Coming home

I cried on the freeway a bit, not much. My situation is much more painful in relation to other people than it is in relation to myself. I had the thought on retreat, Dying Is Like a Thousand [Unwanted] Divorces.

Padmatara made an announcement at the retreat. I wasn't there so don't know exactly what she said, but people were just friendly to me, and no one asked me about the PET scan, which is exactly what I needed. Friendliness and kindness are the best. Really, I was surrounded by cool and loving people. I am so grateful for that.

I hope to talk to Renee the social worker in South SF tomorrow about how to ask questions of my doctors. She told me a year or so ago that she gets the full story from doctors whereas their patients often don't. I thought I didn't believe her, or didn't think it applied to my doctors, but something stuck with me because I remember it vividly now and want her advice at this juncture.

That story I read recently, The Making of a Peaceful Death, in which the dad is given chemotherapy because the doctor wants him to participate in a clinical trial, and the brother wants him to keep up the fighting spirit. It causes him a great deal of suffering, does not prolong his life, and he dies in the hospital completely wrecked and confused by drugs. My fear of natural death pales in comparison to my fear of this kind of death. On the other hand, what if chemotherapy could prolong my life for a year? It seems so unlikely. I need more info.

I have a busy week with Paramananda here, Jeff coming tomorrow, and Paulette coming Friday. These people are among those I love the most, and yet, it feels like too much.