New chemo.... START!

Newest Video: Me talking while in the hospital... my first night. Sorry, video cannot be watched through iPhone or iPads because of the music.



Falling for the first time
Saturday, October 26, 2013

Noel's going to pick up my meds.  Yup, more medications.  There's like 3 or 4 types for nausea alone.  Yikes!  I'm so medicated right now up and down, left and right are kind of difficult to place.  Everything's all kinda floaty and fuzzy. 

Where are my keys?  Poor hubby is looking everywhere upstairs.  Maybe I have the keys by the door?  Getting up, I stroll over to the kitchen.  Maybe I have my keys by the garage door?

*blink blink*

Why am I sitting on the floor?  I find my hand clutching my right cheek and neck.  How come?  What happened?  What was I going for?  Why does my cheek and neck ache?  I see the oven in front of me, steel handles gleaming.  I hear hissing.  Is the stove on?  I see no fire.  In the distance, I hear Noel's voice... ummmmm, why do I hear so much worry?  That's not like him.

Time flows.  A second pass or a minute?  I can't tell anymore.  Noel is beside me, his voice a little panicky "What happened?"

Still feeling light, my voice replying in the distance: "I don't know.  I tried to search for my keys and somehow I am on the floor."  Still dazed, my ears search for the sound of hissing.  Noel must have noticed the hissing as well.  His eyes scan the stove top knobs, one is skewed and turned on.  With his right hand, he turns off the stove, his left arm still cradling me.  Ummmm, did my cheek or neck turn on the stove?  Maybe.  I must have hit something.  *shrug*  Glad I didn't get cut.  The doctors are really big on getting an infection and cuts right now.

Did I black out?  I've never lost consciousness before.  Usually, I'm proud to say that can gauge when my blood pressure falls too low and lean my body forward to recover.  Must be all the medications.  Guess I can't trust myself to monitor my own body when everything's so "not quite here" feeling.  Bleah... there goes my "I can do it" and "I'm not a fall risk"... right out the window.

Father God, thank you for this safe learning experience.  As I learn my body's new boundaries and reactions, thank you for keeping my safe.  Thank you that Noel was there to turn off the gas stove.  Thank you that I didn't get cut.  Thank you that I didn't fall down the stairs.

Lord, you know I hate being this weak, this dependent... but I can still move.  I can still think... barely... but I'm here.  Each day after chemo, my mind becomes more clear.  I dread going back and getting my next treatment round... but Lord, whatever you want.  I told you that and I mean it.  Just... keep giving me the strength, hope and courage to take each step with confidence.  Continue to guide the doctors so they can help heal me and not mess me up more.  Help me be aware of my body and symptoms that the doctors should know to provide the best treatment possible.

Father God, thank you for everyone around me... without everyone you've placed in my life, I don't think I could live this joyfully, this hopefully, this securely.

So, Lord, I lift your name in praise and thank you for helping me trudge on in my unexpected life you've given me to live.

In Jesus' name, amen.

Pic by Stephen.  Resting after a short walk in our community.

Mental War

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Sleepy.  Everyday, I wake up a little more tired.  A little less energy.  A little less motivated to move.  Get up!  Kristy... You can't let yourself get stuck here.  I've just started chemotherapy, this is only my first round of 5... So much more to go.  I'm barely out of the starting gate!  If I stop moving now, I'll never be able to carry myself to the end.

Mouth dry.  My breath stinks.  The sink feels so far away.  The energy needed to brush my teeth... Give me some time to re-energize, I'll make it.  I really can't complain.  I'm given room service, share a room with a lady in such a way we don't clash.  The bathroom contains a shower and toilet on my side, her side contains the sink. I even requested a stationary bike and have one in my room which overlooks a lush green garden.  Cool mist coats the leaves.  A slight breeze stirs the leaves.  No birds, no squirrels, but I'm sure they're there.

The care I get is great, but nothing beats being at home. I constantly compare: hospital versus home... Besides "home" being my own private place with everything set-up just the way I like... The hospital's not so different... at least, that's what I try to tell myself.  I've got a bed to sleep in, lots of pillows to cuddle with, internet access... Naw, it's not the same. Here at the hospital, I'm told what to take and when.  My skin is examined in detail by strangers for pressure ulcers.  My urine is constantly being monitored.  My every meal is examined. The IV machine constantly clicks, tailing me wherever I go.  Hospital staff walk in and out as I take a shower, even a change of clothing requires assistance to disconnect the lines attached to my chest.

I keep telling myself... this situation isn't so bad.  I'm mostly awake, I'm stable enough to ride a stationary bike, I can take a shower by myself without help, I can eat without throwing up, I'm able to perform exercises in bed and out... Now, when do I leave this plush cage?  Tomorrow!!!  I totally can't wait!

Lord Father, I'm not sure what I'm doing here.  Getting chemotherapy... getting sicker to get better.  Part of me understands the logical reasons for going through this whole process, but another part of me just wants to stop this whole chemotherapy and let things be.  This fight is both physical and mental.  I'm not sure which is harder to deal with.

Father in Heaven, please give me strength.  The strength to see beyond where I am and what I'm currently experiencing.  Help me focus on the future, the next step, to stay cheerful, to have hope and purpose in you. God, this life doesn't feel much like living.  Imprisoned.  Chained.  Please help me see beyond these walls.

In Jesus' name I pray, amen.

Got IV?

Black and White

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Today, I actually had the most energy in a long time!  Such a huge blessing.  Unfortunately, I overdid my list of activities, got super tired and snapped at Noel.  Poor Noel... I'm fine one minute then grouchy the next with no warning at all.  *sheepish grin*  My attitude when I'm tired or not feeling well is not something I'm proud of.  I'm blessed that God gave me Noel who more than puts up with my wild mood swings.

On a totally different tangent, I'm really dreading Monday.  Bright and early, I'll start my chemotherapy.  My doctor assures me I for sure won't be able to work. *cringe*  Really?  I was told that attempting to work through my first rounds of chemo with Taxotere and Gemzar was going to be tough... but with God's help, I still worked through that period of my life.  Why not this time as well?

My sarcoma doctor looks me straight in the eyes.  Gently and firmly, she states: "This time will be different." 

"Different?  Is it really going to be that bad?"

Nodding her head, my doctor's quiet affirmation sends a wave so cold that time stops.  Wide eyed, I ask... "for how long?'

"You will spend 5 days in the hospital, rest 2 weeks at home.  There will be 5 rounds.  Your hair will start falling out in about 10 days.  You will be nauseous, fatigued, in pain.  We will give you meds.  If you ever have a fever of 100.3 or higher, go to the emergency room.  An infection can kill you."

So yeah... I'm worried.  I'm dreading these next 4 months... but what can I do? Nothing really.  I told God that I will trust him to lead my doctors.  It doesn't matter even if the chemotherapy is unsuccessful.  I believe the most important choice I make is to follow through with the journey God wants me to go through... for his glory and his purpose.  Not mine.

How much more will my body get messed up?  This recent surgery already drew me further into an emotional pit of despair than anything ever before.  I know my future will hold a deeper level of difficulty, harder challenges, more pain. *shudder*

May God be glorified through my life because I will have nothing left of "myself."  My identity as a physical therapist, female paintball player, leader serving at church... everything and anything I ever could label as "this who and what Kristy is" becomes obsolete.  These are things Kristy may never be able to do again.

To believe that I cannot contribute, help, work, or even function properly... I feel useless.  I feel as if I won't have a life if I can't do anything.  So what's left?  My past glories?  Bleh, living in the past has no hope, no future, no life.  My attitude?  Ummm... my attitude's really poor when I don't feel well.  Careful, I bite.  Only thing left is my identity in Jesus Christ.  I will have nothing left of myself.  Stripped bare and back to basics... I'm scared beyond words. 

Talk about diving in head-first huh?  Barely getting my footing from my surgery in August, now this new scary chemo. But ya know what?  I'll get to see God so clearly again and again and again.  My life will suck so bad that I will have little to no control and power of my own.  But, I will be blessed by being able to clearly experience the reality of having God in my life.  Money, will-power, independence, brains, strength... none of these things gain me access to God.  In fact, because all these things will be lost, taken away from me, I will need God as I never have before. 

Everytime I tell myself "this is as bad as it gets.  This is as much as I can possibly take."  I'm proved wrong.  By the power of God the Father, Jesus Christ, Holy Spirit... one God... I am blessed to see how I am so loved, so cared for... a blessing no money, no time, no amount of hard work can ever buy.  By the strength and provision of my Lord, I am where I am today.  Alive.  Hopeful.  Continually challenging the chains and restrictions of this body. 

Only in the deepest blackness of my heart and mind can I appreciate the purest white of God's presence.

May the full peace and love of Christ light your path and bring you joy as he has mine.

October 14: North Shore (Oahu) eating shaved ice with natural fruit topping.  So ono (yummy).

October 18:  Just enough energy to enjoy an archery lesson gifted by my brother.  So fun!

Maui, Hawaii

Monday, October 7, 2013

Mask, check.  Snorkel, check.  Flippers, check.  I don't need anything else right?  *shrug*

Tentatively, I step forward, awkwardly maneuvering my enlarged flipper feet in the loose sand.  Wave after wave slide along the sand, eroding my base of support.  Suddenly, a larger wave crashes into me.  Tumbling and rolling, fighting to stay upright, bubble and air, water, sunlight, sand.  One last roll and I find myself sitting chest deep in water.  Well, I'm in.  No use backing out now.

Mask sealed tight, snorkel clenched between my teeth, I plunge my face into the water.  Hesitantly, I take my first breath.  Fresh air flows in.  Relief!  Breathing with my face submerged is unnatural.  Quelling my rising panic, I force myself to relax.  Softening tension-filled muscles, I allow myself to rock with each passing swell.  Now, another breath, stay relaxed, keep floating. Slowly, kicking my flippers for forward propulsion, I join my sister and youngest brother.

Silver, black, red, yellow... long, thin, sleek or bulky, ignoring all human presence, fishes of all sizes and colors swim and feed below.  Corals and thick-spinned sea urchins sit on scraggly rock surfaces.  Under a choppy ocean surface, clear ribbons of light thread through calm and playful waters.  Soft blue liquid churns white, infused with a screen of bubbles as wave after wave crashes against solid black rock walls.  A large sea turtle glides below, a rising of the head up then down, a single strong stroke of front flippers and the turtle quietly disappears under a rocky ledge.

Staring in wonder, I don't know how much time has passed.  Looking up, I see that the rest of my family is present.  My other brother is now here as well. Surprisingly, besides my dad is my mom. Wow, she actually made it out in these choppy waters!  Floating, we come together as a family.  It’s been many years since our last family vacation... I miss this, the memories of before and the new memories we create together now.

Thank you, Father God, for allowing me a fun-filled, exciting day of fun at the beach.  Thank you for giving me the strength to casually float and watch your amazing creations under water for close to 2 hours!  Lord, I know my body isn't normal anymore and that this one day of fun will cost me for the next day or two... But I'll treasure these memories and this opportunity to be outside with my family.  Thank you for blessing me with being able to go outside and have fun, see new sites, experience new things with the people I love.

Father God, I want more time to hang out with my family... am I being too greedy?  I want to go out and do more stuff, but I just physically cannot.  Sometimes my body is so weak that I feel dizzy standing.  Other times, I only have 15 minutes between restroom breaks.  There's a huge part of me that wants to please my family, give them a good time doing "family stuff."  My family is very thoughtful... they want to stay behind, keep me company so I don't get left out.  More pressure, more stress.  Unable to please, unable to participate... I feel like I’m a burden.  I want to please my family and let them experience the fun of Maui… and my family wants that for me… with them… together.  Grrrrrrrr…. God, this body of mine is so disappointing!  It is good to know that I am loved, wanted… but I’m tired.  I am so tired of always explaining why I can’t eat something when a tasty morsel is offered… why I can’t go out, just to lay on the beach or maybe snorkel a little… why I can’t go with my family to check out cool sites like Dragon’s Teeth or a black sand beach or go shopping.  I’m tired of saying I have to leave only to be pressure to stay longer when I can barely hold myself together.

God, this vacation is filled with such highs and deep lows.  Every moment that passes, I never know when my body will act up.  Lord, God of my life, in your hands I will continue to trust.  I thank you that there are good moments… because of the tough times, I can more clearly see how good the good times are.
Continue to bless me, guide me, provide for me.  In Jesus’ name I ask, I plead, I pray.  Amen.

Wanting to do what I shouldn't

"You want to do what?"

"Ummmmmm... Paintball.  After I get that port (little box for easy intravenous access) placed under the skin in my chest... Can I play paintball?  You know, the sport where you carry guns and shoot each other with little balls of paint?  It's really really fun!"

*blink blink*

"I haven't played paintball since my surgery.  Even though I'm a lot weaker now, I wanted to play at least once before chemotherapy!"

"You can play if the port won't get hit, it'll hurt."

"Uhhhhh, if pain was the only issue, I wouldn't be asking and I wouldn't play paintball.  I have a very high pain tolerance.  So... regardless of pain, can I play paintball?"  *hopeful look*

"Well.... You can play paintball only if you guarantee that the port doesn't get hit.  It's placed just under your skin so if you're not careful, the skin will tear."

"Oh.  *super deep sigh* no matter how much padding I wear, there's no guarantee I can avoid a hit.  Maybe, just maybe... if I ask to have the port placed lower on my chest... then I can bend forward and protect the area! Yeah!  Maybe that will work?" 

In response to my comment, I get a look filled with incredulity, incomprehension and doubt.

"Okay, okay.  Maybe not... no paintball.  Don't worry... this time, I'll be good."

I'm I that weird?  Are my words are incomprehensible?  *downcast demeanor*  Being told I can't do something... well... now I wanna play paintball even more!  *deep sigh* My pride's not worth screwing up the minor procedure required to place the port in...  I'm irritated!  Rwar!  I hate being told I can't do something!

Father God, thank you that in my week of weakness, you strengthened my body for a day to hang out with friends... many whom I haven't seen in years!  Thank you for giving me the strength and health to be outside again.  I love feeling the sunshine, gentle breeze, laughter with friends.  Thank you, Lord, for giving me an opportunity to smile, a time of hope.

In Jesus' name, I ask for you, Lord God, to bring peace and joy to my friends and family as you have to me.

Friends from childhood and college years!  =)

Me and my precious friend, Suzanne!  Love ya lots!

Noel and I feeding a ram at Tilden Little Animal Farm.

Romans 15:13 (NIV)
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.