I'd had almost none of that then.
Still haven't since my 62nd birthday in January. Which is also not uncommon for GBM. Many cases have people headed for the Egress on a fairly smooth path until near their end. I learned about that early when I researched the illness. I figured immediately I'd come up with my bucket list of what I'd want to do while I can. And I've chosen an interesting set of treatments that may push my survival up some.
However, I've run into some physical walls in the past few weeks. Boy, howdy, I've been tired. I'm not complaining about being weary after being up for a while. I've always liked naps. But I've had days where naps lasted a lot longer than awake time. And lack of appetite is making it hard for me to maintain weight and strength, as well.
So far, there's no particular evidence that the tumor has started to come back yet. Odds are it's a bit early for that. But my doc, an expert on this cancer, tells me that a high fatigue can be my new normal. Which means I'm looking for the medical equivalent of crutches, drugs that will boost my energy.
And I'm also trying to figure out what level of ambition makes any sense at all. What should I be aiming for? What will make me feel better or feel like I'm meeting a higher standard?
The last time I can recall running into such an unexpected personal wall was mostly psychological. And more than 40 long years ago. I was a college kid whose first-ever irredeemable romance had been squashed like a messy bug. (My fault, to be sure.)
My brain was damned near on hold. And one acquaintance gave me a copy of a spiritual book I'd never heard of: The Penguin Classic edition of "Tao Te Ching" by Lao Tzu.
The original was credited to an older contemporary of Confucius from about 2,400 years ago. The writing may actually be "only" 1,600 years old. The translation I got had been first published in 1963. Which seemed ancient to me in 1974.
Taoism (pronounced Dow-ism) has nothing much to do with romance but is a metaphilosophy about how to deal with all human problems, including governance. (Mr. Trump: This may be worth a read.) And I disagreed with plenty of it. But I liked what I took away as the broad structure:
The word "Tao" is generally translated as "the Way." Reality is tied universally and maybe even supernaturally to a moral and ethical flow. If I tried to figure out how to ride generally with the flow even like a surfboard on a tsunami maybe I'd be able to get to places I wanted to go better than if I fought against the flow? Worth a try.
I won't say Lao Tzu led me to a quick success, but he got me moving better than I had been for a while. And I've never lost my affection for the work. I've collected a series of translations and analyses through the years. But the first version I read remains my favorite.
What guidance might it offer to me now? I went looking for some quotes. Here's the start that hooked me forever:
"The way that can be spoken of is not the constant way; the name that can be named is not the constant name."
Meaning that any attempt to be totally specific about the transcendent Way will leave some of it out. OK, then.
"It is because he does not contend that no one in the empire is in a position to contend with him."
I truly remember that! Only competition leads to a loss. And each of us can choose whether or not to compete. I won't lose simply because someone else thinks I'm losing. That's worth me grabbing back onto.
"Now, to forsake compassion for courage, to forsake frugality for expansion, to forsake the rear for the lead, is sure to end in death."
Yes. I'm mortal for sure. But a focus on what kind of ambition makes sense might get me a legacy that doesn't simply end when I will.
"In the pursuit of learning one knows more every day; in the pursuit of the way one does less every day. One does less and less until one does nothing at all, and when one does nothing at all, there is nothing that is undone."
So a deep breath. And a quiet thought. And even a nap. Or two. I will do some things as I can. Until there is nothing that is undone.
Jeffrey Weiss writes the Religion News Service column "My Way to the Egress."