I use-ta have words...

"I consider that our present sufferings are not worthy comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us"   Romans 8:18

I love words. Duh. I love the English language - at how expressive it can be with its many nuances and colorful colloquialisms. And I like big words and made up ones, too. But more than that, I have known that God gave me a gift of words and language.

Contrary to popular and comfortable belief, all but one of God's gifts come with strings attached. Big, tough strings that never break. God expects us to use each and eery one of the gifts he has given us -  not just for whatever, but to grow His kingdom. Seems fair. I'm not going to even hint that I am good, or even mediocre, at using any of the gifts He has given me. On good days, I am probably a C-. Don't get me started about the bad days. But I still understand The Lord's expectations and I am blessed when I actually do what He asks.

I have been indescribably blessed by writing and the responses I have received during this journey of cancer and treatment and all the ins and outs of this unique time. But then...my words went away. I am not sure if it is the radiation that is derailing me, or the fact that I have enough contraband coursing through my veins to qualify me as a card-carrying drug mule, but either way....words....gone. It seemed to me sensible that God would be more clear as to the words and really give me a hand on this (I'm playing hurt, Coach! Gimme a break!!), but no...He just asks me to....wait....and (worse)...LISTEN!!

So. I did. I guess that's kind of the good news-bad news part of this leg of the journey: I find that I am not able to do much more than that. Oh, except for having some outrageously fun pity-parties, and anyone who knows me at all knows how much I love to entertain. At the beginning of this particular adventure, I had myself convinced that I would be spared the discomfort usually associated with pounding out of a monster like this. After all, I had Faith!! I loved JESUS!! And He would make treatment a piece of the proverbial cake!!!

ahem....not so fast....

Maybe I can blame the drugs again, but I seemed to have forgotten the Bible that I was reading. It is full of all kinds of promises for Believers. Yes, there is the promise of Eternal Life and abundance and blessings - in Heaven. Oh, yes, Jesus blesses us here on earth, also, and promises to NEVER leave us nor forsake us. But the same Savior also promises trials and pain and suffering. And I think it being sucky is a major component in the criteria that defines "Trial". oh, yeah.... now I remember...

So, this is what treatment - and this particular trial - looks like: it is a Monday-Friday gig, even though I have yet to do that. I had my first zappage on a Tuesday, so four days that week, and this week was mercifully broken up by Thanksgiving, thus making it a three day week followed by a one day week. But this week and next...five whole days in a row. Each session - all four sites - takes less time than it does for your dentist to go poking around your mouth, then say "rinse and spit"...and far, far less uncomfortable. In fact, I generally snooze a skosh, it's so kinda chill.

When I look back at my loopy first entry after my very first treatment, I think perhaps, just perhaps, I jumped to some erroneous conclusions. See above. The second treatment day, Greg and I met Don at our Wednesday evening Bible Study at church and I was still feeling pretty perky. Not so bad!! Yes, God is preserving from discomfort in this battle and trial and stuff!! Somewhere around the 2/3 mark of our Pastor's lesson, I noticed that the floor seem to be getting closer by a wee bit. Not only that, but lying on said floor seemed like a more and more viable option. I wasn't in pain at all, nor nauseous. I just had apparently run a marathon without remembering it. I know I had conversations with my wonderful CCW (Calvary Chapel Westside, for you newcomers....and old timers) family, but it's kinda hard to remember any of 'em.  Sorry, my beloveds.....

As treatments and days moved on, I began to feel what the literature promised - both the Bible and the stuff about radiation. Now, before you start feeling too sorry for me (something which you will never be better than me at doing. There goes that control thing again), let me tell you that it isn't like I am being so nuked that I "ding" when done, nor do I have things glowing or falling off of me...or out of me. It just is very...unpleasant. I have an undercurrent of queasiness that most mommies can relate to as part of those first fun weeks of pregnancy - but no amount of little crackers help. Fortunately, they have some pretty decent anti-blewp medicine (yay... more DRUGS!!!), so it's tolerable.

My palate has also been effected, which, as a foodie and cook, bugs me endlessly!! It was very interesting on Thanksgiving as I did my usual self-indulgent cooking like a psycho Martha Stewart. No, that is NOT redundant. Anyway, we had a few of our friends over, and I had budgeted my time and energy so I could get as much done as I could without turning myself into a blob that Don would have to pour into bed while entertaining our guests. Food done, people here - it was time to enjoy! Except...everything, EVERYTHING tasted so bland and the same to me, I was just miserable. But how blessed am I to have such friends who love me so much they ate a ton! Obviously, things came out better than my mouth was telling me, but it was still a rough one for me. See, did I not just TELL you how gifted I am at feeling sorry for myself!?!? Anyway, I have figured out how to eat brighter tasting things when I have an appetite, so it's not so bad.

The fatigue is something that I find that hardest, I think, but even that we have figured out. If we have anything to do on the other side, we get it done before treatment, because the steamroller with my name emblazoned across the front finds me about the time we are rolling into our part of the island. Again, completely manageable. For a more patient person.

I am beginning to walk a little more normally...for me - so that bar is kinda low to begin with. I am still pretty weak, and I won't be able to get in the water for another couple weeks because these targets that they painstakingly placed with likely come off!! Frustrating - but I'll live. I'm just quite eager to get back in, visit my fishies, and start building my muscles back up.

The weakness has definitely led to a couple moments of embarrassment. No, that's not accurate. Utter humiliation - but in a very entertaining way. A few days before Thanksgiving, I dropped Greg off at the 24 Hour Fitness and did our Thanksgiving shopping before going to treatment. One of my stops was Whole Foods for their sesame sticks. I ran into CCW family members Erica and her son, Samuel. I shoulda held on to them. After chatting it up, smiling about our errands, we split up to our different parts of the store. Mine was right at the front in those bulk food bins. And there they were. At the bottom row. Before all this nonsense, I was a relatively flexible little old Grammy, and strong, to boot. Have I ever mentioned that I am a prideful person who likes control and barely has a grip on reality when it comes to my limitations!?!?!? Squatted down, got m'sticks.... Could. Not. Get. Up. I tried reaching for the bins behind me, but I had visions of pulling the whole array down and being drowned in a sea of dried beans and other miscilaneous legumes. Behind me was a sprout-chewing, protein-smoothie-guzzling, ginger-headed biking-type examining the bulk food bins that had become my prison walls. I had no pride because I had no chance. I asked him for help, which he politely gave - then while saying "no worries!", he nearly sprinted for the other side of the store. Yeah...better that way for both of us, I think....

The good news is that the pain is definitely beginning to go away!! Howz that for a big ol' Praise God!!  To begin with, and as promised, the pain got worse before it got better. As they zap the oogies, healthy tissue gets nailed, as well. Not only that, but one of my radiologists (tell you about my nuclear entourage another time - but they R-O-C-K!!) described it as poking a hornet's nest. Oh, yes. Very good one. But since I have made friends with these things called pain pills, it was easily handled. This weekend I noticed a distinct easing in not only the site pain, but of the pain that plagued me to the point of seeing the doctor in the first place. To say I am grateful...I would be searching for the right words even if I had the full compliment at my mental disposal.

So, now I wrap this up. I want you all to know just how much your words of encouragement are part of this fight. I'm not always very brave or patient or cheerful or even very nice. But God is endlessly faithful, and He has surrounded me with people who continue to lift me up when it is hard. Ironically, and sadly, we found out this week that our brother-in-law (Don's sister's husband), Howard, has a recurrence of throat cancer - this time in his esophaegus. I now appreciate more the battle that he has, just as Don understands what Kathy is going through. It is part of the irony that Don and his two siblings are watching someone they care about fight this hideous enemy - Don and his sister, a spouse, and his sister, Carol, a grandchild. I ask your prayers for them as you pray for me.

This should be an interesting week. Somewhere, I need to start our annual manifesto known as the Dalton Christmas Letter. Not everyone on our list knows about this...adventure. Even Hallmark does not make a card for news such as this. But I trust in God to give me words. After all...He did give me a few zillion for this post...