Reflections on the Christian Life Archives - Page 8 of 20

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.

This is the third in a series of posts about sailing across Lake Michigan. On July 12, 2018 we sailed overnight from Holland, MI to Chicago, IL. We did a second overnight crossing on October 4, 2019. On the first trip we left around 8 pm. We planned to arrive around noon. In reality we didn’t get in until about 4:30 pm.

Oops. What went wrong? Answer: The wind.

On our second trip I applied lessons learned from the first. We sailed through the night leaving at around 4 pm and arriving at around 5:30 am. I planned a lot of extra time. The straight distance from Holland to Racine is about 70 miles. With tacking back forth we travelled about 90 miles. It took us about 14 ½ hours. We were powered entirely by the wind.

For our trip to Chicago, I had great plans. For weeks before I plotted out the distance and thought about when we would leave and arrive. Everything started out perfectly. We had a west wind. We needed to go southwest to Chicago. That meant that we were on a close reach. That is a very nice and fast point of sail.

I used the iNavX App on my iPhone and iPad. It was tracked our progress. It continually told me an updated ETA (estimated time of arrival). The close reach was pulling us along so well that it said we would arrive by 10 in the morning. That was earlier than I planned but I loved it. I hoped the marina would let us into a slip or place to tie up early. We would have more time to walk around Chicago and shop and for JJ to connect with friends.

Then the wind shifted to the southwest. That meant that it was right on our nose. That meant that if we tried to head straight to Chicago we would be in the “no-sail” zone. Our boat can sail anywhere from about 35-40 degrees off the wind or more. Closer than that the sails “luff” and the boat stops moving. I had to shift our heading off to the south.

As I did the iNavX App started showing me a later and later ETA. The ETA became noon, then 2 pm then later. Through the night I trimmed the sails in tight against the boat. I held the helm into the wind as tight as the boat would handle and still be powered by the wind. That is a called being “close hauled.”

At one point it, in the middle of the night, it became clear that our plans were going to be upset by the wind. I started the engine. The engine is positioned directly by the stern bed. The old diesel engine clanged away. In spite of the soundproofing in the box around it, it is loud for anyone in the stern bed. Eventually the face of one my crew popped up from the cabin and complained that it would be impossible to get any sleep with the engine on. I turned it back off and continued trying my best to get as close as possible to Chicago.

Early in the morning JJ was on watch with me as we watched a glorious sunrise over the water. We snapped pictures and enjoyed the rich colors. As we did so I noticed a problem. Hmm. The sun comes up in the east. So… if we see the sun positioned as it was in the picture below, our bow was just a little bit off of the east. That would mean we were pointed south (or maybe even southeast). We were not pointed toward Chicago. We were pointed toward Indiana. I was going to have to come about (turn the boat through the wind onto the opposite tack) to correct our course.

Let’s see: The sun comes up in the East. So that means we are headed … Southeast? Oops. Guess we better come about!

JJ and I prepared to come about. The rest were sleeping (or pretending to do so) down below in the cabin. We turned the boat through the wind and trimmed the sails to the new heading. We went from being on a starboard tack to being on a port tack. This meant that the boat went from being hiked up (angled) onto its port side to being hiked up onto its starboard side. As it did so we heard “roll, roll, cathump!” I am not sure who fell out of bed but clearly they were not pleased!

An hour or so later, Sarah came outside to the cockpit in the morning with a look of optimism on her face, “Can you see the Chicago skyline?”

Uh. Well. No.

We have a little bit longer to go.

How much longer to go?

Like maybe another 8-9 hours to go.

In the end we made it to Chicago. We did end up motor sailing part of the way. But we made it. And we did our best to use the wind that we had.

It was exciting to see the Chicago skyline as we finally made it to Chicago!

The principle lesson: You have to sail the wind that you have rather than the wind you hoped for.

For our trip to Racine, I did a few things differently. First I brought only two other crew members. This gave us more options for sleeping. We could better angle or prop ourselves to counter the hiking up of the boat under sail. We could also move away from the engine if we ended up needing to motor sail. I also planned a large cushion of time without any real agenda for after we arrived.

On October 4, 2019 at around 4 pm in the afternoon we left Holland, MI. As we got into Lake Michigan we hoisted the sails. At the start the wind was at our back and to one side. We were on broad reach. Later the wind shifted to being directly behind us. This meant that we would be on a run most of the way.

You would think this would be ideal. It actually is not. It can be a challenge to find the best sail configuration to handle it. The heavy waves would cause the sails to luff (sag) in spite of fairly steady winds. They would luff from the waves and then fill with wind again. When they filled with wind they would jerk straining all of the rigging on the boat. If I kept directly on a run (wind directly behind me) there was a risk of an inadvertent jibe. A jibe is when the sails suddenly shift from one side of the boat to the other. As the boom swings around it can carry tremendous force. It can injure the crew or seriously damage the rigging on the boat.

I ended up with only the mainsail up. I had it extended far out to one side. I had the genoa (large sail on the front of the boat) out for a while at the start of the trip. It would keep collapsing with each large wave. Eventually I pulled it in. For the mainsail I rigged a jibe preventer. That is a line that is attached to the boom to prevent it from jerking backwards. That kept the rigging and mainsail from luffing as we went through each rise and fall and roll of the waves. I kept us on a broad reach. I sailed as close to our heading to Racine as possible but yet off the wind just enough to still have enough force on the mainsail to keep it from luffing as we went through the waves.

In order to make it to Racine, based on the winds, we needed to tack back and forth a few times. With each tack I needed to undo and re-rig the jibe preventer. I was careful to always be clipped into a safety harness whenever I left the cockpit. I didn’t take chances. With the waves between 4 and 6 feet it was a challenge, nonetheless.

I think I like sailing because of these challenges. You have to sail the wind you are given rather than just the wind that you hoped for.

Life is the same way. We can spend a lot of time bemoaning what we have been given or not given. It doesn’t change anything. A truly wise person is one who is able to see the truth and respond to it. Can I be wise enough to accept the challenge of the circumstances that are in front of me and come up with the best response?

By wishing I could not get the wind to shift 30 degrees to make the journey easier. I had to think through the various options available to us and then put a plan in action. The principles are clear: (1) Find the facts as much you are able. (2) Think about your options. (3) Act on them.

The COVID 19 pandemic has been a huge and unexpected shift in the wind for all of us. What can you do to respond to it? What options or choices do you have? It does little good to only complain that the circumstances are not what you want. How are you going to handle the reality that is front of you?

Sarah and I have been asking, “What is the Lord doing in our country and our world through all of the stuff that has been happening in 2020?” It has been a crazy year that I could not have anticipated in any way. It is only natural and important for us to ask this. We haven’t come up with any good answers. In the end we have been left with this: God is in control. We have to sail the wind we have been given rather than the wind we hoped for.

For the past month I have had a resurgence of my symptoms of adrenal insufficiency. I don’t know what has brought them on. At times I have had fatigue that stops me in my tracks. With it I have had diffuse muscle aches. I also have been feeling lightheaded again. Sometimes I have felt “presyncopal”. This is a medical term that means feeling like you are going to pass out. I have noticed my vision gray out or starting to tunnel if I stood up from my chair or changed positions too quickly. I messaged my doctors. They did labs. They indicated cortisol and aldosterone deficiencies. They had me start back on a low dose of hydrocortisone. Later they added some fludrocortisone. These medicines have helped some. I also have made a point to rest more. That has helped a lot.

I don’t like it. I have things that I want to do. I don’t want to have limits on me or my stamina at work or at home.

Several years ago, one of our nurses described me as being like a duck. She said that I would look calm and still on top. But underneath my feet would be madly kicking away to drive me to my goal. In the midst of starting and building our ventricular assist device and heart transplant programs, I set a personal goal of getting at least 5 hours of sleep when I was not on call. That meant that I could stay up late and yet still get up early to keep up with everything I wanted to do. I can’t do that anymore. I am being forced to go to bed on time and not get up early. There are things that I am not getting done. My email inbox fills, and I cannot empty it.

In July 2018 we sailed from Holland to Chicago. As the winds shifted we found that it took us a lot longer than we had hoped or planned. A year later we made the trip to Racine. For that trip we sailed the entire way. On that trip the winds were more favorable, and we made it in 2-3 hours ahead of what I had planned. Each journey required different sail trim and techniques. I didn’t get a choice in what wind we had. I had to sail the wind that existed rather than the wind that I wanted.

So also, in life there are a lot things that we don’t get any choice about. Sometimes the circumstances will mess up our plans. Sometimes it means that we end up going in the wrong direction for a while. Sometimes it makes us late and we have to change our plans. Sometimes it requires us to improvise and come up with new ideas or techniques. Sometimes it pushes us to things earlier than we had planned.

I don’t like the conditions that COVID 19 has imposed on us. I don’t like putting a mask on whenever I walk into a store. I don’t like wearing a mask all day at work. I want to travel. I want to gather with groups of friends. But the question is not what I want, but how I am going to handle the conditions that are in front of me.

I don’t like not having the endurance or stamina that I used to have. It occurs to me that I have lived my life with my adrenal glands cranking out cortisol to keep up with my internal drive. Now I have only one adrenal gland and it is not willing to keep up with that schedule. I don’t like that. But the question is not what I want, but how I am going to handle the conditions that are in front of me.

I guess it means that I need to sail the wind I have rather than the wind that I hoped for.

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