Lymph Journal # 28

2/11/2012

Day 2 following round 3 of chemo and I’m enjoying a fairly comfortable day.  I recognize the signs of impending side effects over the course of the next few days – a bit fuzzy in the head aka “chemo brain”, tightness in the chest (no not heart attack just something that lasts a day or two after chemo but I see now why heart and lung evaluation were necessary before starting up chemo), and all sorts of weirdness in the belly region.  Do I dread the days? – well, a bit, they’re not comfortable but it’s part of the deal and overall I guess I’m pleased that I “lose” only 3-4 days out of a fourteen-day cycle.

The past few days have been filled with encouragements and a grudging admission that lymphoma can be counted as one of God’s blessings in my life (and Diane’s as well).  God grows us through the hard stuff.

Grudging because – well, it’s no picnic and I wouldn’t have chosen this path – so I don’t eagerly embrace the time-honored, repeatedly-celebrated, sometimes cliché sounding truth that we are to “count it (all trials, etc.) all joy”.  But, darn it, I’m finding it to be true. 

But, why a blessing?  Well, first the internal effects of going through this disease and treatment are profound.  Facing the immediacy of possible death and/or the seriousness of heavy-duty medicine have a way of concentrating the mind and heart on things of importance – that should come as no big news to any of you who have walked such a path.  Back in my grade eight public school classroom I used to have posted on the wall this: Momento Mori meaning “Remember, you must die” and used sometimes as a label for reminders of mortality found in works of art.  It took the students about a month to ask me why it was up there and what it meant at which point I’d explain the literal meaning and offer them the perspective that you ought to consider mortality when you figure out how to go about living your life.  Cheery guy me, but I always thought it a good life lesson.

I’m not big into the more mystical aspects of religious practice – I respect those traditions but have never been one to seek out ascetic retreats or feel that incense could somehow enhance my prayer life – again, this is not meant to malign such practice, it just hasn’t been mine.  But, I’ve got to tell you now, with a few weeks perspective, I found my first round of chemo (day 2 heavy chemical day) to be one of the most profoundly mystical experiences of my life.  It was a time of deep worship.  Plugged into my music, listening mainly to Rich Mullins tunes (he had a deep appreciation for the eternal perspective – even deeper now, I suppose, having “crossed over” himself) I reveled in the truths of God’s promises. 

And then I got peeled. 

I’ll say it here, disagree with me if you will, but we’re all messed up and we’re all at different places on that road to getting more or less messed up.  I am messed up and chemo day helped by peeling me.  Think about the discussion between Shrek and Donkey in the original Shrek movie.  Shrek maintained ogres were like onions – they have a lot of layers and Donkey, insisting on a more positive spin suggested that one could be like a cake or a parfait – you could have layers but not stink.  Shrek stuck to his guns – he had onion layers and he was right.  I have/had layers that are/were more onion than parfait.  We all do.  Prideful disguises, artful dodges, secret protected weaknesses and sin, fears and insecurities, old hurts and baggage – man the list can go on and on and I could check of a number of these less that delightful items.  But that day, facing the awesomeness of my God’s tenacious, terrifying and absolutely tender love and in the light of the circumstances I got peeled – that’s the best way I can describe it.  I could almost feel the layers gently being torn away.  I am far from perfect, far from finished and I wish I could better articulate this but I am so thankful for it.

Why else has lymphoma been a blessing?  Well, back to the encouragements of just the past few days.  We’ve had all sorts of notes, emails, dropped off treats and CDs or DVDs, packages in the post, etc. just in these past three days.  I even got assurances from a former BFA student/staff person who now is an international flight attendant that, seeing as the inhabited continents were all covered, she’d cover s in prayer over various oceans.  All these things are buoying but the best pearls within them are when people reveal how our journey through all this is impacting or has impacted them.  I deeply appreciate hearing these things from friends, family, students and the like.  It brings joy and reveals God’s wider purposes in this to some degree.  We can see God working in us and in other people and that is marvelous.

So we’ll do our best to count it all joy – and we’re seeing just how, unlikely as it is humanly speaking, God’s providing the signposts to get there.