Monday, June 13, 2016

Rising to the Occasion

I'm typing this from the waiting room of Portland Union Station, where I'm patiently awaiting departure of the eastbound Empire Builder. Over the weekend I partnered with Ma'ikwe Ludwig to conduct a three-day facilitation training in the Pacific Northwest, and the best news is that I was able to answer the bell and am returning home without being depleted or exhausted. Hurray!

Though I was pretty tired by dinner time each day, I didn't miss any sessions and was able to give teacher-grade attention to the class—which is my baseline standard for doing the work. After placing my process work on hold to focus on my health more than four months ago, it was gratifying to be able to once again give to others—helping to address, even in a small way, the imbalance in my karmic balance sheet.

It was the most ambitious thing I've attempted since being diagnosed with multiple myeloma in late January. It is also the last piece of work I'll attempt before my stem-cell transplant, which begins July 12. (To be sure, I still need to craft my reports from the weekend, so the work from last weekend isn't yet complete, but I can accomplish that in my own rhythm and at home). If things go well with the transplant and I am able to place the cancer in remission, the work this weekend will be a prelude to my reestablishing my consulting/teaching career. If things do not go well—which is always a chance, no matter how much I think good thoughts—then this past weekend my be my last turn at the lectern. As everyone present was aware of that range of possibilities, it added both poignancy and preciousness to our time together. At some point I will inevitably teach for the last time. Perhaps it just happened.

Being able to do the work also served as a helpful marker, indicating how far I've come in my recovery of everyday functionality. After all, my health goal is not simply to keep breathing; I need to be strong enough to deliver the goods when working with groups, which has implications about stamina, ability to focus my energy away from myself (good facilitators, in my view, approximate egolessness), and lightness on one's feet. It was not at all clear going at what level I could perform, and it was deeply satisfying to find that my recovery was strong enough to be solid as an instructor.

To be sure, this would not have gone nearly as well if I didn't have an accomplished partner to work with and the class benefited substantially from all the work that Ma'ikwe and I have done over the years to figure out how to blend our energies when sharing the stage. Even though I never left the room, there were moments when I needed to dial back my energy in order to focus on recuperation rather than delivery, and I could trust Ma'ikwe to handle the temporary increased load in those moments.

Dexa Bounce
I went to bed early Sunday evening (9 pm), happy to give my body a rest. Although I had a wide open Monday (with nothing scheduled before a leisurely 4:45 pm departure from Portland Union Station), I awoke with a small headache and was worried about how draining it might be coping with that for 38 hours on the choo choo.

After gratefully consuming a Honduran breakfast lovingly prepared by my host, Luz (scrambled eggs, salsa, warm whole wheat tortillas, garnished liberally with fresh-from-the-garden kale sauteed in oil and garlic), I went back to bed, hoping that further rest would work its magic on my headache. Fortunately, that's exactly what happened! What I had forgotten was the serendipity that my chemotherapy protocol calls for me to ingest 40 mg of dexamethasone (a steroid) every Monday and I reliably get a boost in well-being from that treatment. It couldn't have landed at a better time, and my headache is gone!

Ma'ikwe and I are traveling together as we head east. I'll get off at St Paul Wed morning, and she'll continue on to Chicago and then Quincy IL that same day. Via Skyline Shuttle I'll be back in Duluth by noon. After Susan collects me we'll drop off my still crippled laptop at Downtown Computer in order to get my email restored (messages have been accumulating for 11 days and counting) and Microsoft Office enabled. I'm doing what I can to prepare myself psychically for the avalanche of messages that will accompany the restoration, but I don't have much choice in the matter. I'm simply going to have to take my lumps.

A couple times over the course of last weekend I was able to avail myself of a work-around to connect with Susan. I borrowed Nancy's laptop (she's a student in the course) to compose a brief email message and then used Ma'ikwe's smart phone to establish a hotspot sufficient to send the message. (I couldn't use my laptop because I don't have access to Apple Mail yet). Fortunately this convoluted process was successful and we were able to share a few snippets. Though all too brief (an appetizer is not an entrée) , it was way better than radio silence.

I'm already looking forward with joy to ease with which I'll be able to connect with her again starting Wed afternoon—when all I'll have to do is to turn my head to the right and start speaking.

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