Sunday, January 30, 2011

Weariness and Strength

They are at opposite ends of the spectrum. More times than not waves of wearniness overcome me. I'm sitting, perfectly still and quiet, like a peaceful deserted beach when a wave of wearniness rolls over me as the tide overtaking the beach. I wonder how I can walk to the car, much less get up and repeat this tiring process another day. I come home to a messy house, dropping mail, my purse and coat wherever there's an empty spot. The Christmas wreath is still on the front, Christmas dishes are stacked on the dining room table waiting to be put away, the morning coffee mug sits on the counter. I remember. Major on the majors. There is so much to do and I'm torn between being at the hospital with Tom, keeping up with daily chores like laundry, bills, etc. and resting. Yesterday, late in the afternoon, just when I thought I'd scream if Tom called me one more time, I heard a voice in my head say, My strength is made perfect in your weakness. (Tom calls my name, sometimes because he just wants to know I'm there, sometimes to tell me something. His speech has deteriorated so that I have to get in his face and strain to understand what he's saying. It's frustrating for us both.) God's word came through and I knew I was trying too much on my own. I have to rely on God's strength.

So, this morning, after a good night's sleep I'm ready to shower, dress and head to the hospital.
I've had a cup of tea--simply because my coffee pot won't come on again--Tommy's already fixed it once--I'll fix myself breakfast and swallow one last pill. When I come home tonight I'll think about chores. Marty and her boys are coming Tuesday and if the remaining Christmas boxes are not taken to the attic, they'll have nowhere to sleep.

I have begun the oral chemo regimen. The first day I took the capsule, I got nauseated late in the day. Though I hate to take them, I took a pill for nausea. The next day I had to force myself to take that day's capsule because I didn't want to repeat the nausea. So far the extreme fatigue and shortness of breath have not returned. We are praying that once a day will be kinder to my body than an infusion every two weeks. God's strength is a must.

Yesterday was a beautiful day--sunshine and mid-sixties. The best part was the visit of two Mississippi friends. Tom was so glad to see them and really perked up when he heard their voices and saw them. Our sitter stayed with him while we went out to lunch together. Of course, there was much talk about Tom, etc., but also there was talk of children, grandchildren, things "back home" and shared memories. Their visit made the day--or the week--or month. It was a blessing, indeed!

Thank you, faithful friends, for keeping up and for your prayers.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

1 comment:

Little Bit Of Land... said...

I am praying for you, Margaret. I have been following your blog for quite some time... commented a few times.

I took care of my mother here in my home for 8 yrs. ... the last 10 months of her life being bedbound. Her doctor would not release her into hospice care because he felt she could be taken better care of by me... her daughter... also an R.N.

The caring for mom nearly killed me... mentally, spiritually, psychologically, physically. I was 44 years old when I started having to bathe my mom everyday... my children were 3, 13, & 18 years old. We had been homeschooling for 9 years by that time.

My mom passed away at 90 years old... after 10 months in bed... weighing less than 50#. In the end she had not eaten for 19 days and hadn't had any liquids for 4 days, when she died. She had one of the most peaceful deaths of anyone I've ever seen... and I've seen my share.

So as hard as this is right now, for you to endure, please know that you WILL one day look back on this time & wonder HOW you ever did it. But "did it" you will have done... and this time will be, I promise you, a distant memory one day. And all that will be left will be the good good memories of the wonderful times in your life, with your beloved husband.

We are all heading to the same place & you will be with your husband one day... and I will be with my mom too. And then this earthly existence itself will be a distant memory as well.

God bless you~ Andrea in Indiana