Playing catchup

It's been a shamefully long time since I've posted any content here.  I've been busy with my writing over at Livejournal, and apparently I only have so much creative force within me at once. ;)  I went on vacation, and when I got back went straight into tech week for the show I was producing; had a two-week run, wrapped and struck on Sunday 6/13 and began rehearsals for my next show on Monday 6/14.  My energy levels are limited, although they are getting better, so I find myself really having to pay attention to what's on the to-do list and to prioritize what HAS to be done versus what I'd like to get done.  It's frustrating, but I just hope things continue to get better.  I think about where I was a year ago, and I can see the improvement. It's just not as fast as I'd like.

A year ago, I was less than two weeks out of surgery for the cancer.  I couldn't sit up for more than 20-30 minutes at a time, for the most part.  I slept on the sofa because walking down the hall to the bedroom was too much for me. I was having horrific tetany symptoms, because my parathyroid wasn't working but the doctors kept trying to wean me off the calcium/vit D regimen. It was good times.

3 weeks out from the surgery was the wedding of a very good friend of mine.  I wasn't cleared to drive and wouldn't have had the stamina anyway, and a dear friend gave up his entire weekend to drive me to CT for the wedding, stay overnight so I could rest, and stop for a few hours at a family party on the way home.  Through the whole weekend he was at my side, ready with a steadying hand or a smile, and he will never, ever know how much that meant to me.  I've tried to tell him, but there really aren't words for it.

4 weeks out of surgery I bought my first home.  I was completely taken advantage of on a couple of different issues, but I'm trusting in the Universe to help me find a resolution. 

8 weeks out of surgery, terrified that permanent damage had been done to my vocal chords and singing ability, I agreed to be a minstrel in the summer Shakespeare. I made it through, and except for one night I botched a whistle reel because I was in too much pain to concentrate, I think no one could really tell I was sick. Of course, that same friend who took me to the wedding was also a minstrel, and now he will say things like "Don't you remember last year at Shakespeare when X happened?" and I have to remind him that I mostly spent the entire run telling myself "don't pass out, don't pass out, don't pass out, whatever you do."

And then, of course, another 4 weeks or so after that I began the radiation treatments. Those wiped me out almost as much as the surgery had - I spent my isolation week laying on the sofa and when I felt up to it I would prop myself up with pillows and read Harry Potter books.  I reread the entire 7 book series in that week.  It's not clear whether I'll have to have more radiation.  I have a nuclear scan scheduled for the fall, when I will be given a small dose of radiation (about 1/50th of what I was given in treatment) and then be somewhat isolated (I haven't gotten the procedures yet; I think I just have to stay away from kids and pregnant women) for a few days and return for an imaging study which will show if anything that was left has grown since last year.  I had a similar scan done after the initial radiation treatment, and it was not fun.  Plus I have to do the low-iodine prep diet for 3 weeks with it, which means no seafood, no dairy, no processed foods, nothing with red dye in it, blah blah blah.  The worst part? No sushi from now until after the scan. =(

 But, I'm alive and my prognosis continues to be "excellent."  I may be frustrated by my lack of energy, but I'm doing better than a lot of people with cancer. And for that, I am grateful.  Even if all I did in this post, mostly, was kvetch.

But as the day of the Summer Solstice draws to a close, I wanted to take a look back at what has been an incredibly difficult, amazing, humbling, moving, insane year.

And to thank the Universe and the Spirit for giving me another year.  I promise to make the most of it.

Music, a magic beyond all we do here....

JK Rowling, author of the phenomenally popular Harry Potter books, has Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore speaking those words in the first book of the mega-watt series. A worthy sentiment that is subsequently completely ignored, as music plays virtually no part in the books or the plotline. Small snippets are included in the movies (which, as any Potter fan is happy to explain at length, do deviate from the books in some rather conspicuous ways), but any music heard directly by the characters (I am excluding, for the moment, the movie scores) is incidental. As a musician, that made me a little sad, but I can't really call JKR out on it. After all, she got millions of people to read, among generations that would not have picked up a book they weren't forced to. She can't solve all the world's problems. (But, perhaps in her next series... hint, hint)

Accepted treatment protocols for my type of cancer involve ingesting radioactive isotopes that ablate (kill) the cancerous cells from the inside-out. However, the treatment leaves the patient radioactive for several months, and for the first 7 days, I had to be in isolation from anyone. Anything I used had to be segregated, and what couldn't be thoroughly rinsed down (ie, books) had to be kept separate for 3 months before others could handle them again. In an effort to keep myself sane (one can only watch so much mindless TV), I decided to re-read the Harry Potter series, in order. It took me almost the entire week to finish, which allowed me to simply put those books in a lined bag and leave them at the back of the closet until January. I hadn't read the books since the final one had been published, and I was reminded again of all the wonderful details of Ms. Rowlings' imagination had to be chopped in the interests of the movies. If your only experience with the Potter-verse is the movies, I strongly encourage you to take the time to READ THE BOOKS. This is not a slam against the movies, which I think are quite well done; it's simply that the books are better. In the history of movies-from-books, I challenge anyone to find a movie that is better than its original source book. In recent memory, the closest example I can come up with is The Color Purple, which I would classify "as good as" the original novel. Even then, it lost some things in translation to the silver screen.

But I started talking about music. As I metioned in my "tweet" last night, I had the good fortune of being 1 of only 5 musicians at the local seisun. This was due, I'm sure, to the Superbowl, but since I am not a football fan, I couldn't have been less interested in "the big game." I only learned who was even playing from talking to people at the pub last night. (But when spring training starts, I warn you, there may be more baseball-related blogs than I originally intended.)

So there I was, in a room with 4 other musicians who were, in no particular order, 3 recording artists (one a former Grammy nominee) and a singer from Ireland who has a wealth of traditional old sean nos songs that the Smithsonian archives would envy. And me. And maybe a dozen or so audience members (again, the Superbowl was on). Normally all those numbers are at least doubled, and it's not as intimidating to participate because there's a wider range of experience and talent. It was only marginally easier for me that I was a "regular" at the seisun before my treatments began, and had gotten very positive feedback from audience and other regulars; also the fact that two of the "professional" musicians have known me since I was a child allowed the butterflies to ease somewhat. Still, rather humbling to be in such phenomenal company. Also humbling to know that I held my own in the song swapping. To have a Grammy-nominated musician (who is, quite honestly, one of the most incredibly talented people I've ever had the pleasure of listening to) ask the origins of the songs I did, and ask me to come back more frequently, was amazing.

As I was undergoing surgery and treatment this summer, I began re-evaluating my priorities. I think it's something anyone with a potentially terminal illness does in varying degrees. I thought about my writing (which I'd all but abandoned), music (which I had taken up again about 18 months previously), art (again, mostly abandoned) and theatre (which I had also begun to do again, with a local community theatre). I thought about what I wanted my life to be, and how to blend that better with the life my circumstances require me to live. This blog, and another (work-related) blog, along with a few more tendrils of artistic endeavor, have been born out of those musings.

So I hope that you'll join me on this journey of self-discovery. Re-evaluate your own priorities. Shape your own future a little better. And most importantly, in the words of Patrick Dennis (quoting his "Auntie Mame"), "Live, live, live! Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death!"