Coping

There are some things that spring out at me, unexpectedly, blindsiding me. There is the sheer weariness of having drains hanging out of me, tubes that pull and smart when I accidentally catch them on a door knob or Mark or sit on them. The discouragement when I measure drains and realize that after days of the volume dropping, it rises, leaving me wondering if I will not have them all removed on Wednesday, that they might be with me for two weeks.

I look at the mirror and I see me, but not me. And it's harder than I thought it would be. I did not expect the waves of sadness that wash over me. I am glad the surgery can help rid me of the cancer, and it was necessary. While I never thought of myself as being hung up on my looks, I grieve for myself.

And oh, I miss my kids. I know I can not take care of them right now. (The thought of Abigail near my drains makes me shudder.) But I called on Independence Day and they were all at my sister and brother-in-law's house, laughing and squealing (they were sugared up on smores) and rushing out the door to see the fireworks. And I miss them. I miss taking them to the fireworks, and making them smores, and going to the parade and doing sparklers. Please do not get me wrong - I am so grateful my kids have my wonderful family to take care of them and keep them busy and make this time special. And I know - people tell me I am doing all of this to get healthy so I can be there for my kids for the long haul. But I miss them and mourn for what I am missing.

The sheer number of appointments coming up makes me tired. I know I have to meet with plastic surgeon every other week for a while as he works on me. I need to get with the oncologist and devise a treatment plan. I am not sure exactly how many times I will need to meet with him and if chemo is advised, where I will go to receive it. Mark is good at talking me down and reminding me to take it one day at a time.

And this glitch - what else do I call it - with the surgery and being unsure if there are clear margins. I did not forsee this one. And I feel like God is stripping away all my layers, laying me bare. Do I trust him? It was easier, cockier really, to say, "Oh, yes," when things all came together so well. And now I have to say "Yes" when humanly, I want to grab all the control of the situation (as IF I have that) and make it work out. I am finding it really hard to trust. I want to, but it is so hard.

Thank God for Mark, who has held my hand, driven me all over, run and fetched and carried, and talked me down. He has cleaned drains for me and helped me with bandages. He hugs me - gently. He keeps reminding me I am going to make my recovery harder if I set impossibly high standards of where I think I should be. It is humbling to have him care for me in ways that I have not needed since I was a child. He is living out the in sickness and in health, for better and for worse he vowed almost 15 years ago. I do not deserve him. But I am glad he is here with me. I hate to have him go back to work next week.

These are some verses from Philippians 4 I find myself rereading often.
"Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." I am trying.