Last night I lay in bed wondering how much longer I can continue with chemo. It's been 7-months of three weeks on, one week off. The side effects are tolerable, so why am I being a baby? Why am I thinking about asking the doctor his opinion of stopping this for now?
It's the no light at the end of the tunnel that is weighing on my heart and soul. Every week there is at least a day or two where the fatigue overwhelms. Every week there is at least a day or two where the nausea or taste in my mouth is a bitter reminder of the poison that flows through my blood. It's the constant blood tests. It's the giving up of on the average of five hours of my time a week to go through this torture. It's the discouragement of that by the time the aftereffects are ending, it's time to go back for more.
Added to this, for the last two weeks, the evening of the chemo, there has been a pain in my right arm and right chest that hasn't been there before. Last night it was the second time this has happened and I am beginning to fear having another side effect that I will have to deal with.
While it's not as horrendous as what I know others face, still it's a weekly endurance that I tire of. It's like an dull toothache that just when it leaves you, comes back for another round of pain. I try to smile through it and mostly that works, but last night as I lay in bed, my mind could not process continuing on like this for much longer. I drifted off to sleep discouraged, but with the hope that the morning will bring a new promise.
This morning, as I opened my daily devotional, the verse of the day gave me the hope that I needed at the very moment that I needed.
Okay, so he doesn't say that I won't suffer anymore, but knowing that he knows that I am suffering, that he is here with me now, every step of the way and that there is some reason for it, there is some sense in it, helps me right now. This is not for naught. This is something I can cling to.