Alive

I am alive.  But am I living?

The challenges of the past six months, the ongoing difficulties of managing my pain, the uncertainty of the progression of my disease, the constant attention that must be paid to every aspect of my health, the multitude of adjustments and lifestyle changes I've had to make over the last 24 years (and the last 8 months in particular), it all makes me ask the obvious question:  When is it time to stop fighting so damn hard and to start really enjoying what time I have left?

Two ends of the spectrum here:  You fight until you have absolutely nothing left, embracing every medication/cancer trial/experimental drug/alternative treatment, gritting your teeth to capture every last second of life, a one-time-only gift you've been blessed with.  Or:  You focus on making sure that the time you have left is spent on that which is pleasurable and precious and enjoyable and important to you, even if it means giving up some months (or years) of that blessed life.

Quantity vs. quality - how do you know when it's time to trade the one for the other (assuming that you have, as I do, the longevity to actually be able to contemplate that trade off)? What's the tipping point?  What are the signs?  Where's the roadmap that tells you it's time to turn left?  When do you decide to stop believing in miracles?

Although the incidence of this happening has subsided as I've slowly gotten past some of the obstacles of the past 8 months, there are many times recently that I've walked around my house crying to God or I've called one of my loving and supportive friends or family members to ask why I'm being tortured like this; to demand to know why I'm not shown compassion by taking me now before pain and immobility and emaciation and joylessness overtake my body and my mind.  Is this my reward for fighting so hard to stay alive all these years - the dying, the downward spiral is made patently unbearable?  My family is made to watch me deteriorate, saddening them, forcing them to feel helpless to save me?  How is this considered to be living (or living well if you will)?  How is this (dare I say it) fair?

Fortunately, things do seem to be on the upswing for me - my arm has healed with good range of motion and no pain once radiation was completed; medications have been changed to address some ongoing pain issues in my hips and upper legs; weight loss has stabilized and hopefully I will put back on some needed pounds;  and restarted my chemotherapy regimen today to get some systemic relief from the tumors.  So confronting the questions posed above gets back-burnered, they lose a bit of urgency, they fade into the background.  Plans are made for the future and they include a steak dinner with favorite folks, a Mets game (yes, this Yankees fan is trading loyalties for the evening in order to spend time with family), a girls' trip to Savannah and an 80th birthday party in Seattle.

But they will come up again.  Someday.  So I ask you, faithful readers (and this is not a rhetorical question) - What do I do?  Do I stay alive?  Or do I live?  Don't disappoint - I'm counting on your feedback.

Blessings and Love to All.