Mets Day 652 - The heart of life

Today I went to GW for a sonogram of my heart, and a test for the pulmonary function of my lungs.  These tests are intended to assess whether either my heart or lungs have been damaged by the ddMVAC chemotherapy, or have some other impairment unrelated to my cancer treatments.  I assume that I'll get the results in a few days.  Hopefully everything will check out. 

Meanwhile, I've been trying to figure out what, if anything, I should be doing differently as a result of the scan earlier this month that showed that my mets were stable.  On the one hand, I can look forward to two or three months where I will be spared from any further therapy.  On the other hand, I know that it is virtually certain that at some point my cancer will continue to spread.  It's hard to make any plans for more than two or three months, because I could have a scan in April that shows additional growth, and then I'll have to decide what treatments I'll have, if any. 

I understand that more than 95% of patients with metastatic bladder cancer die from the disease within 5 years.  In fact, the median time of death is around 18 months.  I'm already past that point.  As time goes on, I know that the odds that my cancer will spread will continue to increase.  I accept that I have no control over the prognosis of the disease.  I have found that my acceptance of that fact has freed me from worrying about the very high likelihood that in the next three years or so, I will die of metastatic bladder cancer.  If it happens, it happens.  As Kahil Gibran wrote,

You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

While I live, I hope to spend my days well.  From now until mid-May, Jennifer and I have committed to care for our granddaughter while Chelsea finishes medical school, and Josh works.  I can think of few ways to better spend my time than helping my family, and caring for my granddaughter.  In that way, I think I have found the heart of life.