Numbering Days, Week 65-67

Last year I attended Avery's soccer senior night with a chemo pump hidden under my sweatshirt. This year I manipulated the treatment schedule such that I could attend Amanda's night feeling great. My heart was full of gratitude to be able to mark this milestone with her.

The next morning we left at 4:30 AM to get to Manhattan. I did labs and x-rays and then met with my spine doctor. While we were in the exam room waiting for him, I took the telehealth call with my oncologist's office a couple floors down. Even as seasoned as we are, there is still an element of weirdness to much of what happens. We so often just go with the flow but also sometimes you just have to acknowledge the big-time not-normalness of it.

Its a hassle to be in Manhattan...the traffic, the expensive parking garage a block or five away but there is a Starbucks across the street from our building so we try to consider that a perk.

Two treatments in a row I've been better able to keep fluid down. I have started pre-hydrating as if I have a marathon to run and I'm getting a much increased amount of fluid during the infusion. I have to admit, over the years I've been annoyed by how "saline-happy" the nurses are, but so far it has helped greatly and I am hopeful we found the key! 

After 48 hours, Shaun disconnects the chemo pump and I'm able to shower and rest patiently until I'm feeling better. I'm patient until the deadline I made up in my head passes and then discouragement and despair threaten to settle in. That's when I know I have to get to work. 

I remind myself of what it true and good. I recall God's faithfulness. I offer a sacrifice of praise, literally singing and speaking the attributes of God even though I don't feel like it. And, without exception, as my focus changes, so do my feelings, even while my circumstances remain the same.

Praise the name of Jesus, praise the name of Jesus. He's my rock, he's my fortress, he's my deliverer in Him will I trust. Praise the name of Jesus.

That's not a cancer thing, its a life thing. I have been around this fickle block so many times. Everything is fine and then suddenly I just feel off or dull or just wrong. Emotions are important and are meant to be felt but they are also irrational. I've heard the saying, My feelings can ride, but they can't drive. WE are the narrators of our story.

What thoughts of despair or loneliness or fear capture your idle thoughts? What anxious feelings of despair and shame fill your quiet moments? We don't just have to listen to ourselves, we can talk to ourselves...preach to ourselves and allow our thoughts and feelings to be informed and shaped by the gospel.

An update on Aiden: We did his two-ish week follow-up and the doctor was pleased with how the x-rays looked. Importantly, we took a couple pieces off of the sling, making it 10x more comfortable for Aiden. The surgeon also cleared him to start physical therapy. I mentioned we were hoping to use the place just two minutes from our house. Immediately he lit up and said he highly recommends that place and a couple individuals who work there. God's kindness to work all that out for us!

He's had three sessions and does the work at home, too. Its a relief to him to have movement again and a path to healing. The PT place has seen the before and after x-rays and remarked what a great job the doctor did. Its a good feeling that both the surgeon and the PT hold each other in such high regard!

Thank you for loving on our family, for praying so faithfully, for being our community even though we are high maintenance. We're grateful.