Take a moment and think about the most annoying encouragement you’ve received. (You might have to first admit that you’ve been annoyed by something someone who is just trying to encourage you said…but it’s okay to admit that because I’m also not telling you to go tell them that their encouragement annoyed you…you can keep that to yourself) 😉 Think about that statement that irked you and got under your skin…that phrase someone said to you that was intended to build you up but it instead made you roll your eyes.
I have a “few.”
But, my both+and of the day – while some things may be annoying to hear, I’d like to suggest that behind the irritation, there is a truth that is worth considering.
*Post 947
One Single Day. So Many Lessons to Learn. :: 11/6/17 :: Post 70
Well….today was not what I wanted nor had expected. Talk about a tangible experience of literally being where my feet are and not stressing about yesterday or worrying about tomorrow. I had planned to go to physical therapy this morning and then head into work for a “normal” day. (Normal is in quotes because these days, normal is very relative to how I’m feeling). So, I woke up. Nauseous. So sick. So fatigued. So wrecked. I could hardly get ready for my day and had the hardest time imagining how I was going to be worth anything at work. But I pushed through thinking, “It will get better, it has to….” But it didn’t.
We made it to PT. And I’m glad I went. It got me out of the house and it confirmed for me just how awful I felt. So after PT we decided to go to Rose and see what they could do because I just was that bad…. And I’m glad we did.
They were just going to give me IV fluids, but a part of the protocol is to check my vitals, access my port and take blood before they set me up with simple saline. Well, I had lost 10 pounds in a week, my blood levels showed critically low potassium and magnesium levels (which has a direct impact on my heart’s functioning), and the side effects of round two had done a number on my system…so needless to say, my nurses and doctor were very concerned. And I ended up staying at the infusion center for the majority of the day. From 9:30am to 2:30pm… with 4 and a half solid hours of IV fluids, anti-nausea meds and potassium and magnesium to get me out of critical low levels… and with new prescriptions and instructions to get me through the next few days.
Yikes. So much for a “normal” day at the office. Instead I had to take yet another day off and not get to do what I love to do and in its place, sit in a cancer center’s infusion room yet again.
As a friend and I texted tonight, he mentioned that it must be hard to know what is a normal awful and what is a critical awful…. So true. I have no idea which end is up anymore and I have no idea how to gauge just how bad I am. I am so glad we went with our instincts today and decided to just walk in. While they said this is not totally abnormal, it is concerning and will require us to look at rounds 3, 4, 5 and 6 very differently. (Ugh, writing that feels hard…3, 4, 5 and 6. Stupid cancer)
As I have been home now for a while, feeling only minimally better (but able to eat, thank the Lord), I’ve had quite the opportunity to reflect on just what today meant.
Two things –
Being where my feet are. Literally. As I had plans for one thing today and everything had to change…because my health had to supersede all other plans whether I liked it or not. And I had to let go of the feelings of frustration, out-of-control-ness, sadness, worthlessness, anger, desperation for different, wishing for a magic new story…. And that is all really hard to do. So I got a little more practice in it today. Yay.
AND
My Middle and I had a long conversation this afternoon about how she’s doing. She shared some of her heart with me, shed some tears with me, and we talked about my being sick. I asked her how she was feeling about all of this. “I don’t know.” I asked her what she thought about all of this. “I don’t know.” I asked her questions about how school is going in the midst of all of this. “I don’t know.” I asked her if she was able to find words instead of, “I don’t know.” And she said, “Words are hard.”
Yup. Words are hard.
I struggle with them, too. How do I really feel about all this? How do I help my kids find words to describe how they feel about all this…without sounding like a counselor, without invalidating that words are just hard, without missing the point by getting too quickly to the solution and not be able to just sit in the problem… So we sat with “Words are hard” for a while. And then I gently asked (because I could see the wheels turning), “What word is in your head right now?”
“Anger”
Heart-stab.
One, because, me too. Two, because that’s a hard word to hear. Three, because I can’t fix it. Four, because there is complexity to anger that takes a whole lotta process and time to understand. Five, because there is a fear in my heart that her anger will turn to bitterness and darkness. Six, because her faith is 14 years old and at 37 years old, I struggle with anger and bitterness and darkness. Seven, because she is the only one of my three that will open up to me and talk so I wonder what the other two girls are experiencing. Eight, because cancer (another really hard word to hear…speak…think) is a major source of it right now. Nine, because I am out-of-control and while I have skills to help process and understand, there is a finite end to my humanness and an infinite need for trust and faith. Ten, because my kid is angry and it hurts to see my kids hurt.
This is hard. In.Every.Way.
Today was hard. In.Every.Way.
Jesus be our strength. Be our light. Wrap our girls in Your arms and dissolve their anger. Do not let the devil take hold. Send armies of angels…………to do what we simply cannot.
Gratitude Month Day 6 :: 11/6/19 :: Post 782
Two years ago today, I had spent the day in the infusion center with critically low potassium and magnesium. I hadn’t been feeling well from the moment I woke up and we decided to just walk into my cancer center and ask them to check me out. They were glad I did. So were we. Something I wrote about that day stands out – a friend had texted me that day talking about the difficulty I was in of discerning a normal bad from a critical bad…so very true. Cancer has turned me upside down and inside out and even two years later, that same discernment is difficult…is the persistent and constant joint and bone pain RA or a growing cancer that I’m unaware of? Am I dizzy and nauseous and foggy because of something really wrong or is it just my new normal? Do the nosebleeds mean I’m dying or is it just dry winter air?
The fall out from a cancer diagnosis is far more destructive than I was prepared for. I don’t trust my body. I second guess my intuition. My internal gauge is tainted. And my reality is that every step I take (literally) is a reminder of the painful forever-ness of cancer.
But, it’s Gratitude Month Day 6 and as hard as it is to find something to be grateful for, I’m still going to because the practice of gratitude is vital to resilience… So, I’m grateful for my people. For those that have walked this with me in all of its ugliness and all of its pain. Two years ago I finished my post with a prayer that the Lord would protect my kids from cancer turning them bitter and angry. And while it is completely unknown how cancer’s effect will manifest itself over the coming years, I can say right now, two years later, there is an enormous amount of love and grace and joy in this house. Thank you, Jesus, for that gift.