Monday March 24th
I am 5 weeks into chemo. I still have a little hair left and apart from my skin drying up a little, everything else seems to be normal. I am indeed very lucky and very fortunate to wake each day feeling good and in reasonable health. When I think of my situation just a few weeks ago, I was waking every day breathless and in pain. I have indeed much to be grateful for. Back then, I was tempted at one stage to ask the question. Why me? Then I remembered an incident that took place back in the 80's when I was in Bolton, England, training for a guide dog. A lad had returned home from the army having lost his sight through an incident somewhere, I can't remember the exact detail. Someone from his family asked me if I would go and talk to him. I think they were looking perhaps for someone to inspire him. I went to see the chap and the one thing he kept repeating was, "Why me?" Of course I don't know why things happen to me or to anyone else. One thing I do know though is that sometimes others are so badly injured, they are not even able to ask "Why me?" I told this chap, "When you recover and feel stronger and you will, no matter how you are feeling right now, get someone to take you to a graveyard and get them to read some of the inscriptions on the gravestones to you. You will find that it is not just the elderly that are buried there. You will find people from all ages lying there, including babies and on no gravestone will you find the words 'Why Me?' and you cannot be more disabled than dead". Today I have to wrap my own knuckles and remind myself when negative thoughts come in to my head such as why me? It's me because some other poor sod probably got a much worse deal than I did. We all thrive on hearing of inspirational stories though. Through the years I have been inspired by many different people. This inspirational story comes from Cheryl Teeling in Washington State, on the banks of the great Columbian river. I know that Cheryl and her husband Bruce often look at the webcam which is at the bottom of our garden overlooking the Silverburn River. Their river is two miles wide, ours is two miles long. Their country is huge, we live on a tiny island, yet we share the same World. We have the same goals and inspire each other through whatever format we have available to us. In this case inspiration came through a bald eagle called Freedom.
Jeff
Freedom and I have been together 10 years this summer.
When Freedom came in she could not stand. Both wings were broken, her left wing in 4 places. She was emaciated and covered in lice. We made the decision to give her a chance at life, so I took her to the vet's office. From then on, I was always around her. We had her in a huge dog carrier with the top off, and it was loaded up with shredded newspaper for her to lay in. I used to sit and talk to her, urging her to live, to fight; and she would lay there looking at me with those big brown eyes. We also had to tube feed her for weeks.
This went on for 4-6 weeks, and by then she still couldn't stand. It got to the point where the decision was made to euthanize her if she couldn't stand in a week. You know you don't want to cross that line between torture and rehab, and it looked like death was winning. She was going to be put down that Friday, and I was supposed to come in on that Thursday afternoon. I didn't want to go to the center that Thursday, because I couldn't bear the thought of her being euthanized; but I went anyway, and when I walked in everyone was grinning from ear to ear. I went immediately back to her dowl cage; and there she was, standing on her own, a big beautiful eagle. She was ready to live. I was just about in tears by then. That was a very good day.
We knew she could never fly, so the director asked me to glove train her. I got her used to the glove, and then to jesses, and we started doing education programs for schools in western Washington. We wound up in the newspapers, radio (believe it or not) and some TV. Miracle Pets even did a show about us.
In the spring of 2000, I was diagnosed with non-hodgkins lymphoma. I had stage 3, which is not good (one major organ plus everywhere), so I wound up doing 8 months of chemo. Lost the hair - the whole bit. I missed a lot of work. When I felt good enough, I would go to Sarvey and take Freedom out for walks. Freedom would also come to me in my dreams and help me fight the cancer. This happened time and time again.
Fast forward to November 2000, the day after Thanksgiving, I went in for my last checkup. I was told that if the cancer was not all gone after 8 rounds of chemo, then my last option was a stem cell transplant. Anyway, they did the tests; and I had to come back Monday for the results. I went in Monday, and I was told that all the cancer was gone. Yahoo!
So the first thing I did was get up to Sarvey and take the big girl out for a walk.. It was misty and cold. I went to her flight and jessed her up, and we went out front to the top of the hill. I hadn't said a word to Freedom, but somehow she knew. She looked at me and wrapped both her wings around me to where I could feel them pressing in on my back (I was engulfed in eagle wings), and she touched my nose with her beak and stared into my eyes, and we just stood there like that for I don't know how long. That was a magic moment. We have been soul mates ever since she came in. This is a very special bird.
On a side note: I have had people who were sick come up to us when we are out, and Freedom has some kind of hold on them. I once had a guy who was terminal come up to us and I let him hold her. His knees just about buckled and he swore he could feel her power coarse through his body. I have so many stories like that.
I never forget the honor I have of being so close to such a magnificent spirit as Freedom's.
Skipper is now barking, it is time for me to go walking. So, until tomorrow, this is Tom Glassey, News at 8.03 a.m on the banks of the Silverburn River.
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