Let me ‘splain something to you

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I have never, ever in my whole entire life been able to sell something. I could not sell a glass of water to a rich man who had been wandering lost in the desert. I could not sell a blanket to a wealthy family in a snowstorm with a baby. I could not sell the cure for cancer if I happened across it. Nope. Nada. It’s just not me.

This stems from my inability to take things from people. Can’t do that either. Not even help. I am not sure why this is. Perhaps it has to do with my deep seated feelings of unworthiness. Or perhaps it is simply that I have a servant personality. Those rich people who are dying of thirst or freezing? You’d better believe I’d supply them with water and blankets, but I’d GIVE them to them, not sell them.

Nevertheless, a couple of factors have converged in my life. One of them is financial anxiety. I have been receiving California State Disability while getting cancer treatments, which has been fine. But it will run out in just a couple of months now, well before my cancer treatments are finished. I will have at least two more months of chemotherapy and radiation treatments after the disability runs out. Then I will have to wait four to five months and will have to have a major surgery. It is reconstructive surgery, but without going into gory details, at this point it is not elective. I have complications from the mastectomy that are going to have to be taken care of. I wasn’t working when I was diagnosed with cancer, so I don’t have a job to go back to, and I can’t imagine finding a new job right after treatment with a fairly lengthy leave needed within just a few months. In addition, there are other things going on in my life, places where at this moment my attention is needed, enough that it would make holding down a full-time job difficult.

So what to do??? I am thinking at this point of retiring, getting social security. That would not be enough money to live on, however. The nice thing about social security, as opposed to disability, is that you are allowed to earn money to supplement your income, and there are a few possible avenues. I could do free-lance paralegal work for local attorneys, but that is not likely to produce a steady stream of income. Hey, I could finish those books I have been working on! I could even self publish for practically no money, and maybe a few people would buy one. This has been my main plan for awhile. Or perhaps I could become a Walmart greeter like so many other social security recipients.

But no, please, don’t make me become a Walmart greeter!

So into this life of mine comes something new. doTERRA. I have a friend, Erika, another cancer patient, who was a doTERRA Wellness Consultant. I also have another friend who had told me about her sister, who’d had Stage IV Breast Cancer (Stage IV is considered incurable) who had become cancer free even though she had not been able to complete chemo due to side effects. She used a few supplements, including several from doTERRA, and swore by the doTERRA Frankincense oil that she put on the sole of her feet every night. So I asked Erika about the products. Now the retail price of some of these things is more than I can afford, so Erika suggested that I could become a Wellness Consultant myself. That way I could buy things at wholesale prices, and also receive points back from my purchases, which I could use to get other products.

So that’s what I did.

I have really enjoyed the doTERRA products. I have diffusers around the house, and I have had oils in them most of every day. Some I choose just because I like the smell, and some for the purpose of improving my life. I’d had a nasty chest cold and cough for awhile when I first received my doTERRA shipment. The cough had me up numerous times during the night, and not even the codeine syrup my doctor prescribed could stop it. That night I put the Frankincense on my feet, and I put the doTERRA Breathe blend in the diffuser in my bedroom, and a little bit on my chest. I laid down and just felt so peaceful as I drifted off to sleep. That was the first full night of sleep I’d had in several weeks!

I have really enjoyed learning about the doTERRA products. I know people in MLM schemes where the entire focus seems to be on the MLM scheme rather than on the products. Not so with doTERRA. The products are great. I have tried a lot of the products and look forward to trying more in the future. The doTERRA group I belong to has a Facebook page on which education videos are posted pretty much daily. None of these are about sales and recruiting. They are all about the essential oils, or on various needs people face and how to meet them with the oils.

At any rate, if I make money at this it will be amazing. It will be a miracle! But it is something I can try to do. At the very least I am getting benefits from the products, and that is also something I can share with family and friends.

If you are interested in doTERRA products, I invite you to visit my website, at www.mydoterra.com/sharonmurch. Spend some time learning about essential oils, and the company. In the upper right hand corner, there are three lines. If you click on those three lines, it will allow you to access links where you can shop, or look into joining doTERRA. At the bottom of the page is a link to the product catalog, which has a lot of information on the products, and the wholesale as well as retail prices of them all. And if you happen to be local to the Castro Valley area, send me a message or an email and perhaps we can meet up. I am happy to share with you what I have and what I know, and to give you some free samples. I don’t have anything on me to sell right now, so if you wanted to buy something I’d have to order it. But you know me: I love to give stuff away.

Thanks so much for reading this, which I hope doesn’t sound too much like a pitiful cross between a sales pitch and a plea for help. But in with that, it’s an offer, too, for some great products which I absolutely believe will benefit your life and the lives of those you love.

Foolishness, Wisdom, Love

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It is Sunday morning, and I am not going to church today, because my white blood cell count is down, and I am not brave like my friend Erika who puts on a surgical mask and gets out there in the world. Of course, Erika looks pretty adorable in her mask, and I just look kind of scary. Seriously, what do you think when you see a person wearing a mask? “I wonder what sort of terrible disease that person has?” And this, of course, brings up another question, which is why can’t I get over this concern over what other people think of me???

Anyway, since I am not going to church, I thought I’d write a Stumbling Scripture Studies blog, since I’ve had a thought or two, perhaps even interesting, that is shareable. And as always, please don’t think I write these blogs just to tell you what I think, or what you should think. I am very interested in your pertinent, nice and creative perspectives. And your prayers. These Stumbling Scripture Studies, at least at this point, are a record of my own struggles in this journey.

The Bible reading track I am on is currently in 1 Corinthians chapters 2 and 3. These chapters have really captured the essence of my problem, which is the wisdom of this world coming up against the foolishness of the message of the gospel. Hey, that’s not my assessment. That is Paul’s. Time and again in these chapters, Paul states that the things of God are foolishness to the natural man, and that “If anyone among you seems to be wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise. For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God.” (1 Cor 3:18-19)

The point where I am in my faith is that I have resolved that I have been called to it, and that I am going to return to it however many times I run away. But it seems impossible for me to read the Bible or study my faith without looking at it through the  lens of the skeptic’s glasses. When I read this stuff about the wisdom of the world and the foolishness of God, half of me says, oh, aha, that is my problem, while the other half of me says, maybe this is because it really is foolishness. I can actually lay out that argument far more easily than the argument for faith’s wisdom. There is no argument for it. It is impossible to “witness for” the faith. When I read the scripts laid out for this purpose, it makes me cringe.

Faith, to me, is purely experiential. It can’t be argued, it can’t be taught. It has to be experienced. There have been enough times in my life that God has spoken to me, has acted in my life, that I have to open that door to him. But I think this is something anyone needs to experience for themselves. “Witnessing?” This is the only thing that I have ever been able to say to anyone that has made any sense: ask God to reveal himself to you. Say, “God if you are real, show me.” I used to say this with absolute certainty that God would do just that if given an opportunity. I still believe that. But in the many, many, many years since I first became a Christian (44 years to be precise), I have learned that resistance to the voice of God is deep.

Paul gives us a promise, however. He tells us that if we get over our wise old selves and allow ourselves to be fools, that the deep wisdom of God will be revealed to us. And I want that deep wisdom. I long for that deep wisdom. So let me be a fool.

If I should be wrong, and God doesn’t exist, and Christianity is just foolishness, what harm will be done if I am a fool? NONE. This is not to say that harm isn’t done in this world in the name of Christianity. It most certainly has been done, from early days through our own times. In this country today, the marriage between Christianity and the political right has been a spiritual disaster. It has bred a hate and intolerance that is completely out of step with what Jesus taught. It has bred a lack of caring for the needy among us that is purely Pharasaical, and which has been condemned by the Bible from start to finish. The Old Testament laws looked out for the poor, instructing landowners not to glean all from their fields, but to leave some for the poor among them to use. The early chapters of Isaiah may talk about the judgment on Israel for being unfaithful to God, but over and over again it talks about the greed of Israel and its lack of care for the poor. Isaiah says:

Wash yourselves, make yourselves clean; put away the evil of your doings from before my eyes. Cease to do evil. Learn to do good. Seek justice, rebuke the oppressor, defend the fatherless, plead for the widow.

Jesus, when he lived on this earth, did not hang out with the rich. He did not fulfill what the Jews of the time wanted, which was to overthrow the Roman government and restore the glory of the Kingdom of Israel on earth. He came and cared for the poor and the sick. He had compassion on those who were hungry and fed them, and on those who were sick and healed them. He taught us that the greatest commandment is that we love God with all our hearts, and second only to that is that we love one another. He gave us a very specific picture of what this means in Matthew 25: 34-46:

Then the King will say to those on his right hand, “Come you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink; I was a stranger and you took me in; I was naked and you clothed me; I was sick and you visited me; I was in prison and you came to me.”

Then the righteous will answer him, saying, “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and take you in, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you sick, or in prison, and come to you?” And the King will answer, “Assuredly I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.” 

Then he will also say to those on the left hand, “Depart from me, you cursed, into the everlasting fire prepared for the evil and his angels, for I was hungry and you gave me no food; I was thirsty and you gave me no drink; I was a stranger and you did not take me in, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.”

Then they will also answer him, saying, “Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty, or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?” Then he will answer them saying, “Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.” And these will go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.

As far as I can see, the right wing agenda falls squarely on the left hand, and it has given the world a bad taste for Christians and Christ. But this is not who Jesus was. Many of us want to hide our faith because of this perception, but we can’t. As a recent article in Sojourner magazine put it, “We must learn how to ‘come out’ as Christians.” We need to show people that we live the love that Jesus taught. It is not up to us to judge the world. If we have faith, we should be absolutely assured of God’s ability to communicate to each individual what he wants for them in their own lives. If we have faith, we should not fear that we don’t have enough to share. If Jesus could feed 5,000 people with a few fish and loaves of bread, surely we could take in some refugees!

I have a long, long way to go to meet the standards of love that Jesus taught. I need to get off my duff and do it instead of just talking about it. Following Christ without reservation can only foster that in my life, and hopefully let others know that God really does love them. It will help me to become a mature believer to whom the deep things of God may be revealed. If I am a fool, well I will be a fool who has led a better life, and been a better person, for traveling the road I have chosen, or which has chosen me.

Midway through second chemo cycle

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Well, this second chemo cycle has definitely been more “exciting” than the first. I had quite a few more symptoms, including a fluttering in the chest, which ended up with me having to get an EKG and possibly having to wear a halter monitor at some point. It was almost constant the first few days after chemo but has gradually decreased to where I don’t have it at all now. At one point my home blood pressure monitor told me I had an irregular heartbeat, but the doctor said that it is likely harmless, that the dangerous irregular heartbeats are generally accompanied by a feeling of light headedness or faintness. I guess we will see in the next cycle what happens.

A couple of my family members, who I live with, got sick during this cycle as well. You all know my germophobia, which has been exacerbated by all the warnings about avoiding infections during chemo. So I have been worried. I don’t think you can live with someone who is sick and not be exposed. Generally the period of contagion starts the day before any symptoms even show themselves. I was also less concerned because my last white blood cell count had been 13.7, which is higher than normal. My labs this week, however, showed it had plummeted to 2.9, which is below normal.

This has honestly been the hardest part of chemo for me. Because I am already a germophobe and self conscious about it, I feel awkward. Asking other people to be aware of not just my idea of what I need, but my doctor’s assessments of what I need, often feels like I am inconveniencing them. It is awkward to say, “You are sick, so blah blah blah,” or “Please stay away from sick people,” or “Wash your hands and use hand sanitizer.” I feel as though it comes off like a part of my pre-existing phobia, when in reality it is not.

Even I don’t take it seriously enough. After my lab appointment this week I went to Target, where it seemed everybody was coughing and hacking. I guess this is Spring Flu Round Two. I hate it. I spent a lot of time holding my breath, avoiding people, and pulled my shirt up over my face a time or two. But I had medical masks in my bag, and I should have just put one on. I have been talking to a young woman in her 20’s who is currently receiving chemo for Hodgkins, and she has put me to shame, because she is actually wearing those masks when she goes out! I mean, what is wrong with me?

Well, in my defense, I also wear glasses, and when I put on a surgical mask it makes my glasses fog up. I bend, push, shove around, but still the glasses fog. Anybody have a solution for this? Any medical people out there who wear glasses?

Here is a funny story, though. I have been washing, sanitizing, and using gloves when I do things like change my grandson’s diapers, like I am supposed to. So the other morning I was babysitting, and he had made quite a mess with is breakfast, so I decided to just take him straight to a bath. I filled the sink, took him out of his high chair, then held him over the garbage can and released the diaper into it. When I did that he laughed, which should have been my first clue that something was wrong. So a minute later, there he is, in the sink, and I see things floating in the water, and I think, that doesn’t look like cereal. Turns out the diaper I’d popped off him had been poopy! So there I am, up to my elbows in poopy water. I scooped his wet self up, let the water out of the sink, cleaned it briefly with disinfectant, rinsed it, then put him back in and filled it with water and bubble bath. So much for my sterile techniques! And yes, afterwards I did bleach the sink out, along with all toys and washcloths that had been in it! And somehow I seem to have survived.

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So I have got to resolve to start taking better care of myself. And that includes diet. My diet before chemo was really good! But since chemo started it has gone all bad. Of course, I was told that I was not supposed to eat raw vegetables. I used to eat a variety of vegan sandwiches, but honestly eating them without vegetables made me gag. There are many vegan foods I used to like that suddenly I just couldn’t stomach. So I have been off my vegan diet, and I have been making pretty unhealthy food choices I must admit. I have had wild cravings for carbs for one thing.

This could be due to the crazy things being done to my blood sugar associated with the chemo. I take steroids for four days after every chemo infusion, and because steroids are known to raise blood sugar, the medication I was taking for diabetes was increased. I was even told that I might have to go on insulin. As it turns out, the effect on my blood sugar has been minimal. It goes up modestly after the steroids, but goes right back down. Meanwhile, I am continuing to take the increased medication, and given that my A1C before the increase was 5.9, I am not sure I needed it. I am perhaps happy to have it right now, because even eating all the carbs I am, my blood sugar is not reacting badly. But could it be why I am having the cravings in the first place?

Who knows? My body is under attack from many sides right now, so who knows which attack is doing what? But I don’t need to be adding to the assaults. I need to treat it gently, to give it all the good things it needs and to protect it from the bad.

Mentally, I have resolved to do the one thing that I have deliberately not done, and that is ask my doctor for a prognosis. On the one hand, after surgery and the PET scan, I told myself that I was cancer-free and all I had to do was mop up with chemo and radiation and then I’d be fine. But I was reading a breast cancer forum the other day, and at the end of each entry is a blurb about the person who wrote it, giving the date of diagnosis, the type of breast cancer, stage, treatment types and dates. I couldn’t help but notice the number of people who ended up with Stage 4 cancer after surgery, chemo, and radiation. As one woman put it:

Last treatment! All done.

Oops, never mind. Mets on liver.

My main concern just continues to be how I will get on with my life after this. I don’t have a job. My state disability will run out before my treatments are finished. I have a little bit of money to get me by for awhile, but not forever. I am wishing I could find a way to be self employed, something I could do sick or well, when white blood cells are high or low, while I am recovering from reconstructive surgery that I hope to have down the road, or even if I should need more treatment in the future. I don’t know if I will even be able to get a job! I know that you are not required to tell a prospective employer that you have just finished treatment for cancer, but I am too honest not to when they ask what I have been doing these last months when I haven’t been working. I’m praying really hard about this! I still have a family to help take care of!

For now I am hanging out in my room, reading, writing, snuggling my little dogs, bandana on my head and a mask on my bedside table, trying to focus on today and not to worry about tomorrow.

This is me without hair 😊

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Thank you all for your Facebook comments and messages trying to help me decide what to do with my hair. I made a decision, and what you said actually had an influence on me.

One friend said that she knew whatever decision I made, I would be fine with it, because I am such a positive person. Well, I knew that of all possible worlds, there was one thing I was not feeling positive about, and that was the ugly hair falling out all over the place! I figured if I cut it all off I would find a way to be fine with that, but I was never, ever going to be fine with this nasty mess.

Another friend sent me a message from someone she knew who had been through cancer treatments. She said, “Take your own hair before cancer takes it.” She suggested a party with wine, but I just had a few moments with my daughter in the bathroom, and coffee!

One other thing that influenced me was when I looked at this blog and saw the photos of just what my hair looked like. It was not attractive. It made me look unhealthy, and whether I am or not we don’t need to emphasize that.

But probably the thing that motivated me most was when I looked at my pillow from last night, and it looked like it had grown a fur coat. That was just disgusting. And this morning when I was babysitting my grandson, when I’d hold him up on my shoulder I was afraid he would be inhaling all these flying hairs. So anyway, it’s gone. It was a full on shock when I saw myself for the first time. I looked like a man, for one thing. And not a young sexy one at that! But it feels good. It feels good not to have to worry about the hair falling out, and it feels good to get on to the new phase and start experimenting with scarves and the like. And Lori’s friend was right, it felt empowering, to take back at least one thing from cancer.

So you aren’t likely to see me wandering around with a bald head, but here it is, this one time, in all its glory.

I have received a number of special little gifts during this ordeal, but one of my favorites is a bracelet from my daughter Libby, which is pictured at the top of this blog. I have tried to take photos of the whole thing, but because of its size and shape I haven’t been able to.  So I will just tell you what it says:

What Cancer Cannot Do … cripple love . shatter hope . corrode faith . suppress memories . silence courage . steal eternal life . conquer the spirit . kill friendship . destroy peace . invade the soul

IMG_0016So now there is one more thing I can add to the list of what cancer cannot do. It cannot make my hair fall out! I

Love you guys, and really, thank you for everything.

And by the by, this is me. 😊

Hair Loss: when to shave?

I am beginning to lose my hair from the chemo, and it is a disconcerting and confusing process. I didn’t have all that much hair to begin with. It has always been both thin and fine, and I cut it short in anticipation of hair loss. So the process is probably a lot quicker for me than it is for others. But it’s still just, well, creepy.

Washing my hair is creepy. The feeling of the little bit of hair is creepy, like a mat on my head or something. And so much of it comes out. It sticks to my hands and clogs the bathtub drain. I don’t do much of anything else with my hair these days. No brushing, try not to touch it. It doesn’t come out in clumps, though. It falls out in wisps, little light wisps. This is fine except that they sometimes like to get into my eyes, or worse, my mouth. The other thing is that is sometimes hurts. I have had a couple of areas on my scalp that just became very sensitive for awhile. I’d been horrified that I might be getting sores or something, but my daughter checked and said no.

I am sorely tempted to shave it all off, just to get it over with. I told myself I would do it when I started getting bald spots. I don’t have big, clumpy spots now, but there are definite areas where the hair seems to be missing. It looks unhealthy. I have thought about putting a hat or scarf over it, but I am afraid the hair will get all over my nice hats and scarves and ruin them.

I really hate the idea of shaving it off. It feels contrived or phony somehow. I have become kind of sensitive to making it obvious when I’m out in public that I have cancer. I spent years having strangers stop me in the store to tell me how sorry they were that my daughter had been kidnapped. I don’t look forward to pitying looks or comments now.

Anyway, feel free to cast your vote if you have one!

Breast Cancer Journey: Don’t be afraid. You can do it.

15823276_1149299361835724_1780175567423913694_nWell it is Wednesday, and time to start preparing for my second chemo infusion. That, to me, means some basic germ eradication in obvious places, washing and changing my bedding, and the dogs’ bedding, which lives on my bed, and doing some grocery shopping before my white blood cell count is up for eradication again.

It turns out none of these precautions were necessary for my first chemo cycle. I amazed my doctor with how well I did. I am not sure if it is because I did so well, or because he expected me to do badly because of the trouble I had getting rid of my drain. When I went in to see him on Day 7, he looked at my blood work and said, “This is from today? You had chemo?” My white blood cell count was 4.9 at that time, normal being 3.5 to 10, and chemo patients getting as low as 0. I was told that I would probably know if my count started getting low, because it makes you very tired, sometimes achey, kind of feeling like you have the flu. That is a very smart design feature, I think, that when you are most vulnerable to illness, you will not feel like doing things that will expose you to it.

Above is a Neulasta On Pro. This is attached to your abdomen or upper arm the day of chemo, and is programmed to inject medication 27 hours later to help boost your white blood cell production. It has flashing lights and beeps and clicks when it injects, and is very entertaining for grandchildren. 🙂

The nausea that everyone dreads when they are told they will have chemo is pretty well controlled these days with medication. You get two anti-nausea meds by IV before they even start the chemo, and there are three additional take at home meds, one for every day in the cycle, one for daily use in the first few days after chemo, and one for as needed. I never did use the third one. My nausea  was mild and seemed to be directly related to food. The thought of eating most things made me nauseous. I kind of lived on toast and cereal for a few days. The vegan options I had made me nauseous to consider, by the way. I have to admit that by the fifth day my little vegan heart was craving chicken. I thought I would die if I didn’t have chicken and rice. So I did.

I also left my self imposed exile. As the days went on, I got to feeling better and better. In the first few days, I was a bit tired and needed to nap frequently, although on Day 4, I babysat my 15-month old grandson all day, and not only did I not get tired, it made me feel terrific. I’d stuck my head out into the world at the grocery store and it appeared that the recent late flu epidemic was subsiding, so on Sunday I actually gathered my courage together and went to church.

I was told by the nurse that administered my chemo that the first treatment is usually not so bad, that it is usually around the third treatment that you start to feel it, just because the assault on your system has worn you down. That’s also when you usually lose your hair. So we will see as we go on, but for the time being, it’s okay.

I am also ten weeks post mastectomy at this point, and honestly, that wasn’t all that bad either. The post-op pain I would classify more as discomfort than actual pain. The drains were an ordeal, and I kept mine for a record amount of time, but they were not painful. They were just annoying. The incisions have healed, although the scars are still pink, but I can look at the surgery site without it bothering me at all. In fact, if I’d had a double mastectomy, I probably could have lived without reconstructive surgery. Since it was unilateral, I will choose to go through that, although it sounds like the worst and most complicated part of the whole treatment.

I wanted to pass this message along for anyone else who might be newly diagnosed with breast cancer and facing any or all of these treatments. I subscribe to a couple of other breast cancer survivor blogs, and one is just full of woe. Absolutely everything she has been through has been intolerably painful, from the mastectomy to the chemo to the expanders in preparation for reconstructive surgery. She even said that the drains were so painful that every movement hurt. I can’t tell you how glad I am that I didn’t read that blog before my own mastectomy experience. It might make a difference that my plastic surgeon is excellent when it comes to pain mitigation. He is David Chang in San Francisco if ever you want any plastic surgery done. When he places an expander, he puts a shot of botulism into the muscle so it won’t spasm and cause pain. When I had my surgery, he administered a three-day local anesthetic. Now I took pain pills after my mastectomy, but you have to understand I do not have a high pain tolerance. In fact I have zero tolerance for discomfort. If I get a teeny tiny pain somewhere, I get out the motrin. So I medicated my post-op discomfort, but I don’t recall ever at any time being laid out by pain.

But here is another odd thing about me. This cancer this is not bothering me. I am not scared. I am not sad. I can’t really tell you why. I do have the most amazing skills in denial of pain, honed over 28 years of living as the parent of a kidnapped child. Perhaps it is nothing more than that. Pain? Block it out. But I don’t think it is. Is it my faith? Mmm, in a very general way that is a huge part of it I think. It’s almost as though I recognized cancer when it came along. “Oh hello. I was expecting you without even being aware of it. You and I have something to do together, don’t we?” It is also true that I am confident of my recovery, at least at this point in time. I have been told that my cancer is “very bad.” It is Stage 3C, the worst you can get before it is deemed uncurable. But at this point, it has all been removed. There were good margins in the surgery, and the PET scan was clear, so any cancer that is lurking in my body is small, cellular. I am confident that the chemo and radiation will eradicate it and I will go on to live another day, to walk down new roads and pass through secret gates I have previously passed by. I also kind of suspect that this cancer might one day kill me, either the breast cancer itself or a secondary cancer as a result of the treatment for the breast cancer. But I don’t expect that will be for awhile yet, and I’m not all that young, so I am not worried about it. I just want to make sure that I do not waste the time I am given.

The other thing is that I honestly don’t think that I am afraid of dying. I think part of that is denial as well. What can’t be cured must be endured, and you might as well do it with a good attitude. That’s how I have lived my life, and it will probably be how I end it as well. Plus I tend to think of death as a great adventure! I have my faith, my beliefs, but even if I am wrong I am not afraid of it. Even if the atheists and humanists turn out to be right and my heart and soul are nothing but biology that cease to exist at death, I won’t know. I won’t care. The only thing that has bothered me is worrying about my family. I don’t want anybody to hurt. I want to make sure everyone has what they need to get through, and to live a happy life. But I have learned that all of that is not really up to me. It’s been part of my life task in recent years to let go of my desire to advise and control circumstances in order to protect my children. I have learned to say, “They will be okay.” And they will be, no matter what. Even if they have some mountains to climb and rivers to swim, they will do it, and they will be okay, and they will be all the stronger for it.

I don’t want to make light of things. I know cancer can be a horrendous disease. I have been reading a book about man with cancer that metastasized, who underwent treatments that were so painful that he could not complete them. His cancer spread to his bones, which as a result broke when he sat on them. And my thought was, if you have to have cancer, breast cancer is much easier. They can just cut the things off. Unless you are planning on having babies, their only function is decorative, and current health law mandates that their decorative function be restored. But even breast cancer and breast cancer treatments can lay people low, I know. I may be one of them yet. I am in week two of twenty weeks of chemo. I should keep quiet until week ten, and then tell you how easy it is or isn’t. But meanwhile, I just wanted to encourage those who are starting out on this journey. Don’t be afraid. You can do it.

Stumbling Scripture Studies: How to have faith

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I am currently in a discipleship program which includes doing daily Bible reading, and then writing about it in a SOAP format: Scripture, Observation, Application and Prayer. You pick a specific verse out of that day’s readings, write it down, write a little about your observations of this scripture, how it applies to your life, and then a prayer based on this scripture. These are supposed to be short, like a line or two, less than a page total, but of course mine go on and on and on. In fact, I often have trouble sticking to just a single verse, and instead write about the whole chapter or several verses. I often feel that God is speaking to me here, telling me things of value to me. I thought that sometimes I would share them, in case they might be of value to anyone else.

Today’s New Testament reading was John 12. This chapter occurs right after Jesus raised his friend Lazarus from the dead, and takes place in the same location. In John 11, I was struck by the reaction of the Pharisees to this miracle. “What shall we do? For this man works many signs. If we let him alone like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and take away both our place and nation.” (vv 47-48) I marveled at this reaction. This man resurrects someone who had been dead for four days, and it doesn’t occur to you that he may be more powerful than the Romans? But then I thought, well, they were right in a way. Jesus didn’t overpower the Roman Empire. He died. Jerusalem fell.

Chapter 12 continues to deal with this issue. Jesus was speaking about his coming death, but “The people answered him, ‘We have heard that the Christ remains forever, and how can you say the Son of Man must be lifted up?'” (v 34)

Paul says in 1 Corinthians 15:19 says, “If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men the most pitiable.” Hmmm. This was absolutely true for those first century Christians. These were the people who walked with Jesus, who sat at his feet when he taught, witnessed his miracles, watched him die, saw him after his resurrection. They suffered persecution, floggings, and imprisonment, and every single one of them suffered horrific deaths for his faith. This, of course, is one of the arguments for the truth of Christianity. These were the eyewitnesses. You might stretch the truth to have a good time, but would you endure persecution for it? Would you die for it?

Others, though, “the people,” they still had expectations in their minds of who and what the Christ was to be and do. They tried to put Jesus into that pre-made box and he didn’t fit all that well. They wanted a political savior who woud free them from Roman rule and restore the glory of the kingdom on earth as it had been under David and Solomon. So Jesus posed difficulties. They were the original believers in the prosperity gospel. They were not prepared to accept the suffering Messiah of Isaih 53. They were not prepared to suffer themselves for a kingdom they could not see.

Except that they had seen it. They were right there in the very place where Jesus had raised a man who had been dead for four days! How could they not believe, having seen that kind of evidence? Yet they didn’t. We might think that they are without excuse because of what they had seen, while we get a bit more slack because we didn’t witness this. But God still works. I know that I have felt God’s presence, have heard him speak to me, have seen him at work in the events in my life and the lives of those around me. I can say that those who witnesses Jesus’ miracles are without excuse, but am I not also, if I have once heard his voice? “Did I really hear that?” “Was Lazarus really dead?”

What got to me most, though, was another group of people mentioned in John 12: “Even among the rulers many believed in him, but because of the Pharisees they did not confess him, lest they should be put out of the synagogue, for they loved the praise of men more than the praise of God.” (vv 42-43) Now again, they had just witnessed Jesus raising a man who had been dead for four days! They are way without excuse, right? I mean, if I was there, I would have believed. I would have confessed! Right?

I have to admit, in my struggles with faith, this has actually been one of my problems. I love the praise of men. And women. As in, I want to be lovedand respected even. Now this is actually true for people inside the church as much as the people outside. The thing is that most of the people who love me are outside the church, as in far outside. Their attitudes toward Christianity generally range from complete disinterest to complete disdain. Yes, this is my family, and most of the people in my circle within the community. I will admit that when I hear sermons, I frequently imagine them sitting next to me rolling their eyes, or saying, “oh my God,” and not in prayer! I hear their derision ringing in my ears.

And the thing is, I get it. I have thought all of those thoughts. I can’t even say from an intellectual standpoint, “You are wrong.” Apologetics is never going to prove anything to anyone. I know because it has never proven anything to me. You have to have faith to get it. Faith is a gift from God, and when you say “no thank you,” you just are never going to get it. 1 Corinthians says, “The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.” (v 18) The Jews require a sign and the Greeks seek after wisdom, and the cross is nothing to them, “but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ (is) the power of God and the wisdom of God.” (If you are reading this and you are wondering, you are called. Maybe this is your call. Just say yes and see what happens.)

This is the whole key, I think. In the last couple of weeks I have come to see it as the answer to everything, that last paragraph. It is not an easy answer to accept, and yet it is also the easiest answer of all. Well, one thing for sure is that I have been called. From the age of nine, raised in a completely non-religious family, I was seeking for this God who was calling to my heart. Since I found him, I have tried to get away, and I always get called back. It’s happened so many times now that I have decided to quit trying to escape and to try instead to hang on. It’s a bumpy road sometimes, but I am still here.

One other point, about Jesus’ kingdom not being of this world. That does leave us in a quandry if we require evidence. But are we really most pitiable? I don’t think so. I am a mystic at heart and I love to see the transformative power of God at work in my life, and in the lives of the people around me. Even when it’s hard. Even when it hurts. It is beautiful.

Father, thank you for calling me and keeping me. Let me walk the streets of your unseen kingdom in this world. Take my hand and guide me, show me where to go, where to look, as you prepare my heart for what you would have me do. And give me the strength and courage to do it. Thank you, Lord.

Amen.

Apology

I apologize to my blog followers, because this morning I was uploading photos from my phone to WordPress, and they somehow got published as a blog entry and sent to you guys. Not a technical wizard here. Sorry!

Thoughts after first day of chemo

IMG_1542They finally got me into that chair for my first day of chemo today. It wasn’t itself unpleasant. The people who work at Epic Care in Castro Valley are so nice, they of course made it easy. It took a long time, four hours total! I got very tired and could have slept through a lot of it, but my husband and daughter were with me so I pretty much stayed awake. My husband brought me an iced almond latte from Starbucks, which revived me slightly but still left me half in dreamland.

I came home and slept a nice, deep sleep for awhile, and woke up feeling pretty good. No big surprise since the first half of the chemo was devoted to pumping me full of stuff to make me feel good. I got one three-day anti-nausea medicine, one day’s worth of Zofran, another antinausea medicine which I will take in pill form after today, and a good dose of Decadron, a steroid that is supposed to prevent nausea and other side effects of chemo. Both my oncologist and my endocrinologist have told me that decadron is likely to raise my blood sugar, and that even though I have never taken it before, I might have to use insulin while doing chemo. I am sending my blood sugars to my endocrinologist daily so she can keep tabs on it.

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Big scary needles, happily going into IV and not directly into me.

I have been checking my blood sugar since I got home, and while it is higher than normal, it hasn’t become outrageous yet. But I haven’t eaten much either. I don’t really have much of an appetite right now anyway, at least not for healthy foods. The desire factor could cause me to eat all sorts of things that would be all bad, so maybe it’s a good thing I have to keep an eye on my blood sugar.

I am feeling a tiny bit better about the immune suppression factor since the chemo. The chemo tech was telling me it is best not to eat at salad bars, and I said that they told me not to eat salad at all. She said that is really only true when my white blood cell count is down. Now the tricky thing is figuring out when that is true, which is perhaps why there was just a blanket “no” to these things. They don’t make home white blood cell count test strips or anything! I get this checked once a week, and in between times I have no idea what my white blood cells are doing! The tech said that if my white blood cell count was going down I would know because I would start getting really tired. I said, “I think my white blood cell count is going down now.” This was me being funny of course, because I knew it was too early for that to be happening. But it was also me making a point. She said I’d know the difference, so we will wait and see. That would be a pretty clever built-in design mechanism, though, that if you are susceptibe to infection you become too tired to go out and get infected!

I also get spiffy meds to help keep my white blood cell count up. I have a little injection bot of Neulasta plastered to my abdomen right now. Neulasta: as featured in commercials on MSNBC if you are interested! Anyway, they stick it on you, and then after a short while it starts making warning beeps, and then it jabs you with a needle, which inserts a plastic tube in between itself and your lovely self. Then after 27 hours it spends 45 minutes injecting a small about of medication into you through that previously placed tube.

This medication induces your body to make additional white blood cells, which considerably reduces your chance of getting an infection during chemo. Common side effects of Neulasta include bone pain, especially in the lower back and hips, as the bone marrow there is working hard to make the white blood cells and it might gripe about it. Oh, and it can make your spleen explode. I learned that on MSNBC. (Why do they have those commercials for medications! They have to tell you every bad thing that could possibly happen, which leaves no one wanting to use any of these products ever!) But the chemo tech said that she has never heard of that happening to anyone in real life. Just the pain. Take Tylenol, she said. Take Percocet, she said, since I have some left over from my three surgeries, and they will be happy to refill it if needed. Well, we will see. Perhaps I won’t have the side effects, or perhaps they will be bearable.

But the point of this is to alleviate some of my paranoia about immune system deficiency. “Don’t put your fingers in your mouth,” she said. I had no idea how often I actually do that! She eased some of my concern when she made the comment that germs at home are less of a problem because my body already knows how to deal with those, because with four small dogs and one small child, my house is a germ festival I’m sure!

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I don’t think I could ever get used to the idea of going out like this.

I still have some anxiety though. I went out yesterday. I had two doctor’s appointments in two different offices. The receptionist (that I didn’t see thankfully) at one of the offices was coughin and hacking. I seriously thought, she should be wearing a mask. There are medically fragile people who visit doctor’s offices and they don’t need the receptionist making them sick. I got a pedicure, and I went to the grocery store, and in every location there were a number of people coughing and sniffling. It seems to be a second flu season! I came home and said I’m never leaving again! Well, okay, I decided if I have to go to the grocery store I am going early in the morning, when it’s less crowded and when the sick people haven’t been able to drag themselves out of bed yet.

 

One thing I have been missing is church. When my doctor told me to avoid crowded places, I’d asked specifically about church, and he said, “I can’t stop you from living your life, and church is important, but if it was up to me I’d really rather you stayed home.” 😦 😦 😦  Honestly, I have been avoiding it for awhile, first because I was going to have surgery, then because I was recovering from surgery. I actually only got rid of my drains and able to dress presentably last week, and I thought about going last week, and I thought about going this coming week, since my system will be so flush with white blood cell’s from Neulasta, but even a healthy immune system does not keep you from catching a virulent virus. So I am going to stay home until this disease that is making everybody cough has run its course and is out of here. Please someone let me know when flu season is over!

My faith has suffered some without church. I have decided to try to remedy that in part at least with video and audio teachings that are so available on my computer and phone. I have been reading the Bible every single dingle day, but it hasn’t always given me hope. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but early on I started thinking about the phrase, “There are no atheists in foxholes,” which meant that when it came down to putting your life on the line, people would choose to believe.

For me, it’s kind of been the opposite. There is so much on the line, I feel like I can’t afford to make a mistake, either one way or the other. With every fiber of my being I so want to be certain that there is some higher purpose in my life, that there is someone holding my hand while I walk down this path and guiding me to a safe place. For this to all be due to random chance, for me to be completely powerless and without someone greater on my side, that is scary. God hasn’t been exactly chatty and reassuring lately, but I just keep plodding on and when I can’t exactly believe, I continue to hope.

So that is it. Day One of chemotherapy. Day One of twenty weeks. The fun is just beginning.

Lots of feels

One of my blogs is about to disappear, and in the interest of saving it I am coping some of my previous posts into this blog. This post was from July 6, 2015.

It is 6:30 in the morning on my day off work, and I am here, awake. I have a lot of feelings inside me and I am sitting here with tears in my throat and in my eyes, longing just to be able to write my feelings down and push them off into the world. Like the words from the Anna Nalick song, “2 a.m. and I’m still awake, writing a song. If I get it all down on paper it’s no longer inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to.” But maybe I just really don’t have the courage. One day I swear I am going to write my novel so I can say all the things I cannot say, turn loose all the feelings inside of me.Half of the feelings I feel are vapors in the wind anyway.

As I sat here at my desk, I watched a cloud outside my window. For a moment it was the stunningly clear face of a pitbull terrier. But in seconds it morphed, first into a kitty, and then on to several indistinct stages on its way to becoming the blank cloudbank that it is at this moment. And that happens so often with problems. You have a dagger in the heart, but then it dissolves and is gone, unless you happened to put it into writing or other communication where it becomes immortalized, or kind of. For me, writing and getting things out is cathartic, but the problem is that when you get things outside yourself sometimes they take up residence in others, and become things totally other, and totally beyond your control at all. Things that are minor can come to define you.The other thing about writing is that often it helps me to figure out just exactly what it is that is hurting. Like right now.

The immediate cause of my distress is that my daughter, who is 18 weeks pregnant, was experiencing anxiety this morning at 4-something. I woke up. Presumably she has gone to sleep and I am still awake. This anxiety, this problem, will probably dissolve when the winds shift. But in me it stirs something far deeper. Whether large or small, my child is suffering, and I am powerless to alleviate the suffering. I can, and do, talk my head off in an attempt to fix things, but honestly sometimes I know that just makes it worse. That’s the other dangerous thing about words. For some reason the same words can mean completely different things to other people. She is anxious, so in an attempt to alleviate the anxiety, I employ the analytical mode, trying to explain why the problem is not quite as bad as it feels, and/or how to avoid problems in the future. This works well for me, but my daughter is in emotional mode, and she absorbs those words completely differently, internalizes them as criticism, which they are not intended to be.Emotions. Sometimes you just have to get control of them.

I remember in the second year after Michaela was kidnapped, I just felt angry, and it finally dawned on me that my anger was nothing more than sorrow that I had turned inside out and thrown outside myself because that was easier than feeling the sorrow. That was a big thing. But the same thing happens with the little things. We feel pierced by that dagger, which would probably dissolve in a minute, an hour, a day, unless we let that sorrow become anger and let it out into the world where it will inevitably cause more hurt. I personally have counted the cost and decided it is not worth it. That means I end up with a lot of feelings that get bottled up inside. Perhaps I need to find another means to transform and express them, through something more positive than getting angry. There are a lot of things that never ever get resolved, because I don’t speak of them. In the end I guess I don’t trust that they would get resolved if I did.

This child, the one whose anxiety woke me in the early hours today, was born five years after Michaela was kidnapped. One of my strong memories is from when she was a little baby, and she was crying. I picked her up and held her and said, “It’s okay. Mommy is here. Mommy will take care of you.” I was reassuring her from my heart with every intention of making everything right, of keeping her safe and protected and not letting anything hurt her. But in that moment I was flooded with the knowledge of the truth, that this was a lie. It was a promise I could not make. I had said the same sort of thing to Michaela, but in the end I had not been able to protect her. She suffered the most brutal fear, grief and pain, and there was not a single goddamned frickin thing I was able to do to prevent that, or to save her from it once she was in its clutches. I completely and totally failed her.

And I have completely and totally failed all my children. It hasn’t been as dramatic as it has been with Michaela. The daggers that have pierced them have been the kind that mostly dissolve in time. But they have all suffered grief and sorrow, and there is not anything I can do about it. I have made midnight trips to the grocery store for chocolate, taken them for manicures, sat and listened, hugged and cried. But the only way I could actually have prevented my children from being hurt was if I had taught them not to love. Jobs, money, those things all can cause stress, but only love can pierce the heart, and it can pierce deep and hard and leave shards that don’t ever completely go away. I know, because I have them myself.

My daughter and her husband, they are happy and excited about the baby they are having. But they have feelings inside them that perhaps they don’t even understand. Do they understand the huge vulnerability they are being drawn into? They are both smart kids, and they are both very self-aware, smart, imaginative and creative, so maybe they do. Or maybe it is just a vague sense of unease. I know that as they have thought about their child, they have been drawn to look back on their own childhoods. In doing so, they have encountered the things that hurt them. They think, they hope, that these things will be different for their child, that their son won’t encounter the cruelty of other kids, for example. But somewhere deep inside, as they consider their own hurts, they may be coming to realize that those things are going to hurt even more if they happen to their child than they did when they happened to them. I looked it up this morning, that quote that I just kind of know. I discovered it has a source, author Elizabeth Stone. It is, “Making the decision to have a child — it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”

Well, I guess I am kind of placing my own thing into other people’s minds here. I think it is valid to a point. But really it’s my own point. For me, it is magnified, because it triggers that deep sorrow of not being able to save Michaela from suffering. But the fact is, I can’t save any of my children. I can’t make any of them happy. I can’t protect any of them from hurt. I can just hope that they have the emotional wisdom to live well.

To you, Michaela, I just want to say that am so sorry that I was not able to protect you from harm, that I was not able to save you. Wherever you have been, whatever you have been through, I just hope that you have been able to feel always that love that is beyond life and death, there in your heart, forever.