The Full Dose

"I work all day, and then I have to come home and take care of a messy house." I could tell he was frustrated. The coffee pot was still in my hand and a towel in the other. I was trying my best to stay on my feet long enough to finish drying the dishes Harrison was washing by hand. My back couldn't take it any longer and neither could my patience. "What's wrong?" He asked. I shook my head as tears welted up in my eyes. I slammed the coffee pot in the coffee maker and walked back to the bedroom where I buried my head in the towel to catch my tears.

This was just a few weeks before my chest x-ray that would reveal the grapefruit sized tumor inside my chest. Not only was this thing literally sucking the life out of me, it was also in the perfect location to affect a number of my body systems. The ongoing symptoms were debilitating. Clearly my lack of energy and constant pain was beginning to take its toll on my two month old marriage. I was twenty-one for crying out loud! What twenty-one year old can't physically sweep the floors and wash dishes? There's a term for that: lazy. Which is exactly what I looked like to Harrison.

We watched a play in class this morning that stimulated numerous flashbacks. It's been interesting watching my emotions change towards different challenges during my time as a cancer patient. The first one was obviously total frustration stemming from, "what is wrong with me!?" 

It then turned to a short moment of fear when "cancer" was the word we knew about my two years of odd symptoms. Once we were well into fighting mode, my emotions turned to humiliation. My looks had changed drastically. People no longer recognized me. Yes, I cried over my looks a lot! Then just minutes after my last treatment, my guard came crashing down without warning. That part of the fight was over. I didn't have to play "tough guy" anymore. I was a wreck!

A lot hit me during those nine long months but never once did I think, "How awful. Oh my gosh! How scary!" No, I never thought those things. Not even with chemo, balding, bone marrow biopsy, bone biopsy, surgeries, etc. Those things never "shook me." Not until this morning.

This morning I thought all of those things as I watched the story of a women who was diagnosed, tested, and treated for cancer. I felt terrible for her! What a horrible thing to be faced with! But everything she went through, was everything I went through. The words from her doctors, were the same words that came from my doctors. I was feeling that way about myself. 

"If the nurse tells you your counts are too low for your treatment, you tell them to call me. You have to get the full dose every two weeks. We have to be very aggressive and totally consistent." My oncologist told me. And my response: "ok!" With determination written on my face and of course a smile. And no I wasn't trying to hide anything with my smile either. I was just ready to feel better and glorify God in the process.

I flashed back to that moment every time the main character's doctor said to her, "The full dose!" He continued to say this throughout the entire play. It reminded me of what put me on those steroids in the first place: chemo had to damage my lungs before they would lower my dose... The full dose. I was holding back tears, adjusting in my seat, and taking giant gulps of my coffee in an attempt to snap out of it. But they wouldn't stop. The flashbacks persisted.

The main character was dry heaving into a basin, and immediately I saw myself walking back to my chair, IV pole in hand, watching Harrison get up to plug my machine back in. "No stay there." I said to him. "Can I just sit in your lap?" With worried eyes, he sat back down and helped me into his lap. I buried my head in his chest and cried. "I don't feel good! I just want to throw up!" Then I saw my mom come in. I see now that couldn't have been a coincidence. I wonder what God was doing right there...

What I went through was huge. It took having to watch my experience being played out on a tv screen to realize that. I don't know if my emotions will transition into anything else pertaining to my situation. I certainly hope not! But that's up to God. And don't get me wrong, there was nothing bad about what I experienced today. I think this moment came a little late actually. Being aware of the extent of my situation will better help me to empathize with others and sympathize with friends and family. It gives me a heart rather than a stone cold demeanor towards real life situations.

Needless to say, I emailed my professor letting him know I won't be returning to class on Thursday to finish watching the play. I'd like to work out this reality without a room full of people ;)