Prayers

Though I have been a hypochondriac for most of my adult life, I have never been as consistently plagued with ailments as I have been since starting chemo. I'm not sure how many people really "do chemo well," but I'm learning, to my dismay, that my body is in sad shape for the job.

The last round went better with the Emend pills to help with the nausea, but within days I developed what it took some time to figure out was a candida infection in my throat that was painful, made eating difficult and caused me to drop a lot of weight. Candida in the throat, for those of you who aren't hypochondriacs or in the medical field, is basically a yeast infection in the throat and mouth, as in that thing babies get called thrush. Yes, thrush, just like babies get.

It's common, I guess, for chemo patients to get this, and is different than some other kinds of mouth afflictions associated with chemo. All I know is, it felt like I was trying to put rocks down my throat when I would drink water, so I'm glad they figured it out (and I have new found sympathy for poor little babies who get this).

But it took some time to figure out this was the problem. On Monday I called to tell the chemo nurses about my then mystery affliction and the response was to keep gargling magic cures (which I knew would never help three inches down my throat) and "come in for three days of IV hydration."

On Monday night, the day before my sister Deb arrived and the day before I was to start the IV therapy, I remember being in total agony all through my neck and throat as I tried to fall asleep. My tonsils felt as big as golf balls (yet had somehow disappeared from sight in my mouth) and I was miserable. So I begged God to please, please, please let Dr. Hilliard make time to actually see me the next day and know exactly how to fix whatever was wrong with my throat when I went in for the hydration IV. I didn't want to have to be a sticky wheel, I was too worn out. I just wanted them to take care of me and I asked God to let it be so.

And then, it wasn't until Tuesday night as I was lying in bed, trying to unwind from all the excitement of seeing my sister again and the crazy day of dr. appointments we had, that I remember the prayer and was able to thank God that without any begging from me, Dr. Hilliard had come immediately to my green lounge chair that afternoon as Nurse Missy (my new favorite--Candy's been on vacation and you snooze, you lose, Candy) hooked up my fluid IV. Dr. Hilliard looked down my throat, pronounced it candida/thrush and wrote a prescription (thank you again, God, a real medication to cure it!), all within just minutes of my arrival.

I'm embarrassed I'd almost forgotten that I had asked God for all those specific things and they happened effortlessly. God doesn't always give me what I want, but on Tuesday he did it in spades.

I'm so grateful that the medicine is working--and I've enjoyed my sister so much--but it's also been a week of constant physical ailments. Though I'm slowly eating normally again, I "blew" two veins in my left hand before they found a good one on my right on Wednesday--which led to them leaving that IV port in overnight--all bandaged up to keep it clean and ready for the next appointment. Then Wednesday evening, Thursday evening and again tonight I've had terribly painful migraines that seem to get worse each time. To top it off, last night I was up until 3 a.m. with intestinal issues, completely exhausted--I literally put a chair in front of the porcelain throne (trying to describe this delicately) so as to rest my head on something, as I didn't have the strength to even sit up straight and keep my eyes open during the ordeal.

The "ordeal" set my weight back again--it's magical how easy it is to lose weight when it's the last thing your body needs. Thankfully, this morning Nate took the kids to Forest Home with him mid-morning and I was able to go back to bed. I thought I'd sleep for an hour or two to catch up a bit ... then woke up at 3:30 wondering how I could possibly have slept away the entire day.

And now tonight another migraine, which I finally broke out the narcotics for (thus the writing--heavy duty painkillers make me want to chatter, and, hey, it worked for Poe).

To be certain, the week wasn't all bad, and I've had some great times with my sister and spent some time with friends on Thursday. But I'm truly weary of the afflictions, and suddenly being halfway through isn't feeling like much of an accomplishment. The glass feels half empty instead of half full.

So ... the point of this long entry--other than to be pitiful--is to ask for your prayers that I will feel good again by Sunday, have excellent results from my blood work on Monday, and be able to continue with my THIRD round of chemo on Monday afternoon, going into it healthy and rested.

I don't want to have it postponed. And I also want to feel as good as possible going into it. And after this week I know God can certainly answer my desperate prayers, BUT I also know--as someone whose prayers are, more often than not, answered differently than I'd hoped--that whatever happens it will be all right. God works things together for good. If it's postponed, it will mean I'll be able to enjoy my time left with my sister instead of using her as a nurse, so it won't be the end of the world.

But, Lord, if I could have it my way, I really really want to get this
third milestone over with. So please let it be so. AMEN.

Oh, and if this post makes no sense, I blame it entirely on
the narcotics. - Tam