Monthly Archives: July 2013

July 8, 2013 · 8:08 pm

I am Protected

I am noticing the more my right hand progresses in numbness and the left in shakiness, the more clumsy I am getting. I constantly drop things like pens or silverware I am holding. Today I could not get a grip on the permanent marker I was attempting to write with and after a neat little hand stunt of marker flinging in circular motions, it landed on the table. I just had to laugh.

About an hour later, I am downstairs setting up my paints and canvas to finish a large painting that has been sitting in the basement half-finished for almost a year. (Yes, believe it.) My phone was in my pocket and I took it out to set it on the stool. I lost grip of it and it crashed to the cement floor. But it was protected…

When my Dad and I set out in February to seek a new phone for my upgrade, I had two options that were not flat Smart phone style with the touch screen. I can’t hold those, let alone use the touch screen with my fingers (especially now – even using the mouse pad on my laptop is getting extremely difficult.) I reasoned even then that sticking with the old-fashioned flip phone was the best choice. Because I drop my phone so often, Dad suggested getting a hard protection cover. Brilliant suggestion; the cement in the basement was no match for my phone cover!

Then I began to paint. Because I was painting a tall canvas, I knew that when I reached the bottom I would not be able to bend over and paint the way that I intended. I tried different ways to set it up, but ended with laying it flat on the table and working from the sides.

My sister had given me an apron specific for painters at Christmas. I always wear old clothes when painting and usually the apron. I forgot the apron today and with working from the sides of the painting, I started to get a fancy blue lined paint pattern on my shorts. Then I noticed my right hand had smeared in the paint on the board and left a huge print where there was not supposed to be any blueish-green color. Frustrated, but figuring it was a more abstract style of a painting anyway, I fixed it.

My thoughts have been on protection today. Maybe it started after yesterday’s experience of coming within about ten feet of hitting a deer about a quarter-mile from my house. Or last night when I came out of my room to get more water, I lost balance right next to the sofa and came within inches of hitting my head on the coffee table. Marcia and Mom were already in bed.

It is in these small moments, even to the monstrous health problems, that I see God’s protection. I am protected. There are still days to come but with this truth, I am living with an extra dose of gratitude.

Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him; I will protect him, because he knows my name. Psalm 91:14

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July 5, 2013 · 11:59 pm

The Next Chapter

Rainy days have strange effects on me. Some days it makes me groggy as I feel it in my body…especially my right hand. That was my yesterday. I even smashed my index finger that morning within the umbrella as I was closing it; I never felt a thing–just a small pinch but it was only when I looked down to see why the umbrella was not closing did I see my finger jammed.

Another rainy/cloudy day today, but completely opposite. Today was my motivation day. I went supply shopping: paints, paintbrushes, canvases and various add-ons for my upcoming paintings. Yellow Spring’s “Art on the Lawn” festival is only a month away. (More to come on that topic!)

Today I was focused on the broad spectrum of details and errands that needed to get done, even though my right hand seems a bit swollen and my arm is tense. Like an equation, I am not always that full of energy. Yesterday I just focused my attention on one thing at a time. My favorite being a book. I was achy with sick feelings in my intestines, so I made a cup of Chamomile tea and picked up where I left off in Through Gates of Splendor, by Elisabeth Elliot. I was determined to finish the last few chapters.

Growing up, we knew the story of these five missionaries. Nate Saint, Roger Youderian, Ed McCully, Pete Fleming, and Jim Elliot who all followed God’s calling to show and communicate the love of Christ to those tribes in Ecuador that otherwise had no contact with the outside world. These men were at the time, the same age range that I am right now. I sat thinking of this…how these men gave everything for the Gospel. They were taking part of God’s plan to reach the nations, ultimately never seeing the fruit of their labor this side of heaven.

A few months after the deaths of these men, their story was recorded. The first copy of Elisabeth’s book was published in 1956. The edition I pulled off my parent’s bookshelf was the 25th anniversary edition, 1981. As I read the Epilogue II, I came across this conversation that Elisabeth had with Corrie Ten B0om:

“Sometimes,” she told me, “I have said, ‘L0rd, I must have something fresh. I cannot go on telling the old story.’ But the Lord said to me, ‘This is the story I gave you. You tell that one.'” So Corrie encouraged me to go on telling mine. (pg. 266)

And this encouraged me. I set out to write blog entries and feel like I am sharing the same story–repetitious. I want something new. But this is my story. and God wants me to tell it. So a new chapter to my story happened this week:

Tuesday evening I started my first dose of the chemo treatment, Sirolimus.  I take it every 12 hours. I have to be consistent with the time, so I chose to take it around the same time I take my other medicines.  So far I have had no side effects.

The chemo itself is very different from the other chemo treatments I have taken in the past. It does not feel like a chemo. Of course this is the first time I have had to keep medicine in the refrigerator…that could be part of it. The recommendation for taking the solution is to put it in a small 2 oz or so of orange juice stirring it a lot, drinking it and then drinking water or something afterwards. If it tastes the way Marcia says it smells, then I am double blessed as I can’t smell it nor does it change taste of my orange juice. Tonight I thought I would try the other recommendation for taking the medicine: in chocolate syrup. It was disgusting. I think I will just plan on drinking lots of orange juice for a while.

However, this chemo can cause mouth sores and so I have been given mouth care instructions to help prevent or treat these sores. First, a reward: I get an excuse to eat pudding, ice cream, applesauce, yogurt, ice cubes or pop sickles before and/or after as the cold and smooth will help prevent mouth sores. I have always been one for flossing and brushing my teeth after meals so that has not been a problem. They did give me a “recipe” for making my own mouthwash as I am no longer allowed to use store-bought ones due to the alcohol content used…even if it says “Alcohol free,” I am not chancing it.

My diet is much the same as it was before, except now I am a bit more cautious on going and getting that white mocha, as I am to watch my sugar intake. God must still want me to learn self-control. There are a few others on the list that I need to watch–eating red meats (which I don’t do often anyway), watch the different fats in dairy products and limit egg yolks to 3 a week; egg whites are fine. They warn against eating spicy foods as they can cause sores. I need to drink lots of cold fluids, eat lots of fresh fruits and vegetables, and get enough fiber. Even if I wasn’t taking this chemo, it is good eating habits to follow.

I am thankful right now that my body has been tolerating the treatments and will just have to take it one day at a time. I will have labs done every week and my first clinic visit to Children’s is at the end of the month. Do I think chemo is working? I don’t even think I can honestly answer that. My body changes from day-to-day. I note more aches or strains, more numbness or bad balance. There are always things at the back of my mind or new physical challenges to overcome.

My story is not yet complete. I know this. Some chapters seem to fly and others seem to drag on endlessly. Some pages make me laugh, some leave me in suspense and others make me cry. Like reading any book, you have to turn the page at some point to continue reading. If I focus on only one page full of th0se physical sufferings, I will never get to the ending or get to share the new things learned with you. I might just find out that the best part is only a few pages over.

*Elliot, Elizabeth. Through Gates of Splendor. Wheaton, Illinois: Living Books (Tyndale House Publishers), 1981.

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July 4, 2013 · 11:58 pm

“Writing Letters on the Veranda”

I like to write. Anything from handwritten cards, typing emails, thoughts in a journal or “to do” lists, taking notes during church or blog entries–writing is something I enjoy. I was the odd student that celebrated when term finals was a twenty page research paper or when essays on tests were a major percentage of the grade. When writing I get to think. It is a conversation on paper.

I think writing flows in my blood. My mom is a role model for what I love in writing. I watch her journal at the kitchen table and admire how she is not just writing but adding color and imagery to the text. Every month she writes cards for all the occasions–birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, get well, sympathy, thank you, thinking of you–to all members of the family, extended family, or close friends. And Mom has the prettiest handwriting.

Yesterday was my writing day. I had momentum. First agenda: I finished all my drafts in my email inbox, much to my hand’s delight. I should have paced myself, because by the time I reached Stoney Creek Roasters for an afternoon tea to accompany finishing some snail mail, my right hand was about ready to call it a day.

But it was worth it. It may not have been a “veranda”, but I was able to sit by the window and look out at the luscious greenery by the creek and write.

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My right hand has become very numb. There are things that are getting more difficult to do and holding a pen firm to write is one of them (sometimes just holding a pen in general depending on size). Last fall, we purchased this tool to help me hold a pen and write. At the time I did not essentially need it so I kept it in the cup of other pens on my nightstand. About a month ago, I reorganized my room including the nightstand corner. I was switching the cup to an old souvenir mug and remember taking this pen holder out because it was too big. Last I remember is setting it on my bed with a few books before I put it somewhere I reasoned to be a good spot for later use. And I don’t recall where that spot is. Thus, at the time I need it most, it is lost.

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Probably a combination of my perfectionism with the sloppy handwriting, my “to do” lists or sometimes letters are sent to the trash can as I start over trying to write with more legibility. Last night, my hands were tired but on my way to bed I knew if I did not write down that I needed more orange juice for taking chemo doses that I would forget. I still forgot what it was when I looked at my sticky note this morning. I stood there like I was reading a riddle…”small..”‘–ok, what did I need that was small? It took me a few minutes but then I remembered what it was that was so scribbled. Small OJ. I threw the sticky note in the trash and wrote a different one.

Life can be like a scribbled sticky note of agendas. In trying to write out my story so perfectly of agendas, I see myself crumple the paper and restart the whole process over again…each time attempting to grasp the pen I write with just a little tighter. But my hands grow weak and I have to let go of the pen. It is only when I have complete surrender that God can post His notes to my heart reminding me (again) that my life is worth more than my own scribbled, crumpled sticky notes. It is a novel being tenderly written just for me.

The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.

Proverbs 16:9

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July 3, 2013 · 7:11 pm

I have started a facebook page!

I am testing it with this post.  🙂

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