Saturday, May 17, 2025

     I can listen to my phone messages or read a garbled AI report of the message. The urologist leaves a phone message about the problematic pathology report. I read the AI report, and then listened to the message, two different stories. The gist is suspicious cells in my urine. Need a minor surgery.   I am resistant, no I don’t want to do this. I respond, I want a face to face meeting with the urologist to review options and make plans.  No more phone messages. He says OK, and the meeting is set for next Friday.

     I am agitated.  I am suspicious of the gold standard treatments. They usually involve painful uncomfortable body experiences for me. I now want the just enough treatments, nothing fancy or painful. I am making a list to prepare for next week’s meetings with the oncologist and with the urologist.

    And of course, I still have a life to live outside of cancer.  I sit meditation at Brown Bag Zen with friends and then tell stories about medical waiting rooms, and double vision and my new glasses.

   When I spent 3 months in retreat at Tassajara I experienced how my mind keeps making up stories, endless interpretations of living. We are story creating animals. I learned we are bigger than our stories, and our stories are necessary artifacts of life. I need stories and I want to see beyond my stories.