#20 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Cancer The End of a One Very Rough Year

 I may have had harder years, but I can't remember when.  There were hard years as a child with severe asthma and days and weeks of struggling to breathe.  I missed almost 30 days of school one semester. 

But this year was pretty rough, too.  I was digging a large hole and fell across it and hurt my back.  Night after night, pain relievers, hot pads, cold pads, and sleeping in the recliner for night after night. It was a misery to get up out of that recliner to go to the bathroom.  And once I just went on and faced the pain, it was hard to get back to sleep.  

I was just about out of the recliner when I took a fall on my gravel bike and landed on my side.  My whole rib cage, sides, and back hurt from this.  So back to the recliner and all that went with it. 

Then, a couple of weeks out of the recliner, I hurt myself lifting an air conditioner, and things really got bad then.  This was some really serious pain. 

I've taken falls all my life. What was surprising was that now I was getting hurt by falls I usually took in stride.  Then the diagnosis.  cracked vertebra and multiple myeloma.  So I end the year, in treatment fatigue fog, hoping and yes praying, the next year will be better.  

But, looking back, I can see "all things work together for good, for those who love the Lord and are called according to His purpose."  The falls and the pain were warnings of something worse than a bruised muscle.  I probably should have gone for an X-ray the first time I took a fall that left damage it shouldn't have. Perhaps God was trying to tell me something.  Perhaps, I wasn't listening?

So this year, I want to keep my ear to the ground more about what God wants to do in my life, and not let pride and ego overcome the good sense God blessed me with 

#19 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Cancer As A Sifting Process

 Cancer and other diseases and serious injuries can be sifters.  That is, when the outcome is in doubt, the sifter shakes out all the lesser important things and people you would have never had the wisdom or courage to sift out yourself. As the song goes, "the things of earth will grow strangely dim---."

With a diagnosis like cancer, the initial well-wishes and supposed concerns are lavishly expressed.  It is like a parade going by.  All the confetti, the bells and whistles, and balloons, but the parade goes on by.   And you find yourself in a crowd seemingly alone.  

The first impulse is self-pity.  That lasts for a moment until you see that there is still a few people beside you, supporting you, no drums, no whistles, no confetti, just solid, feet on the ground, support grounded in love.  And in that moment, you also realize that Jesus has never left you either.  You have all the support you need.  You have all the support you really had to begin with.

Life now consists of good days and some bad days, where fatigue can be overwhelming.   It's a day-to-day struggle to keep spirits up, with all the physical limitations imposed upon me now and the nasty fatigue.  So I thank Jesus for being there, and I thank my faithful for a love I doubt I deserve.

#18 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- the last Christmas

 My first Christmas with cancer.  Of course, I wonder if this is the last Christmas I will experience.  I realize it could be, but recent life has taught me to live with a great deal of uncertainty.   I did my best to enjoy and relish the experience this year. 

Why shouldn't we do that all the time?  Everyone has a terminal disease called life.  No one knows if this was their last Christmas or not.  Sure, my chances are better than some that it will be my last, but that's just the odds. Life often defies the odds.  

So the takeaway is live close to the bone with the life you have.  Love hard the ones close to you and let them know it.  Don't let love go unspoken or unexperienced.  Say it, show it, do it - now. This may be your last Christmas. This may be theirs. 

#17 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- The Wisdom to Surrender

 Another treatment today, and it is the last until next year.   There is so much I would love to do still.  However, I am not sure about what the future holds as far as what I can do now, and even when treatment is finished in September of 2026.  

So I learn to live with an uncertain future, as if there is a certain one.  The old joke comes up.  "Want to make God laugh?  Tell Him  your plans."  This cancer business has certainly taught me that we are not much in control at all.  We chase the illusion of control, a bubble floating in the wind. Life turns on a dime, and the only way to win this game is to surrender.  How many times have I been pushed in a corner I don't have the strength to fight my way out of and just have to give it to God, in humble submission to His way, His will in my life.  I just have to let it go. 

And so as this treatment process continues, may I  have the wisdom to surrender and let God be God in my new life.

#16 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Finding My Way in the Dark

 

As the year draws to a close, I find that by the end of this month, I will have been in treatment three months of the twelve I will have to do. That is a long way to go, but a lot behind me already.  Scary to think of what the long-term effects of the altered diet and constant drug intake will do over the long haul.

What will be left of me by Christmas next year, if I make it that far?  What will be my capabilities next year when this gets through with me?  Is life just a "hold until relieved" affair now, with no real hope for the activity I have loved so much all my life?  Can I keep giving up this, giving up that, for the next nine months without being overly depressed?

Questions, questions, questions, and no real answers.  Can I live without the answers and face life as it comes to me or leaves me?

Facing life in the dark is where God comes in.   It is dark, very dark, in my bedroom when I get up during the night to find my way to the bathroom.   But, I have done this route so many times that all I have to do is touch an object or piece of furniture, and I know where I am and can proceed on to the bathroom.  

So, it is with God. When the darkness of all this uncertainty and many unanswered questions seems to overwhelm me. I just have to reach out to God, touch His familiar hand, and I know where I am.  Whatever happens in the darkness of the next nine months, I can find my way because God is with me. Emanuel-God is with Us...... Merry Christmas

#15 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Old News

 Treatment started on September 29th, and soon it will be 3 months.  Thanksgiving has come and gone, and now Christmas is in the air.  It is not surprising that my cancer and treatment are old news now.  

 What makes cancer so special anyway?  Everyone, it seems, carries a burden or health issue of some kind, and some may be more debilitating than cancer and cancer treatment.   

And, I seem to be having an easier time with it as I am back to doing most, not all, of what I did before all this happened to me.  There have been some things I have had to cut back and some to give up entirely, but overall, life is good.  Others with all sorts of other issues may not be in such a good place.  So why shouldn't I be old news?  Sure, cancer seems to say death, but life does too.   Cancer can seem to say suffering, but there is suffering in life for other causes too. 

I don't mind being old news.  I know people care and are watching to see that I will be OK.  But, my good results so far have taken the urgency off the critical care by others for me.  I am blessed, and I do know that should this all go south all of a sudden, then I will no longer be old news.  And like I told the nurse at the cancer center, "God's got this."  My news is in His hands. 

#14 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Diamonds and Stones

Some days are diamonds and some days are just stones, nothing to write about but just getting through. Thankfully, I don't have many of those.  But the drugs sometimes bring me down, where all I want to do is sleep and just find a place and stare off in space for a long period of time.  Sometimes the drugs put me on an inner quiver, and sleeping isn't sound and I feel jittery and anxious constantly.  

But most days are diamonds.  My workouts have been consistent, and my walking and bike riding have been.  Most of the time, if I can just get moving, I have a better chance of having a diamond day.  

Today, my walk was going really well out in the woods.  The more I walked, the more I came to myself.  There is a place in those woods where I have fashioned a cross of rocks and have a rocking chair there.  It's where I have prayed for people over the years.  God seems to meet me there.  

The words didn't come for persistent prayer today.  It was as if God was saying  "Be still," and experience the quiet peace of His creation.   It was really quiet.  All I could hear was the sounds of the woods. As I rocked and listened,  peace settled in on me like a fog coming in. 

I didn't want to leave and wondered how long I could have stayed there basking in the peace God had revealed to me. Cancer has brought me closer to God. Whatever the outcome at the end of this journey, it is well with my soul.   It's been a diamond day.   Amen