Last night after blogging, John and I went to up to bed. We weren't especially sleepy so we watched a movie. After it was over, I was lying there in his arms thinking how much I hate this cancer! I was overwhelmed with tears. Not just quiet, flowing down my face kind of tears. These were balling, can't catch my breath kind of tears! I finally uttered, "Why me? I HATE CANCER! I hate what it has done to our life. I hate the stress it causes us. I hate the way my body feels! I don't want to do this chemo anymore! I have 14 more sessions of this hell! I hate this cancer!" He held me with his strong hands and stroked my stubbly head and assured me he would take this for me if he could and that it's ok to cry and he loves me and will be with me through it all.
You see, my stubble-haired head felt warm and oddly strange as I knew that every moment another follicle is letting go of one of my short pieces of hair and will continue to do so until I'm bald, totally bald! Sure, I can joke and say, "Hey, at least I won't have to shave for months! And you get a free Brazilian!" You know what I realize right now in this moment? I couldn't care less about those things! My hair is making a mess everywhere. When I eat, my head sheds stubble in my food. Gross! When I sleep, my body sheds hair in my sheets. Everywhere! When I wake up, my body is cold, then hot, then hungry, then nauseous. My head pounds as I stand up, so I hold my head to stop the pounding and what do I get? A prickly reminder of my chemotherapy drugs.
I started this whole process thinking I'd be so spiritual, so close to the Lord, reading the Word everyday and studying the Bible. But what can I say about myself? I can say I am thankful for everything all my friends and family are doing, yet inside I feel dry, spiritually. I don't sense God curing me. I don't see Him making me feel less symptoms than anyone else with these stupid drugs. I feel like I'm fooling myself in thinking I'm some Christian pillar that people say I am. That's crap! I'm focusing on my hair falling out, my headaches and flu-like symptoms, my treatments and their side effects. I'm rarely listening to anything and when I do, I'm too fatigued to pay attention.
In fact, in three weeks since all this started, I have two vivid memories when I quietly worshiped the Lord and it was sweet (both times I was in the shower and as uncovered before my Lord as possible), I have one time when I listened to the Word and it was just meaningless words off a page. So where is my faith? Where is my honest trust in the Lord? I am so lame, God. I even have begun questioning my throat pain symptom. I still pray every time it happens for some woman or girl who is being raped, and I hope it's a prayer that is heard, but today, this morning, I realize am nothing. I am nothing spiritual, nothing to emulate, nothing to model. I am selfish, whining, and pathetic. I just want this cancer to go away. I want my life back.
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