It has been so good to be home these last few days. Fresh air (even the manure smells of Cloverdale). Non-plasticized pillows & bed. No vital signs. I take pills when I want/need them. Wifi. Home-cooked delicious meals. Family. Extended family. Friends. Putting my boy to bed at night.
It has been good.
We've even ventured out to pick up my new snazzy blue walker and have done outings to Costco, the park with my boy, my husband's soccer game, and the ocean. I tire more easily but want to live each day fully as I have strength & energy.
"Krista, will you promise me to not think and write a post about yourself in a negative way? I want to read about you just in the positive way."
I received this request a few days ago and could not promise anything other than being myself and sharing my story. Being myself involves knowing & accepting truth: God has not changed, I am His, I have cancer, and I have hope. But I also want to be real. This sucks! I think about death because I'm alive. We're all going to die people! If I can't share about my hope in death, what right do I have to talk about my hope while living?
Joy & sorrow are not exclusive or at opposite ends of the spectrum of my emotions right now. They live fused together in me. Hearing my boy say "mama" is such a wonderful sound and at the same time my heart just aches at the thought of him calling my name and I'm not there.
I cannot make the promise to hide my negative thoughts. Death will eventually come for all of us and so I will continue to live in the hope and strength and power of the One Who Made Me. I will promise, however, to share my story as honestly and openly as I'm able.
Since my cancer has gone to my brain (and because of how many spots I have and where they are located), I have been given a poorer prognosis. To me these are simply facts & my current reality. God is still in control, He numbers my days and I will live in His hope. And I'm still asking for a miracle.
My medical treatment since diagnosis has always been palliative (with the goal of extending a good quality of life for us... not to cure my cancer). My treatment is still palliative and I still have a number of options before me. As my diagnosis has become more complex and rare, my oncologist has presented my case before other oncologists to receive the best options for treatment. We will be hearing these options and making decisions on Monday morning.
There may be a wide range of thoughts as to how I'm doing. I'm not in hospice. We're still heading down the road of treatment and symptom suppression. My brain swelling has decreased and I'm able to speak with minimal slurring. Some words are still difficult to enunciate but I can handle that. I have fatigue, muscle weakness, and loss of sensation to parts of my leg & foot. I can move around the house very decently... when we're out I hold onto a stroller or walker or person as needed. I'll lose my hair next week from the brain radiation. I have a voracious appetite (and some chubbier cheeks) thanks to my steroids. These are just some of the physical things going on.
Emotionally & spiritually, it's been hard. While our trust in God hasn't changed, we have unanswerable questions and are getting through each day. We have hope. We are reeling. With a grateful heart, I think we're doing surprisingly well. We do, however, need your continued prayers to bring us to God when we just can't to get to Him. Thank you for doing this for us.
It is good to be home.
Krista,
ReplyDeleteI have been following your blog closely since it was brought to my attention two weeks ago. I have shared it with friends who share your unquestionable faith in hopes that they will support you and your family in prayer.
What I read in your blog resonates so clearly for me: "This is the Krista I have known as colleague for years. The quiet one who always had a smile yet such a sense of depth to her spirit and soul."
I can only say thank you for your honesty in your story. Thank you for sharing your humour, vulnerability, fears, joys, facts and uncertainty. Regardless of why this has happened it has and your courage, reality and faith is a lesson for all of us. Your story and messages are humbling! Tell them as you wish Krista! I applaud your courage. God bless you Krista. You are in my thoughts and I am praying for you and your family.
Wishing you comfort of mind, body and soul!
With great fondness,
Tracie
Krista - I can only echo what our mutual colleague Tracie has said above. Be true to yourself and your God and tell your story the way that you want to. As many have said, you have an amazing insight and an eloquent voice that has already inspired hundreds (if not thousands of people).
ReplyDeleteAs always, thinking of you.
Joy
The Psalmist David wrote of his hurt and pain and fear so often. The enemy camped about him. He feared for his very life. And yet he had hope. It's okay to write about the painful stuff and the hurtful stuff and the negative stuff. It doesn't lessen your hope in God or the way you demonstrate that to us. My husband wrote a blog when he was dying of cancer. It is filled with frustration and sorrow, but also with hope and with trust in our God who know what is best for us all. The idea that you should suppress your sad thoughts and feelings and only focus on the bright, sunny side is unrealistic. And its dishonest as well. Please keep pouring your heart out with vulnerability as you see fit, and your family and friends (even those like me who have never met you) will keep praying for you.
ReplyDeleteCan I just say how blessed I was to see you at PCC this morning! Walking - un-aided to participate in Communion! Xhevat kept a watchful eye - but gave you this gift of independence. God is the giver of many gifts and this was one of them! Praying for you both for tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteThe author of the request for you to only be "up" sounds like they have their own fears and issues dealing with the reality of life's finality. Maybe they might need prayer also to accept the truths of life. I like your candour and David like thoughts. I am glad you will stick to your convictions and truth.
ReplyDeleteKeep doing what your doing. We will never know joy if we don't experience sorrow. It's always okay to feel your feelings, it's how you deal with them that shows your true strength. You are the strongest person I know. Share, be yourself and be proud of all that you have done.
ReplyDeleteRobyn
Krista, we have not met, but you are in our thoughts and prayers. I truly admire your strength and openness regarding your story. I found being as open as possible with my own battle to be very helpful. My oncologist has sent my case to a radiation specialist to see if we can ZAP the lymph node in my neck, and to the surgeon again regarding the nodes in my abdomen. Still listed as palliative, on the last cocktail of chemo available, and maybe clinical trials, if available, if this chemo stops being effective.
ReplyDeleteOn April 22, 2013, I had a somewhat of an epiphany and found my faith. I was sent a link from my cousin. It was a song by Big Daddy Weave, I'm sure you know it, it is Redeemed. I listened over and over. I literally felt a pile of weight taken from my shoulders that morning. It was 2 months later that they changed my prognosis to terminal. I am still listed as such, but the tumors have all shown great amounts of shrinkage. I do believe that all the prayers from family, extended family, and friends, even relative strangers, have made a difference in my fight, as it has with yours. Please continue with your positive, yet real approach to this. remember, No One Fights Alone.