Stranded in Paradise

I survived my first inter-island chemotherapy expedition, though not before nearly jumping on the first plane back to Utah. I arrived in Honolulu last Thursday with my friend April. We flew from Hilo and ended up in a stretch limo by some stroke of luck, heading for Queen’s hospital downtown. Pele was looking out for me. My spirits dropped when I visited the doctor. I had started developing a nasty cold several days earlier. In Hawaii’s moisture and humidity, things like a cold don’t go away very easily. My doctor was reluctant to give me chemo and then have me fly back to the rural part of the Big Island where I was staying, so far from the hospital. What if the chemo caused my counts to drop severely, making it more difficult to recover? What if this was really the beginnings of a bacterial infection? I was caught in a catch 22. This is the first time I have had real obligations waiting at home for me. In the past, chemo took precedence, no question. If I needed to wait and spend a few days recovering with the aid of an antibiotic, there was nothing stopping me. That should be the case now, but now I had a work schedule, a return flight and nowhere to stay in Honolulu. In my gut, I knew the doctor was giving sound advice. You don’t mess with your health this way. But it is always so difficult to accept how unpredictable this process can be, especially when I feel others are relying on me. My best laid plans get thrown out the window, and Thursday afternoon found me stranded in Honolulu for five days with nowhere to stay, and few people to lean on. I was scared, questioning why I had come to Hawaii in the first place, so removed from my old familiar support system of friends and family.

But these islands have a surprisingly gentle compassion for the weary, when you take time to assess what you need. I asked for help from a few new acquaintances that I didn’t know very well. That night, I stayed with a new friend from Kalani, David, who proved to be an angel, seeing my near-feverish state, and nursing me towards recovery throughout the night. The next day, the American Cancer Society found a hotel for April and I to stay at in Waikiki, a fantastic discount for a comfortable room just minutes from the beach. David took us to the beach, and I began to think that being stranded in Waikiki might not be the worst thing in the world. I got a bit of a chance to play tourist for a few days, laying by the pool, going to see a few movies, checking out some cool local restaurants, driving with April around Oahu, even getting a hair cut at a fancy salon. For all its touristy hype, Waikiki was a nice break from the jungles.

On Monday, I received chemo as scheduled. The cancer center at Queen’s hospital is state-of-the-art, everything from hot blankets to keep you warm to lemon water to keep you hydrated. The nursing staff was exceptional and caring. They were concerned about my low energy level in general and also my stress level, as I continue to adjust to life here. Avis, the head nurse, urged me to take life as easy as possible right now, and to save the energy I have to put towards nurturing myself. It’s a tough negotiation as I try to take on more responsibility for myself. I’m learning how to ask for what I need from people I don’t know very well, and it isn’t always an easy thing to communicate that. But I feel so much compassionate support here, and a willingness on behalf of friends to adjust and respond, if I can first be willing to give that compassion to myself.

My brother Zach and I were talking on the phone the other day and he mentioned that he thought our understanding of ourselves is directly linked to the chances we take in life. Moving to Hawaii was taking a big chance for me, and I don’t regret it. I’m learning much about myself and how to care for myself. So I have much gratitude for the journey, bumpy roads and all.