Almost every day of the week that I receive Chemotherapy, feels like Cryday. I am struggling to discern the days of the week, because every day I just feel like crying. The Mondays are normally the worst. The drips hurt and it seems that I am the exception to the rule, being that one person whose drips leak into the tissue in my arm. According to the info brochure that I received; it is not something that is “likely” to happen.
The Tuesday is normally a bit better, but that is all before receiving the injection that produces white blood cells in my body. You see, it is not the Chemo that is killing the intruder in my body. It is the white blood cells – the Chemo makes it vulnerable and then the army that is being produced in my body, comes and attack it (with force of course, like only white blood cells can do). This was merely round number two. Four more to go. Words that are so cheap and easy to say. Words, that no one realise, are not easy for me to say.
I say it, but cringe as I say it, because I know what each number from 1 to 6 mean to me.How my body feels. For the first time in my life, I can feel the difference in my body when I eat. Especially in Treatment week, it is as if I can feel I need food. The moment that I eat, I feel better. But, when it takes longer than what is allowed, to get something to eat, my oh my, then my body has a protest of its own!
I took so many things for granted. Things like being able to make and pack school lunch boxes, feeding the house dogs, bathing, getting dressed and putting on make-up. Everything comes so easy when your body is not weak. Everybody comments on how brave I am and how well I am handling this thing. Then I hear the devil stir in my thoughts, saying it is all fake. You are fake. You only post the beautiful photos of yourself with make-up on.
At first I believed the father of all lies. You see, my whole world and life has been ripped out from under my feet. This is truly a season in my life where I am stripped from everything. From my hair, nails (yes, I now have to patiently wait for it all to grow out), being able to function like normal to exercise, even my work (even if it was jam packed with stress, it helped me to develop into the person that I am today). My work is something that I know how to do it. I am sure if you were to wake me at 3 am in the morning, with some or another tax question, I would be more than likely be able to steer you into the right direction for the solution.
Fact is, I don’t know how to be the way I am now. To be able to function normally just does not exist. Nothing happens the way it always did. During treatment week, I do not have energy to sit up straight, quickly write a bible verse, making the video and then do my thoughts about that verse. It feels like I am busy losing my pink feathers®. I just cannot seem to feed myself spiritually within God’s word. The best that I can so is to put on praise & worship music. That is all that I can do now.
Bathroom crying has become a norm and in the order of the day. There I cannot distinguish between tears, bath water or shower water (the days that I do have energy to shower). The house is normally quiet, my husband would have taken the kids to school and then I can cry like a girl and call out to God over and over to just stop this process. God, can it not just stop? I find myself asking over and over. The day before the very first treatment, I found myself asking God Why God? Why this? Why me? WHY? During the first treatment cycle, I woke up one morning early, shortly after asking my questions to God. I sleep with praise & worship music too…. that morning when I woke up, I was wide awake. The words that were playing on the speaker was from Mercy Me‘s Dear Younger Me. The words that I clearly heard were Dear Younger Me, It’s not your fault. You were never meant to carry this beyond the cross… This was the first time that I heard God audible in this manner.
So many people check in via Whatsapp, sending scriptures, praying for me. I pray that this will be over quickly and that I will stop thinking about Treatment Day, with the vile taste of medicine in my mouth. I pray that my body will continue to respond to treatment. This thing must now be over and done with. Every time that I think about treatment day, I feel nauseous. It is as if I am trying to get it out of my system. I think for the first time in my life, I understand Philippians 3:13-14 better: Brothers and sisters, I do not consider that I have made it my own yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the [heavenly] prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.
I try not to think about how it felt. I am trying to ignore the taste in my mouth. I am trying to continue to function as normally as I can. It is hard, but I try. Yes, I have always been someone to only place pretty pictures on social media, who wants to post pictures without make-up (and in my case without hair too) of themselves on social media? During all of this, I start to understand so many more bible verses better. It just starts to make more sense to me. Only when one goes through something like this, where you are stripped of literally everything and kneel before God with literally with nothing, in prayer and begging Him to let this cup pass you, then, and only then, do you start to realise the true value of life.
The most important to me, in all of this, is to acknowledge and see God in everything in this process. Even if it is not nice. Because of that reason, I decided to share this journey with the world. So that people can see what God can do for them, irrespective of the circumstances that you find yourself in. I think it is normal to be sad, to cry, to beg that this should pass. But God stays in the middle of it all. He brought me to this, and He will carry me. It is not easy for me, but it is what it is.
Thankfully, the smiles on the photos of Heinrich and I are everything but fake. If there is one thing that we have learnt in all of this (and basically any situation that you find yourself in) – you can either sit in a little pathetic heap, swaying back and forth while consuming a can of worms, or you can lie in bed while having movie marathons while you recover and heal. The moment that you feel better and become healthier, then you can get up, shake off the dust that tried to settle and go on. A good sense of humour helps and goes a long way. Normally before every photo, Heinrich does something funny like pull his face in a weird way, so that I cannot help but laugh at him.
My sense of humour is very important to me and helps to carry me through it all. I was extremely sad about my hair, but now I must make the best of it. Poena Potgieter I heard myself say to my husband. He laughed and it is as if everything became normal for us in these circumstances. The little hair stubs irritate me, it feels like Velcro. It clings to my pillow when I move while sleeping.
The half outgrown acrylic nails is even more of an irritation. Small things that I must face frequently, having to deal with it to remember what the end goal is. To be healthy. To do what God wants me to do and be where He needs me to be. Inside the fiery furnace. It is very hot inside that place and one sweats perfusely. I always say sweating like a pig, but I honestly don’t know if pigs can sweat. The story about Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego tells us that they walked out of the fiery furnace alive and they did not smell of smoke, nor did their hair or clothes burn.
The Bible does not say anything about their emotions. Or whether they were sweaty. But the Bible teaches us that they walked out unharmed. This is what I trust God for. To walk out of there with no damage. Yes, I may smell a bit like sweat, but, I will not be scortched and I will not smell of smoke. As I am typing this, I feel the Holy Spirit talking to me, reminding me of the scripture from Philippians. Stop thinking about the Monday that you received treatment… I hear the whispering in my spirit. Stretch out to what lies ahead.
I cannot help but know that everything will work out for the greater good. In spite of everything that happens, how terrible and emotional I feel during Treatment Week, I will be ok. More than ok. In the mean time I must do what I must do to spread God’s word wherever I go. Whether it be at the Oncologist or at any other doctor’s office, God’s word will be spread. With a grateful heart, grateful that I know God and have Him in my life, I want to close off. I have found myself saying over and over, that I do not know how people do it without Him. How does one get through something like this without Him? Then I hear the words from Mercy Me again…Dear Younger Me, It’s not your fault….
