#God is so so big and as a result the horizons of science are ENORMOUS

[queenlucythevaliant]

Some off-the-cuff thoughts on overspiritualizing patterns in science

I remember watching a talk in middle school youth group about laminin, the "molecule that holds your whole body together" which was supposedly shaped like a cross. The suggestion, basically, was that the cross's image was integral to our molecular makeup and that this was part of God's design in a very Significant way. I was a burgeoning STEM girl, so I taped a diagram of a laminin up next to my bed for a while.

(As I would later find out, the whole laminin thing had/has some reach among Christians. There are T-shirts and everything)

Fast forever to spring of my freshman year as a microbiology student. I take my first course in cell bio, and I learn that laminins are actually one of many families of ECM glycoproteins. They aren't really any more significant in "holding the body together" than collagens, elastins, or fibronectins. They're very important, yes, but ultimately just one type of adhesive protein among many. And! They also do a bunch of other stuff that's way cooler than just. Adhesive.

While some laminins do bear resemblance to a cross when diagramed, it's really only because they have three subchains. Some are t-shaped, but others are y-shaped, and those don't look anything like a cross. Also, when they're in situ rather than in a nice, neat diagram, they tend to be all floppy and then they look even less cross-like.

Source

And when I learned about this I was oddly relieved. It felt like I was right about something that I couldn't even put into words, and that somehow the field of what I could call glorious had grown wider.

Christians are called to see and marvel at the presence of God in creation. I love doing that! I see God left and right through my scientific studies. Yet I also know that the human brain is pattern-seeking and that we are prone to pareidolia. I honestly don't know that there's a substantive difference between seeing the cross in some laminins and seeing Jesus on a piece of toast. It's all just seeing patterns that arise from something else (in the case of laminins, being able to bind three different molecules at once) and attributing spiritual significance. God is sovereign and maybe in the grand scope of his vision for creation it means something, but in terms of seeing God's hand in science I just find it so... small?

You could spin so many four-chain or four-domain proteins or goodness knows how many other molecules into images of the cross if you pick the right diagram. You could take every pattern of three in nature (and there are many!) as an image of the Trinity. If you really, really wanted to, you could take every six in organic chemistry as a sign of the beast, which would be hilarious in its misguidedness. It just becomes so literalistic and dull so very fast.

Look! Wouldn't you rather talk about the fact that laminins begin to appear along the edge of a developing lung at just ten weeks of human embryonic development, suggesting that they play a role in alveolar morphogenesis? That they're present in the neural stem-cell niche, which makes them an attractive candidate for helping to treat degenerative neurological conditions? I want to go back to whoever gave that talk that I watched in youth group and shake him and say, "God did that, and you're still hung up on the fact that laminins have three subchains?"

[protestant-christian]

Six reasons atheism is dead wrong

I. The universe had a beginning.

Atheists believe that the universe is eternal. We see from Edwin Hubble’s work at the Palomar Observatory (on Mt. Wilson near Los Angeles) that the universe is expanding. This expansion is confirmed through observation of the “red shift.” In physics (especially astrophysics) redshift happens when light seen coming from an object that is moving away is proportionally increased in wavelength, or shifted to the red end of the spectrum. Albert Einstein traveled to see Hubble’s work and famously said “I now see the necessity of a beginning.” Since the universe is expanding, it follows that reversing the expansion would ultimately lead to a contraction or what physicists call “the singularity” known as the beginning of the universe. The Kalam Cosmological argument (widely accepted in professional philosophy and logic communities) states that:

Everything that began to exist, has a cause.

The universe began to exist.

Therefore, the universe has a cause.

Time and space came into existence at the singularity. Since there was a cause to bring the universe into existence, it has to be a cause that is outside of time and space. As a result, the cause is both immaterial and transcendent. This is God.

II. A life-permitting universe requires that cosmology and physics are exactly tuned to support life.

This concept is called “the Anthropic Principle.” We currently understand that there are about 35 parameters that are perfectly harmonized to support life on our planet. These parameters must all be set within a very narrow range to support life. The probability of these 35 attributes being set at the correctly to support life is less than 1 in 1040 equating to essentially zero probability. Some examples of these parameters include:

The unique properties of water

Earth’s atmosphere (nitrogen, oxygen, and small amounts of other gases)

Earth’s reflectivity or “albedo”

Earth’s magnetic field

Earth’s place in the solar system

Our solar system’s place in the galaxy

The color of our sun

The force of gravity

The density of matter must equal the critical density needed to prevent the Big Crunch

The earth must be angled in its orbit perfectly to prevent temperature extremes.

Our moon must be its exact size to support the earth’s orbit.

The rate of universe expansion (cosmological constant).

This fine tuning requires a fine tuner. This is God.

III. The origin of life did not arise by chance.

There are 20 individual amino acids that are used in building proteins. Most proteins have a combination of approximately 450 amino acids. There are about 600 proteins in the most elementary cell. There are a total of about 30,000 proteins.

Darwin thought the cell was a globule and did not understand cell complexity. If you calculate the probability of individual amino acids combining to form one protein you would multiply (since sequence matters) 1/20 x 1/20 x 1/20 (for each protein) all the way out to 450 amino acids (an average protein length) equating to a probability of essentially zero. A protein that is 150 amino acids in length has a chance probability of 1 in 10145. There is zero probability that the origin of life came about by chance. When one adds the additional complexity of DNA (which goes beyond the complexity of amino acid formation), we must further reduce the probability of chance creating life. Dr. Francis Crick, Nobel Laureate and co-discoverer of DNA, acknowledged that chance played no role in creating DNA.[5] He was a philosophical atheist so he supported the idea of Panspermia (that life originated elsewhere in the universe and was transported through interstellar systems by some unknown space aliens.) Scientists agree that chance alone using matter alone has a zero probability of explaining life. The sequence hypothesis (DNA nucleotides) confirms this.

The origin of life requires both design and an animating force based on biogenesis. This force is God.

IV. The origin of information did not arise by chance.

Information is the immaterial foundation of all biological life yet it requires material to transmit through. Information requires an intelligent source. We saw this in the formation of proteins and DNA. How much does information weigh? It is a nonsensical question because information has zero weight since it has no physical properties. Highly intelligent people Don’t weigh more than others because they have more information. According to information scientist Dr. Werner Gitt, DNA is billions of times more densely packed information than is our most sophisticated technology. Darwin was ignorant about information coding. Neo-Darwinists believe that natural selection and mutation explain the advancement of new species. However, a new species requires new information. Mutations by definition are the loss of original information, not the creation of new information. Microevolution has existed for centuries (adaptation within a species, a.k.a. “breeding”). Macroevolution, one species creating a new life form, is without example in the fossil record (the Cambrian explosion showed a sudden appearance of all current life forms without transitional forms.) Darwin tried to use microevolution to explain macroevolution. His philosophical descendants today try the same trick. This deception is widely perpetrated throughout the American education system.

Information, by definition, requires a transmitter or source. There are 1080 elementary particles (electrons, etc.) in the known universe. The oldest estimate of the age of the earth is 1016 seconds[6], thereby creating 1043 number of particle interaction possibilities or 10139 maximum event probabilities in the history of the universe.

The intelligence behind the information that created the enormous but finite universe, the 30,000 proteins, the complexity and wonder of DNA, and life itself is called God. There is no naturalistic/materialist explanation that can fit within the event horizon of probabilities. Information requires intelligence. This intelligence is God.

V. Morality did not evolve physiologically by chemical or biological evolution. Morality requires a transcendent measure.

Atheists pretend that God does not exist by using the intellectual arguments of science while the root cause of their opposition to confessing God’s existence is moral. By pretending that God doesn’t exist, the atheist deludes himself into thinking that he is not morally accountable to the God that created him. Evolutionary ethicists state that there is no free will; we are the products of time and chance. There is no concept of right or wrong or ought in DNA. If our morality is evolved, who can say that torturing children for fun is wrong? Who can say that the Nazis were wrong in killing Jews? Evolutionists must say they are just doing what their genes programmed them to do. If evolutionary ethics were true, how do you explain acts of courage, valor, and sacrifice that appear noble but would not lead to reproduction (they die in battle for example.) If evolutionary ethics and morality were true, the biggest, strongest, and smartest would do anything to advance their cause. This has happened occasionally with horrors such as eugenics, Nazi Germany, and other examples of genocide, etc. If everyone chose their own morality, there would be chaos and evil rampant with no punishment and no justice. Necessary conditions for moral objectives are:

A transcendent standard of measurement

A human free will or freedom to choose

The belief that humans have intrinsic, not instrumental, value

Moral evolutionist/relativists can not ascribe right or wrong or the word “ought.” They can’t complain about justice or evil. Everybody would do just what their genes programmed them to do, based upon chemistry and evolution. The contrasting reality is that humans are free will creatures who recognize moral right and wrong and therefore are free to choose beyond their genetic endowment. This is clearly indicated in the economic and social mobility of classes and individuals who operate as moral agents. This moral awareness comes from God.

VI. The life, death, resurrection, and fulfillment of prophecy by Jesus of Nazareth requires theism.

The life and impact of Jesus is corroborated through the eyewitness testimony contained in the Bible. The biblical manuscript evidence attests to its authenticity. Extra-biblical sources, e.g., Tacitus, Thallus, Pliny the Younger, Suetonious, Phlegon, Lucian, and Josephus are just a few examples of those that wrote of the historical veracity of Jesus’ existence. The evidence for the crucifixion, the empty tomb, the post-resurrection appearances, and the transformation of the early church all best explain the circumstances surrounding the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus. Finally, there are approximately 100 prophecies in the Old Testament that relate to the first coming of Jesus. Mathematics professor Peter Stoner, author of Science Speaks, assembled other mathematicians to calculate the probability of one man fulfilling 48 of the 100 Old Testament prophecies. The resulting probability was estimated at 1 in 10157[8] This miraculous fulfillment is from God.

Conclusion The cumulative weight of evidence from cosmology, physics, biology, information science, ethics, and fulfillment of prophecy clearly establishes that God is the best explanation as the creator of the universe, of life, of information, of morality, and as the one who transcends time and space, thereby fulfilling prophecy without error.

[happybestwishes4967954]

Happy Best Wishes For Anniversary

Remembrances are continually phenomenal. It is multi day which comes once in reliably. It is multi day to express your estimations to your associate. This basic day is used to adulate love, happiness and significant lots of partnership of a couple. You should wish your friends and family on their wedding celebrations. A couple's celebration is the moment when they comprehend that their fondness and bond is amazingly strong and notable. They used to express their feelings to each other and assurance to keep their relationship continuously solid. You should be accessible there for your allies and loved ones to laud their extended lengths of warmth and trust and take a gander at these wants for married couple that can help you in imparting your assistance and love for your favored couple.

Couples make this day a significant one and benefit as much as possible from their recognition by celebrating and imparting their love and bliss towards each other. It strengthens their relationship. Each couple adulates this day in a substitute way. Some compliment it by going on an excursion objective, others by fraternizing at home. It is a champion among the best days for the couple which solicitations to be praised.

Recognition Needs for Couple:

Here are some marvelous messages and wishes that can help you recorded as a printed copy some celebration lines in a card for a couple that you can send to the loved ones on their remembrances to fill their heart with delight significant. Wish the best on their marriage and shower your huge favors upon them.

I get the certifiable criticalness of wedding when I see you. U are the best instance of an ideal couple. Happy recognition to you both.

Ur relationship is so wistful. It is much equivalent to an endeavor having opinion, love and care for each other. I am sure that u will have sweet and loving memories when u get old. Happy Celebration!

May the sparkle of ur associate's grip be more sizzling than the estimation of sitting before a popping stack on a cold night. Perky first recognition.

Whatever the presence offers u, I understand that u will recognize everything in light of the fact that u believe in spirits and love in ur heart.

There isn't any all the more staggering, big-hearted and captivating relationship, association or association than a fair marriage. Perky Remembrance both of you!

It started with a fundamental ring,

U advanced toward turning into a couple,

U progressed to being watchmen

nd regardless of all that you're nearest friends for eternity. – Energetic Recognition to a phenomenal couple!

Merry recognition day! It is an uncommon happiness to wish you both this mind boggling day of your celebration. May God support u both and make ur association more grounded.

You both are exceptionally lucky to have a perfect better half for both of you. On your day, I wish you a phenomenal married love ahead. Happy remembrance to you both!

U two have this marriage thing leveled out. What a mind boggling capacity to pro! Very much done!

As a couple, you are cuter than Mike and Molly, cooler than Leonard and Penny, more wistful than Ross and Rachel and way more made for each other than Homer and Marge. Happy remembrance.

All the best to both of u on your remembrance, May the fondness that you share Last ur lifetime through, As u make a brilliant pair. Happy Recognition.

Wishing u cheers and much joy as you acclaim one more year of your radiant experience together.

Merry Wedding Remembrance to both of u! May you get significantly progressively extended lengths of conjunction to celebrate with your love getting more grounded and more grounded with time.

Merry wedding Remembrance to the delightful couple ever! U have filled ur lives with charm and I understand that u will never lose this affiliation.

U both are not jst some other beautiful couple. In ur science, there is something unprecedented. Essentially looking both talk like two youngsters in veneration, impacts it to create the impression that your pair was facilitated by the sky above. Sprightly remembrance.

One more year is passed and you kept showing to all of us that luv is veritable – Playful Wedding Remembrance to a stunning couple!

For specific people, a perfect marriage is a dream, dream, legend, story or false desire. Nevertheless, for me, it is a certified article which exists between you both. Happy recognition both of you!

Ur marriage made all that you would ever need work out obviously, together you have made a wonderful family, u have been regarded by God.

Sending u both loving wishes on your celebration, may it be something so remarkable.

Time passes, Luv remains! Minutes pass, memories remain! May the magnificent memory of the day when u started your voyage keep your association tough and unbreakable until the finish of time! Enormous measures of blessings on your Wedding Celebration day!

All through the ages, different people have looked anyway have never found such a friendship as both of you offer. May u be diligently respected with unimaginable luv and delight. Happy Remembrance.

May the bonds that interface u simply brace each day, giving warmth and comfort to everlastingly and multi day to cum.

Wish you Ecstasy, luv u people the most… God Support you with the BEST for the duration of regular day to day existence.

May your reliably be as special as your huge day. Wishing u both a perky celebration.

Ur couple is so heavenly and ur satisfaction can be seen wonderfully from your smiling appearances. You are the most cheerful couple I have ever watched. I wish you a merry and valuing life ahead, keep luving each other till the completion of life. Cheery Celebration to the luvly couple!

I luv to see couples who love each other aimlessly. A year has passed and your fondness is up 'til now same for each other. May your reliably take after ur wedding day.

Sending u both worshiping wishes on your remembrance, may it be something so unprecedented.

I differentiate the resonation of ur love and the sound of an ocean. Since both are unfaltering. Happy Celebration to a surprising couple!

Couples are made in heaven and celebrated on earth. May this celebration of ur wedding recognition open new horizons of ur triumphs!

It's definitely not hard to fall in luv yet its difficult to keep up the relationship. In any case, u people have done it. Wish you a merry marriage celebration to both of u.

It is extraordinary to see a couple that after so long still treats every single day as it is both their first and the last. U truly are a manual for seek after. Energetic celebration!

Wishing you fragrance of roses, delicacy of lilies and rapture overflowing with greenery walled in areas on ur loveliest day! Happy Marriage Day Wishes to u!

Looking marriage and seeing your boundless luv, I believe that social associations are made in heaven. Happy Celebration wonderful couple!

The best of remembrances are a result of conquering the presence's most horrendous minutes… inseparable and heart to heart. Happy celebration.

Most hitched couples hear each other's words, you listen to one another's heartbeats. Most of them regard each other's looks, you supplement each other's spirits. A substantial part of them center around each others' lives, you have concentrated on each others' dreams. Happy remembrance to a radiant couple.

Happy remembrance. I luv to see that notwithstanding you revere each other by heart after this much time. May you get a ton progressively merry minutes. Playful Celebration to an unfathomable couple!

Sending all my luv and all the best as u compliment one more year of reverence and fellowship for one another. May you love continue holding strong and create with the demise of the ages. Perky Recognition!

Here is wishing you both the best life conveys to the table and a long and charmed concurrence.

Most sweltering wishes to the heavenly two of u on your Remembrance!

Well done for another heavenly year of falling in luv with each other. Peppy Celebration Sweetheart!

LetsMore.....

[wendyimmiller]

Gardening For Health – Part II

So long ago that I can’t remember when, I gave up on the idea of having any real pride in myself. It wasn’t what anyone would call a decision. No momentous occasion or anything. I just don’t really know that pride ever mattered that much to me. If I had any left, whatever there was was finished off by four years at a Jesuit college. Because, in case you don’t know this, Jesuits exist to convince young minds that one’s trajectory through life is subject to so many random social, physical, mental, and economic rolls of the dice that one’s own accomplishments are just a small part of a very large equation. That said, I do my best, take advantage of the good breaks and shake off the bad, and, more recently, try to live a good enough life. So when and if I take my own pride into consideration these days, it’s less about something good I’ve done and more about something stupid I hopefully didn’t. “Hey y’all, look at me” kinds of things. Yeah, my pride is mostly focused on keeping those to a bare minimum.

That being said, I must share my proudest moment ever. It happened two years ago, and I was on drugs. Morphine, to be exact. I was just coming around following surgery and hazily listening to a conversation between the nurse and my wife. At some point the nurse happened to mention that my urine had good color. My urine had good color! Lord have mercy, I almost burst! Too far gone to speak, I simply basked in the moment like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day balloon filled to floating with enormous, joyful lightness. Even now, soberly aware of the ridiculousness of it, I can still feel a little pulse of that joy. Such was just one of countless anomalous moments—sometimes surreal, usually all too real—that I went through while “surviving” c-c-cancer.

A cancer diagnosis launches you on an imagination-fueled, internet-misinformed, emotional and intellectual odyssey, even as your body suddenly becomes a whack-a-mole game for doctors and technicians. The word “survive’ is accurate. Really nails it. Because whether you make it don’t, surviving the process is about all you really manage.  Everyone says great upbeat stuff like, “You’ve got this”, or, “You’ll kick butt!” but all you really do is what you’re told. You go to appointments. Lots of appointments. You take drugs. You do treatments. Go in for tests. Wait and wait and wait on results. Have surgery. You never really feel like you’re in control or doing anything to impose your will on the situation. At least I didn’t. Never had that LeBron James taking over the game for a win moment. Sure, I prayed, remembering every time I did all those friends and family I’ve prayed for that never got better. Some people try to become their own experts. I didn’t bother. Nor did I have any faith in miracle diets, exercises, meditations, trinkets, powders, or crystals. Nope. I just hit my marks, relied on 21st century medical science, and hoped for the best possible outcome.

Longwood.

Oh, and I checked my dignity at the door. Big time. Prostate cancer requires this, in my opinion, more than most cancers. Doctors, nurses, interns, students, spouses, cleaning crews, paid spectators, preschool classes, all parading through and crowding around in small exam rooms while probing things are going in and other things are coming out. I found myself here, my clothes over there, people taking fluids, handing them off, and sometimes ducking them as they fly across the room. The worst was when I was wearing a hospital gown that simply wouldn’t stay tied shut and had a mile or two of corridor to cover between different exams with three waiting rooms, a news crew, a gift shop, and a cafeteria along the way. Eventually, I was so devoid of dignity that–and this is true–I crafted a euphoric group text to my wife, mother, and sisters that I had finally had my first poop since surgery.

I should probably tell you now that I had a very treatable form of prostate cancer. The surgery was successful. No radiation. No chemo. They tell me I have less than a 1% chance of dealing with it again. I was and am extremely fortunate and very grateful. I’m almost embarrassed to call myself a “survivor”, knowing that so many others have gone through so much worse. Still, I’ve got to say the process did take over nine months. Six months of that fell into what my sister, the hospice administrator/RN, calls the “information void”. This translates as “the imagination run amok period.”  So when the doctor says it could possibly be cancer but probably isn’t, the mind fills in the gray area with, “Oh God, it’s cancer.” When he says, “You have cancer, but you’ll be fine,” that means, “Start planning your funeral.” When the technician refuses to venture an opinion on a CT scan, deferring to the doctor who will eventually read it, the only possible explanation is that they’re thinking, “I don’t get paid enough to tell people this kind of crap.” Six months of this! And my mind never wearied of tumbling like a gymnast through all the permutations. But, eventually, it all got sorted out. I went in, had a prostatectomy twofered with three open hernia repairs, experienced the world’s proudest urine-related moment, and then I went home to keep on keeping on, using as a role model any dog’s total mood transformation following a cone-of-shame removal.

All of my follow up test results since have been good, and I’m grateful that my situation had a great outcome.  I’m well aware that it isn’t always so. My youngest sister died of cancer when she was 25 years old. Cancer has been all around me my entire life, and it has almost always meant that bad news gets worse. During my six or so months of information void, a friend was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and died. During the hours and hours of time I sat sagging in waiting rooms and hospitals, I tried very hard not to overly notice others with situations far, far worse than mine.

Throughout the process my garden was a crutch. Before an important appointment or after a bad one, you would sure as hell find me walking around and finding distraction or comfort or hope and sometimes God in my little scratches of design—favorite plants gathered in the sunlight, sprouting from the good, rich earth.  My family and friends were wonderful, and their love and support was a given, but my garden was where I could go to be alone, to process, and to pull it all back together. And I wondered, while I kept my eyes dutifully aimed at my phone in dismal waiting rooms, if these other patients had gardens or some other green spaces into which they could get their heads out of prognoses and patient plans and into a place that allowed them to feel the planet and gather perspective?

A green roof at Mercy Hospital West in Cincinnati. Many rooms look out onto this.

The room where I spent five days on morphine, consisted of four walls, a bed, a TV, an IV stand, and a myriad of discarded Jell-O cups. That was about it. Since then, I’ve toured a few newer hospitals that were built so every room looks out onto some form of nature, whether it be a woods, a green roof, or gardens. I think this is great, and I believe the research which suggests that such investment pays off with better outcomes, quicker recoveries, and even fewer pain meds. I believe that with every fiber in my being.

The Great Rift Valley in Kenya, on the road into Nairobi.

Great works of art can take your breath away, and make you feel, think, or even just stare without words to utter. Buildings soar and amaze. Cathedrals inspire. The works of Shakespeare have stood as pinnacles of literature for five centuries. Any of the world’s religions can guide, console, and offer hope. And all of that is good stuff. Important stuff. But I recently stood on a cliff overlooking the Rift Valley in Kenya and looked out over the very cradle of mankind, and it still looks every bit the part. Horizon to horizon of primitive, verdant wonder. Wild. Big. Beautiful. Primordial. I get goosebumps just remembering. I can’t imagine I ever won’t. For it is from that ground that we as a species came. Those savannas, the sights and smells, are still in our DNA. Everybody should stand there once. Everybody should feel that feeling. To share in what we all share. And as a gardener I couldn’t help but to think that the Garden of Eden, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, the great early gardens of Islam, the Temple gardens of China and Japan, Versailles, Longwood, Sissinghurst, my garden, your garden are the human spirit’s attempt to momentarily capture that lightning in a bottle. To remind us of home. To fill our hearts. Feed our bodies. Warm our souls. Allow us to grow even as we’re dying.

Versailles.

Gardening For Health – Part II originally appeared on Garden Rant on July 18, 2018.

from Gardening http://www.gardenrant.com/2018/07/gardening-for-health-part-ii.html via http://www.rssmix.com/

[athertonjc]

Gardening For Health – Part II

So long ago that I can’t remember when, I gave up on the idea of having any real pride in myself. It wasn’t what anyone would call a decision. No momentous occasion or anything. I just don’t really know that pride ever mattered that much to me. If I had any left, whatever there was was finished off by four years at a Jesuit college. Because, in case you don’t know this, Jesuits exist to convince young minds that one’s trajectory through life is subject to so many random social, physical, mental, and economic rolls of the dice that one’s own accomplishments are just a small part of a very large equation. That said, I do my best, take advantage of the good breaks and shake off the bad, and, more recently, try to live a good enough life. So when and if I take my own pride into consideration these days, it’s less about something good I’ve done and more about something stupid I hopefully didn’t. “Hey y’all, look at me” kinds of things. Yeah, my pride is mostly focused on keeping those to a bare minimum.

That being said, I must share my proudest moment ever. It happened two years ago, and I was on drugs. Morphine, to be exact. I was just coming around following surgery and hazily listening to a conversation between the nurse and my wife. At some point the nurse happened to mention that my urine had good color. My urine had good color! Lord have mercy, I almost burst! Too far gone to speak, I simply basked in the moment like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day balloon filled to floating with enormous, joyful lightness. Even now, soberly aware of the ridiculousness of it, I can still feel a little pulse of that joy. Such was just one of countless anomalous moments—sometimes surreal, usually all too real—that I went through while “surviving” c-c-cancer.

A cancer diagnosis launches you on an imagination-fueled, internet-misinformed, emotional and intellectual odyssey, even as your body suddenly becomes a whack-a-mole game for doctors and technicians. The word “survive’ is accurate. Really nails it. Because whether you make it or don’t, surviving the process is about all you really manage.  Everyone says great upbeat stuff like, “You’ve got this”, or, “You’ll kick butt!” but all you really do is what you’re told. You go to appointments. Lots of appointments. You take drugs. You do treatments. Go in for tests. Wait and wait and wait on results. Have surgery. You never really feel like you’re in control or doing anything to impose your will on the situation. At least I didn’t. Never had that LeBron James taking over the game for a win moment. Sure, I prayed, remembering every time I did all those friends and family I’ve prayed for that never got better. Some people try to become their own experts. I didn’t bother. Nor did I have any faith in miracle diets, exercises, meditations, trinkets, powders, or crystals. Nope. I just hit my marks, relied on 21st century medical science, and hoped for the best possible outcome.

Longwood.

Oh, and I checked my dignity at the door. Big time. Prostate cancer requires this, in my opinion, more than most cancers. Doctors, nurses, interns, students, spouses, cleaning crews, paid spectators, preschool classes, all parading through and crowding around in small exam rooms while probing things are going in and other things are coming out. I found myself here, my clothes over there, people taking fluids, handing them off, and sometimes ducking them as they fly across the room. The worst was when I was wearing a hospital gown that simply wouldn’t stay tied shut and had a mile or two of corridor to cover between different exams with three waiting rooms, a news crew, a gift shop, and a cafeteria along the way. Eventually, I was so devoid of dignity that–and this is true–I crafted a euphoric group text to my wife, mother, and sisters that I had finally had my first poop since surgery.

I should probably tell you now that I had a very treatable form of prostate cancer. The surgery was successful. No radiation. No chemo. They tell me I have less than a 1% chance of dealing with it again. I was and am extremely fortunate and very grateful. I’m almost embarrassed to call myself a “survivor”, knowing that so many others have gone through so much worse. Still, I’ve got to say the process did take over nine months. Six months of that fell into what my sister, the hospice administrator/RN, calls the “information void”. This translates as “the imagination run amok period.”  So when the doctor says it could possibly be cancer but probably isn’t, the mind fills in the gray area with, “Oh God, it’s cancer.” When he says, “You have cancer, but you’ll be fine,” that means, “Start planning your funeral.” When the technician refuses to venture an opinion on a CT scan, deferring to the doctor who will eventually read it, the only possible explanation is that they’re thinking, “I don’t get paid enough to tell people this kind of crap.” Six months of this! And my mind never wearied of tumbling like a gymnast through all the permutations. But, eventually, it all got sorted out. I went in, had a prostatectomy twofered with three open hernia repairs, experienced the world’s proudest urine-related moment, and then I went home to keep on keeping on, using as a role model any dog’s total mood transformation following a cone-of-shame removal.

All of my follow up test results since have been good, and I’m grateful that my situation had a great outcome.  I’m well aware that it isn’t always so. My youngest sister died of cancer when she was 25 years old. Cancer has been all around me my entire life, and it has almost always meant that bad news gets worse. During my six or so months of information void, a friend was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and died. During the hours and hours of time I sat sagging in waiting rooms and hospitals, I tried very hard not to overly notice others with situations far, far worse than mine.

Throughout the process my garden was a crutch. Before an important appointment or after a bad one, you would sure as hell find me walking around and finding distraction or comfort or hope and sometimes God in my little scratches of design—favorite plants gathered in the sunlight, sprouting from the good, rich earth.  My family and friends were wonderful, and their love and support was a given, but my garden was where I could go to be alone, to process, and to pull it all back together. And I wondered, while I kept my eyes dutifully aimed at my phone in dismal waiting rooms, if these other patients had gardens or some other green spaces into which they could get their heads out of prognoses and patient plans and into a place that allowed them to feel the planet and gather perspective?

A green roof at Mercy Hospital West in Cincinnati. Many rooms look out onto this.

The room where I spent five days on morphine, consisted of four walls, a bed, a TV, an IV stand, and a myriad of discarded Jell-O cups. That was about it. Since then, I’ve toured a few newer hospitals that were built so every room looks out onto some form of nature, whether it be a woods, a green roof, or gardens. I think this is great, and I believe the research which suggests that such investment pays off with better outcomes, quicker recoveries, and even fewer pain meds. I believe that with every fiber in my being.

The Great Rift Valley in Kenya, on the road into Nairobi.

Great works of art can take your breath away, and make you feel, think, or even just stare without words to utter. Buildings soar and amaze. Cathedrals inspire. The works of Shakespeare have stood as pinnacles of literature for five centuries. Any of the world’s religions can guide, console, and offer hope. And all of that is good stuff. Important stuff. But I recently stood on a cliff overlooking the Rift Valley in Kenya and looked out over the very cradle of mankind, and it still looks every bit the part. Horizon to horizon of primitive, verdant wonder. Wild. Big. Beautiful. Primordial. I get goosebumps just remembering. I can’t imagine I ever won’t. For it is from that ground that we as a species came. Those savannas, the sights and smells, are still in our DNA. Everybody should stand there once. Everybody should feel that feeling. To share in what we all share. And as a gardener I couldn’t help but to think that the Garden of Eden, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, the great early gardens of Islam, the Temple gardens of China and Japan, Versailles, Longwood, Sissinghurst, my garden, your garden are the human spirit’s attempt to momentarily capture that lightning in a bottle. To remind us of home. To fill our hearts. Feed our bodies. Warm our souls. Allow us to grow even as we’re dying.

Versailles.

Gardening For Health – Part II originally appeared on Garden Rant on July 18, 2018.

from Garden Rant http://www.gardenrant.com/2018/07/gardening-for-health-part-ii.html

[turfandlawncare]

Gardening For Health – Part II

So long ago that I can’t remember when, I gave up on the idea of having any real pride in myself. It wasn’t what anyone would call a decision. No momentous occasion or anything. I just don’t really know that pride ever mattered that much to me. If I had any left, whatever there was was finished off by four years at a Jesuit college. Because, in case you don’t know this, Jesuits exist to convince young minds that one’s trajectory through life is subject to so many random social, physical, mental, and economic rolls of the dice that one’s own accomplishments are just a small part of a very large equation. That said, I do my best, take advantage of the good breaks and shake off the bad, and, more recently, try to live a good enough life. So when and if I take my own pride into consideration these days, it’s less about something good I’ve done and more about something stupid I hopefully didn’t. “Hey y’all, look at me” kinds of things. Yeah, my pride is mostly focused on keeping those to a bare minimum.

That being said, I must share my proudest moment ever. It happened two years ago, and I was on drugs. Morphine, to be exact. I was just coming around following surgery and hazily listening to a conversation between the nurse and my wife. At some point the nurse happened to mention that my urine had good color. My urine had good color! Lord have mercy, I almost burst! Too far gone to speak, I simply basked in the moment like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day balloon filled to floating with enormous, joyful lightness. Even now, soberly aware of the ridiculousness of it, I can still feel a little pulse of that joy. Such was just one of countless anomalous moments—sometimes surreal, usually all too real—that I went through while “surviving” c-c-cancer.

A cancer diagnosis launches you on an imagination-fueled, internet-misinformed, emotional and intellectual odyssey, even as your body suddenly becomes a whack-a-mole game for doctors and technicians. The word “survive’ is accurate. Really nails it. Because whether you make it or don’t, surviving the process is about all you really manage.  Everyone says great upbeat stuff like, “You’ve got this”, or, “You’ll kick butt!” but all you really do is what you’re told. You go to appointments. Lots of appointments. You take drugs. You do treatments. Go in for tests. Wait and wait and wait on results. Have surgery. You never really feel like you’re in control or doing anything to impose your will on the situation. At least I didn’t. Never had that LeBron James taking over the game for a win moment. Sure, I prayed, remembering every time I did all those friends and family I’ve prayed for that never got better. Some people try to become their own experts. I didn’t bother. Nor did I have any faith in miracle diets, exercises, meditations, trinkets, powders, or crystals. Nope. I just hit my marks, relied on 21st century medical science, and hoped for the best possible outcome.

Longwood.

Oh, and I checked my dignity at the door. Big time. Prostate cancer requires this, in my opinion, more than most cancers. Doctors, nurses, interns, students, spouses, cleaning crews, paid spectators, preschool classes, all parading through and crowding around in small exam rooms while probing things are going in and other things are coming out. I found myself here, my clothes over there, people taking fluids, handing them off, and sometimes ducking them as they fly across the room. The worst was when I was wearing a hospital gown that simply wouldn’t stay tied shut and had a mile or two of corridor to cover between different exams with three waiting rooms, a news crew, a gift shop, and a cafeteria along the way. Eventually, I was so devoid of dignity that–and this is true–I crafted a euphoric group text to my wife, mother, and sisters that I had finally had my first poop since surgery.

I should probably tell you now that I had a very treatable form of prostate cancer. The surgery was successful. No radiation. No chemo. They tell me I have less than a 1% chance of dealing with it again. I was and am extremely fortunate and very grateful. I’m almost embarrassed to call myself a “survivor”, knowing that so many others have gone through so much worse. Still, I’ve got to say the process did take over nine months. Six months of that fell into what my sister, the hospice administrator/RN, calls the “information void”. This translates as “the imagination run amok period.”  So when the doctor says it could possibly be cancer but probably isn’t, the mind fills in the gray area with, “Oh God, it’s cancer.” When he says, “You have cancer, but you’ll be fine,” that means, “Start planning your funeral.” When the technician refuses to venture an opinion on a CT scan, deferring to the doctor who will eventually read it, the only possible explanation is that they’re thinking, “I don’t get paid enough to tell people this kind of crap.” Six months of this! And my mind never wearied of tumbling like a gymnast through all the permutations. But, eventually, it all got sorted out. I went in, had a prostatectomy twofered with three open hernia repairs, experienced the world’s proudest urine-related moment, and then I went home to keep on keeping on, using as a role model any dog’s total mood transformation following a cone-of-shame removal.

All of my follow up test results since have been good, and I’m grateful that my situation had a great outcome.  I’m well aware that it isn’t always so. My youngest sister died of cancer when she was 25 years old. Cancer has been all around me my entire life, and it has almost always meant that bad news gets worse. During my six or so months of information void, a friend was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and died. During the hours and hours of time I sat sagging in waiting rooms and hospitals, I tried very hard not to overly notice others with situations far, far worse than mine.

Throughout the process my garden was a crutch. Before an important appointment or after a bad one, you would sure as hell find me walking around and finding distraction or comfort or hope and sometimes God in my little scratches of design—favorite plants gathered in the sunlight, sprouting from the good, rich earth.  My family and friends were wonderful, and their love and support was a given, but my garden was where I could go to be alone, to process, and to pull it all back together. And I wondered, while I kept my eyes dutifully aimed at my phone in dismal waiting rooms, if these other patients had gardens or some other green spaces into which they could get their heads out of prognoses and patient plans and into a place that allowed them to feel the planet and gather perspective?

A green roof at Mercy Hospital West in Cincinnati. Many rooms look out onto this.

The room where I spent five days on morphine, consisted of four walls, a bed, a TV, an IV stand, and a myriad of discarded Jell-O cups. That was about it. Since then, I’ve toured a few newer hospitals that were built so every room looks out onto some form of nature, whether it be a woods, a green roof, or gardens. I think this is great, and I believe the research which suggests that such investment pays off with better outcomes, quicker recoveries, and even fewer pain meds. I believe that with every fiber in my being.

The Great Rift Valley in Kenya, on the road into Nairobi.

Great works of art can take your breath away, and make you feel, think, or even just stare without words to utter. Buildings soar and amaze. Cathedrals inspire. The works of Shakespeare have stood as pinnacles of literature for five centuries. Any of the world’s religions can guide, console, and offer hope. And all of that is good stuff. Important stuff. But I recently stood on a cliff overlooking the Rift Valley in Kenya and looked out over the very cradle of mankind, and it still looks every bit the part. Horizon to horizon of primitive, verdant wonder. Wild. Big. Beautiful. Primordial. I get goosebumps just remembering. I can’t imagine I ever won’t. For it is from that ground that we as a species came. Those savannas, the sights and smells, are still in our DNA. Everybody should stand there once. Everybody should feel that feeling. To share in what we all share. And as a gardener I couldn’t help but to think that the Garden of Eden, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, the great early gardens of Islam, the Temple gardens of China and Japan, Versailles, Longwood, Sissinghurst, my garden, your garden are the human spirit’s attempt to momentarily capture that lightning in a bottle. To remind us of home. To fill our hearts. Feed our bodies. Warm our souls. Allow us to grow even as we’re dying.

Versailles.

Gardening For Health – Part II originally appeared on Garden Rant on July 18, 2018.

from Garden Rant https://ift.tt/2uvrx2o