Breaking the Darkness

I had a major setback this weekend. Awhile back, with high hopes of putting something on our calendar, Tom graciously got our family amazing tickets to see my favorite band Third Day. It’s been on the calendar almost as long as I’ve known I had cancer, I knew, Lord willing, my surgery would be distant enough that I could go and really rock out! (Spoken like a real mom!)

On Friday I woke up physically feeling the chemo. I hoped to rest so I could go to the show on Saturday night and I did feel better on Saturday, but I still felt off. We had a sitter, for the eight year old, and gathered our teens for night in Baltimore; I could not wait. I’d seen Third Day before and knew even though it was a Christian band, my kids (who have bit different taste in music than I do) were bound to have an incredible night too. The last time I saw them it was the best show I’d ever seen and I wanted so badly to experience it with my family. I got all dolled up, in a new outfit, (part of a love-wardrobe that my father and stepmother graciously lavished me with, the weekend before).  We were in the car, halfway to the show, when all I could think about was getting home and getting in bed. I wasn’t sick, I wasn’t nauseated and my mouth didn’t taste like metal (the way they said it would) but all I could think of was getting home.  Tom saw the look on my face.  The night wasn’t cheap, it wasn’t easy to round up our teenagers on a Saturday night either, “Do you want to go home?” he asked.

“Yes,” I admitted as one of my dreams-come-true was about to be thrown by the wayside. I was incredibly disappointed but stunned by the man who was so attentive to me! He made me feel like the only thing that matters in the world at this moment, is how I feel.  No one was more saddened than I was and it sent me spiraling down a really bad path.   I mean a really bad path.  A path that was full of thrones and thistles; “I can’t do anything!”  “I don’t know how to feel, I’m not sick but I’m trapped! I can’t do this for six months, get me out of here!”

Suddenly life begin to feel like, “If only I wasn’t going through chemotherapy then everything would be great, I’d be happy and full of life and able to experience all the things I can’t because I have this hard to explain feeling holding me back!”  I bought into that lie all weekend.  I had bouts of anxiety to accompany my rapidly accelerating depression.  Knowing I need to count my blessings (and I can see them loud and clear) wasn’t keeping me afloat either. They weren’t giving me much buoyancy as the sorrow of life with cancer began to darken any good feelings I had to cling to. At one point I pulled Tom to the side, I was shaking and panicking, “What are we going to do”, I cried, “Please don’t give up on me.”

Without a thought in the world he steadily said, “I’m not going anywhere, I’m here for you.”  I had to have been the world’s most unattractive wife crying, shaking, panicking because I don’t want to be out of my comfort zone (let me remind you, I’m not actually dying) but there before me stood a man of integrity assuring me that he was in it for the long haul and I could count on him. It was a true gift. I went back to feeling sorry for myself.

Monday morning came and it was time for my family to leave me.  I was not nauseated but I felt like I weigh 1,000 pounds. I wasn’t tired, but I was compelled to stay near my bed. It wasn’t clear if I’m supposed to feel like this or is it in my head, is it the physiological response to the chemotherapy or the depression, which was beginning to steal my hope.  What would the day be like, there is no way I could just get in the car and go, I am too ill, it’s too hard to describe.  I called my sister weeping and admitting the depth of my sorrow, she launched into a prayer!

I took a leap of faith and asked a close friend to take me to Yoga.  I was sacred, it would mean being away from my bed, but of course it was safe, I could lie there the whole time, if need be, and be well received.

Before I went Stella arrived.  She is a godsend who has been sent, for this season, to bless me with the work around my home.  “Stella,” I told her, “I’m depressed.” Immediately she began to share a story from her weekend and that was when things began to change.

She started a new job; she was caring for an older woman who had broken both her legs.  She had Stella come Sunday morning to get her clean and prepare food for visitors. At four pm Sunday she called Stella depressed.   “Please come over now,” the woman asked.  She told Stella that she had hoped for visitors that Sunday but no one came, she told Stella how depressed she was.  Stella took her home to her family for the night; she shared her children and invited her to spend Thanksgiving with her. Stella pointed out all the love I have in my home in the form of people and cards and gifts. Suddenly I saw my blessings and they rescued me from the pit that was threatening me.

Stephanie got me for yoga and it was empowering and cleansing. As I did certain things I remembered how much effort it had taken me just to sit and how walking to my mailbox was like a marathon for me a month before. She took me to grab a bite to eat and then posted me on her couch that was perched on a cliff, above quiet water, amidst the fall leaves as the sun trickled in on my skin.  We had girl time and I lay there while she unpacked from her recent move and we laughed. By the time I got home and back in bed I realized I had been out most of the day and it was refreshing.  I’ve been in my bed for most of the time since August and I love my bed but I’m tired of being there.

It’s Tuesday. I have a week before my next treatment. I’m not sure about driving but I am going to try to stay out of bed as much as I can embrace what I have and take this season to grow instead of missing it through complaining.  I love you.