Two years in: Strength, born from pain

Autumn in her flaming dress of orange, brown, gold fallen leaves

Hello everyone.  We are making our way further into October, so I figured opening this post with a track from Type O Negative's "October Rust" LP would be appropriate.  Those of you who know me well and understand my devotion to the Misfits might be wondering why I haven't dedicated a post this month to them, but honestly the Misfits are an anytime band to me so I don't find myself necessarily enjoying them more when this time of year rolls around.  Maybe closer to Halloween I will put together a cool mix of Misfits songs and there will DEFINITELY be some Samhain discussion going on in November.

In the meantime, this post will focus on the relevance of October in my medical history, and I will share a couple songs that helped me when the only feelings I had were the bad feelings that combined to lead me down a road of pain that can be hard to turn away from.

This past Friday (10/11) marks the two year anniversary of my official diagnosis of Stage 4 Hodgkins Lymphoma.  I was diagnosed a few days after Heather and I had attended Octoberfest in Harvard Square, which is your typical crowded mess of arts and crafts and food.  During our time there, I must've asked Heather if we could sit down and take a break every ten minutes because my fatigue had gotten so bad that I needed to take moments to rest almost constantly.  (Today is actually our 2.5 year anniversary and she deserves all the credit she can get for sticking with my sick butt through all this.)

This Native American (?) finger puppet is our memento from Octoberfest 2011.  Looks like an Italian Mr. Peanut.

That week I made another appointment with my then-PCP (who had misdiagnosed the giant lump in my chest earlier in May as something insignificant) who sent me to Cape Cod Hospital to get an ultrasound.  On the bus back to the city I get a call from my PCP telling me I should go to the Emergency Room right away. Since it was the weekend and Monday was Columbus Day, I spent about five days in the hospital waiting for the right people to be in the right places to give me scans, take a biopsy, etc.  Before the biopsy they loaded me with gas and the last thing I remember is the nurse saying, "Harry what's your phone numbeeeeeeeeer" before feeling like I had just been shot across the room from a giant slingshot.  From there I experienced major deja vu, as I was interpreting the surgeons talking and machine noises as a piece of music I'd heard before.  That lasted until I felt a blade stab me deep in the neck and I had to scream out, "I CAN FEEL THAT," to let them know their anesthesia was inadequate. "Oh sorry!"  I can still feel it when I think about it.

I'd seen this in the Ikea catalog and Heather brought it to the hospital for me.  

So that was two years ago.  A lot has happened since then,  and overall I am in a 100% better place healthwise, mentally, and so on, even if my life won't be back to normal any time soon.  But there were times I struggled immensely with the reality of being sick.  Sometimes I was pissed off and miserable, sometimes I was scared and depressed.  Other times I felt a combination of conflicting emotions that I cannot accurately describe.  I've been fortunate to avoid a lot of major physical pain throughout much of my illness, but I still had to manage this mental pain.  Fortunately I had no shortage of songs relating to whatever anger or negativity I was feeling at the time.  The music expressed what I could not always release, and it soothed me, even if it could never fully heal me.

But as much as I could identify with lyrics like LIFE IS PAIN! or NOTHING CAN STOP THE PAIN!, I did not want my soundtrack to become a self-fulfilling prophecy of endless misery.  There were two songs in particular that I listened to that inspired me to accept pain as a part of life, not to dwell on it, but to see beyond it.  This one's going out to all the Jersey kids, you can take a guess what's coming....

Learn to live with pain and you won't complain

E-Town Concrete fucking rules.  I listened to this album constantly for practically the first year I was sick and I revisit it often.  "Learn to live with pain and you won't complain."  Hard lyric.  "That which doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, that which doesn't kill you only makes you wanna kill...one day I'll reign!"  E-Town lyrics deal with pain in its various forms throughout their records, but this first LP is especially good.  Some of the lyrics in the more straightforward rapping parts can be pretty cheesy, but I'll be damned if there aren't some retrospective, honest lyrics on this record too.  I've uploaded the entire Time 2 Shine record onto mediafire for any ETC fans who might be looking for it, or anyone else for that matter.  

Strength, born from pain, beyond that of my flesh.  

Betrayed, robbed and beaten but not defeated.

STRENGTH, BORN FROM PAIN!  Ultimately that's more or less the theme you can take away from the E-Town lyric above, but this song really takes things a step further and emphasizes what it might require to turn your pain into strength.

1. Self-reliance ("through my search for allies, I found myself")   
2. Not being a victim of your own thought process or any other aspect of one's self ("strangled by frustration, no longer will I be my victim")
3. Striving for inner peace despite the hell you've encountered ("I've got to try to find some peace and hold that peace inside before it gets too late")

Have Heart has a similar lyric about the "struggle to find the peace that exists within our hearts."  It can be difficult to find peace, because how on earth does one define it?  Can peace exist alongside pain, or anger, or other negative feelings?  I don't think peace of any kind can be acheived without the acknowledgement and acceptance of distress.   I would be lying if I told you that the feelings of anger, fear, and that indescribable pain are no longer with me, yet I am more at peace than I've ever been.  The final lyrics of "Born From Pain" describe "breathing life into my visions, forcing them into reality," from the paradise of his dreams into the inferno of his life, eventually moving his reality "into paradise, into paradise."

Well, this is sufficiently long, so thanks for sticking with me, extra special thanks for tolerating a numbered list of Earth Crisis lyrics.  Before I go I will leave you with this beautiful song that should close this post nicely.  Some funky late 70s soul.  Listen to that god damn guitar.   Joy and pain are like sunshine and rain.  Take it easy everyone.

How come the things that make us happy make us sad?  

Well it seems to me that joy and pain are like sunshine and rain.