Routine and Disappointments

I have had several people ask me about when I was going to write a new entry for the blog. I think that because my life is now so routine with chemo that I did not even think to write about it. It's not like it was before, everything happening so fast and learning new things at a quick rate. I think I used the blog to keep people informed of what was going on, and now that it is routine, I convinced myself that people would not be interested in this part of the journey. Perhaps I was mistaken.

Routine

I now am into the chemo regimen. Two weeks make one cycle of chemo. Monday of Week 1 of the cycle is FOLFOX. This is a long infusion (about 6 hours) and is the week I am hooked up to the 48-hour infusion of 5FU. I get my premeds on this day as well (Pepcid, Zofran, and Dexamethasone). I go back on Wednesday afternoon/evening to get unhooked from the chemo and get more fluids and premeds, about a 2-hour infusion. I go back on Friday just for fluids and premeds, about a 1-hour infusion. Monday of Week 2 of the cycle is Avastin. This is about a 3-hour infusion, maybe 3.5-4 hours (I lose track of time). I also get the fluids and premeds. Then I go back on Friday for fluids and premeds. I see Dr. Baltz every Monday before chemo for routine labs and for him to check in with me. That's pretty much my life.

Between infusions, I still go to work. Work provides me the pre-cancer routine part of my life that I really do need. I like to be busy, and work provides this as well as being around friends. Even though I may hold up in my office working, I know I can step outside the door and speak to a friend. That is priceless to me.

I seem to be having mostly neurological side effects rather than gastrointestinal ones. The neuropathy and cold sensitivity; the mouth issues; dropping everything; balance being a bit off; and my thinking. Oh my thinking! My thinking is sluggish. My memory is terrible. I am used to quickly accessing information from many sources and using them to make a decision, and now I am lucky if I remember to put on pants before leaving the house. And I'm losing my fingerprints. How wild is that!

Disappointment

My disappointment is with myself and my walk as a child of God. Before I knew I had cancer, God had been working with me on my sin of pride. To be honest, I have found that shame and pride go together, and I do feel much shame in this. But I promised to be real, so here goes.

Pride: a high or inordinate opinion of one's own dignity, importance, merit, or

superiority, whether as cherished in the mind or as displayed in bearing, conduct, etc.

Merriam Webster takes a nicer view of this, and I think that is an indicator of why pride is not seen as self-destructive as it is. Here are some of the definitions from MW:

• Reasonable self-esteem; confidence and satisfaction in oneself; self-respect

• Pleasure that comes from some relationship, association, achievement, or possession that is seen as a source of honor, respect, etc.

That all sounds good, but the problem is that anything that elevates man (self) and diminishes God is an idol, and I think that is exactly what I did, have done, (am doing?). God opened my eyes to so many areas in my life in which pride had taken root and grown.

I have been praying for God to show me what He wants me to learn, and my pride was right out the gate. I saw it in choir at GSFBC. I was proud to be part of the choir. I was proud when asked to wear a headset because that meant someone thought I sang well enough to do that. I was proud to be in The Kingdom. It was a high opinion of myself, elevating me above God. I would notice it in the middle of praise and worship and begin to pray immediately that God be glorified. I tried to sacrifice it, but I'm not sure I ever did. That is the sin of pride, and I had it bad.

I saw it in my preparation for the mission trip to Brazil that I had anticipated. I was proud to answer questions and be seen as a leader. I was proud when thinking of rail worship and what all that may entail. Once again, I was elevating self above God. When I realized that I had made the trip an idol, I prayed for God to take it and use it for His glory. I prayed for Him to help me see myself in relation to Him, that I am His vessel to be used as He chooses.

My friend, Adriana, confronted me about my pride being at the center of my reluctance to ask for help, especially during my cancer treatment. She was right. It was that high opinion of my own dignity coupled with wanting to pursue God's incommunicable attribute of self-reliance. Both of those, again, elevate me and diminish God, making my being able to "take care of myself" an idol, rather than relying on God. I think I had tricked myself into believing that I was relying on God and He was providing what I needed, thus causing me to be reluctant to ask others for help. I did ask others for help with things like getting something from the grocery store because I recognized that God was using them to meet my needs. However, my emotional needs were still my own. Carrying my own luggage was my own. Working just as hard as everyone else on the mission trip, or harder to prove I could do it and going was not a mistake, was my own.

So much pride.

As for the trip, God took that over. So many things I had looked forward to being in place were taken away. Those things that increased my pride were removed. I was given the gift of disappointment. I knew that God had taken over that trip, and I was so glad just to be a part of what He was doing. That was a step toward true humility. I knew I was just a vessel in God's hands. I prayed that He would use me as He saw fit, not as I saw fit. All the glory goes to Him.

As for choir, I sent Jon Skelley an email telling him that I had made the decision to step out of choir for a while. Part of that decision is my voice, although it seems to be better. Another part of that decision is scheduling and the Wednesdays that I am unattached from chemo. I will either miss or be late for choir practice every other week. That is not fair to the choir. Also, giving up choir may be God's way of focusing my attention on Him. Jadyn had confronted me about that several weeks ago when I was lamenting about my voice. He actually said, "Maybe you have made choir an idol, and God is wanting you to focus on Him." Thank you, Father, for such a wise son with whom I have the kind of relationship that made him comfortable in confronting me. He was right. It was my idol and playground for my pride. Both of those need to be sacrificed, at least for now.

Another area that I feel like I have been an epic failure is that it seems like my sanctification has derailed. I have failed trials of patience. It doesn't matter how I am physically; spiritually is a different story. I have cursed like a sailor and cried like a baby. I have been down, fatigued, exhausted. I am dealing with a skin infection due to chemo and other new side effects popping up. So, yes, I am compromised. But that is no excuse. I was a very poor reflection of my Father. Actually, I was not a reflection of Him at all.

The steroids have me feeling an emotional intensity that I am not used to. I respond to people in a way that is not patient or kind, and I realize that I have had expectations for people that are unfair. I have dear friends walking on eggshells because they fear my reaction. That is not good at all. That is not how I want to be at all. I know I have a powerful personality, but if that is not under God's control then I am the antithesis of I Corinthians 13. I am the noisy gong and clanging cymbal; I am nothing, and I gain nothing. Verse 5 says it best, "(Love) does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful." Yeah, that one stings because that is exactly how I have been--insisting on my own way, irritable, and resentful. My character was put through the fire, and I burned up. Where is my love? I could conveniently say that it's the chemo, but to be honest, it must be my character. The trial reveals the character, and I do not like what I see. I want to be loving at all times, even when I feel so bad.

So, there you have it--the good, the bad, and the ugly. I feel incredibly vulnerable by being so honest, but I think that is exactly what God intends for me to be. People need to see the worst in me so they can see the best of God in me. His mercy and grace are given because of who He is, not because of me. God blesses me because of who He is, not because I have earned it. All I have earned is eternal death, yet God provided a way for me to have eternal life through the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. He did this because of who He is, period.

Please pray for me as I stumble along this walk.