Teardrops & Healing

The past few months my nights have not been restful.  My sleep patterns are not consistent and this past week has been a week without much sleep at all.  If I am lucky I will have about 2-3 hours uninterrupted, but other than that I am up a lot.  Sleep has become quite an elusive animal.  Typically it is worse on a week when we have a doctor’s appointment, such as we had at HSC this past Friday.  I was very anxious about this one because we would be getting the results of the MRI that was taken in Winkler the day that Wes was released from the hospital.  We arrived at HSC, Wes had his blood drawn and then we walked back into the Brain Tumor Clinic to wait our turn.  It came quickly and we had our normal pre-appointment chat and laughter with our nurse and then waited for our doctor to come in.  Long story short, the results from his MRI were somewhat inconclusive.  Our doctor has ordered another MRI to be done in Winnipeg in October, one that is more extensive and hopefully offers us some answers.  As the doctor asked questions about the night of Wes’ seizures he slowly rolled his chair closer to us and the compassion in his eyes combined with going back to that time was somewhat overwhelming for me. Every question he asked brought back memories and emotions from that night and the tears began to roll.  He handed me tissues and continued the questions.  I knew he was looking for details that could give him some glimpse into the severity of the seizures.  I apologized and said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me!”  He quietly said, “It’s ok! You’ve been through a lot!” and our conversation continued.  So, right now we don’t have any answers or any big next steps until we get the results of that next MRI.  So, Wes will begin his Temozolomide (chemo) this week, which is cycle 4 and then comes the MRI to see if the chemo is still attacking the tumor.  If the tumor does show signs that it is continuing to shrink then our doctor felt that he would like to try approaching Mayo Clinic one more time to see if they would be willing to treat Wes.  So, we hold onto the hope that the chemo is working.

Over the past two weeks Wes and I have had a few conversations about his week in the hospital.  There are bits and pieces that he remembers, but, the seizures?  He has virtually no recollection of them.  So, he asks again and again to gain an understanding of what I saw and what his body experienced.  And I understand that, it would bother me too if I had a chunk of my life missing from my memory, so the door to talk about this time of his journey is always open even though it is an extremely hard place to return to time and time again.  It’s not easy, for either of us. 

This past weekend I was struggling, but today, Monday, has been a very emotional day, my heart has been in turmoil all day.  I drove Wes to work this morning, trying to hide my tears from him, but I don’t think I hid them very well.  Maybe if I had had my sunglasses on, that would have helped, but probably not.  After I dropped him off I stopped in at the church to quickly do a couple of things and poor Dave, our church custodian simply asked if I was putting in some extra time on a Monday now.  I tried to explain what I was doing there, completely lost my words and broke down as I walked away to the sound booth.  I  gathered my thoughts or so I thought, slowly made my way back into my office, closed the door and let the tears and the pain loose. 

A few days ago I met a friend in Wal-Mart and we chatted for quite a while and before we parted ways we hugged and she said, “You are a strong woman!”  This past week and particularly today I did not feel like that strong woman.  Today I felt as though I was drowning in grief and pain.  I could feel my head and my heart going under and I couldn’t seem to come up for air.

I finished my work at the church and headed to Morden.  After our appointment last week I realized that if we were to suddenly go to Mayo our passports were set to expire in November and would need to be renewed.  More paperwork.  I walked into the government office and managed to ask the questions I needed to ask without incident and then it happened.  She simply asked if there was any urgency in us getting our passports renewed.  A normal, basic question that broke the dam open, I tried so hard to hold that dam together, but to no avail.  Poor girl had no idea what hit her.  I stuttered, “We may need to travel to Mayo clinic and I want to make sure our passports were up to date!”  Well, it was something like that in-between hiccups and wiping my eyes with my sleeve.  She bravely explained what I needed to do, I took the papers she offered, thanked her and walked out.  Poor girl!

I went grocery shopping and that went pretty much without incident, except for a warm and loving hug from a friend, but then on the way home the dam gave way again and I felt lost. 

So, why am I telling you this?  I’m sharing this because I want you to know that one day when you have to walk into that dark place, that day when you feel like you don’t know how you’re going to put one foot in front of the other, I want you to know that you’ll be ok, the darkness will feel endless in the moment, but the light is coming.  I want you to understand that tears will be a huge part of the process of grief and even a part of the fight and they will be a part of your healing and even more important your tears will break down a little bit more of who you are to let in a lot more of who God is.  Don't be ashamed, but, embrace your moments of weakness as a step in growing stronger.  You’re not stronger because you don’t cry, you’re stronger because you say, “God in my weakness I desperately need your strength!” 

God’s gift of deliverance to us is not a promise of life without pain; it is the promise that when the pain comes as it will for all of us, he will always be there and that his presence in the midst of our pain is his gift to us as our Father.  We do not walk through the valley of the shadow of death alone...ever!  I’m not saying walk around like a hot mess all the time, but be ok with times of letting go of who you think you need to be in the situation you’re in and hold tight to the fact that God is right there with you.  And he is exactly who you need him to be in that moment.  

  I love my husband more than I could ever explain to you.  I will fight with everything that is in me to keep him around for as long as possible and I will do whatever is necessary to get him the help he needs.  And I know that when my defenses are down and I’m feeling a bit lost I have amazing friends and family who are praying.  There times when I want to be alone with God to hear his voice and to soak in his love, but I also know that God purposely puts people in my path at just the right moment for a hug or a word of encouragement, a timely email or text are an amazing balm to a heart that is tired and sore and I believe and yes, I know that God will continue to tap people on the shoulder and say, “Today she needs your prayers and your support!”  He knows what we need before we even ask!  And I know that he loves Wes even more than I do, which is a lot of love!

So, today has been a struggle, well, maybe not so much a struggle as a cleansing.  A cleansing of built up stress and lack of sleep and who knows by tomorrow I may be feeling stronger and more like myself again, ready to pick up the fight once more.  I know I won't stay in this moment, there's too many good things happening around me to stay stuck in the mud.  So, it's an ebb and flow, that is the best way I can describe our lives right now.  Ebb and flow...ebb and flow. And still, one day at a time, sometimes in the valley, sometimes on the mountain top, but, never ever alone.

“Jesus wept” - John 11:35

That says it all for me.