Red Rover Left XL 7 on three. On three.

My cancer story has not changed much in the last few weeks. I am still going to chemo, and it still is a very unpleasant experience. I think I have three more treatments and then we will do another scan to see how well the drugs are working. There is the possibility of more surgery, but I'm really not interested in going that route. When I was first diagnosed, I believed that surgery was the best course of action. But now, after having gone through two major surgeries, and a few minor ones, I'm not in such a hurry to go through that again. In the mean time, it's just business as usual. I appreciate all of you who check up on me and drop me notes. It really is a big boost to my psyche to hear from you all.

and now for some random thoughts;

"Overwhelming sense of impending doom"
When I first started in the EMS field, EMT school taught me all the basic skills needed to be a good EMT, but my buddy Mike taught me the street skills required to make me a great EMT. One of the first things Mike shared with me , something they don't mention at all in school, is that sometimes people just die. You can do everything that you have been trained to do, but for some people, when it is their time to go, it is simply their time to go. Some people are well aware of it as well. Some patients, when you first encounter them, will look at you and say "I'm going to die". As an EMT, you know that this is going to be a rough call. A patient may experience some pain or discomfort, probably cardiac in nature, but it is the "overwhelming sense of impending doom" that brings them to this conclusion. When a patient is calm and composed and says to you "I'm going to die" without emotion or distress, they are usually right.

In paramedic school they told us about the "overwhelming sense of impending doom". While the term sounds straight forward and obvious, the true sense of it is not. You can parse the words and understand the meaning of the term, but you cannot empathize with the sensation. People try to describe it, but often they simply say "I know what it is, but I can't tell you what what it is. I'm going to die". I know now what they are talking about.

Last week I was out with a friend, taking advantage of life while I can. We were sitting at a bar when a strong feeling seized me, an overwhelming sense of impending doom. I stood there, quiet and still, viewing the scene around me as if filmed through a distorted lens. Time stopped. My brain was overloaded with images and thoughts. I believe I even felt my cancer. The music dulled. I could feel my the whites of my eyes turning grey, tears pushing at the ducts. I was not afraid, or upset, but I could sense my mortality, my place in the world, my beeingness. Eventually it subsided, and thankfully I didn't break out bawling hysterically. I composed myself and went on with the evening. Of course, I didn't think I was going to die, at least not at that moment. It was quite the experience though, and I'm still trying to figure it out.