Brain Bleed

Day four in the hospital. Day four of chemotherapy. Day four of staring at gray walls until my brain starts bleeding out of my ears.

Aaaand, that's me off my lunch.

It's not a pretty image, is it?

I tend to be an optimist most of the time. I usually feel that things will work out okay, that people are mostly good, that a positive attitude and hard work will triumph after all is said and done.

Then I read the news. I spend time on social media. I pay attention to what people around me are doing and saying.

And I despair.

I'm shocked by the lack of empathy I see around me. The callousness with which we treat one another. The ugliness of our collective fears spewing out in noxious word vomit or worse.

Excuse me! I do NOT know where that came from.

I've alluded to some political leanings in this blog from time to time but haven't really dug into the topic fully... mostly because that isn't what I meant for this to be. With that said, I have strong opinions. Some are solidly grounded in fact. Some are much more about how I feel. I try to differentiate between those two, and yet it's a tricky wicket. Most of us aren't very good at honest self-assessment. I know I'm not.

So, what to do? I'm never going to be perfectly informed. If I decide to speak or take action, the likelihood is that I'll make a lot of mistakes. Is it better to stay silent? Is it better to turn my head and look away from the multiple train wrecks that are taking place in excruciating slow-motion around me? Is it really worth the effort to try?

When I teach, one of the things I try to do in the classroom is to encourage everyone involved to be fully engaged while simultaneously doing everything possible to care for and nurture one another. One of the first questions I'll typically ask is, "What is the difference between being nice and being kind?"

The answers vary, but most often boil down to a couple of ideas. Nice is superficial, self-serving, most often done to maintain the status quo... that dull and deadly stagnation of growth.

Kind is deeper. More genuine. Filled with care and love and excitement and fascination and...

Gentleness.

I want to make sure I'm not being misunderstood. Kind is not comfortable. It's not easy, nor does it come without sacrifice. It does tend to be simple and straightforward most of the time, at least once I manage to extract my own ego from the process.

Kind doesn't go for the easy, comforting lie. Kind stays the course and doesn't back off when things get difficult or awkward. Kind listens without judgment, engages without deliberate harm, and loves without recompense.

Kind also maintains boundaries.

That last one is tough for me. I don't feel like boundaries are something I picked up very well in my youth. That maintaining of boundaries is what allows kindness to continue unchecked, strangely enough. Because for all of the kindness I may want to project outward, if I'm not learning to be kind to myself, I fall apart. I end up hurting the people I want the most to uphold. I violate trust. I break and destroy as surely as anyone or anything I might be fighting against.

I don't know that I have a real point here. This, in its own way, is a word vomit too, isn't it? I'm frustrated at the lack of kindness out there, so I rage against it. That seems, to put it mildly, moronic.

I think the reason I seethe and despair and spew forth venom is because I know how often I choose not to be kind myself, as hard as I might try. I see my own failings and end up fighting them as much as anyone else with whom I might be disagreeing.

It's a negative feedback loop out of which it feels impossible to break.

But then there are these moments. Flashes of insight, shared vision, heartrendingly gorgeous blips of connection that expose the deepest parts of our shameful selves and reveal nothing but beauty.

I live for them.

I'm lucky. Because I teach acting, this experience isn't something I get to accidentally stumble upon from time to time. I actively spend each class searching for those glimmers (and sometimes explosions) of union with another human being.

One of the misconceptions about kindness I hear the most is that it's weakness. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Some of the kindest people I know are total badasses when it comes to standing up against evil. Heroes, all of them.

Again, what's the point here? Hell if I know.

Story of my life.

Mostly it's just me processing my pain.

I want the world to be kinder. I want people to be more loving. I yearn to understand others and be understood in return.

In order to avoid hypocrisy, I guess that means that I have to be kinder, more loving, more understanding.

Dammit.

You may have come here looking for an update on my condition, or to read something uplifting, or maybe even to be amused. I'm not sure I have much to give when it comes to those last two, at least not today. But I can give you a recap of my hospital adventures to date.

I'm four days in and still surviving. I have amazing nurses, wonderful friends, incredible family. My white blood cell count is slowly dropping, as is my absolute neutrophil count. That's supposed to happen, by the way. Over the next few days, they'll go down to zero. No defenses whatsoever.

Want to see some pictures? Of course you do!

Day one.

Go-a and Tigah, gifts from my lovely niece, here to watch
over my recovery.

The infamous board that shows my counts day by day.

Day two.

Day three.

Day four.

Pictures of hearth and home to buoy me up.

For now, the main thing I face is boredom. I get up and exercise and shower and try to eat (with pretty good success, so far). I read and write and watch and listen. I talk to nurses and techs and dietitians and physical therapists and social workers and doctors. I soak in every message that's sent my way via phone, social media, texts, Marco Polo or email. Sorry if I don't always respond to them, but I promise I ALWAYS relish them.

Which brings me to the real point of this post. Come on, you didn't actually think I'd leave you hanging, did you?

I'm going through one of the most difficult things I've ever faced, and throughout this experience, I've been able to see first hand how kind and generous people can be. Cards, gift baskets, thoughtful acts of service, kind words, time spent visiting... it's all been overwhelming in its positivity.

My sisters-in-law put together a GoFundMe campaign that initially embarrassed me, then shocked me, then broke me down into big ol' puddle of emotional goo. People have donated so much, and it's been so needed. I can't fully take in the amount of love that's been coming our way.

So even while I'm confronted with evidence of malfeasance and misanthropy, I'm also provided with a salve to that burning heartache. The kindness of individuals, filling up this vessel until it overflows.

A completely different kind of brain bleed. A good one. And one that I'll never forget.

 I like this image of the brain a LOT more. Don't you?

------------------------------

Coming soon: an immersive, 3-D experience where we explore Ben's brain and find that it's mostly a vast wasteland of empty desert.

Next post