Plodding Along in Cancerland While Taking Refuge in Faith

Before I attempt to share the latest happenings with you, I must apologize for the lack of proof-reading of my last post.  I know 'chemo brain' is real, continuing to wreak havoc with brain cells even long after treatment is over.  My own opinion of that last writing is one of being somewhat disconnected, switching from topic to topic without always including the necessary information to provide a framework to what I was trying to tell you.  Is it the lack of pictures that somehow altered the flow of messages?  I'm not really sure and must confess, not having gone to blog school in the past two weeks, there won't be visual support this time either.  And that's no April Fool's joke, despite a good friend and former colleague Julie While, sending me a resource to use that would eliminate the need for all the formal protocol of selecting and vetting; getting whatever layers of permission are necessary to post a nice picture to illustrate a theme.  We'll hope there will be a spot for me at blog school in the near future.

At the end of the first three weeks of treatment, my scalp started to react to the assault on my system starting with a gentle sprinkling of loose hair following me everywhere I went.  Text the stylist, get in for a quick trim to avoid having to watch the longer strands settle on every visible space like a St. Bernard has just walked through the room during shedding season.  If you've ever had someone give you a nasty yank on your precious tresses, and the subsequent burning sensation, you'll be able to imagine the feeling that circulates among the follicles.  The most surprising reaction is that when I had chemo in 2013, losing my hair was the trauma of the century.  This time, it's more a shrug of the shoulders with enough confidence to leave the house with my current 'semi bald' head that at least has reasonable proportions and  not some odd cranial shape.  There is a whole underlying psychological impact that I'm not certain I have figured out just yet.  I vividly recall not wanting to blatantly walk around as a poster child for Cancerland including the bald head or hats and caps and streaming scarves.  What I'm not sure of is why I felt so strongly about the 'look'.  Is it fear of disclosing vulnerability and having to be prepared for most conversations to come around to my illness?  Maybe it was a means of living life as I had in the past without a lot of pity, or, heaven forbid, the over abundance of advice of how someone's third cousin's, sister's, father in law's brother, was cured of life threatening cancer through some potion or notion that would defy any rational treatment.  Can't you just hear it in your head?

What I find quite different in this current round of treatment is how much greater agitation there is to the human body as it goes through a weekly regimen of toxic chemicals being injected with only a few days to accept, process, and at least partially clear, some of the poison.  The much needed drugs to deal with the side effects have their own side effects that send your body into further turmoil.  This past week I finally admitted to being tired of feeling tired especially after living so long with more energy than sometimes even I could manage.  Have you ever had the sense of feeling totally and completely weary yet not sleepy?  It's like your body is in direct conflict with your brain, not being physically able to respond to your commands while at the same time not having the ability to shut down in order to recharge.  Is that what is typically referred to as feeling as though you were 'drug through a knot?', or just totally out of sorts?

As I tap away at the keys, my mind keeps drifting to the sandy shores of the small Mexican Island we were to be on right now but will instead enjoy vicariously through Krista and Mike who went ahead without us to enjoy the sun, surf and sand.  Rather than feel self pity though, my rant from last time remains clear in my mind about the challenges we would face had we decided to 'go for it'.  Besides, the oncologist I saw this past week made the simple decision that we could not go due to weekly treatments.  Period.  At the same time I asked if she could fill out the physician statement for the travel insurance claim.  This was Tuesday morning.  When I went for chemo Wednesday there was a note on my file to return the fully completed and signed form to me for submission.  Wow!  Did that make things much easier!  People everywhere through these adventures have been totally kind, caring and compassionate.  No room for complaints on my end.

We've just come through the most important period of the Christian calendar by celebrating the death and resurrection of Jesus at Easter.  It's been an interesting and thought provoking time to pass the days of Lent with the freedom for additional prayer and reflection.  I don't know about you but what I've been noticing of late is how it seems that more and more Christians are speaking publicly about their faith.  We may be realizing that by being overly tolerant and accommodating, that in fact we have lost part of our fundamental identity and values.  There is a program on the National Geographic Channel tomorrow evening at 9 pm (Sunday, April 3) narrated by Morgan Freedom, titled The Story of God.  Even the previews for it peaked my interest, as I realize I have had the opportunity to delve into my faith life more than many.  Another rather random thought came to me in recent weeks when I considered that the two people I have relied on for professional psychological and spiritual support had both been diagnosed with cancer within the last 8 months.  When I consider why I'm feeling 'out at sea' it's because I've gone from two very helpful individuals to none in a short timeframe and not replaced either one to date.

I may have written about the notion of 'when you're at your weakest, you're the closest to God'.  Another way it's referred to in the Bible is 'you are strong in your weakness'.  It got me thinking about this whole challenge the three of us are facing (admittedly among thousands of others) and how we are connected in some way, and all three with strong faith to support us.  Have we, in some way we may never understand, graduated to a new level of life?  Are we going through a time when we are able to accept God in a stronger way knowing we are at such a vulnerable place in our lives?  We are no longer running along trying to accomplish all that we set out to do, but are granted the gift of seeing how life is for so many who are disadvantaged in some way.  I'm not really sure and wonder where this is all leading us but can say that the idea just dropped into my head one day recently without any explanation.  Maybe it was a 'holy tweet'!

As we age, I'm sure we contemplate life more deeply and wonder what it's all about.  Last time I wrote about the impostor syndrome.  This time I have a small example to share that came as a result of dinner conversation.  I know that I have long been absorbed with the effect that a broken or split family has on the personality of an individual.  It came up in conversation as this person mentioned they were turning 60 this year and had thoughts whirling around about her own identity and what forces built and shaped her along the way.  We agreed that aging causes reflection and that it's not only trauma or disfunction that shapes you.  Knowing she and her sister were raised in a military family, I asked if she thought how the mobile lifestyle they lived had influenced her.  The interesting outcome was that she had never thought of that and now someone else (she) also has the opportunity to have her brain going off in many directions to more deeply explore her own being.

This has been a more challenging post to write than many and while I'm not exactly sure why, I will make a greater effort not to have it coincide with the days that I have the onslaught of medications that leave me wondering who I am.  In any case, enjoy the warmth, sun, and rain, of spring and be grateful for all the blessings we enjoy each day.

Take care, God Bless,
Hugs
Liz

dobbsjones@gmail.com
"The gift of prayers wrapped in faith and sent with love are the greatest gifts we can receive."