Despite his own weariness and battle scars of the last seven months, yet again I hear my husband cleaning the kitchen and making dinner accompanied by his singing and humming snitches and snatches of various songs with a bit of whistling woven throughout. I am humbled and most blessed.  (I will not give up my fight against my own weakness.) 

February 14 (happy Valentine's Day):  Phone call from doctor "Time to see specialist for exploratory"
March 7 : Pre-op appointment
March 22: first surgery
March 29: My world shifted; Diagnosis Day
April 18: second surgery
Month of May: countless appointments with oncology radiologist, radiology technicians, oncologists,     
                          phlebotomists, etc.
June 1st: 3rd surgery (port insertion) 
June 11: Weekly chemo for 5 weeks begins
                Weekly blood draws begins
               Daily radiation for five weeks begins (Monday - Friday)
July 23 - August 23rd: Recovery month attempting to prepare for more chemo therapy
August 23: First of four chemo doses
September 13: Second of four chemo doses
October 4: tentative third of four chemo doses
October 28: tentative final chemo dose
Month of November: await body scan on November 25 (tentative)  to determine how efficacious the eight months of treatment has been (or not) 
​
Once again, I am reduced to a single prayer: Lord have mercy.
 
​

True confessions. I have had a low tolerance level for schmaltz. In the past, it has taken very little sentimentality for me to label something as schmaltzy and either dismiss it or even upon occasion have such an aversion to it that I would feel like yelling, " Just shut up!" at the song or movie or feel-good poster touting messages of maudlin, mushy encouragement i.e. Have a nice day! or Hang in there! or Without the rain, there would be no rainbow. 

Yesterday afternoon while organizing a cupboard (therapy) i was listening to a Spotify-created "made for you" playlist (not one I had personally made).  Imagine my confusion when I heard what is perhaps the slushiest song of all time begin playing! Chosen for me? I think not!. But being too pre-occupied to hit the skip button, I let it roll on.  

When you walk through a storm
Hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark.
At the end of a storm
There's a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of a lark.
Walk on through the wind.
Walk on through the rain,
Though your dreams be tossed and blown.
Walk on, walk on
With hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone!
You'll never walk alone.
Walk on, walk on
With hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone!
You'll never walk alone.

What the heck? What was happening? Instead of gagging or rolling my eyes, I started to cry. 

​Cancer does weird things to one.

​

Sometimes it is the intensity of the struggle; other times it is the length of the struggle.
​ Just. Want. To. Feel. Well. Again. 
​Lord have mercy.

How hard it is to even begin to list the many kindnesses and the generosity of so many who are helping me on my way through my "fight against cancer" (so aptly described I now realize.) Each offering of love is precious in its own way: unexpected arrival of flowers from someone's garden, flowers brought to the door by a florist sent by friends from afar, meals provided, cards in the mail, and texts and emails from friends who understand if I am unable to answer promptly (with no expectation that I do so at all.) Visitors, drivers, those who sit with me during chemo and keep me company, all making my way smoother and more than bearable. 

There was one gift this week that brought me up short; I was unprepared for the effect it had on me. A dear friend has been coming in to help with some of the household chores I am unable to keep up on (that list is also very long.) While she was still working I had to leave for an appointment. Upon my return I marveled at how clean my floors were and smiled at my kitchen sink no longer piled high with dirty dishes. But it was when I walked into my bedroom to rest that I was brought to tears. It was not only that I had clean, fresh linens on my bed, it was the beauty of a bed with pillows fluffed, bedspread pulled taut and smoothed, corners arranged, and attention to detail that spoke of care taken, thought and love brought to the basic task of making a bed. It had been done perhaps even prayerfully, and most certainly with a grace-filled heart that found a way to make a mundane task into a labor of love that not only blessed my body as I lay down to nap, but also renewed my heart. Thank you, dear one. And thank you to all who are praying and sharing your gifts and kindness. I am blessed.

 I lost the heart for writing. The last week of radiation combined with chemo kicked my butt and every day I thought, "Just a quick blog post," and every day I said, "Tomorrow."  The nuts and bolts is this: having completed the 3 surgeries and five weeks of radiation and low-dose chemo (don't be deceived by the word low-dose; it packed a punch), I am now "on a break" to give my bone marrow time to recover a bit before starting the BGC, Big Guns Chemo, two weeks from today (August 23). All the techs and docs say," Enjoy your break!" Despite the fact I do feel a bit better physically and I am happy not spending half of every day in treatment, I find this the hardest time of all so far. I wish I could embrace the feeling almost normal. Mostly, knowing it is so very fleeting, it depresses me.  Four rounds of BGC over the next three months looms overhead like a colossal vicious cloud. Kinda takes the sense of relief out of the present. Here endeth the Nuts and Bolts. On to the Poetic (of sorts.)

In Between
By Elizabeth Crispina Johnson
 
The storm has passed; the wind grows still.
Gray drifts away and skies turn bright.
The sunflowers, though beaten down,
Lift their faces and embrace the light.
 
Yet, over the hilltop, black clouds amass,
While as tho’ lilies, the sunflowers quietly abide,
Gaining new faith for storms ahead.
Absorbing strength for whate’r betide.
 
Ah! For grace to be the sunflower.
Lord, have mercy.
​

So today my husband went to our local apothecary and brought home yet more meds pour moi. As he set the bag down on the kitchen counter, all I could think was, "and the list goes on, the list goes on."  And that was that. It was a matter of only a tiny hop, skip, and jump (figurative since a pokey walking pace is all I've got left these days) to an impromptu rendering of my newest musical composition (also about pills for those of you who still hold fond memories of the hit song, "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Pills!")  This one inspired by none other than Sonny and Cher's ,"The Beat Goes On."
 
The list goes on, the list goes on.
Heart still pumps medicament to the brain
La de da de de, la de da de da
 
Meds-free was once my rage, uh huh
History has turned the page, uh huh
The many pills, my current thing, uh huh
Pharmaceutics of thee I sing, uh huh
 
The list goes on, the list goes on
Heart still pumps medicament to the brain
La de da de de, la de da de da
 
The drugstore's my super mart, uh huh
From start to end, and end to start, uh huh
And when I’m done they bring me more, uh huh
‘Til they fill and overflow my drawer.
 
The list goes on, the list goes on
Heart still pumps medicament to the brain
La de da de de, la de da de da
 
Now sittin' in my chair to reminisce
Of past days when it just weren’t like this.
The costs keep going higher all the time
Paying out ‘til I haven’t got a dime.
 
The list goes on, the list goes on.
Heart still pumps medicament to the brain
La de da de de, la de da de da
 
The list goes on(Compazine), the list goes on (Zofran)
And the list goes on (Tylenol) yes, the list goes on (Magnesium)
And the list goes on (Calcium), and the list goes on (Benedryl)
The list goes on (Ibuprofen),  and the list goes on and on and on and...


​Strange things seem to be happening to my brain. I admit it. 

Upon my waking. Upon my sleeping. Through all the day. My strength. My grace. My All.
Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, Have mercy on me. 
Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name. Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.

And beside my bed to keep my mind and heart staid: