Lessons on Living With Stage 4 Cancer

 

    Apologies, I'm not sure how, but I failed to publish this particular blog post. I wrote it the week following Easter, which means it is dreadfully out of date, but, hey, here's proof that I haven't completely forgotten about blogging! 😁

Enjoying Easter desert with both sets of parents.

We are so grateful for their prayers!

Yes, you read that correctly, Ken is living with Stage IV cancer. I mean, technically we are all dying a little each day as we count down the moments to our last days on earth, but you can and should live with Stage IV cancer. 

It's been an interesting exercise in purposeful living. When a family friend was diagnosed with brain cancer many years ago, the Tim McGraw song "Live Like You Were Dying" was a hit, and while the overall message is good, it's really not that simple. First, we would run out of money very, very quickly! 🤑 Second, it's exhausting. Seriously! The pressure of living every minute to it's fullest, of staying mindful in each moment can be crushing. Who wants to be reminded that you're dying with each breath you take?!? So we've decided to live. Oh, it took a while to get to this point (like about a year), but we've learned some pretty vital lessons along the way. 

We are fragile human beings. Ken still requires at least one nap a day, usually in the morning. I'm not talking about a 20 minute cat nap (hmmm, our cat sleeps for hours at a time, so I'm not sure where the phrase originated), but rather a rest that usually spans over 2 hours. On occasion he has had to miss these naps and it's never a good thing.😴 But our fragility goes beyond our need for physical rest, we discovered that when life is chucking lemons at you hard enough to leave bruises, your capacity to handle life's circumstances shrinks. Dramatically. We use the term "bandwidth" to denote our ability to take on more, both physically and emotionally. Bandwidth is not static, and when it's not available, disaster is inevitable. Let me give you an example: If Ken has an afternoon appointment, then has a social event in the evening, the next day is a total right off. I'm still a little piqued that we didn't think to purchase a TV while I was going through my cancer journey; Ken knows enough about WW II, cruise ships and airplanes to write several books, I'm sure! So yeah, the day following a bandwidth crises is usually a "slack on the sofa" kinda' day. 

Sometimes I wonder if this journey has just made us more cognizant of our frailties; that they've always existed, we just ran roughshod over any warning signs of burnout. In the past, the first 3-4 days of any vacation were called "letdown" days, not cool when your vacation is only a week long! It took that long to slow down our usual frenetic pace of life. As you may imagine, going from working 83 hours/week to 0 has not been easy for Ken. I'm having the time of my life, wallpapering anything that isn't moving and growing enough seedlings to supply the church, but Ken is different; he needs daily contact with the outside world. I think that's weird, but whatever! 🤷🏼‍♀️

Speaking of church, I finally made it back last Sunday. No, I haven't turned into a "Submarine Christian," only popping up and Christmas and Easter, I finally felt like I had the emotional bandwidth. And, even more importantly, I felt comfortable leaving Ken at home for that amount of time. No, he doesn't need a babysitter, but anxiety is a thief that likes to rob a person of rational thought. Frankly, given the events of the past 4 years, it's not exactly irrational to worry that something will happen to me when I'm out and about! Yes, we still trust in Jesus, and yes, we usually have "the peace that passes understanding," (also known as "the peace that makes others think we're bonkers, given the present circumstances), but that doesn't mean we are constantly floating through life on a cloud of bliss. Nah, that's reserved for eating a Lindt Hazelnut Bunny. I liken it to rock climbing, even though I've never taken part, I imagine that looking down from halfway up Mount Namuska might be slightly terrifying and I'm sure your heart rate accelerates like a Ferrari when your foot slips, but then you feel the harness stop your unplanned descent and all is well; you remember "Duh, I can't fall!" It's similar when walking with God. He doesn't promise us smooth sailing, actually, John 16:33b says, “In this world you will have trouble." However, the first part of the verse states, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace." while the last part of the verse encourages us, "But take heart! I have overcome the world.” 🥰

So why become a Christian if you're not sheltered from all the bad stuff in life? Honestly, at the risk of sounding lame, it's actually hard to explain. Knowing that God has my back and has promised to never, ever leave me is an indescribable feeling! This is God, you know, the One who created the earth, raised Jesus from the dead, etc, etc, HE is my Father. When I'm feeling as strong as wet RV toilet paper, He holds me up. I don't have to pretend I've got it all together, which is a good thing since I don't, and lying is bad. 😇 Philippians 4:6-7 says, "Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." It doesn't say "Do not be anxious about anything...then the peace of God...will guard your heart." God promises to guard our hearts. That's amazing!  Oh sure, we have to ask Him for help, but that's a pretty natural impulse. (Watch enough "Mayday" you'll know what I mean. 😊)