March 29th, 2012

alan - morning glory center


Yesterday I had my annual physical.  I spoke with my doctor about the difficulty of getting blood for the blood test even though I drive up to the hospital so I get the most skilled people to draw my blood.  I hydrate for days beforehand and wear gloves, and turn the heater in the car up to 73, and wear a warm jacket, and still, I freeze when I get to the lab and my veins disappear.  On Wednesday, she actually found one in my hand, and yet at the approach of the needle, the vein skittered inside.  My hands turn to ice, though I'm given a chemical hand warmer.  I can only have blood taken from one side because of the loss of lymph nodes on the other, so time passes, and I get to know the lab technicians and eventually some blood slowly drips out through the needle in my hand.  It is an ordeal, and I feel guilty when I see people waiting outside.  It's supposed to be quick, right?

My doctor suggested a cognitive therapist yesterday to deal with the trauma that I seem to have as a result of chemotherapy and radiation.  I asked a therapist friend what she thought and she recommended a book called Healing from Trauma by Jasmin Cori.  Thanks to the modern world, I could download it onto my Kindle, and start reading.  

I stayed up late into the night reading about trauma.  I doubt many of us get to my age without some trauma, but then each of us handles it differently.  For me, when my veins see a needle, it means poison, and they hide as far inside as they can go.   That makes absolute sense when you think about it.  Those of us who survived, learned which berries to eat and which to avoid.  If something makes you sick, you don't do it again.

I haven't finished the book so don't yet know what I'll do to help with this unconscious fear, but I am grateful to live where, if I so choose, there are people who may be able to help.

bardcat posted about his mother yesterday.  I am so touched by his post.   Though my mother died over seven years ago now, I feel my mother close to me each day.  I feel her embrace.  

oregon, willamette, 1 proxy falls


I had a Rosen session today.  For those of you who don't know what Rosen is, this might give a clue, though it really needs to be experienced:

What came up for me is vulnerability.  Of course, I am vulnerable; we all are, but I don't always feel it, or acknowledge it, but today, I allowed myself to do so.  I could feel barriers and fluidity, layers and levels, land and sea.  I feel that now, grateful I can feel.  

Adrienne Rich died Tuesday at the age of 82.  I saw her read at Book Passage a few years ago, probably quite a few now, and I loved her beauty and joy.  

This tribute - ends with these words:

For all her verbal prowess, for all her prolific output, Ms. Rich retained a dexterous command of the plain, pithy utterance. In a 1984 speech she summed up her reason for writing — and, by loud unspoken implication, her reason for being — in just seven words.

What she and her sisters-in-arms were fighting to achieve, she said, was simply this: “the creation of a society without domination.”

To "the creation of a society without domination".  To peaceful passing.  To the continuing creation of Equality and Peace!