Looking Up to the Clouds and the Naked Trees

February 23, 2021

Catching the Winter Sun

Sunrise ~ February 16, 2021                                 Sunrise from my bedroom

Sunset ~ February 16, 2021                Sunset from our office

Sunrise and Sunset

Catching the winter sun on both ends

Of a cold Minnesota winter's day

Captured from my windows with the help of a lens

Giving me a good start and end to a full day at home

Then carrying the sun in my heart

To spite the cloud cover the next day

Then carrying hope to spite the gloom

Then a smile crosses my face

"You can't get me, I'm sunshine!"

Have a great day and stay warm!

~jules

____________________

coming soon: a health update

End of Phase 3--BREATHING AND COMPASSION IN TREATMENT

 

The Sunrise of our New Life? I hope so.

February 3, 2021--my last day of radiation treatments

Today is my last day out of 20 radiation treatments! Wahoo! I can't believe it!

Four weeks of radiation has been way, way easier to handle than 5 months of chemotherapy or even surgery. Evenso, I've had to drive to the hospital every weekday for three weeks and get zapped. About a week ago I started getting the expected burn on my skin and an itchy rash. So it hasn't been without some discomfort and inconvenience. But it also hasn't been all bad.

During my visits, I met a lovely man from Zimbabwe. What a sweet human he is! Each day he greets everyone in the office as he walks in the door and asks how they are. I am glad to have crossed his path, however briefly. And every person who works on me at radiology treats me with kindness and dignity and affirmation. I am grateful for the peole who work there.

During my drives to and from, I've been learning more about country and our world as I listen to NPR radio shows. I've also been listening to a lovely book, "An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith" by Barbara Brown Taylor. This books focuses on all the ways in which we encounter God as we walk through our lives.

Alongside this time, I've been participating in a spiritual practices group via Zoom.  This group is sponsored by our church but not exclusive to members. Since October, four of us have been taking turns teaching a new prayer practice each month. Last month we learned about focusing on compassion. My favorite part was the practice of breathing in the pain, holding it for a moment and then breathing it out and releasing it. The idea is to focus on someone who needs compassion and breathing in their pain and then releasing it. Cooincidentally, part of my radiationt treatments is to "take a deep breath and hold" while the radiation is administered. "Now you can breath," the therapist says when each position of radiation is accomplished. Due to my prayer focus on compassion, I've been using my daily radiation treatments as a time to prayer for healing, to breathe in the illness and breath it out, making space for the healing. I've been praying for myself and for others. And maybe I'm encountering God in the radiology therapy machine. Hmmm. 

I never expected for this to happen, but it did. And as a result, I feel like my energy level has been good. Though I'm glad today is the end of it, I'm not worn out from it. I feel reassured and more confident that healing will come. Compassion is the beginning of healing right now for me and for my friends and neighbors and even those I disagree with. Perhaps as we make more room for compassion, we make more room for healing. I hope this is so.

Even as I end my treatments I am going to continue this practice: "Take a deep breath, breathe in the pain and hold it for a moment" then "Breathe out, releasing it all." 

Will this be the end? I don't think so. But I do hope it is the beginning of a stronger healing time. I hope this for all of us. I hope this is the sunrise of our our new life!

Finding Hope in the Trees during Challenging Times

January 9, 2021

Deep breath! What a week! Earlier this week, I went to radiology therapy for my pre-treatment dry run. At the exact same time, a group of insurrectionists gathered and with encouragement from our president and others, stormed the capitol. In addition, I have been getting messages from friends who have had major health issues or family deaths without a chance to gather for funerals. So many reasons to be discouraged. Enough said!

The next day I had my first of 20 radiation treatments to discourage my breast cancer from coming back. The treatments only take 10 minutes or so but it is a 15 to 20 minute drive each way. The treatments are every weekday until I have finished them all. It is not lost on me that there is a cancer of sorts in our culture too. I think we all feel it. Whether we know how to name it or how to cure it, we feel it in our bones or the shortness of our breath. It's been there a long time and only now got serious and big enough for us to really know that we need healing. We need to stop and allow healing to happen. 

One of the things that has worked for me in the past and is especially helpful to me this past ten months has been going for a daily walk. Because I have been very weak some of that time, I hold onto my husband's arm and we sometimes walk very slow and don't go far. It is just important to at least get out of my house and walk around the neighborhood. I haven't always been faithful at this in the past but lately it is part of what saves me. This practice is not just about exercise. It is about seeing the other part of the world, the other part of our reality, outside of our four walls and the screens that connect us now. 

The other thing that has worked for me is that I often take a camera with me or at least use my phone camera. The camera helps me really see what is there. The more I look, the more I am stunned at how abundant our world is. And by that I mean an abundance of beauty, of love, of glorious life! I look at the big and I look at the small details and the more I look, the more densely packed the world is with amazing life! 

This practice seeps into my relationships. I started noticing how incredible people are too. Although I'm less likely to take photos of them, I keep a heart picture of them inside of me. In the face of so many reasons to give up or lose hope, most people perservere and some even shine brighter than ever, making me wonder how I could let a little thing like spilled tea or lost keys or rush hour traffic bother me; making me think I can overcome this cancer and live on. And it makes me wonder how to invite that abunbance into the spotlight, so that we have hope of healing the community.

Today, my answer to that question is just to share some of my photos with you (see link at the end of this). The photos are all of trees and bushes in my neighborhood within a two-block radius of my house, that I took just this morning. We don't need to look far. We just need to look with eyes and hearts and ears open. There is hope. Here is some of my reason for being grateful and hopeful today. 

I pray that some day soon we'll know how to move through this time and find healing. I pray that my cancer will never come back. In the meantime, the trees and all of your hearts and all of your songs help keep me grounded in love and I hope this helps you too.

peace be with you, Jules

CLICK ON THIS LINK TO SEE THE WHOLE ALBUM

PHASE 3: Radiation PLUS Happy New Year!

 January 4, 2020

On the last day of the year, 12/31/2020, I went to see my radiologist for my mappings scans. This seemed an appropriate way to end the year, after all that has happened. This is the process for them to map out exactly what they will point the radiation at. A physicist works with the radiologist to create a plan using the scans. This week, on Wednesday, I will go back for a final review of the plan and a dry run. Then Thursday, I will start my official radiation treatments. They will be every weekday until I have done 20. My last radiation treatment is Wednesday, February 3rd. Whew!

I am feeling peaceful and hopeful about the radiation. I am assured that the side effects are minor and I am thrilled that it will be over in a month compared to 5 months of chemotherapy and all that mess. We can do this! Radiation can kill things scans can't see. The radiation treatments are mainly to prevent recurrence of the cancer.

My neuropathy continues to be an annoying issue. I keep hoping the feeling in my feet and fingers will someday come back. Sigh! Meantime, my hair is beginning to grow back. My grandson tells me it is "really soft."Yay! And so, I am grateful that you continue praying. My sister once said to me, "if we could bottle prayer, we could cure lots of things." Amen to that!

Meantime, Pete and I have had a wonderful holiday season with our COVID bubble, otherwise known as our kids and grandkids. Since it was also school break, that meant both Jacob and Karl had more time to be with us. We got see all of them for Christmas Eve and all of them at some point around New Year's. We are so grateful for this time to just be together and have some fun. It is good for our souls. I pray that all of you have had some moments of joy too over the holiday. Here is my New Year's Wish for you:

Breast Cancer Update--December 2020

It has been a while since my last breast cancer update. Until the holiday break, I was pretty busy catching up with work and friends and frankly just recovering. So I finally have a moment to sit down and catch you up a bit.

• SURGERY--December 2nd, I had a lumpectomy. They also took a lymph node. It has been 3 weeks and I am healing well. My energy level is good. My surgical wounds are healing, although not quite all the way yet. I met with my surgeon last week and he said all was healing well. I have some fluid in my breast at the sight of the lumpectomy but he said that will go away naturally and is rather normal for this type of surgery. My pain has gone way down, so I stopped taking the prescription pain meds.
• PATHOLOGY REPORT--the pathology report was good. The tissue they took from the margins around the lump was negative--no cancer. The lymph node they took out was negative--no cancer. The lump had shrunk considerably but not all the way. All of this was good news to me. I am excited to have it all out of me and leave that tumor behind in 2020.
• RADIATION TREATMENTS--even with all the good news, they are recommending radiation treatments because radiation can kill things they can't see. so I'll be doing those in January. I will be having 20 treatments, Monday through Friday, 5 days a week for 4 weeks. The radiologist says that the main side effect is fatigue with also some redness on the skin which can be treated with creams. Skin is pretty good a rejuvinating so that shouldn't be too bad. It will certainly be a lot less trouble than the chemotherapy has been.
• STILL RECOVERING FROM CHEMOTHERAPY--I continue to have a pretty bad case of neuropathy in both my feet (toes plus foot pads) and fingertips. So far it doesn't seem to be getting better but I am reassured that it sometimes takes up to a year for this to get better. Please pray for this healing. I would love to get my feeling back and have more control and not be so clutsy.

Meantime, I am so grateful for this holiday break without treatments and time to heal. Tomorrow, we will be foolish or brave and celebrate Christmas with our children and grandchildren, who happen to be our COVID bubble. I honestly haven't seen anyone else in person since I was diagnosed at the end of June and some people I haven't seen since February or March. 

I am also grateful for all the friends and family supporting me with prayer and phone calls or Zoom calls. I am so grateful for this support and wouldn't have survived this far without it. Thank you all for that!

I pray you have a healthy holiday celebration filled with PEACE and SURPRISES OF JOY! Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! 

with love and prayers,

Jules

The "Christmas Star"--Solstice 2020

 So this year's Solstice had a very special astronomical event---on solstice, Saturn and Jupiter crossed paths in the night sky creating the illusion of a big star which was affectionately called "the Christmas Star." It is believed that what the wise men saw was a similar convergence of planets, hence the nickname. The last time these two planets crossed paths in our night sky was 800 years ago so I really wanted to see this event. 

Like many other things in 2020, this didn't come out great for us. For the last 2 weeks, no matter how the day started, the evenings have been cloudy right at the time the two planets would be visible until last night. They had already crossed path and had separated again but at least we could see them. So Pete and I drove up to cemetery hill for a better view. It was worth it. I finally saw them! and I got a couple of photos that, if not great, at least show the event. 

I wonder if the wisemen ever lost track of the "star" due to cloud nights. Or was it just easy for them. And did they travel only at night so they could follow it better? It's interesting to me that for many, many years, people used the stars to find their direction. And even I, when I was growing up in Madagascar, used to lie on the ground at night with friends and watch the movements of the stars and planets. And now, we don't do that much anymore. I miss that simpler time. I miss being able to see the stars move. I miss wishing upon the stars.

Anyway, here are my photos. You might have to click on them to enlarge. If you look on the internet, you can find much better ones but I thought I'd share here anyway. I am wishing on this event a chance for a better and healthier year for everyone next year. Here's to 2021 and finding a way to control the chaos and the pandemic!

Blessings on you!

Jules

Mom's Other Legacy

When Camilla, my mother, moved to assisted living and then the nursing home, I took her remaining house plants to my home. Among these were two Christmas cactuses. Not wanting to disturb them, I left them in their original containers and just watered them. I don’t know exactly what year this was but it is likely 15 years ago. Mom died in 2007, 13 years, ago. And here they are, her two Christmas cactuses, still in their original containers, never having been repotted. Here they are still blooming every year, twice a year, for 15 years plus all the years that she had them. They are part of mom’s legacy and gift to me. These sweet little house plants whisper each year, “Don’t give up! Just let yourself bloom and grow! It will be enough.”

The other plants I inherited from mom were her African Violets. As they aged, I took their leaves, as mom always had and put them in soil. After 15 years I have her African Violet great  or great-great grandchildren! And they also bloom at this time of year, right alongside the Christmas cactus. Naturally this is a coincidence but for me, it is a full on season of reminding me of all the gifts Mom gave me. 

Her legacy included tending quite a number of  houseplants, knowing that these would brighten her world through the year, no matter what was happening. Like catus, the violets keep reminding me that blooming is possible. I love that they both blossom during the Thanksgiving/Christmas holidays and as the dark days approach. It doesn’t make sense but for some reason they find the dark days just the perfect time to bloom.

I am so grateful to my mother for teaching me about the houseplants.  What a legacy! She was right. They bring a lot of joy into the house, especially as the weather turns cold and the days get short. This room with the most houseplants, is my favorite room in the house. How lucky I am to get to sit here and eat my meals! May their green energy and Mom's sweet legacy continue to bloom for years to come!

THANKSGIVING--Quarantine Style

Intro

Due to my coming surgery (Dec 2nd) and the rising COVID risk, Pete and I were alone this Thanksgiving, maybe for the first time ever. We both come from large families so usually we are celebrating with others on Thanksgiving. I thought it would be really hard and lonely for parts of it, but overall, it was much more fun than I expected. It went something like this...

November 26th--Thanksgiving Day

We slept in and had late breakfast. Then late morning we signed on to a Zoom with Luke and Karl & Erica (& Wendell (5) & Sophie (2)). Karl and Erica had arranged games we could play online and once we got started, the time just zoomed by (no pun intended). We played games, each from our own home and computer, for nearly 3 hours. We played Mad Takes, scavenger hunt, Boggle, Lie Swatter and Drawful. It really was amazing how much fun we could have playing together virtually and not in person. I recommend giving it a try. There are a lot of choices online.

Jules' Lefse!

We had a feast of leftovers for lunch, which sounds sad but it truly was delicious! Then later, we had a Zoom call with Pete's mom and our son Luke. It was nice to connect and Luke even provided some live music for us. We touched based with a few others during the day via phone and had a nice walk around the neighborhood. 

Lefse Time:  For nearly 40 years, it has been my habit to make lefse for the whole Bonde clan at Thanksgiving, about 30 or 40 lefse. I grew up making lefse with my mom and I LOVE this tradition. So even though we didn't have a big dinner on Thanksgiving Day, I made lefse for supper. We supplemented it with fruit and were quite satisfied with our dinner. We went to sleep grateful for each other and for the virtual family connections.

November 27th--Thanksgiving Day #2

We slept in again. But with the day wide open and no contacts with others, it started out feeling excessively lonely to me. I'm used to having more contact with family the next day, sometimes playing games or doing puzzles together and eating leftovers of course. 

Our Gifted Thanksgiving Feast

Lucky for us, someone had planned to deliver us a treat. Around 3:30pm, our sweet friends, Mike & Judi, delivered an entire Thanksgiving dinner to us that included a whole turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, carrots, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and even 3 kinds of pies! I am quite certain we will get 4 or 5 meals out of it. It was delicious and definitely changed the feeling of the day for me. After that, Pete and I had a lovely evening cozying up on the couch and watching a show and relaxing together.  Thanks again Mike and Judi (Erica's parents).

Something else new...

Jules' rainbow turkey--2020

After years of wanting to do this, I finally took the time this Thanksgiving to color the turkey provided in the Minneapolis Star Tribune newspaper each year. I chose to go with rainbow colors. This felt like the best expression of hope I could offer this year...a rainbow of colors representing a promise given by God to God's people thousands of years ago at the end of the massive flood. On behalf of frustrated people everywhere I am embracing this promise, that we will survive all that 2020 has brought and find a new beginning at the end of it and in the new year.

Conclusion

Traditions are wonderful things. We can build great connections with family and friends around our tradition but sometimes life calls us to be flexible, to let go and just be with what is. 2020 has been full of the practice of being flexible, sometimes frustrating us. But I am happy to say Thanksgiving was quite delightful this year. I am grateful for what we had. Thanks be to God!

Looking Ahead

Three days from now, Wednesday, December 2nd, I will have my lumpectomy surgery. So now we make the last prepartions for that. It will be outpatient surgery so I'll be able to go home afterard, for which I am grateful. I am confident it will go well even as I acknowledge that I won't really know what it is like until I get through it. I am glad it will soon be over.

Thanks again for all your prayers for my healing from cancer and all the kindness offered through cards and gifts and conversations and messages. I am so grateful for all of you! May your kindness come back to you tenfold!

With deep gratitude, Jules

A Life of Gratitude Creates a Life of Abundance --Jules

PHASE TWO OF TREATMENT: SURGERY

Good Morning Dear Friends and Family,

Now that chemotherapy is done, it is time to plan for the next phase of treatment: surgery.

I had my breast MRI and chest CT scans last Friday. They showed that my tumor had shrunk from its original length of 4cm (which is quite large) to 1.7 cm. This is significant change. The chemo worked! The scans also continue to show that all of the cancer is contained in the one tumor. No other activity is showing up on the scans. 

Then we saw my surgeon on Tuesday. He was also impressed with the response of the tumor. I will be having a lumpectomy, which is the smallest surgery one could expect from breast cancer. I am grateful. The surgeon was very encouraging about the surgery, that it would much easier to handle than my chemotherapy.  He also was encouraging about the radiation that would follow,  saying that the risk of radiation is so small, it is worth doing.

HERE'S THE PLAN:

• November 18--I will begin my quarantine to prepare for surgery. this means no in-person company for Thanksgiving. Sorry guys!
• Surgery--December 2nd, 11:00 am--I am scheduled for my lumpectomy. He will remove what's left of my tumor and also take a lymph node out just to be sure there is no activity in the lymph system. This is an outpatient surgery.. I will NOT be staying at the hospital.
• Radiation--3 to 4 weeks after surgery, I will begin radation treatments. The treatments will last 4 to 6 weeks. I'll get more details on this later.

HOW I AM:

I am feeling pretty confident about this next phase. I am excited that surgery means the cancer will finally be gone and I can leave it behind in 2020, literally. I grateful that I will have less side effects to deal with. I look forward to continued healing and gaining of strength in the new year. 

I am noticing my energy returning in tiny increments but each little thing matters. Yesterday, I did some closet cleaning, even worked up a sweat. How cool is that!

Meantime, I have a long, long way to go on healing from the neuropathy. That may take six months or longer? 

Other days, I am sad, that this coming holiday season will not be people coming together. I am sad for myself and for all of us. I pray we find fun,  creative ways to deal this challenge. 

Some of the things that are helping me are regular Zoom meetings with friends. Each Thursday, I meet with my book group from church. Wonderful conversations! Each Tuesday, I meet with two of my writing friends. We give ourselves an assignment and then read to each other what we wrote for that assignment, as well as check in. Each month, I meet with my peer group and my Morningstar Singers choir as well. And I have a goal of reaching out to one person beyond these walls each day.  This may seem like a lot to some of you but when you compare it to how many people we used to see daily as we worked and played and lived, it is not a lot. But it is enough to keep me going.

I am blessed to be so rich in people resources! Thanks again to each of you for your love and care and encouragement and of course, your prayers and songs.

May you each have a blessed Thanksgiving!

with all my heart, Jules

and greetings from Pete as well

Jules' Cancer Update: CHEMO IS DONE!

YES! YES! YES!

 Good News!

I am officially done with chemotherapy! 

As of this moment (November 4, 2020), I will begin the detoxing and my body will have a chance to recover from all the poisons. I am so excited!

What's next? I will have my CT and MRI scans on Friday. I will meet with the surgeon next week to determine what happens next. 

YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES!

CHEMOTHERAPY: APPROACHING THE END

Breast Cancer Update—November 1, 2020

What a chaotic and miserable ride the year 2020 has been so far! With COVID and civil unrest and the chaotic election campaign and then for me, breast cancer! It’s all a big messy pile of tangled garbage to me! I found my cancer lump the week George Floyd was murdered and I’m ending my first phase of treatment the same week as election day! Ugh!

It’s been nearly 5 months since my breast cancer diagnosis, and I am almost done with the chemotherapy treatment phase. I have one more Taxol treatment on the calendar this week on Wednesday. I have an agreement with my oncologist that this last treatment is negotiable. I will meet with her online Wednesday morning before my treatment to make that final decision.

Throughout the treatment so far, I have been hit rather hard with side effects caused by the chemotherapy drugs. Even the doctors and nurses have said that I have had more than my fair share. Currently my feet are quite numb, especially my toes and foot pads. This causes me to be a bit unstable as my feet don’t really feel the ground. In addition, I have neuropathy damage in my fingertips as well. My fingers are also clumsy as a result. My fingernails are also extremely affected by this. There is some pain with this but mostly it is unnerving and makes me shaky. Throughout the treatment I have had lots of issues with digestion and intestines as well. In addition, I usually have a couple of days each weekly cycle when my bones in my legs just ache. Most recently, I’m having some episodes that cause my arms and legs to tremor for a bit.

And now, nearing the end, I am starting to have hope that as I detox from this, my body will find ways to recover and heal. At least that is what I pray for.

What’s next? This coming Friday I will have my follow up scans to see how well we did. I am praying for a good report. I won’t really know the answer until I have my consult with the surgeon the following week. And then we will see what’s next.

Meantime, I am and have been grateful to know that all of you are there holding me up in your hearts. Your prayers and friendship mean so much to me. I have even had the chance to have a couple of longer conversations with friends recently, conversations that remind me how precious each of you really are.  I can’t thank you enough. Truly! Your support means the world to me, even if you have not heard from me.

And now I pray for peace in our country, for God’s arms to wrap us in his abundant love and grace and fill us with wisdom for the next steps.

As I enter this next phase of my cancer treatment and the election comes to a close, I’d like to share this thought with you:

When all seems lost in the chaos, lean into the LOVE you know is real! Lean into the Holy One, lean into the trees, sun, and wind. Lean into the friendships and people you trust. The trees, the sun, the ground, your friends and the Holy One will never stop supporting you. Let that LOVE you KNOW fill you to fullness! Let that be the LOVE you breathe in today! 

This is going to be my new daily practice this week. I’m going to lean in to that LOVE! I invite you to do the same!

Peace be with you, Jules

CHEMO TREATMENT DAY---#12: A GOOD DAY--YAY!

October 14, 2020...one of the best days I've had in awhile. 

Due to extreme toxicity in my body from reactions to the chemotherapy (taxol), I skipped my treatment last Wednesday. My body really needed the extra days to detox and recover a little. in that process, today has been one of my best days in awhile. I even had some energy today. 

I met with my oncologist early this morning (virtually). We talked about all the reactions and how I"m doing and came up with a plan. First she cut the dosage for my chemo, going forward. Perhaps if it is not such a big dose, I won't get as strong a reaction. And then she said that going forward we would be deciding on a week by week basis whether we will finish the rest of the Taxol treatments. Currently, I have 4 more to go. She is hoping I will finish at least 2 more of those. I am glad that we have a back up plan, that there is a way out, if my body needs it. In a few weeks, this could all be over! Praying for the strength to make there.

And then at 10:30 am, I had my treatment for this week, which takes about 2 1/2 hours. I was sleepy and napped through most of it. The treatment room is always so quiet and peaceful. The nurses are always so kind.

As for my side effects, 

• the rash is still there on my arms but the burn and pain from the burn is gone! I am so grateful. Thank you dermatologist for giving me the right ointment! 
• my bone pain (mostly in my legs) is still bothering me. I continue to try to figure out when is the best time to take pain meds and sleeping aids for the best rest for me. 
• For my neuropathy (numbness in my feet and fingers), my oncologist prescribed another med that she says will bring some relief. So far I'm not noticing it but it's only been 4 days. I am hopeful.
• getting a good night sleep depends on how well I manage all of the above. But today I had a couple of awesome naps and now I feel pretty good.

So I'm coming back out of the rough of the last two weeks, getting more help from the docs and nurses and gradually finding my way back to life. Today's a good day! Yay! I even cleaned up the living room and the kitchen and made Pete dinner. 😊

If you haven't heard from me personally in awhile, my apologies. I just haven't had the energy to reach out to my close friends lately. I know you're there. I know you care but lately, I've spent most of my time just managing the pain and misery. I will reach out as my energy returns for it.

Meantime, I miss you all! I know you miss everyone too! I miss the sparkle in your eyes, the deep vibration in your laughter and song, the delight in your dreams of light and your sincere desire to make the world a better place. I miss you and I'm grateful to know you are there! so grateful! Thanks for being you and offering the world your heart.

I hope your day has some hope in it!

I leave you with on my recent favorite pictures.

The leaves drop down to catch the sunrise on a recent morning, shortly before falling to the ground.

This image fills my heart with color and hope and gratitude for the beauty. Enjoy!

Hitting the Wall and Asking for Help

the rash on my arms

So after weeks of dealing with every increasing side effects and accumulation of issues, I eally hit the wall on my tolerance for pain and misery. This last few days have been my most difficult so far. Generally I do have a tolerance for pain and a strong inclination to just do what I'm told. But everyone has their limits. And I am so grateful at this moment that I faced my limit and called out for help

Beginning Saturday, I was having a lot of pain---from the rash on arms, to the constant ache in my bones to something that feels like a belt cinched too tight around my stomach. This “stomach pain” has made it hard to breathe easy and hard to eat. And all of the above has made it hard to sleep and get rest. So then on Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning I called the nurse to get help; especially for my pain. That turned out to be a really good idea because I actually got help.

Here is what happened and some changes coming.

When I went in for my usual Tuesday blood draw yesterday, they kept me another hour and gave me a bag of IV fluids which made me feel much better. Before that, they had me meet with the Nurse Practitioner, Gorak. We talked and Gorak then made the following decisions:

· I will be skipping my chemotherapy treatment this week. Instead I am back in today for another round of fluids. Hydration is important.

· Because I've had so much pain in my stomach area, I will also be getting a CT scan on my abdomen. Gorak just wants to be sure there isn't anything else going on in that area. 

· I am also going to get referred to a dermatologist to see if there is anything else they can do for the painful rash on my arms.

· Finally, Gorak prescribed some pain meds which I have already gotten some relief from earlier today.

In addition, I heard from my oncologist, Dr. Huang, who gave her stamp of approval for skipping this week's chemo and also offered that she will cut back on the dosage in the coming weeks. I am at this moment unsure if that means I have 4 or 5 treatments left?

WITH LOVE AND GRATITUDE!

So, as I sit here with the fluids dripping in, I have a moment to reflect and mostly what comes up is gratitude. I'm so lucky to have my husband Pete by my side through this journey, helping me to figure what to do and how to get help. And I"m glad for that moment when I could admit I wasn't strong enough for this, because it got me here today, getting help. Perhaps, one of our strongest moments is when we can admit we can't do this alone. And the truth is we never can do it alone. Whether we feel it or not, we are always living in relationship with each other, leaning in to each other when we  can and reaching out when we can. And so it is! I'm here getting help because I can't do it alone. And I"m here because of you and your heart and your prayers. I'm here because you are, because we are.

So once again THANK YOU!

I am extremely grateful for all the help I am getting and that they took my misery seriously. Though still tired, I do feel better. My pain is easing and I am more confident again that I"ll be able to ride this out to the end.

 thanks for all your support! I love you all!

 Jules

LIKE A LEAF—a reflection of FALL 2020

It’s fall, the season of colors and falling leaves. Fall is an apt name for it as it does kind of feel like we are falling, that I am falling into the darkness. The days shorten as we pass the equinox and head into the long nights on the dark side of our year. This year, with my breast cancer amidst the context of COVID isolation, I feel like I fell into the darkness long before fall came. My body’s functions are at the mercy of the poisons in the chemotherapy administered each week. From my bones to my organs and my skin; everything is working less well. The darkness has moved into my body and my spirit sometimes feels like a dried up leaf in the pile on the lawn. Once vibrant with the colors showing through, I am now just wrinkled and delicate brown wrapper close to crumbling into dust. And what is that dust but compost for the next life? At least I hope this is so.  I hope that dust settles into my roots and provides nourishment for a new life for me.

I’ve been watching the leaves closely this year and taking lots of pictures of them before, during and after that fall. My fascination with the process is endless. I notice things like how the whole tree doesn’t change all at once, how not even all the trees of the same species change at the exact same moment. The journey is specific to each one. In fact each leaf goes through a gradual process of changing color so that for awhile they are multi-colored with some on the tree being farther along then others. and I notice they hold their vibrant color for awhile even after they fall and before they turn brown and delicate. And all of it causes me to wonder how does the change happen in me. How do I fall? What is my process for change? Am I, like the leaf, part of the cycle of the season?

I have this impression that the leaves fall so gently from the tree, that it is a peaceful experience but my cancer has been a painful, sometimes lonely, struggle. It is not what I would  describe as peaceful. Rather I’d describe it as chaotic and sometimes painful. Perhaps this is more so because I fight it. I am doing all I can to hang on to the tree still, even as another and another leaf fall and another and another part of my body gets affected. Perhaps it is this clinging that causes my experience of the fall to be suffering. Maybe the leaf falls gently because it does not resist it just allows the process to happen. It has had a good life on the tree and even had a glorious moment of glowing with all the deep colors from within. So what am I to do? Cling to the life I know and show my colors or let go, allow the wind to carry me gently to the ground?  I feel the fight still to hang on but I want to be like a leaf, to allow the compost to fall and become the dust that will bring new life next year, the return of the greening and growth.

It brings to mind this song “When I Rise” that I learned in song circle. It is based on a quote by Wendell Berry. This is an aural tradition song so lyrics have been added over the years by different people and even two different tunes have been created. I apologize for not knowing who to give credit for these particular lyrics. These lyrics, and this song, speaks deeply to where I want to be in my soul as I fall even deeper into the darkness of this year 2020—deeper into fighting cancer, deeper into the isolation and worry of COVID 19 virus and deeper into the uncertainty of our country’s leadership. These are the words that I hope to live into. These are the experiences that I hope will carry me into the new life that waits for me next year, the new life that waits for us all.

HERE ARE VARIOUS LYRICS TO "WHEN I RISE" 

When I rise, Let me rise
Like a bird, Joyfully 

When I fall, Let me fall

Like a leaf, Gracefully

Without regret

While I live, Let me live

Like a river, Flowing free

When I pass on, To the next place

My love will be, Eternally

When I stand, let me stand,

Like a tree, strong and tall,

And when I lie, let me lie,

Like a lake, reflecting all.

When I resist, I will resist,
Like the sea, relentlessly.

And when I speak, I will speak,

like the wind, loud and free

If you'd like to hear one version of this song, CLICK ON THIS YOUTUBE VIDEO.

To see a photo album with more fall colors--CLICK HERE AND ENJOY THE LEAVES!

REMEMBERING HANS--20 YEARS LATER!

September 28, 2000, 7:45pm, our son Hans Peter Bonde, died from a glioblastoma multiforme (brain cancer) when he was 11 ½ years old. In an email I wrote these words to our family and friends: “God has answered our prayers and now Hans is truly healed….We give thanks to Hans for staying with us as long as he did. We give thanks to God for thinking to give him to us and for restoring him to wholeness now. We are sad to say goodbye.”

September 28, 2020--And now it is suddenly, or not so suddenly, 20 years later! Hans’ brothers are grown and on their own. Jacob is 36! He’s married to Beth and has a 5-year-old daughter, Solveig. Karl is soon 34! He’s married to Erica and has a 5-year-old son, Wendell and a 2-year-old daughter, Sophie. Luke is 28! All of them are doing well, with life, with work, with family! Pete and I still live in the same house we did back then but oh so many other things have changed. All three households live within a 20-minute drive from us. We are so grateful! What an amazing family they are!

My original plan was to have a huge party to celebrate and remember all the gifts of Hans 20 years later. We were going to have live music and have a great time. You my friends would have been invited. But COVID and my breast cancer took that plan and threw it in the garbage. So instead, we gathered with our boys and their families to have a time of remembrance. We did some of Hans’ favorite activities—watch the Vikings game and play Sequence (a favorite board game). We had good food, played some ball outside, and watched some old home movies. It was a lovely day and we couldn’t be more grateful to have Jacob, Karl and Luke living close by so we could do this.

So this is what has been on my mind lately, thinking about Hans, the incredible adventure before we lost him and the incredible adventure we’ve had since. Those home movies reminded me again of how much I loved being a full-time mom, how much Pete and I loved raising our four boys together, how much fun we had just living. The boys were always moving, playing, growing and we were always trying to keep up. We enjoyed road trips and camping, ball games, music and many joy-filled days just living our ordinary daily lives. When Hans got cancer, though we had challenges, our joy for each other did not stop. You can see it in the sparkle of Hans’ face. He was still living with us in joy. And then we lost him and had to move on. I am particularly proud of the amazing humans Jacob, Karl and Luke have become. They are three of the kindest and most loving people I know! Already, and still quite young, they have left a legacy of kindness behind them, both in their work and in their friendships! I heartily recommend getting to know them.

Pete and I have grown too, in ways we never expected and we’ve learned a lot, mostly to not take anything for granted. Life is precious. A family, of any kind, is a miracle. Friends are angels in disguise. Children are the best teachers on the planet. Music, color, poetry, the sparkle in my husband's eye...those are just are bonuses, generosity beyond measure from the Holy One. We’ve learned the ordinary is sacred and extraordinary is just that, extra. Over the years, gratitude and joy have helped us move on in so many ways to get through the waves. So, as it has been 20 years, and as Hans is still remembered as a joyful, enthusiastic soul, I thought I would share 20 things that bring me JOY and GRATITUDE.

20 THINGS I AM GRATEFUL FOR

1. Hans...forever a smile in his eyes.

2. Pete, Jacob, Karl, Hans, Luke...a feast of family

3. Beth, Erica…amazing daughter-in-laws.

4. My sister Vangie

5. The entire Bonde clan...really, everyone should have a Bonde in their life! I am so lucky they let me in the family.

6. My grandchildren: Solveig, Wendell and Sophie. They so generously give us their  curiosity, their trust and their wonder.

7. Madagascar, my birthplace…this precious treasure that gave me my childhood, my faith, my beginnings.

8. Sunrises, sunsets, wildflowers, fall...a feast of colors

9. Poetry...a feast of words

10. Work(paid or volunteer)..an invitation to be who I am, to help create healthy community. I especially love being a spiritual director/companion.

11. Kayaking...an adventure in every paddle

12. My camera...surprising discoveries everywhere

13. Rocks...something solid to hang on to (Pete is a rock too)

14. Bare feet...by some miracle all those tiny bones seem to hold me up and take me everywhere I need to go...so grateful

15. My singing communities: Nativity Church Choir, Morning Star Singers, Village Fire, Perfection Free Singing and Geralyn. Harmony and the beauty of community created through song.

16. The Dragonfly Project and all the dragonflies that have showed up for us over the last 20 years! They are always reminding us that we are never alone in our grief.

17. the most incredible girl friends…thank you Sally, Patsy, Rena, Amber, Kath, Geralyn, Nancy and Rhonda!

18. Nativity Lutheran Church Community…so grateful for the struggle, the wonder, the nurturing and the camaraderie over the last 39 years!

19. My parents, Laurel and Camilla Johnson, who started me off with so much love and care. They gave me the world and their hearts.

20. God’s never-ending and abundant love and grace!

If you feel like honoring our son on this 20^th Anniversary, here are some ideas:

• share something you are grateful for with us
• tell a child in your life how wonderful they are
• donate to The Dragonfly Project in memory of Hans, https://www.dragonflyproject.org/make-a-donation
• donate to the Hans Bonde Memorial Fund at Nativity Lutheran Church, https://www.nativitychurch.org/give/  [3312 Silver Lake Rd NE, St. Anthony, MN 55418]

With Gratitude and Tears we remember!

Taxol Treatment #6: Frustrating Side Effects and Hope

 September 23, 2020

So here I sit in the chemotherapy room. It’s a big place with 7 lazy boy chairs, each one with a patient plugged in to an IV tube, some through their arms, some of us through ports that have been surgically placed. I am very grateful for my port as it saves a lot of the pain of being poked in the arm each time. It is a great invention. And the reclining chairs are a nice to touch as I usually have to sit here for 3 hours each time. I took this picture of the room last week when it was not busy. 

Each session begins with some pre-meds to treat for side effects and reactions. Then the real stuff, the Taxol, takes an hour to drip in. I’m usually here a total of 3 hours. I do what writing I can at the beginning because during the Taxol treatment I have to have my hands and feet on ice. The ice is to help prevent nerve damage from the Taxol and since I already have some numbness in my toes and fingers, I am inclined to do what I can to help prevent more.

This is Taxol treatment #6 out of 12, so I am used to the routine. So many people wonder how I am on the day of treatment and I have to say that the day of treatment is usually pretty comfortable and smooth. It isn’t until I am home, about 4 hours later, that I start to get a fuzzy, tingling feeling in my face and neck. That feeling travels down my back and arms and lasts until I have fallen asleep. It is always gone by the time I wake up the next morning, for which I am grateful. It’s not a painful experience but it is very annoying….so I am glad it only lasts about 5  or 6 hours.

Then it is a couple days later that the fatigue kicks in and that takes 2 or 3 days to ride out. Whew! In addition, I often have digestive issues on these fatiguing days. My taste came back and my appetite is better but with the digestive issues I still have to very careful what I eat. I also have had rash on my arms and legs for 8 to 10 weeks now. It got better for awhile and then worse again. The rash feels like a sunburn. Basically it feels to me like there isn’t any part of my body that I get to be in charge of. Chemotherapy is running the show. Suffice it to say, I’m very tired of this routine but my tumor seems to be shrinking so I hope this is all worth it.

So how am I? That depends on what day you ask. Some days are better and I have a little kick of energy. On those days it feels good to dig into life a little more and I find hope. Then I have days where I just lay on the couch and try to distract myself from the discomfort. On those days I’m not even motivated to ask to talk to someone. So it depends on what day you ask.

So where do I draw my energy from to keep going? Where do I find hope?

I do have some hope now in September. I am back to working teaching distance students as part of the spiritual direction training program at Christos Center for Spiritual Formation called Tending  the Holy. This is the beginning of my 9^th year (my 5^th group) working with distance students in Tending the Holy! I LOVE this work of coaching and companioning those who are stepping into this practice of spiritual direction. It also looks like I might get to teach a small group of students at Bethel College, the same thing. Cool! This work calls me to my best and higher self and that is the gift of it. I draw closer to the Spirit and to my true self as I show up for those who want to learn. What a treat!

Also, I have found tremendous hope and inspiration from the seasonal changing colors on the trees in my neighborhood. These colors inspire me to pay attention and the way that they change causes me to ask how change happens in me and how we might allow God to change us. If you want to see my FALL PHOTO ALBUM, CLICK HERE

And then I take hope from you my friends, those who are praying for me, those who are singing (at a safe distance), those who are doing their part to help heal this world and the people in it. You give me hope. Thank you! I so appreciate the deep friendships I have that remind me of my true self, my best self. Chemo can’t take that away from me! I am so grateful.

So that’s my update on the day of my 6^th Taxol treatment (out of 12 total). I had 4 AC Treatments before the Taxol so I’ve been at this since the end of June and will finish the first week of November. After that I will be re-scanned and tested and see what is next.

Thanks for reading! Thanks for praying! Thanks for allowing yourself to think of our friendship! Thanks for all you do to bring LOVE into the world!

Love to you all, Jules

SONGS & PRAYERS & PAPER HUGS

9/3/2020

 Hi all you beautiful people! I am so grateful to all of you!

 I started this breast cancer journey way back at the end of May. The end of June I started my AC Chemo treatments. Then on August 26^th, I started my Taxol chemo treatments and have had 3 so far. I have 9 weekly treatments left of Taxol. Following that, I will have scans and discover with the doctor, what, if any surgery is needed.

 Some of you know that I had a pretty rough go of it with the AC Chemo, with August being the worst month. In addition to multiple side effects, I had about 4 weeks where I just couldn’t shake a bladder infection. As of today, I have been without a bladder infection and antibiotics for a week! This helps immensely with my ability to eat and digest as the antibiotics caused a lot of diarrhea. Also, my taste buds are finally recovering so the food is starting to taste good again! And that means I have more energy for living. Pete & I have started going for daily walk again! I am actually quite excited about this progress and hopeful that the rest of the 9 weeks will be easier.

 Meantime, I’m acutely aware that I’ve been held by your prayers, your songs and your notes of encouragement. Some of those notes came in the form of cards or as I like to call them now, paper hugs. Some of those notes came through texts or emails. And some I got directly from phone calls and chats on Zoom or Facebook. This week on Monday evening, I got an extra dose of love and support from my beloved Morning Star Singers as they gathered on Zoom to sing to me and also to another member, Bill. What a sweet hour of encouragement and love that was. I cried tears of love and joy for the gift of these sweet people who have given so much of their voices to encourage healing in others. Thank you, Morning Star Singers! And thank you to each and everyone of you who have offered me prayers and notes of encouragement. I couldn’t do this without you!

 There is still a long way to go. So please keep praying that this chemotherapy process shrinks the tumor down to nothing. It’s a lot of fuss to go through so I am praying it works! And please keep praying for my husband, Pete, who offers me so much love and support and sometimes gets weary of my struggle.

 Thanks again to all you beautiful people!

Sending my love,

jules

Here are some photos of all the paper hugs I’ve gotten.

 

 

RIDING THE WAVES

 
Sunday, August 23

It's Sunday morning, COVID-style plus cancer. Pete and I wake up slowly (there’s no hurry), then make some breakfast and watch Nativity's worship service online. While we watch we pass the peace to friends and family using our texting functions on our phones. We sing the songs, say the prayers and listen to the message for today. Today, we are not particularly inspired, but this routine is important to us. It's not what we long for but we cling to what we can these days. We cling to the community of faithful believers that we call Nativity, we cling to our faith, cling to our loved ones and to each other. Indeed, Pete and I have taken to holding hands while we listen, just to have that feeling of being truly connected to God's grace. This is the raft we are hanging on to as we ride the waves of my breast cancer, of the isolation of COVID-19 and the waves of political and racial unrest in our nation.

 Growing up next to the ocean, my experiences with waves were early and many. Some waves are gentle and you just let your body go with it. Some waves threaten to crush you. These are the ones you measure whether you can outswim or whether you will dive right under. Some waves invite the challenge of swimming fast enough to stay at the crest as long as possible. For me, having breast cancer is like riding waves. Most of my time is spent discerning how to ride the next wave out. The waves in this case, are the myriads of side effects of the chemotherapy that must be endured or managed.

 During my 4 treatments of AC Chemo (each 2 weeks apart in June and July), my side effects included ruined taste buds, constipation, diarrhea, excessive gas including hiccupping, sore feet and hands, sun rash, yeast rash and a recurring bladder infection. I am pretty exhausted from the constant dealing with one or the other of these things. And just as I am recovering from those, I have already begun the Taxol treatments. Everyone keeps saying that the Taxol treatments are easier to handle but that clearly doesn't include the fact that I'm still on antibiotics for a bladder infection. And all the antibiotics cause diarrhea and/or nausea. So the waves keep coming in and I keep doing my best to discern the best course of action for comfort and ease. I still have 11 weekly Taxol treatments to go.

 Some of the waves come in the form of overwhelming emotion. I feel weary and sorry for myself at times. I'm immensely lonely and yet have no desire to risk more infection from gathering with friends. At the same time, I’m overwhelmed by deep, deep gratitude for the incredible friends and family I am blessed to have. Pete, in particular, has always been a miracle of love for me and now is no exception. He keeps things going, takes care of my needs, does all the shopping and somehow manages to stay excited about his garden. And because there is time and cause, I also worry about the state of our nation. It is hard not to notice the turmoil of the division and the coming election. All these emotions, come in waves too, some with tears of joy, some with tears of sorrow and occasionally a scream or two escapes my lips as I cry out to God for help for all of us.

 The thing about riding waves is that the water doesn't intend to drown you. In fact, the buoyancy of water generally carries me and my little raft, holding me gently as the energy of the waves rocks me. I think of this as the Holy Spirit, the love of the Holy One holding me, carrying me along even as I do my best to manage the waves. Deep below the surface God's grace is holding me, whether I am capable of knowing it in the moment or not. This truth sustains me even when I can't pray, even when I can't see what to do. And I know that you all are part of bringing God's uplifting grace to me. Your notes of encouragement, your prayers and songs on my behalf, and your love all help keep me going and centered. So thank you for that. Trust me, it matters even when there is only silence between us, just as it matters that the water will carry this raft, even when I can no longer paddle.

 So please keep the prayers coming because there are more waves to come.