(Recorded after family came down to be with me and my niece, Brianna, and I had a wonderful talk that night after she arrived. See entry entitled 'September 9th')
In this fight against cancer, I use music. Especially Led Zeppelin. For the last few weeks, dealing with searching out disability options, getting severely depressed at how little help there is for me out there regarding such options, I put listening to music on hold. I shouldn't have done that. I realize even more how much music is a weapon, especially the guitar playing of one Jimmy Page. There's something about his playing that stirs my spirit, moves me to heights I can't explain. Yesterday I spoke to my mom of the possibility of dying. The depression has been like an enemy crouching in the shadows swiping at my legs should I get too close, causing major stumbling in this fight. A need to retreat, regroup, gather bearings and get a better perspective of strategy. I got depressed again yesterday, wondering what this 'incurable' talk was all about. I've lived a good life, but far from long enough. I'm really enjoying my life, especially the last few years, just reaching out and enjoying it. Now this has happened and it's a threat to my happiness, not just my life.
Enter music. I went home from lunch, Mom was with me. I have no satellite dish or cable, so all I have to watch are DVD's. I needed some Zeppelin, so I put on "The Song Remains The Same" and the Zeppelin DVD's that Jimmy Page released back in 2003. As I laid on my little hide-away bed in the living room, Mom sat in the chair beside me, reading her book and watching every once in a while as Jimmy plucked his guitar and made 'noise', but such beautiful noise. Full of life from his own soul. I immersed myself in the journey he took me on and began to 'feel' that joy within. Mom fell asleep, turning her hearing aids off. I indulged in the music. This time the tears shed were of joy, not depression. I needed to get back into the positive angle of this fight, pushing off the depression that seemed to gnaw at me for the last few weeks. I think going back to work is part of that positive strategy. I need to get the heck out of this cubby hole and back into my life. To live like there IS a tomorrow. I know this all sounds very Hall-markish, Pollyana, what have you, but I really was able to touch that positive side of things again. Then, in the performance Zeppelin gave in 1970 at the Royal Albert Hall, Robert Plant clapped his hands and told the audience: "I want you to think about the good things in life." A few minutes later, my brother and his family pulled in from Bakersfield to help me through today's chemo treatment.
I got the message. I felt better, and started thanking God for my healing. And I really 'felt' it, the joy of knowing that I 'can' and 'will' be healed. Sometimes we say the positive, hoping that it will work out. Last night, I said the positive 'knowing' it will work out and is already on its way...I just need to 'think about the good things in life' and put my boys on to play when that depression tries to raise its ugly head again. I was stupid for not putting them on at the beginning of this encounter with depression. I'm taking my MP3 player with me today and listening to them. I'm bringing a book on building up vocabulary to keep my mind going. I've got my brother and sister-in-law, my niece, nephew and mom to help as well. I've got friends and family living far away, and close by, who are with me in spirit. I've got many 'good things in life'. I just need to focus on them.
Pagey is taking his guitar fret board and, in my mind, using it as a sword to battle off the tumor. The one main guitar solo I apply to that visualization is "Achilles Last Stand". When they hook up the IV to start the treatment today, I'll start off with that song.
With my family and friends so close, the good things in life all boil down to the love that can surround us in dark times. I told my niece that last night. There's such love around me that I haven't experienced in my entire life, because it's all there to help with the fight. "The good things in life" are just that...'good'. Simple teachings, but so very difficult to maintain when you're facing death. My mom has a lung disease that is slowly eating away her life, and she told me that she's been facing death for so long, it doesn't bother her anymore. That I'm just now facing death and it's something I've never really had to think about before. Hence the depression.
But it's going to be okay. All of it. The good things in life were hidden from me for a few weeks, because I got tripped up and couldn't see beyond the ground I stumbled onto. I'm back on my feet now and in spite of dealing with a chemo treatment today, it's going to be a good day.
:)
Rock on.
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