The end.

I know this has been a long time coming, but here is the update: I’m cancer free.  My last round of treatment was on August 1st, we got the PETscan done August 24th, and got the news from my doctor on the 27th.  When the doctor said that I was in “100% remission”, Danny immediately starting tearing up and came over to hug me, so relieved that this was over.  I wanted to feel joy, relief, happiness, but in that moment I went numb.  It was like it wasn’t real.  After all of the pain and stress and fear, how could this possibly be over so quickly? 

I didn’t have much time to process all of this because later that week we traveled to CA to be with my brother for his beautiful wedding to my new sister, who has been one of my favorite people since 11th grade.  It was a great time with family and it was a good break from everything back here in TN, including cancer.  When we first heard about the tumor back in April my immediate thought was that I might not get to go to the wedding at all.  It was such a blessing to not only get to go, but to also go knowing that the worst was behind me.   

About 2 weeks after we got home, Danny completely surprised me with a cancer-free celebration at one of my favorite sushi restaurants in town.  I thought we were going to have a date night at Jimmy Johns so imagine my astonishment when we walked into Miso and 10 of some of my favorite people were sitting around a table waiting for me.  I was so overwhelmed with love for Danny and gratitude for these people – most of them had been on their hands and knees cleaning my home right before treatment or had cooked multiple bland meals for me to eat after treatment.  It was a wonderful night, but it was also bittersweet.  I felt like I should be over this cancer, ready to move on and get things back to how they were before.  I felt like I didn’t have an excuse any more to be bald or overweight or emotionally sensitive.  You see, since getting back from CA things have been difficult – more difficult than I would have ever expected.  I really thought that fighting the cancer would be the hard part and then it would be over.  I began to see that the adjustment back to “normal” life takes time, is very difficult, and is part of the long process of recovery.  I wanted to be crazy thrilled and jumping for joy and yelling from the rooftops that I survived, but I wasn't.  I was inexplicably sad.  This whole thing had just been so devastating.  I felt like cancer had changed me in ways that I didn’t really like and would never choose for myself.  I felt more fragile, indecisive, and emotionally unstable.  Little changes equated to big changes and big changes were nearly impossible to face or deal with.  Work was a weary chore instead of an exciting challenge.  It felt like this cancer had stripped me of so much of my joy and sense of adventure.

This all makes sense when you look at what my body was trying to process.  I mean, it first had cancer growing in it.  Then it had poison dumped into it for months.  Then I started menapause (including hot flashes).  Then after two months I got my period.  The hormones in my body are angry hormones.  I started taking some medicine to help balance everything out and it has made a HUGE difference.  Since January I am feeling much more able, much more positive, and much more like myself.

On December 16th, Danny and I went to Nashville for a couple of days to see Andrew Peterson's Christmas concert.  We went last year as well and it's a really special getaway for us.  We have so little time together on a normal week, so it is precious to have 2 whole days with each other and no other obligations.  Plus, we have so much fun when we travel together.  We spent an entire afternoon sitting in the hotel room watching the preview channel and eating room service!  Anyway, it just happens that this concert last year was the second time my knee really started hurting and the first time we took the pain seriously.  I remember clutching my knee throughout the concert and getting tylenol from a stranger sitting nearby.  I hobbled all over Nashville without a clue that four months later we would find out it was cancer.  Going back to Nashville this year without cancer in my body, going back in the venue where I was so keenly aware of my pain last year without any pain whatsoever, taking time to plan the future with the love of my life with the cancer in the past was incredibly healing for me.  I kept waiting for a moment when not having cancer would click for me - I thought it would be when Dr. Lamb told me I was in remission but it wasn't.  I had spent months in a sort of waiting area, knowing that I don't have cancer but still feeling as damaged as when I did.  But then came the concert.

First, I have to give you a little background.  Behold the Lamb of God is an incredible concert experience and Andrew Peterson has been doing it every year for over a decade now.  It begins with a reading from The Jesus Storybook Bible, written by Sally Lloyd-Jones.  They read "You know the Bible isn't a book of rules or a book of heroes.  The Bible is most of all a story.  It's an adventure story about a young hero who comes from a far country to win back his lost treasure.  It's a love story about a brave prince who leaves his palace, his throne, everything, to rescue the one he loves.  It's like the most wonderful of fairy tales that has come true in real life.  You see, the best thing about this story is it's true.  There are lots of stories in the Bible but all the stories are telling one big story, the story of how God loves his children and comes to rescue them.  It takes the whole Bible to tell this story and at the center of the story, there's a baby.  Every story in the Bible whispers his name.  He is like the missing piece of a puzzle, the piece that makes all the other pieces fit together and suddenly you can see a beautiful picture..."

In listening to this in the Ryman, I remembered something.  After my 4th treatment I was scheduled to get a PETscan to see if the cancer had been succesfully eradicated.  Waiting those four weeks were horrible, both Danny and I were wreaks.  It was so nerveracking to not know whether it was over or not.  A few days before the PETscan my awesome Sunday School class prayed over me.  I know they said wonderful hopeful things, but all I can remember is saying in my head over and over again "God, rescue me.  Father, rescue us from this.  I can't do it anymore.  Rescue me."  I realized at the Ryman when that quote was read that He had done it again - rescued me.  He has saved me over and over and over again throughout my life, but for some reason I hadn't put it together with cancer.  Things won't be perfect and the process will be difficult and my life won't ever be the same again BUT I didn't die.  Cancer didn't have the final say.  This fact finally rang true through my mind that night at the concert and for the first time I was wholly and truly thankful, joyous, and ready to move forward.  I don't have cancer anymore.  I don't know why I got it in the first place and I don't know why I was lucky enough to be spared, but I do know that I have survived.  

This paradigm shift has given me a new understanding of this crazy life.  I have never been perfect and never will be.  I often make it painfully obvious that I have many flaws.  Cancer didn't create that in me.  That's just who I am.  Cancer didn't make me more damaged than before.  It may have covered up some of my pride and selfishness with sickness and disease, but it never warped me from an angel to someone unloveable or hideous or pathetic.  I have always struggled and I continue to do so.  But if the Father loved me back in highschool and through college and through the Navy and through the first year of marriage, He absolutely loves me now.  And that love covers over all of my mess.  It always has and it always will, no matter what evil lies crouched at my door.  This, to me, is the reason for holding on to a faith that doesn't make sense all the time and praying to a God that sometimes seems cruel and giving my life over to a religion that I find very difficult to explain to others.  Because in July of 2000 I stood in front a crowd condeming myself for all of the things I had tried to do right but ended up doing wrong.  In that moment I asked God if he really wanted the mess that I had become and without hesitation I heard a joyous "YES!" in my mind.  And that is what I love about Jesus.  He loves me.  And I don't have to do anything for it.  Santification is a process and one that I am pretty much a passive participant in.  Jesus takes my crap - crap that has been done to me, crap that has been said about me, crap that I believe about myself, crap that I give to the ones I love the most, to my co-workers, to my church, to the world - and wipes it away.  Day by day.  He gives me hope that I can start again, that things can get better, that I can only do what I can do.  And that what I can do is enough.  So even though cancer was devastating, I believe God is good.  And so what if it took me six months after I was cured to contribute to society again, I believe God is patient.  I believe God is nearby and not far away, that He is breathed in with every breath, and that He does care, deeply.  I don't think God wanted me to have cancer - I don't think He wanted the world to ever have to know what cancer was.  I don't know why the world is so cruel and empty and I sometimes scream at God for not coming today to set it right again.

 

But I do know I am loved.  And to me, that is worth everything.

So, on to the next big adventure...

We are moving this summer.  Danny will graduate with his Masters of Divinity in May and then will begin a PhD program in New Testament in August.  So far he has been accepted to two programs and we are waiting to hear from the third.  We'll be going to either Chicago, Denver, or Lexington.  I will need to find a job and hopefully be able to get a management position with Marriott.  I am thrilled to start over in a new place with Danny and establish ourselves as a couple in a new community (with our cutesy kitties).  To find a church together, to explore the area together, to discover a new favorite restuarant together, and... 

start the process of adopting a baby!  Both Danny and I are so excited about this, even though we are still in the very early stages.  A natural born baby may come afterwards, but that is still up in the air.  We think that I will be able to get pregnant and that is another thing cancer didn't end up taking from us, what a blessing.  Since the Ryman and my new medicine, I have had much more vigor and motivation to do something other than sleep and watch tv.  Out of that came...    

a new business called Painted Patchwork.  Cancer scared me in the "do I really enjoy what I'm doing with my life?" sort of way.  Being creative makes me happy and I've found a cool outlet for it.  I'm painting different quilt blocks on 4" by 4" canvas' in all different colors and selling them.  My Etsy shop should be up and running in less than a month.  You can check it out (eventually) at www.etsy.com/shop/PaintedPatchwork if you like.  Most of the profit will go into our adoption fund.

 

Thank you everyone for the incredible outpouring of support and love you've shown me and Danny.  Thank you to all of your who sent me things in the mail - they reminded me that I wasn't alone.  Thank you for those who gave us money - there is no possbile way we could have gotten through it without it.  Thank you to Laura and Jeff who called me almost every day to check in on me even though they were so far away.  Thank you to all of the people who came to clean our house from top to bottom before my first chemo round.  Thank you to Julie who drove 20 hours twice just to be by me and pray over me.  Thank you to Trisha who came to babysit me when I was in pain and doped up on drugs and Danny had to be at school.  Thank you to Beth who bought me my scarf of strength and let me cry on her when I hated my short hair cut that she had paid for.  Thank you to my Dad who drove down to watch the Muppets with us after my leg biopsy.  Thank you to Tiffany who took time to make us chemo appropriate food and stop by just to chat.  Thank you to my MILLY and Stever for sacrificing their vacation time to clean the cat litter, make us dinner, give Danny a much needed break, and for making my prayer blanket.  Thank you to Jordan who woke up early and spent the day with Danny while I was in chemo to help keep him steady.  Thank you to Jim who prayed over me every night before chemo and gave me courage.  Thank you to my Mom, who basically paid all of my medical bills, who sat next to me when I found out the chemo would likely cause infertility, who made me Neebo to be my chemo friend, for offering to basically quit her job to help us, for spending countless hours in waiting rooms and doctor's offices, for listening to me cry on the phone when I felt like a disappointment, for putting together puzzles quietly with me, and for being the mom every girl wishes for.  

And my Danny.  Danny was there getting me ice packs and heating pads for those weeks I couldn't sleep because the pain in my leg was so great.  Danny was there enforcing my crutch usage when they found the tumor in my leg.  Danny was there was the doctor said it was cancer and he was there that weekend when we didn't know what would happen next.  Danny was there for that first day getting chemo, when I was so afraid I was throw up on the floor or cry the whole time and embarrass myself.  He got me lunch at Jimmy Johns and tucked in my blanket around my feet and got me a Sprite with a straw to drink.  He let me be who I needed to be so that I could get through it.  He was there that night when my world came crashing down and was still there in the morning.  He had to stop using so much garlic in his stir-fry because it made me sick.  He had to keep the tv off because it made me sick.  He patiently comforted me every day, every hour, every minute.  He drew baths for me and made me food.  He cried with me and for me.  I know now that wherever I may go, he will be with me.  And whatever I must face, he will stand next to me.  We are stronger and better together.  Thank you baby for enduring this with me.  We did it.

I'm such a diva!

So today I had two exciting cancer related things happen!  I've been back at work since Sunday and doing well.  Today I went in for my Wednesday check-up, which is when I go into the cancer center and they draw blood to moniter how I'm doing in response to the chemo.  Last round I had totally normal blood levels the week after chemo but a slightly low white blood cell count two weeks after.  This round, again, a week after I had normal levels but today they were all over the place!  I don't know what any of the numbers mean, but evidentally while "normal" white blood cell levels are between 4.5-9 somethings, mine were at 1.3 somethings.  And that was one of 13 levels that were out of the normal range.  It's so weird because I feel totally fine.  So I had to get an injection today of Neupogen and return for two more over the next two days.  It's supposed to make my bones ache and give me flu-like symptons, so that's cool, but hopefully I won't have to postpone my (fingers crossed) last chemo treatment.  So far I still feel pretty good so maybe I'm one of the few who's body is so awesome that I don't get any of the side effects.  Of course, if my body was so awesome I probably wouldn't have such a low WBC.  Hmmm.  Let's not dwell...

After my slightly depressing visit to the cancer clinic, I went to the American Cancer Society for a wig.  Now I know what you're thinking - Naomi, I thought you were too good for a wig!  I thought you said wigs were lame and you were gonna let your few strands of hair flow freely in the wind for all to see!  Well no worries friends, I will continue to make other people awkward with my almost bald head the majority of the time.  (Just today a near stranger came up to me and poked the top of my head while saying "boop boop!"  Is that now a socially acceptable ice breaker?  Does that really communicate the love and support I would hope you would want to give a person going through cancer?  Makes me honestly laugh - people are so funny.)  However, I am banking on going to this CA wedding at the end of August and I feel like my bald head distracts from the totally gorgeous dress I'm going to be wearing.  Plus, I will have about 30000000000000 pictures taken on me on that day and it would be awesome to be able to look them without immediately thinking cancer.  So screw you cancer!  Come Sept. 1st, I'm gonna look more hot than pathetic! 

The wig I settled on looks pretty much like my hair (I think).  Dark brown, super straight, and long.  I think I love it.  It reminds me of how my hair looked on my wedding day, which makes me happy.  Plus, the wig can actually be styled if I want it to be, which is cool.  The wig style is "diva" - not kidding - so we'll see if I can live up to it haha.     

I didn't have a heart attack!

Hey everyone :)  I know it's been a while.  To catch you up...  My second round of chemo went very well, all things considered.  My recovery time was much faster and my wonderful PILs (parents-in-law)  were here, taking care of me and helping Danny keep the house clean.  I went back to work soon after and worked really hard for about a week and a half over the 4th of July.  We had a huge kids baseball tournament in Kingsport and the majority of the teams were staying at my hotel, which lead to a few very chaotic evenings.  I had one day off and then I was back at the cancer center, getting my third treatment.  Before the treatment we got to talk to the doctor who confirmed that I will only have to get FOUR treatments before he will attempt to get my insurance to approve another PETscan.  If that scan comes back cancer free, then I will be done with the main portion of my chemotherapy.  This would be SO AMAZING - not only would I only have to get one more treatment but I would more than likely be well enough to travel for my brother's wedding at the end of August.  We are desperately hopeful.

The third treatment has been easier than the first, but more difficult than the second.  My mom came to stay with us for a week after treatment and it was so awesome to have her here.  However, I think I may have pushed myself a little too fast to get better simply because I wanted to enjoy time with my mom.  I've continued to feel headache-y, stomachache-y, and weak longer than I did the last time through.  And then yesterday, we had a little bit of a scare.  Since my mom had left on Tuesday morning, I had been feeling off again.  Nothing I could put my finger on, just not feeling good.  I was due to go in for my 8th day blood draw on Wednesday and about 15 minutes before I was going to get in the car, I stretched a little.  All of a sudden, the entire left side of my chest and left arm got very tight and my port felt like it was being crushed or something.  I couldn't shake or massage the tension out.  It was very scary - I've never felt anything like it before.  I got in the car and called Danny.  He ran out of school and met me at the cancer center.  On the trip over, my arm still hurt and my heart would intermittently get very tight and then slowly kind of echo out.  The nurses took me right back and did an EKG.  Everything in my heart looked fine.  After hours of this and that, we ended up at a hospital in Kingsport for an ultrasound of my left side to look for blood clots.  Nothing there either.  So now I'm back home relaxing, but we don't really know what happened.  We are cautious because my type of chemotherapy can easily damage the heart or create blood clots - our ultrasound tech took extra time and shared that she was actually surprised not to find any from hearing my symptoms and treating others on my type of chemo regime.  So we are thankful that everything appears ok, but still a little wary.  I'm just anxious to feel back to normal, which appears to be still a few days away.  To celebrate me not having a heart attack, Danny and I grabbed some dinner on the way home and got a picture.  You can see I still have on the hospital bracelet for added sympathy points.  ;)

 

Other than cancer, we do have some fun things going on.  I have decided to learn French to prepare for some possible adventures in the future.  I completely suck at it thus far.  Danny and I have learn to play the game Dominion, which we both love.  We are also currently going through How I Met Your Mother on Netflix and enjoying it.  My mom bought me the prettiest dress in all of America to wear to Jeff and Laura's wedding - it's like a cool sea foam green and it looks like I am one with the ocean.  Danny started his new job at school and so far it's going great.  Thank you all for continuing to support us in all of this!

Potentially not as devastating!

Yesterday I had my second chemo treatment.  The day started off with a bang - Danny and I woke up to the worst smell our nostrils have ever encountered.  Danny walked into the bathroom to find that one of our cats, Charlie, had pooped and peed on our bathmat while the other cat, Amos, had pooped in the CatGenie but we had mistakenly put in the wrong cleaning solution and the CatGenie proceeded to shred, re-wet, and bake the toxic smelling poop. throwing the odor into every particle of air throughout the entire house.  I had to brush my teeth on the porch, that's how bad it was.  SO frustrating, especially since we had just had the house thoroughly cleaned the day before and I was off to chemo.  Our pastor and good friend Jordan came over to take us to chemo and then spend the day with Danny until I was done.  We told him the wrong time so he showed up at 8am instead of 8:45am, about 2 minutes after Danny and I had rolled out of bed and cussed at the cats.  He also choose to spend his time waiting to go outside of the house.  Great start to a great day haha...

I was less apprehensive going to the appointment this time just because I knew what to expect.  Such a blessing.  I could enjoy time with Danny and Jordan while we stopped to pick up donuts, coffee, and a sandwich for later.  Last time I was too afraid to eat anything the morning of because I thought I would be throwing it up later in the day.  This time I know that the one thing that made me feel worse was not having enough in my stomach and not consistently flushing the system, so I've been trying to eat more.  We got to the Cancer Center at 9:15.  I got blood work done at 9:45.  We walked back to a room to speak with the doctor at 10.  We actually spoke to the doctor at 11.  The chemo started around 11:30 and finished up around 5.  Knowing that it would take a little while for the sickness to catch up with me, Danny and I got Jimmy Johns for dinner on the way home.  I started feeling a little sick around 8pm - just light headed, loss of energy, that sweeping overwhelming feeling that makes me tear up instantly, and this strange feeling like you could throw-up at any moment but you don't really feel sick.  That last bit I think is because of the anti-nausea medicine.  I slept very well and have just relaxing all day today, with only a few minor break downs.  I feel exponentially better today than I did at this time last round.  Don't get me wrong, I'm still pretty pathetic, but just having the motivation to write a blog post and be able to sit in front of the computer is testimony to how much better I feel as compared to last time.  All I can do is continue to pray that this round would roll over me gently.  

We have had more people stop by and deliver food to us this round, which I was a little nervous about.  Last round I just didn't eat much at all and really strong smelling food didn't help me feel any better.  However, my gorgeous friend Tiffany and a wonderful woman at church named Tommie brought us meals that are so good and so sensitive to my strange and specific diet at the moment.  It seems like it's easier to eat this round because I have a few more options to work with.  We are so blessed.  

In other news, Danny interviewed for a new job yesterday and he thinks it went well.  His current job is at the hospital and it is inconsistent at best.  We haven't been able to rely on it for steady income, which makes planning and budgeting difficult.  We are really excited about this job possibility - it would really help compensate for the income I've lost from not being able to work as much.  

Cheers to a potentially not as completely devastating round!             

Just call me Evie...

Life has definitely moved faster since I last wrote. I was right in thinking I was finally over the worst of it on my last post - my health has continued to improve and I am seriously in awe of how good I feel. There were little accomplishments every day - Friday (day 10) I drove to Target by myself on a mission to get Danny a present and it was the first time I felt good enough to leave the house on my own. On Saturday (day 11) I celebrated getting through a whole day of eating without having to run immediately to the bathroom afterward. On Sunday (day 12) I went to the track and actually ran a half mile (in embarrassingly short increments mind you, but whatever)!! That was the first time I had run since before November (which was when my leg tumors began fracturing my tibia from the inside). While on the track, I was completely overwhelmed with emotion and ended up tearing up in front of this kind ogre of a man that happened to be walking nearby. Haha, leave it to cancer to break down walls between people. :) I was just so thankful that I felt good and so amazed at my body - how extraordinary we are designed. I mean, I had just poured bags and bags full of poison into my body 12 days earlier! On Monday, I went back to work. I have been working every day since (except for a really nice break yesterday).  Of the past 7 days of work, my boss asked me to stand MOD on 5 of them!  It was a little overwhelming at first, going from zero exertion to 100% effort, but I got through it.  It felt so good to really feel like I was contributing again.  And everyone at work has been so kind to me, making me feel like I had really been missed while I was sick.

Last Thursday I woke up to a new surprise - my hair officially began to fall out and quickly. In the shower that day I washed my hair and every time I ran my fingers through it to rinse out the shampoo, I would come away with my hand covered with strands of hair. It didn't come out in clumps or sections, like I thought it might, its just seemed like random hairs all over my head decided to jump ship. It was like a bunch of lemmings - every time I would run my hand through my hair, more and more follicles decided to join their friends in the trash can.  I wanted to get all of the loose ones out so that they didn't just fall out on my shoulders or heaven forbid into someone's food, but after standing over a garbage can for 5 minutes straight pulling loads out I figured out that I would be bald before the night ended if I didn't stop.  The next day Danny and I went to Jane's beauty shop (a friend from church) and she buzzed it.  I was really concerned that my lack of hair would be a huge distraction at work that night and the guests would choke on their food and gawk at me as I passed by, but it turned out not to be a big deal.  I had brought a scarf in to cover up if I was feeling awkward, but I didn't end up using it.  I may wear scarves more when I am totally bald, but with half of my hair still in place and only a centimeter long, the scarves pull on my scalp and it makes them more of a nuisance than their worth.  Now that it's all said and done, I really don't mind my new look much at all.  It's weird when the wind blows and it feels like someone is pouring water on my head, but I'm sure it's something I'll get used to.
 
We are trying to gear up for the next round of chemo, which I'll be getting on Wednesday (only 2 days away now, poop on a stick).  I am hopeful that this time won't be as bad as last time since we are now armed with much more knowledge and experience.  I have a few new medicines that we think will prevent some of the symptoms from last round, I have a lounge chair on the porch to perch on for hours away from some of the nausea-inducing sounds and smells that live inside our house, and we are stocked up with high fiber wraps and shredded cheese for quick quesadillas.  Someone is supposed to come and clean the house tomorrow (hallelujah!) and I've already got The Glee Project in my Hulu queue to watch on Wednesday while I'm stuck in the depressing chemo ward.  Most importantly, this time I know that the pain WILL subside eventually and that I won't feel horrible forever.  That knowledge is absolutely priceless.  Danny's parents are coming to visit at the end of this week and we are both VERY excited to see them (even though that may not come across when they arrive because I'll be so drugged out).  Not the most thrilling of vacations for them, but it means the world to us.
  
I know I haven't been good about returning emails or sending thank yous to the many of you that have contacted us and encouraged us with your unfaltering support.  Please forgive me.  I have always been terrible at correspondence and the cancer hasn't seemed to make that any easier.  I am very very thankful for all of you that are choosing to walk with us through this.  The notes, emails, packages, texts, and calls mean more than you know.

Lastly (but not least!), a dear friend of mine from my old church in Asheville (shout out to my Breakthrough family!!) has created a line of very cute and well made products under her small business called Unique 31 that, if ordered, will directly profit us.  She has designed three different awesome hats, headbands, and flower clips especially for us that you can peruse in her online store here: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.372845712779669.87784.202529366477972&type=1  If you are interested in buying something, simply send Jen a message through Facebook and she will give you detailed instructions on how to complete the purchase.  Every little bit helps and we are completely humbled by Jen's offer to make these beautiful creations in an effort to support us.  If you have time, please go and look at the page to see if anything strikes your fancy!

To believe that there is nothing else to fear...

So let's try this again.  This time, I think I actually am out of the worst of it.  Last post I foolishly thought that was true until I took another pretty hard spiral down into oblivion.  This disease, this treatment - every day brings new difficulties, new pain, new fears.  My heart breaks for every single person that is touched by it.  Now that I'm feeling better it's easier for me to say that I'm lucky, that it wasn't half as bad as it could have been.  The body forgets pain so quickly, it's incredible.  Seven days of horror and then it's mostly over - I can do that.  I have to do it.  I'm hoping the next time through will be a little more bearable just because I'll have some idea of what's going on.

This whole last week has been marked by fear.  All of these pains were new to me and I didn't know what would ease them in the slightest, how long they would remain, or what would make them more angry.  I was afraid to eat and afraid to not eat, afraid to take medicine and afraid not to, afraid to turn on the tv, afraid to sleep too long, afraid to move too quickly, afraid to look at the computer screen - I was a hot mess.  Paralyzed by and overwhelmed with fear.  You can verify this by asking anyone who spoke to me during days 5-7, which I lovingly call the Sob Phase.  I don't think I've ever cried like I did during that time before in my life.  Thankfully I had Neebo to wipe my tears away, repeatedly.  And my sweet family to call (seriously, I think my soon to be sister Laura saved my life one very dark morning).  And my husband who patiently endured my nonstop complaining.  And my God, and this song I sang over and over to myself:

The Greatness Of Our God

Give me eyes to see more of who you are
May what I behold still my anxious heart
Take what I have known and break it all apart
For you my God are greater still...

Give me grace to see beyond this moment here
To believe that there is nothing else to fear
And that you alone are high above it all
For you my God are greater still...

I am SO THANKFUL to be feeling more like myself.  There is so much to write, but I'm still a little gun shy of staying in front of the computer for long.  I wore earplugs for a few days last week because the sound of the refrigerator was making me nauseated, so yea, I'm a little protective over my potential sensitivities.  What's most important is that I have survived this far and I'm now almost back to myself (except for an incredibly finicky stomach and not having much physical endurance).  One down, seven (oh sweet Jesus PLEASE make it more like two) more to go.  

After a brief intermission...

So I guess it's probably about time for me to climb out of my self-pitying hole and let you guys know that I'm alive.  And ok, all things considered.  It's been five days now since chemo.  The first few days I just sat.  I sat and I stared and I waited to feel better.  Everything seemed like it was too hard, too exhausting, completely overwhelming.  Lifting my arm.  Forming words.  Being engaged in anything.  You know something is very wrong and you know that you feel very sick, but you can't explain it and you can't make it better.  I felt like it took everything I had in me to simply sit and stare and wait.  I was very sensitive to things, especially noises.  The hum of the refrigerator, the tv, the cat litter box, they all made my head ache in this strange sort of sensory overload.  Just the thought of so many foods made my stomach turn.  The foods I do eat taste off - the worst is water.  I love water and I need to drink a lot of it, but every sip tastes and smells like dirty chalk.  I know it doesn't seem like a big thing, but when you're already feeling quesy... I've been taking Prednisone every day since last wednesday to complete the chemo round and these pills are so nasty.  Even after I wrap them up in a fruit roll-up so I can swallow them, they haunt me a few hours later when everything I eat tastes like the bitter bitter powder they are made of.

But all of that to say, I think I've been spared of much.  A lot of people can't stop retching for the first few days and I haven't done it once.  Some people get this horrible pin prick pain in their mouth for days and I haven't.  I've tried to be diligent to brush my teeth, wash my hands, and take my medicines (even though I know I'm not a model student).  I am hoping the worst is over for this cycle.  I can't even begin to think about going back in again for another round.  I don't know how people do this and continue working or taking care of their families.  I don't know how you would do anything but sit and stare and wait.

Today I talked on the phone.  I've put together two jigsaw puzzles.  I sleep, I eat a little (almonds, noodles, cereal, rice, bread), I brush my teeth, I sit, I take a bath, I take a nap, I eat a little, I brush my teeth.  I am so thankful to be able to be so incredibly selfish.  I know it's been hard for Danny, I can't imagine how hard, but we are just trying the best we can to figure out how to do this.  I have yet to find the instruction manual on "How to laugh through Chemotherapy while lovin' life!"  The fact is that this is painfully real and unimaginably difficult and I was not prepared.  We weren't prepared.  How do you possibly prepare for this?

I am so thankful for all of you out there that are helping to carry the burden, that are sending prayers up to the great Healer and Comforter for me, who make it your business to check in and graciously allow me to preserve my words and my strength for another time, who I know are fighting for my health and my joy on a daily basis in the simple ways that you love me so well.  Please, I beg you, keep it up - I now have a taste of how much more may be required of me as the weeks go by and it is so so frightening.  We are struggling, blindly trying to make sense of something that doesn't make sense.  Trying to fit something into our lives we never welcomed in.