Journal Archive
The quieter entries — thoughts on treatment, healing, and the waiting in between.
October 27. I am feeling the music, the generosity, the friendliness, that was offered to us by a kind, thoughtful, dedicated, awesome, companion in this journey. A day of thinking about music, listening to music, and reflecting on the musical experience.
October 22. I feel very blessed to have had the opportunity to be in the operating room with Dr. Lei and his staff. They offered me the gift of seeing more clearly details of the world around me. I felt the presence of the Divine Physician guiding the hands of the medical team and blessing me with a successful surgery.
October 13. Yesterday, my boys and I prayed for our community, as we do every day; in particular, as it was Thanksgiving. Thank you for your gift of company in my journey.
October 8. Waiting. I have a new appreciation for waiting as a result of the cancer situation. To me, waiting is living right now. I like the company I am keeping when I am alone, waiting. I am breathing. I feel my pulse. I hear sounds and a little persistent buzzing, more evident in a silent space. Waiting helps me be.
October 1. I have been anticipating this month for some time, because it is the month when I need to travel for surgery. I will stay over and come back the next day. It will be a memorable 4 hrs+ train ride with my older son. It will be a time of renewal.
September 27. I asked myself why I write. Why line up my thoughts by using words? Feeling alone in this journey brings me a Mandelbrot Set of thoughts, that is, thoughts that from the distance seemed disorganized but that exhibit self-similar patterns at different scales. Thoughts as beautiful as nature.
September 15. I have been thinking about how have I changed as a result of the blessing on cancer in my life. I have changed because of life; I am older, my boys are older, the pandemic happened. It has been a memorable time, comparable with me youth in the music school and orchestra, and graduate school. Other times have been sad to remember.
September 7. Being a cancer patient affords me the opportunity to remember formative moments and important people in my life. I often naturally gravitate to the music school memories and I reflect on how many of my life experiences relate to the moments and people of my years with the sound of the violin.
September 1st. I have been tired. I had things to write and I had to wait until I could add space to my journal. I didn't realize that it was so limited and that there was a cost, but here I am. I had several consultations in the last few days and I have been feeling exhausted.
August 22. I am finally able to write about the first call after the diagnosis. After a few hours of being numb and in emotional and physical pain, I was able to write a phrase about what had happened to the only person in the world that I felt I could tell.
August 19. I have received many gifts. It is like a special birthday everyday. I am spoiled with the gifts of attention, prayers, thoughts, company, smiles, requests for me to smile, stories, nourishing food, photos, thoughts, music, words, compassion, empathy, support for my eye procedures, care, inclusion in plans, kindness to my boys and many more. So spoiled. So blessed.
It is Sunday, August 16. I am breathing and contemplating the moment. I feel some anxiety about a specialist consultation tomorrow, and a consultation with the oncologist at Princess Margaret on Tuesday morning.
My friend Shirley is back home from looking after her brother Gilbert, who suddenly became very ill during a business trip in a country away from his home. She had been away, bed side praying for her brother, attending to him, away from her son, away from home, living day to day, for about a year.
It is August 11. I am going to the hospital in about 7 hours. I am anxious.
My boys were 3 years-old and 14 years-old when I turned the page from everyday dad, to cancer patient dad. They have been sharing pain and suffering with me.
Today, I chatted with a friend who accompanied in my journey in a very important time in my life.
I am overwhelmed with blessings.
It's August 3, 2026. It is cloudy. My sons are away and I am a finding that my purpose in life is on vacation. I am missing getting annihilated in chess by my youngest boy and watching anime with my older boy.
How looking at the simplest things gave me peace.