Sing for the joy that's found in setting up the pins and knocking them down

Monday, November 11, 2013

Rynders, Pity Party of Two

When I decided that writing about my breast cancer would be good medicine for me, I secretly promised myself that I would be honest and open even on the really hard days.

Yesterday was evidently one of those days and truthfully, my cancer isn't even the main plot line.  As most of you know Eric has a genetic heart condition that we've lived with all our married life.  In a nutshell, his heart will never be fixed and most of our focus is upon managing the by-products of his condition--the worst of which is an irregular heart rhythm.  Some people float in and out of these rhythms, but Eric needs to be cardioverted, "shocked", to get out of them.  He has had several ablations (google it), with varying success, and is scheduled to have another one on December 13.  I know--it's one of those situations that polite people only speak of in a whisper "both of them...his heart, her cancer, oh dear."  It's fine, I know it's something that goes through everyone's heads--family, close friends, Facebook stalkers.

So you'll forgive me if talking about the both of us being health risks is a topic I can't settle into.  I'll be honest, I hate it.  When you venture near it, I'll change subjects, say I'm feeling fine or Eric's been doing great, anything to appease that concerned look on your face.  Don't worry that I'm in denial or that I don't fully grasp the peril that my children are in--okay, now I'm just being a little dramatic.  It's like we're both carrying buckets of water.  Some days I help with his and some day he helps with mine.  Some days we glance at each other encouragingly and take care of our own.  This is where our faith comes in.  I believe that our God will not give us one more drop than we can carry.  Are our buckets heavy right now--you better believe it.  Heavier than we've ever imagined.  But in a weird way we've been preparing, exercising our arms and backs,  for this day for a long time.

As we drove to our motherland of Abbot Northwestern Hospital this weekend, I looked out the window and wondered if anyone would ever want to change places with the two of us.  We chuckled and said it was unlikely and then my dear husband reached over put his hand on my knee and said, "I wouldn't want to trade with any of them."

Medical Notes and Prayer Request for those of you who want to get to the point:
Chemo--this Thursday, pray that all the paperwork gets in order and it goes off as scheduled and that my side effects are manageable.
Eric--that his heart stays in rhythm as he transitions to a different med


  1. Love your honesty...your reality. Our Intimate Amazing God is not surprised by all he is asking of you. Praying that the bitter water becomes sweet even as the waters rage! Lifting u up to the Great Physician!

  2. Bravo, Eric! I totally understand your feelings, Dawn. Talking about the troubles seems to make them bigger than they are. You are right to focus on all of the blessings you have - including your wonderful family. We will keep praying for you all. Love you!