Chemo Day 32 - a good week

This morning I woke up at about 5:30 am, and after emerging from that in-between stage, decided to update my blog.  I typed a couple of deeply profound and moving paragraphs using the iPad, then before posting navigated away to look at the news stories.  When I came back, all of those profound thoughts were gone, and try as I might, I can't reclaim them.  Maybe I was still dreaming after all. 

In any event, this past week had been a good week.  I have tolerated the Gemzar round of chemo with little side effects.  The most noticeable thing is that the roots of my teeth ache.  Not in the I've got a cavity, sensitive to cold or heat ache, but the core of my roots ache.  I'd read that chemo can cause or exacerbate dental pain, but I had felt nothing like that until now.  It's weird how I'm feeling different side effects for each regimen.  But in the big picture, the fact that this is the most prominent side effect means that things have been going relatively well.  Next week is a chemo-free week, so hopefully normalcy will prevail.

Last night I attended my son's one-year sobriety ceremony at an AA meeting. It was moving to hear him speak of his challenges and decision to confront his addiction.  While listening to his sponsor and others speak of the fear that motivated them to use, then finding the courage to challenge their addiction (usually after hitting bottom) and finding the joy in their sobriety, I contemplated the sources of happiness.  I believe that happiness comes from wanting what you've got, not getting what you want.  True joy comes from selfless service to others, not self-gratification.  I thought of Bob Cratchit's declaration, despite the death of his son, of, "I am a happy man. I am a truly happy man." He could not control the events that affected his family's health, but despite them, or perhaps because of them, he was happy with what (and who) he had.

While listening to the speakers last night describe how they were desperately unhappy and using alcohol or drugs to mask their pain, I thought of Jean-Paul Sartre declaration that "hell is other people." For the self-absorbed or those lacking a desire to serve others, I imagine there is truth to that existentialist capitulation.  But I believe that, to those who can reach outside of themselves, and take the time and energy to strengthen and uplift others, that heaven is other people.  I was struck by the fact that a room might contain people who are in either their self-created hell or heaven, depending upon their state of mind and willingness to serve others. 

After the meeting, I told my son's sponsor how my son had asked me (before he committed to sobriety) what gave me happiness, and I told him that I found deep satisfaction in serving others, including my family.  I viewed my work as a form of service to my family, providing for and serving them.  I remember my son looking at me like I had two heads.  That was then.  Now, he gets it.  He seeks out opportunities to help others in the AA community.  He is willing to drive great distances to assist those in need.  He is willing to counsel, support, and encourage others.  In so doing, he is feeding his own soul.  He has found the truth that such acts bless him that gives and him that takes, as Portia spoke:

The quality of mercy is not strain’d, 
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven 
Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless’d; 
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes: 
’Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown; 
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, 
The attribute to awe and majesty, 
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway, 
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, 
It is an attribute to God himself, 
And earthly power doth then show likest God’s 
When mercy seasons justice.

I do not know where this path I walk will take me.  But I am grateful for the insights that I am gaining along the way.  While my cancer may leave me a weaker man, I am hopeful it will also leave me a better man.