Seeing Beyond Catastrophic Illness

A year after I met Susie I met Elaine who was called to make a difficult journey with melanoma as a travelling companion. "Hoax" speaks of the illusion of finality that death has for us on this side. Lazarus found out about this illusion. A month ago Elaine finished her journey.

There are those luscious inspiring times when we meet someone who has beaten catastrophic illness and gone on to accomplish truly great things in spite of their handicaps. There is not a disease in existence than someone has not been able to beat it. "Comeback" and "Bike Trip" and "Starting Gate" describe the victorious life of a woman, Diane Golden, who had by the age of twelve lost a leg to cancer and during her twenties suffered through two mastectomies and a hysterectomy. I was numb with wonder for days after hearing her speak.

"Respirator" describes another man who was struck down by polio while in medical school. In spite of being fully paralyzed and confined permanently to an iron lung, he was able to complete his training, marry, and carry on a medical practice for forty years. He has had a difficult but truly inspiring journey. One day he will not need his respirator.

A dear friend of mine had one of her close friends critically burned in an industrial accident last year. My friend Elaine went 150 miles each way to tend to Ron while he was in a specialized burn unit in the hospital. His recovery was quite remarkable in its completeness and brevity. "Civility" tells why.

I was put in the situation two years ago of having to tell my dearest friend of the death of a young child in her care. Circumstances necessitated my delaying the telling of this information for two hours. "Ignorance" captures a different perspective on not knowing. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, at least for a while.

Have you ever been in a simply horrific circumstance and found it was suddenly greatly relieved by the simple touch of a gentle hand or the whisper of a kind word? "Empath" describes one who is completely able to identify with the needs and challenges of another. You won't find the word 'empath' in the dictionary.

One afternoon, Rita, who likes to describe herself as my Italian mama was brought to the hospital. That evening at dusk I was called at my office in the hospital to be advised it was suspected she had hepatic carcinoma (not a good thing at all). The ominous "Silhouette" of the hospital against the fading light of day sparked my musing for her. She beat the pronouncements and is well today.

"Prognosis" describes that black eclipsing of the soul that occurs when a physician tells you very grim news. The day becomes cold and windy, warmth of summer quickly forgotten. Yet in the darkness, magic can happen. "Silver Lining" describes some of the magic that Nancy found after having faced grim pronouncements from physicians.

"Fountain" reminds us that in our dark hours we thrive on hope. After hearing a dreaded pronouncement from a physician I often gained renewal beside a fountain inside a tropical conservatory. Today I bask in health. The possibility is there for you as well, when you cast in your offering of hope.

Perhaps the greatest challenge we face is the radical loss of health; the companionship of physical and emotional pain. "Currents" characterizes the uncertainty of life, yet there is a promise of hope as we are carried through life's currents; sometimes being thrown on the rocks of severe illness or relational loss.

"Tumor" portrays the perceived finality of neoplasm run amok in our bodies. Susie and Elaine lost their battles to tumors but their Hope, and mine, says they won the war.

"Virus" describes the emotional and physical carnage that occurs when a viral epidemic sweeps through equatorial Africa. Unseen, unknown, they transform tranquility into horror. Yet, Hope has a place in the viral battlefields of Africa. Belgian nuns died for that Hope in Kenya, fighting disease. They now have permanent immunity.


Hoax

Three weeks ago I met you for the first time. It was late afternoon on one of those impossibly glorious early spring days; vibrant life bursting forth after a long harsh winter. You were the perfect hostess. I was amazed. I had heard you were quite ill, fighting the big one that starts with ‘C’. I couldn't tell. You were too busy living to be sick. I remember that fine meal you made for us, even what you served. Of course, dessert was best. But it always is, isn't it? It seems like the best often comes at the end.

It is still spring. The dogwoods are finished but the azaleas are still looking pretty good. Impatiens are my favorite and they are just starting out, real well. The air conditioner actually came on today. I could lament the high power bill but it’s probably better to celebrate late summer evenings, long walks, and kids frolicking in swimming pools.

Is it right the docs are telling you their bag of tricks is almost empty? You sounded ... so different ... today. I hope you aren't listening to those soothsayers. They have a way of reducing people to statistics. They would make great gamblers; they seem to know numbers. Since when have Life and Hope depended on playing a numbers game?

Ask Lazarus sometime about beating the odds. He knows.


Bike Trip

Mother told me I couldn't do it.
It was foolish to try.
My fear said she was probably right.

Yes, my bike has only one pedal.
I don't have use for another one.
I don't wear but one shoe.

You saw past my limitations.
You believed in my potential.
You wanted me to accept it.

You invited me into life's adventure.
The hills got hard, too hard.
You kept believing.


After the climb, we coasted.


Comeback

Neoplastic blindness brought darkness,
embracing you in cancerous terrors.

Shrouds of gloom eclipsing childhood glee,
carefree memories passed into forgetfulness.

Another, seeing beyond dismal shadows,
illuminated possibilities in your soul.

Confident in your inner visions,
He gave you safe passage to new life.

Sightless, you rode into sunlight,
trusting the hand of your Champion.

Believing in Him, you basked in warmth,
knowing safety in His unfailing strength.

For many seasons the sun shone on you,
then monsoons of mitogenic horror returned.

You fell again, your dream lacerated,
malignant monsters menacing once more.

For another winter, hope frozen in fear,
you shivered in shadows of despair.

A warm hand reaching out, extending,
sought you out in your inner agonies.

He who balanced you in blackest night,
lifted you again onto a seat of Hope.

Before foundations of time it was promised,
He would lift you unto a secure place.

I learned you will cycle in the Olympics,
guided by the unerring torch of His love.


Faith is the promise of things yet unseen.


Currents

We wade into life's uncertain waters,
forfeiting security in firm foundations.

Buoyant with frivolity, faith, fantasy;
Fate carries us beyond archived memory.

Reliving adolescent arboreal adventures,
we leap into the river's enfolding embrace.

Hand in hand we drift onward, downward;
above, dappled canopies resonating with song.

Iridescent impossibilities, curious, inquiring,
show off their airborne entomologic wonders.

Distant thunder, barely audible, quietly screams;
sun-drenched tranquility dispersed by foreboding.

Reality sweeps us into frenzied free fall,
lacerating us on scabrous edges of cold terror.

Neoplastic swirls pulling you under,
I struggle to revive you with Hope.

White water inundating your soul,
we cling to a Promise of still waters.

Evening Star reflected in dusky stillness,
malignant despair transmutes to serenity.

The hoot owl is silent.


Civility

In horrors of darkest pain,
Your voice was there, soothing.

In vast loneliness of despair,
You held his hand, giving Hope.

With warmth of compassionate heart,
You brought him back from the brink.

In grim darkness of thermal anguish,
You filled him with life's radiance.

They say he healed rather quickly.
I don't wonder why this was so.


The best medicines are free.


Empath

Frigid winds blow away warmth of summer,
constellations of future dreams frozen in fear.

Azure skies of contentment give way;
twilight crowding out brilliance of day.

Starless night cloaks my sightless soul,
visions of life pushed beyond memory's edge.

Stumbling in terminal shadows of anguish,
searing pain blinds my fearful eyes to life.

Travelling alone into that uncharted valley,
vast loneliness isolates me from the living.


The dissonance of my silent suffering pausing,
Your Compassionate Presence enters the abyss with me.

Journeying into the horrors of my pain,
sympathetic sentience stirs in Your Soul.

I pause from my tribulations with wonderment,
Your shared torment easing the burden of letting go.

Healing words pushing back malignant despair,
glints of love in Your eyes dispel inner blackness.

In the refreshment of Your tears,
a healing possibility sprouts in my heart.

You will meet me there?


Fountain

In profound darkness we walked;
tribulation of uncertainty before us.

Pain masking brilliance of day,
You were there in our shared gloom.

Frolicking in Your effervescent flow,
feathered messengers chirped assurance.

Myriad coins of the realm glisten;
offerings for unspoken dreams.

In poverty of spirit we made a gift,
mingling secrets with those of others.

Basking in Your alabaster basins,
we shared sumptuous refreshment.

In the tumult of Your cascade,
a sprout of Hope was watered.


My wish has come true.


Ignorance

Smiling, laughing into unlived eras,
your optimism thrives on the unknown.

Placid waters before your bow,
your nescience nurtures Numinous Mercy.

Your future breaking through to my present,
I alone fear turbulence cast before you.

An intermediary in time confronting me,
makes me harbinger of impending anguish.

Cosmic wonders eclipsed by tempest,
circadian darkness mocks imminent pain.

As custodian of somber knowledge,
I grieve for your trials, yet endured.

I bless you with innocence a bit longer,
for sufficient are the cares of today.


Silver Lining

Your name provokes malignant dread,
chasing tranquility into yesterday's dreams.

Neoplastic anxiety contaminates day,
transmuting dazzling brilliance to ominous shadow.

White-coated harbingers of pronouncement,
proclaim your morbid knock at my door.

Searing winds of uncertainty leave me breathless,
teetering, falling back, crying, grieving.

Sleepless nights drive me to exhausted slumber,
cooling incendiary fears of your wrath.

***

Night gives way to dawn's translucence,
illuminating thunderheads of trepidation.

Afternoon showers refreshing my wounded soul,
sprouts of possibility rise in the ashes of my future.

Transected by solar fires, clouds yield,
entrancing me with grand cerulean majesty.

Cosmic jewels mark the Way in coming night,
constellations of friends holding my hands.


Cancer, you have opened my heart to life.


Prognosis

Tropical summer breezes cooling cobalt heavens,
delectate contentment warms my satiated soul.

Feathered celebrants sing melodies of life;
effervescent ocean waves of gentle renewal.

Crustacean curiosities scamper before me,
dancing on sands of crystalline brilliance.

Frolicking in foamy fantasy,
my feet create motifs of jubilation.

Tomorrow holds aureate possibilities,
faith stemming from today's sterling reality.

***

Unnoticed, small harbingers form at empyrean edge,
scudding across the burnished skies of being.

Standing before your throne of judgement,
frigid fear freezes my heart mid-beat.

Overflowed by the thunder of your words,
breakers of dread plunge me in darkness.

Swells of apprehension agitate my spirit;
mottled with panic, hope, anguish, pleas.


Setting sun sends chills through me,
ominous certainty of demise before me.


In the astral diamonds of blackest night,
His glittering Hope is made manifest.


Respirator

Shadow creeps across your spirit,
uncertainty crystallizing in your soul.

Your heart throbbing with dark foreboding,
sacred sleep has been driven from night.

In darkness of night you cry out in loss,
once you danced, made love, laughed, dreamed.

An unseen hideous power robs you,
consigning you to prisons of stillness.

Your sinews rendered impotent,
blessed breath of life eludes you.

Your days merge into endless winter,
myriad joys of summer nearly forgotten.

Engineers keep you breathing,
their machines mocking your vitality.

In the far recesses of your anguish,
Hope germinates, giving grand possibilities.


He shall wipe away every tear from your eyes,
and there shall no longer be any death; there
shall no longer be any mourning, crying, pain.


Silhouette

Learning of your twilight prognosis,
the hospital's brick pile mocks life.

With sullen hulk eclipsing last light,
winter night's edge obscures hope.

Denizens of pathology dwell within,
proclaiming their morbid horrors.

Interior florescent brilliance, blinding,
drives joy into clandestine shadows.

Dreams, fortunes, fantasies foreclosed;
fear and fright accrue ominous interest.

Sleepless, writhing in abject terror;
you see only abysmal blackness.

Ebony of neoplastic dread transforming;
sapphire possibilities ascend.


The Morning Star rises in the East.


Starting Gate

Barriers of dread escalate within.
Yawning chasms mock my mortal terror.

Time suspended between heaven and earth,
starting guns pronounce grand challenge.

Committed, facing bottomless fear,
I push off, leaving surety behind.

Uncertainty, calamity, risk, possibility;
compete for sanity of weightless soul.


Alpine panorama taking sacred breath,
my lost dreams are resuscitated.

Angst sublimating to catharsis,
life power resonates within me.

Euphoric, navigating neoplastic slopes,
possibilities for victory urge me on.

Descending into malignant abysses,
I found life's highest summits.


They say I am in remission.


Struggle

Putting my feet in Your stirrups,
I relinquish firm faith in myself.

Your dependability unknown to me,
I yield closely coveted control.

Our alpine journey cloaked in mystery,
blissful ignorance masks corporal risk.

Burdened with gravity's persistent pull,
we traverse transcendent towers of granite.

Mere steps from the foreboding abyss,
I fight down urges to take the reins.

Inner urges to not believe in You
are as compelling as the chasm is deep.

Fighting fulminant fear of letting go,
we ascend beyond leaden clouds of doubt.

In my own strength I wandered below,
shivering in gray rains of fearfulness.

Trusting in you, not knowing you,
you carry me to grand cerulean vistas.

With You, I can do all things.


Tumor

They tell us you will win,
that the odds are in your favor:
Glioblastoma 98%, life 2%.

For now we empower you with our fear, our pain.
We anguish for those that you have beaten;
those cut down in their springtime.

My young flower spends her day in darkness,
yet the sun brightly shines.
You gloat over your cruel victory.

You tell us to live a life of dread, of fear,
to know only hopelessness, loss, pain.

Another came to tell us "I come that you might have life,
that you might have it abundantly."
He says "And the dead shall rise again."

My flower will bloom again ...

again ...

again ...


Tumor, you have lost!


Virus

Your virulence diminishes equatorial brilliance,
driving us into fearful darkness.

Tropical abundance, exuberant with life,
is silenced in dreaded anticipation.

Unseen, barely alive, without thought,
you crash through the canopy of life.

Invisible harbingers of hopeless horror,
you transmute hope to anguish and pain,

Your crystalline matrix making mockery,
transfigures vitality to languor.

With reckless abandon you vanquish,
only to perish in your carnage of greed.

Fragrant whispers of Hope sooth my soul,
speaking of Something beyond heinous horror.

A still small Voice speaks of One,
who has prepared a Place for me,
in the presence of my enemies.