Fear Not

 "Fear not, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."

Isaiah 41:10

This verse has been in the forefront of my mind lately.  So much is happening, and has happened, here! 

Very late on Tuesday the 18th, my Dad landed in the hospital yet again with hyponatremia--this time it was critically low and he was almost admitted to ICU.  I spoke with him on Wednesday, and quickly packed my bags, made plans for my children, got myself in order, and left at 7am on Thursday morning for Charleston.  While I was en route his liver biopsy results finally came back and he was given a diagnosis that surprised everyone--even the oncologists.  He doesn't have colon cancer that has metastasized to his liver (which was the initial assumption); he has extensive small cell lung carcinoma. SCLC is the most aggressive type of lung cancer.  The oncologists told him his diagnosis on Thursday afternoon and started him on chemotherapy *that night.*

I stayed in the hospital with him for five nights.  For some reason, God has gifted me with the ability and desire to be a very useful person in the hospital. I can sleep virtually anywhere.  I can survive for a while on very little broken sleep.  (I can't do that indefinitely, mind you!)  For whatever reason I have a huge heart for taking care of all the little details of life (lets put this IV tube over here, and you can sit this way.  Let's call the nurse for a bit more of this.  Let me get you that.  Here, I'll put socks on you.  etc) for someone who is ill and suffering.  Time and time again I've found myself in this role. 

The first chemo treatment was at 2:15 am.  My father slept right through it, but when I heard the nurse come in and start putting on her PPE, I was transported back to the days of my husband's chemo. I remember it all so well. I stayed awake.  

He was released last Tuesday in much better shape than he had been the week before. His sodium had gone from 117 to 130, and he was a completely different person--perkier, steadier, less fatigued, less confused.  My Dad is supersmart, so seeing him suffering from mental confusion was extremely disconcerting to me.  It's amazing what the restoration of electrolytes can do! SCLC causes hyponatremia--so it all makes sense now. 

I had that week in Charleston in the hospital to think long and hard about the entire situation.  There was a lot of processing.  There were a lot of tears. There was a lot of gazing out over the Ashley River, thinking things through. I had a really good talk with my Dad during the night of his second chemo treatment--about faith, about fears, about family, about suffering.  He's ok, at least for now.  But this is hard.  

Right now my plan is to live in Charleston 1/3 of the time: about one week out of every three.  Most of the time I'll be there with either both children or my husband and children, and we'll stay in a hotel (my parents' house has one bathroom, and a cancer patient doesn't need to be sharing bathroom space all the time with 4-5 other people!).  From where I live, it's a roughly 8-9 hour drive.  We are going to do Facetime Spanish classes and Zoom ballet on our weeks down south.  I'm going to try to squeeze in as much love and laughter and care as I can.  After 2-3 cycles of chemo (3 days on, 21 days off=1 cycle), he'll have a CT scan to see if the cancer is responding.  And we'll work from there.

I wish I had time to write right now about all the things the Lord is doing during this time in our lives. I wish I had the time to write about how I KNOW He goes before us, how He has paved the way, how He is in all our tomorrows...but I don't have time right now.  

For now I'll just say that my biggest prayer right now, other than a nice long remission for my Dad (SCLC doesn't typically go into remission easily or for long) and stable sodium levels, and safe travels to and from Charleston in the coming weeks and months, is that this time in our lives will be a time where God helps us all grow in mercies, graces, faith, love, charity, and gentleness. Pray for my Dad, my stepmother, my aunt, my uncle, my children, my husband. 

The day I left for Charleston our contractor came in and demolished our bathroom.  Next time I post, I'll post a little bit about that. Going through a total bathroom renovation at the same time as this diagnosis is interesting timing (to say the least!), but I trust that it's all unfolding the way it should.  

Fear not, for I am with you. 

Yes, He always is.