Hold Tight and Pretend It's a Plan

I was driving to my second radiation session in the middle of the day on Wednesday -- yet another clear and sunny, crisp and gorgeous April day.  The leaves have suddenly unfurled on ALL of the trees and we are now under a light green canopy (the proverbial spring green in the crayon box). I ended up cruising down Old Dominion Drive because all the highways were  clogged up. Above the two lane road the trees were touching each other, reaching across from each side, and sunlight was peeking through the branches. It was like being underwater. So I was already smiling when I turned on the radio to WETA, not wanting to hear any news.  And lo and behold, the second movement of Beethoven's Seventh Symphony was coming out of the radio. Now, I don't know very many classical music pieces by heart (to listen to, not to play) but this one was one of the sound tracks of our childhood.  Our parents had records and we played their music whenever we wanted, and Beethoven's Seventh ...

I should probably wait until I have had a few more sessions before I report, but I kind of don't believe it is going to get worse. Maybe it will be tiring but I don't even see why that would be true.  The bottom line: they are so ready for it to be uncomfortable that they make sure to keep the patient so comfortable that nothing seems very bad. It was totally fine. But I will still tell the story because most people don't know what happens down in the basement at the Radiation Oncology department of the hospital. I have one tiny view to share. The first question was, "what size underwear do you wear?"  Then the tech went to rummage around in the closet or something. She arrived with a lovely giant pair of underwear that I did not examine fully but it had a strap that wrapped from the back around underneath and up the front, attaching at the belly. This strap was to stabilize the cylinder that was going to be inserted.  So we are standing there, about three of us...

So there is this whole new concept that I have never spent much time contemplating, but apparently it is well known by people who meditate or who speak a language I haven't learned (therapist type talk).  In the last week, I have been thinking about what I wrote about last Sunday -- A LOT -- because I had my buttons pushed very hard in interactions with the neighbor that was at the heart of the last story. I almost can't remember all that I was feeling last Sunday. I was feeling magnanimous and generous and full of Irish priest hope.  And then by the end of the day I was feeling vengeful and ungenerous and full of unfriendly thoughts.  This went on for about a whole day, and it was quite unsettling. So what is going on with that?  I have the extreme good fortune to have resources: people to talk to, people to help me think, people to bring me back to my normal self.  Out of these conversations came a whole new way of considering the situation. I am amazed at t...

This morning I heard a half an hour an interview with an Irish priest (On Being) who has been running an institute for Peace and Reconciliation in Northern Ireland for a while.  As always with those interviews, he was so articulate and clear with his words, I wanted to write them all down as fast as they were coming out, but I was on my back on the couch (feeling very decadent while a crew was madly unloading a full truckload of vegetables at Dupont Circle, bracing themselves for a very busy morning) and did not. The words that rang the truest for me, at the end, were his assessment that our mission is to live well together. Not to agree, not to necessarily even believe the same things, but to live well together. This seems so fundamental that it almost should not need to be said. The reason it rang true is I have been pondering a problem we have here in our neighborhood. It is delicate and I don't want to say anything that would identify any players, really, but I am going to se...

In the last few days, I do believe the last sore spot on my side has begun to be quiet. When I am swimming, I can feel it sometimes and then I switch to an easier stroke and it settles down. But today I had a very full day of work in Loudoun and I don't feel any surgery effects, only the usual dumb knee. My radiation series has been put off for a second time after I had a brief checkup yesterday. She said she wanted to postpone for another week because there is still more healing to do. I asked her how she knew and she said she could still see stitches in there.  Oh, that's good. I am all for putting it off for another week.  When I go see Dr. Singh, I ask all the questions I want to and she answers them. I especially asked more specifics about the "dilator" or the "medical sex toy" because I wondered why it is important. She had a lot of answers, and said that some people are religiously uncomfortable with the whole idea so the medical world has devised a...

After I came back inside from helping load up the market load, it was still only 6:15 and dark, so I put my nightgown back on and got under my nice soft blanket and lay down on my couch for a while.  I listened to some more of the Michelle Obama book (my entertainment for the last six weeks, in bits) and then moved on to Krista Tippett. As I was idly looking out the window at the new day, I saw a young squirrel diligently trying to collect just the right sized twig from the branch it was sitting on. It sat on its back legs, chewed the twig to the right length, using both hands to stabilize the wood and then started to carry it up the tree.  Somehow it dropped the twig.  Damn.  Went back to find another one.  This time the squirrel chose a shorter piece and went quickly back up the tree. And then it jumped out of my sight. But that's when I knew this squirrel was up to no good, from my point of view. I went upstairs to our bedroom to look out the window, to v...

The Farm to Table movement (chefs finding local farms and using their yummy cherry tomatoes) would seem to have no dark side.  What could possibly go wrong?  I will tell you, from personal experience -- I hope this is not the way it is for all farmers, but I have heard enough to know that this is not unique to us. Restaurants do the same thing as other tenuous businesses, paying their bills as they can.  But they can get into some really bad habits, and farmers seem to feel they have no choice but to let them get away with it.  I am not sure I should name names here, as it might be considered slander or something, but there is a high end, fancy restaurant that opened last year in DC.  We sort of inherited an account with them when we joined forces with another farmer.  The chef had cultivated a relationship with Zach, and had indicated that if he could provide local vegetables all winter long, we would have a very good position with this restaurant -- the...