The trend is:
We go to the doctor's or hopt. or for chemo, or blood, or blood test, arrive home, and Jim throws up. Today, he was feeling so well, he went to Giant Eagle with me while I picked up more meds, and he sat in the van and people watched. We went home, and he actually felt good enough to eat. So he had a yogurt and soup....and then threw up. Aw shucks... Maybe tomorrow.
Tomorrow is his last radiation. And then Thursday he has a doc appt. I'm not sure if the doc is going to want to try single chemo agents, not so much for healing, but for shrinking. And I'm not sure if Jim wants to do that. And I'm not sure if the National Cancer Institute got our slides and recommendation, and I'm not sure if any of any of this would help Jim enough for him to get down to Bethesda MD for a clinical trial. I'm not sure of much, am I?
About 3 times today, I cried, "honey, please don't die," and Jim said, "I won't." (he had promised early that he wouldn't die, when CHOP was almost a guarantee.) And then, as always he asks the Lord to help him keep his promise that he made to me. The funny thing is, when I say this, and Jim says, "I won't." It comforts me. He's become such a man of God, and he's always been so honorable, that when he says, "I won't" I trust him, because I do trust him, even though I know it's not up to him. Isn't that something.
I like Kim's idea (in response to my past post) of a self hug, imagining it to be my Lord. I will try that. (I'm sorry for your pain, Kim, that has had you at this place in your life, too.) Everyone's pain hurts me anymore. I'm so sad for all the pain. There is so much suffering, it just breaks my heart. How can God stand it?
Sadly, however, after I experience all the sadness about all the sadness, without even knowing it, "I" creep in and say something stupid like, "I hate this refridgerator" or "I hate this pink puke bin." And before I know it, I'm the me I don't like again. Praise God she doesn't stay around as long as she used to. :) It's almost easier being b-t-hy. It protects me from having to feel. And there's some hard stuff to feel out there.
Chrissy, when you were in Africa, is it as horrible as they show on TV? How did you stand it? I can't stand that I can't change that. I want to hurry up and sell my house to feed them....But then what about me? Me me me me me me me me me me.........get the picture. Oh, the flesh, to some day be rid of it.
4 comments:
It was worse. I stood in a room - at the foot of the bed of a woman who was dying of AIDS w/ two toddlers playing at her side. The room was filled w/ "treasures" that she had found inevitably at the local dump. Her room was about 9 x 9. She had no husband - he had abandoned her. It was truly miserable and wretched. How could I offer hope - or care for her and her family? Want to know how I've dealt w/ it? Pretend it doesn't happen, sinfully enough. Forget those images. I love to preoccupy my time w/ reading email and arranging my facebook friends. Thank you, Aunt Dolly, for reminding me of the wretchedness of my heart. Thank you LORD for your grace - help me care for the needy.
Oh Chrissie, isn't it sad? That's what I meant about "not feeling." I shut it off sometimes, because otherwise, I think my heart will break. Not even about my pain. Mine just puts me in closer touch with others.
(oh, there she goes, turning it into a "her" thing again... my default setting)
I know that our eternal hope is the anchor of my soul. But if I can hurt this bad with Jesus, what about all those who hurt so much worse and they don't even know Jesus or have food, or a darn refridgerator. I can't stand it!!!
As you described that situation, my heart was just breaking. Geeze, thanks. I was hoping to hear, "Na, Aunt Dolly, it's fluff so that you send in 10 bucks (not really, but see, let's laugh, so we don't cry...) Tell me she was saved. Please tell me that. The "treasures" thing really cuts. I bet you WANTED TO STAY, yet WANTED TO FLEE SO FAST. But where can we truly go?
I think I'll sign up for facebook.
I love you Chrissie, your heart, your passion. Don't beat yourself up. All of our hearts are wretched. Take your pulse. If the heart is beating, it is sinning.
If the heart is beating, truly it is sinning, INDEED. I don't beat myself up - I rest in the assurances of His grace in the midst of my TOTAL and complete depravity.
If you sign up for facebook - my mom and I can kick your tail (hiney, butt, whatever your choice of word) at a bogglish type game called scramble. Eww... wouldn't that be fun?
I LOVE you Aunt Dolly... and I'll say it again. I just adore (oops, sorry dad!) your honesty and truthfulness in the midst of the pain that is in your home. I love that husband of yours - who is adorable as well ;) (oops -- sorry AGAIN dad -- I'm not allowed to adore anything but Christ!)
Give that hot hubby of yours a kiss for the Koerbers. We love you guys and continue to pray!
And you know, I think people are reading your blog to find out about YOU and your sweet husband. I know that there are loads of other things happening in the world that are painful and hard - but I can find that on CNN and elsewhere (Drudge Report) ... I want to hear about YOUR family.
Well, I guess I could have just called you or e-mailed you, but since others are following the conversation, I figured, I would respond here. Learned something tonite from you Chrissie. I guess, I rest in that grace, too, cause I don't beat myself up...too badly, so I don't rest in it as well as I should. So, thanks for that. And I think that my "honesty" that everyone loves so much is more evidence of resting in His grace, because I wouldn't be that honest. BUT TO BE HONEST...lol...there are some things that I wouldn't be quick to blab about here for everyone to read. Now, that's just plain wise, as not everything is for everyone, however, I would venture to say that the real reason is that I do still struggle with the whole grace thing after all. I do, but then I don't.
Our old pastor, who I loved, said that he had to preach grace to himself every day. I think I do, too.
AND I SIGNED UP FOR FACEBOOK TO PLAY SCRABBLE OR SCRAMBLE OR WHATEVER IT IS. Like I have the time. Or like I need another game to play, to hide in... :)
I'm ready. Jim's sleeping. shhhhhh.
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