On the Ropes

It has been a tough go-round. At one point I was down for the count, but with the help of the entire “Team” in my corner praying and cheering me on, I slowly got back on my feet. Today I am recovering nicely and regaining strength. Unfortunately, it will take a little longer than last time to lick my wounds and come out fighting in Round 3, but God continues to encourage me in His Word and the prayers of the many are my lifeline!

The severe neuropathy pain after chemo was even more challenging this round than the first round. Even doubling up on pain meds did little to alleviate the joint, muscle and nerve pain that would not abate for four days. Basically I was confined to my chair or in bed, moaning, feeling miserable and sorry for myself. I prayed for relief. I expected quick results and was disappointed when the pain lingered longer than I thought I could endure. My dear, sweet husband was on the receiving end of some of my worst moments, when in frustration, I lashed out at him just to vent. I’m definitely not proud of myself for that. No excuses. Thankfully his shoulders were broad enough to shake off my pain-induced tirades, and he calmly talked me down from those cliff edges, and held my hand and soothed my aching heart with his unconditional love. He lives out the “for better or worse” part of our marriage vows everyday. Dear readers, when you pray for me please remember to pray for Charles.

A day after coming out of the chemo “fog”, as I like to call those agonizing days after treatment, my left leg started to swell. I knew the symptoms since I had experienced blood clots in that leg twice before, once in 2002 and again in 2015. I am genetically prone to DVT’s (Deep Vein Thrombosis) on my mother’s side. I have a clotting disorder called Leiden Factor Five as does my oldest daughter. I also have been told that cancer and chemo can also bring about DVT’s. So, I suppose it wasn’t entirely unexpected I would get one again. The fact too that I hadn’t moved much when in pain also contributed to the clot developing. My husband drove me into emergency and a blood test and follow-up ultrasound confirmed my suspicions.

The doctor pushed aside the curtain that separated our little cubicle in the emergency department from the other beds and patients being treated there. He smiled and said, “You are one of the “special” people who gets a DVT while going through chemotherapy!” “Yay, me!” I blurted out sarcastically. It had been a rough twenty-four hours and I had lost my sense of “ha ha”. I had spent several hours the night before at the hospital while they had tried to get blood out of me to confirm a clot. It’s like getting blood from a stone with me. My veins won’t cooperate. Four needle pokes later, my arm looking like a bruised pin-cushion, they finally had drawn enough blood to run the test. Then they gave me a shot of blood thinner and sent me home, instructing me to come back in the morning for an ultrasound to determine where exactly the clot was located in my leg.

It had been a long day already. My husband and I had not had a chance to eat so we went through a drive through on the way home and gulped down our chicken wraps. Halfway home I told my husband that the meal was not sitting well with me. Understatement! No sooner did we get home before I was violently ill with a case of food poisoning! I felt like the cartoon character, Wile E. Coyote, who has anvils dropped on his head repeatedly while chasing the Roadrunner. This just added insult to injury. I survived the night, a little more worse for wear, but showed up the next morning for the ultrasound at the hospital and then the waiting began for those results. Three hours later the doctor was gleefully calling me “special”. Yeah, right.

The doctor then proceeded to tell me the associated risks being on anti-coagulants long term and undergoing chemotherapy. He thoughtfully listed all the medications I can no longer take because of bleeding concerns, including ALL the anti-inflammatory pain meds I had been taking for neuropathy pain. “Uh, excuse me,” I muttered starting to panic, “but how can I get through four more rounds of chemo without pain meds?”

My husband was quick to point out that they hadn’t really worked for me the last two rounds. We had prayed even that very day there would be a better solution to pain management and now it lay in front of us! The doctor suggested a new med and I phoned the cancer clinic to get it okayed.

My Pastor has been preaching a series that focuses on “detours” in life that challenge and shape us into becoming better followers of Christ. I remembered something he said that resonated deeply with me before my second round of chemo.

I had thought a cancer diagnosis was my detour, my challenge, in this particular season of my life. I knew God would use my journey in a variety of different ways. My surprise has been the detours within the detour!

I called my Pastor on the way home, my new prescriptions in hand, and told him what had transpired with me over the last forty-eight hours. I was still a bit shell-shocked after all my ups and downs, and as he prayed for me over the phone I started to piece together God’s handiwork in the minute details of my treatment. Next round I go into it with a new med arsenal to help me combat pain. I believe God took that blood clot “detour within a detour” to give me a better way to combat the neuropathy side effect of chemo!

I want to thank so many of you who are following this blog and walking this cancer journey with me by praying and encouraging me with your thoughtful comments of support. Your words have meant so much to me!

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Round 2

I have always called having cancer a battle. I like to visualize myself in a boxing match, sparring with a far bigger adversary than myself. According to the tape, as they say, cancer may seem to be the bigger opponent with a longer reach and a brutal right cross, but it cannot defeat my plucky spirit, as well as the fact that I don’t fight alone! Sure, it’s unfair, but I have no intention of losing! I have an arena full of cheerleaders. I have prayer warriors standing toe-to-toe with me. I have family who are my greatest fans. I have a medical team who attend me. I also have in my corner the greatest Coach in the universe, the Holy Spirit, Who leads, guides, and directs my steps. My footing is always secure. I cannot stumble. I cannot falter. He encourages me in the Word. The odds may seem stacked against me, but with this stellar Team I cannot lose!

So, it’s Round 2 of 6.

I have a few battle scars from Round 1. Lost my hair in the scuffle. Cancer fights dirty. My joints are aching and have some nerve damage but I didn’t get knocked down. I think I won that round so I’m pretty confident going into Round 2.

As the nurse checked the IV that was feeding cancer destroying chemicals into my body, we talked a bit about my previous experience with fighting cancer in 2001. “Wow!” she said. “First breast cancer and now uterine cancer. We women are so much more complicated than men, aren’t we?  But with all the stuff that can go wrong with us internally, I wonder if it’s worth the grief having all these lady parts sometimes.” I smiled and just said, “I have four beautiful grandbabies. It’s worth it!”

My children and my grandbabies make me want to fight as hard as I can to defeat cancer. I want to make more memories with all the precious people in my life.  It’s worth the fight!  It will be a hard-fought battle to be sure, but as my husband keeps saying, “It’s short term pain for long term gain.”  Glad he’s in my corner too!

I was blessed to be with my church family in corporate worship this past Sunday.  I know I took some chances going when my immunity levels are so low, but I needed to be there amongst my family of believers.  So many are praying daily for me.  The message from the Pastor was so timely for me too.  It was like he was just confirming that all I’m going through right now is but a slight detour, as he calls trials and tribulations that come into our lives.  Detours are not fun, they are not convenient, but once negotiated, we can experience a victory of sorts that leads to joy.  I wrote a blog series about the difference between happiness and joy.  Happiness is our response to circumstances that come our way in life.  For instance, we can be happy when we get a new job, or if the news from the doctor is good, or if all our children are healthy and walking with the Lord.  Joy does not come as a result of our circumstances but from the ongoing relationship we have with the Lord.  His love sustains us and gives us joy when we don’t get the job, or if the news from the doctor is not good, or if a child is sick, or if we have a prodigal in the family.  Joy is not dependent on our circumstances but solely dependent on our walk with the Lord.

It’s hard for me to be happy in my current situation.  I know there will be a lot more war wounds before this battle is won, and I can’t say I’m looking forward to my body going through those beatings this round and the four more to follow.  But, I can honestly say I have JOY.  God is good.  God is Sovereign.  He is in control, and I lean on Him for strength!

So, I’ve walked joyfully into the ring again, ready to do battle, because if God is for me, who (or what) can be against me?

 

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Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Apostle Paul, in 1 Corinthians 11:15, talks about a women’s long hair being her “crowning glory”, her “pride and joy” in the NLT translation, and her hair given to her by God as a covering.  Proverbs 16:31 calls gray hair a crown of splendor, attained in the way of righteousness; Luke 12:7, says that the very hairs on our head are numbered by God.  Lastly, King Solomon, in Song of Solomon 4:1, complimented his Beloved that her hair was “like a flock of goats descending from the hills of Gilead”.  I suppose, in that time, that was high praise indeed for a good head of hair!  Not sure shampoo commercials in this day and age would agree…

Since the day I found out I would need chemotherapy to battle uterine cancer, I have known that my hair would fall out.  Chemo drugs are powerful medications that attack rapidly growing cancer cells. Unfortunately, these drugs also attack other rapidly growing cells in your body — including those in your hair roots. For most women, this can be the most traumatic side effect caused by chemotherapy because hair makes up such an important part of a woman’s outward identity, closely linked with her self-esteem.  According to one recent survey, women will spend close to $55,000 in a lifetime on hair products and treatments.  I don’t know if I will spend that much money on my little “flock of goats” but I do know that I do spend an inordinate amount of time brushing, shearing, and pampering them!  I guess it’s because I do spend such time fussing over my hair that I felt the loss profoundly when my hair fell out in 2001 after my first chemo treatment, and how I wept when I saw my hair fall out this time around too.

I thought I was more prepared this time.  My daughters came with me wig shopping last week, and they selected a “sassy” look for me that is so different from my usual style and colour that I was instantly smitten by it.  Still, we hoped that by some miracle, I would not need to wear it.

Over the weekend, and a very busy weekend it was too, my hair was still mostly intact but hanging on for dear life!  I was blessed to be surrounded by my entire family on Saturday for a family dinner, and then on Sunday, I watched with delight as my youngest grandbaby, Atticus was dedicated to the Lord!  Once again, the whole family gathered to support my son and daughter-in-love as they vowed to “train up Atti in the way he should go”.  It was a glorious morning, followed by a wonderful BBQ with Atti’s maternal grandparents, great-grandparents and family.  When I got home, I got out of my Sunday attire, and changed into my jeans and a t-shirt and noticed immediately that my hair had finally lost its grip on my scalp.  I thought I was prepared for this eventuality, but it still came as a shock to see with every brush stroke, lengths of my hair pulled out with ease, thinning my mane considerably.

It was a tough day yesterday.

Today, however, I woke up and was determined to praise God in all circumstances even while my hair stylist, Bev, shaved my head bald.  My oldest daughter had come with me for moral support and she tried to hold back tears but was unsuccessful.  In a matter of minutes, my “crown of glory” was lying on the ground at our feet, and I was looking at a new reflection of myself in the mirror.  Then we smiled.

I join the ranks of men and women who proudly wear the bald badge of courage as we fight the cancer battle.  One day, God will bestow on me a new “crown of splendor”, a brand new head of hair, but more importantly I hope to attain a “crown of life” – referred to in James 1:12 & Revelation 2:10; bestowed upon “those who persevere under trials.” 

Until then, my wig will have to do.

 

 

 

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