Always Darkest Before the Dawn

Well, we have good days, and we have bad days. Then we have worse days. Last week sucked. We both feel as if we are prisoners to this stuff. I figure they call it Interferon because it interferes with your life. Even a mundane task like going to the grocery store is difficult. Going anywhere is difficult.

I have cabin fever. John could probably go for weeks without going anywhere (except church) but I can't. I have a form of agoraphobia. If I stay home for too long, then I won't go anywhere. Make that, can't go anywhere. I become so afraid of getting out of my little cocoon that I can't do it. Fortunately I work. That gets me out every weekday. Heaven forbid I stay home even a single day due to sickness. I'm afraid that will all that's going on I won't go back to work. And I like my job. But right now I feel trapped. Work, home, work, home, church, work, home. An endless cycle.

Well, only 21 weeks more.

Lord, help me.

Surviving

Well, this week has been much better, though my poor John had to take one day off of work because he was so exhausted. We've been trying to go on with life as normal, but once in a while it just catches up. At least this Saturday we have no errands to run, or chores to do, or anything else. I'm planning to take it easy myself and maybe just sleep. We both need more of that.

Golly, week three is almost over.

To the Edge of Hell

Last night was the second injection; what a difference. John slept through the night. He woke up with a headache and the achy feeling, but nothing like before. We can probably handle this. I doubt it will get any worse now. The long-term effects will be monitored by the doctor and can be treated. Anemia is the one they worry most about. And he may not experience that. If the week follows it's course, he will feel a little beter each day until Wenesday or Thursday he is almost normal. Fridays will be good, until injection time. Life will go on, and with the Lord's help, it will not be so bad.

Another Day in Paradise

Gosh, isn't it amazing how we can feel cheerful one moment, and like the world has ended the next. Had a busy day at work yesterday, which didn't help my mood any, then got home only to find that poor John wasn't in a great mood, either. After we both snapped at each other I found myself sitting in the backyard, trying very hard not to cry. I did good until he came out - and apologized for snapping at me. Then I just burst. It was good to finally get some of it out, and maybe that's what I've needed all along. Maybe instead of trying to be brave and not cry I need to just cry once in a while.

We had a good little talk, nothing heavy, I just told him how I had been feeling. How was he ever to know if I don't say anything and I keep the stiff upper lip going? (Guess the Brittish part of my ancestry comes out once in a while.)

Don't know how tonight will go, this it the 7th night; tomorrow he takes injection 2. It feels as if it has been months. Only 162 more days to go.

God help us.

Another Day

Well, I made it through the night. A little cry in the bathroom helps. Today is a new day and my devotional this morning was a good, uplifting one about how mountaintop moments don't last, but they do give you a chance to see the big picture. Well, I could use a mountaintop right now, but at least I feel more positive this morning. The valleys don't last, either.

I've decided to go on with life as normal. If I have to I can walk the dog by myself, or cut the lawn, or even go to the market. What I can't do is remain a prisoner to this treatment. Life cannot go on hold for six months. When I get one of those alone feelings, I just have to remind myself that God is with me, I am not alone, feelings shouldn't dictate my actions.

As for John, it's his life and how he chooses to spend the next six months is truly up to him. As for me, I think I'll walk the dog when I get home tonight.

Time

We are on the 4th day of John's treatment, with 164 more to go, plus however many it takes to get the Interferon/Ribavirin out of his system. I'm not sure how I'm going to make it. I already find myself having thoughts of leaving (though I know I wouldn't). I feel like I'm living by myself and just have someone in for dinner. Until bedtime, then I have a companion who needs lots of babying. (And he gets it.)

It's 5:05 pm - time to go home. Well, this is where my faith gets tested.

"the substance of things hoped for"

One of my favorite Scriptures is one that my dear friend, Lovey McCarthy, taught me. "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." ~Hebrews 11:1

Let me tell you, that verse has gotten me through some rough times. Not only does it give me hope when I'm "wishing" for something that everyone around me says is foolish, but it gives me strength when I'm faced with an obstacle that seems impassable. On the other side of whatever I'm facing is always the hope of heaven.

These next six months have the potential to be hell, or just a little rough. A lot of what happens depends on John and I - how we view the situation. Friends mean well, but sometimes in their helping they make it worse. We really don't need to hear horror stories about how bad the treatment was for them, or a relative, or a friend. What we need to hear is that they are praying for us, or thinking of us, or just plain willing to be there for us.

We don't need much, just a hug once in a while, or a phonecall to say "how are things" or maybe just a smile. What we need is just what we need all of the time, for a friend to be a friend.

Another Zoo

Santa Barbara this time. A great little zoo, tucked into the hills beside the ocean at the Southern edge of Santa Barbara. Plenty of cute little animals (meerkats, penguins, birds) and enough large exotic ones (lions, leopards, elephants) to make it worth the drive.

We were serenaded by Penguins honking - loudly - black and white ruffed lemurs "barking" for attention -

and Rhinocerous Hornbills making so much racket that you couldn't think. It was great!

Depression

After being on a "high" most of the day, tonight I'm about as depressed and worried as I can get. Being diabetic makes your emotions turn into a roller coaster. :-) Well, guess I'd better start to enjoy the ride.

John and I both had the past week off, so we spent it together going places we usually don't have the time for. The Getty Center, Hollywood Bowl, Santa Barbara Zoo, and the Griffith Observatory. I think during this next 6 months of John's treatment we need to continue doing these things. Even once a month, just go somewhere or do something fun. Just do it, and take the time even if it means taking off from work. Sometimes we all neglect our emotional health. I think it's time John and I started taking care of ours.

Made it Through

Well, another month has begun. The year is half-way over. And we have some major hurdles to face in the next six months. Besides John's Hep C treatment, we also have the probate of my mother's estate to finalize. Things seem to be going well, and our lawyer is a dream. Patience is all that is needed now. And lot of prayer.

Order of Service

Well, the service began on time, and that was the last thing that went according to plan. First Pastor asked everyone to share one blessing from the week - which even in our small group takes time. Then about the time the sermon should have started, we began the actual service. I kept the praise and lost the hymns, forgot all about making any announcements, and then turned it over to the Assistant Pastor for the morning prayer. After that we went right into the sermon.

It was wonderful. So we ran over a little. That is not unusual. That Pastor almost forgot communion is odd, but with a little reminder it went on just fine. And then we had a BBQ on the patio to honor all those having birthdays this month. It was a good Sunday. It was HOT. But it was a good Sunday.

And it was Worship. We all forgot going through the usual motions and simply let it flow, led by the Spirit. Worship. Every church ought to try it sometime.