The real time is 4:24 A.M. This is a nice little synchronicity for me. It is like the universe saying "hello Anastasia." Why am I awake? Well probably for multiple reasons, among them including that I took a nap today and went to sleep early tonight. But I am also a little "nervous" about starting chemo in the morning. I go into the St. Augustine Cancer Center at about 9:15 for labs, then chemo starts at about 9:30. I will probably be there for at least five hours.
Pooka is nestled up beside me. I am so glad that she is here. What wonderful company she is. I have been told a lot about the chemo I will be receiving (ABVD) and I have also read up on it, at least a bit. The truth is, I am not just nervous about the chemo treatment. There is a part of me that is also nervous/anxioius about whether it will work or not. Now that it is almost time to get started, I am closer to either more hope or less hope. Unconditional "hope" need not be affected, if there be such a thing (there is, in my heart), but hope about prognosis. Hope about continuing to live this life. Hope about getting better.
Part of me still cannot believe that this is actually happening. My life has taken this "new direction" so suddenly and unexpectedly. My body has been trying to tell me for a long time (at least a year and a half I'd say), with the unexplained itching and drenching night sweats it taunted me with. I had no idea what it was trying to tell me and neither did any of my St. Augustine doctors. It is a fortunate "accident" that my travel and time in Arizona shook things up enough inside to get me to a clinic, concerned about the pain around my heart area. The discovery of the tumor was just such a shock. The phrase "probably cancer" was not one I expected to hear. But they were all looking at me funny (the clinicians in AZ). They knew before I knew and to me it was obvious that they knew...something.
Time keeps moving along....especially fast it seems these days....and now here I am, mentally preparing to begin chemotherapy in several hours. I am still here, in this body, and I am not going anywhere until I have to. It is a good body. It suits me (pun intended). It has been through a lot with me. I know that the mind is a powerful thing. I have gone through dark emotional periods, but I never tried to commit suicide. Still, the question rears its ugly head. "Did I do this to myself?" Does sadness cause cancer? I have also had my share of "fun." Does "living it up" cause cancer? Did I party too hard, drink too much, sleep too little? I was always silently grateful to my body and even proud that my body seemed to stay so consistent and healthy. I hardly ever got sick, even when I was around others who were. It is a good body.
The questions could be endless- a winding maze leading nowhere but around and around again. This doesn't mean that part of me is not going to continue to ask these questions. Curiousity ("I want to know") is a deep part of my nature. However, my meditation, my project, is to be with each and every moment as it comes. Here and now. Being "in the moment" seems like the most rational/sane way to deal with things like what I am going through. After all, this moment is the only thing that is real. All any of us have is this moment. This doesn't mean that I am not going to "dance the dream." My mind is a world. I appreciate my mind for what it is. I may not understand it, but I imagine that my mind is creating in harmonious conjunction with some mandala pattern of Spirit, weaving the dream worlds together. My mind is "mine" because I am the witness of its dream weaving. (Like I said, my mind is a world.)
So I'll be the one to dream this dream, this Anastasia dream. I will watch this world unfold, with eyes as open as I can. AND, last but certainly not least, I will cuddle with the cutest dog ever (um except Gabriel, Rosco, and Koshi), my sweet little Pooka!
