Saturday, March 17, 2018

It’s ALL Good! It’s ALL God!

October 21, 2009 by  
Filed under Patricia's Journey

It’s Chemo #2.  And in this corner, the returning champion, Patricia Rapp.

Oncology is behind and it’s only 10:30 am.  And this is Hawaii, so that means relax.  We’ll get you in; we just have no idea when.  Living here means you adjust your inner clock to Hawaii time and that is a good thing.  Things move slower comparative to the mainland.  You soon learn they move at just the right pace.  No hurries.  It will all get done.  It flows. People are genuinely kind.  Drivers are courteous.  What’s the rush?  You can only go so far in any one direction.  I have yet to use the horn on my car. I’ve lived here 16 months and haven’t had the need to honk at anyone or be honked at. We’re all on the same small island.  Let’s figure out how to make it work.  Perhaps we could overlay that attitude on the entire planet.

My name is called at 1:20 pm.  Back in the chemo room, there are about ten lazy boy recliners lined up on the perimeter of the room.   Lazy boys.  I’m from the midwest, so I’m right at home.  The nurses are cleaning them between each use.  I comment that this is the unglamorous part of their job.  ”We do it all”, she responds.

It’s an interesting club to which we belong.  We are all here for the same reason.  We notice each other but no one says much. You can’t deny the physical reality of your experience in this room.  I wonder what each person’s story is.  What is their diagnosis, their prognosis, their fears and desires?  When did they first become ill?  How did their family react?  Has this changed their relationship with God, if they have one?  And if they don’t have one, has that changed? What has it brought them closer to knowing?

Barbara is her name.  She is one of those angel nurses.  The kind that you know would be the only thing worthwhile about being ill.  She is a teacher at heart, explaining everything she is doing and why it’s being done.  She looks you in the eye and sees you. She genuinely cares.  Silently I thank God for her care today.  Verbally I thank her for her care today.  She must know she makes a difference for me.  She is what patients call “a good poker”.  If you have ever had a painful poke with a needle, you appreciate a good poker.  I don’t have herculean veins, so it is a feat. While the IV needle is inserted, I close my eyes.  One, because I do not like needles and two, for my prayer.  It is always the same.

God, take this chemotherapy to all the places in my body that require this support.  Thank you for the Divine Essence in this drug. It is all of God.  I ask that  each and every cell of my body wake up to the knowing of it’s inherent Divine Intelligence and remembering its wholeness and perfect health.  I ask that each and every cell radiate with Your Divine Light knowing wherever Divine Love exists, there cannot be any room for darkness and disease.  Thank you for the privilege of being Your messenger and infusing me with the strength and courage to be of service.  And so it is.

The chemotherapy drug I am receiving is Taxol. It belongs to a class of chemotherapy drugs called plant alkaloids. Plant alkaloids are made from plants and are cell-cycle specific, meaning they attack the cells during various phases of division. Nicholas, my chinese natural healing practitioner, said that taxol is well tolerated and has some intelligence.  That is a good thing. We like intelligent drugs.  Taxol is made from the bark of the Pacific Yew tree (taxus).  Along with Taxol, I receive Steroids and Benadryl. Steroids address chemo side effects such as drug rejection and nausea.  Benadryl addresses nausea as well.

Each treatment chair has its own TV and remote.  I’m watching my favorite channel, HGTV, and the channel keeps changing.  I’m looking at the remote thinking I’m accidentally hitting it, and I change the channel back.  Shortly, it changes again and the volume goes way up.  I change it back. It immediately changes again and the volume goes down.  Puzzled, I change it back.  It changes again to a football game and the volume goes up.  I’m sure you are way ahead of me by now :)  This actually went on a couple more times before I looked around and noticed the gentleman to my right.  He’s in his chair holding the remote up in the air, changing the channels on his TV and mine!  I just laughed and decided to read my book.

The total chair time is about three hours from start to finish.  Two hours of that is actual chemotherapy.  Your blood pressure is taken twice during that time.

Lisa floats in and out of the room, ever vigilant, the consummate care giver.  She let me take her picture today holding my sign. She gave me permission to put her photo up provided she could appear undercover!  She is a private, intelligent, committed, giving, grounded woman.  The blessings she brings into my life are above and beyond what I could have hoped for in a friend and caregiver.

Lisa, Caregiver Extraordinare!

Lisa, Caregiver Extraordinaire!

“When mystics use the word love, they use it very carefully — in the deeply spiritual sense, where to love is to know; to love is to act. If you really love, from the depths of your Consciousness, that love gives you a native wisdom. You perceive the needs of others intuitively and clearly, with detachment from any personal desires; and you know how to act creatively to meet those needs, dexterously surmounting any obstacle that comes in the way. Such is the immense, driving power of love.”

– Eknath Easwaran

Is there a Lisa in your life?  Are you a Lisa for someone else?  Can we all be a Lisa in some small way for another, just for today?

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