Being Brave

Hi all,

I wanted to send a quick update following treatment #3.

1. "Chemo brain" or "chemo fog" is a real thing - and it's really annoying.
   
         Today is Day 7 in this third cycle, and honestly, it's the first day that I've felt like "the lights are on - and someone's finally home". I don't know how to explain it other than everything in my head feels slower. Gone are the quick decisions, the multi-tasking, even the logical reasoning at points. The frustrating thing about it is that I can totally tell it's going on, but I can't do much about it. I just have to kick back and wait for the fog to lift...

2. Chemo + Head Cold = I don't feel so good.

        It's springtime in Indiana, which means the trees, flowers, and my allergies are all in full bloom. So I guess that I shouldn't be surprised that the day after treatment a big ol' head cold showed up. Normally I'd be able to kick it pretty quick, but this time, not so much. With ears full of fluid, I feel like I spend my days doing my impersonation of an 80-year old version of myself - "Huh? What? What'd you say? Speak UP!!" This, coupled with a ridiculous amount of snot, (I'm pretty sure I am going to single-handedly help Kleenex make budget this quarter), the fatigue, and the return of "nothing-sounds-good-to-eat", the past week has been a rough one. I'm praying that I will be able to kick this cold before the next round so that I don't have to go into it already down.

3. Life feels like one big puzzle - and I'm not going to get to place that many pieces.

        At treatment last week, we talked with my oncologist about my upcoming Chemo Response appointment with the surgeon. After my fourth treatment, I will return to Dr. Nate who will complete some tests to determine whether or not the chemo is indeed shrinking the tumors. What I didn't know was that if they have not shrunk, the doctors will want me to pause chemo and have surgery instead. While on one hand that makes complete, logical sense, the thought of changing the "plan" really threw me for a loop because I had this all "planned" out: chemo would be done by late July, I'd get a month or so off, which would be great timing because I'd be feeling better as we started back into school, and then in September I'd have surgery. Great plan...or not.
         As much as I'd like to think that I have some kind of control in these circumstances, I really don't. I can't control how I feel. I can't control when I'm going to feel better. I can't control how this is all going to play out. When we first met Dr. Parshad, the oncologist, she made the comment about being sorry that chemo was the road that we needed to take. My response to her at the time was, "That's ok. If I were choosing what I was doing right now, I would choose to not even know you! But since that's not the case, we've got to choose whatever's going to work to get me better."

        I read a quote by author Ann Voskamp last week: "Do not pray for the hard things to go away - but pray for a bravery to come that is bigger than the hard thing." And that's what I've got to keep coming back to in these darker, quieter days. I could wish that I get my way, that all of this just magically goes away tomorrow, and that life would go back to "normal" again. But, I don't think that's what God has in mind for this season of life. So instead, I'll use these words from Psalm 138 and ask for a little bravery as we keep walking the road:

"When I called, You answered me. You made me bold and stouthearted."