"Nadir" (noun- the lowest point; not the zenith). Is our Ralph Nadir here? While I thought I might defy the odds and pass through this round of chemo without a neutropenic episode, today was a bit of an education to the contrary. Since my White Blood Count (WBC) had increased from Monday to Tuesday, I naievely presumed that we would have no inflection points and it would be a simple trend upward. Uh-uh. Nope. Psych.
Today, the first thing the clinic nurse said to me was, "Well, we decimated your whites. That's what happens when we give you poison." She is so smart. On the order of magnitude, my count is 0.4, while a safe count threshold is north of 5. I guess I'm vulnerable right now to an infection of any sort, but the challenge is reminding myself that's the case. I'm a little stubborn.
My wife is the face-police. She hawks over every incidental hand gesture and yells at me when my hands come within breeze of my eyes, nose, or mouth. She has been on parrot-repeat-mode ever since, saying, "Don't touch your face. I saw that. You wanna get an infection? Huh?" I think that last question is more rheotrical, as I don't see the need to answer it. Other than with the roll of my eyes.
Today I had a fleeting thought that I want to share, as it was a stark reminder of how I'm wired and I believe many of us are wired as well. Having spent the last 9-10days with little faculty to prop myself up, I was privileged to come to a realization of my own frailty, weakness, and futility to carry myself forward on my own accord. This conundrum of weakness is really one I hope to explore more in the months ahead.
We're told both with words and inaudibly by everything and everyone around us to be tough in life -- and step up. We have to do this with our jobs, our families, our relationships, and just daily life in general. We all have to do things we don't want to do. This reality is easy to agree upon.
What is less manifest is that, at no point in doing so, should we fool ourselves into thinking that we, in and of ourselves, are the source of any apparent strength. In fact, what I mention above is not really demonstrative 'strength', after all. It's just doing things we don't necessarily want to do. The real 'strength' that underlies is the part I love the most. The strength is ours as a gift of grace and grace alone. It's not organic or home-grown.
If you think otherwise, I challenge you to show me just where you got your strength. If your strength comes from your mental faculties, I ask you where you got those very faculties. Did you earn them? Did you negotiate in the womb and make a winning case for some solid DNA? Right.
Is it physical strength? I will let sleeping dogs lie here, as we all know what happens to our physical flesh in the end. Battleship sunk.
If your strength comes from the many layers that you've built as a result of life's hardships thrown your way, I'd contend that you're possibly just hiding behind a heart of stone and don't really know what a fleshy heart feels like. It's easier to numb out, in fact. May not even be categorized as strength in the first place!
If we are really as weak as I contend that we are, then we have to ask ourselves not only where the strength we get originates, but also why we're the fortunate beneficiaries of this gift. Why are we so beloved? What did we do to earn it? Or what didn't we do?
To bring us back... I had a week-and-a-half of pure, unabated weakness. I was on my face. Crying at the simplest of things. Hearing a line in a song, or a phrase from a friend of loved one. A very sweet place to be. But, it only took one day - ONE DAY - of feeling somewhat 'ok' to pad all of that vulnerability back to where it was. Not completely back, but enough for me to notice.
Why is this? Is it a default pride within? Is it a coping mechanism? Is it a character flaw? A gift? Regardless of what you or I call it, it's real and it happens with me and probably many of you. I get one day of normal life, and the awareness and sensitivity I had just hours ago, is palpably muted.
I want to go back. Brokenness is so bittersweet. It's an emptiness that simultaneously overflows. My in-house strength is so small. I am only a recipient. How I yearn to go back and sit at the place where things that should move me will move me and my own pride will take a back seat.
Our Brand Is Crisis (2015)
9 years ago
16 comments:
beautiful, stuart. thanks for your words and your reminders. i had a breaking point during my pregnancy w/ benjamin (5th pregnancy...takes a few times for some) where i had to repent for my having taken 'credit' for my previous births. it wasn't me, it wasn't my strength, it was all by His grace, all only by His design, and all a gift i was honored to play a part...but it's not about me, it's all about Him. may you experience His peace, His presence, maintain the humble spirit you experience now...prayers are constant. (the moms group 'held' you guys this morning)
For the record, I only said, "You wanna get an infection? Huh?" ONCE. (and it was said jokingly)..but I secretly see you rolling your eyes at me. :)
And I just can't help saying "Don't touch your face" I can practically see those viruses and bacteria jumping off your hands into your bloodstream and i have to protect you! It's an obsession like the mom who puts on the brakes while she simultaneously places her arm across her child in the front seat (as if this is truly somehow going to keep her child in the car . It's the same thing - i can't help myself. You'll be glad I kept the coodies away.
You tell em Candace!
Stu, you have a way of writing that just kinda makes one (or at least me) wanna slap my had across my forehead and go "duh!, he's right, he hit the nail on the head!". I completely understand and agree with what you said. I felt rather vulnerable while I was deaf, but at the same time those months were the happiest of my life thus far. Getting my hearing back while an amazing thing for which I'm very grateful has brought reality crashing back down. Oh, well I'm getting long winded and have forgotten the point I was going to make. Anyways, well said!
Candace, you keep on being the cootie police!
Stuart, we all looking in on you here are in deed privileged that you allow us to see your being tried in the Fiery Furnace. Your testimony makes me want to be more of His disciple. Stoke the flames and tell us more of your experience; it blesses us. With love.
Thanks for getting in touch with me on my blog, which has obviously and thankfully been inactive for some time now. If you scanned over any of my entries or photos, your aware of how I can sympathize with your situation. It truly looks like you have all the tools to conquer this situation...great doctors (and multiple opinions), aggressive treatments, faith, journaling your experience through your blog, sense of humor, and support from friends and family.
From my experience with cancer, here are a few things that you might find helpful.
1. accupunture. the doctors will worry about infection, but any reputable place will use new sterile needles. i honestly believe it was one of the most helpful things i did to stay strong and healthy during and after chemo. It can really help with mental health as well. Collostrum can really boost the immune system as well. Check it out.
2. plan a vacation when you finish your treatments. my wife and i took a trip to mexico a month after i finished chemo. i was completely hairless and still a shade of chartreuse, but it was a blast. planning the trip can be a fun project and having a vacation lined up gives you something exciting to look forward to after you're done.
3. if your nausea if bad, try different cocktails of anti-nasuea medication. i took ativan, zophran, and marinol together and had almost no nausea. obviuosly mac and cheese and papa john's bread stick are great choices further down the road.
Please contact me any time. I'll be happy to share my experience with you. It's been three years since I first found the lump in my arm. I've been through radiation, chemo, and numerous surgeries. I've also dealt with recurrence and metastatic disease. If you'd rather discuss the fertility clinic experience, I've run the course there as well. We're expecting twins within the month.
Good luck with everything.
CP
"It may seem paradoxical, but the only person who is at rest has acheived it through conflict. This peace, born of conflict, is not like the ominous lull before the storm but like the serenity and the quietness following the storm, with it's fresh purified air.
The person who may appear to be blessed, having been untouched by sorrow, is typically not one who is strong and at peace. His qualities have never been tested, and he does not know how he would handle even a mild setback. The safest sailor is certainly not one who has never weathered a storm. He may be right for fair weather sailing, but when a storm arrises, wouldn't you want an experienced sailor at the critical post? Wouldn't you want one at the help who has fought through a gale and who knows the strength of the ship's hull and rigging, and how the anchor may be used to grasp the rocks of the ocean floor?
Oh how everything gives way when affliction first come upon us! The clinging stems of our hopes are quickly snapped, and our heart lies overwhelmed and prostrate, like a vine the windstorm has torn from its trellis. But once the initial shock is overand we are able to look up and say "It is the Lord", faith begins to lift our shattered hopes once more and securely binds them to the feet of God. And the final result is confidence, safety, and peace."
from Steams in the Desert
You are such a beautiful writer...I have been sitting here reading you blog weeping because I am able so picture it all so clearly, and my heart is breaking for you. Your strength is amazing, and your willingness to share your weakness speaks to my very soul. May the Lord continue to draw you closer to him...and way to go Candace keeping him in line with the germs!
Stuart -
Press on, brother. I am grateful that you are taking the time to write. Meriwether and I are praying for you and Candace. Please holler if I can do anything else for you!
Patrick
Well said.
Stuart, you're going to hear this a lot but, goodness gracious your thoughts and words are impacting so many of us. Thank you. Much love to you and Candace.
Man, what truth you speak about weakness and brokenness. We have nothing to give God. Nothingness is a beautiful thing. I believe that God can do a lot with a little, more with even less, and everything with nothing (i.e. Creation). I am encouraged daily by your insights and the wisdom you are sharing with all of us. God is right in the center of this whole thing you are experiencing and I think it's obvious that he dwells right in the center of your bride! What a blessing she must be at this time. Peace to both of you...
Stuart,
Its been absolutely ages since we connected. Kevin (Schuler) forwarded me the link to your blog.
I wanted to write and say that you will be in my thoughts and prayers and I wish you a speedy recovery.
All the best always,
Rishad (Premji)
Stu,
Again, well said brother. I am so proud of you. I think you're touching close to what St. Paul said about rejoicing in his weakness because he knew that it was in his weakness that Christ's strength was most clearly seen. Be weak, friend. Learn from it... write it down... teach us. Because there will come a day when you're strong again and we must remember this lesson being learned right here and now as it'll come in handy one day many years from now.
Stu--
have you on my mind this rainy afternoon. Thanks for keeping perspective and reminding me how easily it can be lost. Best to you and Candace--sounds like she's terrific. Maybe after all this we can get together. Remembering you in prayer daily.
DH
Thanks for the updates Stu. Round One of Chemo down, this is big! Love you brother, Fight it!
it was SO special to see you both at church this morning. there was a moment when i looked over to you both, Spirit filled my heart and i wept with joy that you are sharing yourselves with so many. what a great honor to be witnessing this walk. thanks.
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