A Cancer Story: The Dark Days
I’ve tried recollecting my journey through cancer a few times now over the past six years. I have no problem telling about the pre-cancer tests and anxieties, the surgery and post-surgery gloom. Talking about the ileostomy comes easy. But the next nine months, those months when I endured chemo and it’s dark side effects, that’s another story.
It’s a rocky story, one of faith and doubt, courage and fear, strength and weakness. Truthfully, much of those months is a blur to me. There are moments I remember, images, feelings, but mostly, the events of those months reside in a fog, the kind that rolls in off the ocean and distorts the landscape, blurs the fine edges.
I received chemo every other week. It was on Wednesdays and the infusion took about three hours. The nurse would them hook me up to a portable chemo pump and send me home. I’d then receive a steady infusion of chemo over the next 48 hours. On Friday’s I’d return to the doctor’s office to have the pump removed and I’d be free for another week and a half.
The side effects of chemo included numbness in my fingers and feet, an extreme sensitivity to cold, decreased ability to taste, fatigue like I’d never felt before, and nausea. Lots of nausea. After every chemo session the side effects would be worse for a few days, then would taper to barely noticeable. Each round they got worse and lasted longer, though. By the end, I had the side effects the entire two weeks.
I was working during those days, too. I’d have off on chemo days then just work a half day on Thursday, go home and sleep. Friday I’d be back at it but would have to take time off to have the chemo pump removed.
Thus was my schedule for the nine months I received chemotherapy. It was a steady spiral down both physically and emotionally and psychologically.
Looking back on it, those were dark days. Tears came easily. I did a lot of staring, a lot of thinking. My emotions sat on a knife’s edge. But in spite of the darkness the Light was always there. I felt Him, heard Him. I’m not crazy. I did. And in many ways I’ve never felt closer to Him.
The valley has a funny way of pushing us closer to our Father, doesn’t it?
Posted on March 31, 2014, in Christian Living, Life in General and tagged Cancer, Cancer survivor, Chemotherapy, Colon Cancer Awareness, colon cancer chemo, dark days. Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.
When we need Him the most and are sometimes not even able to cry out, He is by our side, carrying us when we can’t walk. Our God is truly an awesome God! Footprints in the sand has a special meaning to me and certainly rings true in situations such as this! ~Sarah Snider
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I am with the other commenter. I love that Footprints in the Sand. It is definitely one of my favorites of all time and is so very true.
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It is when it is the darkest that we are the most vulnerable. We have burnt off the energy of the anger, the adrenalin from anticipating the surgery and the shock of the body changes we had to endure. Then, after those assaults to our psyche, chemo drains the last ampules of our inner strength. The closeness to Him we feel in the darkest of times comes from the absolute fact that HE is our only source of power, our only source of energy. THE source of our redemption.
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