Hallelujah

I am a Christian. In first grade we were at recess one day. I was in line to climb the monkey bars. I had just dropped from the rings and landed wrong such that I came slamming down on the potato sized 'tan bark'; that's what we called it. The rip in the knees of my hand-me-down jeans (with double cuffs so that they fit) got even larger. No blood, so on to the next gravity testing device. The girl behind me asked what religion I was. I responded, "I am a Christian." Later, I understood that I was also a Mormon and was sub-categorized as to the type of Christian that I was. Later, in High School, I was ridiculed by teachers and students alike for being the wrong kind of Christian, or for believing in God at all. Through all this I felt in my heart that monikers don't matter. I always knew that God was there and that He loved me.
As Mormons we tend to express our faith quietly and feel our exhilaration inwardly. Our hallelujahs are in our hymns while our amens remain in our prayers. While in Connecticut, new members to our faith would often express their emotions in our meetings with the language to which they were accustom. Praise the Lord and Praise God would be loudly heard. I often wished that I had the courage to do the same. But my culture was different.
Today has been a really good day. My health score is 98.6. It started with a visit to a friend whose father miraculously recovered from a deadly brain cancer four years ago. But now it is coming back. We spoke of life and death, faith and hope, and ultimately we arrived at that unanswerable question, "why do some live while others die?" This is a hard question. Two soldiers in war: one dies one survives. Two teens in a car accident; two patients with the same disease. All were being prayed for. What does this mean to the faith of those praying? Why is it essential that we require cause and effect for all outcomes, whether good or bad? Then come the theological non sequiturs. "Why did God actively cause this death?" "Why did God passively allow this death?" and finally, "God is cruel, so I will reject Him." I truly do not understand these sentiments as they go against everything that I understand about this world and God. Bad things happen for both random and human controlled reasons. God understands and supports us thereby allowing us to then respond in a way that teaches us who we really are and what we are capable of. To do otherwise would rob us of our true purpose for existence. Yet, there are also times when we feel His influence leading us to miraculous moments. I do not now nor likely ever will understand why these outcome differences exist. I defer to His wisdom.
Then one day a few weeks ago I realized that I had it backwards. Death is not a curse, it is a blessing. Well, maybe not to the individual dying, rather to our world as a whole. Imagine, for a minute, a world in which there was no death. What would it be like? What defines a cancer cell? It is a cell that never dies; it is immortal. This would be fine if the cell was also perfect. On the contrary, these cells are corrupted. They do bad and unnatural things. It would be the same with immortal humans. They would remain selfish and vengeful. When the space and resources eventually ran low the stronger, more clever and cunning ones would subjugate and contain the rest for eternity. It would be hell on earth. Immortality only works with perfected souls.
In life we fulfill our purpose. In death we move on. It is the loved that remain who feel the pain. This may be why we choose not to talk about death; yet it is not a failure of faith rather its fulfillment.
Barbie commented this evening that she has noticed that my health has significantly improved over the last few months, even on chemotherapy. She is right. I feel wonderful most of the time. I tried to think of a reason why I am doing so well. My logic remained vacant. All I was left with was the strong feeling to consider God's continuing miracles in my life.

Praise God! Hallelujah! Amen and amen.

Kevin

Life-Plan

Yesterday I attended an noon conference at work and to my surprise found it very difficult to remain seated for the duration of the meeting. Dr Shelly Garone was the speaker. She is the director of palliative care for Kaiser in the Sacramento area and is an expert in dealing with and teaching about end of life issues. Five years ago she taught a two day seminar, required by California law, on death, dying and managing pain. She asked the question "How would you like to die," and gave options followed by a show of hands. In a room of 150 physicians, I was the only one who chose to die of cancer. This caught her attention. I responded describing how my father had recently died of cancer, and even though it was painful, he died at home with his mental faculties intact until the end. This was what I wanted. Well, I didn't 'technically' get cancer, but the end result will be the same; or so I thought.
This has been a difficult year for we members of the Northern California Amyloidosis support group. A significant number of us have died in the last few months. I always thought that I would die like most cancer patients; of malnutrition possibly coupled with a fatal infection. However, it seems that these amyloidosis patients may have gone a different route. I do not know all of the details but there seems to be a common pathway that includes dangerously low blood pressure with falls, strokes and probable fatal arrhythmias. But none of them had had heart transplants. I guess I won't really know how I will die until just before I do; like everyone else. (As long as it is not drowning)
Dr Garone taught that palliative care is not hospice care. It begins whenever it is needed in order to help a patient and a family develop a life-plan (as opposed to a death plan) and may occurs years before the inevitability of death. When she spoke of life-plan, I lost it. It was all that I could do to contain myself from sobbing uncontrollably out loud, in a room full of doctors gobbling down there Chicken Parmesan. I thought to myself, "I review my life plan every day."
For the first year and a half of my diagnosis, my disease and prognosis were ever present in my consciousness. Since January of this year that has changed. I now expect to live forever just like everyone else and I plan accordingly. I am not in denial as the former awareness now resides approximately 18.7 milliseconds below my consciousness and can surface at any time. "Why today?'" I thought, "Oh it must be the steroids, today is Wednesday." But what she said really struck a nerve and memories begin to flood my brain. Everything she put in her PowerPoint, I knew. I had lived though every bullet point. Did I need to make an appointment for a palliative care consultation? One of the things that I love about Kaiser is that we don't just care for the whole patient. We also take care of the family.
I do have a life plan. To me my first goal is to keep my family secure; physically, emotionally, financially and spiritually. Once that is done, any excess left over I want to use to fill my senses with new experiences. I want to see as many of natures innumerable beauties as I can. I want to feel sand between my toes. And food; well, the world's greatest chemist cannot describe a molecule with the unique delicacy of a single taste bud. I relish the sense of smell and the persistence of memory that it evokes. The sounds of music, birds, wind in the trees, rain on a tent, the sweetest voice I have ever heard when Barbie says "Hi honey, how was your day?" My life plan is to go as many places, meet as many people and experience all of the diverse beauty of life as my lame body will allow.
I think about it every day.

Kevin