Being with my mom at The Block Center during my treatment created a different dynamic this week. I would say there were other factors that made the experience different in the first place. For instance, I was not recovering from anesthesia this time around. While I was coming in a little weaker than the first treatment, having just started feeling more like myself for maybe 4-5 days before having to return, I believe I was still in a better place. My body does not deal well with anesthesia. I need prayer surrounding that for my upcoming surgery later this summer...(more on that later).
It was nice to have my mom there so that she could experience The Block Center as compared to the sometimes/somewhat traumatic memories we share of our time together during my first cancer treatment. We did recall all of the blessings during our time in 1991-92 and all of the amazing people we met on our journey. It seems whenever you are in a dark spot of life the light of resiliency and hope still shines so brightly. We met many bright and hopeful people that year going through some of the most difficult things I had ever encountered.
At the Block Center this week my mom introduced herself to many of the people around me. I, being more alert and aware this week was able to interact as well. It was a pattern and style of interacting that I remembered well from our first days in the hospital in Michigan, learning our way through the hallways, medical-speak and way of life as full-time cancer patient/caregiver. My mom and I, in those days, had designated ourselves as the welcoming committee at Mott Children's Hospital in Ann Arbor. We provided an unofficial orientation of sorts. We gained many friends that way and worked to encourage others as they began their cancer journey.
That day at The Block Center, in a much different setting than the clinical one we had spent much time in in the past, led by my mom's extroverted introductions, we strolled the hard-wood floors and smiled at others sitting in their recliners, stopping in to chat when the opportunity arose. It was nice to talk with others and hear their stories, journeys and struggles. While every experience was so different there was comfort in knowing we were not alone. I hoped that our story and struggles were in some way comforting to those who listened as well.
Today, as I write this, I realize there is much more to say on this subject but my mind is so sluggish. I've been very tired and somewhat lethargic today. My body is recovering. My mind is trying to keep up.
Earlier today, soon after first waking when I was at my sharpest, I read this article, link provided here: http://christinecaine.com/content/my-story-of-healing/gjm8iw Christine Caine is a writer, speaker, singer, worship and ministry leader from Australia. The article she wrote about her cancer experience is yet another account of faith, fear, healing and struggle. It is a hopeful account of one woman's journey and that is why I share it.
I remember even in my weakest days in 1991-92, nurses would ask if they could send someone in to talk, or if I would feel up to meeting "the new kid". My mom probably did more than I, spending time and sharing tears with other parents, while we the patients slept. I know this: we draw strength from one another. Hearing about the testimonies of strength and hope in the midst of pain and suffering encourages me to dig deep and find the fortitude I need to carry on. And in the times I feel I have nothing to give I know that merely sharing my struggle with another may just be the encouragement they need to find the way through their own challenge.
Friday, April 17, 2015
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Second Day 1, Done
Yesterday was a better experience because I wasn't dealing with the after-effects of anesthesia which had been difficult to recover from during my first treatment after my port-placement surgery. While it is an outpatient surgery and the anesthetics are light, my body doesn't handle them well and so it was a bit of a struggle for a few days.
My mind was sharp yesterday, until the benadryl, but for the most part sharp! I felt accomplished. I started the day with 15 minutes on the tread mill to reduce chemo toxicity. That's 5 more minutes than last treatment. I was able to meet with the financial person to discuss lodging options and possible reduced medical rates for my next treatment stay and of course we discussed bills accrued.
Later, my mom and I introduced ourselves around, or were introduced, to some of the other wellness warriors and families in treatment alongside of me. I read, wrote, slept (because I needed some catch up after my early morning and probably due to the benadryl) and chatted with my mom (while awake).
The pharmacy stalled our progress a bit so there was some "unplugged" down time where there were no drugs being administered and we had to wait. I didn't mind much due to the fact that I was back in my "Hickory" pod, seated in a comfortable chair with a pile of things I wanted to read or write and all the while the sun was shining down on me from the windows above.
"Ahhh," I thought, "If one has to be treated for cancer I can't think of a better place to be."
Treatment was resumed and we finished out our day around 6pm. I felt stronger than I had last go and was even able to drive away from The Block Center and spend a little shop time at Target before heading BACK to the Cheesecake Factory for another SkinnyLicious French Country Salad with romaine lettuce, fresh beets, grilled asparagus, candied pecans, goat cheese (an indulgence on my diet) and vinagairette.
My mom and I were both very tired by the time we reached the hotel but it was a satisfied and accomplished fatigue. I sewed a couple of hats I had found at Target to better fit my bald head, put on my warm, stocking cap, took my Melatonin and a drink of water and laid down in the Cobbler Pose to begin my new going to bed practices. You can read about them at length in my previous post "Our Bodies are Sacred, Continued Growth in Care and Honoring of Self and Others".
All in all I thank God for a smooth and successful second day one, done.
My mind was sharp yesterday, until the benadryl, but for the most part sharp! I felt accomplished. I started the day with 15 minutes on the tread mill to reduce chemo toxicity. That's 5 more minutes than last treatment. I was able to meet with the financial person to discuss lodging options and possible reduced medical rates for my next treatment stay and of course we discussed bills accrued.
Later, my mom and I introduced ourselves around, or were introduced, to some of the other wellness warriors and families in treatment alongside of me. I read, wrote, slept (because I needed some catch up after my early morning and probably due to the benadryl) and chatted with my mom (while awake).
The pharmacy stalled our progress a bit so there was some "unplugged" down time where there were no drugs being administered and we had to wait. I didn't mind much due to the fact that I was back in my "Hickory" pod, seated in a comfortable chair with a pile of things I wanted to read or write and all the while the sun was shining down on me from the windows above.
"Ahhh," I thought, "If one has to be treated for cancer I can't think of a better place to be."
Treatment was resumed and we finished out our day around 6pm. I felt stronger than I had last go and was even able to drive away from The Block Center and spend a little shop time at Target before heading BACK to the Cheesecake Factory for another SkinnyLicious French Country Salad with romaine lettuce, fresh beets, grilled asparagus, candied pecans, goat cheese (an indulgence on my diet) and vinagairette.
My mom and I were both very tired by the time we reached the hotel but it was a satisfied and accomplished fatigue. I sewed a couple of hats I had found at Target to better fit my bald head, put on my warm, stocking cap, took my Melatonin and a drink of water and laid down in the Cobbler Pose to begin my new going to bed practices. You can read about them at length in my previous post "Our Bodies are Sacred, Continued Growth in Care and Honoring of Self and Others".
All in all I thank God for a smooth and successful second day one, done.
My Momma in the Hickory pod at The Block Center, rockin' the Second, Day One!
Our Bodies are Sacred, Continued Growth in Care and Honoring of Self and Others
Wednesday 4/15/15 3:30 am
As I’ve been learning to regard my body as more than just a vehicle propelling me through life and learning to truly care for myself, my respect for all members of my body has increased. My respect for all members of other’s bodies has increased as well. On a spiritual level I would see others mistreat and misuse themselves in different ways and feel sorrow over the lack of care and concern they had for themselves. I believed I had been caring for myself and perhaps have been all this time on some level, but that level of care is deepening, softening, changing. That care is my primary focus, because if I cannot properly care for myself I will not know how to properly care for others. I teach self-care in many different forms to my clients at my private practice, to my patients in home care and even my coworkers. This is a very important process for me to truly learn, adopt and live.
As I’ve been learning to regard my body as more than just a vehicle propelling me through life and learning to truly care for myself, my respect for all members of my body has increased. My respect for all members of other’s bodies has increased as well. On a spiritual level I would see others mistreat and misuse themselves in different ways and feel sorrow over the lack of care and concern they had for themselves. I believed I had been caring for myself and perhaps have been all this time on some level, but that level of care is deepening, softening, changing. That care is my primary focus, because if I cannot properly care for myself I will not know how to properly care for others. I teach self-care in many different forms to my clients at my private practice, to my patients in home care and even my coworkers. This is a very important process for me to truly learn, adopt and live.
We exploit and ravage our bodies in so many ways. I recognize it more as I embrace this change into a deepening respect for my body. One way I still struggle to maintain appropriate boundaries with myself is in the area of sleep. Most nights I don’t get enough of it. I will do and do and do whatever is in my line of sight that needs doing until it’s after 10 pm and I had told myself to be ready to wind down by 8. Not only that but my mind really turns on at night and I could write and think and write and think until 1am or earlier-and I do sometimes. Even now I was awakened at 3:30 am and my mind won’t shut off. There were thoughts I needed to get out and so here I am trying to get them out so that I can go back to sleep!
So I would encourage anyone to consider ways that they exploit their bodies through food, drink, drugs, lack of sleep, negative thoughts, allowing toxic people in, unlimited stress, inappropriate boundaries (or lack of boundaries altogether), sexual habits and any other way a person might contrive to misuse their one and only personal, God-given resource. Our bodies are resilient and were created to heal themselves but they are not infallible or immortal bodies. We must do what we can to nurture and sustain this precious resource.
It's vital that we continue to grow in respect and honor of our bodies.
I Corinthians 6:19-20 "Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit whom you received from God? You are not your own, you were bought with a price. Therefore, honor God with your bodies."
Thursday 4/16/15 4:45 am
I learned the Cobbler pose in my personalized yoga session on Tuesday and have been utilizing that and the new deep breathing technique I learned there. In this new form of breathing I breathe in and out through the nose. This form of breathing directs the air flow through the nostrils which have a filtering system but also serves to reserve the body's natural moisture. I had always practiced breathing in through the nose and exhaling through the mouth but apparently one loses more moisture in this form of breathing and it's counterproductive if you want to stay well hydrated.
Both Tuesday and Wednesday night I have begun by assuming the Cobbler pose as I get into bed. This pose serves to open up the lymphatic systems giving them plenty of space to do their filtering work. I employ the breathing techniques and hold the pose, arms outstretched for a few minutes, all the while guiding my body into peaceful, healing relaxation. I talk to each part of my body, each muscle group inviting my whole body into this state.
Next I lay hands on the tumor sites and instruct all of my fighter cells and the chemotherapy (once I've had it) that the battle is here and I visualize all those warriors coming to war to finish off the cancer. I imagine the cancer casualties being filtered away by my lymphatic system that is lying open and functioning at top form.
Then I lay hands on each of my organs and pray for proper function, protection and healing. I receive God's promises and remember that by the stripes Christ suffered on the cross I am healed. Isaiah 53: 5 "But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our sins; the punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by His wounds we are healed."
Once I feel my body in a state of complete relaxation and proper function I lengthen and strengthen, first stretching my legs out. I point my toes, then flex my feet and stretch my heels. Next, I extend my arms above my head and hold a stretch. I hold this pose for a few minutes and just feel the benefit and the power in it. Then I return to the Cobbler Pose (I really encourage anyone to look into this pose and to practice it).
I remain in the Cobbler Pose with my hands on my abdomen to provide support to all my filtering systems that are working harder now since the chemotherapy has been introduced to the battle. Then I turn my prayers and healing attention to all those I know who are in need of healing. I pray that God's love and healing which transcends time, distance and space would minister to them. I pray for peace, healing and joy in the midst of the struggle for all involved. I well know that dealing with disease and illness is not one person's effort, it effects all of those who love and care for you.
I pray for joy because I also know how important attitude is in this process. Proverbs 17:22 says, "A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones." I believe it's valuable to pray for the spirit and mindset of each person involved to lift them up!
God's light is never brighter than in our darkest hours.
This is my newly adopted bedtime practice of honoring my body, assisting in its healing process, and also the honor and attention toward the healing processes of others. I feel lifted up by the support, prayers, love and positivity of all of those who text me, call me, message me, comment on Facebook and send me cards in the mail. I have said it before and I will say it again here: I truly feel carried by your prayers through this healing process. It is the hope of my heart to return that strength and support to you in any way that I can.
Thank you. Wherever you are and whatever it is you are dealing with, peace, healing and joy be yours. Amen (So be it).
It's vital that we continue to grow in respect and honor of our bodies.
I Corinthians 6:19-20 "Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit whom you received from God? You are not your own, you were bought with a price. Therefore, honor God with your bodies."
Thursday 4/16/15 4:45 am
I learned the Cobbler pose in my personalized yoga session on Tuesday and have been utilizing that and the new deep breathing technique I learned there. In this new form of breathing I breathe in and out through the nose. This form of breathing directs the air flow through the nostrils which have a filtering system but also serves to reserve the body's natural moisture. I had always practiced breathing in through the nose and exhaling through the mouth but apparently one loses more moisture in this form of breathing and it's counterproductive if you want to stay well hydrated.
Both Tuesday and Wednesday night I have begun by assuming the Cobbler pose as I get into bed. This pose serves to open up the lymphatic systems giving them plenty of space to do their filtering work. I employ the breathing techniques and hold the pose, arms outstretched for a few minutes, all the while guiding my body into peaceful, healing relaxation. I talk to each part of my body, each muscle group inviting my whole body into this state.
Next I lay hands on the tumor sites and instruct all of my fighter cells and the chemotherapy (once I've had it) that the battle is here and I visualize all those warriors coming to war to finish off the cancer. I imagine the cancer casualties being filtered away by my lymphatic system that is lying open and functioning at top form.
Then I lay hands on each of my organs and pray for proper function, protection and healing. I receive God's promises and remember that by the stripes Christ suffered on the cross I am healed. Isaiah 53: 5 "But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our sins; the punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by His wounds we are healed."
Once I feel my body in a state of complete relaxation and proper function I lengthen and strengthen, first stretching my legs out. I point my toes, then flex my feet and stretch my heels. Next, I extend my arms above my head and hold a stretch. I hold this pose for a few minutes and just feel the benefit and the power in it. Then I return to the Cobbler Pose (I really encourage anyone to look into this pose and to practice it).
I remain in the Cobbler Pose with my hands on my abdomen to provide support to all my filtering systems that are working harder now since the chemotherapy has been introduced to the battle. Then I turn my prayers and healing attention to all those I know who are in need of healing. I pray that God's love and healing which transcends time, distance and space would minister to them. I pray for peace, healing and joy in the midst of the struggle for all involved. I well know that dealing with disease and illness is not one person's effort, it effects all of those who love and care for you.
I pray for joy because I also know how important attitude is in this process. Proverbs 17:22 says, "A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones." I believe it's valuable to pray for the spirit and mindset of each person involved to lift them up!
God's light is never brighter than in our darkest hours.
This is my newly adopted bedtime practice of honoring my body, assisting in its healing process, and also the honor and attention toward the healing processes of others. I feel lifted up by the support, prayers, love and positivity of all of those who text me, call me, message me, comment on Facebook and send me cards in the mail. I have said it before and I will say it again here: I truly feel carried by your prayers through this healing process. It is the hope of my heart to return that strength and support to you in any way that I can.
Thank you. Wherever you are and whatever it is you are dealing with, peace, healing and joy be yours. Amen (So be it).
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Don't Worry (make yourself) Be Happy
DAY 0
Don't WorryWhat a beautiful morning! The sun was shining, the children were laughing, I got to lay in bed until about 7. It was lovely. My mom and dad are here for treatment this week. Papa is staying with the boys while Mimi is coming with me to see what The Block Center (I'm calling it "TBC") is all about. Pete will be home for work and home with Papa and the boys in the evening.
My mom and I were packed up in good time. We ran errands without a hitch. Made fairly good time on the drive up to The Block Center. I told my mom on the way how strange the drive was because, on the one hand I was nervous about treatment (due to some difficult side effects the first time) and yet how excited I was to be going back to TCB Checked in, had my port accessed and was ready to go with the Vitamin C by 1230pm.
There is a cooking class four days a week at TCB. We made it just in time to catch the tail end of the demonstration and to enjoy some of the food it had produced. Afterwards I met with the financial personnel who gave me a voucher to stay at an area hotel for the night (we stay 2 nights but only had the one voucher). We planned ahead for my next treatment as well.
Back in the pod I had a talk with the PA about some rough side effects I had after the last treatment (especially but not limited to the most painful stomach cramps I have ever endured in my life to the point of nearly passing out from the pain...). She made some suggestions and told me to discuss them with Dr. Block later. I agreed to most certainly do that.
My mom and I were able to spend some time talking and I caught her up on the full documentation of the head shaving event. We had a little time to chat and soak up the sun streaming in from the windows beside and above us when a friend of mine and former supervisor from The Cancer Support Center came to talk with me. She is now working at TBC and it was so wonderful to get to see her and catch up a bit.
After our visit, I went to a personalized yoga session, which was A.mazing. I want that every day. Because of the space issue my mom was not able to participate but she watched to see what I was learning. I felt so wonderful after stretching, relaxing, meditating, breathing. A.mazing.
Feeling good and back in my pod, not the usual Hickory (that was taken by the time we arrived) but we camped out next door at Fir. I finished up the Vitamin C and had the line capped off until tomorrow.
Dr. Block came to meet with us to end the day. It was so nice to be able to check in with him about the things I had discussed with the PA in regards to the side effects from my first treatment and brainstorming ways to prevent the same from happening this time around. He is a very genuine and pleasant person. Just what I would imagine anyone would want in a doctor. I also appreciate the way he thinks about medicine, and that doesn't always mean conventional medicine. Many of the ideas we came up with for troubleshooting the side effects of last treatment were natural. I was happy that it wasn't more prescriptions. (I have a BOX full of those y'all! Well, I have a box full of supplements too, but still prefer the natural interventions.) We discussed implications for future treatment due to the diagnosis/discovery of Li Fraumeni Syndrome. I will know more about that after my appointment with the genetics counselor in a couple of weeks. We also discussed the referrals he had given for surgeons (both home runs) and I thanked him for each. Both surgeons were kind, personable and took time to talk with me. In such a delicate situation that was exactly what I (and Pete) needed. I have to say it's easy to trust a referral from a doc you really like, and I told Dr. Block as much.
(Make Yourself)
All in all it had been a fine day. TBC was found to be quite warm due to all of the lovely windows that let in such beautiful sunlight so when Mom and I were leaving we decided it would be nice to go to the outdoor mall and walk around, maybe do a little shopping and grab a bite to eat before going to our hotel.
With voucher in hand we went to the first hotel and unloaded the car, walked into the impressive lobby and waited in line for our turn. I was excited at the proposition of staying here even if just for one night. It just looked like such a nice place. Upon reaching the desk I was promptly told that the hotel was booked for the night. I would be able to use the voucher for the following night should I choose. I booked the room for the next night and while a bit put out was undaunted. The parking lot is shared by two separate hotels. We would just scoot across the parking lot and check in there.
I entered the lobby there and inquired about a room. No room at the inn. Hm. I was starting to get a bit worried.
For the next 20 minutes using Yelp and a prayer I called several different area hotels. All booked. On a Tuesday night. Full house. I could not believe it. Pete called soon after receiving the following text from me: "We can never come here without a reservation again." He suggested that he would look on Priceline for a hotel. Within 10 minutes we had a reservation and were checking into the second hotel we had visited.
With a smile on our faces and a collective deep breath we grabbed our room keys and asked where the best place to park would be to unload the vehicle and head to the room. They directed us around to the side of the building nearest our room. This would have been ideal had the elevator not been in the lobby. We parked around side the building and walked with our arms loaded down the length of two and a half halls to get back to the lobby to use the elevator. Double-hm.
With room keys in hand we trekked back down two and a half hallways to get to our assigned room. At the door I said something to my mom and pointed at the door. As I spoke a dog with a deep, gruff voice started barking from the room across the hall. We looked at each other and shook our heads. About face. Back down to the lobby to inquire after another room (which I already knew was more than a long-shot). While going back and forth with not one, not two but three different ladies behind the desk it was determined that we could, no wait, we couldn't be changed to another room.
We resigned ourselves to our lot and headed up to unpack.
Unpacking, I was looking for the pre-medication I was to take that evening at dinner. It is important for me to take this medication to avoid a reaction to the chemotherapy I would be receiving the next day. The search began patiently searching every bag I packed for myself, twice, thrice then turned into a frantic flurry of dumping bags, rearranging purses and ended in a call to Pete. Before I left home my box (yes BOX) of medications had been flung to the floor in a collision with sweet Sammy. I thought perhaps the mediation had rolled under the dresser or chair in the living room. Pete checked and negative on that. So I did what any person in my situation would do, I called the on-call doctor to beg for a prescription. I left a calm but urgent message with the answering service and awaited their return call. They called moments later and connected me with the on-call doc who interrupted my attempts to explain my situation by yelling, "I can't hear you! I'm in my car, you're on speaker phone. Can you speak up?" So I yelled back explaining my situation in detail and she very quickly responded, "I can't help you."
What the what?
"You will have to call your regular doctor and ask him to help you. Call the answering service back and tell them to get in contact with him."
Near tears I called the answering service back and explained in great detail all that the "on-call" doctor had said to me. The woman I spoke to, with a deep sigh, told me she would be make the call.
While waiting for yet another call from another doctor I applied my coping strategies to calm myself down, using the new form of deep breathing I had learned in yoga earlier in the day, telling my body to relax. It was working.
I received a call from said doctor who was very clearly frustrated from the word "Hello."
"I don't know how I'm supposed to help you. I don't have your chart in front of me. I'm not at the office. I don't know what medication you need."
In a soothing tone I explained that I had had the same prescription added to my regime last visit and a Walgreens in the area had filled it. Perhaps they would have record of the exact dosage and could help us. He was agreeable to this idea and instructed me to contact said Walgreens and give them his answering service number. He dictated the number to me and because my pen wouldn't work it took several tries to actually get the number down.
Praise God for Walgreens. I called and gave my name inquired about the script. They told me my refill would be ready in an hour! Just like that. Just. like. that.
I called the answering service and left a message for the doctor that the script was being filled and headed off to a previously scheduled outing with my mom-Whole Foods.
Be Happy
We made our way through some very hefty I-want-to-get-home-after-a-crazy-day-of-work-so-I'm-driving-like-mad traffic in between Skokie and Evanston. As we drove we discussed the events of the evening. I was determined to make sense of it. There HAD to be a lesson in it...just had to be. What was the meaning of it all? My mom and I suggested to one another that perhaps lessons of joy, patience, perseverance, and/or kindness was behind it all.
Thankfully we made it safely to the Whole Foods Store and no not-in-the-bike-lane-cyclists were harmed in the process. It was a nice relaxing time to walk through the store and stock up on the good foods that we would be snacking on for the next couple of days. For me I was anxious to find some of the ingredients and supplements that had been suggested to prevent painful side effects. I found all but one thing and knew that could be found elsewhere so I left encouraged that things were coming together. While in the store perusing I received a text from Walgreens saying that my prescription was ready. I was happy to see the text but hesitant to celebrate just yet. I was able to admit that it seemed as though things were coming together.
Traffic had dissipated since our drive to Whole Foods making our drive from Whole Foods much less stressful. The evening was cooling off, the sun setting and I had applied some newly acquired breathing techniques and smiles to help my shoulders drop and loosen. No need to remain tense, I told myself.
Google Maps took us straight to the Skokie Blvd Walgreens where I purchased pink ear plugs, a bag of almonds and my much-needed prescription all for under $19. I must say I left with a (genuine) smile on my face. Things were coming together and it seemed as though the perseverance, patience (kind of), and kindness my mother and I were determined to practice in the midst of the mess, was paying off.
Happiness is a SkinnyLicious French Country Salad from Cheesecake Factory with romaine lettuce, grilled asparagus, fresh beets, goat cheese, candied pecans and vinaigrette at 8pm with my mom. It was so refreshing to put food in our stomachs and our collective frame of mind truly improved with the nourishment. It also helped that that salad was A.mazing. For the second time today, something was A.mazing. (I'm sure there was more amazing in this day that I may have failed to recognize and will look for more tomorrow!)
“Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, or worn. It is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace & gratitude.” - Denis Waitley
"...and it is only then that pure joy can truly be experienced." -Sarah Falk
James 1:2-4 NIV
Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
James 1:2-4 NIV
Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
Sunday, April 12, 2015
Becoming Through Suffering
At the beginning of March Pete and I were finishing up a conference which I refer to as our spiritual retreat. Presenting at this spiritual retreat were Richard and Nathan Foster, father and son teachers,authors and speakers. Richard Foster wrote a book in the 70's called "The Celebration of Discipline". Nathan took that book, in which Richard outlines 12 spiritual disciplines, and tried to purposefully/intentionally practice each one. This process took him 4 years and he compiled his experiences into a book "The Making of an Ordinary Saint". These two works were the basis of this retreat.
The opening scripture was found in Jeremiah 17: 7-8 "But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to produce fruit."
This idea of the heat and the time of drought was used to illustrate a time of suffering, doubt or trial. Throughout the conference the theme of suffering was reiterated.
A couple weeks ago I had a wonderfully uplifting conversation with a friend of mine, Chaplain Carole. I was telling her about the spiritual retreat and trying to recount what I had learned. I told her about this theme of suffering. Not just suffering in and of itself, but suffering as formation or formation through suffering. God redeems what seems like lost time, or pointless pain. Our suffering is not in vain. Through our pain and suffering we are forced to press in and keep going. We learn more about ourselves, our faith, God and those around us at our point of pain. Our character is shaped and developed in trials and by fire. I don't want my suffering to be meaningless. I want to "become" something through my suffering. Even in times of heat and drought I want to have a fruitful life.
I had a MUGA scan the week before beginning chemotherapy. It is when radioactive tracers are mixed in with a sample of your blood then injected into the arm. The blood sample with tracers head straight for the heart and its then that the scan can capture pictures of the function of the heart. Well, in order to take the blood sample and to inject it requires a couple needle stings. The blood draw was a quick prick and for a moment I found myself wishing I didn't have to feel it.
"Isn't there something they could give to numb a persons arm before doing that?" I thought.
As I lay on the table a bit later to have the blood and tracers injected back into my arm, another thought came to me. "It's just when we numb out and simply decline to embrace all that our journey has to hold that we become angry or bitter."
So when I knew the next needle sting would be coming I took a deep breath and tried to simply absorb the pain. In perspective, I can imagine it would be much harder to do this with a deeper, lengthier and more intense pain than a needle sting. But the point is, numbing out doesn't work anyway, it goes against the grain of experience, the same way denial does. If I say "It doesn't hurt" I'm lying to you but I'm also robbing myself of the fullness of that experience. Pain and suffering are part of the human story.
I wish I could say that the second needle sting that I tried to absorb and embrace didn't hurt as much as the first, but that would be inaccurate. It did hurt, but my attitude, intention and overall emotional experience of that needle stick was different from the first. So I realize my intention and attitude play a large part in how I am able to bear pain.
I'm talking about physical pain here. But I've found the same principles to be true in regarding to emotional or spiritual pain and suffering. Not only that, but I know I do not enter the Valley of the Shadow of Death alone. No temptation, concern, pain, irritation, frustration, threat, illness, nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing can separation me from the love of God. I do not go alone. I do not suffer alone. And I know that despite these trials my soul will receive nourishment from a loving God and because of it I will continue on and become more.
The opening scripture was found in Jeremiah 17: 7-8 "But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to produce fruit."
This idea of the heat and the time of drought was used to illustrate a time of suffering, doubt or trial. Throughout the conference the theme of suffering was reiterated.
A couple weeks ago I had a wonderfully uplifting conversation with a friend of mine, Chaplain Carole. I was telling her about the spiritual retreat and trying to recount what I had learned. I told her about this theme of suffering. Not just suffering in and of itself, but suffering as formation or formation through suffering. God redeems what seems like lost time, or pointless pain. Our suffering is not in vain. Through our pain and suffering we are forced to press in and keep going. We learn more about ourselves, our faith, God and those around us at our point of pain. Our character is shaped and developed in trials and by fire. I don't want my suffering to be meaningless. I want to "become" something through my suffering. Even in times of heat and drought I want to have a fruitful life.
I had a MUGA scan the week before beginning chemotherapy. It is when radioactive tracers are mixed in with a sample of your blood then injected into the arm. The blood sample with tracers head straight for the heart and its then that the scan can capture pictures of the function of the heart. Well, in order to take the blood sample and to inject it requires a couple needle stings. The blood draw was a quick prick and for a moment I found myself wishing I didn't have to feel it.
"Isn't there something they could give to numb a persons arm before doing that?" I thought.
As I lay on the table a bit later to have the blood and tracers injected back into my arm, another thought came to me. "It's just when we numb out and simply decline to embrace all that our journey has to hold that we become angry or bitter."
So when I knew the next needle sting would be coming I took a deep breath and tried to simply absorb the pain. In perspective, I can imagine it would be much harder to do this with a deeper, lengthier and more intense pain than a needle sting. But the point is, numbing out doesn't work anyway, it goes against the grain of experience, the same way denial does. If I say "It doesn't hurt" I'm lying to you but I'm also robbing myself of the fullness of that experience. Pain and suffering are part of the human story.
I wish I could say that the second needle sting that I tried to absorb and embrace didn't hurt as much as the first, but that would be inaccurate. It did hurt, but my attitude, intention and overall emotional experience of that needle stick was different from the first. So I realize my intention and attitude play a large part in how I am able to bear pain.
I'm talking about physical pain here. But I've found the same principles to be true in regarding to emotional or spiritual pain and suffering. Not only that, but I know I do not enter the Valley of the Shadow of Death alone. No temptation, concern, pain, irritation, frustration, threat, illness, nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing can separation me from the love of God. I do not go alone. I do not suffer alone. And I know that despite these trials my soul will receive nourishment from a loving God and because of it I will continue on and become more.
My Boys
Once the decision had been made to begin chemotherapy treatments I knew something would need to be said to our kids. I had cut my hair very short before treatment started, thinking this would make it less traumatic for both myself and my boys when the hair actually did fall out. Bobby, who is 5 years old and our eldest son, was the only one to even notice my hair cut at the time. Teddy and Sam, both 4, didn't seem to notice the change. Of course, William at 18 months old, while in tune with my every movement, didn't seem the least bit thrown off by the pixie hairdo.
I sat all of the boys down one day and told them that I would be taking medicine that would make my hair fall out one day. They asked the usual, "why?"
"Because some medicine just makes your hair fall out," was my simple reply. Then I made it interesting by adding, "So when my hair starts to fall out would you guys like to use the clippers to shave my head?" Everyone cheered their support and excitement for such an idea. And so, the day has arrived.
My hair actually started falling out a couple of days ago but it was getting really annoying as of today. For me, my head gets really itchy when the hair starts it's leaving/dying process. It becomes easy to pull hair straight out. This evening I gathered my guys together in the bathroom and showed them how easily hair could be pulled out of my head. I let each of them try it out if they wanted to. They weren't as eager as I had anticipated. Sam was the most interested in trying to pull my hair out. Bobby and Teddy were a little timid about it.
Next, I bent over a towel and combed out as much of my hair as I could. I reminisced about the evening in 1991 when I did the same thing in the bathroom of my home in Cheboygan, Michigan. My hair had been longer then and it was much easier to get a grip on the hair to get it out. After that process I had ended up looking like a balding middle aged man and got some laughs out of my siblings when I re-enacted Chris Farley's Middle-Aged Man character from Saturday Night Live. Then my dad took a Bic razor and shaving cream to my head to finish the job.
When it came time to use the clippers this evening everyone volunteered to be first. Bobby was the first in line. I guided his little hand while he held the clippers and made the first sweep down the middle of my head. He wanted to try it for himself so I let him have a go. He did a pretty good job of getting a couple rows started. Sam went next. He was very serious as he held the clippers and went slowly about his work. Then there was Teddy. He was afraid he was going to hurt me and once I assured him he couldn't hurt me, he set about shaving away. He even laughed a little. My boys took a couple more turns and then it was Dad's turn. Pete came in and Bobby took my camera to catch a few shots of Dad finishing up Mom's haircut. I took the clippers to my own head in the end, just to get the finer or more blonde pieces of hair that my guys may have missed. All in all it really was a fun family experience and a true bonding time in my estimation.
Afterward Bobby laughed at me and said I look funny without hair, but I know he'll get used to it. William, who was not present during the shaving (by design because that boy is into everything!), didn't bat an eye when I came into my room to give him a kiss once the deed was done. I wondered if it might weird him out at all, but, no.
All in all my fellas have been amazing throughout our cancer journey. We have not used the word "cancer" with them, mostly because that would be too difficult to explain. I haven't even said "I'm sick" or anything like that. I told them about the medicine I'm taking (chemo) and they knew after the 1st treatment that I wasn't feeling well.
They were so sweet. For days after my treatment they would pay special attention to me.
"Are you feeling better, mom?"
"Would soup and salad make you feel better?"
"Do you feel better now?"
"What will make you feel better?"
They would ask these questions almost daily. I would get extra hugs, kisses and pats on the hand, head or back from them. Boys are so sweet on their moms! I could sense their love and care for me and it just touched my heart.
The last 5 days have been good ones and I haven't had the extra special treatment. I'm positive these boys are very in tune to what is happening here and they have journeyed right along with us and have been such amazing supports to this mama.
Teddy and Sam have a banana every morning. They like the bananas with the stickers on them, which they call "sticker banana". As you know not every banana comes with a sticker on it so sometimes this can cause difficulty for us.
"Here mom," Sam would say, offering me the sticker from his banana, "Because I love you."
Heart melts here.
Both Teddy and Sam have been saving their stickers for me, making sure I know they're thinking of me and how much they love me. I know. I know.
I am so blessed by these 4 little men. Bobby with his extra hugs and availability to help. Teddy with his sense of humor and extra squeezes. Sam his many kisses and concern for me. William and his celebration every time I come home or enter the room. These four boys are love letters from God to me. Message received (and how!)
I sat all of the boys down one day and told them that I would be taking medicine that would make my hair fall out one day. They asked the usual, "why?"
"Because some medicine just makes your hair fall out," was my simple reply. Then I made it interesting by adding, "So when my hair starts to fall out would you guys like to use the clippers to shave my head?" Everyone cheered their support and excitement for such an idea. And so, the day has arrived.
My hair actually started falling out a couple of days ago but it was getting really annoying as of today. For me, my head gets really itchy when the hair starts it's leaving/dying process. It becomes easy to pull hair straight out. This evening I gathered my guys together in the bathroom and showed them how easily hair could be pulled out of my head. I let each of them try it out if they wanted to. They weren't as eager as I had anticipated. Sam was the most interested in trying to pull my hair out. Bobby and Teddy were a little timid about it.
Next, I bent over a towel and combed out as much of my hair as I could. I reminisced about the evening in 1991 when I did the same thing in the bathroom of my home in Cheboygan, Michigan. My hair had been longer then and it was much easier to get a grip on the hair to get it out. After that process I had ended up looking like a balding middle aged man and got some laughs out of my siblings when I re-enacted Chris Farley's Middle-Aged Man character from Saturday Night Live. Then my dad took a Bic razor and shaving cream to my head to finish the job.
When it came time to use the clippers this evening everyone volunteered to be first. Bobby was the first in line. I guided his little hand while he held the clippers and made the first sweep down the middle of my head. He wanted to try it for himself so I let him have a go. He did a pretty good job of getting a couple rows started. Sam went next. He was very serious as he held the clippers and went slowly about his work. Then there was Teddy. He was afraid he was going to hurt me and once I assured him he couldn't hurt me, he set about shaving away. He even laughed a little. My boys took a couple more turns and then it was Dad's turn. Pete came in and Bobby took my camera to catch a few shots of Dad finishing up Mom's haircut. I took the clippers to my own head in the end, just to get the finer or more blonde pieces of hair that my guys may have missed. All in all it really was a fun family experience and a true bonding time in my estimation.
Afterward Bobby laughed at me and said I look funny without hair, but I know he'll get used to it. William, who was not present during the shaving (by design because that boy is into everything!), didn't bat an eye when I came into my room to give him a kiss once the deed was done. I wondered if it might weird him out at all, but, no.
All in all my fellas have been amazing throughout our cancer journey. We have not used the word "cancer" with them, mostly because that would be too difficult to explain. I haven't even said "I'm sick" or anything like that. I told them about the medicine I'm taking (chemo) and they knew after the 1st treatment that I wasn't feeling well.
They were so sweet. For days after my treatment they would pay special attention to me.
"Are you feeling better, mom?"
"Would soup and salad make you feel better?"
"Do you feel better now?"
"What will make you feel better?"
They would ask these questions almost daily. I would get extra hugs, kisses and pats on the hand, head or back from them. Boys are so sweet on their moms! I could sense their love and care for me and it just touched my heart.
The last 5 days have been good ones and I haven't had the extra special treatment. I'm positive these boys are very in tune to what is happening here and they have journeyed right along with us and have been such amazing supports to this mama.
Teddy and Sam have a banana every morning. They like the bananas with the stickers on them, which they call "sticker banana". As you know not every banana comes with a sticker on it so sometimes this can cause difficulty for us.
"Here mom," Sam would say, offering me the sticker from his banana, "Because I love you."
Heart melts here.
Both Teddy and Sam have been saving their stickers for me, making sure I know they're thinking of me and how much they love me. I know. I know.
I am so blessed by these 4 little men. Bobby with his extra hugs and availability to help. Teddy with his sense of humor and extra squeezes. Sam his many kisses and concern for me. William and his celebration every time I come home or enter the room. These four boys are love letters from God to me. Message received (and how!)
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Suffering Well
I'm
listening to Soul Surfer on audiobook right now. It's the story of
Bethany Hamilton, a young surfer girl in Hawaii who survived a shark attack but
lost her left arm as a result. She shares the trauma and trials of the
attack and rehabilitation but also her determination to continue surfing and
competing. In the very first chapter of her book Bethany said something I
found to be quite profound. Hearing it was very timely for me after a day
of emotional and spiritual struggle.
"I
don't pretend to have the answers to why bad things happen to good people.
But I know that God knows all those answers and sometimes He lets you
know in this life and sometimes He asks you to wait so you can have a face to
face talk about it." -Bethany Hamilton
My heart
was heavy Monday. There are so many people that I love who are going
through such difficult things right now: bearing up under the weight of
depression, walking the weary road of caring for a sick child, learning to live
solo when a spouse leaves, facing the facts of a medical diagnosis, the
untimely death of a loved one, dealing with the confusion and burden of
infertility, striving to cope with chronic pain, the sadness of unfulfilled
dreams and the list goes on. I was truly questioning why such hard times
would come to such good people. I'm thankful for the conversation I had
with my coworker, Carol, that day. She reminded me how limited our view
is and how our confusion and frustration should lead us to rely on
God more because He sees the big picture. I realize how limited my
understanding is and do know that I see but a tiny puzzle piece of the big
picture of life, time and space. I needed to be reminded of this and to
return my focus on God where I can depend on Him for guidance and sometimes
answers.
While
waiting in line at the grocery store later that day I picked up a devotional that was on clearance and randomly opened the book. "Patient
Perspective" was the name of the reading. I thoughtlessly read the
thing then put it back on the shelf. Walking to my car and for hours
afterward I could not get that 1-minute-read out of my head. It
said, in part:
"If
you're impatient for a situation to change, pray for perspective, do what you
can, and then trust God for resolution in His time and in His way."
-Everyday Prayers and Praises
This
struck me and stuck with me to the point that had to go back later and buy the
book. Even now as I re-read this portion it resonates within my very
soul. I am reminded: I am not in control. In fact, I suffer more when I struggle
for control, when I manipulate the words of my prayer in hopes
of eliciting a certain response, or try to walk/talk/be just right so that
good will come about. As if it even works that way! When I
realize my tendency toward actions such as these it confuses me. Those
things sound like the acts of a superstitious mind and I don't identify with
that. Why then do I do it? I believe it goes back to this
struggle for control in the midst of suffering or distress. I may not
feel the need to totally avoid the suffering but I do desire to resolve it, to
"fix" it for those I love.
I began
to focus on the idea of suffering in this life. Everyone suffers.
Some people may seem to "get off easy" if we compare, but there
really is no use in comparing. In this life we are all given our own road, our own journey. Sometimes we forget to look at the scenery and become
focused on the bumps before us. I wasn't even focusing on my own bumps,
everyone else's bumps were getting me down! I pray and I pray so
hard for some things. Again, manufacturing phrases or words I hope will be the
winning combination to achieve the resolution/healing/deliverance/results
I so desire. But I am confident it does not work that way.
I've
decided that if I must suffer (and we all do/will), I'd prefer not to be
frantic about it, I'd like to learn to suffer well. I've been reading
different articles and blogs in regards to suffering. I found a sweet
little blog post that gives practical advice for dealing with suffering.
I'm providing the link here:
http://natepyle.com/practices-for-suffering-well/#sthash.MLA6VlXu.dpbs
I love what he says about honesty in the midst of suffering and how
freeing and healing it can be to simply acknowledge that we are suffering.
This memory came to my mind as I was wrestling with thoughts on suffering and my determination to suffer well. It provides a fair illustration of how this can be accomplished. To lay back, not giving up on the situation, but with purpose and determination to be at peace in the midst of pain. It can make the suffering somehow, smoother.
It was the only time in my life when I thought I was going to die, literally.
I've lived through car accidents that were scary, have been diagnosed
with cancer-twice, undergone numerous surgeries, traveled to countries not necessarily "safe" for
women, among other things that may have put my life at risk. But the only
time I ever thought, "I'm going to die here," was while swimming in
Hawaii. I was new to the ocean and having an amazing time swimming out on
the waves which were huge that day. It was so much fun rising up with a
wave, being able to see so far and then to be lowered down again. After
some time I became very tired. Swimming and fresh air are a beautiful
pair to make one fatigued. As I started for the shore I was hit from
behind, or above, by a crashing wave. I was right at the breaking point,
the place where the wave, after raising up high, crashes down before rolling
into shore. I've never experienced such power of nature before. It
drove me into the ground with such force I could feel my skin grating against
the sandy ocean floor. Before I could gather my strength to pull up out
of the water another wave came crashing down on me with similar effect. I
became frantic, flailing my arms and legs, struggling to hold my breath so I
didn't inhale anymore salt water. My lungs and eyes were burning from the
stuff. "I can't get out! I'm going to die!" I thought.
Another wave broke on top of me and I was scraping bottom again. I knew I had to composed myself. In the midst of the panic
something within me identified the rhythm of the waves and knew when the next
break would be coming. I relaxed myself and allowed the break to pummel
me into the sand once again and determined to follow the drive of the wave in
attempt to be propelled closer to shore and out of the breaking point. Maybe it was my presence of mind, maybe it
was my determination, maybe it was the end of that set of waves and didn't have
anything to do with me at all, but I found myself out of the proverbial
wave-blender, battered and gasping for air as I crawled onto the shore-alive!
It's similar to what I wrote about trying to "absorb the pain of the needle sting". When I relaxed and invited the needle rather than struggle against it, it made the procedure smoother. I wouldn't say the pain was any less but my emotional/mental anguish was diminished. When I quit fighting the waves and literally rolled with them, the pain of being driven into the ground wasn't lessened but it was a smooth transition out of the break and I was able to move up out of the situation.
These thoughts have stayed with me throughout this week. This idea, this theme is not one that I've resolved within myself. Learning to suffer well, like anything else, is a process and I'm sure I will continue to grow in it and be challenged by it with each new trial. I am determined to pray for proper and patient perspective in the midst of difficulty, to relax under the weight of the waves and roll with the turbulent tide, and to focus on the One who knows the answers to the tough questions.
Sunday, April 5, 2015
All Things New
Revelation 21:5-7
5 He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then He said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”
6 He said to me: “It is finished! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life. 7 Those who overcome will inherit all these things, and I will be their God and they will be my children."
It's Easter Sunday. Resurrection Day. Not only that but it's springtime in the midwest and we are enjoying milder weather, more hours of sunshine in a day and the excitement of buds on trees and in our flower beds. As for me, I was enjoying being able to eat without adverse effects for the first time since my chemo treatment one week and 5 days ago.
As I've been reflecting on all that this season means, not only spring but Easter, remembering the resurrection of Christ, the above Scripture has remained constant in my mind. I love the image of new birth or re-birth as this time of year illustrates so beautifully: birds make nests and lay eggs, little green shoots emerge from an otherwise barren-looking ground, and the brown trees of winter begin to show colors at the tips of their branches once again. It's such a glorious time of the life cycle and a very poignant one for me this year.
Since receiving the results of my genetic testing showing that I am positive for Li-Fraumeni Syndrome, I have felt a dark, heavy cloud hanging over me. While I would share the information with family and friends saying, "It's just providing information, it's not a diagnosis," it felt just the opposite. I realized I was taking the news of this mutated tumor-suppressor gene and shackling myself to cancer for the rest of my life. It was as if I couldn't see a future.
So, today, in light of and remembrance of Christ's work on the cross for salvation, His suffering for healing and finally His return from the grave for life everlasting, I decided to claim the victory for myself! As the Scripture from Revelation 21 says, "those who overcome will inherit the water of life. He is making all things new!" This proclamation and promise seemed to be a ray of light for me in a very dark place. Christ's victory all the more sweet for me in the valley of the shadow of death.
I prayerfully revisited the genetic testing information this afternoon and found it to be less intimidating than I had remembered and I found myself encouraged. Even if nothing of the information had changed whether on paper or in my mind it wouldn't have mattered because He who is on the throne says, "Behold! I am making all things new!" That doesn't mean my genetics will change or that I won't have cancer tomorrow. But I have the assurance of being made new, being given a renewed hope, experiencing the rebirth of determination and perseverance.
Yesterday I would have asked, "How can I do this?" Today the answer is, "He who is on the throne is making all things new!" So, for today, I claim a victory. I accept Christ's work on the cross and the power of His resurrection as part of my inheritance. I will hold to it in dark places. And in times of desperation or despair I will look to the light of a new day.
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