Hi folks - thought I'd give you an update on how I'm doing as it's been awhile. I don't think I've given a health update since I started chemotherapy so I'll try to catch you up on that.
My first chemo treatment was on January 27th. The regimen is this - I go into the hospital for about 4 hours on the Monday's of treatment week and get attached to an IV which drips 5 different medications into a port I've had installed in my upper right chest, just below the collar bone. When that it done they attach a pump to the IV in my port and I take it home in a shoulder bag and it pumps medicine in me for 46 hours. So, 46 hours after that first treatment I go back to the hospital and get the pump disconnected.
I'll be having treatments every other week so I had my second one this week and it will be every two weeks from now on.
On the one hand, chemo is no fun, but on the other hand I feel incredibly blessed because I know that (so far) I haven't had nearly the side effects that many have. My side effects are mainly extreme fatigue and lack of appetite. During the first treatment I had the pump removed on a Thursday and experienced the side effects till that Sunday. This week I had the pump removed on Wednesday and I'm still pretty wiped out, hoping I'll do better tomorrow.
One other side effect is that I am extremely sensitive to cold. I can't drink anything cooler than room temperature or my throat will feel like it's closing (it doesn't actually close, it just feels like it). I also can't touch anything cold. So, if I have to reach into the refrigerator or if I am out in the cold I have to put on gloves - otherwise my fingers will get that extreme tingling that happens when they go to sleep, but it feels like I am being stuck with needles.
The other side effect that has me most concerned is neuropathy in the fingers and toes - which is similar to the cold symptoms. The last two days several of my fingers have turned red and tingly and they feel like they are burning. It's not that bad, but my concern is that this is one side effect that can be permanent. It usually goes away but they say it can be permanent so we have to monitor it carefully. So, I'd appreciate your prayers that these are only temporary episodes. As I type this my fingers are feeling almost normal so that's good, but the effects will accumulate.
I'm in good spirits. As I said I feel very blessed - I have heard stories of people going through chemotherapy that sounded like torture to me. Even though I'm not feeling good, I can read and watch TV and carry on a conversation and I was even able to work some on Tuesday. And my wife is right beside me the whole time and the kids keep the humor and encouragement rolling, so I'm in pretty good shape.
Also, hopefully this trend will continue but during the non-chemo week I felt great. I had energy and was able to do a lot. In fact I was nearly giddy that week because it felt so good to feel good. I can't tell you how good it felt to wake up and actually feel like going to work and doing something. At the risk of sounding like I'm giving you a lecture, let me encourage all of you who are able to wake up in the morning and feel like doing something to not take that for granted.
If you stick with me after the jump I'll share a few thoughts on how I am handling all of this emotionally and spiritually along with some of the things I am reading.
I'm reading the book Deep Survival right now and it's a great read. Even though it deals mainly with survival situations with a lot of wilderness and ocean survival stories, it's got great application to someone struggling with long term illness. I may blog a little bit more about the book later but for now I'll mention a couple of things he said about fatigue and about living in the present.
Fatigue is as much psychological as physiological. This is something I have observed lately. I'm rarely discouraged, but times of discouragement come mostly when I'm feeling bad and I think the two reinforce one another so it's during the times of physical fatigue that I am most in need of encouragement. Like I said, thankfully for me that's not so hard, I've got a wife and kids who stay by my side constantly and I've got a church family, and blog and facebook friends who keep constant tabs on me. So, in case I haven't personally thanked any of you for your prayers and encouragement, let me say again - thank you, thank you, thank you.
I also keep Isaiah 43:10 and Phillippians 4:6-7 rattling around my brain and I'm also working on a ipod playlist of encouraging hymns and spiritual songs from the Idellible Grace folks, Bob Kauflin and Laura Story.
One of the most important things that Deep Survival says is that when you are lost in the woods or adrift at sea or in some other survival situation you have to accept your current situation as it is at the moment. I'm not sure he said it in exactly this way, but his point is basically that the map is not the terrain. In other words, maps are our ideal pictures of the way the world should look. But when you are lost, i.e. in a survival situation, you've gone off the map. Those who don't survive are those who try to conform their reality to the idealistic maps in their heads. Those who survive realize they have gone off the map and adapt themselves to their current situation and do what is necessary to survive in that situation.
That's where I'm at. Cancer has thrown me off of every map of my life I ever had in my head. Right now I have to admit that I am a bit disoriented. Although I refuse to complain against God I do wake up most mornings thinking "I can't believe I have cancer, I wonder how long I have to live." And, since the surgery I haven't been able to sleep because my mind is racing and most nights I need to take something to help me sleep.
And while that may sound a bit depressing I have the firm conviction that Christianity was made for times such as these. I follow the suffering savior and even though I'm disoriented He's not and I have complete confidence that He is going to come through for me.
But getting back to surviving I know I'm off the map and can't expect to ever go back to life the way it was, but that's ok.
I was particularly inspired today by a post from Chad Bresson at the Vossed World where he excerpted some things from a new book coming out from Joni Eareckson Tada called A Lifetime of Wisdom.
"A 'consider it pure joy' outlook affects the way we live on earth.
Though we still suffer as we march toward Zion, we become cities on a
hill, and lights on a lamp stand for all to see and take courage from
that welcome radiance. People whose hearts are ignited for heaven make
good inhabitants of earth.
"...Suffering in the present turns
our hearts toward the future, like a mother turning the face of her
child, insisting, 'Look this way!' Once heaven has our attention, a
fervid anticipation for God's ultimate reality -- appearing with him in
glory -- begins to glow, making everything earthly pale in comparison.
Earth's pain keeps crushing our hopes, reminding us this world can
never, never satisfy us.
"Only heaven can.
Joni also says that she hopes she can take her wheelchair to heaven so she can briefly go up to God and thank Him for the wheelchair right before she casts it into hell.
I'm not where she is but that's the new reality I'm getting re-oriented toward and am hoping I can soon come to a place where I can sincerely thank God for the cancer. Sometimes I do now, but not as much as I'd like to and hope to in the future.
There's much more I could share but I'll stop there and just point you to a couple of links. One of the Scriptures that has been much on my mind lately has been Ecclesiastes 7:2-4:
2 It is better to go to a house of mourning
than to go to a house of feasting,
for death is the destiny of every man;
the living should take this to heart.
3 Sorrow is better than laughter,
because a sad face is good for the heart.
4 The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning,
but the heart of fools is in the house of pleasure.
Along those lines everyone would profit by seriously considering their own mortality, and here's a couple of things that may help you.
I don't think I've ever cried when reading a blog post but I nearly did so today at this one from Glenn Lucke called Grieving with Those Who Grieve.
Also, I'd encourage everyone to read the blog "Grace's Journal," starting withthe entry on January 25, 2007 and moving forward from there. It's the story of Andrew and Grace Mark as they dealt with Andrew's cancer. Andrew went to be with the Lord a few days ago, and I believe he was only 27 years old. But the story of their faith and courage throughout his sufferings (much greater than anything I have endured yet) will inspire you.
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Ah, David. Thanks for sharing. I do pray for you, brother.
Posted by: Dan Phillips | February 12, 2009 at 10:45 PM
Thanks Dan I appreciate that a lot - I really do.
Posted by: David Wayne | February 13, 2009 at 12:16 AM
The analogy of the map and being lost and reorienting oneself to where you actually are and so on struck a deep chord. That's something to remember.
Posted by: J. | February 13, 2009 at 02:05 AM
David! Don't forget, anytime those hands feel a bit "tingly" and it's chilly outside... you know who to call! Thanks for your blog and guidance too! You at times, though younger than me are like the hands of that parent turning the child's face... as I said, THANKS, I need that! If the fence blows open again, get on the phone! *Smile*
Posted by: Dave | February 13, 2009 at 10:26 AM
I just wanted to say I understood your comments about chemo. I went through 3 months of it this summer and remember the dramatic turn-around when it's leaving your system and you suddenly have the energy to do all kinds of things.
Just wanted to add...chemo can affect your moods and cause depression, besides the normal emotional stuff of dealing with a cancer diagnosis. I would have severe mood swings during the first week after chemo. So, if you are feeling particularly overwhelmed because of being wiped out, some of it can be attributed to the effect that chemo has on the brain.
May God give you the strength to pull through these times. Rest in Him.
Posted by: terri | February 13, 2009 at 04:05 PM
Sounds like oxaliplatin; up your B vitamins and specifically take vitamin B6 for the neuropathy. My doc. ordered it. Did end up with permanent nerve damage in feet, but the fingers came back. Chemo nurses also told me to drink lots of water after the pump came off with each treatment.
Posted by: Anne | February 14, 2009 at 04:58 PM
Dearest David,
We continue to pray for you as you continue your chemotherapy treatments..God is with you, will sustain you.
Please take one day at time and before you know it, this rough patch will be behind you! I Pray for your family and know they comfort and support you, always.
Your friend in Orange Park, Florida Lisa Hoffman (Davidson)
Posted by: Lisa Hoffman Davidson | February 17, 2009 at 08:03 PM