The Dark Places: Take One

My last post described events leading up to and including my first chemo infusion. That Friday, and even up through that following Saturday were undisturbed. I did my normal "things". I slept ok. I ate fine. And I actually found myself thinking (please forgive me), "Chemo just might not effect me like it does other people...this could end up being a breeze!". And then Sunday came.....

Sunday was my son, Landen's 7th birthday.

Landen and my oldest, Logan, have a general understanding of what is going on with me but the focus of my message to them is that, though this all might be a big pain in the butt for a little while, I am going to be just fine. I have told them that I AM NOT WORRIED and even as those words left my lips, I could see the weight of this terrible "Cancer World" lifting from their tiny shoulders. So that is the image that I have portrayed and that, in reality, is my truth. I am NOT worried that I may die from this. I do not worry that I will be taken from this Earth by Breast Cancer. I know that I will come through it and be stronger because of it. However, I do now have a glimpse into the mind of someone who opts out of chemo and decides to allow the Cancer to do just that, take them from the Earth. Chemotherapy just, for lack of a better word, sucks.

Sunday, April 3rd.
I woke up feeling a little less energetic than the days before. But I knew to expect some fatigue and possibly nausea around 72 hours post infusion. We went to church and as my Pastor who is funny and engaging and has never struggled to hold my attention, hit the mid point of his message....my energy level began to bottom out. I could feel my body sinking into my seat and my eyes to scream for rest.
"But it's Landen's birthday".

We went to lunch at Landen's restaurant of choice. I ordered lunch and it was all I could to take 3 bites of my favorite dish before asking for a to-go box. And they sang to him. And we left. And on the way home, my birthday boy says to me, "Mom, when we get home, how about Logan and I just watch cartoons and you can rest in the recliner! We can do whatever YOU want to do, Mom!". And in the face of his selflessness and compassion, my heart broke just a little bit.....a dark place.

Sunday was just the beginning.
Monday started off in a similar fashion but was characterized by blinding fatigue and absolutely no desire to eat or drink anything. As advised by my doctors and nurses, I continued to drink water but ate virtually nothing. Anti-nausea meds (which make me very sleepy) were all that kept me from throwing up the water I was able to consume throughout the day.

Though I made it to work on Tuesday, I was consumed by fatigue and nausea....dark places.

Wednesday through Friday: more of the same....6 pounds lost in 7 days.

Saturday, the fog begins to lift. The darkness fades just a little to light. And I start to hope for something to change for the better. Truthfully, there were moments I doubted my ability to endure the terrible discomfort and the pain with every day to day task. How could I possibly live like this for 4 months?

Sunday and Monday greet me with a level of normalcy I had feared gone for a long time. I can eat with few negative consequences. Brushing my teeth doesn't mean spitting blood for an hour afterward. I can sleep without the meds they've given me to "relax" in the face of the symptoms plaguing me.

The normalcy continues today. I saw and am now experiencing the light at the end of what seemed an interminably dark tunnel. I feel good and am fighting the urge I have to dread and count down the minutes until April 22nd, my next infusion. I will go because I have to go to get well. But I don't want to.

I am an optimist because I know a good and loving God. But this disease has taken me to some dark places. Places that, if forced to remain there, would require that I pull from the depths of my faith yet untapped to endure them.

The darkness is hard. But when my eyes can't see even the next step to take, Jesus is the the light to my path. When all I want to do is hide my face, He is the Lifter of My Head. He is my Rock; my Champion. He is love and truth and never promised me that I wouldn't have trouble. In fact He promised I WOULD. But He also promised that He would never leave me. So when He is for me....what else matters?  My flesh begs for me to be spared this....for my children to be spared this. But He is still good. So I will trust this process because I trust Him.