Tuesday, July 24, 2012

One last time...

It was a slow and quiet day in the chemo lounge. Here's the sweet faced angel who looked down on Terry all day - the others walked around in scrubs.  Here's the last bag of cisplatin (please God) to ever drip into his vein. 

Many prayers were answered. His blood work was great, his weight was stable. The day was quiet and uneventful. Terry slept on and off for several hours. We were finished by 4:30, Terry wanted, and ate half, a bowl of miso tofu soup on the way home.

There were new drugs. A patch for nausea and another for pain, plus a liquid pain med so he won't have to swallow pills while it hurts so much. 

Both the radiology and medical oncologists expressed their amazement at how well he is doing, how thankful they are he hasn't had many of the side effects which are possible, how pleased they are with treatment so far...and they then give warnings. This last treatment week and then the next 7-10 days will be the most difficult - the pain won't be over on Friday, we won't know the outcome of treatment for weeks and even months. The radiation burns on his neck won't heal for several weeks, the ones in his throat for 4-6 weeks, he won't taste or have salivary gland function for months, his hearing may continue to be affected, lack of energy is expected, his immune system is still fragile...

We listen, then smile and turn the volume down of their words in our heads. We know. It is still going to be hard for a while. Smoothies are going to be the main course for several weeks. We're gonna need drugs and the alternative therapies we've chosen to help out for a while. There are still going to be moments when things are very difficult. I'm still going to cry, he's still going to suffer and be brave and strong, weak and dependent all at the same time. We know.

Every day has had sufficient grace. Every minute we've felt Beloved and loved. Not once have we felt alone or abandoned. Exhausted and terrified a few times, but not alone. We are fighting, and being fought for. There is nothing to do but to live fully in this season, to learn to be loved and known here. It's the paradox of 'this is so terrible' and 'how can I be anywhere else?'.

Your prayers are our strength, friends. Thank you. 

God is good and faithful.


  1. Still praying for you both. Your words are powerful, Trudy!

  2. Home stretch, guys. Praying and believing for the very BEST wrap-up in the history of this treatment!

  3. Thank you for the profound way you word things, Trudy. I'm praying for you guys.