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Recovery, homecoming, and Gordon Lightfoot's "Your Love's Return."

5/15/2019

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Home! Home! Home!

I get to return home this Saturday!  After being in Toronto for surgery and treatments for three months, I can finally return to Nova Scotia.  Recovery is slow but progressing.  I can walk well with my cane.  The results of the femoral nerve MRI proved unhelpful to the neurologist – however, he said that the fact I am improving suggests that the nerve was compressed and will recover in several months.  All my tubes are gone at last.  My urologist surgeon is pleased with how I am doing and will continue to follow me as I go forward.

I am back in NS for only two weeks before my next big adventure.  Andrew and I will be taking 12 weeks to drive across Canada, camping with our beloved little trailer.  When we get to Vancouver, we will leave on an Alaska/Yukon cruise-tour.  Afterwards, we drive all the way back.  I so long for a break from all my strivings, during which I can breathe in the beauty of my glorious country.  And just plain recover.

For the first time in nine years, I will not be at the Canadian Cancer Society’s Relay for Life.  I have been a top fundraiser in my area for several years. Ironically, this is the year in which I have required the CCS’s resources the most.  Staying at the Halifax and Toronto cancer Lodges for extended periods has truly opened my eyes to the needs met by Relay funds.  Please, everyone, donate to Relay – you can never know when you or your loved ones will need CCS help.

Where will I be instead?  I will be at the National Healthcare Leader’s Conference in…guess where?...Toronto!  Yes, I come all the way back, to serve as a patient advocate as part of my duties on the NHLC planning committee.  I spoke at this conference last year. I shocked and devastated those healthcare leaders with my story of medical wrongdoing, as per The Cancer Olympics and all the wrong since then.  I expect that some in that audience will be surprised to see me alive.

Slowly, slowly, my strength and energy returns.  I begin to glimpse a future, and I am touched by gladness even as I am staggered by all I have been through.  My song choice is therefore “Your Love’s Return,” from 1970, by the euphonious Gordon Lightfoot.  The song’s lyrics are the voice of an errant lover, coaxing the woman he left behind to take him back.  But I choose to hear in the touching lyrics and gorgeous melody the voice of health returning to a ravaged body, enjoining that body to trust in recovery, and to allow in feelings of celebration.  

Readers should know that if you click on a song title in my blog, you will be directed to a YouTube which will play that song.  I encourage you to listen to this song, and to let the sheer beauty of his voice and his message wash over you.

Come to the door my pretty one
Put on your rings and precious things
Hide all your tears as best you can
Try to recall what used to be

Roses are waiting for dewdrops to fall
Climbing your windows and walls
Bells in steeple are ringing, singing
Listen to them talk about your love's return

Let me come in my pretty one
And try to undo what I have done
For I must be forgiven now
I will not lose what I have won

Roses are waiting for dewdrops to fall
Climbing your windows and walls
Leaves in the garden are falling, calling
Listen to them talk about your love's return

Open the door my pretty one
Wake from your sleep and take me home
Open your eyes and look my way
I cannot leave your love alone

Roses are waiting for dewdrops to fall
Climbing your windows and walls
Bells in steeple are ringing, singing
Listen to them talk about your love's return

Your love’s return

 
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Slow surgical recovery and Bruce Cockburn's "One Day I Walk."

5/3/2019

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Some of you will have seen the two-page spread about me in the Halifax Chronicle Herald.  The interview details my astonishing past, and the online version has two videos about my medical error story, one short and one long.  I was pleased with the piece, because it brings readers of The Cancer Olympics up to date with my ongoing struggles, and because it brings attention to the shortcomings in our healthcare system. 
 
Of course, I am following the story of Marilyn Inez Rudderham, whose tearful FB post regarding a similar diagnostic delay has triggered a firestorm of support, and yielded her national attention and a meeting with the premier.  How powerful social media is!  If only I had it back in the day!  I hope to meet her one day.
 
Me? I continue.  Each day, I go to Toronto General Hospital to the HBOT clinic.  Two hours are spent watching CNN on the monotube TV screen. Each day, I either sleep in the chamber or watch agog as America melts down.  Some days, sleeping makes no difference – things are just as crazed when I wake up as when I went to sleep. 
 
I try to catch the shuttle home, and then eat the hospital food (literally driven over from PMH hospital) dinner they give me. Sometimes I have errands that drag me through Toronto’s subways.  Periodically, I have patient advocacy phone calls to make.  By evening, the pain of my leg is often so bad all I can do is lie down and not move.  Netflix and Crave have become beloved companions.
 
But today holds promise for progress!  Today, I hope to lose my one remaining catheter. O joy!  My surgeon is pleased with my healing overall and thinks I shall be ready to fly. We will see how my inner apparatus works, after being offline for 15 months!  But I digress – many hours ago, I had an MRI (at 4:30 in the morning) to determine the site of my femoral nerve damage.  So very slowly, medical answers will be garnered, and hopefully progress made.
 
I get by on CBD oil and Lyrica (a nerve medication), but those sometimes are not enough.  I use extra-strength Advil to help with those crushing breakthroughs. I am helped significantly by weekend visits with family and friends.  It is so therapeutic to be in a home setting instead of an institution.  Often, homesickness creeps in.  I imagine the beautiful spring in the verdant Annapolis Valley, while see the grey skyscrapers and listen to the shrieking sirens of downtown Toronto. Only about three more weeks to go.
 
Today’s song is a one for someone like me, who has been on many hard pathways, and one who longs for home.  Bruce Cockburn wrote “One day I Walk,” for his album High Winds White Sky from 1971.  It has been covered by many, but his version captures an irony, whimsy, and plaintiveness behind the journey, as well as nascent stirrings of hope for a final refuge. 
 
Oh I have been a beggar
And shall be one again
And few the ones with help to lend
Within the world of men


One day I walk in flowers
One day I walk on stones
Today I walk in hours
One day I shall be home

I have sat on the street corner
And watched the bootheels shine
And cried out glad and cried out sad
With every voice but mine


One day I walk in flowers
One day I walk on stones
Today I walk in hours
One day I shall be home


One day I shall be home



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    Robin McGee: psychologist, author,
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