You will probably never know it, had I not said. I normally won't venture out into the world when my head is down. I am a people pleaser. I know it makes folks uncomfortable when someone is falling apart and there is nothing they can do to fix it. Somehow, though, I don't seem to mind torturing those I love the most. Caregivers who hang in, who care to give again day after day deserve HUGE accolades. Did you know there are quite a large amount of caregivers who leave? They can't take it. They feel they can never say anything right. They have to take over roles in which they never signed up for. Not only are they living along side the nightmare of impending doom of someone they love, they get the added bonus of not having the privilege to throw their own hissy fit whenever the urge arises. They sit on the sidelines in crowded hallways, with all the others who are waiting, boldly so as to play the part of anchor when their patient/loved one opens the door from chemo to head home. It would seem so heartless for one to give up and walk away from someone who is suffering, but I totally get it. Which is why I believe my beloved husband is a saint. He has taken much abuse in the last 14 months. After we realized my cancer had come back, I insisted we take that cruise I've always wanted to experience. Although we could not afford it, David never wavered in his response. "Book it," he said. I did and we went. For a whole week the sun shone outside and in. Cancer took a back seat to joy and peace. Reality hit us in the face the second we came back, but I will never forget the sacrifice my husband is making so that we could enjoy just one week vacation from reality. (Considering he is a realist, this is a major feat)
The realization that the world continues to turn even when you're no longer participating is crushing. I am so thankful to those who continue to count us a part of their lives. Thankful to those who, despite the ugliness of the situation, still include us in activities, send texts,cards and come by to visit. Some of you haven't dropped a line because you don't know what to say. I want to tell you it's ok. I've been there. I know you and love you, I understand completely. Please don't feel guilty. (Remember, I'm a people pleaser. If I thought I was causing you to feel any guilt, then I feel guilty! It's a curse!)
Work and client family have been on my heart lately. You are very loved and terribly missed. I do hope one day to return in some capacity. If God wills, it can happen. Thank you to those whose capable hands my clients have been placed in. Please take good care of these special people. I love them all dearly.
Although the mood of this post is a bit blah, I can tell you with certainty that today, at this hour, "the God of hope fills me with joy and peace as I trust Him. I overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." Romans 15:13. His mercy requires only that I trust Him, and I do.
So here is my update:
I was supposed to have treatment #17 yesterday, but my defenses are too low so I am receiving injections to encourage them along and will try for chemo again next Monday. (I was surprised to hear this because I feel great, but evidently white blood cells don't have feeling :) On my last visit to MD Anderson I was told by my doctor that I would be a candidate for liver surgery. My counts are gradually going down and, as she put it, I am young and strong enough to take it. So I will go back in May for scans and consultation with the liver team. We suspect they will recommend resection and ablation. This is what I have been hoping for since the beginning.
I just returned from a 3.6 mile run….ok jog….well, walked the inclines and jogged the declines… All to say, I AM living. I'm still here! While my defenses are down I'll be doing most of that living close to home, but regardless, I will keep my chin up to the heavens. Thank you for your continued prayers! You are MUCH loved!!