Waiting and Gratitude...

I have been thinking a lot about waiting. Perhaps, because I haven’t been waiting with a sense of ease, lately.

Recently, I had the first blood test in six months to detect the presence of prostate cancer cells in my body. During the weeks before the test, I had to consciously choose something other than fear to replace growing anxiety that the treatment was not working. I was under “should-of-been” attack. I “should-of-been” eating smarter, exercising more, stress-free, ultimately giving health and recovery my best effort.

Of course, I don’t wait in the moment – in the precious present. My approach to waiting is to project my idea of what the future holds into the present.

On December 3^rd I will get another Lupron shot. My $7,500.00 wonder injection (I don’t think that incudes the cost of administering it.)  Personal experience teaches that the side effects get noticeably worse during the three weeks following treatment. As someone who sometimes “future-trips,” the thought of signing on for another six months of this emasculating testosterone-stripper is absurd. Can’t go there. Change the messaging. Gotta get back into today with all it’s mysteries, wonders, joys, regrets and flaws.

Living in the moment… setting both feet firmly in the day maybe the place I have grown the most. Not on my own… I’m constantly seeking help with retraining myself. After all, I was raised, maybe even bred, to be fearful and avoid reality.

Have no idea why, but in third grade I was diagnosed with a duodenal-ulcer. Some still undetermined thing or event made the world a scary place. Seventh grade was ten times worse… frozen with fear to the point I refused to go to school halfway through seventh and for all of eighth. My parents didn’t know what to do.

Mom’s answer was, “Wait until your father comes home.” Dad’s answer was to spank me twice a day with a Ping-Pong paddle or leather-shaving strap. My response? Simple. I refused to get dressed. This went on for months. Beaten before dad left, refusing to change clothes… locked in my room for the day, not allowed to socialize, nothing but my drums, record player and radio, waiting for my dad to come home. A battle of wills that lasted 3 months.

Today it is easy to recognize light years of progress with waiting, waiting to discover wellsprings of hope and possibility. After all, there in my room was Louis Armstrong, Al Jolson, Gershwin, Berlin, Rodgers and Hart. Not to mention, some strange idea of a God that could only be spoken to with the covers over my head so no one would know I was praying.

Today I see that the God I prayed to wasn’t big enough. He was just another authority figure. I needed a God big enough to stop a drunk from beating up on a kid and his dog… a Power capable of healing that family and making it whole.

Back to this recent blood test… six months ago, after a year of Lupron treatment, my PSA was 0.02, making it clinically classified as an “undetectable level.” Last week, my PSA was 0.029. I think this is probably fantastic. My visit to the oncologist on the 3^rd will hopefully confirm good news. The second reading is a product of a “Super-sensitive” version of the test. It reads to the 1/1000^th. The previous version did not. The bottom line for a guy with an advanced and aggressive form of cancer is the treatment is doing what it is supposed to do and I am living in the solution.

In this season of thanksgiving and gratitude, I choose to set my sight on what is good and commendable… a fool for hope and possibility.

 “I may not be the man I want to be; I may not be the man I ought to be; I may not be the man I could be; I may not be the man I truly can be; but praise God, I’m not the man I once was” (Martin Luther King Jr.)

My gratitude grows from a certainty that the best is yet to come. It is worth the wait. Joy comes from sharing the journey with all the extraordinary people who fill my life with laughter, love and visions of soaring… alive and free.

Happy Thanksgiving…