Firefights of Life

A dark sky and the sound of heavy rain drew me to the window right outside my office door, and as I stood, and watched the storm swirl I was instantly back to the early 70s and Ranger School as we walked out of the Florida swamps with Hurricane Agnes pounding on our heels.  This memory moment was not about bad storms, but the firefights we live through and how life trauma becomes a piece of who we become.  We were soaked, dirty, tired, but walking proud, for we had just finished our last phase of Ranger training, but this memory moment was also not about pride, but the huge loss I felt as I watched Vietnam kill off friends.  Psychologists tell us that our past personal memories are guided by our current concerns, goals, and self-concept.  Don’t get me wrong when I say this, but I am learning how to live as I prepare to die.  Those of you who know me well, know that my life is about living as fully as I can “today”, and probably understand how my journey and resilience has been strengthened by the huge heart loss I felt as friends died in Vietnam.  What firefights or trauma have you lived through strengthening your journey, resilience and who you have become?

Being and Healing with Nature

Last Monday started my chemo clock.  Day of chemo all the steroids I received are very energizing, but they also robbed me of a good night’s sleep.  Day-2 I was feeling good, but toward the end of day-3, I was getting tired.  A half-day meeting kept me at work on day-4 (Thursday), but when I finally got home in the early afternoon I immediately had to go to bed.  I had decided to take a PTO day on Friday and MaryBeth and I had decided to drive up to the lake house early, but exhaustion kept me in bed until late morning.  Finally, in the early afternoon, I begrudgingly agreed to head to the lake house for we had friends coming up for the weekend. 

Saturday, after sunrise, I lay in our bed and watched the fog dance through the trees.  A little before 7 a.m., I dressed and walked out to our pier.  I could feel the fog as it encircled my legs, and with each breath, I was drawn deeper into just being in the beauty and natural surroundings.  Research shows the natural environment promotes positive emotions, reduces stress hormones, and boosts our immune system.  Selhub in her book, Your Brain on Nature, outlines emerging nature-based therapies and practical nature-based strategies to enhance life.  My nature-based weekend worked, and yesterday and today I feeling so much stronger.  How do you engage yourself in nature every day?  During my work days, I take a few minutes each day to walk the rose gardens at Clark Clinic, or maybe the labyrinth under the four live oaks at the School of Public Health, or the water garden between the Rotary House and Faculty Center.  Each day be responsible and spend just a few minutes of being and healing with nature as your medicine.  What will you do with nature as your healing partner tomorrow?

Mother's Day Tears from Heaven

My mother knew.  She had heard it in the short talks I practiced with her for civics and speech classes in high school.  She read it in my poorly constructed papers, and poorly written sentences in high school English.  She also read it in the poetry I wrote and sent her in the letters from summer church and Boy Scout camps I worked in Louisiana, Texas, and New Hampshire.  She highlighted the lines of poetry, wrote me encouraging words, bundled these letters, tied them with string and saved them for me as a gift after her passing.  My mom dreamed of me being a preacher.  I never doubted after her passing she watched me as I worked intently for years to put my lessons together for the adult Sunday school classes I taught. 

My dad was too tired when home so we had a hard time connecting for years.  Years after my mom passed, I had an opportunity to speak at a meeting in Baton Rouge about wellness and my dad attended the meeting, it was the first time he had heard me speak.  I remember walking out with him as he tightly gripped my hand, and before he got into his car, he held me tightly and wept.  He knew. 

Most days as I put the final sentences of my blog together I feel tears from heaven streaming down my face as I  realize I am trying to describe life lessons my mom and dad tried so hard to give me before they passed.  But now, I feel tears of joy knowing both, in their own way knew someday I’d not only learn these life lessons but pass them onto others.  When was the last time you experienced tears from heaven from mentors, friends, and family?  Life lessons you have learned and are ready to pass on to others.  Thanks, mom!

Pinched Moments

Tuesday of last week, I met with my oncologist and we decided since my white blood cell count was still low we’d hold off my second round of chemo till today.  Today, my second round was scheduled for 7am so I arrived about 10 minutes early to get an angiocatheter placed in a vein for the 90 minutes of treatment.  By 8am, I realized individuals that had come in after me, were being called in before me, and all the anxiety I held off came roaring back in.  Would this be a half day instead of 90 minutes?  Had they lost the order, or mixed me up with someone else?  We all know the feeling, a “pinched moment” when we lose the power of patience and presence that positively energizes our lives. 

Within a few minutes of reporting my concern to the front desk, a nurse took me to an infusion treatment room, started my prep and the pinched moment disappeared.  As the chemo dripped into my veins I slept and dreamed of another pinched moment I had experienced Saturday at the 5K Sprint for Life run walk.  For many years, I have been the MC at the starting and finishing lines, a role I truly enjoy.  Standing on the stage was an awesome sight, looking down at the thousands of runners and walkers who had come to support and honor women and families with ovarian cancer - I could feel warmth in my heart spread throughout my body. 

I remember calling for the Boy Scouts to Present the Colors.  Then Michelle Reed did a beautiful rendition of the National Anthem, and as she sang, “and the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night that our flag was still there”, I could feel the tears streaming down my face as a pinched moment came on.  My experience has been, not all pinched moments are bad, these are moments we live or relive that become pieces of who we are and who we are becoming.  As a soldier in combat, these words held such deep meaning, about all those that had fought and died for me and my freedom, just like the thousands that had lined up to support and honor the individuals and families facing ovarian cancer.  After my chemo, I made a short stop in the Mays Prayer Room, looked out at the garden and gave thanks for pinched moments.  Next time you face a pinched moment feel it in pride, and take a few deep breaths, to bring back the patience and presence that energize our lives.

  

Bravely Believe Bravely Live

My favorite place to teach at MD Anderson is in the simple wood Gazebo on the third floor of Clark Clinic.  It holds about eight chairs inside the Gazebo, and maybe another ten on the outside.  What makes it special is that the minute you step inside it feels like a sanctuary.  Yesterday, I held a morning and afternoon breathing circles in the Gazebo focused on helping patients, caregivers, and employees discover the therapeutic and emotional power of their breath.  After my morning session, I walked around and spent time promoting the afternoon session to departments that were within a short walk.  When I returned to pick up the centerpiece, I had created with a blue Chinese bowl and yellow flowers I found a husband and wife sitting and staring at the centerpiece. 

The husband looked up, “Was this my bowl and flowers?” I told him it was and described how I used it in my breathing circle exercises.  He asks, “Would I lead them through some exercises?”, and after a few minutes of conscious controlled and diaphragmatic breathing, I paused to see how they were doing.  The women said she felt better then ask me if I was a believer, I told her I was and she then told me she was a pancreatic cancer patient and she and her husband had just decided to stop her chemo and decline radiation or any other treatment.  “Her life was now in the Lord’s hands.”  My cancer journey has taught me that we need to believe in our cancer care team, but my importantly we need to believe bravely in our life choices, and bravely live with the potential consequences.  As she talked, I realized we were all looking down at the yellow flowers, flowers bursting with her joy and the reverence of the moment.  Bravely believe – bravely live!

Mindfulness Cues

She had a long dark brown ponytail and soft brown eyes, I had asked her who her life hero was, and she replied without hesitation, “My mom”.  I ask, “Why your mom?”, and as her face lite up she told the story of the courage of a single mom raising a family of three.  We were halfway through a departmental class on mindfulness and we had been talking about how difficult it is to stay mindful as our day unwinds and we so easily stray into the past and future.  I told the class that her mom’s courage is something she now holds dearly and it could serve as mindfulness cue.  Mindfulness cues can be external or internal cues we use to bring ourselves back to being our best at living in the moment.  The last half of the class we made wood bead bracelets designed to be mindfulness cues.  She used black beads for her mom’s hair separated by tiny red beads for the red ribbon that always held her mom’s ponytail.  What mindfulness cues have you set up to be your best at living in the moment?

Getting Out of Our Own Way

There are times in our lives we have to learn how to “get out of our own way” to be creative, happy or to heal.  This is my story.  It starts on a Thursday evening April 14^th as a nurse made me comfortable in an infusion bed and I watched her triple check the chemo I would be given.  She hung several bags from the IV pole, explained one was steroids that would make me feel good that night and the next day, and the other was the docetaxel chemo that would start to drain my energy in a few days.  As I lay in bed feeling the warmth of the infusion flow, I thought if I could organize a project on Friday for the weekend, I would be too busy to be tired.  Leaving the hospital after the infusion I was in a good mood, I had a plan to get me through the weekend, and the next week would be a cinch for I had my teaching, a keynote, an adrenal biopsy, and Friday I would leave for Orlando and the Arts and Science of HP conference.  The past 20+ years I had directed the conference, and was feeling this would be my last, so I had many goodbyes to many good friends.   

Friday, April 15^th, I felt great, rested some, but spent most of the day organizing the tools, plants, and mulch I would need to redo our side garden.  Saturday, I was up early with no time for the fatigue I was beginning to feel.  By late afternoon, I had pulled a ton of weeds, cut bushes, and planted 14, day lilies.  When I finally stopped work, I was exhausted, MaryBeth made me eat supper, but I went right to bed.  Sleep was impossible for my muscle spasms kept up most the night.  Sunday, I slept most of the day, and finally in the afternoon called my oncologists about the muscle spasms.  He told me it was not the chemo, but my muscle overuse. 

Monday, was a flood day, so we all left in the early afternoon and I went home and slept.  Tuesday, I had a webinar to teach, and a luncheon, again I left in the early afternoon feeling weak, went home, and slept.  Wednesday, all the chairs were full at both my breathing circles, and I felt good about my part on an integrative health panel on mindfulness, but by the end of the day, my muscles spasms were back.  That evening, MaryBeth took me to a massage therapist, and walking out I told her, “I’m not sure I can hold me together”.  We got home and my temperature was over 101, after talking to an oncologist she ran to the pharmacy, my fever broke about 3am.  Thursday, I got to work late, about 6:30am and did final preparations for my keynote downtown at 10am.  After the keynote, there were many questions, and I felt good about the talk and my performance but had to rush back to MD Anderson for a noon check-in for a biopsy on my adrenal.  At 6pm as MaryBeth drove me home, I told her to cancel my morning flight to Orlando Friday morning for I was too weak, I would fly out later Friday. 

Friday morning, about 10am, after working for five hours, I was ready to call the airlines and rebook my flight to Orlando.  I was tired, but had a plan, be in Orlando in the afternoon, get a good night sleep and be ready to work the next seven days as the conference director, as I had done the last 20+ years.  Earlier that morning a wellness team member that I had hired 10 years ago, said to me, “Bill, you are too weak, you should skip the conference this year.”  I remember saying to her, “Corinna, when you are my age, you’ll understand why I need to go and say goodbye to friends I’ve had for 30 years”.   United wanted another $400+ for the ticket and $200 for the change fee.  I actually called United twice hoping to get a more sympathetic agent, but after speaking to another agent, I sat with tears streaming down my face.  The whole universe was telling me I was too weak, for weeks everyone had been telling me to rest, but Bill kept getting in my way.  I dried my eyes, and went and told Corinna I was not going, thanked her for her concern, and told her “I would save my goodbyes for another year; I needed to rest and heal”.  When was the last time you needed to get out of your own way to be creative, happy, or to heal?