# 9 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- The Second Round of Treatments Done

It's been quite the journey so far.  Today, I finished my second of countless sessions of chemotherapy.  I get a week off, now.  

In my sessions in the infusion room, I have met and talked to several patients, many of whom are worse off than I am.  Their stories sometimes seem almost bizarre in the things that they have had to confront, endure,  and overcome.  

Out there in the world,  these strong, resilient people may not look like much, but they are warriors of the highest order.  They fight their battles in obscure places, often in silence, sometimes alone, with little applause.  

Some are not alone, and their caregivers have selflessly rearranged their own lives in the service of their loved ones.   They are warriors too, and their stories of overcoming in caretaking are often amazing.  

And yet, most still can smile and even laugh.  Most have a grip on the day and live it out this day with as much joy as they can manage.  And most of those I have talked to have an abiding faith, made stronger by all they have had to endure.  Their pain has forged their faith into their greatest weapon against despair.

# 8 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- "Face in the Mud Humility"

 Looking back after writing down all that has happened to me and the challenges I was and am still faced with, it leaves me with a sense of awe.  Awe not in what I did or endured, but how it all worked out.  Truly, Romans 8:28 applies here:

"All things work together for good for those who love the Lord and are called according to His purpose."

No way I could have experienced the level of dependency on God if I had not been placed "between the sword and the stone," so to speak.  When you can contemplate your own death and be accepting of it, I  think you reach a new level of being.  Things are different.  You have reached that level of "face in the mud humility. "  

When I have fervently prayed for others out in the woods at my prayer spot, I  would often put my face into the leaves and pray.  My view is that the pride of a person is in his face.  When the face is humbled, perhaps pride can be put aside in humility to get closer to God in prayer.  

The goal now is not to bend into the world and all the problems, not worried about when facing life and death, but always recall and renew that level of humility by remembering all God brought me to and through and all He still has in store. 

# 7 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- I Am Grateful

 Second round of Chemo this week and the next.   Actually, I feel really good.  Perhaps, the year has been plagued by this cancer all along, leading to easy injuries and nights of sleep lost?  Can't say.  

I am walking daily for an hour or more nonstop, and I do some light weight exercises, plus I walk up and down stairs to get the cardio up. Everything is working, and in fact, I am gaining weight.  Gaining weight on chemo?  

But, most importantly, I still feel close to God in all this.  A little success and feeling much better hasn't made me forget how I got here, and all He has brought me through.  My goal is to remain grateful to God, no matter what happens next 

So many people are praying for me and I want to remain grateful for that.  Sometimes, I can almost feel their prayers.  I would have never experienced that if hard times had not come upon me this year.  This morning I am grateful.  I am blessed.  Praise God.

#6 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- A Walk in the Swamp at Night

 The end of a week off from chemotherapy, and I feel surprisingly good.  But the unknown is out there.  I have a little less than a year of this left.  It seems like a long time to live on the edge of your seat, but it's my only choice.  

I walk for about an hour nonstop most mornings.  Reports are that exercise gives me the best chance for treatment success and side effect minimization.  I would have exercised anyway.   

But it seems like a hold your breath, wait and see game; a long trudge through the night in the swamp, slow going, sometimes hard to make forward progress.  Sometimes not caring much at all about how it all goes.  It is a plethora of emotions you sometimes can't see coming.  

But, hear the sound of the sound of the water moving as I step forward.  And there is the sucking of the mud when I pull my loss from a place where the poor footing stopped me.  This is so much like endurance sports.  Maybe that's how God prepared me for this?

#5 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer

 The PET scan was good, and that made me glad.  No surprises.  Every turn of this journey has led to something worse.  Yesterday, broke that pattern.  Thanks God.

I have a week off from treatments and injections.  Maybe my arms will heal up from all the sticks over the past month and a half?  Overall, I don't feel that bad.  But the question that keeps me in the recliner when I should be moving is "Where do I go from here?"  What do I do with the rest of this life with its limitations?   I want to serve God somehow, but have not been led to any particular things.   

I am in "wait and see" mode, and it feels unnatural.    The treatment is to last a year so it's not like I have a lot of latitude, but I do know there is something I could be doing besides resting up. But all I get from God is "wait."  So I will.

#4 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer

 Adjusting from the role of work hard, play hard, to the more sedate role of cancer patient has been a chore. But I am doing it.  I put God in charge of all this, and my role is just to adjust to His will for my life; Obey.  

I do walk most mornings, over an hour sometimes, but I take time to stop and pray every 20 minutes or so, at a spot where I  have prayed for so many other people over the years.  The October mornings are perfect for this out in the quiet woods.  

I pray more, I rest more.  I have more faith.  I am closer to God, and I can face death without remorse if it comes.  I am ready.  I have been ready to go home.   My only regret would be the heartache I would leave my family.  But I have given them to God as well and He will be with them if death comes.  I am blessed. Amen.

#3 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer

 A week done of therapy.  So far so good. No noticeable side effects.  It is a change in direction in my miles of the journey.  This weekend is to be the half ironman I came close to entering and, in fact, booked reservations for.  Knowing what I know now, or perhaps because of what I have experienced, it doesn't seem as  interesting anymore. I can't quite describe the non-caring for something I was so passionate about. 

A month of downtime and seeing all the other sick and ill people, the many struggles, many worse than mine, the loved ones giving chunks of their lives in care for loved ones.  There are some amazing, suffering, giving, loving people, doing heroic things with no crowd, no "you're an ironman," just doing the right thing quietly without applause.  

There are so many stories out there, in the clinics and hopitals, many more, more terrible, more varied, than you will hear from participants on the race course.  This is not taking anything away for the effort and sacrifice of ironman participants at all, but there is that other ironman world of the sick and infirm and dedicated and committed people taking care of them.   Thank you God for these fine souls.