Chemotherapy
I hate to admit this, primarily because I don’t want to discourage anyone else on this path, but for me personally chemotherapy has proven to be the scariest, darkest and most depressing phase of it all. It has just begun and I am certain, like the rest of it, I will adjust, but as of now I really hate it.
I started off on the wrong foot, I had a mental image of what to expect on day one, but what took place caught me completely off guard. Days before, I went to have a port surgically put into my chest so that the chemo could come home with me in an infuser for 48 hours. What I didn’t realize was that my trip home, only happened after I did three plus hours of infusion in the hospital; that didn’t begin until two hours after I arrived to have my blood evaluated to have the meds mixed properly. I mistakenly thought I could go by myself on my first day, but I had a near panic attack, on the way to Hopkins (praise God I called my sister in tears for a pep-talk and she launched into a prayer that put it all into perspective).
When I think about how it felt to first be diagnosed with cancer and I remember what it was like to just want to live, I am grateful for my excellent treatment and prognosis. It sure seems like I will be able to live fully and Lord willing for years to come.
My main issue is that for many years I have been pursuing life to the fullest with my body, my mind and my soul and chemotherapy is death. It kills the bad cells, but it kills the good. When you take a girl who wakes up and greets each day with life-giving nourishment and say “for now, we are going to shoot chemicals up your veins that will possibly make you very sick and susceptible to illness,” it really stinks. When you take a girl who never even took Tylenol for discomfort and hand her a bag of Rx’s as a means for physical survival of side effects, that would otherwise render her grossly ill, it truly sucks!
I am seeking gratitude, I am thankful for the many things I have, like my hair, the loving support of so many, the fact that I do get to live and that all the bells and whistles (bags and ports) in my body right now will be reversed, and that independent of life without a rectum and a new fancy scar on my front side, I will have a fairly healthy looking body again by summer.
Part of my sadness is my attitude with the fact that I’m not more willing to suffer. There is a feeling inside that I am above this. I don’t smoke (although I did) I don’t drink alcohol or soda; I don’t eat food with dyes, or burnt marshmallows on my S’mores (carcinogens). So why in world do I have to have a disease that one would expect from those who abuse their body?
I don’t really ask why, I know, as I am in line for my hospital infusion, that God has placed me there for a purpose and that purpose would never be met unless I was the one going through the treatment. He has a plan and I know that. I am indebted to Him for His purpose and the fact that I don’t have a lot of ‘why me’ type of questions.
I’m sad because as I approach the eight-week mark since my surgery and my body is ready to exercise, the chemicals say no. Instead of the six-week recovery this is a six-month road of what today feels like death. I pray I will grow in this, that God’s purpose will be fully met, that I will embrace His plan.
I pray that by sharing my negativity with you that I have not discouraged you, I know chemo does not feel this bad to others. I would be so sad to think my complaining put discouragement into the hearts of others. We all face challenges, whether it is death, divorce, illness, prodigal children, infertility, financial woes, addiction, depression or loneliness, and I need to continue to accept this is my journey today. I need to continue to put on my big-girl panties and deal with it!
I love you, please keep praying for my attitude as I rest in the arms of my Loving Saviour whose plans for us are more than we could ask or imagine!
(PS since I wrote this at four am, I feel much better!)



You know that our prayers are with you. I remember my Mom going through chemo, as well as several friends, and all handled it differently, but all have had positive results. I know the treatment is awful, but with your faith and all the prayers, I have full confidence in you!
Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us Charlotte – we are all still here, encouraging you, praying for you and willing you on with this journey. Just keep focused on what you said – by next summer you will most certainly have your body back to normal again….take this winter to rest, heal and plan all the nice things you will do next year – sooooooooooooooo easy for us to say when its you going through this…….but we know you can do it and you have come so very far. Lots of love and hugs to you xx
Dearest Charlotte,
Continuing to pray for you and go before the Throne of Grace for you as you go through this journey. It may feel like you are under the curse right now but truly, you are under the Blessing and will be victorious!
I have been thinking of you all week. It makes me think of Trisha’s scar on her chest. She said “Mom, this surgery will make me a better doctor, and I have this awesome scar to show off”. Having a port in your chest is going to be a scar of a fight you won. Be proud of it. It will be a reminder that God got you through this, and you came out fine! Isn’t God great?! Try not to be upset about this treatment, it will end. When we were at the Ronald McDonald House, there were kids that had been fighting cancer for years! Trisha had a life threatening heart defect, but it was found and fixed and that’s the end of it. I guess the old saying “there are always people worse off than you” is true. I am so thankful Trisha is healed and did not die. And you will be fine too. Just hang in there, God knows what he is doing! XXOO
Dear Charlotte,
I am thinking of you and loving you and sending you good vibrations and happy thoughts. I will put your name in the prayer list at my church. Sending you love, dear brave Charlotte who cured all of little Oscar’s colds by suggesting I stop giving him juice and milk. Lots and lots of love.
b.
Keep on sharing Charlotte – Thank you for being “Real”. It is blessing us!
Charlotte, I can’t imagine all that you’re going through, but from my vantage point it seems you are handling it with a lot of grace and a great attitude. As someone else said, everyone handles chemotherapy differently, both physically and emotionally. I believe that your transparency here on your blog will be a great help to those who experience similar ordeals and emotions.
Keep your eyes focused forward. Picture yourself in that summer sunshine with this phase behind you.
Love and prayers!
Thank you for sharing with such honesty. I and my family will be praying for you.
A smile comes to my face when I think of how our Lord is watching over you now and always. As hard as this chemo is, I know that He will guide you through it. Keep thinking about the rebirth we all see in the spring and how much better you will feel by then,. God made our bodies with such awesome recovery capabilities. I know your body will recover with His help. I love you and will keep praying for you and your family.
You know we will not forget to pray for you now. You will continue to be in our prayers until this is a dim memory. The weeks will pass and before you know it, summer will be here and you’ll be free of all of this, you will have your life back again and you will REJOICE!
dear Charlotte, in addition to what others have said above, I want to say a big THANK YOU for your honesty about how hard cancer treatment is. I “know” I should eat better, but what you are experiencing has helped me to actually make better food choices — to say no to some sweets, say yes to more fruits & vegetables — and you get all the credit for that.
Thank you so much for helping me to grow up — to be more responsible for my own health. I’m sure I’m not the only one who can say this. Who knows how many people you are helping not just spiritually but physically? love, K
The shifting of your mind Charlotte to accept this time as healing ~
even the chemo is covered by God’s Grace. You are not alone on this journey
and many are holding you in God’s Healing Light daily. God’s medicine from our oils
like peppermint for brain fog, or clarity for mental clarity have sooooo helped others
on this journey. You have everything you need, as you meet many, and learn lessons
that only God’s will designed for you. Enjoy this radiant day you special lady!
Charlotte: I know you are hurting and I hurt for you. The good news about chemo is that it will help assure that your cancer is forever removed. Try to take it one day at a time, work with others as best you can.
I love you,
Dad
Charlotte, as someone who is 20 years down the road from her own chemo experience, I know exactly how you feel. I was also a healthy-eating natural girl who didn’t take asperin. But since I’m on the other side, I hope I can share with you two things: 1) take good care of yourself right now. Eat for fuel even if you aren’t hungry; sleep; pamper yourself during this time because you are right, the good cells need it.
But 2) be a warrior during this time. Put up your spiritual “dukes” and mentally see yourself living a long, healthy life. Because there is life after cancer. You are in the heat of battle right now, and the fighter that you are (spiritually and otherwise) is needed. Ignite her through prayer. Through friends. Through people like me who are standing beside you saying, “you WILL get through this!” One day we’ll dance together after this is all over and celebrate all the things God so graciously showed you as you held tight to Him during the storm.
Love you sweet friends,
Suzie Eller
Even when feeling “negative” about the direction of your healing’s path you handle frustration with a grace I’m sure I would be hard pressed to grasp onto if our places were reversed. Thank you for your vulnerability through this journey. I am praying for you. Love, Shawna