Category: Being human

Reflections that focus on life in general and more specifically on what it means to be a human being!

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Being human Reflections on Life, Being Human, and Medicine Reflections on the Christian Life Updates on my health

What Do You Do When You Cannot See See Out of the Windshield?

I had my repeat CT scans this week. I tried to remain calm. I went to work after my scans were done and tried to act normal. I felt better doing things. Busy was good. 

I got the results early the next morning. 

Better.

The lymph nodes that were there before measured a bit smaller. The conclusion: “No contrast-enhanced CT evidence of locoregional or distant metastatic disease. A prominent subcarinal lymph node and right hilar lymph nodes are largely stable in comparison to 5/14/2020.”

To put it plainly: Still not sure why these lymph nodes are enlarged. Maybe I had a bronchitis or allergies or something? They are not behaving like spread of my cancer. 

That puts me back where I was before: The cancer could be completely gone. Or maybe not. I will continue with CT scans every 3 months and we will see.

Below is a blog that I wrote the week before I got my repeat CT scans. As usual, I wrote this as an honest expression of thought. I share it in the hope that others might identify and somehow it might be helpful. 

The Dream

I couldn’t see.

I had that dream again last night.

It is a dream I have had many times in the past.  

I am driving down the road and then suddenly I cannot see the road or anything in front of me. The dream I remember the most is driving at night in the rain. Suddenly everything is dark, and I cannot see the road. Last night the dream was driving in a snowstorm. I was following another car. I could see the car’s taillights. Suddenly the car slowed down. I assumed they were frustrated with me following them and wanted me to pass them. When I passed them however I was suddenly in a blinding snowstorm. I couldn’t see anything at all. I had just accelerated to pass them and was going at full speed and I couldn’t see.

It feels like I have closed my eyes. No matter how hard I try I can’t force my eyes open, or get them to clear enough so that I can see again. I know it is really bad. I am rushing down the road and I cannot see.

What do you do when you can’t see the road in front of you?

In the dream world, the answers may be a bit strange. I worried about slowing down too quickly because I had just passed the other car. I didn’t want to have him hit me. I felt like I had to keep driving. But yet, I couldn’t see anything. Certainly, I couldn’t continue to just drive forward without being able to see anything. I had to slow down. I had to do something. 

I kept driving straight. I figured this was my best hope. Just keep going in the direction that I had been going in before I was no longer able to see. I hoped that I could somehow keep the car going straight down the road. I hoped the road would continue to be straight in front of me.

Slow down. I know it was foolish to keep moving. I needed to slow down in a controlled manner. If I was going to be running into disaster maybe it would be better if I wasn’t barreling toward it out of control. 

Try to stop? This was what I thought I needed to do. Unless I were to regain some sight soon I should try to stop. This also seemed risky, however. I knew the other car was behind me and also likely to not be able to see me. It didn’t seem like it was an option. I had to just keep moving along.

Eventually in my dream, I came to a town. As I entered the town, things started to become visible. I saw houses and trees and then I could see the road again. I saw enough that I was able to pull over to the curb and stop and rest.  When I did so, I began to think about all of the horrible things that could have happened to me in the storm. But they didn’t.

It is morning now. I am sitting alone in our sunroom and looking out the window. I can see. The early morning sun is soothing. The trees look beautiful. I breathed in deeply trying to take in the calm before I get ready for work. In that moment the dream came rushing back to me. I remember it suddenly in great detail.

Why do I have that dream?

Is it that I am currently driving forward and not sure where the road is going to go in front of me? Does it feel like my eyes are forced closed or frustratingly blinded? 

I don’t feel stressed. I am not obsessing with worry. From a psychological standpoint I think I am fine. This dream comes as an unwanted intrusion on my understanding of myself.

But there is my upcoming CT scan to reassess some enlarged lymph nodes in my chest. I also have an ongoing issue with fatigue and lack of stamina. Where am I going? What is the future? I keep trying to see the road ahead. I blink and try clear my eyes and strain to see. No matter what I do, my vision is obscured. 

That is not good. I am rushing down the road and I cannot see.

What do you do when you can’t see the road in front of you?

I keep driving straight. That seems the most logical thing to do. I will take whatever direction I was going in before the snow blocked my vision. I will just keep trying to point in that direction. I will just keep going on the same path. That is not a great answer, but it is the best that I have. 

I think I should try to slow down. It doesn’t seem wise to be barreling ahead at full speed. The road might just suddenly turn in front of me. 

But how do I slow down? What does that practically mean in how I live my life? 

In my dream I cannot compel myself to push on the gas when I have lost my ability to see. So also, in my life I feel a loss of drive. I now see it is the exact same sensation. I cannot compel myself to push forward when I have lost my ability to see. I find myself pulling my foot off of the accelerator. It is not that I am stopping. But I just can’t make myself keep powering forward with the same intensity.

Earlier this week I was clearly getting frustrated with myself. In the past I have been driven by my calling and passion. I could push and push and push. But now, where is my drive? Where is my passion? Where is my energy? I find my foot is unable to push on the accelerator. My brain will not let me do it.

Can I stop? But just like in the dream, I don’t know where or how to safely stop. As odd as it is in the dream, I feel safer coasting along then I would if I slammed on the brakes.

In my dream the road didn’t turn. I miraculously didn’t drive off of the edge of a cliff or into a tree. Once I was able to see and then stop, I sighed a deep breath of relief. In that moment, I thanked God for guiding my car when I had no idea where the road was.

So also, now, in this moment I do the same thing. It is a helpless dependency. It is like driving at full speed and suddenly being unable to see. Maybe that is ok. Maybe that is what I am supposed to have in this moment. “Dear Lord, I cannot see. Please help me to not drive over the edge of a cliff.”

In my dream the town was a nice town. It wasn’t anything dramatic. But it was wonderful and soothing to have a place with people, and safety and the ability to pull over and stop and think. It was nice to be able to see again.

What is next? I wonder what the next town I am coming to is going to look like? I hope it is charming. I hope it has a curb with plenty of easy parking where I can stop for just a few minutes. I hope it has a lot of little shops and a real main street. Maybe we can get out and walk around and take a break for a little while. Then I will feel ready to climb back in the car and step on the accelerator again.


But for now, I drive on and try my best to control my car, even though I cannot see anything.

My CT scan showed no evident spread of my cancer.  I am on summer vacation now. 

For a moment my vision has cleared. I can see out of the windshield.

There is a nice little town. It has a parking space for us to stop. We are going to get out of the car and walk the street and look at the little shops. A little while later we will get back in our car and we will start driving again.

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Being human Reflections on Life, Being Human, and Medicine Updates on my health

I eat my eggs over medium now.

I grew up eating everything well done. Eggs were over hard. If there was the least bit of runniness to the yolk, it was not done enough. In college they sometimes made the scrambled eggs runny. I still don’t like runny institutional eggs, but now I like my fried eggs over medium.

I was in Key West. It was over 25 years ago. We were on a detachment to do counter-narcotics operations. Our airborne radar planes were a key asset to track drug runners trying to fly their drugs into the US. For this detachment we were positioned at Key West and our crews would fly surveillance over the Caribbean each day.

This was a quiet morning. One of the pilots and I got up and walked from the BOQ (Bachelor Officer Quarters) downtown to breakfast. We settled at a nice little place that had a street front patio. We were seated at a table in the morning sunshine. We ordered our breakfasts. My companion ordered his eggs over easy. They came out and were really runny. But he cut them up and merged the runny yolks with the hardened whites, adding salt and pepper as he did so. It looked appealing. My eggs were a little bit runny also and so I tried the same thing. I liked it.

That moment has stuck in my mind. Why is it that there are some memories or moments that replay more than others? There was nothing remarkable about it. It was not an earthshaking or key defining moment for me or my life. It was just a quiet day, sitting in the sunshine, drinking coffee and eating eggs that were a little bit runny.

Duval street in Key West, FL. https://www.oceansir.com/real-estate/617-duval-street-key-west-fl-33040/581804/62514358

What is there about this moment that makes it come back to me?

Maybe it is the simple quiet. I was not in a rush. I did not have a huge agenda for the day. I could enjoy the moment and “just be.” 

Maybe it is the idea of simply enjoying the simple things of life that are in front of you?

There is a quote I have a on little card in my office that reads, “You have to be bashed a bit by life to see the point of flowers, pretty skies, and uneventful ‘boring’ days.”

I pulled that card out as I was rounding in the hospital a couple of months ago. My mind was filled with all the worries about COVID 19 and the stresses of the immense changes that were happening at the time. It made absolute sense to me. 

I looked out the window. It was a sunny day. Some people were exercising out on the track by the hospital. I saw others walking down the street in the sunshine. I thought about how my patients in the ICU would just love the chance to be freely walking around outside, breathing the fresh air with warm sunshine on their shoulders. 

I thought of the odd anxiety that we all feel of social distancing and these crazy COVID 19 times. I took a picture of the card with the expression to somehow capture the thought for myself. I too get stir crazy at home. Why can I not always appreciate an uneventful “boring” day? Can I not be wise enough to remember the “bashings” in the past to appreciate the good of today? 

I looked and read the card again.

“You have to be bashed a bit by life to see the point of flowers, pretty skies, and uneventful ‘boring’ days.”

I resolved to walk outside to my car at the end of the day. I was going to do so slowly, savoring each step and breathing the spring air. I was going to look at the sky. I was going to be happy to just be healthy and outside and free to walk to my car.

Who knows what the future might bring? Whether illness or grief or other problems? I might soon deeply long for a “boring” day. I should savor any chance I have to just be outside walking around, breathing the air, and feeling the warm sunshine.  Or perhaps, to be sitting having a simple plate of eggs and some coffee with not much to do for the day.

My CT scan report said two lymph nodes. One had grown. The other was new. They could be nothing. When I first wrote this I was waiting to hear back from my doctors. The thoughts of what they could mean disturbed me. They could mean complexity and changes in ways that I do not want. They could have a powerful impact on my life. They are not a boring simple day. They pulled at me and created a deep ache inside that I struggled to push aside as I wrote this.

But that morning I made eggs. I made them over medium. The white was hard, but the yolks were a little bit runny as I put my fork into them. In an instant I was back and sitting on a patio at a café in Key West. I cut my eggs up so that I could mix the yolk in with the whites. I added some salt and pepper. I enjoyed them. 

For just a moment, there was a feeling of sunshine and warmth. There was a little patio at a café in Key West. I was young and the world was good. It was nothing dramatic. It was just an uneventful boring morning. But it was good. The feeling was good.

I am going to enjoy that moment. The quiet. The eggs. The lack of rushing to something else.  

And in that moment I am okay.

A quiet walk in the woods. Just me and the dogs.