Cycle 6: Week 1, Day 1

 

Good Morning Friends!

I am feeling very neutral, rested, at peace today.  I slept so well and woke up gently to the sounds of kids getting their day started...  K with the quiet 'good-bye, love you' and click of the door as he leaves, B was singing in the bathroom, C with his stumble-to-the-bathroom-and-pee routine, and M with her standing-in-the-middle-of-her-room-contemplating-what-to-wear and what-hairstyle-for-today.  Thankful for Wiffy (Shawn's Mom) who came to get the kids to the bus as Daddy had early meetings today... my amazing husband has been juggling so much, please pray stamina and rest and peace and joy and blessings over his days.

Today is the beginning of cycle 6, the final cycle of this round of chemo.  The reaction of most people is 'hooray, you're done!' and I am glad for their joy on our behalf.  For me, from cycle 4 when my oncologist shared that my cancer has a high recurrence rate, it's been a hard mental exercise to balance focusing in this moment with not being afraid to look forward.  I would think this typical of many cancer patients, the 'palliative' part of my file (remember, you are either curative or palliative in the cancer agency) makes it a big part of the mental work I do each day to keep my focus on God's promises, my fears (Satan trying to distract me), and the emotions of all of that in check.  As with all things emotional (how much I love my kids and how quickly that flows as tears from an happy-full heart) or scary (I really don't want to leave these people ever never) or fearful worrying (struggling to breathe, intense pain, long-suffering) about the future... the balancing is sometimes less successful than other times.  For the most part, the hard-sad-overwhelming parts have been really a lot less than they could have/should have been and I fully thank God for His peace poured out over me and my family.  Thank you for your prayers for that peace, God has been faithful in answering.

And so, I begin cycle 6.  Today is a good day.  I feel well even though my hemoglobin is low.  And I think it pretty amusing that tomorrow I will get fresh blood and that'll just perk up this shortness of breath thing.  How cool is that, really?!!  Medical intervention and technology: such a gift from God.  What an amazing and awe inspiring thing the human body is, and God did that.  So cool!  How awesome is His imagination!  

I look not forward to the potentially hard days that the next three weeks may bring.  I don't need to remind myself of the exhaustion, the inability to walk from couch to bathroom and back, the desire to eat but the disinterest in putting food in my mouth, the thirst that wants no drink, the dull ache across my shoulders as the chemo settles there and gets trapped under my skin (that's what it feels like to me), the aching teeth, the weakness... oh, how I hate the physical weakness that looses all hold I may have on my emotions and makes it so very hard to not drift into the pit of despair and fear and death.  I actually don't feel much else but peace today, in this moment.  I feel joy that I get my chemo today.  I feel excitement that I will walk in with a smile on my face and the chemo nurse will hassle me that "she wouldn't tell us even if she felt horrible" (which totally isn't true, I can whine as good as anybody and I never keep symptoms a secret).  I feel anticipation.  I feel 'in this moment'.  Today is a good day.

God is bigger.

May your day be great!!!!

Kristin

Note: I drink tea rather, but it's still funny...hope it makes you smile: