One More Retro Post

Felipe in Lourdes.

 

( This is the last post that I have found in my notes and want to get it out to you.)

Go Tell It On the Mountain!

I am working on this at 4:09 AM Thursday May 24th with the fervent hope that Caminoheads blog will be repaired and be repatriated.  It is somewhere out there caught between a rock and a hard place patiently waiting to be released back to us.  Not having it has become an important lesson for me currently.

But life goes on despite the daily glitches.  We will be back in business soon and stronger than ever.  And equally importantly the unpacking from Camp Lourdes continues.  A major puzzle piece appeared to me yesterday at the hospital that I tripped over on my daily camino.  It appeared so obvious because of new found abilities on my part to see it that I brought there. 

I learned at Lourdes.  I learned about myself at Lourdes.  I am a new Felipe who sees his own situation in new light.  We live with ourselves so closely we rarely have a chance at a perspective that is telling.  

Someone asked My Rebecca in the last few days whether I saw any miracles there at Camp Lourdes.  Well, no it didn’t happen quite like that.  I didn’t see anyone with a “throw down their crutches” moment.  And that can be disconcerting if that is our only definition of a miracle, our only measure but consider: but that doesn’t mean that our inner lives weren’t changed.  And maybe those changes are not apparent til we return to our homes and communities and use these as a place to find  measure.  We can only see our new selves when comparing to the space our old self left behind.

That is what happened to me at the hospital yesterday when I stumbled over something that had been there for a while but I didn’t see it for what it was.  Let me explain.  Chemotherapy patients have a port where the liquid treatments can enter our bodies in a clean easy manner.  It is basically a small titanium gizmo that lies under the skin and it has access to the blood stream.  So at each treatment a small needle is inserted through the skin and into to gizmo so the treatment can be administered that day.  It is really an amazing innovation.  So this is sort of a permanent situation where on a different day the same port is there for access of more treatment through a new needle.  It stays in place covered by the protective human skin with it’s natural healing ability.

So my port was put in just shy of five years ago and I am so much at home with it that I don’t give it much of a second thought anymore.  But here is what is happening, the situation is worn out.  My skin in that particular place is not able to keep up with the demands over my time.  OK, but why?  Because that is longer than the vast majority of people get chemo except for iron men like Felipe. I see that the doctors and nurses are not used to this situation of having to give me a replacement in a new spot and therefore I am seeing my situation in a new light.  THE MIRACLE IS ALREADY HAPPENING!  I have had the blessing to be still here time after time to be treated by my medical team over this extraordinary time period.  Felipe the Ironman is still here on his feet to be the gosh darn amazing positive influence that he is.  THAT IS ALREADY A GOSH DARN MIRACLE!  

Graditudes in buckets that I am here and have great things to do with that time.  That fits together nicely in the cosmic equation.  You are a part of that too.  Thanks, love, Felipe.  

8 thoughts on “One More Retro Post”

  1. Phil it IS a miracle that you are still here, still speaking into the mercy of this life we have in Christ, still being, thankfully, you, sharing your journey with your fellow travelers. This blog is a joy that I look forward to each day…

  2. Truly, you are a miracle. But we all are, aren’t we? We just forget to notice sometimes.
    So much of all the loves,
    Missing you!

    1. Esther ~ 99% of the time we are too busy with the hustle and bustle of it all. Miss you too. We were just up in Port Townsend visiting Jane and the staff of the festival. And at the moment we are in Monterey but no Esther. Felipe.x

    1. Ryck ~ hey, good to hear from you, you old sea dog! How is your wind blown self? Felipe.

  3. Yes, a miracle! So glad all is going successfully and your corn is growing. I remember the prepped field. Thank you for sharing your insights and thoughts! Keep on inspiring and dusting. Hope to get back to visit you this summer.
    With love, Karen Cole

    1. Hello Karen ~ yes, things are growing. The corn was about ten inches tall when I left it. Thanks for reading Caminoheads. And hope you can get back out here. Felipe.x

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