Is it Just a Dream?

For the past few weeks I've been living in a fog. It's as if I'm in a dream. I keep waiting for the dream to end.  The whole experience is disturbing. The last few days I've been using the oxygen that Hospice has given to me and it seems to make a difference. As I sit here typing, while I don't feel 100%, I don't feel the need to runaway the way I used to.

Here are my fears. I hate to list them and give them credit, but then I think that by listing them, they lose their stronghold over me. That's ultimately what I want. Sometimes I think I'm going crazy.  Conversations don't seem real so I'm constantly asking everyone if they are really there and are we really conversing.

This is especially true when the communication is occurring via telephone or text message. For example, yesterday Uncle Frank called. I felt so badly for him. He was sobbing and sobbing as he asked for prayer for Blake, Becky and Jadon. After the call ended, I sat there questioning whether the conversation was real. It didn't seem like it, but I know deep inside it was.

I guess that's it. The bottom line is this. Even though I question all of this, the bottom line is I know it's real. Perhaps the point is, I wish it wasn't...wasn't real. Because that would hopefully mean I'm not stuck here in bed talking to myself, experiencing shortness of breath, and all the, excuse my language, crap that comes with it. It wouldn't be so bad if I could write, create art and take photographs when I'm in this state, but I can't.

Bottom line is this...no photos today :(

Tired of the Pain

After days of positive thinking, of saying, at least, mentally I feel strong, of pushing past the pain, I took a step backwards. I could feel it coming all day yesterday as I did little to move off my recliner, pretending that I needed a Sunday of rest. As I pulled myself off the recliner this morning, anxious to get the morning started, apprehensive that with each step I took, the pain would commence. The truth is, I've gotten to the point where I want to move as little as possible so tired of the pain that I'm in.

At lunchtime, I tried to pull myself out of my funk by writing in my daily journal of gratitude. It wasn't working. I tried harder by moving myself to the patio. It made me feel a little better, but not enough. I tried even harder by walking one and a half times around the patio.

By the end of lunch, I was back on my recliner, my legs aching, crying out loud. The pain, I can take. The self-pity, not so much. Still, I pray for a reprieve from the pain. I am praying, pleading, begging the Lord that the new medication I'm taking will give me relief.

I was reading something today that someone wrote about waiting and how waiting for the unknown was the hardest. I get it. I think about one of my biggest fears, paralysis. It may come tomorrow, it may never come. Today, it was foremost on my mind. I can't sit forever, it's not good for compression, yet I don't know what else to do, standing is virtually impossible, walking not much better.

A thought struck my mind. I'm afraid of paralysis and yet, here I am, spending most of my time doing what I'm most afraid of...sitting...in a chair. Yes, I can still get up, take a shower, get my food, dress myself, but even that I'm not doing much of. I haven't taken a shower since Friday...yuck! I know, it makes me feel even worse.

In some ways I felt an amount of relief. If that would be my lot in life, well, then, I could handle it. In some ways, perhaps the pain would be limited, I don't know. I hope so.

What Will Be

Almost four years ago, a new journey began for me. Sufficed to say, it's not a trip I would have chosen to take. But like everything in life, good comes with the bad and, thankfully, there have been a lot of blessings.

After over 6-months of chemo, I was given a reprieve in December 2009 and was told that it was likely that I would be able to be off the poison for up to a year. It's been three years and this Thursday, I begin a new regiment of chemo. This time around, I asked for a port so I won't need to be stuck with a needle 6 times a month.

To say that it's not the way I wanted to start the year is an understatement. I've not really been looking forward to 2013 as I have no idea what it may bring. Truth is, I really don't want to think ahead. Still, it helps to make plans for the future.

Things I want to do:
1. Select my one word that will be my word for the year. It was a difficult selection. Joy, love, hope, faith, journey, persevere, fight, act, serve and believe were in the running, but none of these truly struck a chord in me. As I was driving to Greg's today, embrace seemed to embody all that I want 2013 to be.
2. Participate in 365 where I purposefully take at lease one photo a day representing something special in the day.
3. Participate in 52 weeks of me in which I take a self-portrait.
4. Buy a polaroid. Learn to use it
5. Buy 620 film and shoot with my dad's old Argus 75.
6. Write, every day. Write with purpose and meaning. Write a book.
7. Travel. Drive up North for a week and if possible, across the country.

Those are just a few of the things I want to do this year. The good news is that I'm back to feeling like making plans, like doing things which is part of the reason I selected embrace as my word for the year. I want to embrace my loved ones, embrace life, embrace the things that I feel passionate about, embrace things that come my way, even if they are unexpected, embrace the purpose that God has determined my life to be.

It was easy to do today, surrounded by family and friends, armed with my camera, filled with the Spirit of the Lord. It was a good day, a start of a good year. Unexpected, but good. I am so blessed, so very blessed. I pray that this will be a good year from start to finish. I pray that I get to finish it and celebrate another Christmas and another New Year.

A Thankful Hate

I hate that I know the ins and outs of this place.

I hate that I know where the best place to park depending on the time of day I'm here.

I hate that I know where the laboratory, oncology, nuclear medicine and orthopedic departments are located and that I wander the halls without a wide eyed look anymore.

But I am thankful for this experience. I am thankful for the strength that God has given me. I am thankful for the love of my friends and family.

Begin at the Beginning

I've decided to join one more photo challenge. (Ackkk!!!) I know, but like Scavenger Sunday, this one is just once a week and it looks like it'll really stir my creative juices. 52 Photos Project is hosted by Bella Cirovic and each week she'll give us a prompt in which we have a few days to come up with our interpretation.

Since this is the first week of the 52 weeks, the challenge is Begin at the Beginning. What am I beginning right now? I think I'm in the beginning of my creative journey since this whole thing started. Three years ago, I was diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer. When I finally had enough courage to read some of the books my sister sent me, I read over and over again how women felt such creative drive as a result. A silver lining? At that time, I grasped on anything that gives me hope.

As I worked through the chemo, the resulting side effects, the rebuilding of my normal, I didn't feel the least bit creative. I didn't really have time to dwell upon it. Every once in a while I would feel like a failure because it just wasn't there. But there must have been a seed that was planted because it's sprouting out in all different directions right now. Photography, writing, even a little crafting on the side. It's all invigorating. It drives me to the point where it is hard to concentrate on work. You know, the job that pays the bills, the one that was faithful to me when I was sideswiped.

I want to be careful not to burn out and have nothing but half finished projects to show for this. The best thing I can think of it to pace myself, to do at least a little every day. I want to write the story of my life, for me, for my children, for God. There I said it. I want to write a photo journal, for me, for my children, for God. There I said it. I have started it, but more importantly I want to finish it, for me, for my children, for God. There I said it!

If you want to begin at your beginning, too, go to 52 Photos Project and join along.