In a message dated 7/5/04 2:21:32 PM Eastern Daylight Time, PIDanzig@AOL.COM 
writes:


> 
> 

> The Poison I.V. Papers:   Six
> 
> [This concerns my Doctor’s fortuitous discovery in January, 2004, of cancer 
> cells and my
> struggle with this shocking, condition. Due to the twin exigencies of 
> accuracy and recuperation,
> there is an editorial delay of several weeks.  As of July 5,  2004, I am 
> alive and resting at home.
> If you are missing any of this series,  please request them.    Phillip 
> Danzig]
> 
> FIGHTING A BIG BATTLE
> 
> After surviving my big battle with the poisons of chemo, I returned home to 
> my bachelor
> apartment.  It was quiet after the noisy routine of the hospital.  A 
> Registered Nurse visited to take
> my ‘vital signs,’ and to determine whether I needed a Home Health Aid.  I 
> was not keen on
> having a man or woman following me about, making sure I took my medications, 
> 
> or, showered
> properly.  However, my middle son, up from Florida, saw the situation more 
> clearly than I, and
> insisted that I agree.  So for the next three weeks I was kept to a 
> schedule, 
> ate a reasonable
> breakfast and enjoyed some simple companionship.  My son also went through 
> some historic
> collections of typewriters, broken telephone answering machines, papers and 
> boxes,  and we
> began to throw out detritus and debris.
> 
> Later, my eldest son, resident in Israel, visited for a precious week, and 
> helped me sort out my
> numerous medications [for Crohns’s and for the chemo] made pointed 
> suggestions regarding what
> I should eat, how I could amuse myself [with comedy films] and expressed his 
> 
> deep concern.  We
> went through piles of books and when I was strong enough, took the refuse to 
> 
> the Strand Used
> Book Store and sold a batch for $43.00.    Somehow, clearing out 
> long-standing stagnant piles in
> dusty corners in my apartment felt good, as though I was metaphorically 
> cleaning out the
> malignant cells in my body.
> 
> I had recently visited with my youngest son, so we stayed in close touch by 
> e-mail, and planned a
> visit during the summer.  Some families are torn apart by stress and danger, 
> 
> but we were drawing
> closer, Thank G-d.   On days when I felt too weary to eat, I bestirred 
> myself 
> on account of my
> children and grandchildren.
> 
> Unique among the creatures of this world, mankind has free will, a sense of 
> humor and knowledge
> of our mortality.   We answer the question:  “How would you behave if you 
> knew you were to
> die, or the earth would be destroyed, in two weeks ?” in several different 
> ways.   Aside from
> making strenuous efforts to upset that prediction, I think many of us would 
> simply go on with life
> as per usual.  After all, we all have always known that we have had a ‘Life 
> Clock’ somewhere,
> ticking away.
> 
> The only difference for those of us surviving cancer, or other potentially 
> deadly diseases, is, we
> can HEAR our clocks ticking.   This changes everything; and nothing.
> 
> One change was the concern, support and sympathy I was now receiving from so 
> 
> many.  Friends
> from long ago reappeared.   Members of my congregation whom I knew well, 
> slightly or, not at
> all, telephoned or sent me kind e-mails.  Two knowledgeable members of my 
> congregation spoke
> with me three or four times each week, and helped explain what my doctor was 
> 
> saying, or asked
> pertinent questions.  I thereby learned a lot, and felt I was developing 
> more 
> understanding and,
> thereby, control.
> 
> I was amazed to find out just how many people, or their close relatives, 
> had, 
> happily, survived
> some form of cancer.   And it seemed that every second person knew somebody 
> who was being
> treated by Dr. Bruckner.   There are styles of approaching a cancer patient, 
> 
> I learned.  Some
> regaled me with their own tales or horror stories of  treatments that 
> worked, 
> or, failed.  Some
> simply offered sympathy, and then happily changed the subject to something ‘
> out in the real
> world.’   Others asked probing questions and offered advice.   A few 
> questioned why I was out in
> Brooklyn, a tedious trip for me each week, and for them.    Each style has 
> merit, but when one or
> another made me uncomfortable, I simply begged off.     I  realized that I 
> had to protect my own
> psyche.
> 
> The first few week home, I remained indoors, depending on my Home Health Aid 
> 
> for breakfast,
> helping with medications and shopping.  But as I grew stronger, I began to 
> resume aspects of my
> former life.   By one of those quirks, called Fate, Serendipity, Kismet, 
> Karma or, Bashert, I had
> run two workshops in Mosaic Tile Art in Manhattan, for a group called, “The 
> Creative Center for
> Women Living with Cancer.”  Some of these ladies were totally ‘cured,’ were 
> 
> back out into the
> ‘real world,’ with powerful, positives attitudes.  One or two seemed weak 
> and distracted.  One
> elderly woman was continuously weepy.   I have directed several workshops, 
> in 
> New Jersey,
> Manhattan, Crown Heights and South Africa, and found these courageous women 
> among my
> most interested ‘students.’ 
> 
> The two Directors of the Center were themselves ‘survivors,’ so I now let 
> them know of my
> changed situation:  they invited me to visit them as soon as I could make 
> it. 
> On entering the
> studio the next week, both women approached me with opened arms and one 
> said, 
> “Welcome ! 
> Now you are one of us !”
> 
> It is hard to describe my feelings on hearing these words.  I felt warmed 
> and 
> comfortable, on the
> one hand, but scared and horrified on the other.    These professional 
> colleagues had only my best
> interests at heart, of course, but the cold reality of what they said was 
> difficult.  It removed any
> lingering hopes that I was living a night mare, that one day I would awaken 
> and find all this gone, 
> my life simple, as before.  Inexplicably, I felt like Mia Farrow’s character 
> 
> in ‘Rosemary's Baby,’
> when she is finally, happily, reunited with her strange, Satanic offspring, 
> but discovers the
> enormity of what she is facing.
> 
> In fact, the support, encouragement and validation which my friends at the 
> Center have given is
> among the most useful and empowering I have received.  I do not feel as 
> alone 
> as I had previously
> and I only marvel at the twist of Fate, Serendipity, Kismet, Karma or, 
> Bashert that originally
> brought me to the Center.
>