Friday, May 20, 2011

The fight continues...

Late yesterday afternoon, I got the call. Every time the phone rings on appointment days, my heart stops a little. I want to hear my dad's voice, I want to know the results, but there's this tiny part in me that longs to climb out of my body and avoid it all. I am learning more and more about my propensity to avoid. I can't say where it started, but it's there.

The appointment went better than any of us had thought. I think my mom, dad, and I had all noticed that the shortness of breath was much worse, and therefore expected that things must not be working. Her scan did show an increase in the fluid around her left lung, but the doctor doesn't feel it medically necessary to drain it off at this point. Instead, he wants to leave that up to my mother; when she feels it's time to drain, he will schedule it to be done. The doctor also added an additional drug to her treatment, one that she had in conjunction with her chemo years ago, in hopes that it will be an effective partner in starving the cancer.

That's a question that many have asked. They don't understand how you can have cancer and not be on chemo. I'll admit, I felt the same way at first, and kept questioning my dad about it. But when you are dealing with a chronic form of cancer that is slow growing, I believe the approach is more of withholding what feeds it instead of attacking it. Perhaps this is the most challenging part of the treatment plan... the wait and see what works, the be patient part, the seemingly non-confrontational approach to the cancer cells.

I'd like to attack it. Let's go in there commando style with oozies and heavy artillery and blast each and every cancer cell inside her body! Let's do it up right and rid her of all of it! But that is nearly impossible... even in real life war situations, we deal with innocent casualties of war. But the last thing you want to do is kill more good than bad. We wouldn't sacrifice 500 innocent people to kill one bad guy, so why would we do the same to our body?

So that's where we are. Withholding as much of the hormone that feeds my mother's cancer as possible. By withholding the food, we hope the cancer starves to death. And when I stop and think about it in more depth, the slightly passive-aggressive side of me kind of enjoys this process a little. I like the thought of the evil cancer inside her calling out for food, for water, for anything, and being denied. Maybe that sounds a little twisted to some, but it's easier for me to think about it in those terms.

I've been a little down lately. Not depressed, not losing faith, just weary at heart. So I have started praying the same verses every day to my Lord, calling out to Him, trying to rest inside His hand. I will share it with you all in hopes that it will lift you up in some small way...

Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts, see if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting. Psalm 139: 23-24

Lead me, Lord. Read every word on my heart. Pour over my thoughts as only You can. Lead me. Though I am barely able to walk right now, I am trying so desperately to follow...

And thank you all, my precious friends, for your prayers. Please continue lifting my sweet Mama's name up to her Creator...

1 comment:

Chelle said...

Thinking of you and your precious mama.