A Friend Whose Generosity Knows No Limit

 

Donna, on the right, with a friend in California

Today, I’ve news to share about Elisa. In addition, I want to introduce you to Donna, a friend who’s in need of our connection and our collective energy in the Holy Oneness of All Creation.

 

Elisa:

Late last week, the doctors discovered a number of blood clots in her lungs. For three months, she’ll give herself a shot of blood thinner two times a day in her abdomen.

 

Five days ago, the oncologist ordered a new MRI. She discovered a brain tumor that wasn’t there two weeks before. In that time, it appeared and grew rapidly. (The word aggressive is being used.) The tumor is resting on that part of her brain which, if I’m understanding correctly, determines or influences her personality. 

 

Surgery would be risky. Instead, the radiologist will do a 55-minute session of radiation on the tumor. He will then schedule a series of radiation sessions to reduce the size of the tumor.

 

For this radiation, Elisa must lie totally still. To ensure that, the doctors will make a mold to cocoon her. I’m not sure if the mold (with its three holes—two for eyes; one for breathing) is just of her head or if it will be of her entire body. 

 

Elisa’s spirits remain good although she hesitates to shave her head for the mold/radiation. But it must be done. She explained to me that her hair is part of her identity. I’d never thought about that, but her explanation made sense to me.

 

 

Donna:

My cousin Kay was twelve years younger than I, but always there was a connection between us. When I lived in Minnesota, she and her friend Donna would visit periodically, bringing with them two shelties. The four cats with whom I lived deplored the dogs’ presence and disappeared tout de suite! Undeterred, Donna always found their hider-holes and won them over.

 

During those visits, Donna and I became friends; her connection with animals awed me. (She is, I think, a true “dog . . . and cat . . . whisperer.”) It was during those visits that I first realized she is, in her essence, a giver.  A care-giver, yes, but also a giver of time to all who need help.

 

About eighteen months after I moved back to Missouri, my cousin died of the complications of diabetes. It was then that Donna offered to help me whenever I needed a ride to a doctor’s appointment, to a new store, to lunch, or the movies. That became even more important to me when I had to give up driving in October 2016.

 

I sometimes think that the word Generous is incised on her heart and in the bright pathways of her brain. She’s never failed to wholeheartedly respond when I’ve asked for help. 

 

Now, I hope—with your help—to help her. 

 

Tomorrow—Thursday 11/19/20—she is being operated on for stage 2 breast cancer. Afterward, she will have radiation for several weeks. 

 

So it is that once again I call upon your own generosity and ask you to remember her in your thoughts, prayers, visualizations—however you connect with the needs of others.

 

Tomorrow, I hope to once again begin to visit your blogs. That is, I hope to resume my life, which has been on hold due to my knee replacement a year ago and the vision problems and Meniere’s symptoms of this year. 

 

I tell you this because I’d like to make a suggestion: when you see a comment from me, please think of Donna and Elisa. That thought—momentary/fleeting/ephemeral—will be, I believe your prayer. It will connect you to the two of them in Holy Oneness. It is in Oneness that we meet. 

 

Peace. 

With Gratitude

Hello All,

 Here’s a quick update on Elisa.

 

1^st—All is well. On Tuesday, the surgeons operated to remove the tumor on her L3 vertebra.

 

2^nd—They fused the spine from L1-L5, removed the tumor and most of the infected bone in the L3 vertebra, and put a “cage” in its place.

 

3^rd—This relived the pressure from her nerves that was causing the horrific pain. 

 

4^th—The operation took about 8 hours.

 

5^th—When she was in recovery, the nurse told Mike that “the patient was doing well.”

 

6^th—The surgeon told him that “things went extremely well.”

 

7^th—The surgeon put a “drain” in her back to protect the nerves from whatever small bleeding would happen around the spine. 

 

8^th—I’m not sure if the drain has been removed as I haven’t heard anything more since Tuesday, late afternoon. Mike, I suspect, is exhausted from the burden of worry beforehand and the tidal wave of joy and relief afterward. . . And Elisa, I hope, is resting, snoozing, napping, sleeping, and letting herself drift into a Nirvana that is free of that deep, down, bone pain.

 

9^th—Here are two photographs she’s posted on Facebook. The first is from Wednesday, the day after the operation. The second was posted today. Note that the cage looks like a violin. On Facebook, Elisa commented about that. You see, she was a childhood progeny on the violin and has been making music all her life. I hope how that she will be making it again—pain-free.

 

Thank you for all the healing thoughts, prayers, energy, concern, love with which you swaddled Elisa. I am in awe—inspired by—your generosity of spirit. Peace.

 

FYI: Monday, during and after the operation, I reread all your comments on my past two postings: Thursday, November 5, and Monday, November 9. In gratitude, I responded to your words. So, if you have the time and the inclination, I encourage you to go to those two posts and read the responses. Thank you again. Peace. 

Possible Surgery Tomorrow

 Here’s Elisa and I caught up in some tomfoolery in her home in Idaho.

 

 

First, I heartfelt thank-you to those of you who left a comment for the last posting in which I shared with you what was happening with Elisa and the stage-four melanoma that has invaded her body. Thank you for your blessings.

 

Second, please continue to raise her up into the light of your own belief in the possibility of healing.

 

Third, I just got the latest news: Tomorrow the doctors at Huntsman Cancer Institute will operate on her back to decompress it. Elisa’s back pain has been horrific. The medicines they’ve tried—ones that the insurance company will cover—have not worked well. Finally, however, last night one did work, and she got a good night’s sleep. That is, I believe, a great blessing in and of itself. A grace.

 

She called me a few minutes ago—I hadn’t heard from her for three days because of the pain and the great exhaustion it brings with it. Her voice sounded stronger than it had been when we spoke on Thursday.

 

The cancer has “eaten” away over half of the L2 and the L3 vertebra. The pressure against her spinal cord is great. So, a decompression, as I understand it, will happen tomorrow.

 

The doctors have told both Elisa and Mike (her husband) that the operation is “high risk.”

 

The surgeon wanted to operate today, but could not do so because of the gravity of the other scheduled operations. However, the surgeon is almost certain that tomorrow she can “slip” Elisa in.

 

Trying to stay in this present moment, I am cloaking her in a cocoon of the healing white light of the Holy Oneness of All Creation. 

 

I believe in Oneness. That is to say, I believe in the power of our collective energy; I believe in the power of our collective intentions; I believe in the power of our collective desire for whatever healing is needed for Elisa. 

 

On Thursday, I said to her, “This must be the hardest thing you’ve ever experienced.” 

 

She replied, “No, Dee, it isn’t. The hardest was losing Zeke.”

 

Zeke was her two-month-old baby who never left the hospital and died there, in her arms.

 

I am so grateful that I’m being part of her journey through this life-threatening experience, which demands great courage. She, the former student, is teaching me, the former mentor. And that’s one way in which one generation blesses another. As the poet said, “Everywhere there is one, and never two.”

 

Peace.

An Update on Elisa's Cancer

 

In last Sunday’s posting, I shared with you what is happening with Elisa, the young woman who has become a daughter/grand-daughter to me in the past seven years. Thank you for the comments you left. I’ve shared them with her.

 

Now I want to update the information I gave you last Sunday. 

 

The biopsy, which was done on Tuesday, revealed that she has stage four melanoma in the tumors on her spine and in her gall bladder and lungs. The tumor in her brain is not, the doctors said, cancerous as “yet.” 

 

Those who are in stage four melanoma have a 1 in 6 chance of living possibly five more years. 

 

There are two types of this melanoma. Being in type #1 can help a person live for those additional years. That’s because with type #1, there is a therapy medication that strengthens the immune system. 

 

There’s no medication or therapy to keep those with type #2 of stage four melanoma from dying early.

 

Elisa does not know yet, which type of stage 4 melanoma she has. 

 

FYI: I know little about cancer. So, I may not have heard correctly what Elisa told me. Moreover, I may not understand the implications. If I’ve said something here that you know is medically incorrect, please let me know.

 

This morning, Elisa called to tell me that her insurance company will not cover the medication that the doctors/surgeons at Huntsman Cancer Institute have had her on. Instead, last night she was administered a new medication. The side effects for her have been as follows: only one hour of sleep; hallucinations; constant itching. 

 

Clearly, Elisa is allergic to this new medication. The nurse practitioner is now trying to work with the insurance company to find a non-allergic medication it will cover. For now, Elisa has to stay on the one that’s giving her so many stressful side-effects.

 

Last year, two of my dearest friends died: Bob Kraske and Pat Lassonde. At the time, I blogged about how each had touched my life with goodness. In the past ten years of my life, 10 friends have died and 3 close relatives. So, the reality of aging is the narrowing down of those who have enriched our life with laughter and love.

 

This morning, lying in the doze before waking, I thought that I’ve always wanted to live to be 102. That would mean that I have 18 years left. And I thought, “If only I could give those 18 years to Eliza. In the beat of my heart, the blink of my eye, the throb of my love, I would do so.”

 

But I can’t because I’m not in control. Accepting that is truly a part of becoming fully human. So, once again, I come to you and ask for your healing thoughts. Prayers. Energy. Visualizations. 

 

At the deep center of Elisa's being, where she is most truly herself, dwells a wellspring of joy. I hope that joy will continue to enfold and imbue others. I hope Elisa will have five more years to enjoy being with Mike, her children, her extended family, and her multitude of friends. That is what I hope. 

 

But whatever happens, I find myself filled with a deep and abiding gratitude for the gift of her presence in my life. That she chose me as a mentor, then a friend, then a grandmother is a mysterious wonder. We simply never know where life will take us and who we will meet on the journey. I’ve met Elisa. 

 

Please do continue to hold Elisa up into the light of your own belief. Thank you. Peace. 

 

 

My "Grand-daughter" Needs Help

Hello to all of you who are reading these words. Since 2011, when I began to blog, you have supported me whenever I shared a health concern with you . . . and there have been many concerns.

Or so it seems to me. You have prayed for me in many different ways because each of you has your own Center of Oneness. And each of you calls that center by the name that best describes where you are on the circle of belief that connects us all.

Back in 2006 when Meniere’s Disease entered my life, a Minnesota friend said, “Dee, I think you have fourteen guardian angels watching over you. Somehow, no matter what, you always bounce back.” 

The truth is that I have even more angels now for when I’ve shared my health concerns with you, you’ve always been sympathetic, compassionate, thoughtful, empathetic, gracious angels. Always. 

Now I’m asking you to extend your great, good concern for others to Elisa Magagna, whom I met through blogging. She has become the daughter—or granddaughter (given our age)—I never had. Her four children call me Grandma Dee. Elisa and her family are an abiding blessing as I move through these final years of my life. 

Elisa is now at the Huntsman Cancer Institute in Salt Lake City. After several lengthy CAT and MRI scans over the past week, the doctors have discovered the following: 

·      An invasive tumor on her L2 and L3 vertebra in her lower back. That tumor is eating into the bones and causing pressure on the spinal column so that both her legs are now numb and walking has become difficult. The bone pain is horrific.

·      A second tumor on her spine.

·      Tumors on her gallbladder.

·      Tumors in her lungs.

·      A tumor in her brain.

The doctors think this is all caused by the metastasizing of the melanoma removed from her wrist two years ago. However, they won’t know for sure until they do a biopsy tomorrow.

Everything seems dire. However, I try to stay in the present moment and not let my mind race into future possibilities. For me, life is now one step; one moment; one day. Sufficient unto this day is information I now have.

Let me tell you a little about Elisa. She was 28 when we met in 2011; I was 75. Caught in the web of a troubled marriage, she got a divorce and became a single-parent, raising four children—who are now 10, 12, 16, and 18—on the minimum-wage job she found that would enable her to be at home when the children most needed her.

Time passed. She grew in the confidence that had evaporated during her first marriage. She met and married a man who gave her the love and support that now enriches her life. Mike, an exceptional human being . . . as is Elisa, is a thoughtful husband and a loving father. 

Now Elisa, who is 37, is involved in the fight of her life. I believe she has a plethora of angels, but she needs more. She needs you who have been such a support and comfort to me. 

I ask you to pray for her—that is to do whatever is comfortable for you to do when someone asks for your help. Pray; send healing thoughts; visualize; put her name on prayer lists at your church or community center. 

None of us knows what is best, but all of us know that the loving concern of others can bring healing of mind and heart, spirit and soul. And we hope and trust . . .  healing of body. 

Thank you. Peace.