the coming years. What might Peggy and I do if I am still here? Will the state of the world continue to get crazier? There are so many questions that my curiosity would like answered, but where does that end?

I feel comfortable with the idea of dying, at least that is what I tell myself. I intellectualize and I rationalize; I philosophize and I spiritualize the notion of dying. And, yes, I believe I am dealing with it on an emotional level. What will happen to all of the "-izing" once I am actually on the precipice? Part of the mystery, I suspect. It is my hope that the "-izing" will make that passing into that mysterious realm similar to jumping off of a bridge over a deep ravine with a giant bungee cord secured around your ankles, or jumping out of an airplane with a parachute. You have have to have faith, that as frightening as that first step off of the precipice may be, that you will be OK.

As to what, if anything, will be there on the other side of dying, I am only certain that I simply can't know. I don't believe in heaven, and only for Christians, pshah! Sitting there for eternity waiting for the Messiah (to do what?) seems like Hell to me. Simply thinking "ashes to ashes and dust to dust" is the most rational thought, but then again I do believe that there are ethereal spirits, ghosts if you may. So that leaves me...... in doubt. The Buddha says there is the Middle Way, which in this instance would seem to be to leave yourself open to the Mystery. Ah, well that is out in the future, and today is now. I best stick with it there I suppose.