oh frabjous day

oh frabjous day
calloo callay..
night before last the dread Voldemort started
squirming again in my loved ones breast--
a squeak, then a gurgle, a wheeze like a treacherous
barn door flapping before the cyclone.

so, brilliant folk we are, hoping to avoid the
dark dawn visits to the asshole nurse at Cedars ER once again
we call the cardiologist
get him out of surgery and insist that he see T
in the afternoon
before the symptoms grow and mutate and metastasize as a
few other things seem to be doing...
so T hauls himself to Bev Hills in his Jag and
greying beard
hangs his cashmere coat against the table and
with a sigh he lies on the slab
to be hooked and slathered
"Toorn on ze elektrodeszzzz, Herr Profezzor!"
and the small white tape unfurls its slytherin tongue from the EKG box
and
there is a beep..beep..beep..beep..beep.. and again beep..beep..beep..beep.
steady, consistent, miraculously straight forward
simple
lacking pernicious inconsistency.

for the first time in SEVEN years, the little tape
and the steady beep signal a heart rate in sinus,
absolutely steady, in rhythm, no ragtime bossa nova beats,
and no moment of suspense
wondering if the heart will beat again.
nope. the miracle of steady expectation--
present in the heart of
Tony Shultz.

and the doctor looks at T
and T, he
and they tiptoe, mystified
from their respective cloaks and
down the hall and out the door
back to their own lives for their is joy
in Mudville because
the clamor has calmed.
who knows why?
maybe Eun, the cutie pie accupuncturists rotten prune juice tea?
maybe the simple resolve of no running and
lots of being in the moment
who knows... but the heart is steady and strong and clear
and so we have that.
hmmm.

and today T picked up a big check and tossed it in the bank
and took advantage of our fabulous Pleasure Account at the Four Seasons
( oh so many thanks yous for that fabulous respite of luxurious overkill)
and returned home to spaghetti sauce and scotch and
tales of Sofie's finals and analysis of her educators complete with
in depth analysis, sound effects and laughter.
all in all not a bad day.. taking it one inch
one day at a time.

we know more tuesday

last week, T, out of the generosity of spirit, spent too much time
hearing tales of cancer and cures
and clinical trials and calls to battle and all the stuff i refuse to let in my sphere.
it is exhausting

sh-h-h-h-h-h-h
hold your counsel dear friends
trust we are connected and clear
and doing what needs to be done

let us look to the wisdom of his heart
and the wonderful sign that used to grace the entrance to the
transcendant grounds of Wheelers Hot Springs in Ojai
and let us all "slow right down"
and let us say, amen.

bargaining

so, if i shake my head and say no
walk away from the table and refuse the best offer
will the guy call me back and give me a better deal?

on our honeymoon in morocco
lo these many hippie years ago
we walked the souk in marrakesh
and amber beads caught my eye.
thick, i thought, and so rich and my husband
adept at negotiation even then- pre real estate life-
tossed out 5 dinar ( or whatever the moroccan currency was )
and the grinning merchant sensing the hook in the cheek says
ah sir, but surely-- 15 dinar is a better price and
we turned away with a smile knowing
we were hooked but
chosing to believe we had power
and began to walk away..
and the merchant called after us--
"ah sir sir. 15 dinar no good for you, 5 dinar no good for me
so what will be goodness" he said, toothy and rotten.

i believe there was even sweet tea in aluminum pressed tin pots
and mint leaves caught between his black teeth and
we did indeed settle midway
a magnificent 9 rupiah
winning the prize and
i took my amber beads and
wore them proudly
until that evening when tony , unable
to leave well enough alone, took
the tell tale match from the bug ridden hotel lobby
and placed its blue flame under the bead.
true amber doesn't blacken, he said
but my plastic beads did.
i still wore them,
i had them,
we bought them and
i wore them not really seeing them as a
symbol of deception but rather
as a emblem of making life work-- going with the negotiation, accepting the prize, making lemonade from lemons and making magic from scorn, as my mother once said.

so we are in the dickering mode with god and oncologists
and T trying to pin down just exactly
what he will get from this deal or that
being offered by the gods.

there was another negotiation in morocco. i swapped two pairs of jeans with monkey merchants to secure him a geode and i thought he would be so happy that i was so brave to
meet the monkey merchants alone and make the deal without him and he was furious i had given away his best jeans to the scummy scam artists at the edge of the town of lambchops and Shit Mountain. so i learned not to bargain without him and instead i watch from the sidelines and
finger the geodes i already have and
count them lucky enough for they are in our hands
and we have not been raped and brutalized by the monkey merchants
quite yet

i will see where he will land

we still have no answers
the bargaining with fate and pet scans is falsely empowering perhaps
but it has drawn me from my bed at 3 am
and i am dickering for dawn.

SO LET US GATHER OUR GREAT HEARTS AND MINDS

GENERIC DSICLAIMER: THE FOLLOWING IS RUMINATIVE IN NATURE. NO NEED TO BURDEN YOURSELF IF YOU JUST WANT AN UPDATE. THAT'S AT THE VERY END.
=============================================================

there are no mistakes
"life is right in any case" said Rainer Maria Rilke
in Letters to A Young Poet
well, perhaps life is right
as it holds the inexorable
and we here are placed within it to be silent in the roar and
try to ride the wave.
the WAY we ride the wave, the tools we bring to bear
the place we may be in our own journey of discovery is
surely varied-- some do better worse or draw--
no credit to be given or taken- just the way it is.

still with the "rightness "of life there is this claw
the terrible streak of raw tissue exposed
as one moves through life's certainties-
birth, death , gain, loss,
losing

the idea of our God and energetic governance has certainly evolved as we have evolved--
we were privledged to be at Disney Hall the other night to witness the Britten War Requiem
( in fabulous seats with even more fabulous company, by the way, so manythanks)-- but
the punishing God, damning souls to eternal death for dying as combatants of lousy war
the idea of God the King, sitting on high, slamming his zap gun thru the
exposed guts of penitents.. that God, we extol thee, beg mercy from thee, that God--
that is the God of a time needing to be kept in line and live on the straight and narrow
keeping the earthlings separate from the Gods and making sure we know that God has pee-ed his territory and we are not invited except on our knees--
but that God-- can't possibly address our time, can He?

okay-- waiting now for a thunderbolt
seem to be fine so will continue

my point here is that T's illness,
the recent news that two other good friends from the east
have been diagnosed with strokes or cancer,
the more recent news that the exalted and vibrant Chris Allport has been swept away in an avalanche --yes signs and wonders- in Wrightwood --Big Bear- oMYgod- this week
one year almost exactly after mentor and friend Curt D decided to end his life
the warming of the planet
the rains, the snow drifts,
the loss of life long occupations
the visiting UFO's ( two reports in last weeks)
the exhortation from our leaders that we can save our souls and the economy
by shopping......
yes, by shopping....

asks us to consider-- please consider
"the elements doth contend about us"-- all of us

we have energetic matters of the planet being brought to bear
bringing their considerable forces
upon our rather human backs
and how do we meet these forces?

with acceptance? defiance? elevation, surely.
meditation, some say. vitamin shakes?
do we meet the day as penitents groveling on our knees in front of the great Oz?
do we stand as victims at Babi Yar and wait for the bullet in our brains that will neatly collapse us into the graves we ahve conveniently dug ourselves?
Or do we attempt to understand that we are part of the great Oz --
we are part and parcel of the great creative Oz that is part and parcel of the whole shebang
and how do we meet this? how do we prepare? how do we listen? how do we bend and not break?

i don;t think sit-ups will do the trick
there is a larger , more central call from the universe
that is hooking us on a cellular level and
no longer asking but telling us to
expand expand expand
now
to try to get a handle or
at least run the rapid without losing too many limbs.

oy vey
can a jewish girl from the midwest possibly reach the mountain top and
manage the Promise Land? only if one stands atop the hill raises ones arms to the sky and believes the winds will raise her upward perhaps

i wonder if i have lost you all
"madness and despair has descended on Citrus--poor thing"
say you all.
no, not really. certainly not.

it's just that there is more here at stake
than our little lives and
enormous loves--
are we meant to take to heart the placard
GOD IS LOVE- plastered against the church wall
is GODS LOVE enough
what is it for god's sake?
who is is?
is it us and are we up to the task of integration into the cosmos?
both in this life and out of it?

here is where humility and grace come in
lots of the first and prayers for the second.
hope you were able to follow all that...
=====================================================


sunday morning "complacencies of the boudoir"- as Wallace Stephens might say.

T goes to the basketball game today with cool cousin
Sofie dines with excellent soul guide
I find hands to rub my body
Tomorrow we meet with oncologist for more opinions
and so it goes

much love
s

washing dishes and doing ordinary things

our friend vicki just said
-- about how surreal it all is
and then "we still have to wash dishes and do ordinary things"

and so we do
at 4:27 am the rains gushed from noah's arc onto our back garden
and the sprinklers went on at the very same time
and all i could think of was all that multiplying and drowning of things
and that was not productive.

the cat meowed, agreeing, and sent me
back to sleep and
then the heavens roared again and it was time to drive
s to school and then the guy at the gas station scowled at me
for needing a quart of
oil in the rain.
right. i get that.

and then t took a shower and T told me about his bad dreams
and i put the dishes away from the dishwasher
and then we talked about whether he was going to live or die
with a major incision in his body or unscathed
and then i did the email and ate a bowl of cereal and
then we went to the lawyer who i yelled at because she
actually was trying to be nice and do her job
and then we got in the car and i didn't apologize
and i came home and thought
well
now that T won't be around just who gets to decide when to unplug me
at the last moment

and then i folded the laundry
and posted work for my students and
ate three scones and a huge plate of chicken and a mound of
last night nava's vegetables and
then i talked to the other lawyer about just who and where and what
and how much and how dare they and isn't it too bad that ...
and then i brought the garbage cans from the street.

i did put some real wood over some real mud today though and
that felt real good
like i was accomplishing something.

spoke to the menschy doctor tonight
and he wished me a good weekend and
it made me smile because he really meant it and
i appreciated that.

A DELIGHTFUL DIVERSION

GUESS WHAT?
even with T so sick and us so crazed
we get a little gift now and then

my little play THE WHITE BIRCHES has just gone up on Amazon Shorts at amazon.com!
you can click and download it to your very own computer for just .49 cents!
i am so excited!
and if you want to read it and do it-- please do!

it's all pre Voldemort writing when things like being happy or restless seemed important.
but there are a few folk still out there with those concerns so perhaps the play will resonate.

watch for the other 2 pieces in the suite--ORADUR SUR GLANE and BEFORE FEAR to go up soon , along with a chapter from my novel, Dreaming in Daylight-- which I have titled ROSIE IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD.

so there it is .. and maybe next year T and I will write THE YEAR OF LIVING CANCEROUSLY and go on the road together!
my god, how absurd is this life.

xxoo
s

no answers lots of questions

big day today
T home from cedars at noon
quick run down
heart rate in better control but who knows for how long
little confidence in cardiologist

good meeting with surgeon at UCLA
still digesting info and will get back with details
surgery may be an option but we will not know until
mid February
they have to reanalyze some slides to see how voracious the cancer cells are,
then, we need to see if the left lung is inflammation and not cancer
as there continues
to be a question-- oncologist says cancer;
thoracic surgeons say it may be inflammation
pet/ct scan will give us more info--but can't do til feb 2
need to do more blood tests and some reexamination
no answers
lots of questions

if surgery is an option,, and we won't know til mid feb
then-- the surgery is to remove tumor around right lung and NOT the lung itself.
pleurectomy and decortification--
then recovery, then radiiation, then interferon ( not covered by insurance)
and disease is then treated as a chronic disorder to be managed
a la diabetes /high blood pressure-- (with a tired mr. tony and living a bit pared down financially--but I might be able to up my teaching)

this is new medical idea--not previously offered
this guy doesn't think chemo is an option-- only works 40% of time on this cancer

atrial fib is a big problem in the first week after surgery
and then of course we already have this problem but cameron
seems to think it is manageable.. but we would have to talk to
more cardiologists at UCLA

so we are still digesting
the place was all razors and tongs
rock walls and flourescent lights
kept us waiitng from 4:30- 7:30
grueling
took a break to a surreal indian restaurant with Indian MTV playing silently over my shoulder
and the ghost of lunchers swallowing all the oxygen
but then we got this possibility

surgery offers about 6 months of recovery and radiation
and then perhaps chemo or not depending on what they see when they go in
then an average of 18-36 months on average survival rate
as opposed to a 9 month survival rate with or without chemo
this from UCLA maven surgeon

we are digesting and gathering info
nothing is simple
nothing is decided
nothing is easy

i must prepare for school and work tomorrow and please understand if i am not in touch immediately
there is a great deal to manage
much love to you all
s

i'm not a doctor but i've played one on tv

...and it came in handy last night
as the atrial fib/flutter/heart rate gallop sent T
breathless to the ER (once again) with fluid on the lung-- ( right one again/the one that was talc-ed)
congestive heart failure-- sounds very dramatic but we've been thru this scenario
a few times already. we should take a suite.

speaking to the fairly hip nurse,
we found out that Liz Taylor does have her own suite here at Cedars.
it has a lovely sitting room, hardwood floors and a very nice bathroom according to our sources. also a sitting area with a fold out couch which sure would have come in handy last night when we both stretched out on his bed, pretending to ignore the beeps and whistles and soundtrack of all night hospital life.

he pee-ed out two and 1/4 of those ample little thermos bottle things and he was admitted and now rests (yeah right) captive in the north tower
until they can get his heart rate under 100 again
so he can breathe, and then move and then head to the cancer surgeon
and then figure out what the next thing is. ah life.. and its unravelings...

so, once the hip nurse went home about midnight, the second neurasthenic gal, all bleached blond and square eyeglassy comes in around 1:30 AM and says:
"Oooh, so i see you have mesothelioma. I just love to learn about new things. Like, I googled it, but it didn't come up with anyting except maybe from asbestos, so did you do asbestos ? I mean how'd you get it, like what's it like?"
I raise my head slack jawed head from the bed where it was trying to sleep, eyes glazed
ready to strike when the gracious Mr. T begins nicely explaining to her the ins and outs of his Voldemort foe. And I try to give her the high sign by saying:
"Well, maybe it doesn't bear a great deal of conversation at the moment...... ( beaming beaming "cause it's gonna kill him, asshole) but she says,
"Oh yeah. Right. I guess it's over, huh?" and then turns pertly and exits stage left.

who is writing for ER these days, House, maybe?
we want credit for that little interchange.

i guess she thought about it a little 'cause she returned a few minutes later
with some injectable drug, saying
" Ooh , hope i didn't offend you. i just think all these diseases are so cool and we don't see a lot of that stuff. mostly not working guys around her, y'know. but i hope you're cool"

And T, to his credit, said something like "Well, i may not be the best educational resource for you because the fucker is killing me at moment."
She exits.
Words fail us

"Well i guess i'll read about this one on the blog," he says. And we collapse in laughter.

By the way , the view from his room over the hills at bout 5 AM-- when the sun is just beginning to peak- is actually very beautiful.
he's sleeping and i'm going home to do the same.
xxoo
s