Quiet Hours...

This cancer and this treatment are a funny thing.  Not funny in a good way, but funny in a confusing, angry, sickening way.

From last Thursday's treatment

As each week progresses, and as the treatments continue to build up in Rob's body, he is feeling the effects more and more.  The treatment this past Thursday has hit him pretty hard, and has gotten worse each day.  The nausea is ever-present, even though he's on all the nausea meds.  Today he told me that he understands why people opt out of doing any more chemo.  He feels like it's killing him slowly, though it's supposed to be helping.

Rob feels best when he's sleeping.

I was watching him as he slept on the couch this afternoon and early evening, and I was hurting so bad inside for him... for all this that he's having to go through.  Even as I write in these early morning hours, the tears continue to well in my eyes and in my heart.  He is clearly suffering and trying to do it with grace, and with the strength that is still in there somewhere.

It just all seems to be so real in this present moment when most of the world is sleeping, and when I should be, too.  Rob went to bed hours ago.  Sometimes my mind just won't let me go. 

Rob and I continue to share his journey, our journey, for a few reasons...  First, so those of you, family and friends, can stay updated with everything that's going on.  Second, so you can help support others you may know now or in the future who may face this ugly monster... so you can understand, and support, and love them all the more.  And third, it also helps us to get some of the uglies out of our heads, to clear our minds, to soak in the peace and the prayers and the love surrounding us both.

Part of last weeks 'cocktail.'

This is scary, but we're not afraid.

God is giving Rob the strength he needs to remain positive and happy, even though he's feeling so rough inside and out.  And He's giving me the strength to be who Rob needs me to be right now, even though some days I am not a very good example.  It's easy to get mired in the madness of trying to be strong when all you want to do is hide in the dark and cry, or scream at the sky.  Or like trying to be in control when you know you really don't have any at all.  

I am quiet a lot, and I find myself taking slow, deep breaths just to stay balanced.  I once heard a preacher say that when we're inhaling, it's like God's breathing life into us.  And that's what I feel.  He's breathing in life, and He's breathing in strength, and He's breathing in peace.  And that's how I'm getting through these days.

Please keep Rob in your prayers for a relief from the nausea, for the chemo to be destroying any roaming cancer cells, for his continued sense of humor and happy outlook on life.  God has kept Rob wrapped tightly in your prayers, and He will bring good from all of this... some day, somehow.  I have faith.  And Rob does, too.

Be blessed, dear ones.  Don't take any relationship for granted, or any of the blessings that are hiding all around you.  Life can change in an instant, and you never want to feel like you wish you would have loved more, and cared more, and been who you were wonderfully designed to be...  A blessing to those around you.

Yes, it's time to try to sleep now, though a quiet walk out under the stars is sounding good, too.  

'Night.


In Love and Washed in Peace,

Cheri ♥