Random writing – lunar eclipse, the way to the back yard, ER, cardiac cath, lion…

Photo from David Prosper in Richmond, California, a mile our two from us.

I write things that never get posted. Here are some things I found in a few files from several months ago.

We got up at 5 in the morning to see the lunar eclipse. Wrapped up in blankets and a sleeping bag on the deck with the moon hanging perfectly far away above the sea and us getting all dewy damp.

————

Back garden from the deck

The mystic way to the back garden lies down a narrow stairway with patterned textiles and warm golden light and a couple of turns and through a workroom – now through a narrow hallway, turn right, then left and down four steps into Jean’s studio with high ceiling, the big work table, the sewing machines, journals, materials and mystic masks on the wall – wolf, goat, crows, spirit animals all – through the door onto the covered back porch, past a chaise on the left and on the right, chairs and two big work tables, and now the back yard.

The back yard is small. A path curves off the back porch/deck. Step down 1 – 2 – 3, with chamomile growing between the steps and mint on either side and the path curving past a low stone wall on the right with the large flax plant and earlier in the year there were tomato and pepper plants, and basil, lettuce, and chard. On the left succulents, day lilies, hydrangeas, a bush with purple flowers, calla lilies, and a stone Buddha statue. There is a bamboo grove and a patio where I’m building two raised bed grow boxes.

————

Streams of consciousness…

The past, running through me alive, beautiful, love not lost love alive and within, reborn, 73 years, death not too far away and how can I lose? Love behind, Love now, Love beyond. Reborn into this!

This endless summer, this endless summer of love.

Jean drove me to the ER at Alta Bates Hospital in Berkeley. I had been short of breath for several days, waiting to go like any other dodgy patient. (I asked myself, what would I say to a friend or patient with sob – go to the ER, of course. So I did.) They took me back right away while Jean waited out front. They took vitals, drew blood, EKG and put me in a room. I went out to the waiting room. “Go home.” “No.” “Go, I’m fine.” “I’ll wait.” But finally she went. CXR, chest CT. Out of cell phone touch.

The past, Love; the now, Love; the beyond, Love. In the room, thinking of Leslie, David, Jean, David, Jean, Leslie, Jean, Leslie, David, life, love. It won’t be, but what if this is the last thing I write? I’ve lived, I’ve loved, I’ve been loved. My epitaph.

And I will never grow so old again. Close to three years ago I was so old. I was dark and dying and now I’m reborn.

The things I will leave.

I imagine when it happens – when I die – I’ll feel a pulse of fear.

Bill, Lisa, Charles, Jean in New Orleans

Finally, they cut me loose, with some abnormal findings and instructions to follow-up. More on that in a moment.

———-

We flew to New Orleans with Bill and Lisa to celebrate Bill’s 70th. In a club in the Treme, sitting in the back (kind of the senior section). Rock & Roll will live forever.

I am happy. It’s 12/1, 2017, 747 pm.

And we’ll walk down the avenue in style,

And we’ll walk down the avenue and we’ll smile,

And we’ll say, “Baby, ain’t it all worthwhile.”

When you hear the music ringing in your soul,

And the feeling in your heart just grows and grows…

———-

The moon was shining bright when we awoke in the alive night. We made love in the dawning light.

————

A page from Remember

Reading Chops WanderWeird’s book, Remember: “I’ll tell you of many things, but the first and most important is that you already know all of this” (one of the hippest things I’ve ever read), and you, Jean already know all of this. I don’t think Chops was trying to tell us anything we don’t already know; he wants to help us Remember.

———–

Three days in New Orleans with Bill and Lisa. We stayed in a 2 bedroom, 2 bath house a block off Magazine Street and a few blocks from St. Charles. Gumbo, fried oysters, hush puppies, beignets, all of that. We went to Frenchman’s Street and had a good time bar-hopping (no drinking, no problem). The second night we (Lisa, that is) tracked down a really good singer (Myschia Lake) we’d heard the first night. Hanging out at Chickie Wah-Wah bar. The third night we went to a bar that Jean had been to a few years ago. There we were in the Bullet Sports Bar in the Treme’ – Rock and roll, black and white, young and old, good and good.

———–

I went to my internist today. At the beginning of the visit I said this to her:

I’m 73. I’ve lived longer than anyone ever in my family – partly because of the way I live and partly by luck.

I was married for 45 years to my high school sweetheart. She passed away almost three years ago. The grief was terrible. “It never occurred to me that you could love someone the same way after he was gone, that I would continue to feel such love and gratitude alongside the terrible sorrow, the grief so heavy that at times I shiver

and moan under the weight of it” (from When Breath Becomes Air). I know about this.

For the past year and a half I’ve been in a relationship with a remarkable woman in Berkeley, so I’m there more than here. I have a ticket to return to California next week. And we have tickets to India in January.

All this to say, I have a strong sense of my mortality and I’m intent on living as well as possible.

The internist responded to my situation and got a hurry

-up echocardiogram scheduled. The echo showed a need for further assessment, specifically a cardiac catheterization.

————–

On Friday morning at 0900, the cardiac clinic called to ask if I was coming to my appointment at 0920. This was the first I’d heard of the appointment. I said I could be there in about 40 minutes, but they were unwilling to do this (to my great irritation) and so scheduled me for an afternoon appointment, which was okay with me. When I got to the appointment, I learned

Leslie in the Circle of Friends

that the doctor’s name was Aslan ___.

About 15 years ago in a wilderness area of Big Bend National Park I had a very close encounter with a mountain lion. I had walked away from my campsite to pee and as I started to unzip, I heard a sound and looked up to see the cougar standing about 40 feet away looking at me with those great golden eyes (later, I paced it off; the animal really was that close). Feeling that I should be cool about the situation, I went ahead and unzipped and urinated, all the while talking to the cougar in what I hoped was a reassuring voice. It sat down and began licking its chest, but still looking at me. I zipped back up and turned and walked away – later to learn that you’re not supposed to turn your back on a mountain lion. This encounter had great significance to me. I

Band playing in the garage next to David’s house.

realized that this was my spirit animal.

And now, a doctor named lion (Aslan) was going to perform a cardiac catheterization on me. Talk about a feeling of confidence and synchronicity – glad I didn’t make it to the earlier appointment!

Jean flew in to be with me through the process. Jean and John and I went to UTSW.

On the day of the procedure they took me into the cath room (not quite an OR, but not your average procedure room, either). Everybody is gowned and

Jean and Kristina in Dallas.

masked and it seems serious. I was looking around wondering if this would be the last thing I saw. Someone asked me if there was any music I’d like to listen to. I said no, whatever the doctor liked was what I wanted. They said, oh, never mind, what do you like? I said I’d been listening to the Ramones, I Wanna be Well. They didn’t think they had any Ramones and then someone said, don’t they have a song called I Wanna be Sedated. So I sang part of Sedated to them – “20-20-24 hours to go, I wanna be sedated. Nothin’ to do, nowhere to go, I wanna be sedated.” We had a good time with that, though I can’t really sing like Joey. Then someone walked up to me and said, “I heard you want to be sedated.” I said, “Oh yeah.” And so she started the versed or fentanyl, whichever goes first. I woke up however long later – all was well – Jean was there – they had not needed to put in a stent. “Oh yeah, I wanna be well.”

Some of G-5 men’s Bible study group at Bryce’s ranch

—————

The endless summer: an endless summer is not something that just happens. It needs intention and focus and a high consciousness (like “I embrace your anger.”), and above all, Love.

—————

John and Sherry gave me a copy of Devotions (Patti Smith), one of a series of books on “Why I Write.” The first paragraph of this book sparked this…

Saturday at the Albany Bulb Landfill full of “outsider art”

When I was about 10 I had a vision of the suffering of the world (embodied in my own small suffering – though it didn’t seem small at the time).

When I was 21, home from the war in Vietnam, I made a commitment to myself to never waste my life (though I believe that nothing is something worth doing – Shpongle). And I had a vision that we all are one and took the bodhisattva vow. What was I to do? Leslie was already doing service. I had a groovy little store, The New Store, where I sold waterbeds, waterbed frames, shelves, tables – the store motto was “The New Store is a Wooden Ship.” Then I saw a way to integrate

At the Bulb

the visions and commitments. I went back to school for a year of prerequisites and then on to nursing school, worked as an RN, then graduate school, then hospice, refugees, education, nurse practitioner, primary care. I started writing in 1984 as a way to expand on the vision – healing the sick, relieving suffering (going back to the bodhisattva vow), working toward one world, and so on. Following are titles (pasted from c.v.) of some of what I wrote:

 

Books: Infectious and Tropical Diseases: A Handbook for Primary Care, Refugee and Immigrant Health, Terminal Illness: A Guide to Nursing Care.

Jean at the Bulb

Book chapters: Promoting Healthy Partnerships with Refugees and Immigrants, Culture and Spiritual Care at the End-of-Life, Spiritual Care in Terminal Illness, Anorexia and Cachexia, Six Stories, Promoting Healthy Partnerships with Refugees and Immigrants, Grief and Loss, Refugee and Immigrant Health, The Baylor Community Care Program, Grief, Refugee Health and Community Nursing, Cambodian Refugee Health Project.

Articles (in peer-reviewed journals such as the American Journal of Hospice and Palliative Care, American Academy of Nurse Practitioners, Cancer Nursing, etc. – with thanks to co-authors): Living as a refugee, Cultural issues in palliative care, Community health nursing: Where we are going and how to get there, Culture and the end of life: Major world religions, Culture and the end of life: Chinese, Infectious diseases of refugees and immigrants: Hookworm, Culture and the end of life: Nigerians, Infectious diseases of refugees and immigrants: Viral hemorrhagic fevers, Culture and the end of life: (Asian) Indian health beliefs and practices related to the end of life, Culture and the end of life: East African cultures-Part II, Sudan, Infectious diseases of refugees and immigrants: Giardiasis, Culture and the end of life: East African cultures-Part I, Somalia, Bioterrorism: Introduction and major agents, Infectious diseases of refugees and immigrants: Filariasis, Infectious diseases of refugees and immigrants: Echinococcosis (hydatid disease), Culture and the end of life: East African cultures-Part I, Sudan, Infectious diseases of refugees and immigrants: Ebola and Marburg hemorrhagic fevers, Infectious diseases of refugees and immigrants: Dengue fever, Infectious diseases of refugees and immigrants: Chagas’ disease, Infectious diseases of refugees and immigrants: Brucellosis, Culture and the end of life: East African cultures-Part I, Somali, Infectious diseases of refugees and immigrants: Ascaraisis, Infectious diseases of refugees and immigrants: Amebiasis, Infectious diseases of refugees and immigrants: Introduction, Culture and the end of life: Hispanic cultures (Mexican-Americans), Culture and the end of life: Cambodians and Laotians, Culture and the end of life: Introduction (to a series), Vietnamese health beliefs and practices related to the end of life, Metastatic spread and common symptoms: Pancreatic, prostate, stomach, and uterine cancers, Metastatic spread and common symptoms: Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, oral cavity, and ovarian cancers, Metastatic spread and common symptoms: Lung cancer, melanoma, and multiple myeloma, Metastatic spread and common symptoms: Renal cancer, leukemia, and hepatic cancer, Metastatic spread and common symptoms: Breast cancer, colorectal cancer, and esophageal cancer, Laotian health care beliefs and practices, Metastatic spread and common symptoms: Introduction, bladder cancer, and brain cancer, Palliative care for respiratory problems in terminal illness, Cancer detection activities coordinated by nursing students in community health, Managing chronic pain in patients with advanced disease and substance-related disorders, Islamic cultures: Health care beliefs and practices, Palliative care for patients with acquired immunodeficiency disorder, Spiritual care in terminal illness: Practical applications, Community health clinical experiences: The primary care setting, Teaching strategies for operationalizing nursing’s agenda for health care reform, Preparing for death: A Christian guide for individuals and families, Health services for refugees in countries of second asylum, Writing successful grant proposals for services to clients, Addressing the needs of underserved populations, Basic counseling skills: the refugee client. Cambodian refugee health care beliefs and practices, The dying process.

Announcing Our Domestic Partnership

Bolinas, California!

The day began in bed with coffee, talking, watching the day break, Mt. Tam, the hummingbirds, the light, the Bay, the bridge (and beyond that, the endless Pacific), the trees, our “bowl of light,” our loving. As always, we were there for a good while. For breakfast, Jean made buckwheat crepes with fruit and maple syrup.

We met David for a nice lunch at a typical Berkeley restaurant (diverse customers, good food, flowers). Then on to Marcia’s garden where we walked around the garden and then sat by the pond and signed Domestic Partnership papers. This is the garden, where two years ago on February 23rd Jean and I connected.

So, with joy, I announce that

Jean Cacicedo and I are domestic partners

One of our main considerations is that we want full access to one another if either of us is in a healthcare situation, as well as other legal considerations. We had exchanged vows about a year ago in a deep night – over the waterfall, for better and worse, in sickness and in health… now we’ll be recognized by California as domestic partners.

Charles, David, Jean day of commitment 2/23/2018

David’s presence was wonderful… his acceptance and love for Jean has been beautiful. We all know what we have and we all work to make it work – to be as beautiful as we can be… thank you David,

A card Jean made -one photo superimposed on another

Jean, Charles B. I love you, Son. You keep on quietly going beyond. Text from DK: “It was an honor being there. Our little family grows as we grow.”

We had dinner at a new restaurant on San Pablo. I was thinking, it wouldn’t be easy to be more romantic than we are much of the time. It was a lovely anniversary dinner, interested up by our small sharing plates were cold, so Jean warmed them by sitting on them. This is, after all, Berkeley.

We entered into a legal partnership primarily for legal reasons, but that night into the next day (and beyond), the significance of what we’d done began to open up within us. A piece of paper doesn’t change hearts, still, it was a big step and I felt and continue to feel the tender commitment brought into focus.

Snow/ice storm in the Snowy Range, Wyoming 2017

The next day (Saturday) we had David and Charles for dinner. First course was champagne and crab, fresh, steamed, served with lemon. Then

grilled chicken with Indonesian marinade; salad with orange, avocado, mint, greens, oil and vinegar; asparagus with horseradish sauce; Acme levain; and for dessert, fresh blueberry galette and peppermint tea. California! I said grace, including an incomplete quote from the apostle Paul: “And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love… the greatest of these is love… love.” Conversation was wide-ranging – life, death, food, ethics, television, books,

Colorado, 2017

travel, and not any talk of Trump. It is a beautiful thing that we all are so connected

with one another. Every day I am consciously grateful for this.

Hong Kong 2018

Hong Kong Island, Central

50 years ago this month I first was in Hong Kong. Since then I’ve been in this city about 20 times. The first time was on R&R from the war in Vietnam. The last time was with Leslie in 2013, less than a year before she passed away. Most of the times it was on the way into Asia and again on the way out, with Hong Kong bookending two month trips into the magic of travels with Leslie. Now I’m with Jean and the magic is alive. It’s different, of course, but undeniably beautifully magical.

At the moment we’re on the big A-350 jet riding high and smooth above the mighty Pacific Ocean – the same Pacific we see from the deck of our home in Berkeley.

Life!

The first time in HK was a surreal respite from

Exactly 50 years ago, after R&R in HK

war. I stayed in an anonymous hotel, had anonymous sex with several women (I was anonymous; they were anonymous), drank a lot, hung out with several British soldiers, rode the Star Ferry, ate at Ricky’s Café, drank more – one night I got everyone in a bar to stand while I stood on a table singing The Eyes of Texas, yeah – I was a piece of work alright – and most notably spent a few days with a nice Chinese girl. On the way back

to Vietnam, I got a

Jean resting at the (people’s) Fa Yuen Market

quart of gin and a bottle of champagne, which Jeff Wiseman, Mike Noumov, and I drank on an epic drunk at battalion headquarters on Hill 55 before I staggered back insensate into the war.

In 1978 when Leslie and I were living in Austin, she came home from work one day and asked what would I think about going to Thailand? Yes! Sure! We bought one-way tickets in the back room of a Thai grocery store going from Dallas to Hong Kong to Bangkok.

That first time we stayed in a place in the Chung King Mansions. Leslie was nauseated every time we got into the back hallways. We rode the very funky, very small elevators crowded in like sardines with people from across the world – Indians, Arabs, Europeans, Africans, not many Americans. I would wake at 2 or 3 in the mornings and sit all folded up in the tiny, tiny bathroom reading a Larry McMurtry book. We rode the Star Ferry, ate at Ricky’s, and walked and walked and walked, high on life. Then onward to Thailand, Burma, Nepal, and on around the world.

The view from our room

In 2005, David and Jeff and I were there on our pilgrimage back to Vietnam (for Jeff and me) and the first visit to Cambodia (David’s other homeland). We stopped off in HK on the way in and the way out of Asia. Sometime during those days I was riding the Star Ferry alone (I thought probably my last ride). There was a little girl and her father sitting directly in front me. She was singing, first in Chinese, then in English,

“Row, row, row your boat,

gently down the stream,

Merrily, merrily, merrily,

Life is but a dream.”

The day before we left we were in Big John’s Café, a small place in Tsim Sha Tsui, and on the sound system was,

“Those were days, my friend,

We thought they’d never end,

Writing on the Cathay Pacific plane

 

We’d sing and dance forever and a day.

We’d live the life we choose

We’d fight and never lose,

 

Those were the days,

Oh yes those were the days.”

And so it has been.

And now it’s three hours before we land (we slept for about six hours)… Jean and I in our life together, 22 months and still our magic unfolding. I’m writing and Jean is creating art – because that’s what she does. My jukebox is playing Brandi Carlisle, Chopin, Van Morrison…

These are the days.

These are the days that

Wonton noodle soup (shrimp) at Tsim She Kee

will last forever,

You got to hold them

In your heart.

I’m so high!

In the Fa Yuen Market (photo by Jean)

Two nights ago we went to a party at Peter N R’s house. It was a total Berkeley party. Stood out front smoking a joint. Inside the question arose, who was Joe Hill? Three people broke into song – “I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night, alive as you and me.” Someone was talking enthusiastically about her meditation teacher. I laid a little something from the Bible on her – “In my Father’s house are many

Tsim Sha Kee

rooms.” Jean danced, I didn’t. An old friend of hers and I talked about how just because someone is gone from our lives doesn’t mean that they have to really be gone. Jean and I were talking with a Jewish woman and Jean said, “I have Jewish guilt.” I could see the woman prepping for something weird. Jean said, “I’m the only person who didn’t bring any food.” LMAO.

From Victoria Peak

New Years Day lunch with David and Charles and John and Sherry at a restaurant on the water in San Francisco. David updated

Jean’s Global Entry on his iPad. We talked of music and writing and art and life.

“Baby, ain’t it all worthwhile.”

Tuesday I went to San Francisco to see David. We talked about travel and Leslie and what David said a few days about he and his Mom and I never really had any issues – any big anger or angst – it has always been all of us trying hard, knowing what we have, just like now.

Life!

A couple of days later (night before last): I went for an evening walk along the crazy crowded streets and saw a place I had looked for several times since David and Jeff and I were in HK in 2005. It was Big John’s Café. I had wanted to take Leslie there, but never could find it, and now here it was! The next morning Jean and I went there for breakfast. On the sound system was The Sounds of Silence.

On the Star Ferry. Deep personal meaning to this photo

Life is a miracle!

 

Another week in Berkeley

Sunday

Door – bedroom/temple

Notes made during a week in Berkeley. Photos were not necessarily taken during this week and most don’t correspond to the text – but they do correspond to the heart and promise of life.

In the morning we had coffee in bed, talked, . Had a bowl of fruit (mango, melon, pear, blueberries), then went to a café on The Arlington for eggs, potatoes, etc. Hanging out at home. Monterrey Market for fruit (Why would the NYT publish a piece on a small independent produce market on the left coast so far from New York?). Home time. I made some maple-glazed pecans.

Mango, melon, banana, blueberries, yogurt, maple syrup

Dinner with friends – another couple, a single friend, the couple’s son for part of the time. What a house! What a meal! What company! The son is headed to a detention camp to volunteer with “detainees” from Latin America. I told him these true words spoken to me by Paul Thai: “If you spend time with refugees, you’re gonna be sad.” True hearts. Tribulation.

Dinner conversation: if you were going to be an expat, where would it be. Everyone said Berkeley, except one person said

BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit)

the town that adjoins Berkeley.

Monday

We had coffee and talked and in the morning light. Fruit, yogurt, levain with almond butter for breakfast. We talked about textiles on the walls in Dallas and ways we are congruent. Went to a friend’s house to look at some prints he was giving away. I took one and Jean two. She then took me to North Berkeley BART to catch the train to San Francisco to have lunch with David.

With David

On the train the thump thump thump began and someone dancing in the open area at the other end of the car. Got off at 16th and Mission, up the escalator and onto the plaza with lots of homeless and drugged people

around. Walked up 16th and a few blocks up the 22 bus stopped right beside me – why not? And I jumped on. There was a pretty Central American woman with a baby strapped to her back, so that was nice. I got off at Church and Market and walked up Market and met David

Walkway to Susan’s house

on the sidewalk. We walked to Slurp on Castro – David had a curry soup and I had pad Thai. We’ve been apart for a week, so lots of catching up. What a highlight of my life these lunches with David are. What warm, easy times these are.

 

After lunch we walked down Market as far as Noe and then I headed back up Market to catch the Muni to BART, then caught Richmond train to downtown Berkeley. My bus home (7 bus) came at wrong time and I was looking at a 30 minute wait, so took Uber home.

Looked at news and FB on computer, then lay down

Jean’s house

on the floor to take a nap. Jean came home and lay on the floor with me, then she went to bedroom to take a nap and I went on internet looking at India, Lonely Planet, FB.

Living room

Made a supplies run to Costco – got 2 pounds Peet’s Major Dickason’s for $14.95. Home: glass of wine, risotto with chanterelles, chicken, salad, bread. As always, we sat at the table for awhile, talking, then cleaned the kitchen, reading and computer stuff in living room. At one point Jean was saying something and my mind kind of wandered back to the computer and I realized that the internet is an expert at capturing my consciousness. I had let it! I started reading the new Alice Waters book, Coming to My Senses. Then Jean gave me a shoulder and neck massage – we lay together on the couch.

We both took showers and now we’re in bed and Jean is reading and I’m writing this and we’re going to sleep in a moment. But then we started talking and kissing and  and we went to sleep.

Tuesday

Coffee in bed, talking, and as day breaks.

Somebody did this and similar art on the far side of the Bulb

Fruit, yogurt, levain with almond butter.

Computer – daily dose of outrage at Trump and Republicans. I think the news is becoming unhealthy for me.

Talked with contractor re sump pump – hey, where y’all at?

Did business paperwork/computer – Aaargh!

Monterrey Market. Sandwich on deck for lunch. Took bulky trash out for the once-yearly pile of stuff. Nap. Went to the Albany “Bulb” for a bayside stroll.

Jean went to a friend’s birthday party for dinner and I stayed home, beef stew, salad, bread for dinner, reading, hanging out on internet – travel, FB, news.

Acme Bakery

Jean came home about 9 and we had tea (peppermint, orange from garden) on the deck. Then to bed, to facetime, to talk, to be.

Wednesday

We lay in bed talking and having coffee as the day dawned. Grey, cloudy day, clouds like stacked folded fluffy blankets.

The usual breakfast – pears (“French butter pears”), mango, blueberries, yogurt, granola, pain au levain, almond butter.

From the deck

Taking it easier today. I think lifting and carrying bulky trash, as well as other activities aggravated my left shoulder pain. It’s bad enough that I’m blunted physically and emotionally – emotionally because I don’t have reserves to truly manifest the love like usual. Taking 600 mg ibuprofen 4xday.

Went to Vik’s Chaat for a great lunch of fish curry, raita, etc., + Dahi Papdi Chaat. Then to http://www.berkeleybowl.com/. There is no

Jean and Marcia in Marcia’s garden

other store like Berkeley Bowl. Central Market in Dallas and Austin comes close, but the BB scene and vibe is beyond CM.

For dinner we had left over risotto with chanterelles, chicken, salad (lettuce, mint, tomatoes from our garden, bread. Hung out at the table talking. Tea inside as it was cold and wet outside. Watched part of an Indian movie about Rajasthan – not a great movie, but a good time with Jean. After movie, talking, drifting off to sleep.

Indian Path

Not having personal existential struggles with reality and truth and so on these days. I used to wonder, is this me? What am I doing here? It’s so fucking painful! Now. Now I am happy. I am fulfilled. I am satisfied. Satisfied!

Thursday

Coffee in bed (I’m the barrista – getting up first about 6 to make Peet’s Major Dickason’s strong coffee), talking, looking down on you, your beauty – love.

The usual breakfast. Then getting ready to go to The City together, Jean to meet Sherry for lunch and me to meet David for lunch – and I finally figured out how to order my last blog post. Drove to El Cerrito Plaza BART station where the train came a minute after we got to the platform. Riding through the East Bay, listening to music, Jean reading the 20th Wife and me writing.

16th and Mission

We got to the 16th and Mission station as I was listening to Desolation Row. Perfect, because here we were, on desolation row… There was a bloody paper towel by escalator. At the top of the escalator an old man with a deformed body in a wheelchair and the old man who lets the pigeons in his hands and on his shoulders and legs was feeding the pigeons as always and of course, there’s pigeon shit on him as well. People slumped against the railing, drinking, in a daze, talking to themselves, the usual, but maybe the energy in the plaza was edgier than usual.

We walked to the Walgreen’s corner, past two people with weird tattoos around their eyes and mouths buying heroin or something in a tiny plastic bag from a tall, unremarkable looking man with a dangerous looking bodyguard. We leaned against the wall waiting for Sherry. Up the sidewalk a man and woman were walking toward us. They began fighting with fists and feet. He quickly got the better of her and then they continued

16th and Mission

walking up the sidewalk. We stepped to the curb toward the bus stop where the guy selling dope was standing with his bodyguard and the couple walked past us, the woman crying. Pretty soon Sherry pulled up and Jean got in the car and I walked up 16th. I’d had enough weird.

You would not think to look at him, but he was famous long ago, for playing the electric violin on, desolation row.

We baked this: sourdough with currants, pecans, cinnamon; sourdough with cheese; sourdough

Got off bus at Church and Market and walked up Market to meet David on the corner, then to Dinosaur for banh mi and a nice time, sitting by an open window. Nice life. Walked to Castro Muni station to catch train to BART.

Persian breakfast for Bill and Lisa

I rode the train back to Berkeley and got there well before Jean, so drove to El Cerrito Recycling Center to drop of a shredder and dehumidifier, then home. Did some writing, then Jean called from an Oakland BART station, so I drove to El Cerrito Plaza and waited for her. We went to Tokyo Fish to get something for dinner, then to Acme Bread to pick up a “pizza Bianca” (a large flat loaf with lots of olive oil) for Friday dinner.

We rearranged the furniture in the downstairs bedroom so I can have some dedicated and more useable office space. We were lying on the bed, talking and ended up in the afternoon, OH!

Bedroom wall. In memorium, Barry

Jean worked on dinner for Friday when David and Charles will come over from San Francisco and I helped – spectacular chicken dish, rice (a long way from plain), Persian salad, za’atar, crab raviolis with cream sauce (these from place that just makes ravioli). I fixed most of tonight’s dinner – blackened catfish with panko, salad, bread with olive oil and fresh za’atar. Tea, reading, writing. Bedtime, facetime.

Friday

Jean coming up the hill at the Bulb – Alright!

Woke at 4:30 with pain. Got up, had bread and almond butter and 600 mg ibuprofen. Never really went back to sleep. Got up about 6, fixed coffee (French roast given to us by our next-door neighbor, Akbar, who owns a coffee roasting company), back to bed, talking, profound.

Fruit, yogurt… My shoulder pretty painful. Jean went to gym and shopping and I started on cake for tonight. It’s a NYT recipe that I had all the ingredients for, but I couldn’t access the directions on my computer. Then I got it on my phone and tried to email it to myself, but it would only send me the link I couldn’t open. I

The cake!

wrote the directions down and by then Jean was home. We had lunch and I continued with the recipe.

After several mishaps, It’s done now!

It’s Friday afternoon. Had a bowl. Hanging out, getting ready for David and Charles. Putting salad together, icing on cake, clean-up…

The dinner and company were great, but I had gotten behind on pain meds and suddenly was feeling very bad and unable to contribute to the conversation. I excused myself and went to the bedroom to be alone. David and Charles stayed for awhile and left, but I didn’t help at all in clean-up. When Jean came to bed,

John and Jack

we talked for a bit and then I moved to the living room and sat up until 12:30 and the pain lessened.

Saturday

This was my day to totally do nothing to really rest my shoulder. Jean made coffee and breakfast and everything else.

Our kitchen, our life, our committment

One thing I’ve noticed during this shoulder pain stuff is how active I am. Lifting things, carrying, reaching up, on my knees under something, garden stuff, just on and on.

But today, I pretty much didn’t do anything. Jean was in the City to meet Chris from Montana and then to a play with Linda. I spent much of the day downstairs. A few days ago we rearranged the bedroom/office so I can use it better and start doing all my business there.

Dinner was leftovers from dinner with David and Charles – excellent!

We watched part of Wonder Woman (? not so great). To sleep early, tired from the night of little sleep.

And thus ends another week in Berkeley, another week in Paradise. What a life! These are the days.

 

Common regrets/questions at the end of life, The Shield of Achilles

I was listening to World One Radio the other morning. Someone was talking about regrets at the end of life and by some miracle I had pen and paper at hand. Below is more or less what the person said – I was struck by the similarities to what I used to teach in hospice training and similar forums. I’ve added to the WorldOne list based primarily on what I taught (and still believe).

What this is about is that we have our life; we have our choices; this is it – no second chances except within the context of this life. In other words, it’s not too late. It’s getting late, but it’s not too late. Common regrets/issues at the end of life include, I wish I had…

Been truer to myself.

Been more loving toward the people who matter the most (what really matters in life is love).

Been a better spouse, parent, child.

Had the courage to express my feelings.

Stayed in touch with friends.

Not worked so hard.

Taken more risks.

Taken better care of myself.

Done more for others.

Let myself be happier and enjoy life more.

(One who sees the way in the morning will gladly die in the evening.)

—————-

The Shield of Achilles

Some years ago I knew a man who had been a doctor in the Iraqi army during the Iran-Iraq War in the 1980s. About 1,000,000 people (half combatants, half civilians) were killed in the desert and trenches and artillery and human wave attacks and poison gas and horror. Since that war, the following poem has resonated in me in an awful way.

Now a question arises, will America fight the next war against North Korea or against Iran? Here are some lines from The Shield of Achilles (WH Auden, 1955).

A plain without a feature, bare and brown,

No blade of grass, no sign of neighborhood,

Nothing to eat and nowhere to sit down,

Yet, congregated on its blankness, stood

An unintelligible multitude,

A million eyes, a million boots in line,

Without expression, waiting for a sign.

 

Out of the air a voice without a face

Proved by statistics that some cause was just

In tones as dry and level as the place:

No one was cheered and nothing was discussed;

Column by column in a cloud of dust

They marched away enduring a belief

Whose logic brought them, somewhere else, to grief.

—————-

I feel sick

 

 

Honor Thy Daughter (Review of the book by Marilyn Howell)

Honor Thy Daughter is the story of a mother and daughter’s journey through cancer. The daughter (Mara) has a highly aggressive colon cancer. Her mother (Marilyn) is the primary caregiver and the chronicler – what a time, what a terrible journey they had!

Mara

This was difficult to write. I felt that I should truly honor this book, these people, these truths. I hope that I have, to some extent. In the end, I used Marilyn’s words.

—————

Mara experiences the reality of some cancers: one treatment failure after another and symptoms, especially pain, uncontrolled for the most part. The physical disease is exacerbated by Mara’s difficulties in accepting the realities she is facing – she fights the disease, the dying, the realities of being young and beautiful and dying. Her mother supports her in this and in all Mara’s other responses to the disease. Both mother and daughter hope against hope that the cancer will be cured or at least slowed. To these ends, Mara tries virtually every treatment she is offered or can find – mainstream and alternative. Nothing works. The cancer progresses and the symptoms worsen. It’s a hard road. There are respites, but the direction (toward the end of life) remains the same.

I experienced this as a difficult book. The valley of the shadow of death is a tough place. For me, personally there was an eerie sameness in Mara’s experience and the year and few months I spent taking Phana to chemo and other appointments. Phana and Mara’s tumors (primary colon) were basically the same, as were their ages and the progression of the disease. Hours and hours and hours in the infusion room, waiting rooms, exam rooms, the car… But of course, Phana wasn’t my daughter.

I don’t recall if Marilyn ever says this directly, but it seems to me that what she was doing was practicing a radical acceptance of her daughter’s path through cancer – fully supporting Mara’s every decision. “It wasn’t until I returned home that I realized how much fear and grief I had been holding in check. I stepped into my house, shut the door, and screamed” (p. 52).

150 pages into the book, with the cancer spread to lungs, liver, and elsewhere; with pain uncontrolled; with nausea, vomiting, and other GI problems worsening; with weight loss and weakness increasing, with despair… Mara and her mother connect with a man (“Allan”) who is able to give Mara accurate doses of MDMA. She takes MDMA several times and each time she experiences clarity, relief from pain (the first relief since the cancer began progressing), and the return of appetite. But the symptoms return after the drug wears off. She also uses marijuana and LSD, both of which help, but still, the symptoms return. Finally…

“On Saturday morning, September 10th, it was nearly impossible to awaken her. Finally, at midday, she was alert enough for me to ask her if she wanted to take MDMA. Mara mustered all her strength to say yes before returning to her restless sleep – gasping for breath and moaning… I put a tablet under her tongue.

Her breathing gradually steadied and her body grew peaceful…

David stroked Mara’s hair as I read (from This Timeless Moment by Laura Huxley). Those words, my voice, and her father’s caress told Mara that we accepted her passing, that her death could be noble, and that she was not alone.

All at once she began to move. She took her right hand from beneath the covers, reached across to place it in her father’s palm, lifted her chin, opened her eyes, and turned her head toward him. She was radiant. In that moment, she was beautiful again. With her last breath she conveyed the rapture of her being, life’s final gift to her, and her final gift to us.”

—————-

And we live and we breathe and we have our being (Van Morrison).

—————-

Marilyn Howell, 2011. Honor Thy Daughter. MAPS (Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies). Note that MDMA, psilocybin, LSD, and marijuana are being given to people with terminal illness and despair in research studies at Harvard, NYU, USC, and other institutions.