A Rough-around-the-edges Kind of Day

I am finding these days lately to be filled with apprehension.  Rob and I don't know what to expect.  We find things out we didn't know about.  But the one good thing is that we are learning to roll with the punches.
  
You may remember that Rob had a lot of pain with his first IV chemo treatment last week.  Well, there was still a bit of redness left today, enough to concern our nurse, Julie, who also brought in our nurse from last week, Kim.  They called Rob's oncologist, who called in an antibiotic, just to make sure it's not an infection, as that is not something he needs right now.

Another possibility is that, due to the strength of the chemo drugs, his veins may not be able to tolerate them, in which case they will surgically implant a port to administer future treatments.  So today, they put the IV in his opposite hand, and we are thrilled to say that so far, there was not the reaction we had last week.  Yeah!  Smile!

They checked Rob's blood again today just prior to starting the chemo, and all looked good to go.  Apparently, today's IV (and next week's, too) will be the ones that will start causing his "numbers" to fall... red and white blood cells, platelets...  So I will be keeping him sequestered and sanitized even more than before.  I am the army surrounding him, and I will fight to protect him.

It was a shorter stay at the hospital today, because there were only two IV bags, along with the potassium drips before and after.  We spent the time reading and talking  --  and taking more pictures. :)

Rob's been experiencing increasing nausea, even with all the meds he's on.  The heartburn continues, but not too bad.  And he's so tired.  So tired.  When we got home today, he laid down to rest, and didn't get up until after 7pm.  When he came into the kitchen, he said he felt like he just smoked a whole pack of cigarettes non-stop.  He said he felt, "dried out and crispy" inside.  No energy.  His voice has changed... it has a bit of a raspier, more airy sound than normal.  For a while now.  And I can tell by the inflections in his voice that the struggle he's having with recall are upsetting him, to say the least.

The other day he looked at me and said, "They better not be killing me."  He says he can 'feel' all of these foreign things in his body.  He doesn't feel 'right.'  (O, Lord God, please take away the fear and the poison and the anger and the monster.)

I told a family member the other day, "This is not where we saw ourselves, not even anything we could have imagined in the life we had planned."  And it's not.  

But we have to look at this differently.  

Although it may seem bad and scary and heavy on the outside (and yes, sometimes on the inside), it's the struggles in this life that make us stronger.  They help us to learn, they help us to appreciate and love, they help us to help others in compassion because we've walked the walk.  And we'll be better because of it.  We are not here for ourselves.  

I will, I'm sure, still have those times in the quiet where I can't stop the tears or the fears.  But they will be times where I don't blame God or get angry, but rather curl up in His arms and rest.  And He will rock me, and encourage me, and comfort me.  And then stand me back on my feet, stronger than before, and urge me to go out in love.  And I will.

So we don our armor, and dare this Goliath to try and break through.  And in all this, we smile.  Because we are still here, together, and even in this battle for life as we know it, no matter what, we win.

Please keep Rob in your continuing prayers for strength and for healing, for a positive outlook, and for peace.  God-washing peace. 

It means everything to us both.  Yes... everything.

In Love and In Peace,

Cheri ♥