REM Sleep Refreshes Mental Health

These last four months have been filled with too many health and death events. 

• My AFib went into big time action on Christmas night and the few weeks afterwards,  Result - Catheter Ablation on February 25.  
• My 35 year old son, Matt, was diagnosed with Severe Obstructive Sleep Apnea in December.  The sleep study folks wanted him to get a CPAP machine immediately, before the doctor even had a chance to analyse the results,
• My dear friend, Diana, died on January 2, after a ten year battle with lung cancer. 
• I was diagnosed with Sever Obstructive Sleep Apnea in early February. No surprise there.  Between my son and my brother, Lawrence, it's all in the family.  We suspect one sister is also a candidate for Sleep Apnea, but she's resisting. The Darth Vader look does not appeal.
• My 13 year old dog, Lady, died on April 2. Her hips and legs were just giving out on her.  One could see that she was just giving up and fading away.  Even though she would have brief moments of puppy-ness.  It was hard to let her go. I'm still grieving for her.
• Then Mother died unexpectedly on April 25. Nuff said.

One of the things I learned from the sleep specialist is that deep sleep occurs primarily in the first half of sleep and REM (dream) sleep occurs in the second half. Sleep rests the body first through the deep sleep. Then mental health, emotions and  thoughts, get rested through the REM sleep.  That explains why my dreams seem to always be in the morning sleep periods.  

Because I have been going through so much death, illness, and worries lately, my dreams lately have been even more unusual, vivid, complex, and fascinating than usual.  I usually dream in color. My dreams have story lines.  Sometimes the story line from one dream is picked up in another dream, anywhere from days to weeks or even months later. Lately, the dreams could be a core story for a novel or screenplay.  

This morning I woke up to a dream about a film director/actor who announced that this would be his last film because he was dying of cancer.  The film's story line was about space travel. The director/actor said that he had to finish this film because it would expose all the harm that our modern practices and use of chemicals was doing to our bodies and our environment.  It was his legacy to the world.  His son was a member of the cast, He loved his father dearly and was deeply devastated but ready to carry on the work.  I was the project manager for the film, I needed to revise the film timeline to include medical reviews and appointments.  These medical reviews were consultations with his doctors to assess and prognosticate what was going on with his body so we could adjust the film activities accordingly. There was even a scene in my dream of a film scene in which someone was using a CPAP-like mask to breathe while exiting the cockpit of the space travel  machine.  

Complex, unusual, vivid, fascinating AND clearly a method of processing my own grief and feelings about the recent life events in my life.  It's almost worth going back sleep just to see what story is coming up next.  Or maybe even a sequel to a previous dream.

Mother died in my arms

     I started this blog to create a forum for me to write and share whatever came to mind. At first, I was focusing on my personal challenges related to depression, theological reflections for sermon writing and whatever else came to mind.  Then my mother was diagnosed with cancer and I started writing about that.  After a few posts, I was discouraged for revealing my thoughts and feelings by some feedback that I received from family members.  They really didn't intend to discourage me, but I was anyway. Now I wish I had not responded to their feedback in that way. I wish I had continued journaling while I was supporting Mother throughout her cancer treatments and then later while serving as her caregiver.

     Mother died 10 days ago. It was sudden. In the moment when her body objected to breathing, I could see that mother was surprised. In those five minutes while I was holding her before the ambulance arrived, I could see that she was struggling. It felt like she was trying to live as I was yelling hysterically at her to breathe. At the same time, I sensed that she just wanted to give in.  There was a moment when she tried valiantly to breathe. But it was too hard. It was time to let go. My sister was crying. We were both yelling at Mother, “BREATHE Mom, BREATHE!” I held her. I shook her. I wanted her to live, yet I knew this was the end. From the moment, she convulsed as her heart gave out, I knew this was the end. It was the end.

Thanksgiving Meals for Needy Families

Thanksgiving Meals for Needy Families 

• CTRL-Click above to see the news video. A new tab will be opened where you will need to go to see the video. At one point you will see my hands and my hear my voice.

I finally helped out with Hands for Hope this year.  I spent most of my time stocking the baggers' table with the dry goods.  I opened a jillion boxes during the short time I was there. 

Good Quotes

We must seek the error in our own truth and the truth in our opponent's error

Richard? or Reinhold? Niebuhr

Catching up

Where do I start? I quit writing in December.  I had a lot of encouragement to continue writing. Several friends and family were delighted that I was opening myself and willing to share my thoughts and feelings. But all it took was a couple of comments to discourage me. It's interesting how one negative comment , or even a slightly disappointing one, can outweigh all of the positive feedback.  So much for the strength of positive feedback.  I vaguely remember in my college studies something about negative reinforcement being as powerful as positive reinforcement.  Based on this one anecdotal experience, I could venture that negative reinforcement had more impact than positive reinforcement.

Then again, my energy and ability to focus for any period of time also diminished. The entry into the world of giving care to a loved one during cancer treatments was almost paralyzing.  There is no way to sum up the experience in a short paragraph.  I'd like to give it a go anyway. It's depressing, shattering, uplifting, sweet, bitter, angering, confusing, challenging, enriching, encouraging, hopeful, self-absorbing, humbling, gracious, ennobling and so on and on.  It's a world of paradox.  Your world shrinks to a microcosm, while also knowing intuitively that you are experiencing the universal great truths of life and love.

It's a life changing experience. I have been fully aware that I have changed and these changes are for the better.  Yet, I would find it difficult to describe what has changed. I know that my relationship with my mother is sweeter, more intimate, more intense, more honest, and a gift that I will always treasure. The same is true about my relationships with my husband, my siblings, and my children.

I will give thanks to you, O LORD, with my whole heart... I will sing your praise. (Psalm 138) I give you thanks O LORD for the blessings of loving relationships and family members who care for and support one another. Thank you for answering my call for hope and for increasing my strength within me. You have blessed us all and I am profoundly grateful ,O LORD, for your love that endures forever. Amen.

Chemo: Cycle 1, Day 8

Respite and Work Day

Mother is feeling well today.  Her strength has been returning daily.  She decided to return to the common dining room for her lunch and dinner meals.  Her immune system is down, so the danger is the exposure to the coughs and sneezes of those who are not well.   She tried being in her room for meals.  But where’s the fun in that?  People don’t just drop in and visit each other, they wait to be invited.  So, all the social interactions center around the meal times.  I admit that I strongly encouraged Mother to choose caution over community.  But, I’m glad she threw caution to the wind.  This disease is just not worth the sacrifice. Friendships and community are too important.

I did not visit Mother today.  We talked on the phone several times and I kept her up to date with my comings and goings. She kept me up to date with hers.  Roy and I cleared out the Mother’s bedroom at the house, so that we can stop living out of suitcases.  This meant clearing out the clothes and stuff in the dresser drawers and the closet.  I filled 3 bins of clothes for Mother to sort through and 3 black bags to go to Goodwill.  Well, one bag is full of hangers.  But I feel like these are impressive numbers!  Tomorrow, Mother and I will start sorting through the bins and making keep and give away piles.  Roy is painting the closet and touching up the holes and spots on the walls.  This took us all day with more to do tomorrow.  But I am gratified that we accomplished this much.  One room is now ready for the sale, whenever that happens.  This is one less item on our grand to-do list.  Blessed relief.

"Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."  . . . . 

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for your companionship and for the strength that you share as we shoulder the responsibilities of this particular journey.  Amen.

Family Work

A dear friend cautioned me that being Mother's companion and caregiver during her chemotherapy would be "difficult physical and spiritual work."  What he forgot to mention was the family work that is part of this journey.

My sister (closest in age to me) and I are referred to as the Generals in our family.  We are the two eldest and only 17 months apart in age. We organize. We create. We lead.  We're partners on family projects.  We planned, shopped, organized her son's wedding reception in three days with a budget of $300.  And, yes, we are bossy . . .  but only in the kindest possible way.  Well, we hope so.  The first time we saw the movie "White Christmas," we immediately identified with the sisters (played by Rosemary Clooney and Vera-Ellen).  I don't know how many times we spontaneously burst out singing and "dancing" to their Sisters, Sisters song.

The lyrics truly described us, especially these lines:

Sisters, sisters
There were never such devoted sisters, . . .
Caring, sharing ...
All kinds of weather, we stick together
The same in the rain and sun
Two different faces, but in tight places
We think and we act as one
Those who've seen us
Know that not a thing could come between us ...

But, we have had our squabbles, especially when we are trying to boss one another. And Lord help anyone who tried to get between us and tried to help us sort things out.  In those instances, we turned as one - - - well, it wasn't a pretty sight.

One of the ending lines to the song is "Lord help the mister who comes between me and my sister."  We loved that bit. Unfortunately, the mister that is interfering now is this dreadful disease that is threatening our mother's life.  I really want us to pull together and be the powerfully wonderful partners that we have been.   But my old childhood struggles have reared their ugly heads and are wreaking havoc with my relationship with my sister.  I am struggling.  I hurt when we talk about what's going on between us.  Pride and envy threaten to overcome me. I have to back away.  Create some space and time to rest my weary soul in hopes that the feeling of nearness and that awesome synergy will return.  

It will happen.  I'm sure it will. We will each learn more about ourselves and the other.  We will forgive each other.  Our flaws may not change much, but our relationship will be strengthened and renewed.  

As with any family at a time like this, all the work that accompanies us in this journey is difficult.  All of our frailties are exposed and sometimes battered.  But at other times, our frailties are propped up by the strengths of others.  Family becomes the source of love and forgiveness so that we may band together to overcome the difficult and rejoice in the victories.

Almighty God, our heavenly Father, who created in families: We pray that you remove every root of bitterness, vainglory, and pride. Fill us with faith, virtue, knowledge, temperance, patience, godliness. Knit us together in constant affection; and so enkindle fervent charity among us all, that we may evermore be kindly affectionate one to another; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Chemo: Cycle 1, Day 6

Quiet morning for all of us. Mother rested well last night. The Tylenol PM really helped. It helped so much that she rested some more between breakfast and lunch.

We decorated the living room this afternoon for Christmas. We had a deadline. We wanted to surprise my sister so she could relax and enjoy the beauty we have created. It took 3 of us, 1 supervisor and 2 workers, let's say elves,  three and a half hours to get it finished. We had four full boxes of Christmas stuff. Some times there were too many things to choose from.

This was a joyful respite away from shadow of cancer.

Thank you Lord Jesus for this festive afternoon. Amen. 

Chemo: Cycle 1, Day 5

Twilight Zone  That's what it sounded like.  "Did you get my voice mail?" Her voice was panicky. Clearly distressed.  What was going on? "You programmed the radio to come on and it did at 2:15.  I tried to turn it off and it wouldn't quit! If it stopped, it came on again and again. They didn't stay on a nice quiet station and I couldn't . .  There was no way to turn it off and I have been up all night trying to figure it out. . ."

How frightening for Mother and puzzling.  We talked about hallucinations and she resisted the idea strongly.  Then she heard it again and I did not.  After talking with the nurse at the oncology clinic, I learned that dehydration can cause this reaction.  So we're going back to drinking something every 15 minutes.  What a relief! But there is also a list of symptoms and activities to pay attention to.

Lord God, your presence is a constant source of comfort to our Mother and to ourselves: we pray that we may be filled with your blessings of awareness and understanding, in the name of your son, Jesus our Savior, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Chemo: Cycle 1, Day 4

Wow!  What a better day.  It was hard this morning though.  This time Clara Barton (me) arrived by 7:30.  Mother woke shortly after my arrival.  Getting cleaned and dressed took a lot of energy.  It also took several stages. The first attempt for the shower was aborted quickly, too weak. Each activity required rest and caused Mother to breathe heavily.

It was also beauty appointment day.  A wheelchair came in very handy.  Later, we went to the Doctor's office.  Oh my goodness, so many details! Getting Mother in and out of the car is a real treat. Oxygen bottle, tubes, wheelchair, lock the wheels, adjust the foot rests, back up, move forward.  It gets to be funny some times like a Laurel and Hardy routine.

Next week is going to be busy.  The lump in Mother's breast will be biopsied.  Our heads are spinning with details about blood tests, biopsy, going to St. Pete's in Olympia on New Year's Eve day to have a "pick" inserted, and medication adjustments, and scheduling the next chemo dates.

Nevertheless, Mother is sitting up.  She wants a hamburger for dinner. As they day goes on, she gets stronger.  Thanks be to God!


O Lord, your compassion never fails and your mercies are new every morning: We give you thanks for giving our Mother both relief from weakness and  renewed strength. Continue the good work you have begun; that she may increase in bodily strength; through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

Chemo: Cycle 1, Day 3

"Hello?" Mother's groggy voice was deep as she answered the phone. I knew immediately that I needed to get to her apartment as soon as possible.  If for no other reason, to give her reassurance that she's not alone.  Anxiety courses through me as I rush through breakfast and throw clothes on fast so I can get to her. I have no idea what her symptoms are, but I am a delinquent Clara Barton who was not there at 6 or 7 in the morning.

Guilt and shame are really stupid companions during these times. I could have showered and tossed a load of clothes in the laundry before going.  I realized this later in the day.  I knew Mother was not in critical need, she was breathing and able to talk,  She didn't complain of aches and pains or fever. The extra 15 minutes would have been better spent.  But, this is 3 pm hindsight along with the realization that the caregiver's self-care includes showers and laundry.

When I do arrive it is clear that this definitely is the third day of treatment.  She feels tired, hardly has any energy.  No fever, but a little bit clammy.  She can get up and walk to the bathroom, but needs to hold on to my arm as she returns to bed.  Today, fluids and nutrition are the key.  Actually, that's my goal.  Mother's goal is to stay in bed and sleep as much as possible.  Every now and then, she announces that she is getting better, especially if one of the family has called in.  Then she announces loudly enough for the person on the other end of the phone to hear.

Her breathing is more labored when she sits up or walks.  This is something to watch.  She breathes easily when sleeping and her oxygen is on.  I'm going to look for an oximeter later today.

O God, the source of all health: So fill our hearts with faith in your love, that with calm expectancy we may make room for your power to possess Mother with your healing grace; through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

Chemo: Cycle 1, Day 2

The day was planned so nicely - shot at 11:30, nice lunch somewhere and then return to Mother's apartment to finish the Christmas decorating.  Well!  Come 10:45 Mother gets a "where are you" call from the Imaging Center. Turns out she had a 10:30 mammogram appointment and nobody told us!   Of course, it all got sorted out so Mother could have shot first and mammogram second. I suspect lunch at a restaurant is out of the question.

Mother's feeling a bit weak today. Her breathing is a little more labored today. It's hard to know if the fluid over her lung is building up again or if the side effects of chemo are kicking in.  My guess is probably both.

Lord Jesus, you give us ears to hear and hearts to love, we pray for discernment to give her the proper care and loving words. Amen.

Chemotherapy Cycle 1, Day 1

I see information sheets about the Wednesday Afternoon Chemotherapy Orientation sessions.  An opportunity to learn how chemotherapy works, what to expect and tips about surviving this ordeal  It's Monday and Mother began her chemo today.  Too late for being prepared, but not too late to learn.  I think I will go.

We entered the clinic this morning as two innocents, clueless about the specifics and feeling confidently informed about the generalities.  Oh, dear me.  There's more to this than we had imagined.  There's medicine to prepare you for the medicine to sustain you through the chemicals that kill the cells and disturb your body systems.  One at a time.  The first given in incremental doses to prevent the nausea and measure your tolerance.  The next, then the next and after that more and more.  Seven hours of one medication or chemical after another. Seven hours of sitting in a "one size fits all" recliner, dozing, sitting, snacking, but too anxious to read or focus on any one thing for longer than 10 minutes.

Ten recliners in one room and one special purple "lab" chair.  Gradually, the recliners fill and and empty as people come in for their prescribed dosage.  Some stay for a few hours, others for a shorter time.  The purple chair is reserved for the privileged few who come in for a shot.  In the chair for 10 or 15 minutes and then out they go.  Some chat.  Most don't.  Calm energy, weariness, fear, anxiety, determination, hopefulness are written on the faces and whispered in the undertones of the few conversations.  This is a purposeful group of people.  They are here to be cured, to have their lives returned to them, while wondering (or knowing) that the best outcome is less pain and more comfort.

Today we have confidence that survival and resurrection are ahead.  We have hope that the side effects will be minimal and that life can go on as usual.


O God, the strength and the comfort of sufferers: Mercifully accept our prayers, and grant to your servant Barbara. the help of your power, that her sickness may be turned into health, and our hopes into joy; through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

And now for the real news . . .

Thursday morning in the doctor's office, we were learning about CHOP and R-CHOP, viewing the PET/CT scan on the doctor's computer screen (Cool! Wow! Look at that!).  Four of us crammed into a small examining room and one on the cell phone, listening closely and carefully for every note of this Eucharistic prayer.  Yes, Eucharistic - thanksgiving.  There is hope and relief.  Resurrection from this disease is possible.  Survival is not only a possibility, it is on the horizon.  We can see glimpses of the dawning star that promises another day.


O Lord, holy Father, giver of health and salvation: We give thanks for the news of hope and resurrection, as your holy apostles anointed many who were sick and healed them, so we beseech our Lord Jesus Christ to sustain Mother with his presence, to drive away all sickness of body and spirit, and to give her that victory of life and peace.  Amen.

Getting the news.

Whenever the word cancer is finally said out loud, everything stands still for just a moment. Then there's a jerk of the soul. Time to pay attention to what the doctor is saying. Set aside the emotion,  the fears,  the soul-wrenching terror of losing a loved one.

Focus on the words. Lymphoma. Quality of Life. Treatable. There's hope. Really there is. What does that all really mean?  Does Mother have to go through that pain all over again,  but this time for herself and her own traitorous body?  Treatable but not curable. Are we anticipating years,  months or weeks? 

Questions run through the mind. They rest for a nano second and then flutter away. Sometimes they race and swirl around faster and faster. Dizziness. Grab on to the chair arm to stabilize and find composure. And then when the inevitable question about questions comes,  the mind is blank. Paralysis sets in. The only words that come out are, "I don't know." I have to think. Absorb. 

My very being is screaming "NO!"  While I compose myself for the tasks and conversations ahead,  my heart underneath breaks. My soul grieves and cries.  "No fair. This is not what I wanted for my mother. No way. No how."

Lord Jesus,  be with us in our hour of need.  Strengthen us to drink from this bitter cup. Amen. 

Felix the Cat

Our cat, Felix, joined our family on September 16, 1993.  He died on September 15, 2011.

He was my daughter's kitty and then he became mine.  I miss him dearly.  I find myself still tearing and feeling deep sadness when I think about him.  Our veterinarian clinic sent a sympathy card with a lovely clay heart with his paw imprint on it.  Tears well up every time I think about this very caring gift.  Tears when I look at it.  Tear when I talk about it. 

Romans 13: 8-14

Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.

     St. Paul explains to the Christian Community in Rome, which is composed of both Gentile and Jewish converts, that following the law is relevant to their faith. But there is a need to look beyond technically following the law. The need is to focus on loving one another, as Jesus commanded. For when people love one another, behave towards each other with courtesy, respect, acceptance, encouragement, and self-respect, they are fulfilling the law given to the people by Moses.
      I love to play Spider Solitaire on the computer. Until recently, my goal was to use the least possible moves to win a game. I was focused on the score itself. Then my focus changed to the percentage of games I could win. I started paying attention to the statistics and quit worrying about how many moves it took to win the game. My experience of the game has changed. And surprisingly, I win the game more often now than I used to.
    The similarity between my story and St. Paul’s admonition is about shifting the focus from the details to the essential purpose.

Joy and Sorrow

It's an interesting experience to be full of joy and simultaneously weighed down by deep melancholy.  It's both interesting and dreadful.  It's the reality of living with a chronic mild depression - diagnosed as Dysthymia - also known as neurosis. 

Yesterday while I was at church I was experiencing that beautiful sense of union with God, the Eucharist, and the congregation.  I am so grateful to be serving at my church, and I was feeling that gratitude at the deepest level.  What a wonderful way to celebrate our Lord's resurrection.  Yet, every now and then, for a few seconds each time, I would be pulled down into the mudhole of sorrow and melancholy.  Crap!  How can I feel both at the same time?

Nesting Runs in the Family

When Mother traveled with Dad, she would always have a bag full of crossword puzzle books, books to read, and needlework. Depending on the length of the trip, she would also have a blanket and a pillow. As soon as she got into the passenger seat of the car, she would arrange all of her goodies around her legs and lap. Everything was in a place that she could easily retrieve any item when she needed it. It was like she had created a homelike nest, albeit temporary, for her little space in the car.
I realize that I do the same thing whenever I travel, by car or plane.
My bag now has my Nook, my knitting, my phone, my journal, and pens and pencils. I now always take my computer with me, but it goes in a separate bag. I used to carry at least 2 books, the Nook has replaced that need. On a plane trip, I put my computer in the overhead bin. That bag is so heavy that I am lucky to get it into the overhed bin. So I hardly ever use my computer on a plane. Now I use it often when I'm the passenger on trip that takes more than one hour. Anyway . . . To get settled on the plane, I do the same thing Mother does. I get my Nook (or book) out and put it in the seat pocket in front of me. I get my plastic bag with the latest knitting project out and into the seat pocket next to my book. I turn off the network connections (airplane mode) on my phone, but it's ready for me to play games, read email, clean up email, or read a book. Yes, I can read ebooks on my phone too! Now my nest is ready and I can blissfully entertain myself on the trip. Or go to sleep.
What is your nest like? Write a comment to share your nesting habits with the rest of the family.
I love you all, Auntie Vic