Thursday, December 31, 2020

Goodbye 2020

Time to finally send 2020 out the door. I have to say this year was absolutely horrible and November 2020 was the lowest I’ve ever been in my life. I am battling stage 4 Lymphoma while trying to recover strength and control of my lower body after the tumor nearly paralyzed by spinal cord. During a pandemic. Living alone in a red state surrounded by many people who think Covid19 is a hoax.


This nearly broke me. There were times I didn’t know how I’d get through and I have to admit I contemplated suicide in my darkest moments. I didn’t make plans to carry it out but the thought crossed my mind. I would have reached out if those thoughts became pervasive but that is where the mind goes in moments of despair. Mental health is a thing and none of us are exempt from the effects of stress and doubt. I wasn't suicidal but I thought about suicide.


I have since regained hope and I believe there is a real possibility that I can beat cancer and get most of the use of my legs back. My cancer doctor tells me I have 80-85% chance for a complete cure. There is much uncertainty but I might survive 5, 10, 15, or 20 years. Perhaps longer. I can walk and control my body functions but I’m well below my normal strength so I have a long road ahead there as well.


I am normally a very independent person but a situation like this forces one to reach out for help. Many people were instrumental in my recovery to this point. First and foremost is my father James Klusman who dropped everything and drove twelve hours to stay with me and help me recover from the emergency surgery that saved my legs. The rest of my family has been very supportive as well as local friends who have showered me with wonderful food, provided transportation, and even helped scoop out Oscar’s litter box. The medical people who are healing my body are some of the finest I’ve encountered.


I am now through two rounds of chemo including something nicknamed “The Red Devil” that apparently chews up cancer and spits it out. Along with other parts of your body. I’m lucky that I cope with the chemo with very little side effects so far. I don’t take anything for granted but I’m hopeful that the rest of the chemo treatments are similar. I am scheduled for a PET scan next week to determine the progress of the treatments. Hopefully the scan shows the chemo is working to shrink what remains of the tumor.


I cannot thank you all enough for the love and support. I apologize for not responding to all of your messages and comments. I love and appreciate all of you. There are too many of you to name but you know who you are and I never would have made it through without you. Those of you out there suffering your own battles I’m thinking of you as well. Cry when you need to and find comfort where you can.


May 2021 be the year we get back to normal again.


Paul Klusman

PS Please do not send gifts or flowers. Instead donate to your favorite charity.



Thursday, December 10, 2020

Poetry. Inspired by Emily Dickenson.

Sunday Coffee Shop
By Paul Klusman


Some keep the Sabbath going to church

I keep it with company

Sitting in a shop there on a perch

Sipping coffee and tea.


Patrons arrive through the front door

Friends and family and lovers

Seeking refuge from the day

Amongst the fellow travelers.


I swirl the tea then I pour

Into a cup waiting gratefully

What happy elixir what warm decor

What embrace tenderly.


Some keep the Sabbath for heaven when they die

And a hope that God is near

I soak in the morning as the hours pass by

There is already heaven here.

Wednesday, December 2, 2020

Poetry. About food.

Holiday Leftovers
By Paul Klusman


The day after is always blue

Festivities now are spent

The gathering we savored yesterday

Makes way to heart’s lament.


But the friendship and the glee

The warmth and the laughter

Are baked yet into treasure

Brought home for hereafter.


Suspended in a plastic bag

To hold the bounty within

Cradled in paper plates

Wrapped in sheets of tin.


Will find it’s way into corners

Of my fridge in tiny spaces

Above the milk and beside the jam

Held there in tight embraces.


Then later the joy of eating

The sweet and savory

Standing alone in my kitchen

What better company?


Oh prepared by loving hands

Oh joy like a silent tear

Oh lovely holiday leftovers

I’ll see you again next year.