Pulling on my blogging shoes...

Okay guys. I've been waiting for something really inspired or witty to come to me but have finally realized that I've just gotten out of the habit of blogging and I need to lower the bar for myself. So this is me tugging on my blogging shoes and limping through my first post-holiday blog.

Chris is doing well... not real-life-good but cancer-good. He did a cycle after Thanksgiving and it was okay. There weren't any of the horrible side effects we dealt with in the fall. He didn't even have to take the meds that give him crazy drug eyes. We expected that he'd have to be on chemo over Christmas, but given his record of not responding to chemo the way anyone expects, his doctor didn't want to foist him off on a colleague over Christmas. So, everyone (especially the boys) was thrilled to get Chris for Christmas. It was a wonderful imperfectly perfect holiday with a mish-mash of holy moments and just enough reality to keep me from getting insufferably satisfied with myself. There was a Sunday evening service when, during a carol, I looked over and saw Jacob asleep on Chris' shoulder. The sight of all those boys I love sitting together in church made my soul happy. Really, I should look at them all in dim lighting with soulful music in the background more often. We delivered cookies at the hospital on Christmas Eve, and my favorite barista - the one who always gives me the employee discount, was working, and I was able to thank her for making the coffee that brought me so much comfort over the past year.

But then, those holy moments only come in snatches. I got the Christmas Eve service time wrong, so we were late and had to sit in the lobby. One of the boys told me that in the future he'd rather not deliver cookies at the hospital because it's really not that fun. Two of them fought over who got to hand the cookies to the security guard. The winner of that debate got his in the end, though. The security guard was a gregarious and affectionate woman who insisted on giving him a big hug. Rand dropped a full glass of water on my toe on Christmas. It hurt so bad I had to leave the room to keep from cussing at him. I was sure it was broken. I thought about swiping some of Chris' serious drugs. I whined. A lot. By the next morning it was clear I was fine.

Chris: How's your toe?

Me: Fine. How's your cancer?

Wow. That's a lot of words and we're not even caught up yet. I'm going to pick up the pace. Chris did another round of chemo about a week and a half ago. It was okay. It's still chemo, but it's punch you in the gut and let you recover kind of chemo, not punch you in the gut, kick you in both shins, stomp on your face and then pull out your teeth on the way to the hospital kind of chemo.

Overall, Household H is doing okay. It's starting to feel like this chemo road may have an end at some point.

 

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Ten books that have influenced me...

Or, what I did Saturday morning (write this list) instead of the laundry.

In no particular order these are books that have influenced me or my reading...

1. Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis - Chris recommended this book when we were dating. I read the chapter on pride, and it was painful. It was the first time I really understood that God wasn't super-excited to have me on his team since I was a "good kid" and the beginning of understanding sin and grace.

2. Sailing Alone Around the Room by Billy Collins - I told my friend Kara that I did not understand poetry, and she recommended Billy Collins. I love reading his poems because I understand (I think) what he's talking about. (for the poetry novice I also recommend Good Poems collected by Garrison Keillor.

3. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte - This isn't my favorite classic, but it's an important first for me. I saw it on my Senior reading list in high school and groaned because it sounded so boring. Wuthering... withering... ughhh. I was so surprised to find that it's actually interesting. The story grabbed a hold of me and gave me confidence to try Pride and Prejudice, The Count of Monte Cristo and more.

4. Incidents in the of a Slave Girl by Harriet Jacobs - This was written by a runaway slave in the mid-1800's. The scariest part of this book to me was the damage that was done by generally well-meaning people who lacked the courage or oomph to do the hard right thing. It's a fascinating window into what it was like to live with slavery. It turned me on to good historical nonfiction books.

5. The Histories by Herodotus - This was not easy to read, but it was worth it. It helped me see how much we inherit from Judaic law. And there are so many good stories here: the culture that auctioned off its unmarried women in order of beauty (men were paid to take the ugly ones and had to pay for the good looking ones), the Spartans brushing their hair and dancing as a pre-battle routine,...

6. Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery - I think this was the first REALLY good children's book I fell in love with. I wanted to be Anne. I kind of still do.

7. Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card - For years Chris tried to get me to read this, but I had no confidence that he could pick something I'd find readable. Someone else recommended it, so I read it (he'll be mad about that until the end of time) and really enjoyed it. Now Chris is my fantasy guru. He knows what I will and will not like and has recommended several other good ones - Name of the Wind, Way of Kings, Wheel of Time, ...

8. Winnie the Pooh - I read this in college on a whim and was surprised to find much more sophisticated humor than I expected (I've read it to my kids a few times, and the older kids always enjoy it in a different way than they did when they were younger.) It was the beginning of rediscovering children's literature as an adult.

9. Where is God When It Hurts by Philip Yancey - I read this at a time when I felt set upon by God. I was too angry to read the Bible but wanted to read something spiritualish. This book helped me understand that I was not the only person in the world who had been hurt and helped me come to terms with my unanswered questions.

10. Anna Karenina by Tolstoy - I tried to read this in college and found it unbelievably boring. I picked up again as an adult and loved it. It's one of my all time favorites now. So, this book helped me give a whole category of books a second chance. Some (Madame Bovary) I still hate, but some that I hated as a teenager I was able to enjoy as an adult.

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Star Wars snowflakes...

It's hard to find Christmas crafts for boys. A friend sent this awesome option. It's cool, and it works. All you need is a printer, paper, scissors and an exacto knife. Be sure and watch the video on how to fold.

Star Wars Snowflake

 

 

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Chemo Eve...

It's been almost a year since Chris and I got a message stating that his first round of chemo would start the next day.  We were sitting at the bar at Lupe's waiting for a to-go order, and I cried because I just couldn't believe that my young, strong husband really needed chemo, and I was so scared because I had no idea what it would mean for all of us.  Would he throw up all the time?   Would he be able to get out of bed? Would he have eyebrows in a week?  The reality has been slower and more relentless than I expected - less like climbing a mountain and more like walking from Maine to California.

Chris has been on a chemo break.  The last round was terrible, and he needed a break.  Slowly he's returned to us.  The last few weeks have been almost normal, and that's been so good for all of us.  He got to go on a trip with friends.  We all got to enjoy Thanksgiving.  We went out on a date, played games with the boys, and talked a lot.  There's such blessing in normal life.  

Chris has about six more months of chemo to go, and tomorrow morning we start another round.  It's Chemo Eve again.  This time I know more of what we're facing, so its a better-informed, deeper, quieter sadness.  We'll lose something indefinable tomorrow - I can't quite put words around it, but it's a part of Chris we need for a normal, family life.  It feels like a terrible preview of what could be coming.  But now I know he'll come back.  We're not going to lose Chris to chemo.  The real battle is with cancer and nobody knows how that's going to end.  Cancer is a much cagier beast.  Living with that kind of uncertainty is... impossible.  But the impossibility of it is a blessing.  I know I can't manage it, and so I'm spared a lot of pointless effort.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  Matthew 11:28-30

Nerf gun olive branch...

It's been a rough couple of weeks. Chris' chemo regimen changed and we thought he was going to feel better, but it's been so much worse. Twice in the past week I've thought, "He's in as much pain as I've seen him in," and I watched him get a fourth of his leg replaced last spring. The bar is pretty high.

And it's hard to deal kindly and gently with the boys when I'm tired and worried and when Chris needs me so much. I had good intentions tonight but was way too harsh with David. After the boys were in bed...

Chris: Is David okay? Remember the advice we got about making it right with the boys at bed time? You should get one of the nerf guns and go shoot David.

Me: That's a great idea.

So, because I ambushed him with a nerf machine gun, David and I are now okay. Boys are so weird.

 

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An update...

We had some unexpected good news this week.  Out of concern that he was developing pneumonia, Chris' oncologist scheduled a last minute chest scan this week.  There's something going on in his lungs, but it's not pneumonia and it's not cancer.*  His lungs are still clear.  And we got that update without a weeks-long, emotionally fraught waiting period.  

I was in the car today and realized that I was in a really good mood.  This is a novelty.  Right now I'm generally okay or not okay, but the last few days have been good, smiling kind of days.  

Inner dialogue:  Why am I in a good mood?  Hmmmm...  Chris doesn't have cancer in his lungs right now, and the boys are loving school.  

That's it.  Seriously guys, the bar is pretty low these days.  (For more on simple life goals, see this previous post.)

* For the curious or medical types, it's probably a toxic reaction to chemo that the doctor describes as sort of chemical pneumonia.  That sounds really bad unless you're comparing it to cancer.

Waiting rooms...

I spend a lot of time in waiting rooms these days. A cancer waiting room is fraught with potential for all kinds of inappropriate things, and I've seen some real gems. I'd like to think these particular selections were made with an ironic smile, but I doubt it.

This was on a table in a waiting room a few months ago...

There's really nothing else to say about that.

And today, blaring on the television in the crowded waiting room of the oncologist, was a soap opera. To fully appreciate this, picture the waiting room. The patients included a teenaged girl, a nursing mother, a young man with his mom and many, many more hurting people in the middle of heartbreaking situations. Most were just breathing deeply and trying to get through this next appointment. And in the background we have heavily made up, hysterical people wailing about things that are definitely not cancer. Chris and I got the giggles over it. I made eye contact with the mother of the young man sitting across from us. I smiled. She rolled her eyes. We didn't need any words.

 

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