OK, here we go. One day after chemo, and I have two Saturday rehearsals - PrayerSong and the quartet. There was just no help for the scheduling. I rest all day, and plan on sitting for the rehearsal, praying that I can make it through to the end before I collapse.
But what is this? I am feeling pretty good. No pain in every joint of my body. No headache. No tummy troubles. No tiredness? Hum. Let's hope it lasts. I go in a bit early to make sure I have music for any new singers. PrayerSong arrives and we have a good workout. I am standing for the whole hour.
The quartet is late in arriving, and PrayerSong takes advantage of the time to work a bit longer than usual. I am worried about the quartet. We really need to work, and I am thinking that I will ask them to stay later since we will get such a late start. I am surprised that only three of my five singers arrive. We work as best we can without all the voice parts. I am concerned. I wonder if they are OK.
When at last we stop, I have been standing for 2 1/2 hours and I am not tired! I am doing fine. This is extraordinary. I hope it holds. Maybe getting the double steroids has done the trick. Maybe I will not have the usual reaction at all. Right now, I am going home and not pushing my luck. I will find out what is going on with my singers tomorrow.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
Chemo
Here we go again. Another maintenance round. I am counting on this to keep the cancer at bay. I have steeled my heart to endure whatever it brings, praying that the pain and fog will clear in plenty of time for my recital to happen with me back to full force. I am at peace as I wander into the infusion center and meet my nurse.
She explains that the doctor has not yet written orders and she is trying to contact her. The couple in the pod next to mine are preparing for oral surgery to help deal with the effects of past treatments and ongoing health issues. Once again I am reminded of how fortunate I am that I have not encountered these issues.
They talk non stop. I am worn out with their angst! But I listen respectfully. It is not easy to go through these things. Suddenly the nurse appears with my premeds. She tells me that I am getting a more concentrated form of Rituxan this time. I panic for a moment, picturing doubled impact of pain and fatigue. I shake it off and put it in God's hands.
The nurse tells me that due to the strength of the Rituxan, they are doubling the steroids and Benedril and all. Yikes! Something tells me I will sleep through the infusion. I dutifully swallow each little pill, pink, white, blue. The familiar bitterness overtakes my mouth and I ask for a gingerale from the hospitality cart, along with animal crackers, Weight Watchers not withstanding.
I settle back in the comfy chair and try to read. I am just completing Ted Dekker's Circle books. The words blur on the page and I nod off. Then the nurse returns to hook up the Rituxan and take my blood pressure. Doing well. She hangs an IV of fluids to dilute the chemo (it usually works better that way) and leaves me again to my dozing.
The hours fly by, and soon it is late afternoon and I am done. My premeds haven't begun to wear off yet. I know I will sleep for the rest of the day. That's why I choose Friday, so I can recover as much as possible over the weekend. We shall see what this weekend will bring! A speedy recovery, I hope.
She explains that the doctor has not yet written orders and she is trying to contact her. The couple in the pod next to mine are preparing for oral surgery to help deal with the effects of past treatments and ongoing health issues. Once again I am reminded of how fortunate I am that I have not encountered these issues.
They talk non stop. I am worn out with their angst! But I listen respectfully. It is not easy to go through these things. Suddenly the nurse appears with my premeds. She tells me that I am getting a more concentrated form of Rituxan this time. I panic for a moment, picturing doubled impact of pain and fatigue. I shake it off and put it in God's hands.
The nurse tells me that due to the strength of the Rituxan, they are doubling the steroids and Benedril and all. Yikes! Something tells me I will sleep through the infusion. I dutifully swallow each little pill, pink, white, blue. The familiar bitterness overtakes my mouth and I ask for a gingerale from the hospitality cart, along with animal crackers, Weight Watchers not withstanding.
I settle back in the comfy chair and try to read. I am just completing Ted Dekker's Circle books. The words blur on the page and I nod off. Then the nurse returns to hook up the Rituxan and take my blood pressure. Doing well. She hangs an IV of fluids to dilute the chemo (it usually works better that way) and leaves me again to my dozing.
The hours fly by, and soon it is late afternoon and I am done. My premeds haven't begun to wear off yet. I know I will sleep for the rest of the day. That's why I choose Friday, so I can recover as much as possible over the weekend. We shall see what this weekend will bring! A speedy recovery, I hope.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
The Tough Topic of Healing
Chapel all week is about healing. One of the professors here shared about healing. He has experienced miraculous healings from major death-causing diseases, and also lack of miraculous healing of other major illnesses.
He talked about the "yes" and the "no" of God healing in this age. What a wonderful picture of relationship with God he drew for us. It's a hard question to address. Why do some people get healed and others do not? More specifically, why didn't I get healed of cancer?
In some ways, I can say I was healed of rectal cancer. I went through the treatment, and didn't experience the horrible pitfalls that some people experience. The treatment was successful and I have been pronounced cured of rectal cancer. That is a wonderful answer to prayer.
Not everyone who undergoes the treatment lives. And I DIDN'T end up with an ostomy which many rectal cancer patients have for the rest of their lives. Not instantaneous or miraculous from the perspective that it was without medical intervention. But good. And how blessed am I that I live in a country that offers a treatment, as barbaric as it sometimes seems?
Even now with the follicular lymphoma, I have had good success with the treatments. Many people do not. I have lived for 7 years more than I would have had I refused treatment. Have I done everything I could? Probably not. When my son was so ill, we did try everything, from the sublime to the ridiculous, in our frantic attempt to keep him alive.
I realized after he died that even if you do it all, you may not find the key to life. In the perfect world that God created, God's intention was for humans to enjoy perfect health and happiness. But we do not live in a perfect world any more. There are so many impacting factors. Some we understand, some we have no concept of.
God knows all the solutions. Sometimes, for reasons we cannot understand, he decides to intervene and heal someone. And when he does, we are blessed and rejoice in it. The rest of us continue in prayer in season and out of season, knowing that in the end, we wind up in heaven where we will be happy and whole. And this life will be but a distant and fading dream.
For me, though it would be amazing to find that I am suddenly and without explanation healed of all cancer, I find no compelling reason to fuss about "why me" or insist that God heal my body. After all, at some point I will die. That's how it is with humans. It is for me more about living well what time I may have left.
Not packing everything I can think of into every waking moment. Rather keeping my priorities in line with what is pleasing to God, doing only what he leads me to do, leaving the rest for someone else. Mostly it is about loving my family, loving my friends, loving my neighbors, spending time with people when I am not spending time with God. And maybe that is real healing because before cancer, that was not my focus.
And recognizing all the little healings and victories along the way. That the nurse got an IV in on the first try. That my port continues to work. That the impact of the chemo treatments is less because I went to my Father and cried and he heard me and touched me. That I continue to have health insurance. That I am blessed with wonderful friends. That I have good doctors who watch out for me proactively. That I can still work. That I am able to walk the dog. That I get to be with my kids as often as possible. That I can eat - even if I have a lot of restrictions. That I can walk under my own power.
Healed? God loves me. Healed? God is with me. Healed? I am blessed with abundance. Healed? My life is good. Healed? My cup overflows. Healed? I have many family and friends. Healed? I am free. Healed? Yes - in many ways that are significant. And healed? Yes, eventually completely. With a glorified body and everything.
He talked about the "yes" and the "no" of God healing in this age. What a wonderful picture of relationship with God he drew for us. It's a hard question to address. Why do some people get healed and others do not? More specifically, why didn't I get healed of cancer?
In some ways, I can say I was healed of rectal cancer. I went through the treatment, and didn't experience the horrible pitfalls that some people experience. The treatment was successful and I have been pronounced cured of rectal cancer. That is a wonderful answer to prayer.
Not everyone who undergoes the treatment lives. And I DIDN'T end up with an ostomy which many rectal cancer patients have for the rest of their lives. Not instantaneous or miraculous from the perspective that it was without medical intervention. But good. And how blessed am I that I live in a country that offers a treatment, as barbaric as it sometimes seems?
Even now with the follicular lymphoma, I have had good success with the treatments. Many people do not. I have lived for 7 years more than I would have had I refused treatment. Have I done everything I could? Probably not. When my son was so ill, we did try everything, from the sublime to the ridiculous, in our frantic attempt to keep him alive.
I realized after he died that even if you do it all, you may not find the key to life. In the perfect world that God created, God's intention was for humans to enjoy perfect health and happiness. But we do not live in a perfect world any more. There are so many impacting factors. Some we understand, some we have no concept of.
God knows all the solutions. Sometimes, for reasons we cannot understand, he decides to intervene and heal someone. And when he does, we are blessed and rejoice in it. The rest of us continue in prayer in season and out of season, knowing that in the end, we wind up in heaven where we will be happy and whole. And this life will be but a distant and fading dream.
For me, though it would be amazing to find that I am suddenly and without explanation healed of all cancer, I find no compelling reason to fuss about "why me" or insist that God heal my body. After all, at some point I will die. That's how it is with humans. It is for me more about living well what time I may have left.
Not packing everything I can think of into every waking moment. Rather keeping my priorities in line with what is pleasing to God, doing only what he leads me to do, leaving the rest for someone else. Mostly it is about loving my family, loving my friends, loving my neighbors, spending time with people when I am not spending time with God. And maybe that is real healing because before cancer, that was not my focus.
And recognizing all the little healings and victories along the way. That the nurse got an IV in on the first try. That my port continues to work. That the impact of the chemo treatments is less because I went to my Father and cried and he heard me and touched me. That I continue to have health insurance. That I am blessed with wonderful friends. That I have good doctors who watch out for me proactively. That I can still work. That I am able to walk the dog. That I get to be with my kids as often as possible. That I can eat - even if I have a lot of restrictions. That I can walk under my own power.
Healed? God loves me. Healed? God is with me. Healed? I am blessed with abundance. Healed? My life is good. Healed? My cup overflows. Healed? I have many family and friends. Healed? I am free. Healed? Yes - in many ways that are significant. And healed? Yes, eventually completely. With a glorified body and everything.
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