The Bar Mitzvah

I was laying on our massage table for my Wednesday morning accupunture and Tui Na treatment with Steve. I had been feeling differently lately.  Maybe for about two weeks. Different from my constant state of elation that I've been feeling for over a year now.  I was so suprised by it.  And for me to be surprised by that is truly silly.  I used to be the Queen of mood dips. Those all of a sudden, can't quite figure out why, moments when things just flip, and it would be really hard to figure out why. But looking back, I think it was that my emotional state was typiclly pretty negative and when it was on the upside, it was a real pleasure. 

So, cancer was a really hard teacher. but it gave me the wherewithal and the time to get a grip on it. The depressed feelings truely weren't doing me any good. Hence, all the councilling, self-help books and powwows at the beginning of my cancer treatment four years ago. It was excruciating. My friends bombarding my first hospital room by taping up the walls with home-made affirmations. I still have them. This was my initial launching into throwing off old, unwanted, unneeded things.  Looking back, I am truely thankful indeed, because today, my emotions don't control me. They are just emotions. But, worth being looked at, because I find if you don't give them some attention, they'll just badger you until you do. 

Usually, Steve will ask me how I am, and then pop me on the table face up. He'll get his needles out and begin. Some needles I hardly feel going in.  He'll ask me if it's "achy pricky" and I'll tell him. My hunch is that if it is, it's for sure hitting a needed spot. And if it does hurt I usually ask what that point is and he'll usually answer things like, lungs, blood tonification, liver, etc.

Steve's a really straight-forward but relaxed person. And this week, he's mentioning the function of a few points and then he puts one in my ear that REALLY hurts, says "grief" and keeps on going. Now, first of all, I don't think he's ever mentioned an emotion in relation to the accupuncture before. And I'm like, "What?" and he's like "What?" And I realized he nailed it. I've been feeling grief. The weird emotion that had been getting me down finally got a name. 

But what the heck was I grieving? It took a good think to figure it out. I know I had been feeling pissed about lost time in Ari's childhood. Adorable years I missed. But, I'm here! And that's always been my attitude. Then I've also been thinkng a lot of the fact that I have not heard from my donor and might not.  I've been starting to let go of that possibility. Then I thought maybe I've just been suffering because of my sub-conscious personal medical experiment in which I didn't take my drugs for three days and brought on the worst GVH crazy whole body itching attack. Skipping the steroids was stupid. I've learned I definitly need them. I just have such a love/hate relationship with medications. I obviously  needed to find out for myself. Which I did. Two weeks later and now up on a much higher dose of steroids, I'm still itchy. But better. 

Then, I think it hit me. It was the Bar Mitzvah. One of the most beautiful days of my life. Our week in Israel was perfect. Surrounded by friends. Isaac's hard hard work blossomed in a seamless, meaningful, fun ceremony. We could not be prouder in any way. And this left me with a high for many weeks and still does. But after the dust settled, I realize, Isaac is 13. And there's no going back. Only forward. And he's big, and mature and not a baby, in any way.  No matter how you slice it, that's hard on a mama.

It really hit me this week when he came home from school and told me they were studying blood diseases in science. He asked my why I never told him that you have a 50% chance of dying if you have Leukemia. I told him that I never believed in those statistics. To me it's really 0% or 100%. There's no in-between. "And", I said, "why would I tell my nine year old something like that anyway? It would have worried you horribly". He answered that, yes, he was nine, but then he was ten and eleven and now thirteen. I apologized. And I asked him what he thinks he would have done differently if he had known that. He said, "I wouldn't have been so bored when I went to visit you at the hospital".  

There's such a depth of caring in there. But I'm still glad I never told him those statistics. 

So, while I've been writing this my itunes songs have just been shuffling around. And this perfect Abbey Lincoln song came on. Here are the lyrics:

Throw It Away

I think about the life I live
A figure made of clay
And think about the things I lost
The things I gave away

And when I'm in a certain mood
I search the house and look
One night I found these magic words
In a magic book

Throw it away
Throw it away
Give your love, live your life
Each and every day

And keep your hand wide open
Let the sun shine through
'Cause you can never lose a thing
If it belongs to you

There's a hand to rock the cradle
And a hand to help us stand
With a gentle kind of motion
As it moves across the land

And the hand's unclenched and open
Gifts of life and love it brings
So keep your hand wide open
If you're needing anything

Throw it away
Throw it away
Give your love, live your life
Each and every day

And keep your hand wide open
Let the sun shine through
'Cause you can never lose a thing
If it belongs to you

Throw it away
Throw it away
Give your love, live your life
Each and every day

And keep your hand wide open
Let the sun shine through
'Cause you can never lose a thing
If it belongs to you

'Cause you can never lose a thing
If it belongs to you
You can never ever lose a thing
If it belongs to you

You can never ever lose a thing
If it belongs to you
You can never ever lose a thing
If it belongs to you

And here's a link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ALhAmEhKqsQ

And if you've made it to the end of this blog entry, there is some very good news!

I just learned the other day that my donor DOES want to make contact with me and we can begin that process!! I'm so excited. I found out while reading my emails on the 46 (phantom) Bus (it never comes) from Hampstead Heath to St.John's Wood at rush hour. I started that weird laughing/crying thing. The happiest lady on that crowded route.