fiction

My Cancer Journey: Saturday Nights Alright for Fighting

Posted on by kwundrow

T – 29 and holding. I really didn’t think that with the first day off, sans the Holiday, I would be wishing I had received a treatment instead. In my mind the thirty three days is a long time, but when you start counting the weekends and holidays off, it adds up to fifty days. With my first week behind me and still feeling okay, it made sense that I would feel this way and want to just keep going. I suspect I may think differently down the road, but for now it’s just another day of waiting. And so, it’s Saturday night and I want to keep fighting.

I am for the most part still fighting with the notion that I should be feeling worse. After all I do have cancer. At this point it’s biggest marker has been a scratchy throat and some headaches. There is one new development. They had warned me that as the cancer progressed and the treatments along with it, I would begin to lose my sense of taste. It wouldn’t just end, but rather it would fade. As that happened, my sense of what a favorite food should taste like would confuse my brain when it had no taste. What’s worse is that it would not only trick my brain into not wanting it, but to never want it at all. Ironically, the more flavorful the food, the worse it would be. Eventually, all I will want are foods that were already bland to begin with. Well, as of tonight that effect has begun. I shared a pizza with Deb along with some cottage cheese and to top it off, a piece of pumpkin pie for dessert, with whip cream of course. Three of my favorite things, thank you Doris Day for the melody to accompany my reverie. The result, first bite of each tasted just as I expected, flavorful and enjoyable. Bite number two began a downhill slide to something tasting flat and eventually, to needing to push it aside, unfinished and unenjoyed. As much as that pained me, it had to be hard on Deb who has always been a great cook. Not many can ever rival your mother’s cooking, yet in many recipes, she does just that., sorry mom.

I am ordained to keep fighting. I will fight through days off and I will fight with foods that want to trick me. I will be taking this one bite at a time.

A Magical Invitation

Posted on by kwundrow

It had been one of those days. It seemed like every time I got one task completed, the next one fell in my lap. I was leaving a late evening meeting, when she called. I had planned on going home and relaxing, when I saw the missed call from my daughter. My mind ran through the scenarios, ranging from just checking in to needing my help. As my finger poised over the call back option, I entertained letting it go until morning, but could I? The answer to that was I couldn’t, and I called her back.

When she answered, it was obvious she was excited about something. I gathered through her giddiness that she was with my son-in-law and granddaughter in the countryside watching the northern lights.  She was inviting me to come join them and strangely, I was considering turning down her invitation. In my defense, I was tired and it was getting late. It would be a thirty-minute drive and I would have to find this field in the middle of nowhere. I had seen northern lights before and this far south, they were never that impressive, at least for me. But she was so insistent, and my decision was made.

It was all of the thirty-minute drive and without GPS, it would have been a task to find them. They were out in a large, recently picked corn field found just off a barely two-lane country road. As I got out of the car, my daughter approached. “They just stopped she proclaimed, but we are hoping they will start back up soon.” Great, I thought, this is going to turn out like all my other efforts to see northern lights. Just then it happened. It was as if someone had suddenly flipped a light switch in a dark room. The sky filled with reds and greens, shimmering and growing brighter with every passing second. There were towers of red streaming straight up like fireworks. Sometimes, the sky was filled with fan-like displays. The reds faded to orange, and then the greens filled in the gaps. It was a mesmerizing display.

I spent over an hour out there in that field. My daughter and granddaughter were at my side. We stared in awe at the night sky. The northern lights display would have been well worth the effort on its own. But, as I stood there with them, it became clear to me what a gift I would have passed up. She was insistent on my coming out. How had I not realized the true reason I had to come out there? This was what every father craves. It was her invitation to join her. The adventure is so important to her that she needs you there to share it with her.

Standing out in a corn field looking up at the night sky was special because I shared it with her. That invitation I almost ignored made the adventure sweeter, made the experience deeper, made the evening memorable. I can only hope that there will be more invitations, more adventures to share. And above all, that I wouldn’t ever fail to accept that invitation when it comes.

It Almost Got Away

Posted on by kwundrow

I confess. I am older than the smart phone. I even outdate the internet. Gunsmoke was one of my favorite shows when I was a kid. If I wanted to watch that show, I had to plop down in front of my black and white TV at exactly 7:00 pm on Saturday night. If I couldn’t be there at 7:00 pm, usually because my barn chores didn’t finish on time, then I missed it. I couldn’t record it and watch it later. I couldn’t grab the episode I wanted from the internet. And I couldn’t stream it on another channel later. I had one chance to see it.

Moments are like that. You can’t just have them back. Especially the precious ones. It was the summer Jackson turned six. We were at our lake cottage in northern Wisconsin. Just after breakfast the first morning, Jackson came to me with a plea. He asked me to help him fish. It was a logical request considering we had everything we needed to do just that. There was one problem, I didn’t fish.

At that moment I should have told Jackson that I didn’t fish. We should find something else to entertain us that day. That is not what grandpas are allowed to do. We need to seize the moment, to be present. We would learn together. We first had to retrieve the bait. This required Jackson to touch the worms, YUCK! Eventually, with our prize nightcrawler in hand, we got it mounted on the hook. Next up, casting. After two or three clumsy attempts, success! Jackson was fishing and Opa was relieved. You might even say, off the hook.

Suddenly, his bobber ducked below the surface and Jackson did what every first timer does in that moment. He jerked back on his fishing rod and to his surprise and to my shock, Jackson caught his first fish! As Jackson stood, his trophy fish held out proudly in front of him, the mandatory pictures were snapped. And I was there.

There is an often-heard phrase, “Be in the moment.” On that day, and on that dock, I was with my grandson as he experienced the thrill of catching a fish. I was in the moment. If I hadn’t accepted Jackson’s challenge, I would have missed the whole experience. I wasn’t just IN the moment that day, I LIVED the moment. I was present.

It is so easy in our busy lives to miss the moment. We are distracted by our phones and screens. While we watch them, we miss the moment happening right in front of us. The dad so focused on his football game misses his two-year old raising her arms to mimic the classic touch down sign. The dad, so busy, he doesn’t find time to play catch with his daughter. The person we meet, dealing with an illness, but we are so distracted by our own story, we don’t bother to ask how they feel. These are moments we can’t get back. We weren’t present. Just being in a moment isn’t enough. We need to be present. We need to live in the moment.

I will end with another confession, I’m not perfect. As much as I intend to, I am not always in the moment. At some point, I have executed all of those examples. It takes effort to be in the moment, let alone to live in that moment. That day with Jackson serves as my reminder to at least try.