Today starts the beginning of week 35, meaning that I have 13 more weeks of shots left. I have given myself 210 shots, only 78 more to go. Everyone continues to tell me “Hang in there, it’s almost over.” Is it? Mathematically, I’m almost 73 percent through. But I don’t think I will ever be over this. It’s changed me.
On one hand, I am confident in the fact that God is using me to bring Him glory. On the other hand, I am so tired, or sick, or sore that I just exist through the day. The day of my shots, I feel pretty good all day; after the shots, I feel like I’m losing a battle. The day in between, sometimes it’s good; other times it’s really bad. I never know what to expect.
I’m trying to be grateful. My situation could have been so much worse.
Have you noticed how many people are battling cancer? Every time I turn around, someone is being diagnosed, beginning treatment, or even passing on. My heart hurts – desperately – every time I hear about a new battle beginning or another being lost. I don’t think I was this sympathetic until I started walking this journey. I’ve changed. I’ll always feel different, more compassionate, about the demon called cancer.
I look forward to the day when God says “No More”; you will not take another of my children.
Last week, God took two of his servants home – both losing their battle with cancer. And both were welcomed, no doubt, home by Jesus himself. I wish I could wash away the hurt and the loss; but until we ourselves are home, we must continue to walk in faith that God’s got all of this junk under His control.
Pray for the families and friends of Mike (in Nashville) and Bruce (in Sedalia), that God will comfort them in their time of sorrow and rejoicing. Pray for Joey – who started interferon treatments last Friday. And, please pray for Lorenda, who just found out she has to have a double mastectomy. She’s grateful, however, because she learned yesterday that she won’t have to have chemo.
Please be sensitive to the people around you battling cancer. Sometimes, even when you are surrounded by family and friends who love you very much, it is a long and lonely road.
Pray for the doctors and nurses who treat these families, administering treatments day in and day out. These ladies (at least where I was treated) develop relationships with the patients they treat. Imagine the loss they experience. Yet they continue on, serving with love, compassion, and respect. I’m convinced there’s a special place in heaven for them.
And, above all, don’t stop believing. No matter the physical outcome, God’s got this.