Today, October 7, 2016 marks the beginning of another chunk of game days. The drugs are severe. More severe. If that's possible.
If the last round of chemo was...like...the playoffs, this stuff is comparable to the World Series. Adriamycin and Cytoxan.
Above, please find Sally. Though she didn't. LOVE the idea of her picture being taken, she did it for me. She is calm and confident with a great sense of humor. She holds in her hand, The Red Death aka The Red Devil.
The Adriamycin is injected directly into my port via syringe. The dose is weight based. I am receiving 3 syringes today (a good reason to shed a few pounds? I think SO).I used to think I loved my children. I did. I always have. At the same time, before this experience, I could never have understood what I now understand as a love worth dying for or in my case a love for which I would put myself through the kind of suffering that Cancer treatment can bring.
If I had no children, there is not a chance in this world that you would find me in this room right now with more poison and hell being pumped into my veins. I would have no issue allowing a recurrence of this disease to send me home a little earlier than I might have anticipated. Heaven awaits! My savior, my King. Paradise! Bring it on!
But my boys need me. Their Dad, I believe, really tries. But...it's just not the same.
This morning, I walked into the typically very cranky in the morning Landen's room. I slid my hands under his pillow, kissed his cheek and whispered to him how much he is loved. He rolled over a bit, pulled his arms out from the covers and extended them toward me. He pulled me close and whispered "I love you so much, Mommy".
And the tears came as they often do when they drop their little guards long enough to be squishy and vulnerable with me. When I think about him and his tough facade that he tries to maintain compared to his sensitive, kind, compassionate side...I am overwhelmed with a love that makes me cry every time.
I cry because that kind of love makes my decisions about treatment very simple. Not easy. But simple. Black and white. No brainers. I have to fight like no other, not because I love the side effects, but because I can't take a chance that I might leave them too soon if I don't.
Logan tries desperately to be the strong one. He fights back tears until he is just overwhelmed. I know when he's close to breaking down that if I meet his eyes, if I put my hands on his sweet face, the tears will come. In the face of the unconditional love of your mother, there is no reason to try to be brave. And inside him he knows that my first and most important job is to protect him....and hold him..tight...when he needs to cry.
He's cried a lot lately.
He is a very smart boy. He has asked a lot of questions about my treatment. Without over sharing, I have provided the answers he has sought always focusing on the positive, that I will be well again, that I have amazing doctors, etc.
But he knows on a level I don't understand that what's going on is bigger than I make it out to be. He knows I hold it together ... for them. I suspect he is just an excellent observer and that what he sees/hears rolls around in that brilliant mind of his until he makes sense of it. He is sensitive and silly. Kind and compassionate. But my diagnosis has likely weighed heavier on him than anyone else. The burden he bears must be enormous. The pressure he likely feels to be flawless.... so as not to create more for me to deal with... he is being forced into adulthood way too early no matter my efforts to reassure him. "Mom has everything under control. That's not for you to worry about". And all of that is true. But the pain...changes me. And at times it speaks louder than the truth in my words, I'm sure, despite my efforts to keep things as 'normal ' as possible.
I know my diagnosis isn't my fault. However, I will forever carry regret and guilt for what this process has done to my children. They are resilient..yes. But their resiliency comes at a price that no child should be made to pay.
It begins.....
It's just hours after my infusion now and my mouth is already raw. My head is pounding. My urine is as red as the syringes full of drugs. Cytoxan is heavily toxic, especially to the bladder so I am charged with drinking a gallon of water or more per day. Sooooo, if you are looking for me over the next week, check the restroom. :-)
My joints, bones and muscles ache and scream out with each movement, the lone lingering side effect of the Arimidex.
I speak of the side effects and the pain for the one reading this who will never speak of her own pain but longs to know that someone out there understands what she might be going through.
I am here. Breathing in and out. Taking everything one day at a time tackling whatever comes our way on any given day.
And trusting.
Trusting the God who loves me to see us through this next phase. He will. I know it. But it won't be without struggle and pain.
And that's ok. I know He could take this from me. And I pray that prayer often. But I also know that regardless of whether or not He does, He will be with me every step of the way in the same way that He is with my boys. He is the air I breathe, the light to my path, the Savior of my Soul. He is the creator of the Universe yet He comes here...to me.... as close as I allow... and surrounds me with His presence. He holds me...as I hold my boys...and whispers life and truth to me. I will get through this and will be pointing to my God as the reason why. In the midst of the struggle, my faith, my Joy can never be shaken. Because Jesus died to make sure of it. He loves me like I now realize I love my children. I couldn't be more grateful for His sacrifice and the revelation of what that sacrifice has allowed. I speak of the joy and hope I have in Jesus....for the one who might not consider Him as she endures what feels like all of the evil in the world has camped on her doorstep. It has, my friend. There is no argument there. But there is peace in the storm that can be found no where else but in the arms of the God who is desperate for you to know just how much He loves you. I promise you.
A song, currently a source of inspiration and important reminders:
https://youtu.be/Ow4OfW4DP9s
Until next time....
