I walked into the National Rehabilitation Hospital carrying a styrofoam cooler full of anti-cancer drugs, they really don't weigh much (thank goodness!). I signed my name down on the notepad of patients to be seen, then picked up my box and sat down in the row of chairs. People were coming and going to physical therapy. Many of the people I see in the "gym" at physical therapy are the unsung heroes of the battle. You look around, and see men of women of all different shapes, sizes, race, age, etc., all learning how to regain use of their physical strength. You see brave men and/or women learning to walk again after tragic accidents or surgeries. You see people learning how to use a new wheelchair, pick up pennies after hand injuries, and improve their hand-eye coordination after brain traumas. I have only a couple more weeks of physical therapy as recuperation from my surgery in November when all the muscles in my left arm were cut (to remove 15 lymph nodes).
There is this one man who I see in there regularly, an older handsome man, maybe in his 50's. He looks well kept. He appears to be a stroke victim as he gets around in a wheelchair and he has severe tremors in his hands. He cannot form coherent sentences, though he had a sweet spirit about him. For some reason, watching this man learning to push a towel back and forth on table from his wheelchair captured my attention. I thought about what his life must have been like, how it must be for him to lose his independence. Maybe once a man who earned for himself, provided for a family, well developed mind, and now it's all different. I looked around and saw that each person in the physical therapy "gym" has a story.
Truth is, life just throws curveballs sometimes. We can't always understand, but we learn to depend on God. Sometimes knowing the "why" just prevents us from having faith. Moreover, I'm learning the "ministry of dependence" myself. It's not always easy to let people serve you, do things for you, wait on you. You want your independence, your personal dignity, to be useful, to have the confidence to go and see and do, to be valued, to be desired.
And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. - 1 Peter 5:10, NIV (emphasis mine)
Our suffering is temporary, Christ is eternal.
I finished up my morning of physical therapy, and dragged my cooler of drugs over to the Cancer Institute across the street to learn how to administer my half-dose injections. Giving an injection of interferon is a massive production. You have to super clean everything....the glass bottles, the syringe, your skin. Then you have to mix and measure the medication, if you do it wrong - you could wind up giving yourself too much or not enough, or contaminating everything. The nurse had to teach me to do the whole process myself since I will be responsible for giving myself interferon injections three times a week for 40 weeks (every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday). And yes, I have to GIVE MYSELF A SHOT!! Ugh! She had to watch me give myself the shot before I left so she could sign a paper saying I'm capable of giving the injections to myself. If I couldn't, then I'm majorly stuck when I have to give myself the shot on Saturdays and the Infusion Center is closed. I mixed the medicine, drew it back in the syringe, made sure the needle was on properly, and pinched a part of my stomach........I couldn't do it. I just couldn't do it!!! I half-tried, because it feels completely counter intuitive to stab yourself in the stomach with a sharp needle, and bled a little. So we had to get a new needle, then on the other side of my stomach the same thing happened. I was now on needle number three and having to stab my right thigh this time. I paused and asked the nurse, "Have you ever had any patient that you've taught this procedure to, go through three needles?" (at this point I kept apologizing, and tears welled up in my eyes because I was getting so nervous that I wouldn't be able to do it AT ALL) The nurse replied, "No ma'am, you're the only one." Oh. Great. I'm the patient who has had the worst time trying to stab myself with a needle out of all the patients that have come and gone in the Cancer Institute. No one likes to fail at things, and I can be competitive, but this was a task I was failing at big time! I'd make a terrible heroin addict, absolutely terrible.
So per usual, the awful side effects resumed - aches, fever, chills, pain, headaches, nausea, skin burn, etc. It's like setting a bomb off inside your body, a Hiroshima type of bomb that kills cancer. Your body isn't usually a fan, and it will let you know. The fatigue is expected to remain level, and my doctor doesn't think I will be capable of exercising while I'm on interferon (yes, for 40 weeks). I hope I can prove him wrong, but I can tell you the awful fatigue is absolutely debilitating. Simple tasks become a consumer of all of your energy. Everything seems to wear you out, and the times when I'd normally say "mind over matter" and just buckle down and push through physically tough tasks.....well, you just can't do that, the strength is simply just not there. I'd been an athlete for a good chunk of my life, reaching heights of world class competition, I know how to negotiate with my body and push myself even when I don't think I can. But when it comes to pushing through on these drugs, it is incredibly frustrating for the strength to just not be there. And pushing on means I'm not letting my body rest. I read the verse that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me (Philippians 4:13), and I know it's true. However, in this season, it is clear God is asking me to rest - and rest in Him. No matter how much I wish it wasn't true, He has humbled me to only go to Him in my dependence. It is there, I learn this reality of this:
But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. - 2 Corinthians 12:9, NIV
I'm learning, my friends/family are learning, we're all learning - all the time. And more importantly, I'm learning how to weather this storm. Thankfully God is working through so many around me, and He speaks to me greatly through His word. Today, though I feel weak, and I want to get back to my job (I miss my job!), I'm thankful. My oncologist has said to take another week of rest, and I'm hopeful to get back to work on Monday February 25, so please pray that I can endure and do well. My employer has been incredibly understanding, and it has been such a huge blessing. God has been so kind, and I'm praying for His grace one little step at a time. Only 118 more injections to go until there are NO more....
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