Today is round three. I’m ready as usual. (I remembered my meds!) I actually like systemically treating cancer. It satisfies my deep sense of justice. I’m all like, “Oh you wanna fight? Bring it. We are so going to destroy your ability to divide cells! Your evil tyranny ends today!!!”
I digress. I’m actually just wanting to give a quick update on things.
I feel pretty amazing. I have energy. This is wonderful because one of my few jobs is to walk everyday. It’s important that I stay strong during this time, because I’m not just killing cancer; I’m preparing for surgery. Must. Stay. Strong.
My skin is breaking out. While it’s annoying, it’s fascinating to me how much I don’t care. Because, honestly, I’m vain. Oh, on that note, my hair isn’t falling out yet. I did have my buddy from Aveda, Kathryn, cut it into a bob with bangs Tuesday night. I’m loving bangs. I will miss them.
Sleep is a challenge. I can use specific prayers in that department. All the obsessing and worrying I don’t do during the day likes to creep in at night.
My mouth has a metallic taste. Spices are spicier. Carbonation is sometimes unbearable. I have almost no nausea. I don’t take any anti-nausea meds. Appetite is usually nonexistent, but I make myself eat and food does taste good.
Speaking of food, you all are AMAZING. I haven’t had to think of a meal plan in weeks. When I don’t have a meal coming, I can choose from a huge assortment of Wildtree freezer meals that were gifted to us by some amazingly loving families. I’ve loved all the food and extra hugs and helping hands.
One other bit I want to be honest about was how I have had some really dark days. This past weekend was bleak. I crawled into my bed in the middle of the day and admitted to Brent, through hot tears, that I felt trapped in a horrible nightmare. I felt hopeless. Hopelessness is the worst feeling. I have felt it without cancer and it’s all the same really. Having hope in a God who will always hear, always be with, always and forever be eternal and loving makes all the difference. Cancer or no cancer.
But it’s not that simple. Just telling myself doesn’t help when I’m that low. By God’s grace, I can get back to knowing comforting truths through practical helps. I have a friend from church, Kim, who was there through some of the darkness. She asked how I climbed out of the pit of despair. You probably want to know too. It was a lot of things. It was being able to go to the dark place with Kim and a few others, not just in front of them. It was power walking with two close friends who let me kvetch, who reassured me that this negativity wasn’t redefining me. They affirmed our friendship and even communicated that they felt comforted just to be with me. And the exercise alone was good! Decluttering helped. Getting rid of bags of old shoes was good for the soul. People praying for us is huge. I can feel the difference. Eating a bowl of cereal (mainly because I actually craved it first). Visiting with my sister. That’s always a comfort. These things helped bring me back to my safe place of hope.
Truly, most days have not been this way. I feel better than I anticipated. And I feel like I’m body surfing on your hands. Like a giddy mob of nineties grungers, you all are making this feel more like an adventure. You make it so much easier, and sometimes even fun. You are making me laugh. You’re carrying the burden of my grief and fear so I can stay afloat in hope and joy. Thank you, Jesus, for these hands carrying me through. I am anything, but alone.