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Miracles, Magic and Coincidence

Having been a witness to a miracle and all the magic things which happened around it (see this) has taken me a quantum leap in consciousness.  When trying to put into words what happened, I get to a point where it even sounds to me that I am talking nonsense.  I talk about God when I really can’t even grasp the concept.  Some, I’m certain, believe that I’m talking about the dude with the pink gown who is painted on the Sistine Chapel ceiling.   I talk about miracles, synchronicity, time as an illusion, dimensions, portals and things of which I have no direct knowledge; but, I have a gut feeling are part of some experience I am currently having or about to have…or possibly had all my life.

Last night I was trying to explain all this information to Doug and he seems to get nearly angry the more I talked.  I don’t really even know where the ideas and concepts are coming from but seem to just know something which I am supposed to pass along.

Time: I talk about linear time as an illusion–this is one of the things which really made Doug angry.  He said we must share the concept of linear time in order to be able to talk about events from the same frame of reference.  I didn’t disagree but jumped to the idea that words themselves are a limitation (I have often talked about how our minds are trapped in a word prison) at which point Doug got even more frustrated with me because we must use words, as well as time, to communicate.  Doug is very down to earth when it comes to my spacy ideas.

Let me just give you a litany of the concepts in a condensed form which went through my mind as I lay in bed last night:

  1. Time as an illusion.  I believe that quantum physics has already proven this through the concept of quantum entanglement.  Einstein was so freaked out by the concept he called it “spooky action at a distance.”
  2. The deliberate disclosure of UFOs is coming in dribs and drabs because many of influence in this world believe such a revelation would, basically, cause the collapse of society.
  3. Aliens: I talked about them as hypothetically more advanced than we are and that, in human history, when human colonizers came in contact with a primitive culture they destroyed it by smashing the ideals and mores of the culture, spreading disease and enslaving their fellow beings.  Is this a possibility?  Only if the “aliens” are colonizers but it is possible they are here for some other purpose.
  4. Time can be bent and traveled through, like traveling from dimension to dimension.  Quantum physics talks about concepts of parallel universes and even Stephen Hawking was working during his death on the concept of “multi-verses”.
  5. Spirituality and coincidence have been a big part of Doug and I’s recent journey through cancer and the healing process.  I have written many of the events down, some I have not, which are too coincidental to be a coincidence.  Carl Jung referred to this concept as Synchronicity.

Most recently the magical, coincidental events which have taken place on this ride through consciousness and healing are the following:

Over Doug and I’s last year of “tribulation”, we lost one of our beloved dogs, Hanna.  At Doug’s new job, the girl he is replacing is named Hanna.  The man who hired Doug is named Matt.  Matt announced his departure from the store on Doug’s first day: Doug’s hiring was the last official act of this manager who appeared to be much loved by his subordinates some of whom cried at his announcement.  Matt is going to Nebraska Furniture Mart.  Doug was born in Nebraska and owns stock in the company in the form of Berkshire Hathaway.  Lastly, I have referred to in this blog the book of Matthew with reference to chapter 6–this reference is part of what I call the “worry project “(which is having some results) and is ongoing. 

 

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Empty

This house is too empty.  For nearly thirty years, Doug and I haven’t spent many nights apart.  I have never spent one in this house alone.  We think the same thoughts quite often as if our souls have been entangled together outside of space and time.  He is resting now.  He is in the safest place he can be…with those who can ease his suffering.

 

Fried

Doug’s body looks fried, seared, like a Hiroshima victim.   He has to go to the bathroom every two hours, just brown water. He is barely eating, some small bits of applesauce. I keep forcing fluids on him, Gatorade.  He hardly moves from the chair in the living room. He doesn’t even have emotions: no smiles or tears.  He is a pain zombie.  He asked me to say a prayer out loud with him and I broke down, crying, heaving…not ready yet; but, now it is time.  I will hold his hand and say the prayer for him.

Danger

It is never dangerous to be happy.  I thought I had learned this in the last year but I had not.  We lost both of our dogs within five weeks of each other.  Then, Doug was diagnosed with this awful cancer.  Prior to these events of seemingly pointless cruelty and suffering, I had learned a phrase which I was beginning to use with increasing frequency.

“I am really happy right now.”

It was as if I had finally learned the true path to happiness.  Without looking back, or forward, without the qualification of my perceived lack, or my history of pain, or my fear of death, or my inability to see with clarity…I am right now, in this very moment, happy.  I could smile.

Now, it is time to learn again that, despite the current external events, I can rediscover the infinite moment of happiness during which God and I laugh together.

It is never dangerous to be happy.

 

Pretending: It Isn’t Real

This week things get real: the chemicals, the radiation, the possible complications, the possibility of the event we all pretend isn’t real…you know the one: death.  Oh IT is coming alright, eventually (Though neither of us thinks it’s this time); but, one never makes a conscious decision to actually live facing the fact of death.  I remember reading a book where a man said to himself each morning: “Today could be the day”.

Death is the only one event we will all face and yet pretending it isn’t real seems the only way to happily survive in the face of the truth.

I’ve read many spiritual tomes from the Bible to just about everything Wayne Dyer wrote, the Tao, the Tibetan Book of the Dead…on and on and on; yet, I continue to live in opposition to the main thing all of these books address—death and its consequences.  Maybe it is time I start taking another look at things more seriously.  Life is a temporary condition, however, I have this deep knowing in my heart that consciousness is not temporary and survives beyond this physical body.   I have read too many amazing books about near death experiences and reincarnation to think otherwise; at least one of these stories must be true!

If you only read one book in your life, you must read “Man’s Search for Meaning” by Viktor E. Frankl; it will restore your faith there is meaning to the human condition…you may find your own meaning.  I’m going to read it again myself.

The Beginning of Treatment – The Port

Cancer is literally a health roller-coaster of procedures, waiting for results hoping for, and being afraid of, results.  Doug and I both know the fight has just begun; but we feel better about going into it with a really good chance of winning.

Kemper Gallery Cafe
Doug at Kemper Gallery, awesome brunch!

As always is the case, the people helping you a check in for your procedures are totally unconcerned with your situation and are there simply to collect information, and money if necessary.  Once in a while, however, you run into an Angel who seems to come out of nowhere to help you.  We wandered into the huge hospital “pavilion” looking around, slightly confused and clueless where to go.  Behind us appeared a smiling, neatly kept, grey-haired lady who kindly asked, “Can I help you find something?”  Not only, did she direct us where to go but also told us where the next stop would be.

Today Doug is having a port put in for his Chemotherapy.  Unlike me, who has had every type of modern day medical torture from being  prepped for surgery and intubated while conscious, breathed on a respirator (hope you never had to do that: when they suction your lungs, which is a replacement for natural coughing, it feels like they are pulling your guts out with with a giant treble hook.). I once was fed from a feeding tube which I pulled out in the middle of the night; the nurse just rammed it back in place like the stick one uses to check the oil on their car. I’ve had a luke warm enema administered by a cute, young 

Doug in full hospital regalia

nurse (nothing is more humbling than having someone administer an enema) with a handy potty chair right next the bed which I had to use several times. “This hurts me more that it hurts you,” she quipped.  I’ll stop here with the short list because this is Doug’s story.  My point being that Doug, before the recent colonoscopy he had experienced little more than, as far as I know, a simple doctor’s visit.  The oncologist seemed shocked when interviewing Doug about his medical history and he said “no” to EVERYTHING.

Doug has witnessed most of the above happening to me so I know he must be at least a little scared to face what is coming.  I’ll be here as much as I can to give him courage.  He also has Xanax, which he hasn’t used so far. Like war, cancer his hell.  I suppose I’ll try to play the role of Patton who fearlessly, and somewhat crazily, led his troops through WWII. 

“Accept the challenges, so that you may feel the exhilaration of victory.”
—George S. Patton
 
If you haven’t seen the movie “Patton” starring George C. Scott please do.
 
One way chemotherapy is administered is through a port (sometimes called by brand names such as Port-a-cath or Mediport) inserted in your chest during a short outpatient surgery. A port is a small disc made of plastic or metal about the size of a quarter that sits just under the skin. A soft thin tube called a catheter connects the port to a large vein. Your chemotherapy medicines are given through a special needle that fits right into the port. You also can have blood drawn through the port. When all your cycles of chemotherapy are done, the port is removed during another short outpatient procedure.

The CT Scan

The CT scan to determine the stage and spread of Doug’s cancer is tomorrow Nov. 25th at 2pm Central Time.  We are hoping for the best.  Please send prayers and healing thoughts at that time.

Little miracles keep happening; someone is holding Doug’s hand from Heaven.

Hoping Doug’s path ahead is clear.

Some Gastroenterologists are Stranger than Others

Paraphrasing the preliminary “diagnosis”: 

Dr: “Well we found a small polyp that we removed which is of little consequence so you  should probably come back in about five years for another exam. By the way, have you ever had any problem with your rectum?”, as if this were just an afterthought.

Mr. D briefly described some mundane symptoms he had had over the years.

Dr: “Well there’s something strange in there I have never seen before…” (emphasis added) “it’s long and hard, I mean it could be like a wart or something.”

Mr. T at that point was beginning to boil with “doctor disdain” and rudely interjected:

“You mean to tell me that with all your years of experience you have never seen anything like this????”

“Well like I said”, blah, blah, blah.  Everything Dr. Weirdo blathered afterwards has become just a mish mash of bullshit by now.  All that mattered to Mr. T at that point was the open ended, and downright stupid, diagnosis which sounded like something a medical student might say during his first anal exam. AND, this blithering drama queen of a doctor did little to provide anything beyond fear to the patient…”something I have never seen before”?  Really?

Certainly this overpaid moron/fearmonger had seen a cancerous neoplasm before!  Why would someone want to leave a patient with little more than doubt and fear?

Worst of all, this clown of a doctor promised a result of the biopsy, which was taken of the thing he “had never seen before”, by the middle of next week.  Mr. D didn’t get his cancer diagnosis, online or by phone but from a total stranger (equally weird), oncology surgeon he met with the following week…not professional at all Dr. Strange-gastro!  THEN, days after this awful experience Dr. Strange-gastro had the nerve to call Mr. D at work to give him the diagnosis AGAIN!

The writer, Mr T,  doesn’t have much faith in doctors as he has been lead astray by many in the past, the first example of which, he was once told by the head neurologist of a locally famous medical center:

“You will have to take epilepsy medication for the rest of your life,” the Doctor X confidently asserted.

“No I won’t,” said Mr. T; and didn’t. 

As a matter of fact it wasn’t too long after this consultation that Mr. T took himself off of the epilepsy medication (not recommended for readers) and, although having been diagnosed with severe epilepsy, never had another seizure again.  Is this a miracle, coincidence or just sheer force of will.  Mr. T believes it is a miracle achieved by will. 

The point being, for now, that Mr. D’s post-colonoscopy consultation somewhat resemble Peter Seller’s portrayal of Dr. Strangelove in the classic film of the same name.  (Highly recommended as today’s global political situation has come to mirror that of the early 1960s.)