What’s The Point?

“What’s the point?”

Someone asked me this today. They wanted to know why, with all the time I have to myself during the day, I don’t do anything productive. Why don’t I tweet anything? Why don’t I practice my piano? Why, why, why? Oh and then “what’s the point?”

Are they trying to say what’s the point of me still living then? Is my life worth nothing unless I’m doing something productive?

They are not sitting in my shoes. They don’t have to deal with the sickness, pain, treatments, procedures, and setbacks that a person with cancer has to. I’ve been honest about my lack of direction, my bouts with depression, struggles with faith, and how I’m without a roadmap when it comes to what I’m supposed to do now. I’ve also been very vocal about the issues I’m having which keep me mostly chair-bound. But I guess I’m still supposed to accomplish so much while stuck in this chair during the day.

I was given a list of all these things that I could be doing instead of nothing. Sorry to the person that thought this conversation with me was going to be productive or even motivating because they obviously don’t understand how depression works, how setbacks discourage, and how I still don’t know what my purpose is to be now that I have cancer. I have good days and I have bad days. I don’t know which it’s going to be when I wake up everyday. I’m just thankful to be alive.

I will say this though. My mom was going through her cancer battle while I worked at the American Cancer Society. I couldn’t understand why she didn’t advocate for a cure, why she wasn’t talking about it to others like some of the survivors I knew in fundraising. In fact, her best friend didn’t even know she had it. I thought for sure she would be a fighter as far as finding a cure but she wasn’t. She didn’t do much of anything day in and day out. Pretty much do her treatments, surf the internet, spend time with family, and sleep. Now that I’m the one with cancer, I’m really not that far off in doing what she was doing.

What is so wrong with resting and taking care of myself during the day? Why do I have to have some grand masterpiece that shows I’ve been productive for the day? And what constitutes being productive? Who gets to decide what I, a cancer patient undergoing treatment, should do with my time all day? Cause really, what’s the point? I could spend my last 6 months watching tv or putting all my energy into taking a class, but one of these things will relax me while the other will likely cause unnecessary stress.

I think it’s really simple. When God calls on me to do something more, than I’ll do more but for now, let me have my rest.

 

Advertisements

The Need For Rest Will Just Have To Do For Now

The last time I was sick on Christmas was five years ago… before my life was drastically altered after meeting my husband and embracing the Christian faith wholeheartedly for the first time. I had traveled to Colorado via Greyhound to spend the holiday with my best friend and her kids. Taking the bus was a great way to get out of the city to venture the beaten path with my camera after the end of a six-year relationship I never should have been in, and the end of a disillusionment for an affair that would never be more than a roll in the hay. 

Yeah, I’d had better days and the opportunity to run away from home was enchanting. The road to freedom was a little more traveled than I wanted it to be though; it took three days to get to Colorado and five to get home. I remember getting stuck in the Dallas bus station for a day and a half while a snowstorm wrecked havoc just north of us. I was still trying to get to Colorado, and I was completely at the mercy of a storm I couldn’t even see. It wasn’t snowing in Dallas where I was, but all around me it was coming down so heavy that travel all the way up to Denver was at a halt. I just wanted to get where I was going, and I wanted answers. There was no way out and nowhere to feel safe. 

I think it took a good 12 hours before they finally brought a bus out for us weary-eyed travelers to sleep on. I was so thankful… all I wanted was answers and rest, but I would settle at the moment for just some rest. It’s how I’m feeling again after all these years.

Cancer has a way of eating away at your soul… if you’ll let it. Sometimes I do, I won’t lie. Sometimes, I give in and let the cancer take a bite or two out of me. Sometimes it takes a few days, weeks, or months for me to wake up out of the chokehold-slumber that cancer is and stumble again onto my faith. On Christmas Day, it was just a reminder staring back at me that reads “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Yesterday, it was a complete meltdown on the living room sofa where I begged God to help me over and over again. Today, it might look like something completely different but I’m not giving up. 

The answers may come another day but for today, I’m going to take the rest that comes with knowing Him. 

Tiptoe


Even when you’re going through it,

You’re not going through it;

You’re tiptoeing around,

Careful not to step on

Your own thoughts, your own feelings. 

You don’t really want to talk about it;

You don’t really want to write about it.

You only want to think about, write about 

Nothing at all.

The nothingness that stares you in the face,

The nothingness that will never be nothing again,

The life that will never be the same.

Putting The Thorn Before The Flower

As I sit here, I lay in a hospital bed. Alone. It’s 9pm on a Tuesday night, and my husband has to wake up early to get the kids to school. 

There are a myriad of emotions I’m experiencing right now. Lonely. Helpless. Emotionally drained and overwhelmed at the same time. I’m still in shock about how I have gotten to this point. If you read my last post, you will remember I was fearless then. That was before I met with the pulmonologist. 

I haven’t gotten any better. This is the stress I have been dealing with, the pain that has caused me to cry so much in the last week. But in the end, the consistent inability to breathe is what landed me in the emergency room. For months I’ve been wondering at what point someone would hospitalize me. After not being able to catch my breath for an hour and a half on Sunday, I made the decision myself. I asked my mother in law to drop me off at the hospital instead of church. I was admitted almost immediately. 

They have done extensive blood work and a bronchoscopy. I’m hoping to have the results tomorrow but so far I know there are no tumors and no blockages. That’s a good sign. I’ve been on fluids and two IV antibiotics since I got here, and everyone is taking my case very seriously. There is comfort in that. 

I’m a little less fearful and a lot more hopeful now thankfully. My husband came back from Miami yesterday where he had been helping with the hurricane relief. He surprised me outside my room when I got out of recovery from the bronchoscopy. I was so happy to see him, I cried out. Well, my hip was still hurting because the morphine hadn’t kicked in yet so that could have been part of it. 

He stayed with me quite awhile last night which I was thankful for, and then he switched off with my mother in law who stayed with me all night. I cannot explain the gratitude and comfort that comes from knowing someone is right next to you during an unexpected hospital stay, when you feel at your absolute worst. She had to go drive back home to SC today but my last words to her as she left this morning were “I’ll never forget.”

So where does this leave me now? Back to where I was when all of this started. When I first got sick, during every coughing spell, at each moment I threw up, at every moment I cried out in pain… there was only one left standing. Jesus. 

This is not to say that He is my last resort. When my family is here, of course I will make time to spend with my family. But I need my time with Him too. I was reading the Bible earlier and a food attendant came in whose name actually comes from the Bible. Elon. It means strong, like an oak tree. 

I had a great conversation with the the attendant, and I have a gift for her when I see her again tomorrow. I’m having encounters here at the hospital I would otherwise never have. Maybe this is about more than just me being sick. I believe God can use me anywhere, and I believe that He will. 

But right now… I’m going to turn my attention back to Him. I’m going to thank Him for the umpteenth time since I’ve been here, and delight in the grace He has bestowed upon me. 

I have learned to live with the thorn, and although it hurts, it has brought me closer to God than any flower ever could. Think about that for a minute. Would you trade in your flower for a thorn to get closer to God? 

Most will never do so willingly but He gives us all opportunities to know Him more intimately. I never asked to be so sick but I am grateful for the truths I could only know by allowing Him to walk with me on this journey. Only by succumbing to weakness could God’s strength and glory rise up in me when I had absolutely nothing left. 

I know I’m not really alone. I know He’s with me. He’s been with me all along. 

“Because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, for this reason, to keep me from exalting myself, there was given me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me– to keep me from exalting myself! Concerning this I implored the Lord three times that it might leave me. And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.” 2 Corinthians 7-9 

Fearless In The Midst of The Storm

Rembrandt_Christ_in_the_Storm_on_the_Lake_of_Galilee (1)

It seems like this year has been storm after another for me, and the one thing that always remains is pain. And sickness. And more pain. And more sickness. It’s enough to tire a person out.

I have talked about my struggles with chronic pain this year but then I fell silent. I’ve been quiet for quite some time for a very good reason. I was diagnosed with pneumonia in June, and still getting over it.

Coughing for three straight months will challenge anyone. Coughing to the point of vomiting and breathlessness is another thing entirely. I really thought I had whooping cough. I just couldn’t see how I could still have pneumonia after antibiotics and 2 rounds of prednisone.

I should say that I was quite surprised to learn I was so sick in the first place. I was weaning off all of my medications, something I knew God would call me to do at some point but six months into my chronic headache seemed to soon. Still, I went with it and put all of my trust in Him to get me through the pain. As my headache got worse and I started coughing non-stop, I knew something was terribly wrong. This couldn’t possibly be from weaning off of Lyrica and everything else that never helped anyway.

A month later when I was still very sick, I was told that I had bronchitis as well. Two weeks later as I struggled to take a painful deep breath, I was told I also had pleurisy. My painful ribs that had me struggling to walk were nothing more than the result of that and coughing so much. And as my breathing went from bad to worse, I had another chest x-ray done stat, only to find out the pneumonia was persistent after two months. Time for another round of antibiotics and a nebulizer for breathing treatments at home.

I finally have my appointment with a pulmonologist tomorrow, and I cannot wait. I doubt he will have special powers to make me better, but I do hope to find a regimen that will finally help me breathe easier because I’m not convinced the breathing treatments have helped me. Sometimes I think they actually make things worse.

I do the best I can dealing with all of this. I have a family to take care of, a job to hold down, and I have no more sick time left. All of my vacation time has been used up because of all of these things going on. Still, in the midst of everything that I have been through in the last 3 months, I have never felt closer to God. Never felt like He was there for me more than He is right now. It’s hard to explain but I’ve had to learn how to come to Him differently. I haven’t been able to sing in three months. I haven’t been able to work on music. There are days when I am so sick that all I can manage to do is cry out His name. He answers me every time.

Lately, in addition to helping me through this sickness, He is also giving me strength as I learn new ways to do simple things like breathing, talking, dressing myself, getting the dogs in and out of their cages, and doing a load of laundry. Did I mention that I can’t bend over? Yeah, haven’t been able to for at least a month and a half… basically after the pleurisy stopped being so bad, everything else started hurting. Coughing for so long is really bad for your back and hips so these days I use a crutch for walking and for bracing myself when trying to stand up. It has not been a fun ride but at the same time, my faith has grown stronger. I’ve surprised myself with a resilience that could only come from God as I continue to endure more and more pain. I was ready to call 911 the other night because I couldn’t get out of my bed after several hours, but instead I wound up talking to a friend of mine about God’s goodness. I went from crisis mode to a great level of peace so fast I didn’t even see it coming. Just talking about Jesus and sharing my experiences about how He has gotten me through tough times literally got me through the most excruciating pain I have endured in a very long time. Only Jesus can bring that kind of peace in the midst of pain that wasn’t going away any time soon.

Thankfully, I made it through the night and got a shot of toradol that helped some the next day. It’s amazing how thankful you are for level 8 pain after being at a 10 for so long. I’m  sure I will be just as thankful when I’m able to breathe normally again too. But regardless of how long that takes to improve, I know that God’s got His hand on my life, on my struggles, and on my perseverance to withstand these challenges. He is the difference between enduring pain and having peace in the midst of pain.

On another note, my family and I stayed home for Hurricane Irma, unlike Matthew when we evacuated to Alabama. Though we had damage like many families, what astounded me the most was my attitude change between the two storms. With Hurricane Matthew, I brought the storm with me in the form of anxiety, frustration, and emotional outbursts that wreaked havoc on my family. With Irma, I had a peace going into the storm that I’ve never had before. It didn’t make any sense, even while huddled in the bathroom with my family at 4 in the morning for a tornado in the area all the while knowing that a tornado warning is what sparked me to start having panic attacks years ago just from sheer fear. Instead of being swept up in the chaos of the storm this time, I remained rooted in the knowledge that it didn’t matter what happened; we were going to be okay. I have never felt such freedom and peace in my life, and I know it has to do with how much He has challenged me this year… to be fearless in the midst of the storm.

He’s challenging me and my family with new circumstances now. Nothing that I can discuss right now but an opportunity for the devil to try and stretch our faith even further. I hope he’s starting to figure out that we don’t give up that easily, that God is on our side, and that He WILL continue to fight for us. How sweet it is!

Lord Jesus, you are my rock and my salvation. You are the very breath that runs through my body and a beacon of hope on a cloudy day. I love you with all of my heart, and thank you for all that you continue to do for me, for all the ways you have shown up in my life, and for all that is yet to come. I pray that my story and my struggles can be used to show your love for your people, and to bring hope to the hopeless. May you be glorified every step of the way. In Jesus name, Amen.

 

Feeling Tired and Worn

tired-worn-out

I’m tired. Like really tired, and not just because I don’t sleep well.

I’m tired of being poked and prodded. I’m tired of seeing doctors that can’t help me. Doctors that tell me they don’t know what’s wrong with me, or that there is nothing wrong with me at all.

I’m tired of pills, medicine, and treatments. Nothing works. I’ve tried so many different things… even physical therapy but it hasn’t changed a thing.

I’m tired of not feeling well, with this symptom or that. Every day it’s something else. My head still hurts every day, and sometimes incredibly bad. I sat on my bedside a few days ago at 3 o’clock in the morning contemplating going to the emergency room; they weren’t much help the last time I was there so I suffered through it like I always do.

I’m tired of suffering. Not knowing when it’s going to end. Will I ever be okay again? Will there ever be another season in my life when I am not feeling pain compounded over pain, let alone just one single breath with no pain at all?

I’m tired of doctors that keep throwing around words like anxiety and depression. How would they feel if they woke up sick one day, believing it would pass, but it doesn’t. And every day they keep waiting and hoping that the next doctor will have the answer or a solution to help them feel even an ounce like their old self? Grieving is not the same as depression, and being anxious just seems to be part of this whole ordeal with chronic pain.

This is a side of me that few people get to see. I’m hurting just like everyone else in this world. I don’t know what my future looks like. I have all of these dreams, but I don’t know which ones are God’s will. And I don’t know if I will ever be well again. That’s the most daunting question of all, and all the faith in my heart doesn’t seem to be enough to keep that question far from my mind. It’s always there, like a child repeating themselves over and over again until they get what they want.

Still, I wait and trust, giving everything I have to God because I have nothing left. I find myself draped over His promises, spent from exhaustion. Only He has the strength. Only He can carry me through the most trying times of my life. There is no use trying to do this on my own, no use trying to carry my own battered body down unfamiliar streets to search for a cure on my own. Where has that gotten me? What have I gained from all of this? Nothing I tell you, nothing.

I don’t know where God will take me from here but I do know one thing. I will not be alone. Through all of the pain, uncertainty, and upset, He has been there with me. He has carried me at every moment I couldn’t do this anymore. He has lifted me at every moment my body and faith have given out on me, despite my best attempts to keep everything together. And He will continue to be with me, only this time I will let Him do most of the walking and let His strength carry me.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

I Miss The Old Me


I’m laying down because I need rest

But the dogs are barking

The kids are screaming

My stomach is hurting

My body is jerking

My head is hurting

My conscience is guilty

And my heart is heavy. 

I miss the old me

That played with the dogs

That did things with the kids

That worked out my body

That always used my head

That had a clean conscience

And a heart full with joy.  

Lord, be with me. 

It’s OK To Be Down, It’s OK To Be Unsure

Crying-Woman

Today is a down day for me. Maybe it’s because of all the crying I did yesterday. First at the physical therapy office… let’s just say he was a complete jerk in regards to my diagnosis and I will not be going back. The second time was when I broke down at my doctor’s office telling her everything that I’ve been through in the last two months. Okay, mostly every thing. I didn’t tell her about the cognitive issues. I didn’t tell her about the stress this has caused me. She was patient and understanding while she listened. After dealing with the physical therapist, it was encouraging to have someone be compassionate about what I’m going through.

The last time I cried was while listening to my husband’s sermon last night . He had written it out the night before when I went to bed early from exhaustion, and then recorded it last night in another room where I couldn’t hear him. I just couldn’t hold back the tears as he talked about how he has prayed for me while I sleep, how he has asked God why me? I have wondered how all of this has been affecting him, but he’s not one to talk about how he’s feeling. He said in his message that he was trying to be strong for me. That he has, and yet I know that he won’t always be able to be strong. My hope is that we can grieve and grow together as we overcome each hurdle that comes our way.

I listened to his message again this morning, and I keep thinking about the verse “my grace is sufficient for you…” 2 Corinthians 12:9. I’m desperately trying to understand the weight of it. Honestly, it’s a verse I wrestled with even before my headache started. Grace. It’s such a heavy word, and my feeble mind has a hard time comprehending.

Jesus died for me. For ME. I am a sinner, and He thought I was good enough, worthy enough, lovable enough to be pardoned. When it comes to salvation, I can much easier feel the weight of the cross. But when it comes to suffering, I fumble. Maybe because I haven’t suffered long enough. Maybe because I am coming to terms with what all this means for my life. Grace. It’s such a heavy, heavy word when you’re in the middle of suffering because it doesn’t always mean healing. It’s not a “get out of jail free card” in every situation.

I do much better with the second half of that verse… “for my power is made perfect in weakness.” This I see evidence of every day that I am in pain. He gives me the strength to do the things He has asked me to do, the things that are worthy in His eyes. When I call on Him, He is there. He shows up in the middle of struggle, and in the middle of my tears.

Whatever you are going through, know that He is always available and willing to be there for you in your darkest hour. You don’t have to be an expert on the bible or know how to pray. You can talk to God like you would talk to a friend, crying out for help and tell Him all that you have been through. You can tell Him your deepest darkest emotions that you think no one wants to hear or would understand. He wants to be the shoulder you cry on. He loves you that much.

“The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles.” Psalms 34:17

Today may be a down day for me, and that’s okay because God is with me. He knows and feels my pain. Because of Him, I can withstand the lows, go through the emotions I need to feel, all the while maintaining my faith and knowing the love He has for me. I don’t know what my future looks like; I don’t know how all of this is going to turn out and that is scary. But I do know that He is using me during this time. He is teaching me, and allowing my faith to grow from a tiny mustard seed into a mature tree. And my faith combined with His promises tell me that He will deliver me in the end.

A milk weed seed pod open and waiting for the wind to spread seeds.

 

Perseverance Under Trial

The-Power-of-Persistence-Perseverance-and-Tenacity-for-the-Entrepreneur

So I figured out what’s going on with me. Went to see a rheumatologist on Friday, and was told that that I have fibromyalgia. Something I have considered for months when looking at my symptoms, but I can’t say I find comfort in my diagnosis. My head is still hurting, day 95 now. I wonder now if it will ever go away. My body hurts, and it’s something I’m going to have to deal with for a long time. Maybe forever. I kind of don’t know how to deal with any of this. I’m still kind of numb and still kind of in shock. What’s going to happen to me?

This last week produced the most pain I have ever experienced.

Keep in mind this is coming from someone that has passed two kidney stones at the same time. Why you ask? Because the pain medicine actually works with kidney stones, and you’re able to sleep through the pain. Not so with FMS. Nothing I have taken in the last three months has helped with my pain. I can’t remember the last time I slept through the night and woke up feeling refreshed. While my body has calmed down some, I’m still walking with a limp, my hands keep cramping from typing, and there are a host of other symptoms I have to deal with now like cognitive issues. I have to type more now because I keep typing the wrong letters and the wrong words. I try to speak, but I often say the wrong words and the wrong names. I’m having problems thinking and remembering something said to me five minutes ago.

I’m learning that I have to slow down… a lot!

But I also need to listen to what my body is telling me. I tried to clean the bathroom the other day, and the repetitive motion of scrubbing the bathtub and shower walls left me so winded that I found myself laid out on the tub edge trying to breathe. I hadn’t even finished yet! Once I finally forced myself to take a break, it took 25 minutes for me to recover. Another day it was a simple task like putting sheets on a bed that quickly caused me to sit down out of breath. Perseverance is a good thing, but like my youth pastor’s wife said, I need to learn how to persevere in a different manner. There are a couple of ways I’m interpreting that.

The bible says to “be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer (Romans 12:12). Sure, this condition will present challenges for me, but I know that Jesus is with me through the ups and downs.

My faith has an incredible opportunity to persevere…

…not just through my trials but because of them. James 1:12 tells us “blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.”

My work is not done. God still plans on using me, this I know. And I know that He will continue to be with me on this journey no matter what comes my way.