Sunday, June 28, 2009

I Ran

The traffic was heavy at morning rush hour along Staples Mill Road past the Amtrak station. Mindful of gasoline economy and environmental pollution, we opted to walk the block and a half separating us from a caffeine boost at Dunkin’ Donuts. No crosswalks defined pedestrian safety zones for crossing at the intersection. A sidewalk offered safe passage to walkers, although scattered pebbles and random tufts of grass suggested lack of use in this auto-dependent, strip mall-saturated suburb of Richmond.

Spying a break in traffic between signals, we (unlawfully) stepped onto the six-lane highway and began to cross at a brisk walk. As we reached the midpoint, traffic began to move, devouring the gap between us.

Move out! every instinct screamed at me. Before I realized it, my mind had leapt past the assessment, judgment and decision processes, bringing me directly to action: Run!
With Michael keeping pace at my side, a brisk sprint brought me safely, with margin to spare, to the far side of this heavily traveled roadway.

Without a conscious thought, I had run for the first time in almost three years! I feel as if I have leapt a giant chasm on the way to recovery. Recently I have been subliminally aware that I was approaching a milestone: pushing myself to the next level of my treadmill workout by adding sprint intervals. Now the real life spontaneous evidence has forced me to accept that I am ready to move on without delay.

A sense of capability floods my being. I am grateful to have your company; your support has put wings on my feet and determination in my heart.

Stay well!

Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: June 28, 2009

Friday, June 26, 2009

"Relay for Life"

This is the third year I have qualified to participate as a cancer Survivor in this nationally sponsored, locally organized event and the first time I have been able to attend. Not being much given to social welfare gatherings that throw together persons largely unknown to one another who nevertheless share support for the designated cause, I set off with a sense of obligation rather than anticipation to join fellow survivors, their caregivers and other concerned parties.

The event was not a cookie-cutter replication of scripted, rah-rah half-time style boosterism to court media attention. The keynote theme is HOPE. Cynically, I suppose, and subconsciously I expected to hear: “Look what we are doing for you to keep your hope alive.” What I heard instead was an appeal to reach out to each other for support and inspiration. The unexpected turn-around rattled loose my expectations, allowing me to hear a broader message with diverse meanings.

It was a moving event, especially so to see persons with illness far more advanced than mine smiling, their eyes triumphant as they completed the quarter-mile course, their caregivers beaming at their sides.

Despite the size of the gathering and my negative expectations, I felt a one-on-one connection with the employee of a local retirement community who packed the box lunch I enjoyed. I could envision a person spreading the tuna fish salad on a roll and filling the deviled eggs, then, with heart, assembling the contents and sending it out directly to me. The idea that someone who didn’t even know me would reach out to me in that caring manner was comforting. The gesture reinforced my commitment to keep stepping along with a positive attitude toward whatever outcome awaits me.

Stay well!


Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: June 26, 2009

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Comforts of Family

One of my six brothers just departed after a four day stay. Each family visit has its own flavor depending on the menu of participants and the recipes of current and past events that evoke the aroma of emotions long dormant.

If the Gallup organization were looking for a poll sample they would have no need to look further than our family for diversity of age and occupation. From the oldest (me) to the youngest covers a span of 16 years, a generation’s worth of viewpoints. So, when I want support, I call the siblings closest to my age in the family lineup. Their viewpoint is more likely to incline towards mine where wisdom is measured by the extent of life experience. They are less skeptical of an older sister’s dicta, since the divergence between their life experience and mine is smaller.

When I want to open windows and let in the fresh air of contemporary thinking, I consult with the younger end of the family. If I hear “Hey, dude, what’s up?” I know I have reached back far enough to connect with the entire spectrum of contemporary opinion.

We have an attorney, an editor, a teacher, a retired marketer (me), a computer genius, a retired clamdigger, a retired phlebotomist (now a professional grandmother), a mechanical whiz, and a retired quality control specialist and former Marine. And that is just siblings; the range of occupations becomes yet more diverse if you include spouses, children and grandchildren, cousins, nieces and nephews.

If it takes a village to raise a child (thank you, Hillary), then it required an entire suburb to raise the Chapmans.

Stay well!

Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: June 10, 2009

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Uncertainty

The final piece of April’s blood analysis has dropped into place with mixed results. CEA (CarcinoEmbryonic Antigen) monitors the creation of new cancer cells. A decline in the cell count indicates improvement in the body’s ability to curb cancer cell generation. April’s report is down 28% from January’s. Of nine consecutive measures since the beginning of my participation in the experimental drug study in August 2007, seven declined from the previous measure.

The second measure is the Calcitonin level, specific to the thyroid function. A decline indicates less cancerous activity than before. The April results are up 34% from January’s total, continuing an erratic up and down pattern: four of the last nine measures increased and five declined.

The two measures do not track each other. True, they measure different aspects of cancer activity. But I would feel far better if they marched, shoulder to shoulder, in the same direction (down!). I feel the disappointment a child might upon hearing disappointing news after months of effort to conform to a discipline believed beneficial but displaying snail-slow results: “I did everything you said, and it hasn’t turned out all right. At least not enough to calm my fears.”

The three doctors (two of whom are oncologists) who monitor my status vis-à-vis cancer don’t share my concern about erratic results. Far more significant, they say, is the overall improvement: reduced intensity of chemotherapy side effects, thicker hair, returning strength, reduced fatigue and nausea, and weight stability. Listen to your body, they say; trust what it tells you. I hesitate to trust my interpretation of where I am because I cannot measure or quantify the weighty bias of hope. My personal bête noir, the unrealistic, storybook ideal of perfection, lures me on while cunningly remaining just beyond grasp.

Stay well!

Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: June 4, 2009