Step by Step

If you've wondered what it looks like to get chemo... here's a picture for you. They try and make it as comfortable as they can. Pillows, warm blankets, tv's etc. Smoke and mirrors my friends, smoke and mirrors.

Truth be told, the getting of the chemo isn't all that bad (except the days I get it in my abdomen... that isn't my favorite.) It's the days following. The emotional state has been much more grueling than the physical state. I had no idea. And this week (as I ended my fourth round) I have really struggled emotionally.

First, our computer bit the dust (that is why it's taken me so long to do a post... I'm using Steve's work computer.) That has been a big bummer. Blogging really helps me get my thoughts and feelings out and without my blogging release, I find I've got some things bottled up.

With Mother's Day coming up soon, I've been a little sad as I re-live last Mother's Day. It was the last real visit I had with my mom. We had a great time, went out for a drive and for ice cream and laughed a lot. The following Tuesday she went to the hospital and never came back home.

Since starting chemo, I've mostly been relieved that she was not here to worry and fret about my situation. I've been so focused on my own stuff that I just haven't *gone there* about my mom's death too often. But I feel like in the face of these next few weeks that lead up to the anniversary of her death, June 11th, I can't help but feel deeply about the passing of my mom. I miss her so much and when I'm swimming in the raw emotion and fear of the last two chemo treatments (that seem utterly overwhelming and not do-able), I wish she were here to process with, cheer me on and snuggle me. The anniversary of her death will coincide with my final *rough week* of treatment and I fear I won't have the emotional resources to deal with all of it.


We celebrated 8 years of marriage on Tuesday, May 3rd. As we did, it was good to reflect on some fun memories. It was also good to process on the past year of our marriage, and what could have sunk many couples, has brought us closer together and strengthened our bond.

But it also made me sad. Sad that as we went out for a celebratory dinner, I have no hair (I did wear a scarf to dinner, but Steve wanted a picture of the two of us, me w/ no scarf, to document this point in our journey.) Honestly, up until now, having no hair has not really bothered me. But this week, even baldness caught up with me.

I feel like a weary traveller. I hate to complain. There are so many others who do not have the great prognosis that I have. Or they have a disease that has no cure. I have much to be thankful for, and I am. It's just that I've reached this part of the race where I fear I can't take one more step. The finish line is in sight but I'm losing momentum. I know, in actuality, I can make it. It is one foot in front of the other, right? But my feet are cramping up. I want to lay down and quit. And the reality is, I still have nearly a year of chemo to follow. This race, the really hard and brutal part is nearly over, but the full race continues. As does the faith journey. It's 5 years out until I'm considered cured. Can I REALLY trust for that long? I guess I don't have another choice.

Forgive me, friends, if I am a whiner today. I just needed to get it out so that I can take that next step. Pray that I will!