Thoughts

What's on tap this week ...

- I successfully completed Day One of my Chore-Challenge, with Monday being Wash Day. I guess that's kind of like cheating, though, because Monday has always been wash day for me, so it was really no different than my other Mondays. Today will be the real challenge: dusting and vacuuming. I mean, really dusting -- moving things off shelves and putting them back on, etc. Sounds like loads of fun. Maybe I'll find my cell phone.

- Yes, I lost my cell phone last week. Last Sunday, to be exact. I was charging it up right before we left for church in the morning. That's the last I remember actually seeing it. I know that I picked it up when it was done charging and turned it off (there's nothing more annoying than cell phones going off in church -- "Sorry, God, gotta take this call. Just hold that thought"). I think I then put it in my purse as we went out the door, but when I went to retrieve it from my purse the next day it wasn't there. Did I lose it in church? I didn't see how that could happen, plus I checked this past Sunday and no one had seen it. I have a sneaking feeling that my daughter rummaged around my purse and snatched it, but where it could be (in the house) is a mystery. It's a small, two-bedroom apartment, but you'd be surprised where kids can hide something. Maybe I should employ one of Aidan's "magical prayers" ...

- Last week was a "vacation" on the cancer front. While the break from doctors was refreshing, the waiting drives you crazy. Today things pick up again with a visit to the doctor who will put my mom's "port" in -- a device that gets inserted right under the collar bone with a tube or something that leads directly to the heart. For the chemotherapy treatments, she'll get hooked up and the nasty stuff will go into the port, to her heart, and distributed throughout her body. With all the advances in medicine, why couldn't they come up with something less barbaric? Ugh. But today is just a visit with the doctor. More waiting ...

- Tomorrow is a meeting with the second-opinion oncologist. Apparently my mom's oncologist strongly recommended seeing someone else, because he has never seen this particular type of cancer before. At least he's honest. He came up with a game plan -- I guess he wants to make sure this other guy concurs. More waiting ...

- Thursday is a meeting with her primary oncologist, I guess to go over the results of the second opinion and finalize the game plan.

- Monday is the big day: the first chemo treatment. No one is looking forward to this -- it's beyond nasty. She has her wigs out, ready to go, as well as her little turbans and other head coverings. I'm gearing myself up for cooking lots of meals (probably more for my dad than for my mom, who won't want to eat much of anything) and doing whatever chores they need me to do. I'm OK with that -- I just don't want to see my mom sick.

As I'm writing this I'm starting to feel some things bubble up -- emotions that I don't think I'm letting myself really feel. I think they're somewhere in the realm of self-pity and resentment. Very human, very honest. Yes, let me say it: I resent this major detour on my journey. Or I guess it's not even a detour -- it's what my journey is supposed to look like. But it stinks. We've lived through a nightmare (again -- I've lost count), and we came home for healing. So what's this? There are times when I feel so fragile, I can't even imagine how I'm going to get through all of this cancer stuff. I'm no good to others if I feel like I'm going to fall apart in the blink of an eye. Instead of healing, we get sickness. Our summer has been filled with worry and heartache, instead of joy and healing and strength-gaining. Our autumn is going to be filled with anxiety and illness, rather than fresh smiles and new beginnings. My mom's last treatment is Dec. 31 -- New Year's Eve. I am not going to say, "Oh, next year just has to get better. We'll get through this, and 2008 will be a turnaround year." I've stopped saying things like that about five years ago.

OK -- I've indulged my bleak thoughts this morning. Time to wash my face and get my day started. I'm going to tackle my Chore-Challenge. I'm going to fill up our big inflatable pool and let this horrible heat warm up the water for a swim later today (I use the sword "swim" loosely - more like "splash around"). I'm going to visit our urban farmer friend's Veggie Garage to see what fresh treats I can find (yes, it's what it sounds like: she farms in an urban setting, she opens her garage, she sells her harvest). Lord, give me strength and bring me through this valley of shadows ...