Week Two/Chemo+Radiation - Check!

Week Two:  One third of the way finished with the first leg of the protocol.  We are getting the hang of things living away from home during the week and finding our way around Cleveland pretty well.  

There haven't been any huge signs of side effects except fatigue, which of course, the Pirate Husband denies vehemently.  He is also experiencing dizziness and a wee bit loss of balance.  Currently he is attributing this to lack of water (which most likely isn't the cause - he drinks almost a gallon a day).  This began yesterday and the lab tech who drew his blood brought him out in a wheelchair.  He promptly ordered me to push him down the nearby flight of stairs when I couldn't manage to untangle our wheelchair from an empty wheelchair sitting in the full waiting area.  His excuse to the crowd, "Women drivers."  My excuse: hands full of purse, notebook, water bottle, his lightweight jacket, and nervous worry seeing him in a wheelchair.  We ditched the wheeled contraption and he walked himself back to see the nurse.  Walked himself?  He strutted like a peacock.

Uh, hell no...not joining this club yet.

My persistent question this week is "why"?  That is probably every cancer family's question.  This week has been an internal struggle with the "why" and the fear.  But I have to say with some prayers answered I have a better handle on peace anyway.  Learning lessons and walking beyond the fear.

Jaa Karhu at Hope Lodge from Ivan

As we live in our group home setting we can't help but become involved in the lives of the other folks living with us.  

Near and dear are Linda and Sam.  Same age as the Pirate Husband, enjoying retirement, Sam is an associate pastor and retired marine, woke up one morning a couple of months ago with a brain tumor.  When we left yesterday he had been hospitalized.  Prayers for Sam.  He was so weak and Linda was devastated.  

Also cherished are Dave and Marie.  Oh my word, talk about cuteness and spunk.  They have been married for 49 years and Dave woke up one morning feeling like he had the flu but it was a type of blood cancer.  They are Amish from Geauga County and we usually sit with them during dinner.  

Dave and Marie

Then there is Carmen...I might as well call her Carmen Electra!  She is a beautiful sassy gal from El Salvador.  Well, when she met the Pirate Husband, she nearly swooned.  Ha ha ha....it's true.  I LOVE her!  She said to him in her honeyed Spanish accent, "Ooooo, yo' eyes are sooo blue!" She wanted to hear the story (again!) of how we met and she even jumped in at the right time and shouted, "And THEN you keeesed her in the elevatorrr!"  She is the caregiver (I call her an angel) to her grown daughter who had bone cancer in her hip and had her leg amputated.  Brave lady, Laurita, brave and strong.  Carmen arranged for her son-in-law who was coming for a visit from El Salvador to bring glorious coffee from her sister's coffee bean farm!  

Coffee with the LORD at Hope Lodge

Come and gone was Vicky who was a sweet lady that I shared Bible study notes with; Mike and Sherry battling the tumor in his lung with a clinical trial; and about four or five more couples who headed home.  But the waiting list is always full for our Hope Lodge and new couples arrived.

We try to walk twice a day around the Little Italy neighborhood of Cleveland.  The Pirate Husband isn't going to just lay around in bed even through high doses of chemotherapy and radiation.  No way.  That is not his style. So, we go on adventures and spend most of the time laughing along the way.  That's right, he's not only handsome and charming, he can be quite funny!

First Time Bingo Player...yes, we sure did!

Three Time Bingo Winner - Oh, Yeah!!

This week we discovered Presti's Bakery, darn it.  I say darn it because it is fabulous!  We had first ventured into a bakery spouting, "Leave the gun, take the cannoli," but the atmosphere fizzled before we even ordered.  Out the door we went and entered into a crowded, take-a-number and wait fifteen minutes, bakery and deli....always follow the crowd when it comes to Italian bakeries.  We devoured chicken caprese with fresh mozzarella and basil, thickly sliced bruschetta burdened with melted cheese, and the Pirate Husband partook of a meat stromboli.  I mean, come on - there is no need to worry that my man is going to waste away of cachexia.  And we didn't stop there.  No, we went all the way.  He had a custard filled cream puff and I had a double stuffed cannoli, actually we shared our entire meal and dessert.  

Presti's Bakery Little Italy Cleveland, Ohio 

How many weeks of treatment do we have left?  Is it enough time to sample these?!

Presti's Deli Side

So, maybe the last couple of years have been a huge adjustment to living apart.  I have praised the Pirate Husband's achievements along the way but I have had my tear-filled bitter moments that my life has been lived without him by my side.  I didn't ask for that, neither did I want that.  All his own choice.  Now here we are thrown together in a tiny room, 24/7 with zero down time by ourselves.  More adjustments.  Pirate Husbands are nothing if they are not Mr. Command Man (See the section on Mr. Command Man:  "Created To Be His Help Meet" ) so I adjust my sails and become the "yes man" to the captain of our ship.  This is in addition to the Pirate Husband giving up tobacco the day before treatment began...and we still manage to live and breathe and actually laugh.  

Second Floor Library

More than two years of my childhood was spent living in an orphanage.  Even though the Hope Lodge is super nice I just can't help but get the same deserted feeling when I stay there.  Maybe it is Cleveland.  I was born there and the orphanage is in a suburb of Cleveland.  And in the midst of all this upheaval a birth sister contacts me on facebook.  I mean, seriously?  I have enough already.  I have enough. It is enough to face the ugly reality of cancer and fight it with the Pirate Husband.  It is enough to worry over him with every chemo and radiation treatment.  It is enough to say goodbye to my home and family every Sunday evening to move to Cleveland for the week.  It is enough to leave my own life plans and put everything on hold just to survive.  All the fear and anger and questions and frustrations and adjustments - it is enough.  Someone said, "Oh, you will walk through this with the grace and kindness you always do."  Well, I don't feel like that.  I don't feel like being gracious or kind or giving.  But neither do I want to fail - fail God, or the Pirate Husband, or those who count on me. On Thursday I even closed my Bible, not looking for any answers from God and mad at Him for not arranging a detour around this scenario.  But then that evening came the Mennonites from Huron Valley....

With a warm - delicious - meal (yes, after the Presti's binge!) they were gracious and kind and giving - what I should be but needed.  They invited us all to hear them sing of God's love and the pastor gave a very short message assuring us that God does love us and He will carry us if we turn to Him and trust Him.  Just what my soul needed.  Just what my heart needed.  We all sang the old hymns, "Trust and Obey" and "It Is Well" - 

"Trust and Obey"

"It Is Well With My Soul"

Then there is just that tragic story of Horatio Spafford, the writer of "It Is Well".  He lost everything but he didn't fail.  He didn't fail God and neither did he fail his integrity.  I think I would have been inconsolable in his place.  Here is his story:  Horatio Spafford's Story, No Why, Just It Is Well


What am I whining about?  Came home to this:

Home, Sweet Home

Boy came tearing through the house, shouting for Granny,
then threw himself in my arms, and kissed my whole face.