I had my first Taxol treatment on Friday, and my blood counts had dropped so low that they said if they don't come back up by my next treatment I will need a blood transfusion (O+, anyone?). While hooked up to the IV my mom called to let me know she was on her way to the instacare because my 4-year-old got a bead stuck up his nose. Luckily my brother Dan was there to mow my lawn when it happened, so he helped her with the other kids while Jonas had the bead removed. So I stressed for a few minutes, but once everything was taken care of, I succumbed to the Benadryl in my IV and drifted off to sleep for a bit. Then they gave me some steroids, followed by the Taxol. I didn’t have any side effects from the Taxol while they were giving it to me, but that night I started having tightness in my chest. I still had it the next day, so we had to go to the ER and get a CAT scan to rule out a blood clot. Then Saturday night I got a temperature, so I’m now taking antibiotics. Other than that, I think the Taxol is easier than the A/C. I’m having some bone pain and fatigue, but the nausea is minimal.
I'm trying so hard to stay positive and to remember my blessings, but the treatments are wearing on me emotionally. I suddenly have a high water table and I have been crying all the time. The nurse in the ER asked me about my kids, and I just burst into tears. I am glad Keith was there with me to smile at me, or I probably wouldn't have been able to stop crying. But I am so frustrated by the limitations the treatments put on me, and it is so depressing to not be able to be the mother and wife that I want to be.
So on a note of negativity, let me attempt some positivity. I am grateful my sickness is temporary. There are people out there who have life-long illnesses and disabilities, and my illness (hopefully) will only last a year or so. My family is healthy. I have three wonderful little boys and a wonderful, patient husband who loves me. I have food on my table (even if I don't feel like eating it), and clean water to drink. I have a roof over my head and clothes on my back. I have the knowledge of the gospel, which if applied, can help me through anything. My husband has a good job, we have good benefits. Countless people have helped us with meals, childcare, and expenses, and I know there are people out there who have to suffer this type of thing alone. So, I need to be more grateful!!!
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Good Weekend
All things considered, it has been a good, normal weekend. Yesterday we drove to the Uintahs and went fishing at Crystal Lake (a little but breathtakingly beautiful lake). Keith got a bite, and the kids reeled in some green stuff, but we didn't leave with any fish. And once the kids (and I) stopped whining about how long it took to get there, we had a good time.
Today was a usual Sunday, we went to church, I taught my adorable girls about baptism for the dead (I love lessons like that - they always have a million questions and we get off on tangent after tangent, but they're fun tangents). After church I helped the boys build a train track with a big, big hill, then read them a couple books. I love days when I feel normal. They give me hope and remind me that all of this is temporary.
I've also been meaning to write about the results of my genetic testing. I found out at my last treatment that I have a BRAC1 deleterious mutation. That means I had an 87% chance of getting breast cancer before the age of 70. It also means that I have a 20% chance of getting ovarian cancer (would have been 44% if I didn't have breast cancer), and my doctor suggests that I have my ovaries removed when I am done having kids. So now I have to wrestle with the decision of whether or not to try for a girl. If I do have another baby, the doctor said I needed to wait at least three years after my treatment is over. What if I get ovarian cancer by then? And if I have a girl, she has a 50% chance of having the same genetic mutation. So ... very sadly ... I might be done having kids. Of course my mom and Keith want me to be done, but I still haven't decided for sure. I will have to make a decision in the coming months though. I just want to know God's will before I make such a permanent decision! I will be doing lots of praying to figure this one out...
Today was a usual Sunday, we went to church, I taught my adorable girls about baptism for the dead (I love lessons like that - they always have a million questions and we get off on tangent after tangent, but they're fun tangents). After church I helped the boys build a train track with a big, big hill, then read them a couple books. I love days when I feel normal. They give me hope and remind me that all of this is temporary.
I've also been meaning to write about the results of my genetic testing. I found out at my last treatment that I have a BRAC1 deleterious mutation. That means I had an 87% chance of getting breast cancer before the age of 70. It also means that I have a 20% chance of getting ovarian cancer (would have been 44% if I didn't have breast cancer), and my doctor suggests that I have my ovaries removed when I am done having kids. So now I have to wrestle with the decision of whether or not to try for a girl. If I do have another baby, the doctor said I needed to wait at least three years after my treatment is over. What if I get ovarian cancer by then? And if I have a girl, she has a 50% chance of having the same genetic mutation. So ... very sadly ... I might be done having kids. Of course my mom and Keith want me to be done, but I still haven't decided for sure. I will have to make a decision in the coming months though. I just want to know God's will before I make such a permanent decision! I will be doing lots of praying to figure this one out...
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
4 Down, 4 to Go
I just wanted to thank everyone for their encouragement and kind words. It gives me extra strength to know that so many people are praying for me and cheering me on. I've been feeling quite brave this week, though I still don't claim it as my own - I know that I am being carried through this by my Savior and his atonement. As Jeffrey R. Holland stated in his article in the most recent Ensign,
"After speaking of sufferings so exquisite to feel and so hard to bear, Jesus said, “I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they [and that means you and I and everyone] might not suffer if they would repent” (D&C 19:16). In our moments of pain and trial, I guess we would shudder to think it could be worse, but without the Atonement it not only could be worse, it would be worse. Only through our faith and repentance and obedience to the gospel that provided the sacred Atonement is it kept from being worse."
I know that without the Atonement, my suffering would be so much worse. I am eternally grateful to a Savior who loves me enough to take the burdens of my trials from my shoulders.
I am also happy to report that I am halfway done with my chemo treatments. And the last four treatments are a different drug (called Taxol) that my doctor says *most* people have an easier time with. He says it doesn't cause as much nausea and fatigue, just achiness and maybe some bone pain. But I am starting to see the light at the end of the chemo tunnel. I know I will get through this!
"After speaking of sufferings so exquisite to feel and so hard to bear, Jesus said, “I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they [and that means you and I and everyone] might not suffer if they would repent” (D&C 19:16). In our moments of pain and trial, I guess we would shudder to think it could be worse, but without the Atonement it not only could be worse, it would be worse. Only through our faith and repentance and obedience to the gospel that provided the sacred Atonement is it kept from being worse."
I know that without the Atonement, my suffering would be so much worse. I am eternally grateful to a Savior who loves me enough to take the burdens of my trials from my shoulders.
I am also happy to report that I am halfway done with my chemo treatments. And the last four treatments are a different drug (called Taxol) that my doctor says *most* people have an easier time with. He says it doesn't cause as much nausea and fatigue, just achiness and maybe some bone pain. But I am starting to see the light at the end of the chemo tunnel. I know I will get through this!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Courage is Not Mine
I’ve always considered myself a fairly brave person. But these past couple weeks I’ve learned that I’m not as brave as I thought.
With each chemo treatment, it’s gotten more and more difficult to recover from the side effects. It’s a bit terrifying to watch and feel my body react to the deadly chemicals that are running through it. The nausea is constant, and even though I try to eat enough to give my body the nutrients it needs to rebuild, I can’t. My heart pounds for nine days straight, trying to deliver oxygen to my body with a fraction of my usual red blood cells. I have a sore throat and mouth sores, and my skin color alternates between pale yellow and green. I have no energy, and I can relate to the toys on the floor with generic drained batteries that strain to function and sound demon-possessed when they try to speak. The drug they give me to rebuild my blood-counts causes bone pain, and I feel pain in places I didn’t know it was possible to have pain. I have phlebitis in my left arm because apparently my veins don’t like poison. And so I lie awake at night, wondering how much more my body can take.
So through all this, I have discovered that I am not brave. If I was, I would face my trials head-on with a smile, or at least with a firm scowl of determination. Instead, I have been whimpering every time I feel pain, and breaking down into tears every time I think about my next chemo treatment and all the ones to follow. At times I am more afraid of the treatment for cancer than the cancer itself. I feel like a terrified, sobbing child who has just been informed they’ll be going to the doctor for a shot, who is inconsolable even after the parent reassures them that the shot will only hurt for a little bit and will keep them from getting sick. Yep, I’m a wimp.
So after I broke down in tears for the millionth time yesterday (because my arm was hurting from the phlebitis), I knelt down and asked God for strength, to help me be brave and face all that I have to go through with courage. When I finished praying, I went to the scriptures to learn how to be more brave. I found my answer in the following passages, and an overwhelming peace came over me as I read them.
Deuteronomy 20: 1-4 : When thou goest out to battle against thine enemies [cancer], and seest [needles, nausea, fatigue, infection, deadly chemicals, pounding heart], be not afraid of them: for the Lord thy God is with thee. … And it shall be, when ye are come nigh unto the battle … let not your heart faint, fear not, and do not tremble, neither be ye terrified … for the Lord your God is he that goeth with you, to fight for you against your enemies, to save you.
Deuteronomy 31: 6,8 : Be strong and of good courage, fear not … for the Lord thy God, he it is that doth go with the; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.
As I was reading these scriptures, the song “How Firm a Foundation” came into my head. It’s never been one of my favorite hymns, but I decided to look it up and read the words. When I read verses 3-7, I was brought to tears by the spirit I felt and I knew that God was speaking directly to me.
Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.
I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by my righteous omnipotent hand.
When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of sorrow shall not thee o’erflow,
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.
When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply
The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.
The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose
I will not, I cannot, desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake!
Remembering that God is with me, watching over me and protecting me, will give me the strength and courage I need to get through these next few months of chemo, surgery, and radiation. Courage is God’s, and he lends it to us if we put our lives in his hands and trust that he will take care of us.
Now everyone knows what a wimp I am! Okay, maybe not a wimp… I am just “tender-hearted.” But thank goodness for God's courage.
With each chemo treatment, it’s gotten more and more difficult to recover from the side effects. It’s a bit terrifying to watch and feel my body react to the deadly chemicals that are running through it. The nausea is constant, and even though I try to eat enough to give my body the nutrients it needs to rebuild, I can’t. My heart pounds for nine days straight, trying to deliver oxygen to my body with a fraction of my usual red blood cells. I have a sore throat and mouth sores, and my skin color alternates between pale yellow and green. I have no energy, and I can relate to the toys on the floor with generic drained batteries that strain to function and sound demon-possessed when they try to speak. The drug they give me to rebuild my blood-counts causes bone pain, and I feel pain in places I didn’t know it was possible to have pain. I have phlebitis in my left arm because apparently my veins don’t like poison. And so I lie awake at night, wondering how much more my body can take.
So through all this, I have discovered that I am not brave. If I was, I would face my trials head-on with a smile, or at least with a firm scowl of determination. Instead, I have been whimpering every time I feel pain, and breaking down into tears every time I think about my next chemo treatment and all the ones to follow. At times I am more afraid of the treatment for cancer than the cancer itself. I feel like a terrified, sobbing child who has just been informed they’ll be going to the doctor for a shot, who is inconsolable even after the parent reassures them that the shot will only hurt for a little bit and will keep them from getting sick. Yep, I’m a wimp.
So after I broke down in tears for the millionth time yesterday (because my arm was hurting from the phlebitis), I knelt down and asked God for strength, to help me be brave and face all that I have to go through with courage. When I finished praying, I went to the scriptures to learn how to be more brave. I found my answer in the following passages, and an overwhelming peace came over me as I read them.
Deuteronomy 20: 1-4 : When thou goest out to battle against thine enemies [cancer], and seest [needles, nausea, fatigue, infection, deadly chemicals, pounding heart], be not afraid of them: for the Lord thy God is with thee. … And it shall be, when ye are come nigh unto the battle … let not your heart faint, fear not, and do not tremble, neither be ye terrified … for the Lord your God is he that goeth with you, to fight for you against your enemies, to save you.
Deuteronomy 31: 6,8 : Be strong and of good courage, fear not … for the Lord thy God, he it is that doth go with the; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.
As I was reading these scriptures, the song “How Firm a Foundation” came into my head. It’s never been one of my favorite hymns, but I decided to look it up and read the words. When I read verses 3-7, I was brought to tears by the spirit I felt and I knew that God was speaking directly to me.
Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.
I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by my righteous omnipotent hand.
When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of sorrow shall not thee o’erflow,
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.
When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply
The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.
The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose
I will not, I cannot, desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake!
Remembering that God is with me, watching over me and protecting me, will give me the strength and courage I need to get through these next few months of chemo, surgery, and radiation. Courage is God’s, and he lends it to us if we put our lives in his hands and trust that he will take care of us.
Now everyone knows what a wimp I am! Okay, maybe not a wimp… I am just “tender-hearted.” But thank goodness for God's courage.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)