Cycle 2: week 2, day 1, second try

Chemo today. This counts as cycle2, day 8.... which I call week 2, day 1. Last week was a spare week. Next week is my off week now (week 3).

After two days of no IV and no pain port dangling from my arm, after a full week in hospital recovering from very serious blood clotting in my upper chest and jugular vein, my body is recovered enough for chemo. The clot is likely still there as those take a lot of months to dissipate, I am on anti-clot medicine to keep the clot from growing or new clots from forming. Because of the emergency nature, and because this has not been seen before by the team treating me in emerg, and because I have quite the huge team of doctors, I'm still not clear on what happened or where things are at. Nor are they, it is theories and waiting. I have been referred to the thrombosis clinic at VGH. Please, let us begin praying for that doctor, for wisdom, good bedside manner, clear understanding of my body, a clear plan for my good health, the right date as God sees it, good news, a return to perfect health!

The CT scan in emerg showed us that the cancer in my lung is shrunk... Chemo is working. Praising God daily for that! It just makes me smile to think on that.

The information from my oncologist (cancer doctor) yesterday was this: I will have chemo in my bed thru a normal IV, not the port (Herman) that I had installed for this purpose. Usually you come to the chemo room as a walk-in patient in the Cancer Agency, it is serene and kind and even fun (the nurses are all instantly your friend so its almost a social call once you get hooked up). I will miss that, here in my bed.

The theory of what happened to me last Sunday is that port+chemo=clots. The chance of what happened to me is .6%, so extremely rare. Because they will not access the port and because I am on belly injections 2x per day for anti-coagulant (no clots) she feels chemo is safe. They will keep me here to monitor for some days after chemo, still no "you are going home on this date". If all goes well (no clots in legs or chest or anywhere, watching for pain, swelling or shortness of breath) that means I could go home. I am nervous to not repeat last Sunday.

Had trouble falling asleep last night. Today is a big day, but not really. And I feel nervous, but not really. And I am leery of the needle IV and I am annoyed that I was brave to get the port and it almost did me in. I trust my doctor and I know that God is bigger. It's the needles. Injections and IV and pain port bruises remind me in quiet little whispers that don't easily shush. I'm mostly okay, but the immense emotional hit of last sunday has still not been spoken of, cried over, worked through. I am working hard to keep my blood pressure down and my body strong and my self keeping a manageable pace on this unknown timeline. Crying would give me a headache that I don't want to risk right now. Am feeling... quiet. Quiet is okay. Read Jesus Calling, God is giving me Zephaniah over and over and even via text thru a friend of a friend. He will quiet me with His love. Amen and thank you Lord. You are thoughtful and You hold me and You are kind. I love that.

The next six months will be blood thinners which means being extremely careful. I am wobbly on my feet and to fall and hit my head could mean serious complications. My GP can't stress safety enough. Bending down or even just standing-to-sitting get me super lightheaded. They want to send me home with inject-myself belly shots... going to revisit the options. Don't think I can do it. Hoping there is an equally good-for-me other option. Not feeling rested this morning. Satan was planting all sorts of horrible in my head last night. Not about me but just the evils in this world. Get behind me Satan, you shall NOT prevail because Jesus never fails. God is bigger.

This morning is quiet me, thats okay. Sometimes it is in the quiet we see God in ways we miss in other moments. Am choosing to be okay with quiet today and expecting big things from my God. He loves me. He is here and He holds me and is stroking my forehead to calm me and bring rest.

Please: pray peace and success for today's chemo. Pray that my body has no negative reactions, that not a single unwanted clot threatens or forms! I feel a little nervous but quietly confident and mostly just nervous about the IV needle. Once they get that I will be okay. I want the chemo, the needle is part of the deal. I understand that.

Thank you for your prayers. I want and need and hoard them. I line them up, concentric circles that hold suspended in the air around me, shimmering as you connect with God, shaking in the fervency of some of your prayers, shining as your hope and confidence winks at me and God smiles at this all and is so very happy to hear our prayers, to hear from us. He loves this time we take to talk to Him. And He listens and He answers. God is good. All the time. All the time, God is good.

Amen.

Look at the sunrise, shining in my window, lighting up my bed, God smiling. His warmth and love and care bathing this room. He is here. I am teary with grateful ness. God is good.