First, some updates: I am nearing the end of my 6 months of chemotherapy: February 6th is my last scheduled treatment. We now have new appointments on the board: 2/13 is a CT scan and 2/15 is my next consultation with the surgeon at Vanderbilt. There are a lot of branching possibilities depending on the scan and tests, but the middle of the road is to expect some kind of surgery 3-4 weeks after my last Chemo treatment. Maybe. Unfortunately, we just don’t get to see past the next set of tests to see what the future has in store.
My treatments have become increasingly challenging. The fatigue is real and persistent. I spend a full Tuesday at Clearview Cancer Institute getting my infusions, and the fatigue builds Wednesday and Thursday and peaks on Fridays. Then over the weekend, I start to get a little more energy. It’s challenging to keep clear-minded as well. Karly and the kids all dance to this rhythm, giving me space, encouragement and patience as I work through the process. It’s a new routine, but it’s never normal.
We have noted a few interesting things about my particular brand of cancer and treatment. For one, I have discovered my own form of cancer-induced male PMS! I tend to get a little emotional and ‘dramatic’ on my down days. My naturally emotive self really comes out when I am tired and feeling blue. Karly is both patient and amused at my displays of sensitive manhood.
There are a few common questions that I can answer. I have not lost my hair, (Well, at least not any more. It was thin to begin with.) I am not supposed to hug small children and pets the first couple of days after a treatment, since I am RADIOACTIVE MAN! (no super-powers yet.) I had a port installed in my chest to be able to take chemo, So I consider myself fully a cyborg now. (I am Locutus of Borg…).
We have this weird mix of the serious and the absurd. The shadow of cancer falls over everything. How do we plan for summer trips? How will I feel this weekend? What do I step back from? We have been told many times that it’s OK to step back and say no to taking on things. Take time for yourself. And there is a certain reality where we have changed focus. I stepped down from being Troopmaster in Trail Life. But there is also reasons not to give in to a fully self-focused life, even when the struggles are real.
I look at it this way. I am glad that Paul didn’t say “I am stuck here in prison, chained to this guard. Things look bleak. I should really focus on myself and my situation – The Philippians will be able to take care of themselves for awhile while I practice some self-care.” Instead, he wrote: “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” When you remember the context of where and when Paul was writing, his encouragement is remarkable.
It’s easy, and even expected that we should curl up and turn inward when hard times come. I have done some of that. But it’s also isolating. Keeping a compassionate eye toward others is a way to keep your own balance. I think as I roll into the early weeks of a new year, I am less concerned about a personal new resolution or some trendy form of self-improvement, and I am more likely to lean over and offer a hand to someone else. I’m doing ok, God is gracious and has a plan I trust, even if I don’t know it.
How are you?
