levitra - buy levitra - order levitra - levitra online - levitra mastercard As many of you know, Whitney moved to Portland in July.  She moved back home on November 11th.  After only two days in Ashland, she was admitted to the hospital, and it was said that she might not last even that first night there.  She spent two weeks with hospice workers and family managing her constant pain.  Loved ones gathered, friends and family held a bonfire in the woods to think of letting go.  But then, she began eating, got up on her own, struggled through the fog of medications to communicate, and she was able to leave the hospital for home on Tuesday, November 27th, once more proving that she just does not fit on any bell curve!

The wish of her family is that you continue to love and pray for her and for them, while also gifting them with the precious privacy they need. Whitney’s wish is that you find ways to hold each other.  There are only a handful of people who are interacting with Whitney now.  Her care team is small and intimate with only a few who are co-coordinating with the community to organize resources and take care of family needs.  The rest of us must find other ways to hold Whitney.  This post will hopefully help you to do that and give people a way to share her love and strength.  Please know that Whitney’s situation changes everyday, so it is impossible to give you a current status of her condition here.

I left off writing last spring when Whitney was experiencing cycles of pain and comfort that were getting shorter and shorter.  As always, her goal has been to continue to experience life and collect as many of those experiences as possible.  In this last year, angels have come to help her in this process, sharing with her giggles and laughter, sharing sorrows, pain, and dreams.

Her dream of moving away from home came true when she moved in with her dear friend, Anna Horn and Anna’s sister Katie. It was summertime, when life could slow down, and Katie and Anna settled into Whitney’s rhythms. Katie and Anna incorporated that tempo and allowed it to become the norm. When she would forget something, they would artfully weave it back into the conversation, usually with laughter, and Whitney was able to feel like something other than the “sick girl.”

Here’s a glimpse of how it looked:  Katie and Anna love to cook; Whitney loves to eat–that’s a simple equation.   Whitney was able, on occasion, to wander Portland on her own, take a trip to the store or to a movie.  Waking at 3 a.m. to make sure Whitney took her meds, helping her cope with occasional pain episodes in the night, shopping, and cleaning were all tasks that the girls took up willingly: and they thrived.  Other arduous duties included watching movies, camping, taking trips to the coast, eating Ben and Jerry’s, hitting Fred Meyer–girl stuff, sister stuff–secret language times where a single word held all sorts of meaning and could trigger peals of laughter.  Anna and  Katie’s mom, Janet, said that when you walked into their home you just naturally adopted a slower pace, adjusting, waiting to be transported by laughter at any moment!  As summer waned, real life kicked in; Anna went off to Ghana, Katie was back in school.  The slow pace of summer couldn’t continue, and all three of the girls reluctantly woke up to the fact that this couldn’t go on forever.  Before summer “officially” ended, Whitney was able to make another trip to New York, where she visited her other angel, Anthony, who encouraged her to continue exploring.  During her stay they took in the city together, went to a Broadway play, dressed up for the symphony, strolled in Central Park and enjoyed mile high desserts at Serendipity.  Anthony has been a constant friend to Whitney.  His goal has been like hers–to help her experience everything possible and some things that seemed beyond possibility.  He has been with her constantly since she went to the hospital and will stay with her.

So why is Whitney rallying once again?  Why have there been three times when we’ve been told, “this is the end?”  I don’t know the answer for sure.  But here’s one way to think about it.  What if, in ‘The Boy who Cried Wolf’ story, instead of casting the boy as the foolish prankster, we reframe the story thus:  A little boy was tending the sheep for his village.  He noticed that the villagers had little to do with one another, interacting only when necessary.  They cared about one another, but forgot to care for each other.

And so, without really devising a plan, without much thought at all, he called out “danger” in the most powerful word he knew, “wolf,” and the people came running.  They rallied around, they made plans, they delegated tasks, they worked together.  Then, not perceiving the danger he had seen, and certainly no wolf, they went back to their work, forgetting each other again.

Most of us have looked at Whitney’s journey as that of a tenacious girl, struggling multiple times to pull herself out of ever more grim spirals, but perhaps the reality is closer to this new version of the boy who cried wolf.

Whitney’s life struggle can be seen in the context of this reworked fairytale. It’s almost as if she unconsciously orchestrates the traumatic episodes in order to pull together the people who are connected by loving her. Her mother reports that even though her already massive medications have now been doubled, she still has lucid times, and in those moments she wonders in confusion about why people who profess to love each other don’t make time in their work and their play to avert the danger that Whitney perceives of losing touch with one another. It is her greatest wish and biggest concern as she faces her imminent mortality–that people find better ways to hold each other.  Is she crying ‘wolf’ in the traditional sense?  Or is she heralding a danger she perceives and we do not?

And so as we wonder what we can do to voice, to show, and to experience our love for Whitney, it would be her wish that we would voice, show, and experience our love for one another.  Can we make changes in our lifestyles that would actually incorporate more of holding one another?

Whitney has now reached another goal–that of transitioning home from the hospital.   She called to us, and we’ve gathered again, thinking this was the time.   If the end of her mortal life is imminent, as some are convinced and others reject, then she is now home where she wants to be.  She is still SOO Whitney; still working to finish tasks she’s set for herself, still eating ice cream.  It seems almost impossible that she can even be coherent, but she is.  It is amazing that she ever got up again, but she did.  Her tenacity, her will, are still astonishing.  What ever her time schedule, it is her own.

I wrote this post 2 months ago, but due to a communication glitch it never got posted.  So, rather than leaving it all unsaid (simply because it’s now obsolete) I decided to post it anyway.  Things are not as rosy now as when I wrote this, but at least this will give you a picture of that time.  I’ll try to get more current information soon and post again.  This is what I wrote in mid-March:

Apparently I made you a piecrust promise (easily made, easily broken) when I said there would be weekly updates on Whitney’s website.  But life never goes as planned, especially where Whitney is involved.  She is a walking anomaly, and very slippery to pin down.  First, rather than fading as expected, she rallied and has been on all sorts of adventures!  That’s marvelous and unexpected and inexplicable indeed (makes it kind of tough however if you’re trying to catch up with her for an update).  Second, they no longer have Internet at home, and third Whitney no longer has her cell phone (sound familiar?? cell-phone privileges getting taken away as a result of going over minute limits one month too many).  But I’ve now communicated with Ami, and Whitney and have the latest, ever-changing saga.

While we all envisioned her wasting away, Whitney was making a turnaround, at least in her ability to manage and function, and perhaps even in her actual health.  Soon after the last website post, friends and family came from far to visit.  They were able to observe patterns and give input.  Some stayed up at night with Whitney, helping with meds and seeing through fresh eyes, observing from a new perspective and catching cues.  Many folks from here brought food and helped out in many ways from the sidelines, easing family burdens. Between those efforts and the help of the hospice workers, they were able to get meds balanced to reduce pain and control itching without inducing lethargy or anxiety (sounds like a pharmaceutical ad).  Whitney actually slept through three nights in a row.  As she began to feel better physically, she also began to feel sad that many dear ones had come from far away to say good-bye.  She felt it was premature, and now she had nothing to look forward to.  She was challenged and encouraged by those around her to make something happen, and she immediately decided to try to travel to New York to visit dear friends Kristen and Anthony to explore a whole new world.  Her Uncle Brad, Paul’s brother, was able to get her a ticket.  Kristen and Anthony knew how to take care of her (having been here and been part of the up-with-her-in-the-night crew), so when she got there she would be all right.  It was only the travel that was an issue.  They rigged up an envelope with detailed instructions which she wore around her neck, and a bag with all her meds around her waist should anything happen en route or while there.  Can you picture this petite, rather wan young woman sporting a large envelope with the words IN CASE OF EMERGENCY as her New York accessory?, quite the fashion statement.  Whitney, undaunted as usual, was on an adventure, leaving a lot of folks behind with their jaws dropped open.  I was one of them.  She went where?!?  How?  The last time I saw her . . .

In New York Whitney did some of the typical New York stuff, though the weather was below freezing the whole time; she saw a Broadway play for instance, rode the subway, visited Times Square and Rockefeller Center.  But for the most part she was happy to be anonymous, in a new place breathing new air, seeing new things.  They went to restaurants and worked on art projects and just lived.  Everything freed her with its newness.  They even tried being outrageous, to see if anyone noticed or cared, and of course, in New York, no one batted an eye at crazy folks running down the street screaming.  Anna, the hospice nurse said that Whitney was able to fuel this turn around because of the adrenalin and the feel-better hormones released from the travel, the stay, the adventure.  So her question to Whitney upon her return was, what’s next? 

Of course feeling better doesn’t mean all is well.  There have been no scans in the last year, and so no one knows exactly what the tumors are doing.  They’re now sometimes palpable under arms and elsewhere, but that changes.  Nor does it mean that the itching and pain are always gone.  It means that meds can work, sleep revives, and dreams enliven.

Whitney arrived back in San Francisco and Ami and Isaac were there at “Mucka’s” (Whitney’s name for her grandmother) to bring her home.  But Whit really wanted to drive home alone.  They looked for a break in the weather, and, once again she was off, driving alone, feeling free.  Some might wonder, but was that safe?  What if something had happened to her?  Why take all these risks?  I guess the answer to that is, no, it wasn’t safe, it was reckless, and yet what could happen, she might die?   Hmmmm   Oh ya, that’s already her reality.  So, when you picture a young woman, cruising the freeway past lake Shasta and then Mt. Shasta, what could make more sense? 

Whitney is back home, excited and happy about her accomplishments, a different person, some of the lightness back in her eyes.  She went for a long bike ride the other day, “panting like an old lady,” she said!  She’s still taking the steroids and other meds to deal with and mask the pain and itching, and to keep her balanced.  She’s catching up with her projects, music collages and journal collages, clearing her room and reclaiming it from the sick room, exercising to exorcise the old lady from the bike. While on one day a hospice nurse encourages Whit to figure out what her funeral might look like, on another she is pushing her to come up with the next adventure. Whitney’s toying with spending the summer in Portland with friends from here.  She plans on making smaller trips as energy allows.  The ups and downs of the last 5 years are basically continuing, never clearly black or white, never predictable.  Some days/nights are great, others hard and painful.  The story is about the same as it’s been, but more intense, more condensed, tighter cycles.

I know Whitney has read what’s on the website and loves your voices.  Certainly this new picture is much more inviting to linger with than the last, not the gloomy black picture we’ve seen, nor the full recovery we’ve hoped for, but an in between that’s colored fairly brightly for today.  I invite you to enjoy it.

Dear Whitney family and friends,I’m a family friend, and I volunteered to write this email, and then to post regular (hopefully weekly) updates on the whitneywellness.org website to keep people informed in the future. We’ll address more specific details on the website as we respond to any questions you add there.