Recently, I had someone ask me how I am doing and where we are going from here with my follow-ups, and I realize I didn’t write about the results of my recent scans… will you forgive how late this is? So many of you have been praying, and I never want you to think your love and prayers aren’t important to me.
At the end of the day my exhaustion and pain often overwhelm, and it is rare for me to find time to write anymore. I hate this feeling. My words seem stolen from me, and the catharsis they once were is gone. It is one more thing the struggle of life has taken from me, and I ache with the longing for words to come.
But I am writing now… full of gratefulness for clear scans and no surgeries looming.
The scan showed no sign of cancer and no need for anymore surgery.
What this means is we don’t know why I’m still having so much abdominal pain, although over the past week that pain has been diminishing some.
I see my oncologist next week and we’ll discuss what it could mean and where we go from here.
But at least we know there is no cancer.
In the near future I will head over the mountain to the hospital to meet with a geneticist to see what they recommend. I have already had three genetic tests for my specific cancers, and they have all come back negative which means my cancer isn’t something I can pass on to my children. But they want to look deeper at me… more specifically at my chromosomes to determine if I have a genetic mutation that is causing my different cancers. If so, then this might help determine when/if another cancer will come and help me know how to help prevent it. It seems like so much to comprehend
As for how I am? I never know how to answer that question. Every day is different.
In general I am doing well. Or fairly well. I fatigue easily, and I find chemo brain to still be extremely frustrating. Last week I was cooking supper and halfway through I completely forgot how to cook. I couldn’t figure out what the recipe meant and how on earth to mix cornstarch into the sauce to thicken it. I knew I should know, but my brain just. wouldn’t. work.
It was scary and frustrating at the same time. Thankfully, my Bri was home and started packing up everything on the counter and stovetop. “You don’t need to figure it out tonight,” he said. Then he went out and bought us supper.
As our friend, Joe, tells me, “He’s a good man, Ang.” Yes. Yes he is. I’m so thankful he’s mine.
We are learning that the new normal that we keep waiting for will probably never come, and we are learning to be okay with that. Normal will change for us on a consistent basis, and as hard as that might be for someone who doesn’t do well with change, I’m learning to accept it.
Learning to accept.
Thankful for what’s given and choosing to move forward.
There’s a scene in the movie, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, where King Caspian has reached the edge of Aslan’s Country and is given the chance to enter. He has longed to be with his father again, and now is his opportunity. He reaches out and touches the wall of water then turns back to his friends, to Aslan, to his life. When asked why he didn’t enter, he responds with something along the lines of, “I’ve spent too long focusing on what was taken from me and not enough on what was given.”
Grieving is a hard place to be. It will always be a part of me, a part of this, of us. But I am taking steps forward… away from grief and tasting grace.
It is a struggle. Daily I see and feel the effects of six surgeries and four cancers and lupus and fatigue and pain and scars and the inability to be and do what I have been and done for years. There is all the time my family and I have lost together and the moments we haven’t had were our life a “normal” one. I struggle with all the sacrifices my husband and children have made for me. It is a hard place to be. But I don’t want to be stuck here either.
There is a place to grieve all of this, I know, and there will be moments when it all hits like a tsunami and takes my breath away.
But, oh y’all, look how much I have been given!
There will be so many moments where God’s grace will steal my breath away… so many moments where He already has.
His grace fills me.
Look. how. much. I. have!
Yes. So much has been taken.
But look what has been given.
I could not ask for more.
It is the nature of grace to fill the spaces that have been empty…