Do You Fear Death? Or Is There Something Even Worse?

I've come to the realization that I might be a bit weird. Over and over, various people keep telling me that the way I'm handling my health situation is different (aka: odd, strange, peculiar, freaky) than the way most people deal with similar situations. I guess it's because when I discuss my medical issues, I'm very nonchalant and irreverent about the actual possibility of dying. For example, the past couple of days I've mentioned to a few friends that I applied to take a leave of absence from my grad program for the next semester. Then I explain calmly and without bitterness, "I could have taken a year, but I decided 6 months instead. Because in 6 months I'll either be cured or dead."

See! I talk about it very frankly and even though I'm not happy about the prospect that I might not survive beyond the next 5 years from this diagnosis, I'm also not wallowing in self-pity and depression. People find this attitude surprising, inspiring, shocking, weird, crazy, etc. But what most people don't understand about me is that, since I reached the age of reason, I have never been fearful of my death. The moment you are born you start the march toward death - whether it's 1 minute or 100 years. We're all mortal. Everyone lives, everyone dies. Here's the important thing to remember about life:

"All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."
–Gandalf, The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

Accordingly, I've made my peace with the fact that I might not survive my current medical issues.

No, no, my biggest fear is not my death. There is something far worse for me. I hear the comments now: "Worse?" "What could possibly be worse?" Oh, I have a simple answer: the deaths of those I love. I've never been accepting of loneliness - I hate it with a passion. If I were to lose the people I care about the most, I would be devastated. My own demise isn't terribly important - barely registering as a hiccup in history. But the loss of all my loved ones would be the real tragedy. I couldn't handle it!

Therefore, to the Grim Reaper I say: "When you're ready for me, bring it on! Let's party. But if you're looking to take one of my loved ones, we're going to have problems."  And to the Hypnos (the Greek god of sleep) I say: "Stop waking me at 3:30 in the morning!"

Gandalf's quote in Elvish
Maybe this will be
my next tattoo
...or epitaph

"To Be or Not To Be" is More Than a Question - It's an Adventure!

Do you remember the "choose-your-own-adventure" books from childhood?? Even though I was a little older than the marketed reader for those books, I still found them to be completely fun. Being able to re-read a book and come up with a new story and ending each time - very clever. 

I've mentioned in the past my complete love of Shakespeare! But I never mentioned my complete love of what I think is his best play: Hamlet!  The story of the ill-fated Danish prince is magical for me. Therefore, what happens when you combine a choose-your-own-adventure story with The Tragedy of Hamlet?  You get To Be or Not To Be by Ryan North.

Synopsis: "William Shakespeare’s Hamlet has finally been restored to its original second-person non-linear branching narrative format. I know! What took so long, am I right?

Now it’s up to YOU to decide what happens next. Play as Hamlet and revenge your father’s death. Play as Ophelia and make scientific discoveries. Play as King Hamlet, Sr. and die on the first page!

This deluxe edition features insanely beautiful illustrations for every ending, a book-within-a-book, and lots of ways to stab dudes.

To be or not to be: that is the adventure!" (from the back cover)

Review: Yesterday, a colleague and friend mentioned this book to me and I ran home immediately to download it to my Kindle and I cannot be happier that I did. Web cartoonist, Ryan North's illustrated adventure of the Bard's Hamlet is sheer genius! I adore reading traditional Shakespeare as much as any other English lit major/teacher/nerd does, but this adventure book takes all the genius of Hamlet and multiplies it by a thousand.  The novel starts with the following line:

"Did you know that Shakespeare has completely plagiarized Hamlet from To Be or Not To Be? True Story."  Hilarious!  

Instead of some lame re-writing of Hamlet or a boring reinterpretation of new characters, Ryan North gives you a 700 page do-what-you-will adventure filled with action, sex, murder, chess, pirates, and a narrator that is just judgmental enough to tie the whole thing together perfectly. This book is romantic, epic, and at times self-aware, and allows you to experience Hamlet, Ghost King Hamlet, and Ophelia in ways that stretch the imagination almost to the breaking point. Technically, I have not completed the book yet. (Can one ever truly complete a chooseable-path-adventure book? Probably not, when it has over 3 quadrillion possible paths.) But I have already read large swaths of it, and it does not go wrong. 

Here's the incredible thing about this book - there is a 1-3 month wait for the printed book version, which I have ordered. I don't usually purchase many Kindle books (preferring to have a printed version in my hands), but I needed to get this book as soon as I heard about it. There was no way I was going to wait 1-3 months to experience this adventure. Sadly, the Kindle version doesn't have the illustrations, but that does not detract one iota from this novel. I am completely enchanted and give the book my highest recommendation.

Rating: 10 out of 5 stars  :-)

Fun fact about this book: The author, Ryan North, funded and self-published this book through Kickstarter.  It was the fastest and largest fundraiser in the history of Kickstarter. The book received over 15,000 backers and North raised over $580,000 - the initial goal was $20,000. Slate magazine has a great article about this unprecedented phenom.

My favorite Hamlet - Kenneth Branagh!

Can You Ever Truly Run Away From Your Past?

Pardon me while I vent a bit but I really, really want to know the answer to the above question. Try as I might, I cannot ever seem to run away from my past and it's pissing me off! Listen, I get it - the crap from our past is what makes us who we are, so our past is important. But for futz sake, why is it the things that I most want to move past, forget or just minimize DON'T EVER GO THE EFF AWAY?!!?  I'm reminded of a quote I read recently:

“The past is nothing but a weight. It will build inside of you like a stone. If you hear the past speaking to you, feel it tugging at your back and running its fingers up your spine, the best thing to do is run.”

But sometimes you cannot run fast enough to rid yourselves of the pain and sadness that just weighs you down when you least expect it. I did some research recently on this annoyance and according to one expert, it's all about unfinished business.  Here's the gist of what he says:

"Having unfinished business is like leaving a movie before it is over; you never know the ending. You never know who survives or thrives . . . Perhaps the most serious of unfinished business is that of tattered relationships left to decay. This can be one of the most serious types of unfinished business because it may be the cause of some of the other negative feelings you have from the past . . . Think back on a past relationship that just dissipated and you (or the other person) did nothing to bring the relationship to closure. Bringing closure to this unfinished relationship does not necessarily mean that you have to write the person, call them, or meet with them (although you may choose to, and in some cases you may have to); it means that you are going to take the necessary steps to bring this relationship to its natural end. It can happen as simply as forgiving them in the privacy of your own mind and soul, or sending them an apology for the wrongs you committed. Regardless, the unfinished business of relationships can continue to cause damage to your self-esteem." [emphasis added] 

Fo' shizzle on that bolded sentence.

I've tried so many different methods to find closure on some past relationships but I still feel like I've got unfinished business from those relationships that just will not rest. Well, I suppose I'll just have to keep on keeping on.

I Wouldn't Want to Live in "Night Vale"!

But I love visiting!! I have never been much of a podcast listener, preferring to listen to music, but a friend and colleague has turned me onto the podcast, Welcome to Night Vale. I just adore it! 

Welcome to Night Vale is "a podcast presented as a radio show for the fictional town of Night Vale. It was created by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor, is voiced by Cecil Baldwin, and is published by Commonplace Books. The podcast airs twice a month, and consists of 'news, announcements and advertisements' from the desert town, located 'somewhere in the Southwestern United States'" (Wikipedia). During every episode, a piece of music by an independent artist is introduced as the "weather report". As of late July 2013, it became the number 1 downloaded podcast, surpassing This American Life.

Night Vale is truly a very weird town. It features announcements from the Sheriff's Secret Police, mysterious lights in the night sky, dark hooded figures with unknowable powers, and bizarre cultural events. It is definitely something to be experienced and cannot be accurately described. If you love Stephen King, H.P. Lovecraft, and/or surrealism, this podcast is for you. There are currently approximately 30 episodes, each of which runs from 20-30 minutes - perfect timing for my drive to work. "You can subscribe to this podcast via iTunes or Stitcher or Libsyn or Feedburner or Soundcloud" (Commonplace Books). Give it a listen.

-----------------------

Fun fact of the day: Have you ever heard of a "Vernepator" or "Turnspit" dog? I had not until earlier today. This dog was a short-legged, long-bodied dog bred to run on a wheel that turned meat on a spit so that the meat would cook evenly. Due to the exhaustive work, pairs of these dogs would work in shifts. It is possible that it is through the hard work of the turnspit dog that the adage "every dog has its day" was coined.

On Sundays, these dogs didn't even get a break as they were often taken to church to serve as foot warmers. "One story says that during service at a church in Bath, the Bishop of Gloucester gave a sermon and uttered the line 'It was then that Ezekiel saw the wheel...'. At the mention of the word 'wheel' several turnspit dogs, who had been brought to church as foot warmers, ran for the door" (Wikipedia). This breed of canine is now extinct. A photo of a stuffed 19th century turnspit dog, "Whiskey", can be found on the website, Gathering the Jewels.

Notice the dog at work. Illustration from a book
published in 1800 entitled Remarks on a
Tour to North and South Wales.

Feeling Sad for a Student and Angry at the World!

Yesterday, a new student arrived in my classroom. At this time of the year - three days into the new school year, that's not a surprise. In fact, in my school district, students arriving all year long isn't a surprise, due to the transient populace of Lawrence. Last year, a colleague of mine had a new student arrive in May. What do you do with a student who has missed 7 out of 8 months of school? How about one of my students who went from Lawrence to New York City and back to Lawrence within a month. She discovered that in order to graduate she would have to take the Regents Exam in NY so she returned to Lawrence. 

But I digress. My new students is a quiet, sweet girl. She's one of my Special Ed students. I learned a little later in the day that she had just moved to Lawrence from Boston and didn't know anyone at school. Awww. I've been there. By the time I graduated high school, I had been in 6 different school in three different states. But then I learned one more sad thing about this lovely student. The reason she moved to Lawrence - her grandmother with whom she was living had passed away. But that's not the worst of it. Her grandmother died after a battle with cancer. Seriously?? WTF is wrong with this world! How could it be so cruel to this poor girl. Unfortunately, as I am the only teacher teaching First Year English, she has to be in my class. So this girl, who has just had her world rocked by the loss of her grandmother, who has to move to a new city, and live with a step-aunt, ends up faced with a teacher who will be a daily reminder of her loss! 

When I mentioned this concern to guidance, the counselor said that perhaps I will end up being someone with whom she'll feel a kinship and will feel comfortable because I can understand what she's going through. Which is fine and a great way to look at it, but I responded "what happens if my treatment doesn't work?" The last thing this student needs is to lose a teacher 6 months down the road. Of course, the counselor said to not think of it that way, but I need to deal with the realities of my disease. People will say that I'm being a pessimist but I'm really not. A pessimist would say what happens when...  I said "if". This concern is something that needs to be addressed - especially since I try very hard to bond with all my students and usually succeed! I do not want to hurt this child if my cancer treatment doesn't work. <sigh> Well, there's not much I can do about it. I just hope I don't end up giving this girl nightmares because she's in my class.

Teaching While Undergoing Cancer Treatment...

Even though I spent the better part of the past week and a half on campus preparing for the new school year, classes officially started yesterday and most of my students from last year stopped by to see me during the course of the past two days. Several students commented that they were nervous that I wasn't returning to school but were so excited to see that I was back and disappointed that I wasn't teaching them this year. As they didn't know that I was going through chemotherapy, many students got a bit of shock seeing me sans hair.  (No, I do not wear a wig or any head covering while at school.)  Two students from my Junior class last year (now Seniors) almost got into a physical altercation with a male student who rather innocently asked: "What's with the bald chick down the hall?" From all accounts, my former students went into a rage and wanted to tear him limb from limb. Fortunately, a good friend and colleague of mine was on hand to bring order and reason to the situation. My students are very protective of me and I adore them for it. Although they may have slightly overreacted. 

As exhausting as being a first year teacher was last year, it's nothing compared to being a second-year teacher who is battling cancer and has serious issues with concentrating on anything more intense than People Magazine. Not so strangely though, when I'm in my classroom teaching, I barely notice the nausea, the muscle and joint pain, the neuropathy, the fatigue, the chemo brain. All of those side effects just seem to disappear, but, sadly, return with a vengeance during my off periods or when I arrive home from school. I am completely knackered! That's the power of teaching and doing something you truly love!

This year will be doubly exhausting because I have 5 blocks of Freshman English - four blocks of First Year English and one block of Literacy Workshop I which I co-teach with a colleague. Anyone who teaches Freshman will know how grueling they are to teach and if you've never taught Freshman, just think back to when you were a Freshman. Making that transition from middle school to high school is challenging and you realize that you really don't know anything! That being said, my Freshmen are the most adorable cherubs and I think they appreciate the fact that I was completely upfront and open with them on my cancer battle. It's also a good teachable moment, because whose life has not been impacted by cancer?

I did receive some interesting advice from the head of the English Department which is that I should try to see if I can get a waiver from taking my masters class this upcoming semester, as I am scheduled be in treatment until after Thanksgiving. He believes that traveling down to Boston to attend the class is probably not a great idea and that I might not be up to it.  Fair point and I plan on checking if I can take a sabbatical for a semester. Cancer may just win that battle, but let's hope not the war.

It's nice to be back.

Gelato, Ice Cream or FroYo?

I will admit that I enjoy frozen desserts as much as anyone, but do you have a favorite between gelato, ice cream or froyo? Thanks to the side effects from chemo, I find myself eating more frozen desserts than usual. Quite frankly, some days it's the only thing I can stomach. But is there one that is inherently better than another? I submit it depends, but overall my favorite would be gelato - but it's got to be good gelato. If it's not good gelato, then I'd rather have good ice cream over average gelato. You might say, "But, Sandi, isn't gelato just Italian for ice cream?" "NO! They are different."

The first time I had true gelato was when I vacationed in Italy during the Christmas holidays in 2006. Every night I tried a new gelateria...because, well, you know, I had to taste test them all in order to find the best gelato shop. Quite frankly, eating Italian gelato almost ruined ice cream for me because it's so much better. (By the way, the same thing happened with pizza - pizza in Italy it far superior to the US.) I assume it's because the ingredient are better in Italy. Therefore, when I got home to New York, I tried every gelato shop in the City hoping to find something equal to Italy. Alas, it didn't happen, so I stopped the search. I settled on eating ice cream or frozen yogurt, which are delicious, but aren't gelato. That all changed a few weeks ago, when a friend decided to go to the gelato shop (Dolce Fredo) in Newburyport and I tagged along. I decided to give it a try and found some of the best gelato in the US. Is it as good as Italy? No, but it's pretty close. The best flavor is Bacio - chocolate hazelnut. Oh my - now that is gooooooooood!!!

What makes gelato better than other the frozen desserts? There are several factors: gelato has less fat than ice cream because it's made with milk rather than cream and uses less egg yolks (if any). Ice cream legally has to have a minimum of 10% fat, gelato is 5-7% fat. Gelato is churned at a slower rate which makes it a little more dense and consequently, has a much more intense flavor! Lastly, gelato is served approximately 15 degrees warmer. All these factors makes gelato the better flavored and textured frozen dessert.

Clearly for me, gelato is the winner, but I wouldn't snub any good gelato, ice cream or frozen yogurt. It's the perfect summer dessert or chemo nausea panacea. Which is your favorite?

One of my favorite photos from my Italy trip!

By the by, the other day I tried a York Peppermint Pattie ice cream bar!  Oh my goodness.  Delish!!

Even More Must See Brit TV!

Okay, I know that I should be doing actual work on either grad school BS or lesson planning for Lord of the Flies, but I can't seem to get focused. Chemo brain! Instead, I've been watching some amazing British programmes. Adding to my list of recommended British television shows (More Must See Brit TV, The Best of British TV Dramas, and Do You Enjoy British Humour?  Watch These Shows...) are:  

1. Broadchurch (2013): Starring the very sexy and talented performer, David Tennant (you may remember him from Doctor Who - the 10th (and arguably the best) Doctor), Broadchurch is a television crime drama, involving the death of a young boy and the search for his killer. I have been loving the emotional depth of this show! So often families of murder victims exist merely to give clues for the eventual solution, but in Broadchurch, we are exposed to the grief of a bereft and torn family. The setting is the small fictional seaside town of Broadchurch in Dorset (Southern England). The village setting with its entangled relationships is fertile soil for the twists and tangles of the story. Only a mere 8 episodes, but it is filled with gripping drama. You can catch this show currently on BBC America, although I watched the entire season in two days for free online at CinemaHaven. Season 2 is scheduled for 2014.
2. Peep Show (2003-Present): Starring funny men, David Mitchell and Robert Webb, Peep Show is an award-winning British sitcom. An utterly, blindingly funny show. Its adult content, however, may preclude less prurient viewers from agreeing with my review. Brief summary: the camera acts alternately as either of the central characters in this show - hence the title. They are both deeply flawed individuals, unable to grasp the source of their unmitigated life-failures, let alone find the inner resources to affect any solution. The show is really about pain - and you won't enjoy it unless you are quite capable of laughing at your own. Fortunately, that's something where I excel. The show is currently filming its 9th season. I've only gotten through seasons 1 and 2, but I will continue to watch the antics of these two rather hilarious losers. Peep Show can be found streaming on Netflix and Hulu.

These shows are the two most recent fantastic British programmes that I've come across. I will continue my quest for the Best of Brit television. I am certain there are more brilliant shows out there of which I am unaware.

Do You Have "Ex-Friends"?

Ex-friends are a strange phenomenon to me. I remember eons ago (or so if feels like), a colleague back in my law firm days would tell tale upon tale of all her ex-friends and I found this commentary rather curious. I didn't have ex-friends...at the time. I had no idea what an ex-friend was. Sure, I had friends I didn't see anymore, but that didn't make them ex-friends. Just friends that I lost touch with but they are people I still consider friends. If we were to see each other again, our friendship would still be intact.

I acknowledge that over the years, I have some friends for whom our friendships have grown away each other and we are no longer friends, but I still wouldn't consider them "ex-friends". Just old friends for whom I no longer wished to remain friends. We didn't have a major falling out; we just went our separate ways. In fact, two of those friends recently contacted me due my recent medical woes saying that they were sending me positive thoughts, blah, blah, blah. I thought to myself, "Very nice of them to contact me, but these are two old friends for whom I still no longer wish to remain in contact". I basically ignored their messages. Terrible of me I know, but I have bigger fish fry these days.

Eventually I learned what an ex-friend is. A couple of years ago, a colleague whom I considered one of my closest friends (we would spend holidays together; when we went on business trips, we were inseparable; she arranged a promotion for me; we shared so many of our joys, trials, and tribulations, etc. etc.). But then this supposed very dear friend backstabbed me in a few different ways and I finally understood what an ex-friend is. An ex-friend is someone who does something so heinous that you can no longer be around that person and find it impossible to forgive their actions. Aha! Eureka. Now I understand the ex-friend. So in 47+ years on this great big planet, I have only one ex-friend and a few old friends for which I no longer wish to remain in contact. Not a bad track record. All other friends remain my friends - even those people for whom I no longer see for various reasons, many of whom I miss being in constant contact.

Therefore, what I don't understand are people who have dozens and dozens of ex-friends. If someone has a bevy of ex-friends, is it because the ex-friends are truly such horrible people or is the person just being overly sensitive? What's your take on ex-friends? Do you have ex-friends or just friends that you no longer see?

The Third Chemotherapy Treatment...

Here's where I sit for 5 hours
(the green chair on  the right)

Today was my third round of chemotherapy. You wouldn't think that I would have to report on every chemo treatment, except that occasionally things go awry or are noteworthy.

This week has been a rough week, because I have had an overwhelming amount of work that I have to complete. Between three professional development days, a humongous amount of pointless work in my grad class, and attempting to come up with lesson and unit plans for the start of the new school year for which I have been fairly unsuccessful about completing, I have been feeling incredibly stressed which has led to many a sleepless night of late. Take all those factors and add in battling cancer and what do you think you get? One completely exhausted, overly emotional, and thoroughly panicked person. Therefore, spending 5 hours sitting in a chair tethered to a machine and unable to do any of the actual work that needs completing in preparation for the new school year is only adding to my panic attacks. I'm starting to think that maybe I can't do it all. Funny enough, I'm actually not Wonder Woman. Who knew? But that explains why I don't have the Lasso of Truth - man, how useful would that be!

Today's appointment started with blood and vitals taken, followed by a meeting with the replacement oncologist ("RO"). (My usual oncologist is out on maternity leave.) The RO gave me a very thorough exam and asked me a bunch of questions. He makes for a wonderful replacement for the next couple of months. He even kindly provided me with the two doctor's letters that are required for me (i) to return to work and (ii) apply for intermittent FMLA (just in case I need it). But there's one thing that he's changing, much to my disappointment, and that is my next CT scan. My original oncologist said that she wanted to CT me after the third treatment (today's). The RO is pushing it back until after the fourth treatment. <sigh> So I have minimally another month before I know whether or not these toxins are actually helping my situation. Oh, well. There's nothing I can do about it. It's not like I can go and hold a gun to his head and force him to write the order. Hmmmmm...can I? No, no, I can't.

Next step was, as always, the infusion center. Today was a comedy of errors that was not from human error, but machinery malfunctions. First, when trying to place the needle in the top of my hand, it bent so it couldn't actually pull in the fluid, but that wasn't discovered until 5 minutes after many painful moments of trying to get it to work. The nurse pulled the needle out, saw that it had bent, and then had to find a new spot - which was on the inside of my wrist. Mother effer that's painful! Now I know I have a tattoo in that exact same area, but placement of the needle in this area hurts horribly - much more than my tattoo. Hours later and the site still hurts! Later the infusion machine had a malfunction and needed to reboot. Plus for some reason, which has never happened to me before, toward the end of my 5 hours of treatment, I started to feel really nauseated. I'm not certain if it was from the treatment or if the little bit of pastry I ate didn't sit well with me, all I know is that I felt horrendous - still do.

The last bit of annoyance for the day was the fact that I didn't get as much work done as I wanted - through my fault mostly. With all the comings and goings of other patients, the chatter on the ward, the interruptions to check on my vitals and change my meds, I just couldn't concentrate. Theoretically I should have finished or at least nearly finished the book I'm reading which I need teach in just a little more than a week, but alas I'm only on Chapter 3 of 12 of Lord of the Flies by Nobel-prize winning British author, William Golding.  Part of the problem is that one, I don't really like the book and two, I'm easily distracted (because I don't really like the book). How I am going to get this book read before I start teaching it promises to be interesting. Have I mentioned that I don't really like the book? :-)

All in all, today was not a great day, although as always, the care and commitment of the nursing staff is extraordinary. As I mentioned, I won't know about the efficacy of the treatment for a month, so until then keep your fingers crossed. Wish me luck on getting through the first week of school next week with feeling nauseated, muscle and joint pain, neuropathy, fatigue, and all the rest of the side effects. Ah, it promises to be a craptacular week!

Ouch! This hurt!

Update: iPhone or Android? Which Smartphone is Best?

Back in January, I questioned everyone on which smartphone I should purchase next. My cellphone at the time was getting toward end of life and I couldn't decide between another Android-based phone or switching over to an iPhone. Over the past 8 or 9 years, my PDA/smartphone usage has run through all different types of phones and operating systems. First, I had a Palm Pilot, then a Blackberry, next another Blackberry, and then I purchased the HTC Evo (Android). In May, it was time make a final decision: Android or iPhone. Which did I purchase?  The iPhone.  

What made me choose the iPhone over the Android? It really boiled down to price. When I looked at my options, I could either get an iPhone 4S for $50 (quite frankly it's not worth the extra money to get the iPhone 5) or the Samsung Galaxy for $100. I'm all for saving money. Also, when I looked at the Samsung Galaxy, I found it too big and bulky for a "mobile" phone. Mobile phones should be small, sleek, and portable. The Galaxy feels more like a small tablet and less like a mobile phone. Blech!

Now that I've had the iPhone for a couple of months, I thought I'd give my two cents worth on which is best. Quite frankly, I don't see as one is much better than the other. Each device has their positive and negative aspects. For me, here's the important stuff - both phones need to provide all the features that I require: phone, email, text, internet access, and the very few apps that I use. I'm not a huge app user but both phones provide a multitude of apps - more than I could ever need or want. I do not use the phone to watch videos (I have a laptop and/or television for that), therefore the smaller screen isn't a factor. The Android is customizable, but the lack of customization with the iPhone is not an important enough feature for me to waste an additional $50. I have found that the battery life of the iPhone is superior to the Android. Ergo, I went with the least expensive option.

Yes, I truly like the iPhone, but I probably would have been equally happy with a smaller, sleeker Android-based phone. I would have hated the Galaxy for its over-sized clumsiness. What would I have gotten if the cost and design hadn't been eliminating factors ... hmmm.  I just don't know.

Fun fact:  According to a Nielson survey, women prefer iPhone while men prefer Android. 

Being Loved Despite Flaws and Foibles!

Today I was reading a New York Times OpEd piece from June 15, 2013, written by Tim Kreider and it had such wonderful wisdom that I thought I'd share some of the highlights in this posting. The funny thing about this column is that just minutes before reading this article I had been thinking some very similar thoughts. 

Mr. Kreider mentions about how he received an email which wasn't meant for him, but was about him. Ugh! We've all done something similarly stupid. You respond to an email, making humorous (to you), snarky, or hurtful comments and it accidentally includes the person about which you are writing. Mr. Kreider didn't exactly take offense to what was written...

"What was surprisingly wounding wasn’t that the e-mail was insulting but simply that it was unsympathetic. Hearing other people’s uncensored opinions of you is an unpleasant reminder that you’re just another person in the world, and everyone else does not always view you in the forgiving light that you hope they do, making all allowances, always on your side. There’s something existentially alarming about finding out how little room we occupy, and how little allegiance we command, in other people’s heads" [emphasis added] (Kreider).

That last sentence is unequivocally accurate. Despite my best efforts not to live in the past, I cannot get past a similar thought to Mr. Kreider's - about "what little allegiance we command" from those people for whom we consider friends and family. We'd all like to think that the love and affection from friends and family is absolute. But then he (accurately) points out that we are all guilty of doing the exact same thing:

"Needless to say, this makes us embarrassed and angry and damn our betrayers as vicious two-faced hypocrites. Which, in fact, we all are. We all make fun of one another behind one another’s backs, even the people we love. Of course we do — they’re ridiculous. Anyone worth knowing is inevitably also going to be exasperating: making the same obvious mistakes over and over, dating imbeciles, endlessly relapsing into their dumb addictions and self-defeating habits, blind to their own hilarious flaws and blatant contradictions and fiercely devoted to whatever keeps them miserable. (And those few people about whom there is nothing ridiculous are by far the most preposterous of all.)"  (Kreider)

But does that indicate that we truly don't care about the friend or family member for which we are maligning. Definitely not...

"The operative fallacy here is that we believe that unconditional love means not seeing anything negative about someone, when it really means pretty much the opposite: loving someone despite their infuriating flaws and essential absurdity...We don’t give other people credit for the same interior complexity we take for granted in ourselves, the same capacity for holding contradictory feelings in balance, for complexly alloyed affections, for bottomless generosity of heart and petty, capricious malice. We can’t believe that anyone could be unkind to us and still be genuinely fond of us, although we do it all the time" (Kreider).

Mr. Kreider makes the valid point that even though we may occasionally say things for which others might take offense, it does not mean that we do not care about these people. In fact the opposite is true, we care just as much about them because of their idiosyncrasies. I am struggling how to apply this knowledge to past friendships for which I feel I was intentionally slighted, but I know that there is a overall valid lesson in what Mr. Kreider writes.

You can read the entire text here: I Know What You Think of Me. It's well worth a few minutes out of your life to read.

Really Bad Uses of Facebook!

This morning, I was watching the local news which reported on this following item:

This story just shocks me! Not only does this man kill his wife but he posts about it on Facebook with a picture of her dead body!! What the...???

Then I came across these little tidbits:

• A couple of years ago, an Australian man admitted to killing his daughter after posting "bout 2 kill ma kid" on Facebook.
• Last month, a Florida woman got 21 years in prison for bragging on her Facebook page about stealing $20 million in a case of IRS tax fraud.
• In June 2013, during his trial for assault, a UK man posted the following Facebook status: "I think I got away with it" - gets 46 week sentence.
• Earlier this year, an Oklahoma mom tried to sell her kids for $4,000 on Facebook so she could pay for her boyfriend's bail.
• In 2011, a Philadelphia woman attempted to use Facebook to hire a hit-man for $1,000 to kill her ex-boyfriend and father of her child.

There are a ton of people who post their criminal activity on Facebook. HappyPlace.com has a list of the most idiotic confessions to criminal activity every posted on Facebook. Of course, one of the best postings on Facebook is courtesy of Wayne County Sheriff's Facebook page.

I'm sure we have all posted something on Facebook that we later regret. I know I have (and learned valuable lessons on what not to post), but I've certainly never posted anything of a criminal nature! Facebook is equally wonderful and awful. But some Facebook users take things to the extreme. Let me sum up for any dunderheads out there. 

Do not post your criminal activity on Facebook, morons!

What would you do if a Facebook friend posted about their criminal activity?? Would you turn them in? Ignore their crime? I sincerely hope I don't have friends this immoral and stupid!

"Harold Fry" Makes an "Unlikely Pilgrimage"

Let me ask you a question: Would you be willing to walk 600 miles if you believed that your pilgrimage would save the life of a terminal friend? I would think that most people would answer "no".  Last week, as I was leaving the library with a stack of books, I got to chatting with a fellow book lover. We talked about the books that we had recently read and she recommended a book she just finished reading. After giving me a brief summary of the book, I decided to add British author Rachel Joyce's debut novel, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry to my reading list.

Summary: "Meet Harold Fry, recently retired. He lives in a small English village with his wife, Maureen, who seems irritated by almost everything he does. Little differentiates one day from the next. Then one morning a letter arrives, addressed to Harold in a shaky scrawl, from a woman he hasn’t heard from in twenty years. Cancer patient, Queenie Hennessy is in hospice and is writing to say goodbye. But before Harold mails off a quick reply, a chance encounter convinces him that he absolutely must deliver his message to Queenie in person. In his yachting shoes and light coat, Harold Fry embarks on an urgent quest. Determined to walk six hundred miles to the hospice, Harold believes that as long as he walks, Queenie will live. A novel of charm, humor, and profound insight into the thoughts and feelings we all bury deep within our hearts, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry introduces Rachel Joyce as a wise – and utterly irresistible – storyteller." (Amazon.com)

Synopsis: In Walden, Henry David Thoreau observed, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation," and I could not help but recall this quotation as I began Rachel Joyce's lovely debut novel. As the novel begins, our unlikely hero, Harold, is merely existing. The reader is not given many details, but it is clear that Harold's marriage to Maureen is an empty shell, and that there are problems in his relationship with his adult son, David. Then his carefully orchestrated charade of a life begins to come apart after Harold gets a farewell letter from a friend, Queenie Hennessy, who is dying of cancer and living in hospice 600 miles away. Queenie had "done something nice" for Harold twenty years previous, and he always regretted not thanking her. Whatever she did for Harold is shrouded in mystery, but if the reader is patient, all questions are resolved.

Harold writes a perfunctory response to Queenie's letter, but as he goes out to mail it, something prevents him from putting it in the first mailbox he finds. He passes postbox after postbox, and eventually makes an impulsive decision to walk from his hometown of Kingsbridge to Queenie's hospice in Berwick-upon-Tweed, about 600 miles, believing that she will live as long as he keeps walking. Thus begins his transformation from a kind of living death to fullness of life. He walks 5 to 10 miles per day and mulls over the events in his life: the good, the bad and the ugly.

Readers will recognize a familiar theme, found in such writings as The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Wall-E: the hero leaves his comfortable world in order to embark on a quest. Along the way he meets both helpers and tempters, and he eventually returns to the known world with a fullness of knowledge or with something to enrich his community and himself.  

Harold Fry fits this motif to a tee. He meets many people and even animals along the way, and he gains something of value from each of them, even those who would deter him from his quest. Meanwhile, back at home, Maureen is undergoing her own transformation as she worries and responds to Harold's calls, postcards, and gifts. Nothing is as Harold or Maureen expect it to be. And the end of the quest is rewarding, but not in the way Harold imagines.

One final observation: This is a beautifully written novel. Most readers will love Ms. Joyce's use of language, especially in descriptions of the natural world. I am stunned that this is the author's first novel, though she has written many screenplays for the BBC. I hope to read much more of her work.

Most readers will like and appreciate Harold Fry if they persevere through the ambiguity at the beginning. Everything falls together eventually, I promise! Highly recommended.

Rating:  5 out of 5

Harold's walk!

The Upside of Cancer/Cancer Treatment

In order to offset the looks of pity or sorrow when someone learns about my cancer diagnosis and treatment, I decided to come up with a list of positives to regale people with which helps them feel a little more comfortable. I find that making light of certain aspects of my disease makes the pity go away quicker. For anyone offended by this post, suck it! It's my cancer and I'll do what I want.  :-)

• Saving time and money on hair care: Seriously, I am totally all about embracing being bald. The time saved on not having to wash, condition, comb, and style a head of hair is worth the loss of said hair. Quite frankly, if it were socially acceptable, I'd remain bald for the rest of my life... however long that might be. I don't understand people who hate being bald.
• No need to shave armpits and legs: Another time and money saver is not having the annoying task of shaving of armpits and legs. While they are not the worse tasks the world, it's still a joy not having to worry about these chores. I shaved them both a couple of weeks ago and now I won't have to shave again for months!
• Strategic use of the cancer card: First off, let me say that I do not use the cancer card willy-nilly. In fact, I don't think I've used it at all except on myself when I wanted to avoid doing housework. But come the fall when I am back teaching, I fully plan on pulling out the cancer card every time one of my students comes in with a lame excuse as to why they didn't do their homework. "Seriously, you couldn't read a chapter in a book when I come to work, teach, grade papers, take a masters class, and do my homework - all while battling cancer?!" Let's see them argue against that statement!
• Getting occasional free stuff: I do not ask for any special treatment... EVER... but if my local Starbucks barista wants to treat me to the occasional free drink or snack, who am I to say "no". When I go there for my daily treat, I fully expect to pay. They refuse to take my money! Whether it's because of my cancer or because I'm one of their favorite customers (their words, not mine) or a combination of both, I'm not sure, but I'll take it.
• Not having to worry about retirement funds: A friend and I were chatting the other day and she said that I was lucky because one of the best perks of working in a public school is the great retirement plans. I gave her a look and she said that perhaps I wasn't exactly worried about that. I laughed. She's correct. Most people worry about whether they will have enough money to retire. Honestly, it's not my biggest concern.
• Not worrying about aging: One of the few positives in my life is that I have never looked my age, nor does anyone in my immediate family. We all look easily 10 years (or more) younger than we really are. It's nothing that we do - it's just good genes. But with my specific diagnosis, I probably will not have to deal with the aging process. No gray hair, no wrinkles, no age spots, no loss of hearing or teeth, no osteoporosis, no turkey neck, etc. Score!

I am sure that I'm missing a few other positive aspects to my current medical woes, but this list is a good start.  Also, it's important to remember the advice given by Monty Python - Legendary!!! Feel free to sing along - I did.

Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word!

There's something that I have never understood - why is it so hard for people to apologize? It's two small, very simple, easy to pronounce words: I'm sorry. Nothing could be easier, wouldn't you say? Personally, I find methylchloroisothiazolinone to be a much more difficult word. <shrugs> Seriously, though I have never had issue with admitting fault when I know that I'm in the wrong. I've even been known to apologize even when I'm not in the wrong, just to make amends with another person and move on with my life and yet it seems that so many people have issues with apologizing.  

What is it about these two words that freaks people out? Is pride? Stubbornness? Being defensive? Is there a much deeper seeded problem? Most likely, it's a combination of many factors and, of course, depends on the person in question. Or is it possible that some people just don't recognize when they are in the wrong? That seems unlikely as no one is perfect in this world and everyone makes mistakes. But is it possible that they just truly do not recognize when they've hurt, injured, or insulted another person? Or is it that some people are just douche bags? In trying to answer these questions, I came across an article from Psychology Today which seems to have some interesting information! I'm not certain if this article is based on research or is merely the author's opinion but it does have some thought provoking content.

Sing it, Elton:

Okay, I had to post this video of Sheldon Cooper making a grand gesture of an apology to Amy Farrah Fowler - quite simply one of the funniest moments from The Big Bang Theory:

"The Beekeeper's Apprentice" is Buzzingly Good...

I admit it - I'm a Sherlock Holmes fan.  I love Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's novels and short stories, the British television series - Sherlock, the American television series - Elementary, and all the movies, especially the old Basil Rathbone and the new Robert Downey, Jr. movies. For well over 125 years, Sherlock Holmes has been battling foes with wit and intelligence and entertaining the masses. At the suggestion of a friend, I picked up The Beekeeper's Apprentice (1994) by American mystery writer Laurie R. King and found a delightful new Holmes story.

Synopsis: "Long retired, Sherlock Holmes quietly pursues his study of honeybee behavior on the Sussex Downs. He never imagines he would encounter anyone whose intellect matched his own, much less an audacious teenage girl with a penchant for detection. Miss Mary Russell becomes Holmes' pupil and quickly hones her talent for deduction, disguises and danger. But when an elusive villain enters the picture, their partnership is put to a real test." (Goodreads.com)

Review: What would happen if you teamed an older, semi-retired Sherlock Holmes with a brilliant, brassy, modern young woman? The Beekeeper's Apprentice! This novel, being the first of the Holmes/Russell novels (there are 12 books in the series as of this posting), establishes the world of Mary Russell and Sherlock Holmes which I assume is further developed in later novels. That being said, thus far I have fallen in love with King's Holmes as much as I love Doyle's. Mary Russell, the narrator and "author" of the novel, depicts Holmes in a very different way than Watson does in the Doyle books. Why? Because she sees him differently. Mentally, she is his equal. She is an audacious, modern woman, while Watson, a strict Victorian gentlemen, almost puts Holmes on a pedestal. It is unsurprising that their views on Holmes would be different. 

The narration is exquisitely charming and you can sense from how it is written that Mary Russell is a scholar, not a novelist. But Russell is much more than just another Holmes biographer. Dialogue between Holmes and Russell is edgy and intelligent, and the chemistry between the two is phenomenal. Holmes's character remains full and intact, and we see sides of him Watson never was able to explore. Character traits that were two-dimensional in Doyle's books are brought into three dimensions in King's, and we see precisely how human and real this genius of a man is. The entire novel contains such a reality and charm that one can swear that the characters actually existed. The only thing that I found to be strange was a trip to Jerusalem in the middle of the book, which seems to serve no purpose. Although I believe the Jerusalem trip is further covered in a future book, so it is perhaps that it acts as a mere introduction to a longer story.

Even grizzled Baker Street Irregulars will enjoy this book. It's sure to charm even the hardest Holmes purist, and give others a glimpse into the humanity of Holmes, whereas the Doyle books were mainly about the adventure and the mystery. It's a brilliant start to what I hope will be an even better series, and I recommend this first book in the series to those both familiar and unfamiliar with Sherlock Holmes. Although is there anyone really unfamiliar with Holmes? I am eagerly anticipating reading the next novel in the series.

Rating: 5 out 5 stars

Here are some of my favorite moments from Sherlock: