Thanksgiving

Today will mark the end of my passivity. I’ve allowed myself to become passive and accepting of today and tomorrow. I’m going to give myself a different shot each day. I’m going to plan each day and those plans are going to be pro active. I’m going to rebuild this old body and attempt to remodel it into what it was meant to be. A fitting temple of the Holy Spirit. That is old catechism language, but I think language that befits my goals of today.

It’s a shame the way we treat Thanksgiving. I should really speak for myself, the way I treat Thanksgiving. Although, we share the feast with Canada, I like to think of it as particularly ours. It’s a feast made and fashioned for the needs of today. It was not founded in abundance, but rather in the poverty and hardships of the time. It seems sad if so many of us have been battered in ways we never thought possible. A security born from dedication and had work failed in delivering its promises. There are so many of us still unable to determine what hit us.

I’ll have to leave this blog to you individual experiences or I’ll be writing for days on end. I’m surrounded with reasons to be truly thankful. I’ll mention just a very few. My health care professionals have been incredibly helpful in my life. As our nation fights to fix a broken system, individuals within that system fight like super stars to bring a touch of love to all they serve. I’m thankful. My family and friends have never let me down. They have created a touchstone of comfort and warmth in which I am able to heal and grow.

Kris is a superstar. She awakes and goes to sleep each day spent. There is little left for herself after emptying every bit of goodness out for others. She is a model of wife, mother, child, spiritual being and just plain old fashioned goodness. It’s so good to see her recognized by all as one they would love to have as wife, mother, friend and companion. Her marvels are many and her goodness sublime.

Finally, I’m thankful for today and this moment as I remember and recall a life filled with gifts. I’m regretful, but find it less productive than love. I’m going to try and make this a love filled day for those around me. I’m going to try and make a difference by being different.

Hang in there.

Post Celebration

Those days come and go so fast. That moment of celebration with a modicum of success since cancer first into my life. I wanted a day to thank all who had made that day possible. It was a great day and all played a part in making it happen. Boy, so much to be thankful for and even more once it had come and gone.

No sooner had I made a firm resolution to become less of a burden than I fell flat on my face. It's been overwhelming to recall all that others have done for me. I couldn't begin to think of expecting them to hang on with me through another few years. I wanted to release them from the terrible burden giving so much of their lives to me. How could I continue you to allow them always to put me so high on their calendar of events. As I said above, no sooner had I made a resolution of less dependence than I found myself at Allenmore Hospital here in Tacoma. Several trips to the emergency room and one very intense visit to my specialist and tests galore, out comes the Gall Bladder. It was double in size and had infected a great deal of other parts of the intestine and stomach. However, it's all over, started on Monday and today is friday. I was home the first day and could have been out and about by Wednesday. Everything is under control and all is well.

Now, what do I do? How do I go about being less of a burden on others. I really don't know, but I honestly want to give it a try and become more of a giver than a taker. In all humility, I'll continue to say thank you, but more an more try to change my ways.

Most Beautiful Day

Most Beautiful Day

Only I can appreciate most fully all of the things done on my behalf over these last four years. I think everyone finally got what I wanted so desperately to communicate. Thank you for giving me four more years to enjoy you and my grand-children. We now had concrete proof that the doctors, medications, love, prayers and sacrifices of all had somehow worked. They impacted our everyday life in a way that brought us to our knees and we were witnesses of the work of the Holy Spirit. I don’t care of what religious or non-religious persuasion you may be. I don’t care that you are or are not having difficulties with your faith, but we together witnessed something very unique that busted our bubble as to having all the answers involved in life itself. Last night, I went to a lecture at Pacific Lutheran University given by Dom John Crossan. He is the fore-most recognized Jesus scholar in the world today. He has turned history about Jesus upside down. One of the items he touched upon, were the miracles. He spoke of the miracles with incredible simplicity. All were witnesses of unexplainable goodness. His best friend was so dead he smelled to high heaven and yet he still returned to life. I would not dare speak of miracle in my case. All I wished to do was to stop in a moment of time and re-invite my family and friends to revisit as witness what was now happening in my life. Four years ago we shared the news that I would be dead within a week and today the tests and all else seem to indicate my cancer is in remission.

Prior to my day of celebration I met with my two key experts, Drs. Vanbuskirk, and Cox. I saw Cox at 9 am. After a battle with my Gall Bladder from 2 am. I’ve never experienced more intense pain. At 7am, I refused to return to the emergency room, which would have been my third visit. All, rather traumatic for me. Again, at 7am I agreed to my patches being changed which were of no help in relieving my pain. I took 5 Oxycodins which gave me relief, but by that time I was an emotional wreck. Dr. Cox saw me immediately and spent most of the morning with me. He sent me for another scan, talked about a Gastroenterologist, and wanted me to have another test called a Haida, that exam fell through the cracks when it required me to remove my opium patches for in excess of eight plus hours. Dr. Cox thought that to be totally unacceptable. This afternoon I called Dr. Hofstroph’s office to move the process forward.

I’m sorry for the side-tracks which I blame on my medications. Tara and her family were in town, Jessie was not there four years ago, but she is no less a contributor to my physical turn around. Her healing gifts are priceless and like all the others, it is impossible to be in their presence without having your morale rise sky-high. Tim and Debi provided the wine for toasting. Jim dug deep down and came up with a great recipe that was devoured and actually spoke up and said special occasion. As I did, four years ago, I asked all to listen, so as best I could tell them how much I loved them and how thankful I was to have them love me so deeply. How, is it possible for one person to be so gifted. I feel so selfish in having so much love while so many others are so starved by the lack of love in their lives. Some are so starved that their illness just destroys them, when they could so easily be turned around by a kind gesture or a spoonful of food given by a loving hand. I’ve got to stop here before I get lost again. I’m writing this to extend myself out of that room to the so may others who so unselfishly loved me in their thoughts, prayers and good works. Pray that I don’t spoil the gifts given and not desperately try to find ways to pay back the remainder of my days. I just talked with one of my doctors and she’s sending me to a surgeon. It looks like the gall bladder is coming out.

With all my love.
Frank Kabisch

Celebration

They Told You, you were dead and so was the evidence.
You are at this moment alive, and so the evidence validates.
Let’s have a Celebration and we’ll all take stock in another day.

Yes, as promised I started to write this after my visits with Drs. Vanbuskirk and consultation with Dr. Hastroph. I did write and unlike any blog I have written in four years I ripped it into shreds, Cox. You’ll never know what I wrote nor will I probably never remember. Oh by the way, I have now had an additional elaborate test for gall bladder (my second) and a third one called a Hilda scheduled for another few weeks. With Hilda, Dr. Cox cautiously enters the field of nuclear medicine keeping his care of me always on the cutting edge. Every one, I have mentioned this test to, have never heard of it.

I will now try again on Mike’s computer, mine crashed. The appointments should have been filmed. Each assigned a special role and insight into one of the most dramatic tough encounters played out. I’ll be all over the place trying to communicate my experience so as usual, please bear with me, as Dr. Cox said, what we are discussing is profound with heavyweight consequences. Not to be taken lightly. A couple of things, co-in-sided with my appointment with Dr. Cox. They were out of the script writing department of Hollywood itself. In one of my past blogs, you’ll find an entry with regards my emergency room visit for a gallstone attack. Well, at 2 am I had the severest pain I have ever experienced in the right section of my entire chest area and around to my back. For my own reasons, I struggled with the pain and personal screams until early morning. After several years of sleeping on the floor at the foot of my bed, we convinced Kris to go to another room where she keeps a speaker system that you monitor a baby with. I have remained in my hospital bed for the over-all good of the activities that have been going on within our home these last few years. We have been extremely blessed with a home that can accommodate all the visitors we have had through the years.

At this moment my in laws, Tim and Karen are repaining our garage after painting our children’s recreation area. My sister in law was here for over a month this summer alone during which time she brought back our deck like new and re worked and guided out landscape people to give us a home that continues to bring me great comfort. I hope that all who have visited and stayed with us have experience some of the welcome afforded by a Benedictine or Franciscan in the name of Jesus. It’s the kind of hospitality that brings more comfort to the giver than the receiver. I ramble, ramble, ramble, but at this moment I ask not for forgiveness. Let me get you lost again in my ramblings. I thank you from the bottom of my heart in allowing me to have someone to share my life with. Without you, my reader, I would be a little less of a person, alone in my own wanderings. Please God, allow me some comfort in talking (writing) with my friends. In an incredibly selfish way, allow me to take immense satisfaction in those who for one moment or one seconded responded to my writings. Pat has never ceased to bring me the comfort that can only come from another who not only listens but also provided feedback of hat listening. At this moment it is so critical to my personal well being. Any kind of isolation that is not chosen for oneself is the greatest hell on earth. This blog provided to me early on by Jason and Bill Bettyas has been an intro-venous valve bringing life giving health to the isolation of my hospital bed. Thank you.

Kris and my brother in law begged me to call an ambulance and go to the hospital. Kris had been there with me before and she was in tremendous fear. I wanted to hold out to reach Dr. Cox. It was a decision that Dr. Cox pretty much equated to being absolutely stupid. I’m sure he felt it had no merit and probably felt it to be counter- productive to a cure. Although he vocalized that we were playing with an awfully big pot, my life. By the time I arrived at the office and the nurse took my vitals prior to my lab work, I was a complete basket case in both body and soul. I was devastated by my lack of emotional control and my breakdown. My heroes don’t allow that to happen. I don’t consider that strange given the short history of pain which required the changing of my body patches and taking 5 Oxycodins. The physical pain was under control, but the emotions were a shambles. Dr. Cox dropped everything and elongated my meeting until after 11 am when I went to the lab for a long series of blood draws. We spent a great deal of time discussing my depression and at one point almost forgetting the gall bladder. I went to the office with my fresh new MRI and Dexa wanting to declare the death-knoll of my enemy cancer against the good judgment of both Dr. Cox and Kris. I wanted a celebration for this moment of time declaring the cancer dead and triumph over it.

By Our, I meant my entire medical team and care givers along with all my friends and the parishioners of St. Leo’s who remember me at every single Mass and bulletin for the last four years. I wanted to thank my Pastor who promised St. Leo’s to be there for Kris, my family and friends to find comfort in each other . We, in addition to the unbelievable approval of the latest anti cancer pill by the FAA merely months prior to my collapse. At that time the evidence was 100% against me. My collapse in the street by my office at Ft. Lewis and my fight to get up and instruct my classes for that morning, became the first sign of being bed ridden for the next few years. The evidence was concrete in my bone marrow test, my MRI and Dr. Cox and his staff’s diagnosis. It was dramatic and imparted to me with a sledge hammer right between the eyes as Dr. Cox with no room for error told me man to man that I would be dead within the week. I took this announcement like a man. Dr. Cox is my man and the most important professional and friend in my life, both then and always. I called all my family together and discussed the finality of my no cure Multi Myeloma Phases II and under the guidance of Dr. Vanbuskirk, my Palliative Care Doctor, I began to cover all the detail one needs to cover in preparation for ceasing to live. Well, with all of the above lurking within my mind, I wanted a cease fire. I wanted a celebration of this one moment in time, when all the evidence pointed to remission (although first declared in ’07) and with my doctors concurring I wanted a celebration and I think that’s what I got the ok for.

Out of the meeting on Monday and Tuesday, came a hard fought blessing on my celebration. After both doctors beat me to a pulp to understand that my cancer, my myelomia will never really go away, it is incurable. It will always be lurking there as every blood cell withdrawl' s performed and that there is no question – Myeloma is incurable. However, we also fought through so many other cancers, Iukemias, HIV’s, polios that although so deathly have become illnesses that people live a normal life with and with the strength of so many other spirits and systems within their bodies live almost completely normal, extended and good lives. So many die not of their primary attacker, but at times from other places that many other health and normal lives, live through. On Tuesday, I had my blood tests withdrawn and I believe they again say I’m in remission. On Wednesday with a prescription for a gallstone screening I went to the lab for that screening and the prelims show gallstones. However, Dr. Cox has prescribed a further more powerful exam called a HIDA which is evidentally from the internet literature the big daddy of all the scans. It is not taken lightly because of the nuclear aspect of it. It will scan the little intestine, the bile flow, the gall bladder and a few other things I can’t recall presently. Could it possibly rain on my parade, honestly – that has just entered my minde as I’ve given thought to this. Thank God for my photography classes and other things that keep me more fruitfully involved. Where, am I, in the need of prayer as yesterday, so today. Kris believes this test to be sort of independent of everything else. I’ll keep you posted. I’m going to have lunch and go outside for a snooze, to read, to look at our newly painted garage door, and above all else to remember and pray for you. I'll leave you along at this point, because I can write future books about the role of my priesthood with Jesus, my marriage with Kris and everything both entail in my life. I said books, but mean volumes and perhaps a library.

The Holy Spirit will finish the work yet to be done as HE HAS ALREADY WRITTEN IN EACH OF OUR Hearts THE WORK ALREADY DONE. God bless us all.

Appointments This Week

Stop, Don’t Move, Don’t read another line until you go back to ground zero. This blog cannot be understood until you recall the date written and you get inside my head for that day. There are few, if any, edits. I wanted to write it as I saw the world that day through my eyes, drugged or not drugged. If I saw the world blue, I wanted to catch a blue world. If my head were full of opium and I neither felt no pain nor the reality in which I lived. I don’t know how many times you’ve heard me scream out from the depths of my soul, My God, who am I. At times I felt a tremendous understanding of those around me no longer tuned in with reason. As I was, so were they in another world. For at least a year plus into this past, you and others have heard me falter as I attempted to speak of a third world which I have been forced to inhabit. The world brought about by my drugs, of dreams and nightmares. Most of you who are close to me live in the world of your realities are validated by yourself, relatives and friends. I have at least two. One I have a great deal of questions about, Who am I?, and the other which is as real as the first. It occurs in my sleep, I can’t tell you when in that sleep, but as I awaken I capture some of it, always saying thank God for getting me off the hook. Now, that world also inhabits my naps, so I live new episodes which have no relationship to any others. Please, as uncomfortable as it may be, listen to us. Give us some one to share our discomfort. What if it’s from my pain medications, with little doubt, do I cut myself back. At first that would seem to be a brave jesture, but false. I buy in 100% to the medical belief today that pain for pains sake is close to idiotic. Controlling pain contributes to healing. It gives the body an opportunity to stop, allow the irritant calm down and the body do its own thing.

Where am I ad where am I going? I’m asking my family, friends and readers to go back to ’06 or ’04 and realize that’s my world of that day. That’s what I saw, felt or hurt at that time through my eyes at that moment for better or worse. My writing at that moment, correct or incorrect was the world as I attempted to reflect it to others. Please, be patient with me. Within, the next few days, my appointments with my specialist may or may not turn my world completely upside down. Today, the Saturday before those meetings my mind is polarized and its impossible for me to grasp what may or may not come down the pike. Although, others will be as they have been through all these years been deeply affected so will they now. God gave me a few years that at first seemed out of the question, and now here we go again.

As I tried to point out as I started, as you read, remember today is Saturday, and there is so much I will not be privy to until Wednesday. It’s important for me to ask Tara to publish this on Sunday so that you might share a bit of the anxiety I now face and that you yourselves share. Everyday, I learn more about the suffering of others, but it is so intertwined with the glory of who they are and how they live and share their lives with others.

If Wed is a day of beauty and glory, it will be because of you and don’t you believe anything other than that. One of my heroes was a scientist priest of the 1920’s and ‘30s who married science and Faith and provided us with a vision of our last days only matched by the beautiful picture of St. John’s gospel. The gospels all tell us there is work to be done and asked of us that we do it in union with the beauty and wonder of those gospels. I hope I have ot confused you, but if I have it has only been because I am confused. I must rely upon my Faith. Anything more or less is a batter of poppy-cock and is senseless.

God, please bless us all and allow us to be about our Father’s business as you have defined our roles within that mission.

How do I catch this moment?

How do I catch this moment?

I stopped just lying here and said, this must be captured and recorded. I feel like a new man at this moment and it captures what it means by not giving up. This morning and yesterday my morale was as low as it has been since I first started this journey in October of ’05. It left me so defeated because it was accompanied by the inability of the body to respond. My legs appeared not to hold up like they had before and again for the first time I had an element of fear. Fear of what, I’m not sure, but I was so cold I thought to myself I don’t want to die cold, it’s a miserable feeling. I thought trying to come back again was just too costly and I’d be unable to do it.

The above is not what I’m trying to capture. Rather, I’m attempting 1,000% turn about. I don’t know what to tell you but I am so at peace and feel I’ve had one of the best days I years. Kris has just been unceasing with regards a number of things. She refuses to accept me not trying to move and get up and about. She keeps going the extra mile here or there in order to keep my limbs moving and my spirits up. Today, was such a day with a by-product of feeling well and willing to try again tomorrow? Today, she went out real early to get a whole lot of nuisance stuff done, so she could come back in time to register for a photography class I’ve wanted to take. She got me up and put on my hand-sewn stockings, which are impossible to do for myself. Helped me to get dressed and off we went. Soon we were over at the Lakewood Center where they among other things appeal to the older population. We entered a rather smelly building filled with people of warmth, welcome and a tremendous gift of making you feel like, they wanted you. Immediately there were people in your face who made the remembrance of pain no longer exist and a desire to be a part again of something that takes you out of yourself. At this moment instead of feeling like I did last night I’m feeling excited to meet the instructor and other participants. My desire to brag and share with others is alive and aflame with a warmth that refuses to allow that cold to move in and tae over. When we got back home Kris brought my favorite chair to sit in the sun where I was able to sit in the sun and enjoy the remainder of the day. It’s good to be alive and its great to have a certain quality of life for today. The day is almost over and it has been a good day despite the fact that yesterday I thought would no longer be possible. As Jessie keeps shouting at us, keep hope alive.

Today is Tues and Thurs I start my first photography class, so tomorrow I’ll be busy putting all my camera stuff together and electing a few pictures to use as samples of where I’m at. It will be fun just doing that.

Please remember this coming Friday. I’ve pushed very hard for an MRI and had it done last Monday. My General Practioner has it in her hand right now and on Friday we’ll share the results. The techs that did it were short of esthatic about how I cooperated and how well it turned out. I guess that doesn’t happen too often. No matter, if the results prove I’m going down hill, I’ll need to suck it up and fall back upon my Christian tradition where I’ll find strength in Jesus who has been there and done that. Then again, if the result is positive, I’ll be very anxious to begin a program built upon hard data rather than mere “I think” or the equivalent of the same. In no way do I mean to disparage any of my care givers who have been no short of miracle workers, but I know that they and the insurance carriers would want nothing less than that for themselves and their family members. What, I hope may be true is that they save money and can do much more for those in the future. My programs of care may be cheaper because they know what they are doing. Again, no matter please keep me in your thoughts and prayers so that I might be less of a burden on others than I do now. I might even improve my photo work that you’d like me to do a photo for you. I would be so happy if it pleased you. God bless us all as we continue our journey. We are so happy to anticipate and look forward to the entire Munholland visit at the end of this month. It’s going to be the best and the kids won’t recognize me because I’ve also grown so much.

Advice from Laura

Advice from Laura for the coming months:

Since you’re not a snowbird, dress warm and plan each day to include thought of first snow in Brooklyn New York.

If you stay in bed today, you may not have it in you to get out of it tomorrow.

If you only drank your water as your beer you’d be closer to the cure.

Others can be less ill, but more in need. Pray for them.

How have you made your caregivers life easier than it is because of you.

Will you waste any part of today, as you did, yesterday.

There is much goodness in the rain, how do you find it.

Your mind is hard to be depressed when its full of the many joys you’ve been given.

Doesn’t it scare you just a little not to appreciate more fully those who surround you.

Shouldn’t you weep more deeply for those without healthcare insurance.

What does your faith tell you about those who have left you.

The names you have learned to spell and recall are the wonders of your life.

And finally, Laura would remind you that your families wounds were so much deeper than your own, pray for them and remember them.

Deserves an Entry

What a log entry to develop, look at all the 9’s. On second thought, I’ll save it for the track. I should, but I won’t call Tim and beg him and his family join me at the track. Monty loves it there. He actually picks a numbered horse and is able to ride it free until others take it from him. Boy! Don’t he look great in that saddle. I’d bet on him any day. Let’s see, he is 4 now and tells you that’s a turning point when a kid knows a lot about a lot of things. However, those delicate but strong hands and arms just don’t make it. No bet. Another day, another track, but I’ll always be willing to bet on him. Then there is that huge slide which exhausts him as he goes and goes and goes in order to come down and down and down. He loves it so much that the screams are at fever pitch. Those rides and a few others have his attention for all of the day. Our minds are on the fourth and that #8 along with the long shot $9, The bet requires a trip to the teller’s window, but the results save you a trip back. We don’t bet big nor do we win big. We have no need of ever going to the IRA window to fill out forms and spend our mony. Their instructions are so precise, you’d be proud of their public service. They seldom get it wrong. Enough of this track stuff or now, I’ll have to reread it to understand how I got here.

What I thought was maybe I’d take a shot at those pictures. You see them throughout my walls. You just can’t miss them. They jump right off the wall at you in every picture. They’re all mine with very few exceptions. In one way or another I’ve brought them to some kind of completion that has brought me, if only me to a calm and enjoyable venture into the unknown until finished. Don’t laugh, they all have meaning for me. Some deep and some not at all, but they touch me. I wish I could catch your eyes or hear your words as you see or don’t see them at home or somewhere else. Here, in my room and not the other rooms throughout the house. I greet you with hugs, handshakes and a myriad of other warmths that almost moisten the air in my room. It comes to me even now, how many greetings I have had within the restrictions of this room, my prison and place of reflection these past almost four years . Family, friends, strangers, new faces, friends of him and her. Some I’ve never met before and a whole bunch I hope would come back again and again. Oh, for heaven’s sake, lets get back to why we are here. Yes it’s the pictures and other things No it’s not the pictures, its your critique of the pictures or my meaning in the drawings, the water colors, portraits or sea sides. One of the richest for me is the one of Mike by the side of the Gulf in Jamaica. It has taken me so long but maybe not so long to see what I see. Mike has his baseball hat askew on top of his head. Who would believe that’s his arm on his hip as he looks out past the water to the opposite shroe if the bay which we visited just a short while ago. Mike in his water color is transparent as he is transparent. Not in the original picture but in my version of it on the textured board which I enjoy beneath the brush. His armless raged t-shirt yells out at the poverty of the island as he contemplates his place in this place. He doesn’t verbalize it. He contemplates it. He was late getting there that morning. I forget now why we were in two separate places at different parts of the island. He was late and I was angry and be both came via different transportation, I to be thrown off by myself trying to figure out if I were at the right place and with more than a few doubts as to if he would ever come. The thought went on and on. Never making much sense, but by the time showed I was real angry that he wasn’t. Worth mentioning, but unable to catch in film was one

Break time – I need a snooze.

I’m back many days later – let me pick up with crucifix you see either or the table next to my bed. A crucifix is the wooden cross with the body affixed to it. The body is dramatic in showing the wounds, lashes and piercing with spear, It can allude if you meditate upon it to all it bore witness to. You can remember the Mary’s kneling before it. Recalling the soldiers rolling dice for his garments is’t hard to do, The shoulders are bruised and crushed from the long final journey with upon his shoulders, Others picked it up as it brought him to the ground. There is nothing of beauty in it. It is merely dramatic. And early in live may have been used to scare and dramatize. Now, it is a remembering. You stop in your busyness and take an appraisal of prices paid, enemies identified and friends who went the distance. It is critical in identifying those who didn’t go the distance. Most especially Peter and the others he cherished and whom you would have found proud to have withstood the pressure right up to the end.

It Is very significant to me because it was gift from Sr. Dorothea prior to my departure for the seminary. My fist 8 years of grammar school were spent under the tutelege of the Sisters of Mercy. Dorothea, was one of those Sisters at Sacre Heart, which was that school. In those days they wore a long black habit that reached out to the ground. They wore a white coif around their head and extended below their bosom. A picture may help depict it better. I think the habit in its totality had some hurt connected with it. They wore a black belt, about 2-3 inches high with the crucifix tied to a string was inserted within the belt. It has been with me and upon my walls and before my face since 1957 and my first trip to the seminary. That is almost 50 years. I have not always been aware of its presence nor have I allowed it to lead me to prayer as frewuently as one would hope.
It’s there on my wall now, and I would hope it would be there until the end.

Jerry Seinfeld

Directly above my head my favorite clown. Jerry Seinsfeld. Perhaps it was Time Magazine that provided the original for me. I entered the printing with zeal and just ot all that saddened by the outcome. As you might guess, I love the red. It jumps off the art paper and depticts for me an individual just alive with some deep thinking, colorful laughter and a real grasp on the issues of our time. How many times have I seen ALL episodes? It's hard to tell but I bet more than one was a good answer. I never got through one without laughter. I always wished I was still preaching because I would have stolen most of them and intertwined them into every homily I delivered. I always that it such a shame because I thought I would have done a great job in rewriting and delivery.

My son in law, Jim Munholland was kind enough once to buy tickets upfront at the Paramount. It was his standup at its very best. I didn’t want anyone to cough because I couldn’t stand to miss a word or a line. He was at his best and it was terribly bad for me to keep my pants dry. The tears flowed without ceasing and it turned out to be wonderful evening. Those moments I’ll never forget and I am able to have done many times, relive the night. I still go bck to the reruns and never see the same thing Each times it’s a level or two below the last. Incredible. He of course, reminds me of the others. All of them came together each week into the one Seinfeld. The other cast have not risen to the same level. Together, they were one and their feeding off each other allowed to identify taboos or problems and bring meaning for me. I think that’s why I think I did a fair enough job that it always relives for me, the greatness of the man. It’s my most immediate prayer that he’ll continue in life some levl of achievement reached in the show. I really just don’t want to hear of a marriage broken up, a child gone astray, a wife who can’t take it any longer. I just want to hear he’s happy or that he’s making a contribution or perhaps even, their coming together again and that coming together is nothing like the ones before.

Some pictures:
On My Wall
Each Containing a Piece of Me

Sister Mary with me after my orination in Richmond, Virginia
One of the most important person in my life.

Failure – So Much For Keeping Up

You’d think I’d died with the length of time between blogs. Guess what? I didn’t. At least it doesn’t seem like I did. Moment maybe!

What has happened since last we spoke? I really don’t know since I don’t have the last entry before my nose. Was it Dexter Rawling’s birth, if not I will later point to Tara’s blog. If you go there, you’ll find it filled with so many wonders of real life, so do that. Perhaps it was one of my emergency room visits, if you missed them you really did miss something. I used to say, and still do, if you want to raise money, invite those to have it to spend 24 hours there. I covered all the hours during those 24 hours. What a rat hole. Similar to the old movies of insane asylums. Any similarity to executive offices is non existent. If you ain’t ill – you will be. You’ve got to be non human to be untouched. An emergency room can be defined as all the Tarantino movies wrapped into a 45 moment trailer.

Perhaps you missed the fact that although my cancer got the crap knocked out of me, as it has moved to that innocuous category of being contained, stable, then everything is now right with the world. I raise it not as a secretive trap to regain sympathy if I had ever sought it to start with. Please, God forbid. But maybe, just to suggest to and for others, that being bed ridden, lonely, no longer able to fend for oneself or the million and other pains in the ass are just that. Recently I had some gut pains, not unlike many others that brought me to my knees despite my back pain patches that operate 24/7 and are opium (again, remember the movies!) My personal Richter scale was buzzing at a record breaker 9. My doctors are so proud; I never understood that simple scan that went from one to ten. It’s simple as say at 9 you have no protection from the tears rolling down the cheeks. Where the heck am I going with this? Oh yeah, now I remember, I don’t frequently remember. Please, I beg a favor. Don’t ever again in your lifetime laugh at one who tries, but can’t remember. Ost especially when they themselves suggest its funny. THEY LIE AS A TOOL to hide their pain which may very well be higher than that blasted 9. Well, the gut pains simply (every time I get something now it seems to be simple – like almost being blind before the SIMPLE operation? of taking them both out. Oh, that’s nothing because they tell you there is something behind the right eye that might explosively become something they can’t do anything about. How will I know, well he says to me, YOU’LL KNOW. Anyone out there able to help – what does that mean? However, on second thought don’t tell me, I wouldn’t be big and strong. Then, it’s the to be expected, because its caused by the medication – the neuropathy among other things. I usually can’t remember it, now I just can’t spell it. It’s more fun than anything – it works on the hands. Legs and feet. You could probably remember it better if you put it to song. It ums the extremities, it hurts like hell at times, it tingles like now, it makes you go lighter on the keyboard so you more frequently go too light on the keys (you want a good laugh, look at my stuff without the a’s because my left little finger can no longer take the hit, it makes you think too much (it sometimes leads to depression), it makes you feel at times like someone is sticking you with pins and it hurts but you just can’t keep up with them to make them stop, but more than anything it scares you because you’ve been using those arms more than ever since the cancer. Oh, I would sure hate to lose their use or their strength. It makes you want to say you’re sorry to anyone who can’t make out what you’re trying to say because one of the things you do remember, was that there was a time when it was okay, you had it right and you didn’t have to apologize. I’m going to be mean, and instead of just deleting this (page filler) stuff myself, I’m going to be nasty and put it in the hands of my editor, Tara (Note from Tara: I am leaving the "filler"and content as is becuase it is what it is, honest, true.)

One of the real problems with cancer was that at first it wanted to demand your life, however, it has come to be that the longer you hang around the slower or more exacting the cost. It becomes the loss of contacts and maybe even friendships. You’ve gotta give credit where its due. The health delivery systems, through their clinics are beginning to recognize these problems. Let’s see if I can remember. They call them “the quality of life issues”. They’re like the old-age and dementia issues. “Hey”! Wait a minute; I’m really going overboard with this page filler stuff. Tim just asked me if I’d like to take a ride and I’m going to jump real quickly at that and send this off to Tara. Tara, what do you say – just because it’s been so long, do we want to blog this? (Note from Tara - Yes.) I’m going to send it to Tara without reading it again – go out with Tim and when I come back – read it and see what she says.

With no hesitation and with complete meaning – love you all. Let’s keep me as well as the blog alive in the sense of Quality of Life. I should have seen the Child’s movie about cooking and laughter instead of Division 9 and Besterds. I am getting old. Please God – body – maybe yes, but mind never.

A little bit of everything

Spent a good hour and a half with Dr. VanBuskirk a little over a month ago. The most encouraging meeting of my life. Kris sat at the kid’s place with Monty while Debi and Tim joined me for the visit. Near the end of an hour and a half+ visit I asked him for his evaluation of my progress. Without exaggeration and to the best of my ability I’ll try to quickly try to paraphrase his response...

Although I cannot speak for Dr. Cox it is no secret that he feels he has met the enemy head on and has already won that battle. The drugs did what he hoped he would have them do, and although with my cancer they can’t say cured I guess I’m like the alcoholic - he cannot see any reason for that to change. Who can ask for anything more?

Speaking for himself, Dr. Vanbuskirk said we have traveled miles down a very long road to complete health and he believes the progress to be substantial and again sees little or no barriers to that progress continuing to be better and better. He could not be more pleased by my attitude, my concrete willingness to take things on and improved with them. Even right now he is going to move my meetings with him from one to two or three months based on how quickly I have grasped onto things and continue to work within those structures. He could not be more pleased other than a complete cure here and now. Who can ask for anything more.

While in the office, one of the nurses left the lab to come over and tell me how wonderful the CORPUS article was and how it has helped her. I was so overwhelmed by the morning I came home and slept for several hours.

In other news...As for the pictures above, the first couple were taken from an April Munholland visit – me hanging out with the grandkids (Monty, Kellan and Zoe) and the other picture is my new look from barber Tim.

Jessie is finishing up on law school finals while Mike continues to help the community - check out the below link for his recent accomplishment: http://www.realchangenews.org/index.php/site/archives/2091/

Visit me on Facebook and Paxo.

2nd Installment of CORPUS REPORTS Article

My Cancer

Yes, it’s mine. Very unique to me! For me, I’ll never forget the dramatics of my diagnosis. We were in the specialist’s office (we = 7+) and he was tying to determine if he would accept me as a patient. Everyone was talking at the same time. Thinking back the doctor must have been thinking, “Do I really want this walking dead man”? I was standing and in severe pain for amongst everything else I had five broken vertebrae and a bone lesion on my hip. When he said yes and we shook hands, an unbelievable relief and calm took over my body and soul. Yes, cancer but no longer alone. The physical concerns which I had born alone were now to be shared with a competent professional I liked very much. My previous doctor struck out. I left with this relief even thou I was given only six days. I don’t know how others react nor can I advise them, but for me my faith was paramount. During this period I was “to die” no less than three times requiring I be brought back.

The death part quickly turned to the faith part. Once I came to grips with this I’ve sort of had the upper hand on death. I could not fear it as one who did not believe. Oh yes, no head under the blanket, but a calling of myself to terms that death was the only way. There was to be a next life through an agony in the garden. These were not theological, biblical nor philosophical matters but very real concrete concerns.

Don’t wait to be loved by others but aggressively learn to love all those brought into your life. Not what others can do for me, but what can I do for others. Don’t complain about your family, doctors, nurses and health care workers for their impersonal training, but be totally personal with them. They get sick, have ill parents, fight at home, have financial issues, and teenage children. They may be afraid to get close to you but have no fear in embracing them and their concerns. Consider it a mortal sin to think of them as working only for money. This thinking makes you sick inside. Rather, hope they will miss you and cry at your funeral because you have gone out of their life. Even if it requires acting a little stupid put a smile on their face.

My cancer thus far has been helped a great deal by getting a handle on the practical. My wife Kris was incredibly helpful as we struggled through all the insurance papers and requests for information. Without help with these matters there would be little time for dying while everything else consumed every living moment. Make absolutely sure you never rely upon barrack’s lawyers for advice. YOU MUST GO TO THE SOURCE AND THE HIGHEST LEVEL OF THAT SOURCE. Take this from one who was responsible for an outside contractor to process well over a million in claims each fiscal period.

Orientation to services and goods must be internalized. What are the needs of a body that has gone from 190 lbs to 115 require? I used to be 6”1’ and now find myself at 5”7’. Just a short time ago I took no pills and could hang in there and now have been mostly bedridden for three years. Going to the bathroom and taking a shower become central to your every day life. Yet there are many things that can help. My electric wheelchair is not a luxury it’s freedom.

Get control of your life. Set goals and objectives for yourself within your own restrictions. Make them creative, fun and exciting. Share what you have with everyone you can for as long as you can. Be strong about running your life and do not let others attempt to do it for you and your family. Will you hide your cancer from others or will you tell the world? I chose to tell the world. Not as a secret way of gaining sympathy but being a source of grace for others so through their prayers and concern for you they also may profitably share in the journey. Don’t wear them out or ever leave them depressed but rather uplifted and encouraged about their own world.
Discover gifts you didn’t know you had or simply never used.

Learn how to lighten the burden of your caregivers. They have a heavy burden and its you. How do you lift their burden? Prior to cancer “I” did it and now “they” must do it. Live in wonder meant of how do they do it? Learn to assess every call for help as to its worthiness or necessity weighed against those of the caregivers never did it. How can I now “expect” others to do it for me? Learn the difference between saying ‘thank you” and communicating “thank you”. The wrong one can hurt and be empty.

Use your pen or computer to write your journal. Don’t edit your work record your life. If you stop, pick up when you remember you have forgotten. Never – never ever pass another without recognition of their humanity. Set an example. LISTEN, LISTEN to the pain of the world and the people of the world and your own may become just a little less biting.

There is so much to learn from others. Allow your education to continue. Find out and continue to discover, who are you? Are you the same person if depressed? If you are full of medication, other’s blood, in the midst of chemo and need further adjustment of your medications, who are you?

Pray always.

CORPUS REPORTS INTERNATIONAL MARRIED PRIESTS - 1st Installment

Multiple Myeloma Phase II

What the hell is that? Come on doc tell me in English. I can take it. Well! “I’d give you six days to live.” Later he said he would have changed it to that evening. My bones were being eaten by the cancer and soon they would be like “paper”.

In my superficial readings of the last few years concerning church leadership, I became inspired by how well our Cardinals handled the last years of their lives. Especially their illness and in many cases their cancer. They embraced it as Christians in a very humanly way. They left us a legacy of having died as Christians. I was angry with them for so many things, but in this one area I gave them very high grades. Models worthy of imitation. Maybe, I could do the same? Quite a goal! What a relief, no tension as to liberal or conservative, just follow Jesus and die like a Christian following in His footsteps. All my life I’ve claimed the name Christian and now the opportunity to live like one in these last days of my life. Wow! God is so very good to me.

I think there has been only one time that we as a family cried together. It was within that six-day window I had been allowed. I asked my kids, Tara, Mike and Tim along with their spouses, Jim, Debi and Jessie along with Kris to gather around the dining room table. It was a spontaneous and sacred thing. My “kids” are in their 30’s. I just wanted to tell them with all my heart and soul that I loved them and would always be with them. It was a gift of a life time. This month their love will have sustained me into its fourth year with my cancer. So much so that my physical fitness program this afternoon called for harnessing me and lowering me into the swimming pool. I did well.

What a wonderful journey this has been. Although the temptation remains about changing the ending. It seems like the more I’m given, the more I’m tempted to ask for. If that were granted perhaps I couldn’t love as much or recognize God in so much. I don’t always have the courage to seek the transformation of faith, hope and charity into the experience of the same where “eye has not seen nor ear heard”.

At this point, amidst the horror of cancer there are some glimmers of hope. I have a few things, which bring a few smiles. We were heartbroken recently when my best friends, Bill and Sue learned that Sue had a very deadly breast cancer. They have been heroic in their support of me. Although her chemo is taking place in a different hospital. There she met a former nurse of mine. Anette had nothing but good things to say about Kris (and me). Although, it was I who had the cancer, it was her that was hurting more. Her husband was returning to Iraq and she would be left again with her kids to silently suffer her separation. She fed my body intravenously and we had a shot at caring for her by sincerely caring enough to listen. She has been one of so many. See my blog. We have also had positive feedback with regards to other programs we have participated in. We made them better and we all got so much more out of the programs. My physical fitness guy, Brian told us today that Dr. Cox has flooded him with cancer patients because of us. That will be good for all involved. For many months the Eucharist entered our home with Phil and Kitty. I fought for my electric wheelchair, which has allowed me great freedom from my bed. That program is now open to other patient’s along with other programs we have recommended. What a joy. The entire valet parking program has been revamped because of my going to the top and being a “rat fink” for the right reason, patient care. The sick are actually now assisted with no bull crap any more about fear of lawsuits. The valets all look better and seem to enjoy their jobs even more. Is it merely a job to help the sick and invalid? I think I’ve heard quite a few confessions during the journey. I don’t think you always need to be Catholic or know that’s what you are doing, do you? PLEASE don’t break my bubble and give me some gobble gook of a theological answer. I was in ecstasy the night my pastor lagged behind at my bedside as the others left. He knelt and asked me for my blessing. Wow! God is good and our priesthood a gift. We had been having a healthy knock down pick them up fight about the married priesthood. Dear God please don’t allow me to become or to sound like an egomaniac, but there are so many aspects of our Christianity still open to us and perhaps the greatest moments. His priesthood still affects others in love. Sue and I will be walking side by side. Pray for her.

I hope (and do) believe that Kris and I have never been as close. I laugh within myself when they speak of her as my caregiver. Well yes, caregiver on one level is an appropriate designation, but you got to be kidding. The love and care she has allowed to flow out of her translates into life, rich life for me. She has continued to unravel year after year the fullness of life, which is love, rich life for me. It’s not the gray hair that tells me so, but the unselfishness of every single thing she does for me. It’s not always fun to be bed ridden and dependent for almost everything that remains normal to others. However, there are those precious lighter moments, which make life bearable and holy. e.g. Nothing is funnier than the fights that take place in our kitchen each morning. Laura (my therapeutic cat) goes down to help Kris with my coffee. They each have their way of doing this. Laura likes to jump on the counter and assist while Kris gets the water bottle to see that she doesn’t. It ends with a stomach rub and cold coffee.

I know that my judgment by God will require a great deal of forgiveness for the evil I have allowed in my relationships of love and my failures. The Commandments will certainly have their day in court and it will not be the proudest review for me, but I have a great deal of faith and hope for how I will be treated. I will be judged within the fairest of all systems by the most compassionate of all who have ever walked this earth. I do not fear those aspects of my life that I have paid little attention to nor have yet had empathy for the hurt I have personally caused. I will not dwell here nor will I linger in areas that lack the graces that may soon be mine. (I started this at 3:14 and it is now 6:10).

I’m going to stop – the words are becoming shallow and without any substance – let me save you from me. I’ll return later.

CELEBRATION

20 YEARS OF SUPPORT

Several years ago the Seattle, Portland, Tacoma and Olympia married priests gathered together at my home to recognize our support of one another. Many of us had come from other cities but a good number were from the Seattle Archdiocese. Most were married. Both religious and secular. The priesthood was the commonality we shared along with our spouses. I would take it as a special inspiration that we started our day together with the Eucharist remembering those who had already died from our group. The Eucharist was unique in that it fulfilled a desire on our part to recognize the special link we maintain among us presently with the source of our priesthood Jesus Christ. A good number of us have already passed on to the life they spent teaching and motivating others to believe in. Since that day so many others have also left us. In most instances we again banded together in recognition of a life deserving of celebration. Tears were shed, prayers said, hugs exchanged, spouses and families supported and their lives reflected upon enabling us to continue in their footsteps, which had walked in so many uniquely different directions. Where was the priesthood of the second half of the 20^th century to be found? In the homes of our neighbors, the positions of support and service within our community. Their jobs were teachers, civil employees, artists and professionals whose commonality lay beneath the surface of their skin within the realms of their souls and spirits. As husbands and fathers, children and brothers in their own families. and as success and failures to those left behind. In all cases having been called by Jesus to change the face of the earth. In life we had touched and embraced each other as friends. Soon, I will once again share life with them and within that community of saints I will speak well of those I leave behind. I’m getting too preachy. too somber, too cross my hands, kneel down and look holy. Not enough fun, excitement, joy and laughter. Cancer has come with an equal share of those things, as did our lives and ministries.

The Joyful Side of Cancer

Blasphemy you say. I agree. I thread on a slippery slope. With the havoc this horrible disease causes within the individual, the family, the community and nation as a whole how can we speak of joy. During that first six days I was given to survive I especially thought there was something sacrilegious in such talk. Now, after three years with some first hand experience of the rage which so frequently visits my body can I dare be so disrespectful to others bearing such horrible scars. I mean no disrespect to spouses, families, children or friends who experience neither joy nor happiness within the ugliness of cancer’s domain. You would have to be psycho not to do all within your power to seek escape from this monstrous world. However, isn’t there something out there that says His grace can be sufficient? Careful my lad! You have yet to be fully tested and yet how many times already have there been some legitimate questions of performance? I’d ask you at this point to spend some time with me at my blog (http://96ryerson.blogspot.com) where you’ll find some of those incidents of joy and laughter. I encourage you to continue to bring joy and happiness to those you find in the real life you live today. I hope you might more frequently find and bring Jesus into our midst. I ask for your encouragement to complete my book that I have halfway finished. As the disciples before us we need to record God’s goodness and love. It’s truly hard to believe.

A quick recollection of some of the no fun aspects of the past few years. Asking some of those I love to back off because I was being smothered and my doctor was telling me to take control of my life. There were no other options if I were to make progress. I was slowly becoming the bionic man – eyes were being replaced – cataracts out and problems with my retina still being addressed. Medications were constantly challenging me to answer the question – who am I? My urologist – wait just a minute – there are still things that are sacred and personal. Lots of humility. My feet, hands have become relatively inoperable and constantly painful. In the arena of the personal I am now one of the few guys wearing $500. Stockings. My oh my what good looking legs. I would be giving the Bette Grabels of the past a run for their money. I’m tempted to think at times my grand kids love me because I give them rides on my electric wheel chair. I’m fast and dangerous, but it’s the closest I come to driving these days. I froze my butt off last year at Halloween waiting for the kids to come by. Along with the goodies I take pictures and love it. The kids do also. My “port” operation was one of the best things to happen to me. I don’t know how they sustained the needles in the “old” days. I will not dwell on the one doctor who did some diagnostic work – the assistant kept saying “no doctor, that’s your left and not your right”. My God she was right. It was disaster Ville. I’m so glad we were not talking amputation. I could go on, but I’m already in trouble with Dave Gawlick for exceeding my given boundaries. It’s not just my mouth that runneth over.

Yesterday I received two emails. The one in the am told me of a Marriott friend diagnosed with kidney cancer and sent home to a hospice set up from Georgetown. Last night the second email said that he was greeted at the door with the words that Granny had just died. Isn’t it wonderful that we are left with the power of our prayers? To those who have prayed for me – thank you.

If I had died within six days I would not have known Zoe, Monty or Laura, my grandkids and therapeutic cat nor would you have had the opportunity to show me all the kindness you have.

Go In Peace

Deo Gratias.

Frank Kabisch

Email fkabisch@comcast.net