Week of sleep
I finished off a few books last week and in between taking care of some important business I mostly slept. On my chemo weeks I have steroids to help keep me afloat, but I abstained from taking even a half a pill in the past week or longer and the result has been periodic to frequent naps and mornings that have been difficult to find any motivation. This has left my days short and evidently short on writing. I feel so broken for a number of reasons, but the biggest one might be submitting to the fact that my time in Cincinnati is ending.
Friday I made the biggest first step as I applied for an apartment in Batesville. I expect to be approved and have a move in date soon and likely will be moving around the end of April or early May. I also inquired about getting my treatments done in Batesville too. Other than trying to get the medical records and insurance straightened out, the ball should be rolling in the upcoming months. I hate to leave Cincinnati, but I need to be where I need to be. Instead of tripping over myself trying to spend as many weekends as possible there and going through the transition of car rentals and packing; I’m ready to settle. The unknowns that have held me hostage for the past two months have mostly been answered finally. I’ll soon be able to begin moving forward again.
I feel utterly exhausted though.
In re-visiting a book, Being Mortal, I did want to touch base though in how I’ve turned courage into inspiration. I re-read (from the actual paper book) the last chapter and a few nuggets came to light that I wanted to share:
At least two kinds of courage are required in aging and sickness. The first is the courage to confront the reality of mortality – the courage to seek out the truth of what is to be feared and what is to be hoped. Such courage is difficult enough. We have many reasons to shrink from it. But even more daunting is the second kind of courage – the courage to act on the truth we find. The problem is that the wise course is so frequently unclear. For a long while, I thought that this was simply because of uncertainty. When it is hard to know what will happen, it is hard to know what to do. But the challenge, I’ve come to see, is more fundamental than that. One has to decide whether one’s fears or one’s hopes are what should matter most.
I still say get on the Hope Horse. 🙂
He (Gawande) continues regarding his daughter’s piano teacher who is in hospice, but squeezing out a few more lessons before she passed:
Technological society has forgotten what scholars call the “dying role” and its importance to people as life approaches its end. People want to share memories, pass on wisdoms and keepsakes, settle relationships, establish their legacies…
They want to end their stories on their own terms. This role is, observers argue, among life’s most important, for both the dying and those left behind.
This seems to mirror what my past year has been about and what I will continue to achieve as long as I can. Achieve my goals, share my stories, spend time with those who matter, and leave behind more than I could have if I hadn’t be faced with a fatal disease. I keep finding the bright side to my dilemma. I’ll share more about that later, but the chapter I’m about to end in one city will be the beginning of another whether it be a few months or years I’m ready to find the best of a renewed place I was only going to maybe settle to when I retired.
In the eyes of the government as of March 11th I basically will be that – retired.
I have to get back to my book.