Ugh

Another week down. Four more to go before the next scan. The past week has been one of the hardest yet. I feel like I am hanging on by the skin of my teeth. In the beginning people would always ask how I was doing. I was incredulous thinking, "Why in the world would you ask me? I am not the one with cancer!" But now I am starting to understand. I have always said that one of us has to be strong all the time and that is my job right now, I can have a mental breakdown later-when Trent is all better. But I can see how I am being worn down by all the emotions and stress that cancer has thrown our way. I recently read a quote that said, "Tears are not a sign of weakness, they are a sign of someone who has been strong for too long." That pretty much sums it up for me this week. I have shed way too many tears and it accomplished nothing. I am attempting to pull myself up by my bootstraps and continue the fight but it is hard when you focus on uncertainty. I have to refocus and keep my thoughts and attitude positive.

That is a tough thing to do when you watch your husband writhe in pain. This week the taxotere has done a real number on Trent. Some of the side effects are muscle spasms, joint pain, and neuropathy. Unfortunately Trent has experienced all of them to the Nth degree. And to top that off, we were running really low on pain meds so we were trying to make them last until the script came in the mail. (Something I may need to discuss with the staff at the Huntsman...) Anyway, there were several times this week when Trent described his pain as a '10' on the pain scale. It was awful and there was not a darn thing I could do to make it stop. When it gets like that it scares me bad and I tend to retreat a little. Plus, a person in pain is not usually the most pleasant person to be around. So I didn't really feel the urge to sit around and stroke his head or anything. I am pretty sure that Trent has no idea what other people are going through because of this. And on the flip side-not many people know what he is going through. He tells people he is doing pretty good and tries to put on a happy face but I see it day to day and it is not pretty. It makes me mad that other peoples lives get to go on normal and we have to stare cancer in the face every single day. Oh how I wish I could see to the end of the tunnel and know what lies ahead. It would make this whole trial a lot easier to handle. But again, that is part of the test. Stepping off into the dark and having the faith to be led through.

So as a new week begins I am doubling up my efforts to be Christlike, patient, and long-suffering. I know there are many other people who have to deal with things much worse than I do. With the help of the Lord, this too shall pass.