#39 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- It Just Feels Like Time

 

The cancer journey will be indeterminable.   The same things, the same setbacks, the same good days.  I want to move on, but of course, I have cancer, and it will be with me as long as I have this life.  However, I don't have to dwell on it.  

It is essentially a chronic disease to be dealt with daily.  But it is essentially like my having to deal with asthma all my life.  It is to be dealt with daily, but it didn't have to be the controller of my life.  

I am doing as well as could be expected with the treatments and the outcomes.  That is about all I can say.  I am sure people don't know what to ask me about this, except to say "how are you doing"?  

And so, one more "rapids of cancer post" and I am moving on from that in this blog. If a major life changer comes up, yeah, it will go here, but regular "how I am doing" posts, no.   It just feels like time.

#38 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Wishing for a Stronger Faith

 The Sunday before my biggest treatment.  Altogether, I get all four cancer drugs plus blood thinners, a viral preventer, and an asthma medication.   Who could have guessed I could have gone from no meds at all for a few years to this fruit salad of medications?  So far, I am bearing up well under all this.  In fact, I feel really good.  My physical capabilities keep expanding, and mentally, I am in a good place.  There are some down times, but the more I am into this lifestyle, the easier it is to navigate these straits.

There is a flu epidemic in our area, and I have avoided crowds and close places with people.  I am doing the hermit routine.  It isnt't my first choice, but I am adaptable.  This too shall pass. I wish things were different, but they are not.  I can't change that, but I can give it to God.  

The problem is that I give my issues to God and then in a weak moment, take them back. When it gets overwhelming, I give it back to God, and so this goes.  If my faith were stronger, I would imagine I wouldn't be taking back so much that I gave to God.  Holy Spirit, infuse me with a greater faith that I may release my fears and place all my hopes in God. 

#37 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Coming Up For Air

 Things are going well as far as my treatments.  A new medication was added for my asthma, and it was a game-changer. The capacity for physical efforts has been greatly enhanced.  Some small side effects of the other drugs were practically eliminated. 

How long will this lasts? I am not sure.  I hope it lasts indefinitely, but I  have learned from this medical journey I have been on that things can turn on a dime. So, like the bad stuff, I take the good stuff one day at a time.  But for the good stuff, I am grateful, for however long this lasts. I thank God for giving me this chance to come up for air in this journey.  

Monday, I resume treatments, and we'll see how the full load of all this impacts this fragile peace with asthma, cancer, and side effects. I "expect the best, but I am prepared for the worst."  I'll do my best but whatever hand God deals me, I'll play it and be grateful for these good times. 

And perhaps this is a truth I was to learn in all this, and perhaps there are more along the miles of this journey.

#36 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Whatever

 Cancer.  It seems to take the life out of you sometimes.  It is hard to hold the head up in hope with the future so uncertain.  Lots of things get put on the back burner of life now, if they even get put on the burner at all.  Motivation to do things for the future has to be primed like an old pump. It doesn't come easy like it did with life before cancer. You just don't live with that same level of hope. 

Sometimes I find I have spent the day and not done much at all. Cancer seems like living in a doctor's waiting room.  It takes my best effort not to get depressed and abandon hope altogether.   But, I must.  I must look up in faith through all I am going through, mentally and physically, and "run the race that is set before me."   

So, I get up from this chair and go do my indoor bike, like I have some event to train for.  And, I guess I do.  I need to do my best in this fight I am in, looking to God for the strength to go on, and go through whatever tomorrow.

#35 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Nevertheless

 It was a good day for my treatment and, in general, my journey through the rapids of cancer. People were especially nice. And things worked out to change to a GP in the office there.  

I am having trouble with my breathing under stress and am not sure if it is my asthma, the treatment, or something else.  But the visit went great, and I am happy we are doing all we can.  

At the same time, there is a certain amount of resignation in my spirit that I am not sure whether I like it or not.  There is so much I have had to leave behind and so much to accept that it is a fight not to let resignation take over.

It would be easy to just roll over and let yourself drift off to an effortless existence, and no longer fight the waves that keep coming in on me.  Doesn't it sound good and comforting? Just let go and let it be, rest, relax, and die to yourself, and ultimately, in fact. 

This whole ordeal so far has taught me that I am not really in control that much.  But, I have to remember my MRI tube commitment several months ago to give things to God.  So today,  I renew that pledge.  God, take it. You got it.  Win or lose, live or die, nevertheless.

#34 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Angry

 Tomorrow, another treatment, and today, I seem short of breath upon extended movement. I am not sure what that is, but it sort of comes and goes. One thing after another, day by day, it's like a cross-country race or something.  Am I ever going to get there?  

It is a down day, and all the hopes and declarations of purpose and intent are too far to reach for.   The information on this disease and subsequent treatment seems to indicate this is normal.  What's normal about any of this? Normal is going for a long run on mornings like this or a bike ride with my hair on fire.  A life that is an overdose of medications, doctor appointments, complemented with days of heaping helpings of mundane, and, oh yes, be careful not to do too much, now, is that normal? Nausea is one of the side effects of the treatment, and that is what I get from this modality.

The information on the psychological aspects of this journey (to who knows where) also says that anger is part of the process.  Well, if you can't tell already.  I am angry.  So I guess that makes me normal.  Hip, Hip, Hurray!

#33 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Such Are My Miles of the Journey

 And on I go, dealing with the medicines that are supposed to make me better, but first I must get worse. Side effects are not that bad, really nothing life-altering, but they must be dealt with regularly so as not to unleash really bad effects. Constant vigilance.  

Such is life.  Someone once wrote that "the price of freedom is constant vigilance."  So it is true with our health.  Multiple myeloma has no certain cause, but other aspects of our health do. We can control what we can to help our health along.  We won't be perfect, but we can keep pushing in a healthier direction for our lives.

Such is also true for our spiritual health. In this battle, I am in, it is my spiritual health that I seem to rely upon the most.  There are no negative side effects to prayer.  There is no downside in being close to God. There is no shame in surrendering, doing your best, and leaving the outcome to God.  Such are my miles of the journey. 

#32 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- All Will Be Well

 

There come times in this quest for health when depression has a go at you.  It usually starts when a lot of negativity gets into your circle of concern.  You have to watch other people's attitudes more closely with this, and if things get too negative in the interchange, maybe it would be best not to go into it too deeply.  

It is amazing how fragile and vulnerable one can become to negative influences and negative influencers.  On a good day, it is not always easy to keep positive, but on not-so-good days, it is really a chore.  Sometimes on these days, it might be better to be alone or get busy doing something physical. 

So this journey through the rapids of cancer is a lot about learning to cope, finding out what works and what doesn't. 

I find that if I don't verbalize the struggle, I don't get it air and it seems easier to deal with.  But, when the darkness comes, I go to the Light and pray, and try to get as close to God as I can..  

Two things generally happen.  I start out of the hole I fell into, and I feel closer to God, which lifts my spirits.  I just have to remember that win or lose, live or die, God's got this, and in His hands all will be well. 

#31 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- No Backing Down

 Another treatment today and I feel keyed up from the drugs.  It is another week before a lesser number of drugs for the treatment.  Looking at the possible side effects of all the drugs I am taking, it is surprising I am not already dead.  I used to joke that my prognosis is good if I survive the treatment.  It's no joke anymore. 

I can get an estimate of how long I can live with this cancer, but I think an estimate of how long I can live on these cancer drugs, would be more important to know.  What if you could live for a 2 years with no treatment at all, but if you do the treatment, it could kill you in a year and a half.  Where's the bargain here?

No, I've come this far and I am going to dance with the girl I brought to this shindig. Besides, it is what I decided upon, determined to do, and no matter how hard the miles of the journey become, this is my path, live or die.  I gave this over to God with a self-surrender in the tube of an MRI at the hospital, and He still  has it. He still has me  and I won't back down. I will run the race He has set before me.

#30 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Weeks of Weakness

 Feeling pretty good and capable. I am not sure how long this will last, but I revel in the moment.  Today I brought firewood in a wheelbarrow to the porch from down the hill. Pushing a load of firewood up a small hill would have been impossible a couple of months ago.  

Each time  I got to the steps to the porch, I  remembered that these were the same steps I was helped down to get into the ambulance.  This is also the same area where they tried to get me on the gurney and, in all the pain of moving me, put the wheel to the gurney on my foot.   Twice from this spot, I entered a world other than mine own. And I did it here, where now, I am muscling a load of firewood up to the porch. 

So I thank all the competent medical people who took care of me in the weeks of weakness. Thanks to my family who unflinchingly supported me through this long and arduous ordeal.  And truly, thank you, God, for never leaving me in my walk through the valley of the shadow of death. 

#29 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- This Day of Health

 It's hard to slip into the groove of a cancer patient.   My heart goes out to more active pursuits than merely surviving.  Survival is not enough.  Survival without action seems to me to be just another form of sedentariness.   

I guess I am feeling too good to think clearly and sedately enough about the situation I find myself in.  There haven't been any major side effects, and my strength is coming back from the massive hospital and illness layoff.  At this point in time, I feel pretty good.  Maybe when the side effects hit, or I get some more disappointing news of my cancer, I will tone down my optimism and get to a more normal depressive lifestyle.

In fact, I don't go to any of the support groups and read their stories.  It's depressing. Life is all we have, one day then the next,  and I don't want to waste it in fretting that much if I can avoid it. There may be time enough for that later.  

Today, I feel really good.  I am immensely grateful for this day of health God has given me. 

#28 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Looking Back

 Treatment is going well, and I feel so good that I wonder: what is wrong?  It feels like a trap, an ambush to lull me into a lack of carefulness and gratitude, then whamo! The roof caves in.  So, I guess the mantra for the day is to remain vigilant and grateful on a moment-by-moment basis. After all, this is a long and winding road I am on, and bandits can be around the next bends, so to speak. 

When I used to run, I would sometimes look back at how far I  had come and be amazed and grateful that I had come so far.  I do that now with this rough patch I am on.  I am so glad I have written down much of these miles of my journey.  Looking back at all I have been through to get here leaves me with the same wonder and gratitude as the miles of running  did.  

I have been so blessed to have had a life rich in experiences to refer to when life gets restrictive and more uncertain.  And I have been blessed by the presence of God in my life to be beside me now and evermore.

#27 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Thou Art With Me

 

The treatment this week left me antsy and alert.  So alert, in fact, that I had trouble going to sleep the night of treatment.  I didn't sleep much that night.  I wasn't nervous or tense, but life just flowed through my thoughts, and I just couldn't shut them off. 

Consequently, I keep looking for the fatigue crash.  I have never felt this kind of fatigue.  Oh, in training and such, I've been that tired, but the deep bone marrow fatigue seems more than fatigue by itself.  It's a different feeling coming from these drugs, and it can get scary.  So far this week, I have not had one of these episodes.  I notice its absence, but I don't miss it at all. 

Last night I slept really well, and I hope that will abate any downturn. I hope so, as we have a winter storm coming and there may be issues I want to attend to with a clear head. 

At the same time, I have been doing less screen time and reading my Bible more, plus commentaries and such.  Last night I read some of the Psalms and went to bed with such a quiet spirit; it's no wonder I slept so well.  And all this tells me that behind all the protocols and treatments, there is a hope now, and hope forevermore. 

"Yeah, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me."

#26 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Diversity

 

The weekend and I don't feel all that bad. I have talked to prayer warriors in the last few days and feel blessed by the love of God shown out through these fine people.  And so Monday, I go on into another week of therapy.  Amazing, but almost a third of it is almost done.  

When folks ask me to tell the story, it still amazes me that I got through all that.  But I know I didn't come through it alone.  God put the right people in the right places on my behalf.  And they weren't all Christians like me.  Think of this:  A Hindu doctor, who liked a Christian patient well enough to make a phone call to a Muslim oncologist, who saw me within a couple of hours, where I was treated by a Hispanic head nurse. 

We all hit it off really well, and it is going as well as chemotherapy can be expected to go.  I find it encouraging that the emphasis was not on our differences, but on the common goal and purpose of fighting cancer.  It seems to show that as a people, we can work together for the common good. regardless of our differences, to make a better world for us all.

#25 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Endurance Sports and Cancer

 It has been a good week, so far.  No deep-down fatigue episodes, and I am sleeping a little better.  The miles of the journey go on.  What started as miles of the journey to an ironman finish has evolved through the years to a journey through a cancer diagnosis and treatment.   

The tasks and the trials are in principle, the same. It is amazing how the life and consequent training for endurance sports so accurately depict the struggle of life itself.  In my own life with cancer, I see I need the same tools to get through treatment and therapies that I needed to get through bad patches of training for events.  

Aging up has shown me that there is really not much new under the sun, so to speak. There seems to be a certain set of principles in life that are foundational to everything else, and they don't change.  They appear in different settings and situations, but they don't change, even then.  It is like a quote that goes something like "you can't break the law. You can only break yourself against it." 

So today life and treatment are on a gentle downhill where the pedaling is easier, and the breeze feels good on my face. Praise God for this day.  Tomorrow, who knows, I may be praising Him in the storm.

#24 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- Preparing for the Final Race

 This week wasn't one of the best.  It seems like the treatment is slowly wearing me down.  Sleep is never that great, so that could have something to do with it, but I sleep some to catch up during the day.  However, it appears that fatigue is one of the hallmarks of this disease, and I may have to contend with it from now on.   It isn't what I hoped for, but it's the hand dealt.  

And the journey goes on to who knows where and when.  This is the course I set upon, and until it's over for me, I guess I will tolerate and endure, much like in an endurance event.  It would seem I have been training for this event all my life.  Every race I've run has been preparing me for this final race.  Thank you, God, for the great life of preparation  you've given me for entering into your Presence

         

#23 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- A Lot to Give Up

 Treatment went Ok yesterday, and so far no serious side effects.  Yesterday slept most of the afternoon post-treatment.  So far, no serious wired-up feeling from the treatment, as has been the case.  The problem with being wired up is that I talk too much, and add that to my normal talking too much, I think I become a little unbearable.  

Another problem with wired-up is that I try to do too much.  There is just a thin membrane separating restraint from doing too much physical stuff. The wired-up feel just breaks that membrane and turns all the dogs loose to chase the squirrel.  Then I get a fatigue setback, which takes a couple of days from which to recover.  

But sometimes now, after months of limited activity.  its almost worth it.  The going up might be worth the coming down. Perhaps physical deactivation would have happened soon due to aging up soon?   But it's a lot to give up and sometimes I protest because I want it all back

But there is a lack of gratitude I see here.  I forget that at 80, I could do almost what I could do at 40, except run fast.    I forget that physically, I have been seriously blessed by God to have had all those great times.  I forget that I didn't ever start doing triathlons until age 57 and then did 53 of those. And hard work, like splitting my firewood, I just quit that a few months ago.  How easily I forget all I  have been given.

God has given me much, but like Jesus says, "to whom much is given, much is required. And now I think what is required is to "run the race that is set before, looking to God, the author and finisher of my faith."  And be more grateful.

#22 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- The Event of Eternity

 The end of another week.  I am not going to church because the flu has been on the rise lately.  There is enough risk sitting for a couple of hours in the infusion room for my treatment with a bunch of sick people. Tuesday will be my next treatment day.  

I feel ok, not great, but not bad at all.  However, I seem to be losing weight.  We are not sure if it is the drugs or my diet, or a combo of both.  My diet has certainly become protein-centric.  My training hours have increased, so this could be part of the issue.  Funny, but the weight I am at now is the weight I wanted to get to in my long-ago ironman training. 

Sleep was fairly good last night.  I had one of those recurring dreams from long, long ago, about me trying to get to the start of my ironman.  In all the former dreams, I never made it, and I usually found myself lost somewhere in the city, noticing the time and realizing the ironman had started without me.  So it was with last night's dream.  I missed the start.  In that dream and the others before, I didn't get a lot of support or help to get to the starting line.  No one seemed to know what was going on and how important it was to me.  The people were nameless, faceless souls, embroiled in their own here and now, oblivious to me and others.

Sometimes I think that the devil makes me have these dreams to shame me, to disappoint me all over again about myself and the ironman, to skew my perception of others as uncaring.  But I am not going to believe the dream.  There is an ironman start for which I am already registered.  My name is written in the Lamb's Book of Life.  And I won't get lost on the way to the start, because Jesus will be taking me there.  "There will be no more night."  There will be no more pain or disappointment.  I will begin the event of eternity with Jesus.

After all that I lived through lately, I know I was left here for some reason or some task yet to do.  Although I am not sure what that is (perhaps writing this blog).  But sometimes I think that I can't wait for my ironman with Jesus to begin.

#21 Miles of the Journey Through the Rapids of Cancer- He is Here

 

The new year is upon us, and here I go, negotiating the "rapids of cancer" and the cancer treatment.  There is no rah-rah like a new event of challenge starting, just the steady drone of the plodding progress, of a quest left over to try to complete.

This stuff is much like the last leg of a marathon. There is a slow plodding, putting one foot ahead of another plan, to just finish. Making that comparison, I am about at mile six or seven of the 26.2 miles.  

Usually, in a marathon, you have an idea of the course.  You know what to do to optimize your chances of completing the 26.2 miles, and you have trained for the distance. 

There is no way to train for the cancer distance, and the course isn't always clearly marked.  There are surprises and setbacks along the way.  Prepare all you want by trying to eat right, getting enough sleep, and doing some exercise, but still it doesn't always pay off. 

There are good days and not quite as good days.  Some days I am tired and mentally listless from the start.  About the only thing that helps with that is exercise of some sort.  But, it is sooooo hard to get started sometimes, much like when you stop during the last phase of a marathon.  When you try to begin again, the whole body says, "No!!!  Stay here."  Thank goodness I  have had a lot of training in overcoming that voice from below.

I have had a lot of training in listening to the Voice from above.  Honestly, though, the Voice is not just above me but around and through and in me.  Through all the torment of the last years' pains, He always showed up, when I thought I couldn't take that next step and I realized He has been there all along.