After six days of being outside of internet, cell phone or newspapers. I return to find that NOLA is about to receive another hurricane with the rest of the Gulf Coast. My prayers are with you all, especially St. Casserole, her family and dog and cats. It's just not fair. Not fair at all.

And I'm in Alaska, two blocks from the governor's mansion. I can actually see it if I were to walk outside. And, of course, she's not here. It's interesting being here and reading the Juneau paper.

Focus on the Family asked for rain for Obama's speech in Mile High Stadium. Rain is coming to disrupt the Republican Convention. If one believed in divine intervention. what would one say? (OK I've had a bit of wine).

I walked for one hour and forty seven minutes today, up a few steep inclines.

Juneau is wet, but when the sun does poke through it is among the most beautiful places in the world. The mountains are steep, dropping straight down into the channels. Just across the way is Douglas (Douglas Island?). So on one side are high mountains dropping down into the sea and across the channel are more high mountains.

Wonderful fish-- salmon and halibut and dungeness crab. What more could anyone want? And good friends, wonderful friends.

I exercised for the last five days, running two days, hiking three days. I've done more exercise than I have since sometime more than a year ago, May 2007 when I was hiking. It is wonderful. I hope that I am well.

Friends I haven't seen in a while asked me what it is like to have cancer. What can I say? It's like being in a car accident. At least I've never remembered what happened. It's a blank in my life. Cancer is like that. But, I'm waiting. Will the next CT scan be clear? And the next? What about the one after that? And when I reach five years? What about eight years?

On the other hand, cancer hangs over everyone. It's just that most people don't know it. Half of all men and one third of all women come down with cancer. It is no longer a death sentence.

My eyebrows are coming back. I think I have whole eyebrows.

Praise God. I am alive, I am eating really good food with really good friends.

Tomorrow I return home and begin my life again. Working full time. Listening to where God may be calling the congregation I am called to lead. Amen.

More Death

My lectionary group is meeting in Juneau and I'm off tomorrow morning. It's supposed to rain all week and there's no internet (or cell reception) where we're going, so either we will get a lot of discussion done about Mark, or we will drink a lot (or probably both). A couple of guys are already there catching our meals. I've been promised halibut and salmon. (One of the guys lives there).

Death

I woke up this morning feeling depressed. Really depressed. After bemoaning my fate and wondering how it could be connected to the fact that I really don't want to be here and then considering how much wellbutrin I should take, reality grabbed hold of me.

I have been reading books on death and cancer. I am trying to come to grips with my own mortality. I truly believe a major problem with our society today is our fear of and subsequent denial of death. Paradoxically, if we want to live, we must acknowledge the reality of death. But, we do so much to avoid that knowledge: addictions cover the knowledge (addictions to work to computers, to substances, to shopping, to just about anything you can imagine). Addictions and everything we do to avoid facing the fact of our own mortality brings immediate death. We swap grappling with our ultimate death with immediate death of the soul.

And so, I think my early morning (and continuing) feelings were not depression but sadness and grief. Sadness and grief at my own mortality. I find it interesting that among my first reactions was to reach for a pill to remove the suffering and let me get own with "life."

(Now, for real depression, medicine can be a great boon. Depression can prevent people from living and medicine can help.)

Suffering is a part of life. If we do not feel pain, we cannot feel joy. When we deaden the pain of suffering, we deaden the receptors for joy also.

Good News from CT Scan

My doctor just called to tell me my CT scan was normal. My CA-125 levels were within normal range (though they had been before my surgery, too).

Dates--from RevGalBlogPals

From Songbird:

1) Datebooks--how do you keep track of your appointments? Electronically? On paper? Month at a glance? Week at a glance?

Electronically. In hopes of buying an iPhone, I've switched from my Palm calendar to iCal on my MacBookPro. But I also have a paper calendar on my fridge. Mostly for doctor's appointments. UGH. I was really afraid I'd forget my CT scan this morning. I rarely look at my calendar, cause I don't have a lot on it. Mostly my pilates classes and doctors' appointments.

2) When was the last time you forgot an important date?
Hmm, I didn't forget the date, but the time for a wedding that I was officiating at. I remembered the time of the rehearsal and thought the wedding was at the same time. I woke up from a nap and wondered why there were so many cars by the church (I lived in the manse next to the church). Then I checked my calendar. The wedding was in about 10 minutes. I officiated with unwashed hair. Between the ceremony and the reception, I ran home and washed my hair. Living in a village has some benefits (but very few) (Of course, that was when I had hair.)

3) When was the last time you went OUT on a date?
What's a date? You mean a social engagement with someone of a different gender (or the same gender depending on your preferences)? Years, I guess. I haven't met anyone that interested me in years. I have friends who've done the internet thing (and one who actually married a guy she met on the net), but I've never seen anyone on any of the sites who looked the least bit interesting. I have this feeling that if you have to use the net, there must be something wrong with you. I'm pretty happy by myself. At my age, the thought of having to be neat cause someone was living with me is not something I want to do.

4) Name one accessory or item of clothing you love even though it is dated.
All my clothing is dated. In fact, it's so dated, it's back in style. I'm so pleased I can wear my blue jeans again, for the first time since January.

5) Dates--the fruit--can't live with 'em? Or can't live without 'em?
Don't really like dates the fruit. Never have. Don't know why, just don't appeal to me.

CT Scan and the reality of cancer

I had my first post chemo CT scan today. The reality of this hit me: I will be doing this 14 more times over the next five years--if I am lucky. The fear and anxiety struck anew. How long do I have? How long do any of us have?

I began (again--the beginning part, not the reading part) Becker's Denial of Death. What immediately stuck me was how geared it appeared to be to men. Not just the ubiquitous use of male language, but the assumptions that the male experience is the experience. He begins by talking about how the quest to be a hero is driven by fear of death. Are most women driven to be heroes? Does the fact that our bodies bear life, continuing life, change the dynamic? Not that women don't fear death, but is our experience the same as men? Are our means of coping the same as men's? Do childless women experience the fear of death in the same way that women who have borne children experience it?

Anatole Broyard: It's not that I'm courageous, it's that my attitude is what I would call irresponsible.

That's me: irresponsible, not courageous.

What is truth?

I get emails from Preaching Now, an evangelical group. There was a piece about "truth and grace". Now, mostly I read, hear, speak about the polarity between law and grace. From the writing, it was clear the writer meant law when he wrote truth. My immediate reaction was, "but isn't grace truth, too?"

So, have the conservatives ditched the word "law" and embraced "truth" as its alternative?