One Wild Year
Dear Friends,
Today marks the One Year anniversary of Chester's brain surgery. We have been spending the day looking back, remembering the details of this incredible and difficult year. We are also looking forward, beginning to weave the story of the next chapter in Chester's life.
One year ago today, about this time (3 in the afternoon), I sat in the waiting room of Alta Bates with Marilyn, Jaime and Xo. The four of us had been there all day, holding the tethers to Chester's life as he underwent a major operation to remove the large primary tumor near the motor cortex of his brain. It was a long day of waiting, as each of us sat and meditated, knowing full well that he may not survive the surgery. We also sat and waited for the diagnosis, for until they removed the tumor they could not tell us for sure what type and severity Chester was confronting. We all felt it as Chesters surgery came to a close and he began stirring awake (we would later find out that he woke up laughing, so happy to be alive!). I remember Dr.Tang coming down the hallway and telling us that the surgery was successful, but that it was a very large Glioblastoma Multiformae tumor and that Chester, at best, had a few months to go. The next day at Chester's bedside, Tang told us that he had removed some of the motor skills section of the left brain and that Chester would not walk again. I remember sitting with Chester as we heard this diagnosis, my hands on his right leg, feeling all the vital energy still streaming through his "paralyzed" side. I knew then that the doctors did not know who Chester was or what he was capable of, and feeling deep in Chester's bones the determination to reclaim and live as fully in his body as was possible. Chester's breath was deep and full (restored after surgery- the night before as I sat and read Walt Whitman with him, Chester's breath was less than 50%). Chester's humor and spirit were fierce and vibrant. As we sat in the noisy, chaotic Intensive Care ward, I remember dropping into the breath and feeling into the miracle of his survival, and that it was only just beginning. We thus began our journey into post-surgery rehabilitation, beginning an amazing year of "choosing life," Chester coming back home into his body with even more mindfulness, consciousness and life-affirming spirit than he had carried with him before surgery.
I've spent the past week reflecting on this year, on the sheer awe of finding ourselves alive and in good spirits as this year cycle completes, I have been very aware at the dedication Chester has made to the act of living. Deciding to have surgery was the first affirmation, surviving it the second. And each day that followed required a conscious decision to live and remain embodied. How easy it would have been to despair and not take that next step. What courage to stay embodied and awake while navigating the mysteries of living without some very vital brain tissue, and with an entire hemisphere of the body disrupted. What trust to allow friends to accompany the process and provide support and care. I sit in sheer awe of it, my body full of the year's experience and exhaustion, feeling proud to know a man like Chester and even prouder to have witnessed an entire year of fierce commitment and embodiment. I am aware that Chester must be mindful of each movement, each step and each word that he attempts to bring forth. And that this moment-to-moment mindfulness is a teacher for us all. The mysteries of our bodies run deep. We are both resilient and vulnerable beings. And every day we can choose to dedicate to living fully, breathing fully, giving and receiving care, surrenduring to the unknown and dancing in the miracle of it all. It hasn't been an easy year, but surely an awe-some one.
After a sushi feast with friends (how else to celebrate such a fishy year?), Chester and I are preparing to go to the pool. His head wound took eleven full months to heal, and so now finally submersion in water and all of its healing is available to him. This allows Chester a fuller exploration of what his body is now capable of, and his walking has much improved after only 6 sessions in the pool. I am looking forward to moving with him in the water, and know that the commitment to reclaiming and living fully in his flesh will continue into the coming year.
As we begin to prepare for Chester's homecoming to Missouri, I hold in my heart the teachings of the past year, and look forward to continuing to learn with Chester as he moves forward into the coming year.
Today marks the One Year anniversary of Chester's brain surgery. We have been spending the day looking back, remembering the details of this incredible and difficult year. We are also looking forward, beginning to weave the story of the next chapter in Chester's life.
One year ago today, about this time (3 in the afternoon), I sat in the waiting room of Alta Bates with Marilyn, Jaime and Xo. The four of us had been there all day, holding the tethers to Chester's life as he underwent a major operation to remove the large primary tumor near the motor cortex of his brain. It was a long day of waiting, as each of us sat and meditated, knowing full well that he may not survive the surgery. We also sat and waited for the diagnosis, for until they removed the tumor they could not tell us for sure what type and severity Chester was confronting. We all felt it as Chesters surgery came to a close and he began stirring awake (we would later find out that he woke up laughing, so happy to be alive!). I remember Dr.Tang coming down the hallway and telling us that the surgery was successful, but that it was a very large Glioblastoma Multiformae tumor and that Chester, at best, had a few months to go. The next day at Chester's bedside, Tang told us that he had removed some of the motor skills section of the left brain and that Chester would not walk again. I remember sitting with Chester as we heard this diagnosis, my hands on his right leg, feeling all the vital energy still streaming through his "paralyzed" side. I knew then that the doctors did not know who Chester was or what he was capable of, and feeling deep in Chester's bones the determination to reclaim and live as fully in his body as was possible. Chester's breath was deep and full (restored after surgery- the night before as I sat and read Walt Whitman with him, Chester's breath was less than 50%). Chester's humor and spirit were fierce and vibrant. As we sat in the noisy, chaotic Intensive Care ward, I remember dropping into the breath and feeling into the miracle of his survival, and that it was only just beginning. We thus began our journey into post-surgery rehabilitation, beginning an amazing year of "choosing life," Chester coming back home into his body with even more mindfulness, consciousness and life-affirming spirit than he had carried with him before surgery.
I've spent the past week reflecting on this year, on the sheer awe of finding ourselves alive and in good spirits as this year cycle completes, I have been very aware at the dedication Chester has made to the act of living. Deciding to have surgery was the first affirmation, surviving it the second. And each day that followed required a conscious decision to live and remain embodied. How easy it would have been to despair and not take that next step. What courage to stay embodied and awake while navigating the mysteries of living without some very vital brain tissue, and with an entire hemisphere of the body disrupted. What trust to allow friends to accompany the process and provide support and care. I sit in sheer awe of it, my body full of the year's experience and exhaustion, feeling proud to know a man like Chester and even prouder to have witnessed an entire year of fierce commitment and embodiment. I am aware that Chester must be mindful of each movement, each step and each word that he attempts to bring forth. And that this moment-to-moment mindfulness is a teacher for us all. The mysteries of our bodies run deep. We are both resilient and vulnerable beings. And every day we can choose to dedicate to living fully, breathing fully, giving and receiving care, surrenduring to the unknown and dancing in the miracle of it all. It hasn't been an easy year, but surely an awe-some one.
After a sushi feast with friends (how else to celebrate such a fishy year?), Chester and I are preparing to go to the pool. His head wound took eleven full months to heal, and so now finally submersion in water and all of its healing is available to him. This allows Chester a fuller exploration of what his body is now capable of, and his walking has much improved after only 6 sessions in the pool. I am looking forward to moving with him in the water, and know that the commitment to reclaiming and living fully in his flesh will continue into the coming year.
As we begin to prepare for Chester's homecoming to Missouri, I hold in my heart the teachings of the past year, and look forward to continuing to learn with Chester as he moves forward into the coming year.
