Thanksgiving. Is that something we do when things go the way we want? When our desires are met, and all is right with the world? While I'm saddened by that fact that I've got more lesions in my liver, and that this new chemo has not been effective, (thus far-my CEA counts are still rising.) I look back over the last two years (plus a little bit), and a few things come instantly to mind.
1) I'm still here, and functional. (Depending on who you ask, and how the day’s gone.)
2) We've been shown an endless amount of love, prayer, and physical support by all of you.
3) Sarah has handled her disease well, and looks like things are going well for her healing. She will be getting a pulmonary function test and an echocardiogram this Thursday, and a PET and CT scan Dec. 11th to check the progress of the cancer. We should know results that day. We are hoping for no trace of the lymphoma, otherwise she’ll possibly need radiation, which could raise her risk of other cancers later to 1 in 3.
4) The other children have not turned to unhealthy means as a coping mechanism, which would be easy for them to do. Who wouldn't want to take an "escape route" with all of this?
5) We've had a few people who we call on for counsel in different areas, and so far they haven't totally rejected us due to burn-out.
6) Thanks to all of you, our debt load has been reduced considerably. Thank you.
7) I'm still here and functional. I still have days where I wake up and think "Wow-3 brain lesions, 11 vertebrae with lesions, dozens of lesions in my liver. My arms and legs still function, I can cook dinner and do laundry. Praise God for being able to load and unload my own washer and dryer. If I were in a different country, in a different time, or with different care, it may not have been this way.
8) People tell us that we are an encouragement to them. This still astounds me, because I don't know what we're doing, other than traveling to medical appointments and cooking food, and doing laundry :D It does make me feel good to know that if someone else is just starting their journey on this arduous road, that we could be of some benefit to them. It helps it to not be as lonely, as well as giving meaning and purpose to our lives.
9) I'm still here and functional. Sorry to be repetitive, but that's really a big deal to me. I want to see as many of my children's birthdays as I can. AND...this is my third Christmas since I began dealing with this! That's great. I hope for many more. Never denounce getting older. When you have to fight hard for each year you have, it's harder to take it for granted.
10) Pat and I are still married, still somewhat communicative, (when we have time) and love each other. It's very hard to be in a place where I feel like such a burden to my family--financially, emotionally, energy-wise, and he has shown much grace and patience with me getting mopey occasionally, and lately racing for the porcelain bowl. I tell Pat that "Turn-about is fair play" from when he was sick with Sweet's Syndrome years ago, and had some other stuff going on. I think maybe his turn-around time may be coming up, but don't tell him!!!
So there are 10 of the many things that I'm thankful for this year. I think none of them would be happening without the Lord's leading and grace. He has been so faithful.
Isaiah 42:16 says "I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them: I will turn the darkness into Light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them." I've had this promise posted on our refrigerator, along with the menu, or shopping lists. It continuously speaks to me about our situation. We are so very blind-in our health care, in our future, for every breath we take, how long we will be on this earth. I can only take responsibility for my own walk with God, how I spend my time, how I think my thoughts and carry out my actions. From the beginning my thoughts have tended toward "Have I loved the people around me enough?" Do those I know, and those I encounter really KNOW that I care for them, and that the Lord loves them through me? It's a huge commitment to say that you are a Christian. There is a price to pay, and it is with every breath and thought. It's not about political party or gender or whether I wear glasses, or Daniel has Down's Syndrome. It's about how faithful we are with what we've been given and what we do with it. I hope that I will be considered at least somewhat faithful, as we travel this path. This path that is lit only enough to see one step, and sometimes only one minute at a time. We are all somewhat blind in this life, and need continuous leading and wisdom. May we be humble enough to reach out beyond ourselves, and share what light we do possess with those around us. In return there is unimaginable freedom, and a family for eternity.
