Morgan Bolt's Blog, page 9
November 14, 2016
November 14th, 2016
I'm feeling more and more fatigued as these 'easy' chemo treatments continue. Simple tasks like laundry or enjoyable pastimes like walking the dogs leave me light-headed and winded. I also absentmindedly skimped on the Biotene mouthwash a couple weeks ago and paid for it with a weirdly-placed mouth sore on the side of my tongue. But if those are the worst side-effects of my current treatment, I'm doing fine. Physically, at least. Emotionally this past week has been a lot rougher.
Shock took hold around 4am on election night. Perhaps if any polls had prepared me for Tuesday night's results, the surprise would have been less. The shock soon gave way to despair. Maybe if, before the election, I had started researching my limited options for health insurance after an ACA repeal, my despair—at least that small part of my despair that I felt for myself—would not have been as deep. As it was I cried for myself, for my wife, and for everyone else who felt despair. I wondered if I could have done more to communicate how parts of the ACA had benefited me and others in similar situations. I felt that I had failed to get my message out to people. Every vote for a candidate who vowed to repeal the ACA felt very personal, which only added to my sadness on behalf of those who had been singled out in much more personal ways during the campaign. I could well imagine the despair felt by people in the minority, be they minorities of language, ethnicity, country of origin, sexual orientation, or religion, even if I could scarcely know the depths of their fears.
Then, in a turn that Master Yoda probably saw coming, that despair turned to anger. I was angry that so many people, nearly half of those who cast ballots, could have voted the way they did. Some of my reasons for being angry were overblown. Some are legitimate. But I know if I had remembered the people who disagreed with me instead of simply seeing numbers of voters, I would not have been so angry, and certainly not at the people themselves. I failed last week to keep love for God and love for others first, and I let anger win. For that, I am sorry.
Today for the first time since the election results rolled in I feel encouraged. I've been part of more constructive conversations about serious issues in the last six days than during the last six weeks, maybe even months. I've talked with people I've known for years and with some I've never met in person. Through it all I've gained a better understanding of the human side of different issues, the people whose stories make different ideas make sense. Yes, not too far in the back of my mind I still feel horror at what may happen to the already-marginalized, and I shudder to think what environmentally disastrous policies may soon be implemented. But I have hope. I have hope that through tough conversations we will make progress and address the underlying causes of many problems facing our society. I have hope that we will all understand the consequences of hatred and work towards mutual respect, especially when we disagree. Most of all though I have hope that God's love will be spread now more than ever. We need it.
Shock took hold around 4am on election night. Perhaps if any polls had prepared me for Tuesday night's results, the surprise would have been less. The shock soon gave way to despair. Maybe if, before the election, I had started researching my limited options for health insurance after an ACA repeal, my despair—at least that small part of my despair that I felt for myself—would not have been as deep. As it was I cried for myself, for my wife, and for everyone else who felt despair. I wondered if I could have done more to communicate how parts of the ACA had benefited me and others in similar situations. I felt that I had failed to get my message out to people. Every vote for a candidate who vowed to repeal the ACA felt very personal, which only added to my sadness on behalf of those who had been singled out in much more personal ways during the campaign. I could well imagine the despair felt by people in the minority, be they minorities of language, ethnicity, country of origin, sexual orientation, or religion, even if I could scarcely know the depths of their fears.
Then, in a turn that Master Yoda probably saw coming, that despair turned to anger. I was angry that so many people, nearly half of those who cast ballots, could have voted the way they did. Some of my reasons for being angry were overblown. Some are legitimate. But I know if I had remembered the people who disagreed with me instead of simply seeing numbers of voters, I would not have been so angry, and certainly not at the people themselves. I failed last week to keep love for God and love for others first, and I let anger win. For that, I am sorry.
Today for the first time since the election results rolled in I feel encouraged. I've been part of more constructive conversations about serious issues in the last six days than during the last six weeks, maybe even months. I've talked with people I've known for years and with some I've never met in person. Through it all I've gained a better understanding of the human side of different issues, the people whose stories make different ideas make sense. Yes, not too far in the back of my mind I still feel horror at what may happen to the already-marginalized, and I shudder to think what environmentally disastrous policies may soon be implemented. But I have hope. I have hope that through tough conversations we will make progress and address the underlying causes of many problems facing our society. I have hope that we will all understand the consequences of hatred and work towards mutual respect, especially when we disagree. Most of all though I have hope that God's love will be spread now more than ever. We need it.
November 7, 2016
November 7th, 2016
Tomorrow we citizens of the U.S. will choose a new President (and many other elected positions). I’m more than ready for this election to be over so we can start the hard work of healing and coming together again. The past year or so I've seen and heard a lot about how this election has divided us to unprecedented extents. I don't mean to minimize how bizarre this year has been politically, how unlike previous campaigns this presidential race and the rhetoric surrounding it has been, but I don't think that's quite correct. We have been more divided before—see "American Civil War”—but that aside I'm not entirely convinced this election really has split the U.S. in two. It seems to me that it has merely shown us how divided we always were, deeper down, below the level of openness any of us were comfortable with, beyond what we disclosed to others.
Sure, the divide has grown as each side attacks the other with increasing vitriol and hate. Yes, it has gotten much harder to find suitable places on each side of the chasm to even build the foundations for a bridge, much less successfully span the gap between us. But the rift between the staunch supporters of each major-party presidential candidate was always there.
Neither major-party presidential candidate has really inspired their followers to stand behind any new causes. They have merely legitimized what their supporters already thought. And that, to me, is more depressing than it is anything else. We have so much more work to do before we really can claim to be a land of opportunity and equality for all. Racism, sexism, bigotry, xenophobia, lies, fear-mongering, corruption, bullying, and, at the root of it all, a blatant lack of respect for basic human dignity have all been normalized over the course of this presidential campaign. Both sides have played a part in some of these. One far more than the other, and I think anyone who is honest with themselves knows which side that is, but to differing extents both major-party candidates—and certainly their supporters—are guilty.
Perhaps it's the social convention banning political discussion from family gatherings for the sake of getting along that deserves some of the blame here; it certainly creates a narrative that discussing politics and getting along are mutually exclusive. When respectful political discourse is not a part of interacting with people we know and love, the stage is set for election years like this. Now most political arguments lurk in semi-anonymous social media feeds where respect is absent and people who disagree with us are nameless, faceless "others." Perhaps if we started discussing real issues with close friends and family more, we might begin to realize why those on the other side think and feel as they do. They usually have a reason.
That may be a good first step, but it might take more than engaging in real, constructive discussions with friends and family. I recently watched the very disappointing Independence Day: Resurgence which, though little more than an excuse to see Jeff Goldblum and some combat between aliens and humans, raised one very interesting point. The premise builds on the first Independence Day film, wherein aliens come to destroy earth and are repelled by ‘Merica and Freedom (it’s not nearly as bad as I make it sound). Twenty years later the world is at peace, having united in the face of a threatening “other” while realizing our common humanity. As a side note, Africa (I don’t recall a reference to a more specific locale than the whole continent) seems to be forgotten when the world united. Warlords there have apparently been fighting aliens in hand-to-tentacle combat since the first movie. I’d say it’s an intentional commentary on how easily we overlook the Third World, but I rather doubt it.
Getting back to my point here. Sometimes it takes something terrible and different to unite people, to make people see that, compared to the new threat, they really have a lot in common. In the Independence Day Movies, it takes an alien invasion for us to put aside our petty differences. Throughout history squabbling groups have allied against a third, more different group. Human nature urges us to band together with those we consider to be like us, the better to defend against those who are different. Viewing the world as an "us vs. them" dichotomy is a simultaneously uniting and dividing force. It all depends on who is in and who is out.
I suspect we will soon see many appeals to patriotism and calls to unify the United States against ISIS, Russia, China, or some other entity. And that’s just as sad as the division within the U.S. right now. Those are still groups of people. I wish the ‘others’ we united against were things like war itself, climate change, and systemic poverty. For me, cancer is a terrible threat we should unite and rally against. There are many other legitimate issues we must work together to solve, but casting our fellow humans in the role of “terrible other” is dangerous at best. That’s how we stay divided.
Repairing the growing rift between those allied with different political parties will be difficult. Those who label themselves—or more often label others—as “liberal” or “conservative” like those are derogatory words seem almost beyond reconciliation. I hope that is not the case. I hope that, whoever gets elected, we can start working together and having real conversations about serious issues. It starts with our conversations, our interactions with the people around us. But it must not come at the cost of unity with people elsewhere.
Sure, the divide has grown as each side attacks the other with increasing vitriol and hate. Yes, it has gotten much harder to find suitable places on each side of the chasm to even build the foundations for a bridge, much less successfully span the gap between us. But the rift between the staunch supporters of each major-party presidential candidate was always there.
Neither major-party presidential candidate has really inspired their followers to stand behind any new causes. They have merely legitimized what their supporters already thought. And that, to me, is more depressing than it is anything else. We have so much more work to do before we really can claim to be a land of opportunity and equality for all. Racism, sexism, bigotry, xenophobia, lies, fear-mongering, corruption, bullying, and, at the root of it all, a blatant lack of respect for basic human dignity have all been normalized over the course of this presidential campaign. Both sides have played a part in some of these. One far more than the other, and I think anyone who is honest with themselves knows which side that is, but to differing extents both major-party candidates—and certainly their supporters—are guilty.
Perhaps it's the social convention banning political discussion from family gatherings for the sake of getting along that deserves some of the blame here; it certainly creates a narrative that discussing politics and getting along are mutually exclusive. When respectful political discourse is not a part of interacting with people we know and love, the stage is set for election years like this. Now most political arguments lurk in semi-anonymous social media feeds where respect is absent and people who disagree with us are nameless, faceless "others." Perhaps if we started discussing real issues with close friends and family more, we might begin to realize why those on the other side think and feel as they do. They usually have a reason.
That may be a good first step, but it might take more than engaging in real, constructive discussions with friends and family. I recently watched the very disappointing Independence Day: Resurgence which, though little more than an excuse to see Jeff Goldblum and some combat between aliens and humans, raised one very interesting point. The premise builds on the first Independence Day film, wherein aliens come to destroy earth and are repelled by ‘Merica and Freedom (it’s not nearly as bad as I make it sound). Twenty years later the world is at peace, having united in the face of a threatening “other” while realizing our common humanity. As a side note, Africa (I don’t recall a reference to a more specific locale than the whole continent) seems to be forgotten when the world united. Warlords there have apparently been fighting aliens in hand-to-tentacle combat since the first movie. I’d say it’s an intentional commentary on how easily we overlook the Third World, but I rather doubt it.
Getting back to my point here. Sometimes it takes something terrible and different to unite people, to make people see that, compared to the new threat, they really have a lot in common. In the Independence Day Movies, it takes an alien invasion for us to put aside our petty differences. Throughout history squabbling groups have allied against a third, more different group. Human nature urges us to band together with those we consider to be like us, the better to defend against those who are different. Viewing the world as an "us vs. them" dichotomy is a simultaneously uniting and dividing force. It all depends on who is in and who is out.
I suspect we will soon see many appeals to patriotism and calls to unify the United States against ISIS, Russia, China, or some other entity. And that’s just as sad as the division within the U.S. right now. Those are still groups of people. I wish the ‘others’ we united against were things like war itself, climate change, and systemic poverty. For me, cancer is a terrible threat we should unite and rally against. There are many other legitimate issues we must work together to solve, but casting our fellow humans in the role of “terrible other” is dangerous at best. That’s how we stay divided.
Repairing the growing rift between those allied with different political parties will be difficult. Those who label themselves—or more often label others—as “liberal” or “conservative” like those are derogatory words seem almost beyond reconciliation. I hope that is not the case. I hope that, whoever gets elected, we can start working together and having real conversations about serious issues. It starts with our conversations, our interactions with the people around us. But it must not come at the cost of unity with people elsewhere.
October 10, 2016
October 10th, 2016
Just a quick housekeeping note. There will be no regular blog posts until the end of the month. I should be able to write here some over the next three weeks but I doubt it will be at my usual Monday evening time. I will be out of the country visiting relatives in Vancouver. That is all!
October 3, 2016
October 3rd, 2016
Seemingly every week brings new lows to the political conversation going on in the United States. We see candidates show less and less concern with (inter)national issues while growing more and more embroiled in personal attacks. The conversations I hear--and more often see on social media--reflect this too. If there ever was a time when people engaged in respectful discourse about opposing viewpoints, it feels long gone. Too often people seem more concerned with proving the opposition wrong than with promoting their own views, and I cannot think of the last time I've heard anyone with the humility to admit they might be wrong, or at least acknowledge that their opinion may not be the only valid one out there. I know I certainly have been guilty of all these things, and more, and I sincerely apologize for any conversations I've been a part of in which I have been less than gracious.
Lately the combination of the unprecedented prevalence of political conversations and their unpleasant tones has begun to really grate on me. More than anything though, I am saddened by the deep discord among Christians. I've seen articles about both major party candidates stating that they are the only right or moral choice for true Christians, come election day. More disturbing is the fierceness with which Christians have begun defending their chosen candidate and attacking both the other candidate and their supporters. I can only shake my head in sadness and disappointment, and, if I'm honest, feel myself agreeing sometimes. And I hate that.
I want to promote peaceful and respectful dialogue, though I find myself sucked in to the mire of political arguments at times; I cannot claim perfection by any means in this area, try as I might to stay respectful. I know as well as anyone how difficult it can be to keep a civil tone, for there are very important issues and serious consequences at stake. But when we stoop to personal attacks, stating our own views as facts or stating facts haughtily as if knowing them makes us better humans somehow, Jesus is not proud of us for being right. When we seek to show we are right and others are wrong, rather than gain a better understanding of other views and respectfully share our own beliefs and the path that led us to hold them, we do not show the rest of the world what it means to follow Christ's teaching and example. When so many Christians spew so much hatred at one another over politics, it makes us a vale of shadows to be avoided, not a light on a hill to be sought.
Yes, there are important differences between the candidates running for office. Our world will likely be rather different with one or the other as President. I have about as much at stake as anyone else, given that my cancer, now a "pre-existing condition," would cost me my health insurance coverage if the Affordable Care Act is repealed, as many politicians want. I do not take lightly the fact that I am alive today thanks to more than a million dollars of medical treatment over the last couple years. I care deeply who gets elected and what they do once in office. But that still gives me no right to yell at anyone about politics, to declare that I am right and that to disagree with me is to be a misinformed idiot who wants to kill cancer patients. No matter how much I might want to at times. One thing cancer has taught me is that you never know what someone else might be going through. If someone posts an inflammatory Facebook status about their political views, answer their anger and frustration with kindness and love. It may not change their mind, but it might be just what they need.
Lately the combination of the unprecedented prevalence of political conversations and their unpleasant tones has begun to really grate on me. More than anything though, I am saddened by the deep discord among Christians. I've seen articles about both major party candidates stating that they are the only right or moral choice for true Christians, come election day. More disturbing is the fierceness with which Christians have begun defending their chosen candidate and attacking both the other candidate and their supporters. I can only shake my head in sadness and disappointment, and, if I'm honest, feel myself agreeing sometimes. And I hate that.
I want to promote peaceful and respectful dialogue, though I find myself sucked in to the mire of political arguments at times; I cannot claim perfection by any means in this area, try as I might to stay respectful. I know as well as anyone how difficult it can be to keep a civil tone, for there are very important issues and serious consequences at stake. But when we stoop to personal attacks, stating our own views as facts or stating facts haughtily as if knowing them makes us better humans somehow, Jesus is not proud of us for being right. When we seek to show we are right and others are wrong, rather than gain a better understanding of other views and respectfully share our own beliefs and the path that led us to hold them, we do not show the rest of the world what it means to follow Christ's teaching and example. When so many Christians spew so much hatred at one another over politics, it makes us a vale of shadows to be avoided, not a light on a hill to be sought.
Yes, there are important differences between the candidates running for office. Our world will likely be rather different with one or the other as President. I have about as much at stake as anyone else, given that my cancer, now a "pre-existing condition," would cost me my health insurance coverage if the Affordable Care Act is repealed, as many politicians want. I do not take lightly the fact that I am alive today thanks to more than a million dollars of medical treatment over the last couple years. I care deeply who gets elected and what they do once in office. But that still gives me no right to yell at anyone about politics, to declare that I am right and that to disagree with me is to be a misinformed idiot who wants to kill cancer patients. No matter how much I might want to at times. One thing cancer has taught me is that you never know what someone else might be going through. If someone posts an inflammatory Facebook status about their political views, answer their anger and frustration with kindness and love. It may not change their mind, but it might be just what they need.
September 26, 2016
September 26th, 2016
Following my semi-planned month off here I am now resuming my weekly blog posts every Monday evening! (Super exciting, I know). I'll start with two pieces of cautiously optimistic news.
First, after a PET and CT scan this past Thursday I received my scan results in record time on Friday afternoon, thanks in no small part to the efforts and persistence of one of our favorite doctors at Sloan Kettering. My apologies to the radiology team who I know was badgered with requests to have my results ready as swiftly as possible; please know that I greatly appreciate your efforts and promptness. Learning my scan results on Friday instead of today made for a much more enjoyable and relaxing weekend, mostly because my scan results were pretty good!
Everything looks stable, with nothing growing a statistically significant amount. The larger spot they were most concerned about on the last scan even shrank a little and became less PET avid, a promising sign. For now I will continue with the chemo regimen I've been doing the last few months, going in to the cancer center in Corning once a week for a pair of infusions and taking a pill at home every evening. Having a chronic cancer might not be an ideal situation, but for now it's alright. It could be far worse. In three months I'll go back to MSKCC and have another set of scans and we'll go from there. These are very encouraging results, and it seems that my current chemotherapy treatments are, at the very least, keeping any remaining spots of disease from growing, if not reducing them slowly. We'll gladly take it.
My second bit of cautiously hopeful news is that a publisher is now reading a sample of the manuscript for my next book and has generously agreed to share their thoughts on it with me. Through my mentor with MSKCC's Visible Ink writing program I was put in touch with someone who works for a sci-fi and fantasy imprint of one of the "big five" publishing houses. Their feedback and advice will no doubt be immensely helpful in my quest to find a publisher eventually. I am, needless to say, greatly indebted to both my Visible Ink mentor and his contact who agreed to critique my writing, and I would be remiss to not thank them here. So, thank you very, very much. I truly appreciate the time you are volunteering to help me out.
I'm taking a hiatus from querying agents until I hear back about my manuscript and have a better idea who might be a good match for it and how to pitch it to them. This gives me more time to write my next few books, which I'm really enjoying getting back in to. I hit 30,000 words recently on the second book in 'The Legacy of Rythka' series, so it's starting to come along, which is certainly exciting. That and finishing home improvement projects (and moving our things back into our once-flooded, newly-renovated room) keeps me pretty busy.
But I don't think I'm going to write any more tonight. Instead I plan to watch the presidential debate, which should prove excellent entertainment. I'm pretty sure that's a bad thing.
First, after a PET and CT scan this past Thursday I received my scan results in record time on Friday afternoon, thanks in no small part to the efforts and persistence of one of our favorite doctors at Sloan Kettering. My apologies to the radiology team who I know was badgered with requests to have my results ready as swiftly as possible; please know that I greatly appreciate your efforts and promptness. Learning my scan results on Friday instead of today made for a much more enjoyable and relaxing weekend, mostly because my scan results were pretty good!
Everything looks stable, with nothing growing a statistically significant amount. The larger spot they were most concerned about on the last scan even shrank a little and became less PET avid, a promising sign. For now I will continue with the chemo regimen I've been doing the last few months, going in to the cancer center in Corning once a week for a pair of infusions and taking a pill at home every evening. Having a chronic cancer might not be an ideal situation, but for now it's alright. It could be far worse. In three months I'll go back to MSKCC and have another set of scans and we'll go from there. These are very encouraging results, and it seems that my current chemotherapy treatments are, at the very least, keeping any remaining spots of disease from growing, if not reducing them slowly. We'll gladly take it.
My second bit of cautiously hopeful news is that a publisher is now reading a sample of the manuscript for my next book and has generously agreed to share their thoughts on it with me. Through my mentor with MSKCC's Visible Ink writing program I was put in touch with someone who works for a sci-fi and fantasy imprint of one of the "big five" publishing houses. Their feedback and advice will no doubt be immensely helpful in my quest to find a publisher eventually. I am, needless to say, greatly indebted to both my Visible Ink mentor and his contact who agreed to critique my writing, and I would be remiss to not thank them here. So, thank you very, very much. I truly appreciate the time you are volunteering to help me out.
I'm taking a hiatus from querying agents until I hear back about my manuscript and have a better idea who might be a good match for it and how to pitch it to them. This gives me more time to write my next few books, which I'm really enjoying getting back in to. I hit 30,000 words recently on the second book in 'The Legacy of Rythka' series, so it's starting to come along, which is certainly exciting. That and finishing home improvement projects (and moving our things back into our once-flooded, newly-renovated room) keeps me pretty busy.
But I don't think I'm going to write any more tonight. Instead I plan to watch the presidential debate, which should prove excellent entertainment. I'm pretty sure that's a bad thing.
August 22, 2016
August 22nd, 2016
This week I finished the final edits for the first book in 'The Legacy of Rythka,' the five-book fantasy series I am working on currently. I've had several other people read it and give their feedback (you know who you are; thanks!) and most recently I've enjoyed the privilege of being part of a writing mentorship program through Sloan Kettering. The Visible Ink program at MSKCC pairs patients with volunteer mentors, successful writers based in New York City. I've gained great insights about fine-tuning my writing, perhaps most importantly removing hundreds of commas from my manuscript. I've known for a while that I tend to throw commas in far too often, but I have a difficult time seeing it on my own. Receiving the level of feedback and advice that I've gotten through this mentoring program has been truly invaluable, and it is enormously relieving to know that my manuscript is at long last thoroughly edited, refined, proofread, and ready to send out.
Now begins in earnest the difficult and time-consuming task of securing an agent who will in turn find a publisher. The whole system and process moves far slower than I'd prefer and seems like a bit of a racket, but there isn't really anything I can do about that. So, I will simply try to send out ten queries a day until someone agrees to represent my work! I've had a handful of agents respond favorably and request a larger sample of my manuscript, but so far none of those have panned out, at least not yet. It's difficult to wait weeks for agents to reply, hoping that at least one of them will take an interest in my book. But it's hardly a foreign experience for me. If there's one thing cancer has given me plenty of practice with it's waiting for results beyond my control. I guess it's appropriate I'd pick a career that, at this stage at least, consists of much of the same.
Now begins in earnest the difficult and time-consuming task of securing an agent who will in turn find a publisher. The whole system and process moves far slower than I'd prefer and seems like a bit of a racket, but there isn't really anything I can do about that. So, I will simply try to send out ten queries a day until someone agrees to represent my work! I've had a handful of agents respond favorably and request a larger sample of my manuscript, but so far none of those have panned out, at least not yet. It's difficult to wait weeks for agents to reply, hoping that at least one of them will take an interest in my book. But it's hardly a foreign experience for me. If there's one thing cancer has given me plenty of practice with it's waiting for results beyond my control. I guess it's appropriate I'd pick a career that, at this stage at least, consists of much of the same.
August 1, 2016
August 1st, 2016
Well, my PET and CT scan results weren't perfect, but they could have been a whole lot worse too! All but one of the lymph nodes they've been tracking are unchanged or smaller since the last scan I had, back in the end of March. One of them is a little larger and more PET active, but not by much. So, yet again, my scans are a bit ambiguous and we have to wait to see what happens. I'll have more scans in eight weeks, after another two rounds of chemo. It still isn't the 'all clear' I really want, but it is also a much more manageable result than many people with DSRCT ever get. I'm extremely fortunate to be getting closer to two years after diagnosis at all, much less in this good of shape. I can still ride rollercoasters, play disc golf, work on landscaping, write, and do pretty much anything else (that doesn't involve lifting more than 40 pounds, at least). As much as I might get annoyed at yet another scan that isn't perfect, I'm also immensely grateful for how well treatment is going right now.
I'll be continuing my current regimen of maintenance chemo--two infusions on Wednesdays and a pill each evening--for at least another eight weeks. Since several of the lymph nodes they're tracking actually decreased, it seems likely that the chemotherapy i'm doing now is making some difference, which is great! It's even quite possible that the one larger lymph node is actually trending down now despite being larger than it was on the scans from March; it may have grown in the time between the scan in March and the start of this current chemo regimen in June. The alternative of course is that the lymph node is cancerous and currently growing, but the next scan in eight weeks will give us a better picture of what's actually happening right now, while I'm going through this phase of treatment. Until the next scan in eight weeks, there's not much else to do but keep on going a day at a time.
I'll be continuing my current regimen of maintenance chemo--two infusions on Wednesdays and a pill each evening--for at least another eight weeks. Since several of the lymph nodes they're tracking actually decreased, it seems likely that the chemotherapy i'm doing now is making some difference, which is great! It's even quite possible that the one larger lymph node is actually trending down now despite being larger than it was on the scans from March; it may have grown in the time between the scan in March and the start of this current chemo regimen in June. The alternative of course is that the lymph node is cancerous and currently growing, but the next scan in eight weeks will give us a better picture of what's actually happening right now, while I'm going through this phase of treatment. Until the next scan in eight weeks, there's not much else to do but keep on going a day at a time.
July 25, 2016
July 25th, 2016
Thursday I'll have my next set of scans. Yet again my future will in large part be determined by their results. I really don't know what to expect, since I've never yet had a clear scan, but I've also had more treatment--surgery, radiation, and chemo--since my last scan. I hope they're clear, but we'll see I suppose. We should hear the results Friday or Monday, and I should be able to let you know what we find out in a week!
July 11, 2016
July 11th, 2016
I spent a blissful few days camping and going to two different theme parks this past week. Only when I arrived back home did I realize just how much had happened while I scarcely paid attention to the news. More people getting shot, more protests, retaliations, and an appalling abundance of hatred, ignorance, and division. More of the same, really, though to an unprecedented extent. It hurts my heart to see lives ended so needlessly, to see situations that should be avoidable repeating themselves over and over, to see disrespect and disregard for others growing all around. Perhaps most disheartening of all is that so little is happening to generate real, meaningful change. It is only a matter of time before we forget the names of those who were recently killed by police and those police officers killed on the job, because the next batch of killings--be it mass shootings, the murders of civilians by police officers, or vice versa--will come all too soon, and will take our attention away from the events of the past week.
I don't really think I have much of anything new to add to the conversation. I don't think anyone does, by this point. We've all voiced our thoughts on these issues far too many times by now, and we will have to voice them too many more times, before anything really changes. The only way I see anything getting resolved is by building relationships and having real conversations in-person with people on all sides of these difficult issues, not by arguing through Facebook comments or other semi-anonymous online forums. We need to stop dehumanizing the 'other side,' whoever they may be. We need to put faces and names and unique personalities to the groups we stereotype. We need to be honest about our own prejudices. Which brings me to my main point here: We need to realize that just about all of us are racist to some extent.
Nearly everyone who claims otherwise is likely either ignorant or dishonest (with themselves, primarily). I don't think I personally know anyone who can truly say they never make a judgement about someone based on their appearance. I know that I judge people based on how they look every day, despite my best efforts. Furthermore I know that sometimes, to some extent, a person's apparent race plays a part in my assessment of them. I try to be conscious of this, and to fight against it, but I know I am not always as vigilant against myself as I ought to be. I know that I sometimes consider race when forming my opinion of others, be it positive or negative, and I suspect that most other people do as well, to varying extents.
Until we acknowledge this, we will never move forward, and racial tension and inequality will continue to flourish. In my experience those who most vehemently deny being racist also most often exhibit racist behavior and beliefs, however subtly. Recognizing our own racism--whether we make negative or positive assumptions based on someone's apparent race--is a critical and little-discussed first step towards fixing anything. I have only realized my own racism far more recently than I would like to admit, and I am still very much a work-in-progress. It’s well past time we all take an honest look at ourselves. Only then can we hope to work toward any meaningful change.
I don't really think I have much of anything new to add to the conversation. I don't think anyone does, by this point. We've all voiced our thoughts on these issues far too many times by now, and we will have to voice them too many more times, before anything really changes. The only way I see anything getting resolved is by building relationships and having real conversations in-person with people on all sides of these difficult issues, not by arguing through Facebook comments or other semi-anonymous online forums. We need to stop dehumanizing the 'other side,' whoever they may be. We need to put faces and names and unique personalities to the groups we stereotype. We need to be honest about our own prejudices. Which brings me to my main point here: We need to realize that just about all of us are racist to some extent.
Nearly everyone who claims otherwise is likely either ignorant or dishonest (with themselves, primarily). I don't think I personally know anyone who can truly say they never make a judgement about someone based on their appearance. I know that I judge people based on how they look every day, despite my best efforts. Furthermore I know that sometimes, to some extent, a person's apparent race plays a part in my assessment of them. I try to be conscious of this, and to fight against it, but I know I am not always as vigilant against myself as I ought to be. I know that I sometimes consider race when forming my opinion of others, be it positive or negative, and I suspect that most other people do as well, to varying extents.
Until we acknowledge this, we will never move forward, and racial tension and inequality will continue to flourish. In my experience those who most vehemently deny being racist also most often exhibit racist behavior and beliefs, however subtly. Recognizing our own racism--whether we make negative or positive assumptions based on someone's apparent race--is a critical and little-discussed first step towards fixing anything. I have only realized my own racism far more recently than I would like to admit, and I am still very much a work-in-progress. It’s well past time we all take an honest look at ourselves. Only then can we hope to work toward any meaningful change.
June 27, 2016
June 27th, 2016
Yesterday I had the privilege of worshipping in South Bend with the church I grew up in. Though it had been a few years--over three I think?--since I had last been to a Sunday morning service there, in several ways it felt like going home. The warm welcome we received only added to the wonderful level of support and generosity we have enjoyed from that congregation since this whole cancer ordeal began. In many ways, I felt like I had never left.
Sure, the church has a new name that I struggle to remember off the top of my head: Church of the Savior (yeah, I googled it just to be sure). Yes, there were dozens of new faces I did not recognize, and many people I would have loved to see but did not get the chance to. But I also got to meet several people I have known only through Facebook or email, and reconnect with a great many old friends. The wonderful Hanstra family, with whom we stayed Saturday night, even managed to put together a lovely cookout after church on just a couple days' notice. We relished (get it? cookout, relish?) the chance to spend more time Sunday afternoon talking with everyone from church who was able to attend.
I think in many ways It felt like I had never left because really, I hadn't. I know I have continually been thought of and prayed for by so many there. I have never left their hearts, nor have they left mine. I cannot help but think that this provides an excellent example of church at its best. It scarcely matters how far away I may live, or how long it has been between visits. This group of brothers and sisters in Christ will always be family.
P.S. apparently "worshipping" is not the standard spelling of the word here in the U.S. but "worshiping" just looks wrong to me.
Sure, the church has a new name that I struggle to remember off the top of my head: Church of the Savior (yeah, I googled it just to be sure). Yes, there were dozens of new faces I did not recognize, and many people I would have loved to see but did not get the chance to. But I also got to meet several people I have known only through Facebook or email, and reconnect with a great many old friends. The wonderful Hanstra family, with whom we stayed Saturday night, even managed to put together a lovely cookout after church on just a couple days' notice. We relished (get it? cookout, relish?) the chance to spend more time Sunday afternoon talking with everyone from church who was able to attend.
I think in many ways It felt like I had never left because really, I hadn't. I know I have continually been thought of and prayed for by so many there. I have never left their hearts, nor have they left mine. I cannot help but think that this provides an excellent example of church at its best. It scarcely matters how far away I may live, or how long it has been between visits. This group of brothers and sisters in Christ will always be family.
P.S. apparently "worshipping" is not the standard spelling of the word here in the U.S. but "worshiping" just looks wrong to me.
