Remission Again

Inquiring dogs want to know…can we please come along to soccer this time?

My quarterly CT results came in last month with a decisive statement from my oncologist: Complete Remission. The CT summary included a string of Normals and No Abnormalities. The radiologist even presented me with a pleasant summary for my GI tract: no inflammation.

I am so happy and filled with gratitude.

I am also aware that the latest scan is from a moment in time. The next scan might be similar. It might be different.

Riding the wave of impermanence

To help me deal with this reality, I don’t want to assume some outcome from the future. I write this not to be a Debbie Downer. Or even a cold realist. Instead, I want to continue to dwell in appreciation of today and this moment. Being more comfortable with transitions and impermanence helps me.

I started thinking more deeply about impermanence when I began to meditate a few years ago. When I stumbled onto the Buddhist Five Remembrances, I found a meditation that lovingly guides me to face truths about impermanence and my life. I wrote about two of the five in this article from 2023:

---

---

I think appreciating impermanence helps me to avoid getting stuck in the unrealistic dream of wishing that everything would stay the same. When I stop hoping for something that cannot be, I can free myself to live in the present moment. When I am more comfortable with the prospect of change, I can be less fearful of those inevitable changes.

Many changes are imperceptible. Most changes are mundane. Some are horrific. Or wonderful. Even though I might predict the general contours of change in my life, I really have no way of knowing for certain. Even though I have agency for some bits in my life, the lion's share is out of my direct control. And if I think I have that superpower, all I have to do is remember July 9, 2023, when the pseudomonas bacteria took over my lower leg. I neither predicted that event nor controlled its outcome (which I am dealing with to this day).

The Five Remembrances: Befriending my fears

I am of the nature to grow old. There is no way to escape growing old.

I am of the nature to have ill health. There is no way to escape having ill health.

I am of the nature to die. There is no way to escape death.

All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature to change. There is no way to escape being separated from them.

My actions are my only true belongings. I cannot escape the consequences of my actions. My actions are the ground on which I stand.

Counterintuitive?

Perhaps, but “purposely contemplating impermanence can help us live more deeply and release our fear.”

From We Were Made For These Times by Kaira Jewel Lingo. In her book, Kaira provides a helpful meditation through the five remembrances in Chapter 6.

When I want to see change

Another unrealistic dream I have is for things to hurry up and change.

A couple of scans ago a suspicious nodule appeared in my right lung. At the time, I was distraught and anxious for the condition to be resolved as soon as possible. Instead, resolution involved waiting for the next scan in three months and then assessing. Fortunately, the next scan showed the nodule had stabilized.

The wound on my lower leg continues to vex me by not healing. I am desperate for this chapter to be over. Resolution in this case involves weekly wound clinic visits and experiments with various topical medications. I am halfway through a twenty-session daily two-hour hyperbaric treatment and am looking to reattach the wound vac. So, instead of fewer medical interventions, I find myself facing more.

Caring for myself in this case also involves befriending my fears and returning to the present. Kaira offers this meditation in her book in Chapter 3:

Breathing in, I dwell in the present moment.

Breathing out, I see that it is a wonderful moment.

Present moment, wonderful moment.

She expands on this short meditation this way:

Take in the fullness of life, the many truths of this moment. Affirm the beauty and wonder of it in the midst of all the difficulty and suffering.

Resistance doesn’t help

I want everything to stay the same. Or I want everything to change. When I don’t get my way, I am annoyed or angry or despondent. Rarely do I move to acceptance right away. Yet, resisting what is — even if I decide to take action — makes a painful situation even more painful. That’s why it’s so important for me to pause and breathe and take care of my fears.

---

---