I am approaching 4 weeks on this nutrition change. I have hit ups and downs all along the way. Thankfully, I have many at my disposal working on meal plans, recipes, etc. I have felt everything from excitement as I cook and try new things all the way to anger and eating maybe too many of my gluten-free, low carb brownies. I think I am an emotional eater. When I would get down or angry, a handful of frozen chocolate chips was not uncommon to pop in my mouth. Now I am in this place where that comfort, that coping mechanism has been taken away. Excuses can go on and on… but bottom line is I don’t like this. And I am sure you all know that, but I still need to just say it.
And as time goes on things change and progress. I have not been blessed so far with stabilization or regression. I fully expected to see a change by now. Maybe the cancer would not be gone or even smaller, but I really thought at least stable. But in the last 2 weeks, I have been in more pain, more tired, and had a harder time breathing than I have in the past. I have said many times in the pasr that I feel great, I feel normal… it is so weird that there is cancer all over, because I can’t tell. Well, I am finally at the point that I can no longer say that. Off of all the treatments, the chemo, I feel the cancer. The ache is my bones, particularly my legs, is unbearable at times. It interrupts my sleep, my play with the kids, my energy. My lung is still striving to get air and that makes everything from taking out the trash to reading books at bedtime difficult. The hard truth that I don’t even want to type is that I feel like I am dying. I feel like this is what the end feels like. It’s not a chemo dose that will run its course. Its not one of the many shots that makes me feel bad for a day or two. This is cancer. This is what it does. It invades every, EVERY, aspect of my life.
This week, I will have a radiation planning appointment. I will begin pin-point radiation on my hips and femurs. The worry is that for those main weight-bearing areas, if the cancer grows too widespread and weakens the bone, I am at risk for fracture or breaks. And I recall my doctor saying, “If you break a hip, you will never make it out of the hospital.” Honest, right? So to help ease some of the pain, to attack the cancer in those spots, and to give the bone a chance to regenerate, I will do 10 days of a low dose radiation here in Austin. I am hoping that it gives me some real relief.
But what after that? I don’t know. Do I go back to chemo? Does chemo potentially give me more time? I don’t know. These decisions would be so much easier if we just knew the answer. For now, we covet your prayers. Prayers for wisdom. Prayers for pain relief. Prayers to be able to enjoy what we have today. Prayers that God will still heal. The great thing about hope is that nothing can ever take it away. I can have hope up until my very last breath. A belief that my God can do anything. The struggle of this is knowing He can and not understanding why He doesn’t. Accepting this life and this journey that has been laid out for me since the beginning of time. Faithfully accepting the grace that God gives me to make it through the next curve and letting that be enough.
My heart is heavy. My heart aches for healing. But my soul is covered in the love of my Savior. I have never been more thankful for the gift of salvation than now, looking into the eyes of death. Believing that all I had to do was say yes and Jesus did the rest. That when that day comes, despite the grieving there will be rejoicing. Oh, how I don’t understand it, but my soul pushes me on to believe it every day.