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

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Surrendering to the new normal.

Chemo is hard.  There's a real reason that people have trouble making eye contact with you as they speak of it.  It's like a bad morning sickness.  Nothing tastes right and smells that used to be lovely now turn your stomach.  But I guess it's what you would call a necessary evil. I try to remind myself to be thankful for the battle that now rages inside me.

What came along with all these difficult symptoms this weekend, was the realization that my normal life was slipping away.  That my existence of even one month ago would never come back quite like it had been on those amber-leaved days of Fall 2013. The weather was strange this weekend--some of the darkest fall days I can remember..  All day long felt like evening hanging over us.  As the sun refused to shine, the reality of all of this settled in with a solid thud.
At one point I said to Eric, "I don't want to have to do this."  He said that he had seen that look on my face three times in my life--before delivering each of our children.  He'd do it for me if he could.  I know he would, but I'm on my own for this one.

After a foggy and dark weekend, I forced myself through the motions of a normal Monday morning.  I showered, dressed, woke the kids, made some breakfast and headed out the door with them.  I had things at work that needed my attention and I used that as my reason to keep moving.  I pretended pretty well.  To the untrained eye everything looked normal and it actually felt pretty good.
I still want to snap my fingers and go back.  Back to normal, back to what was, back to naively healthy.  This isn't something new, there are people everywhere who want to snap their fingers and go back, but that's not how God has set it up.  I'm trying really hard to reframe my new normal.  I'm trying to imagine what blessings I might miss out on if I were allowed to magically snap these fingers and leave this all behind.  Would it be better?  It might be easier for the moment, but would the payoff be there for the long haul.  Might I miss being part of some amazing thing.  So for now I'm going to lay my snapping fingers back into my lap and try to face the new normal of today.

Medical notes and prayer requests for those who want to get to the point:
Made it to Day 6 of Round 1.  It looks like days 3-5 will probably be my worst, at least for this round.  Yesterday, I was able to work with a 45 minute nap over lunch.  Today I feel a little post-fluish, but definitely on the upswing.  I know the worst of the tired phase is still on the horizon.
Prayer requests: that I'm through the worst of the sick part of this treatment and that my blood levels stay up for this round.  That I not be exposed to germs, etc. that will knock me backwards.  That my family stays healthy, as well.

Many thanks for the cards, prayers, meals, emails, texts that brighten my day and fill our tummies.  You all have been so good to us and thank you seems like a pretty small phrase in light of it all.
Resting in His peace that passes understanding,


  1. Hi Dawn,
    Thinking and praying for you often. Thanks for reminding me to be thankful for normal. Your posts are really moving.

  2. Your writing is so beautiful and real - thanks so much for making the effort even when you don't feel well. We think and pray for you often. Blessings and hugs!

  3. Thank you, Dawn for taking the time and effort (I know it's an effort) to keep us updated and for letting us know how to pray. May He fill you with unimaginable blessings. Love you girl.

  4. Love knowing the "real," we want nothing different. Lifting you up all the day long in different ways. Praying and believing in faith...on your behalf. Love to you girly!

  5. Professor Mahaffey's sister Mary Bonner is suffering from cancer, also. I find her blog to be very encouraging: I had breast cancer surgery a little over a year ago, so I can relate to your feelings, even though I did not have to have chemo.