tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39693770977506400882024-03-13T02:13:16.040-07:00Through An Al-Anon FilterUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger829125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-74749209491264861302015-04-28T12:03:00.001-07:002015-04-28T17:23:35.682-07:00Remembering Cheryl....Dear Readers......<br />
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It is with great love and sadness that we tell you that Cheryl passed away last Wednesday, April 22nd on a sunny evening with her beloved Robert at her side.<br />
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My name is Cathie A. and I am the sponsor of the blogger, Cheryl H. I am here in Cheryl's home with Robert and we both feel Cheryl's presence as we have hacked into her blog (she would love us being naughty).<br />
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As I'm sure readers of Cheryl's blog know...she was a wise and witty woman with 29+ years in the program of Al-Anon. She was also a very talented writer, gardener, painter, stained glass artist, seamstress (really...who sews their own jeans?), hysterically funny, dear friend, sister and much loved spouse. Her talents, her humility and her ability to laugh at herself were inspiring.<br />
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Robert was telling me this morning of the joy of them both falling into fits of laughter after noticing an oversized jar of Nutella while grocery shopping. One of my favourite personal memories was of visiting Cheryl in hospital with another Al-Anon friend after her last surgery ... the three of us exchanging stories of our own pre-recovery insanity and laughing so hard that Cheryl had to ask the nurse for pain relief after we left. Such is the stuff of a simple life well-lived.<br />
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Cheryl spoke often of the gifts that working the Al-Anon program had given her. Her ability to use her program in dealing with life's challenges (yes, even the REALLY big ones) was amazing and an inspiration to many (I put myself at the top of that list). <br />
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Thank you for allowing me to share my memories of my dear friend Cheryl. If you wish to share your thoughts and feelings here......please do.....Robert would love to hear from you.<br />
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Love in Al-Anon, Cathie A.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-58362356442821225942015-02-13T09:19:00.000-08:002015-02-13T09:19:02.988-08:00Keep It SimpleA reader posted a comment on yesterday's post, about "Keep it Simple." Now there's a mantra for cancer treatment craziness. <br />
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When it comes down to what really needs to be accomplished today, and what can wait - Keep it Simple - we need groceries to fill the fridge, more than we need to drop off extra supplies back at a hospital office kind enough to give them to us in the first place. We have to eat today - they have sufficient supplies that our paltry return will be as nothing on those well-stocked shelves. <br />
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When it comes down to what each of us can bear, if Robert needs a time-out to straighten his head or just have the cool water of peace swish through his soul, then keep it simple - make the space for him to go off alone and putter, by giving myself the space to start a painting, cut out a garment I wish to sew, or do one of a zillion things I can do, alone and happy. <br />
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When the logistics are getting complicated about who can drive me where, to get this or that done on this or that day at this or that time, and I can't yet feel comfortable driving myself to a distant hospital for a CT scan to stage the tumour - keep it simple - call my sponsor/dear friend and ASK. She of course agreed, which means I get to have a meeting with my sponsor and some wonderful laughs and the pleasure of her company, making this an outing I can enjoy instead of just another obligation. <br />
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Keep it Simple. Cut my day down into bite-size chews, and that way I'm not faced with a mountain I think I need to devour within the next ten minutes; I can take it one step, one day at a time. <br />
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Thank you for that blessing, Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-85676158720700165312015-02-12T01:02:00.000-08:002015-02-12T01:02:37.378-08:00So It Begins.I had my first radiation treatment today. It was all over in a matter of minutes; I was finished before realising that they'd started. <br />
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It was painless, but I'm told that with the attending "sunburning" of the skin which will occur, I may suffer further pain on top of what I'm now experiencing. <br />
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Last night I spent some time cleaning my glass collection, polishing the beautiful golds and reds and purples. I was overwhelmed with gratitude for my friends, my lover Robert, my sister: who cares for me, and is struggling with her own pain about it all, and my brother, who adores the painting I made for him, which he received yesterday, finally. <br />
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I miss my meetings so much, but am too ill to attend them. When someone comments here on my blog, it feels a little bit like a meeting, and I am truly grateful for your input, please know that, and keep talking to me!<br />
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I'm hoping that my fight over this cancer will succeed enough for me to go back to a more normal form of life, with meetings, and social encounters, and gardening. I'm feeling like I may be able to beat this one back enough to have some more life granted to me. I'm too young, and unwilling to accept dying yet. I want to live. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-46789921474777547672015-02-08T01:11:00.001-08:002015-02-08T02:04:26.392-08:00Denial, Or Waiting It Out?<br><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Denial means that I am refusing to acknowledge a truth which sits right before me, "large as life, and twice as ugly." </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Waiting it out, means that I have clarity regarding the situation, and an ability to understand that it's beyond my immediate control.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I've had many times in this journey in Al-Anon, when I've been so far gone into a state of HALT that I couldn't distinguish between whether I've been in denial, or whether I was waiting it out - I could not tell the one from the other, no matter how I tried.</span></div><div><br></div><div>It's been fascinating for me to add "moderate to severe pain" to HALT, so I'm not just hungry angry lonely or tired, I'm also in sufficient physical pain to inhibit and affect my judgement. In enough pain, I can be completely unable to grasp the lifeline of hope and serenity. </div><div><br></div><div>That which a few hours earlier, seemed only a struggle up a relatively minor hill, and well within my reach, thanks to all those who love me, and are more than willing to help shoulder the burden to reach the summit...</div><div><br></div><div>.......given enough physical torment, somehow morphs into an asinine plan to try climbing Mount Everest in a track suit, with a hot dog and one banana.</div><div><br></div><div>When I'm in denial, I feel weak, hopeless, ineffective, stupid, and like a bad person.</div><div><br></div><div>When I'm waiting it out, I know that my powerlessness is a gift, allowing me time to seek through prayer and meditation, closer contact with my Higher Power.</div><div><br></div><div>Closer contact with my Higher Power brings me peace, and the belief that I can get through whatever is to come. Not merely get through it, but feel boundless gratitide for, and joy in my beloved Robert, who understands my heart, and brings me 50-year-old sewing machines, with which I putter about, and oil, and shine and polish, until they run with a softly powerful purr and a perfection of stitch not possible from new plastic models. The other <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">day, I sent to my brother 3 pictures. - one of the new/old machine alone in its beautiful wooden cabinet, with the two-tone blue enamel, and chrome dials gleaming, and then one each of first Robert, and then me, perched on the sewing chair, and grinning with wild glee.....</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">...... and I've got new cancer tumours.....</span></div><div><br></div><div>......but they will only have the room in my life that I choose to give them. My choice, thanks to this blessed program.</div><div><br></div><div>Thanks to all of you who write, share your experience strength and hope, and to those who read. When I first began this blog, I could never have imagined the love and caring I would feel, and still do. Blessings, and may you wake to the knowledge that you are loved by a Higher Power.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-545298576168096892015-02-06T00:45:00.000-08:002015-02-06T19:05:48.340-08:00A Change Is As Good As A Rest,I saw the radiation oncologist yesterday, and he recommended 15-20 radiation treatments, rather than chemo, as these new tumours are close to the surface, and palpable, unlike the original lumps, which were in my lymph nodes. Those two original lumps remain shrunken back to a normal size, so that's good. I'm still gaining weight gradually, and that too is an excellent sign, given the circumstances. <div><br></div><div>As my primary oncologist commented to us at my first appointment with her last year - apart from the cancer, I'm in excellent health.<br><br></div><div>Later in the afternoon, I met with a doctor and nurse from the pain and symptom department, because the pain from the cancer has been increasing to the point that I have become very uncomfortable. <div><br></div><div>After giving me prescriptions for several medications, the doctor spoke for some time about how if I were not to use the meds as prescribed; if I waited until my pain was unbearable before taking them, instead of keeping an eye on the clock, and seeing that it was time for the next dose, they are ineffective. He listened carefully as Robert told him that I have a tendency to wait and hope that the pain will go away without my needing to do anything about.</div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">(This is the third doctor who has given me the same talk about pain medication.)</span></div><div>
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Which brings me to today's topic - self-care. <br>
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I was raised in a home where my pain was negated, dismissed, minimised and mocked- whether it be mental, emotional, or physical. It was made abundantly clear to all members of that family, that only one person's pain mattered- my adoptive mother.<div><br></div><div>After breaking her pelvis in a fall just after her 98th birthday, and spending 5 weeks in hospital, she died a week ago this past Monday. It feels strange to know that she is finally gone from this world. I'd made my peace with her, and had no anger or resentment left towards her for many years now, thanks to this wondeful program.</div><div><br></div><div>But I realise that even after all this time working my program, I still have patterns of ingrained thinking which can catch me unawares. One such, is the belief that I need to keep my physical pain to myself, minimise it, not "bore" others with complaint or even mention of it, and that somehow, it's my own fault that I'm in pain. </div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div>How this is the case, I <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">cannot articulate clearly even to myself, but I struggle against that one often. I need to remind myself that I'm not to blame for getting cancer, and that I deserve relief from the pain.</span></div><div><br></div><div>I deserve relief.</div></div></div><div><br></div><div>I'm a good person, and I deserve all of the wonders that life, love, and the blessings of Al-Anon have to offer. It's my choice as to whether I accept love, caring and relief from pain. I wouldn't expect Robert, my sister or brother, or a dear friend to suffer in the way that I've felt I deserved to suffer, because I believed that I was a bad person.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-15844009416437612592015-01-30T12:17:00.000-08:002015-01-30T12:17:49.097-08:00New Lumps As I'd expected, the new lumps are cancerous. So it's back onto chemotherapy, and hope that the new regime shrinks these lumps, in the same way that the first six months of chemo shrank the original small tumours. I go for another CT scan to see if it's metastasized to any of my major organs, and I'll keep you posted as to the news. <br />
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On another subject, it's a stunning day today, sunny and mild and beautiful. A glorious day in which to be alive. I'm going to put in some sewing work on the new coat I'm making for myself, and pray for guidance, comfort, strength and hope. <br />
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Where there's life, there's hope. A simple truth. I am so grateful for all of my friends, my brother and sister, and for my beloved Robert. One day last week, I was fed up and weeping, and he made a remark which made me burst into helpless laughter. What a man. And what an enormous gift he is in my life. A treasure, and the best thing that has ever happened to me, he is. <br />
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I'm feeling grateful for all of my blessings, and for the delicious sunshine. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-6013565626154516832015-01-21T22:25:00.000-08:002015-01-21T22:25:14.021-08:00Emotional Wealth.These days, thanks to the wonders of Al-Anon, I have great emotional wealth. My dictionary defines <br />"wealth" as an abundance of valuable resources, and I certainly have been granted that. I have the valuable resource of program wisdom, and I have been truly blessed with an abundance of friends to walk this path with me. <br />
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I have friends with whom I keep in touch, who live in cities many miles away, but I am able to get together with them for lunch and a visit every few months. In between visits, we exchange regular emails, and I smile to see their names in my email inbox. They are a richness in my life. Some are in program, some are not, it doesn't matter, we are close, and they add greatly to my joy.<br />
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One of the unexpected blessings of this cancer journey is that I have been allowed to realise how I am loved, by the way my friends have responded, with support, encouragement, humour and anything else I've needed, whether I knew I needed it, or only they knew. <br />
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I have a sponsor with whom I can speak with utter honesty. Last week before the meeting, she hugged me and asked how I was - I wasn't doing well last week, and when she gazed at me, concern and humour and affection in her eyes, I was completely undone, and began to weep. She stood up, came to me, and held me in her arms while I wept. I felt so safe and cared for. It was exactly what I needed, and it gave me the release of tears and the comfort of her arms around me. Of such relatively small but important things are friendships forged and solidified. <br />
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We make each other laugh like crazy, and can talk about anything - what an enormous gift. <br />
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Before Al-Anon, I didn't know how to be a good friend. I used what I jokingly call "The Mafia solution" when I was angry or disappointed in someone - <em>"You are dead to me from this moment!"</em><br />
- I'd just cut them off, and never speak to them again. I couldn't deal with conflict, so I just avoided it by avoiding them. <br />
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Al-Anon has taught me how to give, and how to receive love. Never, before Robert, had I ever thought I would love a man the way I love him. And never did I think a man would love me the way he loves me. <br />
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I have great emotional wealth, and it sustains me through whatever it is that's happening. I know I have people who love me, and I know I have plenty of people I love and adore. I am a truly lucky woman. <br />
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Thanks so much to all who have written their support and encouragement on this blog, it means a lot to me, and I'm grateful that you have taken the time and effort. <br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-35620250896601320832015-01-21T11:40:00.000-08:002015-01-21T11:40:01.796-08:00UpdateI had three biopsies in total, on 3 new lumps, and will get the results in a week or so - more waiting. Robert is feeling devastated that it wasn't an abscess - I think, in retrospect, I knew it wasn't, but was trying to be hopeful about it. <br />
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Just knowing is easier than waiting to know, I find. I'm not feeling devastated about it all, more that I'm back at the beginning of the chemo round - hoping that whatever they give me will shrink the lumps, as the first batch of lumps were shrunken. It's all completely beyond my control, but I just have to hang on to the information that it doesn't appear to be in any of my major organs, and that makes it much more workable. <br />
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Not much else to say today. Unusual for me. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-60828753507952177462015-01-20T10:48:00.001-08:002015-01-20T10:48:14.958-08:00When Time Goes Agonisingly Slowly.I have never been a person over-blessed with patience. Having cancer means that suddenly it seems that all one does is wait - to be given tests, and then for the results of those tests. To be given treatment, and then to find out the results of the treatment. <br />
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Today I go into hospital for another day surgery to either drain an abscess, or if it turns out instead to be a tumour, for a biopsy. I'm in a lot of pain right now, feeling tired, and with difficulty trying to turn it over, let it go. It's all completely out of my control, and will be whatever it will be. <br />
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I need to go take a shower, get dressed, and get ready to leave. One foot in front of the other, trusting in faith that my Higher Power will grant me the strength to get through whatever comes next. I am deeply grateful for Robert, because I know he will be with me whatever comes next. <br />
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Bless you. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-573534153578539532015-01-14T13:21:00.000-08:002015-01-14T13:22:39.095-08:00Deja Vu All Over AgainI'm going in next Tuesday for another day surgery. Ugh. I have a lump which the radiologist considers to be an abscess, and the oncologist isn't sure what it is. Either way, abscess or otherwise, it either has to be biopsied, or if it is an abscess, drained. So I'm going back to the hospital again. I'm deeply grateful that it's going to be day surgery, and I can go home afterwards. <br />
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I'm struggling a bit with this. I've reached a limit of some sort, and feel like I've had enough, already. I don't want to go to the hospital again, I was just there two weeks ago getting a chemo port put into my chest.<br />
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But the sun is shining today, and I've got plenty of blessings for which to be grateful, so I'm trying to shut out the whining voice in my head, ask my Higher Power for help, keep calm, and carry on. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-69769717742354851012015-01-09T21:12:00.000-08:002015-01-09T21:12:28.515-08:00Be Where Your Hands Are.I first heard that phrase when I was a newcomer, and it hit me with the force of a blow. What an astonishing feeling that was, to realise that the fellow member of Al-Anon had just given me a way to anchor myself in the present. Where are my hands? In the evening of January 9, 2015. I have the choice as to whether my mind is in the same time period, rather than wandering the dusty hallways of the past, or racing wildly along the path to my future. <br />
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My adopted grandmother had several sayings she repeated endlessly, and one was:<br />
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"Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." <br />
I take that to mean that each day contains enough to keep me occupied, so I need not be trying to peer around the edges of today, trying to imagine all the possibilities of my future. <br />
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Living with cancer is a hard teacher of that philosophy. Find a new lump, and one's mind can jump to various horrors and losses - when I'd just found the latest lump, before seeing the doctor, I said to Robert, "I can't face another operation!" He put loving arms around me, held me close, and said softly, "Don't fear the worst. It may never come to that."<br />
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I've just returned from seeing the doctor at Cancer Care again, the ultrasound report is in, and it appears that I have an abscess, and cellulitis, (the skin and the tissues beneath it are infected.) This may sound somewhat gruesome, but compared to cancer, it's manageable and tolerable. I remember the oncology nurses warning us months ago, that I'd be susceptible to infections that a normal immune system can shake off. It's a small price to pay for continued life. <br />
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Staying in the present moment means that I do not allow myself to imagine what might happen "if" this or that were to occur. <br />
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I don't go excavating in the past for hidden meaning anymore, or to feel self-pity about my childhood. It was what it was, and there were bad times and good; I choose to focus upon the positive, rather than reliving the pain, terror, and loneliness. I wallowed in my past for many years before Al-Anon, polishing my resentments, feeling furious anger about the abuse I'd gone through, wishing with all of my heart that my childhood had been "normal" and that I had a family in which I was loved. I didn't, I wasn't, and now that I'm 57, so what? <br />
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I cannot change the past no matter how hard I try. It's done and gone, and I've made my peace with it. Today is all that I am given - I have only this day in which to live, and if I spend my inner life in the past or the future, I am not really living, I'm existing. <br />
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I'm learning that having cancer doesn't mean I can't feel joy and gratitude. I feel as much happiness as I allow myself. <br />
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Today, I found myself thinking that I wished I still had my old industrial straight stitch sewing machine, with which to sew the coat I'm making. It had great power, and would sew through a dozen layers of leather with no hesitation. In the past, that thought would have had a life of several hours. Nowadays, it's a passing thought. I don't have it anymore, so what can I do if this domestic machine balks? Get a heavier needle. Do some handsewing. It's all manageable, if I permit it to be so. <br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-83429142059166701012015-01-07T22:50:00.000-08:002015-01-07T22:50:37.866-08:00Roller Coaster Ride, con't.Just a quick note to say that I saw a doctor at Cancer Care this morning, and had an urgent ultrasound this afternoon, and am now taking two kinds of antibiotic, as the doctor thought the lumps were the result of an infection, and or possible abscesses. She mentioned that on chemo, one is vulnerable to infections that someone with a fully functioning immune system can shake off easily.<br />
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We're praying that the news from the test will be that she's correct in her diagnosis, and that my new lumps are part of the infection.<br />
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She noticed, as I had not, that a lump I'd still had at my last appointment has now disappeared, and also, I'm gaining weight, both excellent signs. <br />
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I'm trying to let go of awfulising, projecting, and worrying, and just live in the moment and be grateful for all of my blessings. I'll keep you updated. Thanks to all of you who sent your best wishes to me, it's <em>enormously</em> comforting to receive them. <br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-2104620185774911032015-01-07T09:04:00.003-08:002015-01-07T09:04:55.850-08:00Roller Coaster Ride.Living with cancer has been likened to a roller coaster ride - peaks - a clean ct scan, and valleys - I've found some new lumps in the month I've been off chemo long enough to get the PICC line out of my arm, and a chemo port installed in my chest. I wanted this done because I'd developed a ferocious allergy to the adhesive on the plastic and gauze bandages they were using on the PICC line, and the itch was driving me to distraction. <br />
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But the result of no chemo for a month is the new lumps. All I can hope is that once chemo starts up again tomorrow, they will be shrunk back into nothingness. I'm feeling anxious and frightened, and have had to ask my Higher Power to take my fear and anxiety, and grant me serenity. Against my initial feelings, I've shared the news with close friends in program, and shared my fear. I have received such love, caring and support, it brings tears to my eyes to know that I am loved. <br />
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I spent all of my life before Al-Anon, wanting to be loved, but being the kind of person who was so angry and resentful that I drove people away from me. I have the support system that I do now because of the person I have become as a result of this wonderful program. <br />
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I'm off to Cancer Care to see a doctor in about 45 mins, I'll keep you updated with whatever news I get. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-65224719509667596972015-01-02T14:05:00.001-08:002015-01-02T21:37:28.393-08:00The Practise of Gratitude. A reader of this blog asked me to elaborate upon what I mean when I write about "practising gratitude."<br />
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I was taught by my first sponsor that gratitude doesn't just come upon us unannounced - not at first, it doesn't, because most of us come into Al-Anon full of anger, resentment, self-pity, and other strong emotions. Not only does there not seem to be any room inside our heads for gratitude, but I for one, couldn't find a darn thing to be grateful for. One of the tools in my arsenal was sarcasm, and I used it liberally, slathering it over my daily life, steeping myself in cynicism and negativity. <br />
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I thought anyone with a positive attitude had to be a fool, or at the very least, faking it. <br />
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My sponsor pointed out to me that whatever opinion I decided to maintain, was my choice, and mine alone. If I wanted to stay miserable, I could clutch onto my negative opinion about life, carry it forward with me, and it would poison all that I saw, experienced, and felt.<br />
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Or I could begin to practise gratitude. For me, the beginning was not just to practise gratitude, but to <em>force</em> it. It didn't come naturally to me, to any degree. At the start, I would try to find one thing to feel grateful about, and fail completely.<br />
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I was utterly blind to the fact that I had plenty about which I could feel gratitude, if I so chose. I was well-fed, well-clothed, comfortably housed, had a vehicle to drive, a dog I adored, and friends who loved me. I was rich with opportunities for gratitude, it was just that I always had my face turned away from those riches, and towards the alcoholic, and the alcoholism, or the miseries of my childhood. <br />
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An AA speaker I really like, Bob B, spoke in one of his talks about getting up every morning, and choosing to "paste something to my eyeball, and that's what I see all day long. If I paste something which is annoying and frustrating to me, I'll be annoyed and frustrated all day. If I paste gratitude, I'll be grateful and blessed all day."<br />
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Emotions are powerful, and can have us swinging like a pendulum. But gratitude is more powerful. Gratitude can centre and calm me, regardless of the level of my discontent or upset when I start. <br />
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I began by forcing gratitude, as I mentioned earlier in this. I wrote down a list of things for which I could be grateful, had it always with me, and when my mood began to sour, I would pick one or two things on my list, and begin to silently thank my Higher Power for whatever it was. After a few dozen (or hundred) repetitions, I would begin to <em>feel</em> grateful for it. <br />
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Practise gratitude the way you'd practise the piano if you were trying to learn to play. You wouldn't walk past it, and hope that soon you'd be good at it, while never opening the lid, would you? No, you'd find regular periods of time in which you could sit down and practise. Well gratitude is the same. I needed to practise the habit of gratitude by forcing gratitude. And the way I did that, was by thanking my Higher Power, for the things on the list I'd compiled with my sponsor. <br />
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Do you have fresh running water? A warm, safe place to sleep? Start there. Be grateful for the big things, and the rest will follow. Bless you.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-28204289505081328762014-12-29T11:18:00.000-08:002014-12-29T11:18:01.969-08:00Pointless RebellionA reader wrote to ask me about rebellion.<br />
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I grew up with an intensely rebellious nature. I was a child, and then an adult, with no respect for authority. I've come to understand that this had its roots, in the sexual and physical abuse I received at the hands of several adults in my early childhood. <br />
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I had enough fear of authority figures, to keep me behaving until adolescence, and then I began to stay out past my curfew, hang out with the wrong crowd, and run away from home for days at a time. <br />
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When I look back now, my rebellion was pretty tame, I didn't shoplift or commit other crimes, and the wrong crowd consisted of some people who smoked cigarettes (gasp!) and sometimes pot. That was enough to demonise them in the eyes of my adopted parents, so of course those were the people with whom I wanted to spend my time. <br />
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I'm grateful now that I was such a craven coward, because it kept me from doing anything which would have ruined my life through addiction to drugs or alcohol, or a criminal record. I think the police in our tiny town had a pretty good idea of what was going on at home, because they would find me, tell me I had to go home now, and then take me out for a hamburger or an ice cream cone, first. <br />
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That early relationship with the police, is probably why I spent 8 years working with the RCMP Victim Services - I've always been comfortable around cops. <br />
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I gave myself a great deal of misery with my inward rebellion. I rarely had the courage to express it openly, but before Al-Anon, I was very uncomfortable around authority. I rebelled against the authority figures in my life, because I seethed with anger and hatred towards the people who had abused me, and I had no way to deal with my rage.<br />
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It manifested as pointless rebellion - rebellion for its own sake, not because of a cause, or a deeply held philosophy, or even a belief. I rebelled because I felt no attachment to any person apart from my adopted brother. Since I felt no attachment, why should I care? was my attitude. As I've said earlier in this, I was afraid to rebel openly, so it was mostly through sullenness that my rebellion was expressed when I reached adulthood. I was a sullen, depressed, angry person before Al-Anon. <br />
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One act of pointless rebellion which springs to mind, was the day an employer asked that the women wear dresses or skirts to a work social function. I went to the function wearing dress pants, determined to rebel against what I saw as an unreasonable request. It seems silly to me now, because I often wore dresses to that job, and had many I'd made and enjoyed wearing. I justified my rebellion by telling myself that it was not fair to be asked to wear a dress just because I was female. Now I look back and shake my head at that stubborn creature I once was.<br />
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I would have benefited from Al-Anon, long before I went to my first meeting.<br />
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Al-Anon taught me that other people (I do not include abusers in this) deserve respect, in the same way that I deserve to be treated with respect and courtesy. My rebellion faded as I matured in Al-Anon; I have become much more accepting of reality, and of life itself. <br />
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I no longer have my childhood miseries driving an inner rage, because I have accepted that I cannot change the past. It was what it was, and although I was unhappy for most of it, I made it through to adulthood, and I have recovered, through time, and hard work in program. I've changed to such a degree, that when I describe the pre-Al-Anon me as continually angry and seething with resentment, friends in program say that they just cannot imagine me like that.<br />
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Another aspect of my life which has been changed and enriched by this wonderful recovery program. I'm grateful. <br />
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I have day surgery tomorrow, to get the PICC line removed, and a port installed. I'm feeling happy anticipation, to be relieved of the endless maddening itch caused by the allergy to adhesive bandages, and to know that if all goes well, I'll get out of the hospital within a few hours of entering. I like that idea. I might even make it to the meeting tomorrow night. <br />
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Bless you all. <br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-73820650116906046282014-12-25T12:17:00.000-08:002014-12-25T12:17:46.041-08:00Happy To Be Alive And Well This ChristmasI got up late this morning and am having tea and breakfast before I shower and go to the Christmas Day meeting here in town. I like to go to these meetings, because I've noticed that they are usually full of newcomers who are suffering high stress at this time of year. I think it's good to have some old-timers there, it balances the meeting a bit more. <br />
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As of May this year, I was told by my surgeon that I had six months to a year to live. (This was challenged and disputed by my oncologist, who said I could live for years with cancer in my lymph nodes, with regular chemo) I wasn't sure if I'd live to see another Christmas. My last CT scan was clear, so it may still be in my lymph nodes, but the rest of my body is cancer free at the moment. <br />
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That's pretty much the best Christmas present I can recall receiving. <br />
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I'm grateful for time with my beloved Robert, who can make me laugh no matter what the circumstance. I'm grateful to be alive, and feeling well, and also because I'm getting a port installed in my shoulder this coming Tuesday. I've developed a ferocious allergy to the adhesive in the plastic bandages used to cover my PICC line, so it's coming out, and a port is being put in. I can't wait - the port sits just under the skin, so no more bandage changes, no more wrapping myself up like a sandwich before showering, and NO MORE ITCH!<br />
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The itch from the allergy has been driving me to distraction. But it will be over soon, and my arm will feel much better.<br />
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I'm grateful for Al-Anon, which is where I learned about the practise of gratitude. <br />
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Bless you all, and Happy Christmas.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-24115884608195954622014-12-14T10:56:00.000-08:002014-12-20T18:09:31.994-08:00We Are All Siblings Under The Skin.Anxiety is one aspect of being co-dependent that I have found to be universal - I hear people share at meetings about anxiety, old and new, and every sponsee I've ever had, has been well aware of the level of anxiety they carry. I used to get regular panic attacks before program. <br />
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People-pleasing is another character trait that seems common. I learned in childhood that if I could please someone, I had a much better chance of getting what I thought I wanted or needed. <br />
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Denial is rampant among those of us who deal with alcoholism. My denial was so thick at first that I was completely unaware of its existence.<br />
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Self-loathing is a phrase I've heard many times in the 30 years I've been in Al-Anon. I know I felt self-loathing because I'd been trained by abuse to think of myself as "less than." I considered myself to be a terrible person, and incompetent because I couldn't make my first husband stop drinking. I believed that had he just loved me "enough" he would have stopped. Al-Anon taught me that this kind of thinking was akin to believing that if he'd just loved me enough, he wouldn't have pneumonia. Alcoholism is an illness. <br />
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Judgementalism - I still struggle with being judgemental at times, although nowadays I can hear myself thinking that way, and will respond to my own thought with a correction, or reminder that most of us are doing the best we can at any time, I'm not the thought, activity, clothing, or behavior police; I need to keep my side of the street clean, and not be meddling in the affairs of others; even if that meddling is only inside my own head, it's still a loss of focus. <br />
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Fear is another emotion with which so many of us in program have had a long-term connection. I feared my own fear, which led to panic attacks. I feared other people, which led to loneliness. I feared authority, which led to my doing what I didn't want to do, in an effort to ingratiate myself. <br />
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Mistrust was my major defense against closeness with others. I can recall going around muttering to myself, "I hate people!" From a very young age, other people had caused me a great deal of physical and emotional pain, and I feared getting close to anyone, because I feared yet more hurt. <br />
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Al-Anon, and a zealous and impassioned working of the Twelve Steps, is helping me to lead a more peaceful, satisfying and enjoyable life. I can revel in the delights of a friendship, I can feel enormous gratitude for the gift of my partner Robert, I can greet a new day with happiness for the sight of the sun lighting my way. Any winter day with sun, rather than being overcast and cloudy, is a good day in my book. <br />
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If we stay in program, and work our program, the Promises will begin to come true, and we will be amazed at how different our lives can look and feel. Bless you. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-7104267802938720372014-12-12T19:35:00.000-08:002014-12-12T19:35:23.174-08:00The Progression of Addiction; But First, A Silly Joke.Robert and I were talking earlier today, about some of the alcoholics in our lives - whether in immediate family, or extended family, we agreed that often, they seem to be living in their own little universe, and that those of us who are not addicted, can have great difficulty understanding the thinking or the choices. He went on to joke that most alcoholics are the centre of their, and our, "soon-it's-worse."<br />
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That joke is silly, but it speaks of an unfortunate piece of reality. Alcoholism is a progressive, increasingly destructive disease, which if left untreated, will cause nerve, heart, liver, kidney, and brain damage - the list goes on endlessly. Over the ten years I was married to an active alcoholic, I watched him go from a man who could drink a 12-pack of beer and seem only moderately intoxicated, to a man who was drunk out of his mind on 6 beer, consumed over the same time period. <br />
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When I asked my doctor about this, he shook his head, and said that this was one of the signs that the alcoholic had moved into the latter stages of the disease. His body could no longer excrete the alcohol quickly, because his kidneys were no longer functioning at their previous level. <br />
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One afternoon, while I was rooting through the junk drawer in the kitchen looking for something, I found an invoice from a ambulance service. When I asked him what had happened, he refused to answer me. I phoned his best friend to ask if he knew - he told me that my first husband had started to vomit blood. <br />
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At the hospital, it was determined that he had thinning of the esophageal walls, a result of heavy alcohol consumption, and he was told if he didn't stop drinking immediately, he was courting death, that he could bleed out from one of the swollen veins in his throat before help could arrive.<br />
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He continued to drink, and I left the marriage about a year later. Almost three years ago, I was out walking my dogs, and encountered one of his daughters, now an adult with children of her own. She told me that her father was still alive, but in dreadful shape, because he was still drinking. <br />
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He was looking bad by the time I left him; I shudder to think what havoc and destruction another 26 years of drinking has wrought upon him. I pray for him, as I pray for my sister - not that they stop drinking, because that's not my job. I pray for their safety, and for my HP to bless them.<br />
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I feel enormous gratitude that Robert is not an alcoholic. Also, he has about 6 years of 12-Step experience, from the time when he was trying to quit smoking cigarettes, which he did manage to accomplish. As a result of this, he understands program principles, philosophy, and language, which makes for another area in which we are intimately connected. <br />
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I don't live with an alcoholic, both my birth parents are dead: the alcoholism in my family is my two sisters. The middle one is sober now, and the oldest is not. I have recently ended contact with my oldest sister, because I am no longer willing to subject myself to her verbal and emotional abuse. It was getting worse as her alcoholism progressed. <br />
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The last time I spoke with her, was when she called to rant and rave at me, because I'd asked her politely in a recent email to please not criticise our middle sister to me. That brought on a torrent of verbal abuse about how "people like you are so self-centered and selfish," - on and on she went, ad infinitum. I listened in astonishment for a minute or two, astounded that she would make a call and say things like that to me, when she knew I was going into hospital the very next day for the second major cancer operation, not knowing if I'd come through it, and yet she felt quite comfortable with calling to upbraid me, for setting a boundary with her. <br />
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That was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back - I prayed about it, thought about it, talked to my sponsor, Robert, and a couple of program friends, then decided that I don't need to subject myself to that level of abuse just because we're related. A friend asked would I accept that from a stranger? I said I certainly would <em>not.</em> She smiled and raised one eyebrow, and we laughed together. <br />
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I cut contact off by writing another courteous email to say that's what I was doing, and why, then blocked her from my email. I recently changed my phone number because my ex got my old one, and she hadn't been given that yet, so she has no way of contacting me, since she doesn't have my address, either. <br />
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I find I can lose sight of what is and isn't appropriate, possibly because I've had so much verbal abuse earlier in my life from various family members, that it can feel almost like a normal family interaction. Al-Anon is teaching me that I have choices in these matters, and blood may be thicker than water, but it does not justify abuse. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-61318987234337958572014-12-08T10:58:00.001-08:002014-12-08T10:58:21.692-08:00 Detaching Without Anger.Before Al-Anon, the only way I knew how to detach, was with sufficient anger to keep me motivated to withdraw.<br />
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With years of program behind me, I can recognise, accept, let go, and detach, all without any anger at all. Some times, many times, what I'm feeling is wonder, at my own inability to see a situation with clarity, even when I've experienced it's like, many times in my own past. <br />
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Denial is like that, though - once I stop denying and begin to accept the reality of a situation, I can be stymied and baffled by my own ability (and willingness) to ignore red flags, ignore my own body sending up signals which indicate my discomfort, ignore the evidence of my own eyes, because I don't want it to be <em>that</em> way. I want it to be <em>this</em> way, instead. I'd like to rewrite reality, please. <br />
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When I heard in Al-Anon that I had a part to play in every situation in which I was personally involved, I fought the idea tooth and nail. I wanted to blame the alcoholic for everything, I didn't want to believe that I had any responsibility, and was completely resistant to the idea that anything I was doing, or had done, had contributed to my misery. <br />
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In Al-Anon, I have learned that if I'm there in the room, I have a role, and although it may be a small one, it's got my name on it. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-90259179330664545572014-12-07T13:41:00.000-08:002014-12-07T13:41:06.044-08:00Other People's FeelingsI grew up believing that it was my job to make other people happy, however that could be managed, and I tried to do so, even if it meant that the outer me was smiling and pleasant while the true, inner me seethed with resentment, judged, blamed, and felt I was being used. <br />
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I've slowly, sometimes at a snail's pace, been able to let go of most of my people-pleasing. A newcomer approached me after a recent meeting, to ask if I'd sponsor her. It wasn't until afterwards that I realised that I'd stopped to consider carefully if I felt physically or emotionally up to the job. I don't want to do her a disservice by not being able to offer her the time she may need, but I also don't want to take on, that which is beyond my capabilities because of my health challenges. <br />
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I will be seeing the oncologist tomorrow to find out whether or not they are going to offer me another 12 rounds of chemo. If they offer, I will accept. I've been supremely fortunate in not having had much in the way of side effects, and if it can extend my life, I'd like that. I still have many yards of fabric, with plans for the garments I can make, with all those lovely materials, and patterns. <br />
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I also have lots of paintings I'd like to do. <br />
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Last week, Robert was talking to a friend who lives with alcoholism, and is miserable, but whom, after having been taken to his first meeting by Robert, didn't choose to continue with Al-Anon. I feel for him, but was astonished to hear that he had dismissed a remark made by Robert about how good it feels to accomplish goals, even the smaller kind, with a contemptuous: "People don't set goals!"<br />
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I thought that was sad. I know I get enormous pleasure from achieving my goals, whether they may be to: create a painting: make myself a coat, or other garment: clean my apartment until it sparkles and gleams. There are many times, and many areas in which I set a goal for myself. <br />
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Before Al-Anon, my goals were mostly to change another person in some way - show them the error of their ways, perhaps, or make them feel better. <br />
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I believe that we cannot change the feelings of another person. I also believe that we don't have to be slaves to either our own feelings, or the feelings of someone else, even if that someone is a loved one. <br />
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We can detach, allow them to have their feelings without blaming, for as long as they need to work it out. While we are waiting for them to come back to a even keel, we can be doing what gives us pleasure and satisfaction. <br />
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It used to be for me, that if a loved one was angry, I was distressed until I could "make" them happy again. I felt it was my fault if they were upset, that I needed to "fix" it, that somehow it was my problem. I can recall my shock the first time my first sponsor said to me, "It's not your problem, stay out of it."<br />
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Stay out of it? But I had so many great ideas about how to fix it!<br />
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That makes me laugh now, the arrogance inherent in that thinking, but I was oblivious to it at the time. I merely thought I wanted to be helpful; I was unaware of my controlling.<br />
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I'm learning that everyone has the right to their own feelings, and that it is neither my responsibility nor a chore I wish to take on, to make anyone but myself happy<br />
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My main goal in life is achieving serenity. <br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-78475068766676135672014-12-03T09:32:00.000-08:002014-12-03T09:32:13.301-08:00Friendship and FabricWhen I moved to this city at the end of my 17-year marriage, I became friends with a woman who is a sewing enthusiast. Two days ago we went together to a fabric store she frequents, but with which I was unfamiliar. <br />
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What a treat that was - luscious high quality fabric of every type and pattern. Rich solids in deep dark shades, as well as light, crisp colors. Rayon, velvet, wool, cotton, and notions galore. I bought some royal blue melton wool to make myself a new winter coat. My present coat was made about 5 years ago, and is showing its age. I am grateful that I have the skill and ability to make clothes for myself. It permits me to make what I want to wear, instead of being restricted to what is available in stores.<br />
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I made a coat last year, but don't like it much, so I'm going to donate it, and make a new one. <br />
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I'm grateful that I've learned to let go. I spent many hours tailoring that coat, but the finished product doesn't satisfy me. I don't like the way the fabric handles, and I don't like the feel of it, it's too heavy, and not nearly as warm as it should be, with all the lining and underlining and block fusing I did. <br />
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I can easily and happily donate it, to a charity shop here in the city, and walk away hoping that it will prove to be a delight for someone who finds it there. It's okay that I spent time upon it, but it didn't turn out the way I'd wanted. That doesn't matter to me anymore. I see that, accept it, and move on. <br />
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I can do this because of Al-Anon. Life doesn't have to go my way in order for me to feel satisfied, happy or content. I have matured in my ability and willingness to go with the current, instead of always trying to fight my way upstream. I can relax and float, admiring the scenery, enjoying the gift of the wonderful loving people my Higher Power has placed in my life. <br />
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I'm working on a painting for my brother at the moment, and when I'm in my little workroom slopping paint onto the canvas ( I find my paintings are much better when I work quickly, with not too much time allowed for picky little brushstrokes) I am filled with joy. Just as I was bursting with delight at the fabric store with my friend, or when my sponsor came over for a hug before last night's meeting. What a comforting feeling that was, to get a big warm hug from someone I love, admire, and who will give my tail a yank, when I'm wandering off the path. <br />
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I was walking out to my car last night when a newcomer from the meeting approached me to ask if she could have my number for twelve-step calls. I gave it gladly. I'm grateful to have something to share, which may be of some help to a new member of our incredible program. <br />
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The sun is glorious today, and I'm feeling good. I see the oncologist on the 8th, to find out if I will be given another 12 rounds of chemo, or if they are taking a "watch, test, and wait" approach. Either way, no matter how this goes, I'll be all right. I know that now. I'm at peace. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-12901063036741501452014-11-19T17:53:00.000-08:002014-11-19T17:54:18.215-08:00Compassion For Those Who Do Not Understand, and For Ourselves, Those of us who deal with active addiction have an unfortunate knowledge, not granted to those who live their lives escaping the ravages of alcoholism. I would once have considered them lucky and myself unlucky, but my years in Al-Anon have been such an enormous gift and a blessing, that I now gaze at the past with a completely altered attitude. <br />
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People who have never have a loved one struggling with alcoholism, may make off-hand comments meant only as conversation, which when we are newcomers to program, and still suffering terrible torments of mind and spirit, can slice us to our core. <br />
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I have raged and agonised over those little throw-away remarks in years past, wondering "How could they could be so light-hearted about it, so unkind, so unthinking!'<br />
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It is rarely cruelty truly meant, it is so much more often innocence of the reality with which I deal, when I love an alcoholic. <br />
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Those who are only really aware of social drinking, can have little understanding of what I may be enduring. And I didn't help matters by keeping secrets and putting on a façade of happiness and satisfaction while inwardly I felt used-up, bereft, and painfully lonely.<br />
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I have learned to have compassion for those who don't know about, deal with, or battle the effects of alcoholism on friends and families of alcoholics. I allow them to say whatever they need to say, and do my best not to take it personally. I try not to substitute their judgement for my own; when they say that "The alcoholic is bound to fail, they always do at first" I have no need to accept that as truth. <br />
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I pray to have compassion for myself, so that I also allow myself to feel my own feelings, sit with them for a while, then release them, and let them go.<br />
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When I am practising compassion, I feel more loving, more loved, and more at peace. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-25719735849479259472014-11-12T18:23:00.000-08:002014-11-12T18:23:10.387-08:00Accepting Powerlessness. Some days are easier than others, even in long-time recovery. <br />
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Today I've been having a struggle, with the part of me determined to be offended by what someone I love is doing. I've had to ask for help from my Higher Power over and over again today, because I've been obsessing, and when I manage to stop, with the help from my HP, I seem to take a short break, then start right over again. I don't get times like this very often anymore, but I do get them, and they can be relatively lighthearted (a weird way to describe obsession, I know) or they can be supremely difficult to handle. <br />
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Why do I want to take personally, that which has nothing, (the rational side of me knows this with a kind of crystal clarity) absolutely <em>nothing</em> to do with me, but is just the way the alcoholic deals with stress? I believe it has to do with ego, and my wishing they would deal with their stress in some other fashion. I want to "help," I want to get in and meddle about and show them a "better" way to deal with it, I want to spout program, I want to control. <br />
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Ugh. Even after so much time in program, I can still display control freak tendencies. If I'm under stress myself, and triggered in a certain way, the record drops onto the turntable, the arm swings over, the needle lowers, and it's the same old song. <br />
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The difference is that now I know this fact, and am aware enough of my own internal dialogue, to be able to hear myself singing that old refrain. In the same way that the occasional catchy song can turn into a brain worm, which burrows mercilessly into my head, so that I find myself singing one line from the darn thing repeatedly for <em>two days,</em> until I'm ready to scream with frustration, obsession about another person's behavior or choices can get me by the throat with an iron grip. <br />
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This hasn't happened to quite this degree, since a while before the cancer - with lowered defenses, more stress, and about ten months of missed meetings, I have backslid some way down the control hill. I need to be more vigilant in my self-assessment, and more questioning of my thinking, I can see that for certain. <br />
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I have my Step Group meeting tonight, for which I am deeply grateful - and I spoke to an Al-Anon friend for a while today. My sponsor was working, so I didn't want to be bothering her with my insanity this afternoon. I'm hoping we can spend some time together this weekend, she's such fun, and a voice of reason. I'm so grateful for the program, my friends, my partner, all of my blessings. <br />
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Hope you had a day with little or no insanity!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-76579416249942084342014-11-12T12:20:00.000-08:002014-11-12T12:20:26.025-08:00Thoughts On a Sunny DayAs time goes by, and the readership of this blog slowly grows, I am receiving more often, emails asking if the writer can please use my blog for their own agenda. They have a book they've written that they want to publicise, they own a recovery facility they want to advertise, they have a blog which doesn't pertain in any way to Al-Anon; the requests are varied, and interesting. <br />
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Interesting because if you look to your right, at the top of the page, is a note with the first part of the Sixth Tradition:<em> "Our Family Groups ought never endorse, finance, or lend our name to any outside enterprise..." </em>beneath a title stating that this blog is advertisement free. <br />
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Perhaps people don't bother to read that, or they think they have a cause which would be acceptable to me, or they imagine me to be swayed by promises of monetary compensation. Whatever the thinking, I continue to receive requests from people wanting to use my blog for their own ends. <br />
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I find it interesting also, because I was raised by a woman who got her own way with the sheer force of her will - she wanted what she wanted when she wanted it, and it was either going to happen, or those involved would suffer the results. She still behaves this way to my brother, her blood child ( I was adopted at the age of six) calling him at all hours of the day or night, with no understanding that he is employed full-time, and cannot always return her calls within a few minutes. <br />
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She will call him at 3am, ranting about someone with whom she is having a feud - lots of those - about something from the news, about her medication. She is a woman who does not hear what she doesn't want to hear, and doesn't see what she doesn't want to see. I feel grateful not to have her in my life anymore, and I feel for my brother, who is enmeshed, and cannot seem to break free, or get her to hear him when he protests. <br />
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Not having to deal with her is on my gratitude list. <br />
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So is having program friends who support and encourage me. <br />
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So is a partner who makes me laugh uncontrollably, and is a man of integrity and kindness. <br />
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So is life in general. I'm grateful to be alive and feeling relatively healthy on this gorgeous sunny day. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3969377097750640088.post-70338528781495877382014-11-07T15:59:00.000-08:002014-11-07T15:59:03.094-08:00Intermediate CT Scan ResultsI had an appointment with an oncologist this afternoon. I had been nervous prior to the CT scan of yesterday, but that was more about the test itself, than fear of the results. I'm very claustrophobic, so being run through the hole of a large metal donut is not my idea of a relaxing time. <br />
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My scan hadn't been "read" yet, but the oncologist went to have a look at it online, and came back saying that she could find no signs of metastasis, that my liver and my lungs are clean, so that's wonderful news. With luck, when it's been properly "read" by whatever experts do that, the rest of the news will be as positive. <br />
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I'm still waiting to hear if I will be allowed to take another 12 rounds of chemo after I finish this batch. That's usually only permitted if the patient is tolerating it well, and if the results are noticeable, which so far, mine are. <br />
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So I'm feeling fairly positive today, just had a nice walk home from the library, after Robert dropped me off there, and went off to run his errands. <br />
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I stopped in at the Cathedral on the way home, and spent a few minutes in silent prayer and meditation, thanking my HP for everything with which I've been blessed. I hope for you all a good weekend, in whatever fashion you define "good.'<br />
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