A Way to Live

We're at the end of a long week of chemotherapy now, having awoken bright and early every other morning to get to the hospital for morning rounds (7 a.m.) for the medication we're pinning our hopes on.  At first I kinda liked this new way of doing chemotherapy.  I falsely thought it would end up being a lot easier on me.  Trick!!  


On the face of it, it sounded pretty good- no more 4 day stays in the hospital for Phil with the horrible food, the long absences away from the kids, the long stints of my single parenting.  I really don't know what the heck I was thinking.  I mean, the man is doing chemotherapy still and is a hurting unit.  And this business of getting up at o' dark thirty to be at the hospital by 7 a.m., driving there in morning traffic?  I am a Lehmann for God's sake.  We don't DO o' dark thirty, at least not well, and certainly not arrhythmically every other day for crying out loud.  That is a one way ticket to a migraine or at least, major connective tissue pain.  My sibs ~ Anita, Terry, Cherie, Peter and Stephen ~ can I get an Amen?  You may not have to be a Lehmann to be shanked by this schedule but I can testify that it sucks big time.  I do think it is better than having Phil inpatient for 4 days for sure, but on my end, it has been pretty ugly.  Just ask my kids - they'll set you real straight.  I haven't been the Mommy I want them to remember when they look back.


Perhaps it's the mild heat wave, perhaps it's that I'm still unpacking and trying to find a place for everything and I don't like the level of chaos around me.  Perhaps it's that our house is a bit of a jalopy and keeps presenting me with opportunities to breathe deeply.  Perhaps it's that Phil and I are coming up on our 16th wedding anniversary a mere week prior to the one year anniversary of his diagnosis and both feel so deeply depleted that celebrating isn't precisely on our radar.  One things for dang sure, I am losing my ability to let things roll off my back.  Nope, things have been piling right up.  


And then, Saturday night a compassionate group of loving, generous friends and childhood neighbors, led by the amazing Kathi Taymans McShane, came together in Pittsburgh for an auction and raised nearly $10,000 on our behalf - because of Phil and who he is to them, who he was as a kid in Edgewood.  Because of cancer and the scourge it is and the way it has touched and hurt many.  Yet again, as I reflected on how sick and tired I was of being sick and tired, someone in the body of Christ came alongside to do what I could not.  Kathi showed me when I could not see or recall it to mind that God is at work through His people, surrounding us with many shoulders to carry this burden - prayerfully and financially.  Through people to love on my kids when I'm not Mommy of the year and friends who call or drop me a note to remind me I'm not living in isolation.   


Phil is in the recovery phase of his chemotherapy now.  Tired, tired, tired.  And me?  I am in crisis stage again, I just didn't recognize it for what it was until now.  I am tired, tired, tired.  I do not know what will happen for my husband or for my family.  I'll hope to know more in about three weeks.  Then there will be another decision tree and yet another path on this road.  This really isn't any way to live.  But hey, it really is.