Red Devil #1
It’s been a roller coaster of a week. I was nervous driving to the Asplundh Cancer Pavilion for my first AC infusion on Monday. Anthony and I prayed on our drive (on Twining Road) as we usually do. This time, specifically asking for eyes to see what God was doing behind the scenes—his kingdom work. And wouldn’t you know, one of our first interactions of the morning was with a healthcare worker who (knowing Anthony was a pastor) asked us for prayer for a difficult personal need. Praying together in that exam room was a tearful, sacred moment for all three of us, and reminded me that God is indeed in the details and at work even when I can’t see. That interaction gave me what I needed to get through the infusion. God was with me, and I was ready to get this underway to get to the other side.
Late Monday and Tuesday brought moderate nausea, but it seemed to be controlled by eating (brought back pregnancy nausea vibes). The downturn of severe nausea, fatigue and discouragement came Wednesday afternoon and didn’t relent. Here is an entry from my journal over these past few days:
Oh God, my cries to you have reached new levels of desperation. I plead with you for help and comfort and relief. I am weary—physically, emotionally, spiritually. Everything feels hard and my body is miserably "off." The persistent nausea (despite the meds), the draining fatigue, the buzzing neuropathy (not to mention constipation, hot flashes, mouth sores), and the weight of knowing I have three more of these infusions to go (Can I do this? I have to do this.)—it's so overwhelming.
I know I'm not the first to cry out to you this way. I resonate with the psalmist's words: “tears have been my food” (Psalm 42:3) and “I am weary with my moaning” (Psalm 6:6). It’s good to call out to you. Thank you for interpreting even my unintelligible cries. I know you hear, and I know you care. Jesus, I know you get it at the deepest level…you too cried out to your father in distress (Luke 22:42-44).
Reading Psalm 6 this morning gave words to my prayers…
O LORD, rebuke me not in your anger, nor discipline me in your wrath. Be gracious to me, O LORD, for I am languishing; heal me, O LORD, for my bones are troubled. My soul also is greatly troubled. But you, O LORD—how long?
Turn, O LORD, deliver my life; save me for the sake of your steadfast love. For in death there is no remembrance of you; in Sheol [the place of the dead] who will give you praise?
I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping. My eye wastes away because of grief; it grows weak because of all my foes [cancer].
Depart from me, all you workers of evil, for the LORD has heard the sound of my weeping. The LORD has heard my plea; the LORD accepts my prayer. All my enemies shall be ashamed and greatly troubled; they shall turn back and be put to shame in a moment.
I’ve appreciated Poor Bishop Hooper’s musical version of Psalm 6 here.
Through my tears this week, sometimes all I could weakly muster was, “Lord, help.” He has been near, helping me moment by moment. I’ve had manna for the day. And knowing so many of you are also crying out for God’s mercy on our behalf, is such a sustaining comfort. Thank you!
Thankfully, today (Sat), while nausea is still there, it’s been better. Hopefully, I’m on the upswing. I’m grateful to get this week off before my next infusion. Praying this coming week will be restorative and that I’ll be ready for round 2 when it’s time.
In other good news, Asher passed his driver’s test this week and is now a licensed driver—so happy for him! Both kids had a blast at YoungLife camp last week. Maddie (with work crew) will stay for another week. Thanks for your prayers for them!
Prayer:
For endurance through the short term side effects of this chemo—specifically, nausea and fatigue.
For protection from long term neuropathy. The buzzing and numbness all over my body has increased with this chemo. I’m now taking Gabapentin 3x a day. Please pray that this side effect too will be short term and not ongoing. For wisdom for the doctors—we are discussing this at my next appointment before my next infusion.
That this chemo will kill the cancer while passing over and preserving the healthy parts of my body. (Anthony calls this the “passover prayer” 🙂)
That my liver and blood numbers will remain stable. I won’t get a blood test until this Friday just before my next infusion.
For freedom from fear regarding these final 3 infusions. Right now, I start to cry when I think of that red chemo going into my body again. But this is the way forward. Please pray for courage to take the next step.
For strength, hope and encouragement for Anthony as he continues to carry a lot of the load at home over this season.
Pictures: (1) Our sweet nurse, Danielle, was a good gift during my infusion this week. (2) As of this week, Asher is now a licensed driver!