A TRIP

Another perfect day on planet Earth. There is no more snow visible with a casual view out may Study window. If I get off my chair and crane my neck, I can still see a pile at the end of our road. Looking out my backdoor, my eyes are greeted by a large pile of snow just off our patio. I tried walking across it and it is not easily transversed. It is no longer deep but it is pure slush and slippery. I took the snow shovel off the patio and stored it in the garage. That is my message to Mother Nature: To Bring On the Spring!

Overall, it has been a perfect Spring for many folks in flood prone areas. The freezing Nights and lack of significant rain has retarded the snow melt and kept Minnesota and Iowa from becoming another Nebraska. Flooding is such a powerful and seeming unforgiving force. I have lived through several and they are awful, as in negative and inspiring awe. When they don't damage property or disturb our well being, they are awe inspiring; water is so powerful.

I am a little tired today. I must be getting old. I drove 153 miles round trip yesterday to visit my radiation doctor. He had nothing to offer, he just wanted to gaze at me and reassure himself that the scans and test that showed I was cancer free were really true. He admitted that he had nothing to offer and he still would like to see me in six months if I am willing. I told him, “You must really love me.” He said, “I do.” A good Doctor.

My whole medical experience was amazing. I wish everybody could have such a good experience. I have never felt more loved and cared for; at the radiation center in Wyoming, Mn., at the hospital in Mora, Mn. and here in St Cloud. They always kept talking about how strong I was, how brave I was etc. etc. I didn't think they were blowing smoke, but I did think it was pep talk everyone received. I wasn't strong or brave or anything else, I just got on the train blessed the conductor and settled back for the ride.

I realized something recently, when I first met the oncologist in Mora he was quite candid without being discouraging. He said men in their eighties do not necessarily respond well to treatment. He said they may have to give me a feeding tube after two weeks of radiation as I may not be able to swallow anymore. His general demeanor was optimistic, so I took his comments as being worse case scenarios.

I think they were impressed at how well I did in the first six weeks or so, that they became very optimistic and I became a patient to watch. Towards the end of the scheduled fifteen weeks of radiation, however, the tumor on one side of the lymph node was stubbornly holding on. They added a sixteenth week of more intense radiation to shrink it. It worked.

I didn't find out until I moved here and started seeing the oncologist in St Cloud that they had all but gave up on me during those last few weeks of radiation when the tumor wouldn't respond. He was embarrassed when he realized he let it slip. He didn't realize he was saying something I hadn't surmised. It was all okay with me and he is a great doctor too, I have been more than blessed.

I don't know how I would have felt if I knew they were having doubts. I was just on the trip. Everything looked okay from my passenger window. I never really contemplated outcomes. It was clear from the start it was a life and death trip.

When I thanked Dr Sood, the radiation doctor, he insisted I owed thanks to myself. I tried to protest but he insisted it was my will that healed me. I got the same message from the technicians who always commented on my strength. They went out of their way to show how impressed they were with me. I don't know. I don't think I am any stronger than anybody else and certainly not braver. I just got on the train and decided to enjoy the ride.

Oh............ one thing occurred to me as I was writing this; I was never afraid, I got on the train without expectation of an outcome. The train might have been labeled life or death, but they were both life to me.

Love and Peace, Gregg