Slowly but Surely
I'm finally starting to emerge from the fog of chemo. It's funny, but the first signal that I am feeling better is usually a generalized crankiness. I become very disgruntled and dissatisfied with lying around, and that's when I know I am coming back.
My kids are notoriously clueless about the depth of my suffering. This is good in some ways, but maddening in others. Here's an example from Monday: I had been vomiting all day and felt like I was glued to my chair. I hadn't even dressed beyond a nightgown. Smells and noises were absolutely excruciating. I had already sent Don to the shower after he went for gas for the lawn mower because I could smell it all over the room and it made me nauseous. For some reason, Ariel and Zach could not get along all afternoon. Every time I turned around they were bickering again, Zach in the doorway right by one of my ears and Ariel on the couch, right by my other ear. Finally exasperated, I said, "Ariel, you are almost 12 years old and Zach is almost 10. You are both old enough to have some respect when someone is not feeling well!"
Ariel looked at me with sincere confusion on her face and replied, "Who's not feeling well?"
ARGHHHHHHHHH! You are not going to find much sympathy around here for my plight. My life doesn't afford much compassion, either. I have been insanely busy since my treatment on Friday. We came straight home, grabbed the kids, and went to the premiere of Autumn's play "Alice in Wonderland". She did a terrific job as Alice. (It's funny because Andy and Josiah have always compared her to Alice due to her natural naivety.) In fact, all of the actors/actresses were well-suited for their parts. It was a very enjoyable escape, which is exactly what I like in a play or movie. After the play, we joined the Wallaces for dinner after taking the kids home.
On Saturday, I woke up about 5 a.m., vomiting profusely. I was worried about our trip to North Carolina, but my stomach finally settled enough to leave the house at 8:30. We picked up Daddy and Virginia for the trip, and Andy and Tabitha went separately in her car. It rained quite a bit, so we had the picnic in my aunt's garage, but it was still a great day. The food was delicious, and we spent time with my dad's sisters and brother and their families. That trip together each year means so much to me and Daddy. I am glad that we have made it our tradition to go. There's something so peaceful, so continual -- if that makes sense -- about returning to the place from whence we came. I love hearing Daddy's stories about the mountains and the family. It's a wonderful experience. (On a funny note, we used Don's Garmin to map our route -- even though Daddy knows those mountains inside and out, we thought the Garmin might know the shortest way. Well, the Garmin makes no allowance for the curviness of the roads, and WOW did we ever take some curvy roads. One of them I remember all too well from my youth when Jenny and I got car sick so easily. It's called "Straight Branch", and whoever named it that has a very sick sense of humor. It's easily THE most crooked road I have even seen. It's incredibly beautiful, though, even in the rain.)
I laid around all day on Sunday, sick and miserable. On Monday, I made the trek back to Knoxville for my Neulasta shot -- which, of course, ushered in a an even more miserable 24 hours of aches, fever, and chills. In spite of this, I went out Tuesday (yesterday) to finalize all of the plans for this week's anniversary dinner: the cake, the flowers for the altar, the announcement in the newspaper, the final menu, the guest book and decorations for the main table. We also gathered up x-rays for Eric and Lacey's visit to the oral surgeon today to make preparations for them to have their wisdom teeth out later this summer. Additionally, we took the van to the car lot for more service before our beach trip next week.
Whew! This afternoon, I finally lazed around for a while on my chair while Don watched cartoons. He likes the "oldie" cartoons that come on one of our cable channels in the afternoon. Usually Zach watches them, too -- a respite from the afternoon heat. Today, Zach had gone to the pool with Lacey, Ariel, and Derrick, so Don was watching them alone. I watched him for a while, and it occurred to me how very much I love him. He is my best friend, my companion, and the one person in the world who truly understands the depth and breadth of my battle. I just would not want to walk through this world without him.
About 4:00, he went out to mow. It was a beautiful day here, not so humid, so I jazzied outside and sat under a shade tree with my quilt books to plan and dream. (I don't know if I've told you this or not, but Don bought me a new sewing machine last week. I've never owned a new one, just a persnickety old hand-me-down that has served me well through years of sewing. So, with my new machine, I am going to get serious about my goal of making each of the children a full-sized bed quilt. If I machine-piece the quilts, and hand-quilt them, I should be able to make some progress, right?) It was so nice and peaceful in the afternoon shade that I had a hard time dragging myself back into the house.
So, overall, I think it's safe to say that the worst of the chemo effects are behind me. I am very, very weak, but my strength is slowly returning. While I was at the hospital on Friday, they scheduled my tests: CT scans and MRI on July 7th (the day after we return from the beach), followed by results on July 11th. The "master" plan is to get me to a sarcoma specialist, armed with these results, to get an expert opinion on the best next course to take. But for right now, the plan is built around living: the 50th anniversary dinner, Lacey's 18th birthday, our first family vacation in 3 years. The kaleidoscope of life keeps turning, mixing the brilliant hues of happiness and laughter and celebration with the darker shades of sorrow and pain and suffering to create a more breathtaking display of colors than I could ever have imagined. I can't wait to see the scenes unfold, one by one, against the deep blue summer sky of my life.
:-) Sharon
My kids are notoriously clueless about the depth of my suffering. This is good in some ways, but maddening in others. Here's an example from Monday: I had been vomiting all day and felt like I was glued to my chair. I hadn't even dressed beyond a nightgown. Smells and noises were absolutely excruciating. I had already sent Don to the shower after he went for gas for the lawn mower because I could smell it all over the room and it made me nauseous. For some reason, Ariel and Zach could not get along all afternoon. Every time I turned around they were bickering again, Zach in the doorway right by one of my ears and Ariel on the couch, right by my other ear. Finally exasperated, I said, "Ariel, you are almost 12 years old and Zach is almost 10. You are both old enough to have some respect when someone is not feeling well!"
Ariel looked at me with sincere confusion on her face and replied, "Who's not feeling well?"
ARGHHHHHHHHH! You are not going to find much sympathy around here for my plight. My life doesn't afford much compassion, either. I have been insanely busy since my treatment on Friday. We came straight home, grabbed the kids, and went to the premiere of Autumn's play "Alice in Wonderland". She did a terrific job as Alice. (It's funny because Andy and Josiah have always compared her to Alice due to her natural naivety.) In fact, all of the actors/actresses were well-suited for their parts. It was a very enjoyable escape, which is exactly what I like in a play or movie. After the play, we joined the Wallaces for dinner after taking the kids home.
On Saturday, I woke up about 5 a.m., vomiting profusely. I was worried about our trip to North Carolina, but my stomach finally settled enough to leave the house at 8:30. We picked up Daddy and Virginia for the trip, and Andy and Tabitha went separately in her car. It rained quite a bit, so we had the picnic in my aunt's garage, but it was still a great day. The food was delicious, and we spent time with my dad's sisters and brother and their families. That trip together each year means so much to me and Daddy. I am glad that we have made it our tradition to go. There's something so peaceful, so continual -- if that makes sense -- about returning to the place from whence we came. I love hearing Daddy's stories about the mountains and the family. It's a wonderful experience. (On a funny note, we used Don's Garmin to map our route -- even though Daddy knows those mountains inside and out, we thought the Garmin might know the shortest way. Well, the Garmin makes no allowance for the curviness of the roads, and WOW did we ever take some curvy roads. One of them I remember all too well from my youth when Jenny and I got car sick so easily. It's called "Straight Branch", and whoever named it that has a very sick sense of humor. It's easily THE most crooked road I have even seen. It's incredibly beautiful, though, even in the rain.)
I laid around all day on Sunday, sick and miserable. On Monday, I made the trek back to Knoxville for my Neulasta shot -- which, of course, ushered in a an even more miserable 24 hours of aches, fever, and chills. In spite of this, I went out Tuesday (yesterday) to finalize all of the plans for this week's anniversary dinner: the cake, the flowers for the altar, the announcement in the newspaper, the final menu, the guest book and decorations for the main table. We also gathered up x-rays for Eric and Lacey's visit to the oral surgeon today to make preparations for them to have their wisdom teeth out later this summer. Additionally, we took the van to the car lot for more service before our beach trip next week.
Whew! This afternoon, I finally lazed around for a while on my chair while Don watched cartoons. He likes the "oldie" cartoons that come on one of our cable channels in the afternoon. Usually Zach watches them, too -- a respite from the afternoon heat. Today, Zach had gone to the pool with Lacey, Ariel, and Derrick, so Don was watching them alone. I watched him for a while, and it occurred to me how very much I love him. He is my best friend, my companion, and the one person in the world who truly understands the depth and breadth of my battle. I just would not want to walk through this world without him.
About 4:00, he went out to mow. It was a beautiful day here, not so humid, so I jazzied outside and sat under a shade tree with my quilt books to plan and dream. (I don't know if I've told you this or not, but Don bought me a new sewing machine last week. I've never owned a new one, just a persnickety old hand-me-down that has served me well through years of sewing. So, with my new machine, I am going to get serious about my goal of making each of the children a full-sized bed quilt. If I machine-piece the quilts, and hand-quilt them, I should be able to make some progress, right?) It was so nice and peaceful in the afternoon shade that I had a hard time dragging myself back into the house.
So, overall, I think it's safe to say that the worst of the chemo effects are behind me. I am very, very weak, but my strength is slowly returning. While I was at the hospital on Friday, they scheduled my tests: CT scans and MRI on July 7th (the day after we return from the beach), followed by results on July 11th. The "master" plan is to get me to a sarcoma specialist, armed with these results, to get an expert opinion on the best next course to take. But for right now, the plan is built around living: the 50th anniversary dinner, Lacey's 18th birthday, our first family vacation in 3 years. The kaleidoscope of life keeps turning, mixing the brilliant hues of happiness and laughter and celebration with the darker shades of sorrow and pain and suffering to create a more breathtaking display of colors than I could ever have imagined. I can't wait to see the scenes unfold, one by one, against the deep blue summer sky of my life.
:-) Sharon
posted by Sharon | 7:56 PM
6 Comments:
I very much appreciate you telling us about your days. it's nice to hear from someone who is going through a difficult time share her feelings and ways of coping through the rough spots. I hope your anniversary dinner is a blast!! tell your family hi for me too ( : ~lauren julie~(aka looie ;)
Aaah I went to North Carolina once and it was beautiful, some place I thought I'd like to move to. Alice in Wonderland is one of my favorites, I had an Alice themed birthday tea party last year, it was awesome :P So I think that's neat Autumn did that play. I sometimes get really bad nausea and I don't know why, but the only thing that makes it go away is to make myself really cold. Drink ice water, put a cold rag on your forehead, have a fan directly on you...to the point where you start to shiver...I don't know why it helps but it does, maybe it will work for you. It may relax you too. And eat some cold watermelon ;)
*hugs* -TR
wow that's a lot going on...some good and some not so good, yet through it all your motivation and strength don't seem to waiver much. i mean, planning on NINE homemade quilts? it's really pretty remarkable. and that's among all manner of other things. good for you...and for those around you too. in some ways you are thriving more than so many folks. it's truly admirable.
i hope you all have a fabulous and memorable vacation and enjoy every moment of the beauty and togetherness.
So exciting to hear about Lacey's wonderful performance! Please tell her congrats for me. MY lil 12 year old will be going to her first audition ever for community theater here on Mon. She is auditioning for a production of The Little Mermaid. CAtch is every kid that auditions gets a part but i figure for her first one, it would be good for her to see how it al goes down you know? Shes so talented and creative I just feel it is the time to start channeling this into something for her instead of her griping about being bored in summer etc.
Im happy to hear your trip was a success. lol I wouldnt have made it through all those windy roads without hanging out the car window the whole time lol.
Please keep writing as often as you can. love to read your stories. Keep in touch, Shell
I adore North Carolina. Memories of campfires, hikes, watermelon chilling in the 'crik', and toasting marshmallows my grandparents with flood my mind whenever I think of that place. Naturally, it's where I chose to honeymoon when I got married. The peace of the mountains, the beauty of nature...it's all so wonderful.
I'm so very glad you went and enjoyed your trip.
I want to tell you how much of an impact your blogs have on me. You write so I can *see* what you're writing about and every one contains a reminder to enjoy the simplest pleasures in life. Thank you.
Well since you last wrote your beautiful blog Sharon I found myself in the hospital for 5 days with cramps and pain that had me doubled over in pain. I was taken by ambulance and 5 days and 3 tests later, they think it is IBS or Crohn's Disease or some digestive problem. It was hell. Oh how can I say that to you, who has been through so much more. Well hell is hell and when you are there, it doesn't matter who else has been or for how long. It does make you appreciate the suffering of others and wonder how they cope when it is so awful. Then when the pain goes away; even briefly, then you appreciate life more than ever before. The comfortable life without ever experiencing that kind of pain, fear, dread, frustration, etc., that you took for granted would always be more than less comfortable.
I have an even higher appreciation for you and all those who suffer pain on earth for long periods of time. Does it cleanse you? Do you offer it to Jesus as the nuns used to tell us to do. I did that and it helped. ; ) It sure makes you think differently about those you love and that love you. Mental pain is just as hard but that is also different. Physical pain strips you of yourself. You are so engulfed and time stops for awhile or seems to go on forever. I think you and others who have experienced it know what I am talking about. Those who have not, like myself until now, will not. I am going to try to be kinder now. Take things slower. Enjoy each day. So small compared to what you've gone through but still enough to jolt me into another place if you will.
I wish I could write as you do. I am not gifted in that. Your blog is so inspiring and I must must tell you and I hope you read this. You Sharon Leming, whose son is becoming famous but who herself might not be known, has probably helped a lot of people by writing this blog. I thought of it a lot. I thought of you a lot. It gave me courage. It gave me strength. It made me not feel so alone. Thank you. Is this one of those God things? I think it is.
Also not out of the woods yet and more tests next week. Probably not cancer but heck I just wanted good ole fashioned food poisoning; the kind the goes away and may never ever come back.
God Bless You.
Angel
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