Ah, the end of the year. Time for comforting, oddball, humorous, enumeration and commentary on twelve month’s worth of human endeavor. Been a strange and busy year here on earth, under the watchful eye of Santa and his elven spies determining who is “good” and who is not.
This year, we (that is, “we” as society—although it’s difficult to see a single “society” in a social structure that ranges from gleeful murder of relatives for sport in the impoverished Muslim Middle East to massive investment in the structure of subatomic particles in wealthy Europe, although the shocking racial disparities plaguing the U.S. revealed by recent reporting regarding murder and incarceration of unarmed civilians on the streets should give us some pause) asked Questions—big questions, maybe the biggest and most important ever asked. Do comets, billions of year-old remnants of the formation of the solar system, carry the chemistry of life? Can we, technically, make our way to Mars, most likely sister planet to earth in terms of potential for supporting or having supported life? What the hell is Pluto, a planet-ish object at the outer edge of the solar system (seems like something with the potential for a Star Trek/Star Wars plot involving a fake planet watching over the colony seeded on the third stone from the sun). Such questions are good for those of us with serious individual problems, like terminal illness. It gives us some perspective for our life and death. If we’ve left a fingerprint on things, it means we don’t “die” when our body does. Our contributions continue, we’re part of a human race moving forward. We’re more than the mass of carbon and energy comprising our corpus.
But let’s start at the small end of things. This week has been a strange one here in Cancer Land (trademark, copyright). I spent Monday having a chemotherapy infusion. Felt ok afterward—a good sign, since I really like to stay out of the hospital as much as possible. My red blood cell count was nominally low, so the docs and nurses had me back on Thursday for a couple units of whole blood. Which, for some reason, collapsed the copacetic comfort I’d been feeling all week. Thursday night I spent nauseous and vomiting. Friday I felt like hell. The nurse arrived Friday evening to sort out access to my circulatory system, and made some suggestions for improving my physical comfort. Finally Friday night I got some good sleep, and today, Saturday, I’m feeling better. Should be able to eat and drink today, important functions for a declining physiology.
At the start of this year, I didn’t expect to live to see the end of it. So it’s a tribute to the medical system that bought me another holiday season (at what I’m sure was an extravagant cost financially and technologically). For all the hassle, pain, drugs, and emotional turmoil, I’m still glad to be here. So that’s a plus. A little more time to watch my kids grow up, do a little writing, get some cut paper art pieces done (I’m working on a nice one as we “speak”). In other words, a little more life before things close out when the cancer finally overcomes the best medical responses available.
So, back to the big picture. Of course, it only took about 15 minutes for someone to spot a “large monastery-like building” on the surface of the comet when the photos started to come back (http://au.ibtimes.com/articles/575052/20141206/rosetta-comet-67p-alien-building-ufo-enthusiast.htm). Personally, it seems like an odd place to locate a monastery, but not a whole hell of a lot odder (more odd?) than the montane highlands of Tibet, which are ripe (rife?) with monasteries. According to the LA Times article about the Pluto probe (http://www.latimes.com/science/sciencenow/la-sci-sn-pluto-new-horizons-hibernation-nasa-20141205-story.html) the resolution of its cameras will allow things like monasteries to be imaged. Which is good. Now we can tell if quirky religious institutions are universal or not. Seems like an important question, no?
Or at least an interesting one. A final note regarding things here on earth. I was reminded today by good friends visiting Miami to kick off the holidays that a Cuban seafood place called Malaga, located near the intersection of 8th and 8th (740 SW 8th Street, I believe) has been excellent every time I’ve been there. The Sangria is fresh and tart, and they’ll bring the snapper to your table for approval before frying it for you with fragrant spices. Of course, the last time I was there personally was in…probably…oh, say, 1985. But a quick check of the reviews under “Cuban Seafood” in local papers and web sites suggest that their standards have not slipped.
This coming week, Cathy, Molly and Jesse converge on Atlanta for Colin’s graduation from Georgia Tech. Beth and Maggie will be coming out from California to baby sit me, with initial assistance from Jesse who will hang around a couple extra days due to his back-breaking work and school schedule. Personally, I’ll have my butt parked in my hospital style bed, doing some internet shopping, reading and writing, art work, etc. Have a great kick-off to the holidays, everyone. Family, friends, food, drink and ritual—those are the truly important things in life. Take it from someone who’s learning the hard way. I love you all. Talk to you next week!
Oh yeah. PS: Live 'em while you got 'em. Because they are NOT forever. Far from being useless, day-to-day celebration is good for the soul. And orchestration of such celebration is a critically important component of the holidays in which we ground much of our yearly investment of time, money, energy, humor, and love. So rock on all. It's that time of year again!
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