It looks like good news is on its way! I just took a cycle on Thursday (slept through the ENTIRE thing) and that means that I have two more to go before they do another scan. As good as my results were last time, I'm hoping for THE good news this time: The R word!
Meanwhile, I still have those mental and physical battles that try and draw me deeper into depression. I caught myself not wanting to be alone but not wanting to be with anyone else either. Long ago, chemo, cancer or worry robbed me of the joy of reading. The meds make it really hard to get any exercise. I'm not supposed to be in the sun. Sometimes it gets hard to pray, not out of anger or anything like that, just because...I guess it means facing what I don't want to face.
But I DID catch myself! I caught myself in the mirror and didn't like who I saw. I saw Old Jeremy, Past Jeremy, Scared Jeremy. That won't do. I kicked him out a long time ago and I'm not about to let him back in now.
So I devised a plan. A daily to-do list to make sure I stay on track. At first I started adding things like "Change your attitude". Fffpt!!! What a load of crock. That's not something I could live up to. So I decided it'd be better to make a small list of very reasonable, doable things that I knew would also have a fairly big impact on my mood and outlook.
For instance, "Spend a little time every day on a relationship. You were made to be with people. Strengthen family ties, strengthen friendships. Call someone, write someone, visit someone. Invest a little of your time on people that you love"
And "Get OUT! Go for a walk with Poe, go read on the patio, go visit friends, but get the heck out! You are not "Shut-in Jeremy" anymore, he's dead. YOU are a Champion!!!"
"Talk to God everyday, I don't care what time, but if you haven't done it before your head hits the pillow, do it then. God loves you Jeremy, he forgives you. Do NOT let the enemy make His sacrifice of so little effect. He died for you, talk to Him! You are MORE than a Conqueror!"
Also on the list are training Poe (my dog), reading Scripture every day, making sure I've done at least one chore before bed and one rule which defies Doctor's orders: Get some SUN. Not much does the soul better than sunshine.
I call this plan the Damascus Plan because I wanna see the light again. :) If ya didn't catch that reference read the book of Acts. Its nothing major, just small things and so far its helped a lot. Maybe if your going through the same thing you could come up with your own Damascus plan.
Keep your head up, fighter.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Milestones and Glass Houses
About a month ago I hit my fouth cycle of chemo. That's the halfway mark. It was a big deal to my doctors and to my family and friends. I was excited too, but more anxious than anything.I didnt want to let myself get too excited, from the beginning I've forced myself to be as ready as I can be for bad news. So I didnt want to over celebrate or get anybody's hopes up.
Just recently coming out of a very hard depression, it is really difficult to put down in words how I was feeling. I felt doomed either way. But one thing God has been doing in my life lately is bringing more and more fellow fighters into my world. Kathy has terminal cancer, she always sits across from me at the infusion center. She and her husband used to own the local Sonic. She grins and laughs all the time and every once in a while you can see a bit of fear come through.
Phillip found out that he not only has stage 4 non-hodgkins lymphoma, but also that he has stage 4 Hodgkin's lymphoma. He's a great guy, very witty, has a beautiful loving family and is very optomistic.
Lisa has stage 4 bone cancer and stage 4 faith. She's an amazing woman who looks life and death right in the eyes and is thankful for all that she has.
April is my age and has breast cancer. To me it seems like she is forever going to get treatment. I dont know how she does it while also getting her Masters Degree. She is always brave and unselfish and full of faith.
Rick is a friend from my church. Not too long after I found out I had lymphoma, so did he. He's a very kind man who loves his family, they arent hard to love.
My mind tries to find a word to classify these people. "Hero" isnt enough. Diamonds in the making. Icons of Strength and Faith and Nobility. The truth is they are just humans but because of their cicrumstances and the actions and reactions to those circumstances they've become, maybe just a little MORE human than the rest of us.
I'm thankful for my milestones and for these extraodinary people God has put in my path. I'm also happy to report that my latest scans have shown significant shrinkage of my tumors. Many are not even there anymore. My biggest tumor is now less than half its original size!
Christ was telling the truth that it only takes faith the size of a mustardseed, because my faith has had its ups and downs, but even at its weakest it helped me to endure and thats what its all about.
Thank you for your enduring prayers and support and mostly for your sincere love. God bless you!
Just recently coming out of a very hard depression, it is really difficult to put down in words how I was feeling. I felt doomed either way. But one thing God has been doing in my life lately is bringing more and more fellow fighters into my world. Kathy has terminal cancer, she always sits across from me at the infusion center. She and her husband used to own the local Sonic. She grins and laughs all the time and every once in a while you can see a bit of fear come through.
Phillip found out that he not only has stage 4 non-hodgkins lymphoma, but also that he has stage 4 Hodgkin's lymphoma. He's a great guy, very witty, has a beautiful loving family and is very optomistic.
Lisa has stage 4 bone cancer and stage 4 faith. She's an amazing woman who looks life and death right in the eyes and is thankful for all that she has.
April is my age and has breast cancer. To me it seems like she is forever going to get treatment. I dont know how she does it while also getting her Masters Degree. She is always brave and unselfish and full of faith.
Rick is a friend from my church. Not too long after I found out I had lymphoma, so did he. He's a very kind man who loves his family, they arent hard to love.
My mind tries to find a word to classify these people. "Hero" isnt enough. Diamonds in the making. Icons of Strength and Faith and Nobility. The truth is they are just humans but because of their cicrumstances and the actions and reactions to those circumstances they've become, maybe just a little MORE human than the rest of us.
I'm thankful for my milestones and for these extraodinary people God has put in my path. I'm also happy to report that my latest scans have shown significant shrinkage of my tumors. Many are not even there anymore. My biggest tumor is now less than half its original size!
Christ was telling the truth that it only takes faith the size of a mustardseed, because my faith has had its ups and downs, but even at its weakest it helped me to endure and thats what its all about.
Thank you for your enduring prayers and support and mostly for your sincere love. God bless you!
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Back
I started my 4th cycle last Thursday. So far the sickness has been manageable.
For everyone who has been checking this blog, I apologize for not having updated it recently. After my third cycle I just sort of drifted away and became very distant. I've felt so detached from reality. The bad part is, I guess, that I kind of enjoy it.
I enjoy being alone and hiding. If no one is around, I don't have to talk about cancer, I don't have to smile. No one should have to smile when they talk about cancer.
But then when I AM around people I don't enjoy it. I feel guilty, I feel selfish. I AM selfish. I know so many people who are going through what I'm going through and worse and they are handling it so much better. I'm ashamed to admit how depressed and scared I am.
I'm so afraid of the future. I'm getting tested next week to see how the cancer has responded to the chemo. No matter what the answer is I'm afraid of it. The scariest answer is "the cancer hasn't responded at all". Next is "The cancer is responding but it will still take some time" and even the so called "good news" scares me, "The cancer's gone, you're in remission". What then? I'm just suppose to go on as if it never happened? Go back to my old job, go back to being happy?
But things wont be the same. I'll be working at that old job to pay off the $50,000 I owe. Happy? Even if I go into remission the chances are high that the cancer will come back within four years. There are so many scars, mentally and physically and I don't feel like I can ever be me again.
I hate this side of myself. I wouldn't be honest if I didn't share it. I knew I wasn't strong enough when I started this journey, but then, so did God. My prayer is still the same "God give me strength to bear this well and to be a good example." I don't feel like I'm doing much of either, but I'll just have to trust God on that.
I want to thank everyone for their constant support and love and ask for your forgiveness for my selfishness and for my distance. It will pass. Love is the key thing. It never stops, never dies, never gives up. I'm surrounded by love so I must be on the right track. God bless.
For everyone who has been checking this blog, I apologize for not having updated it recently. After my third cycle I just sort of drifted away and became very distant. I've felt so detached from reality. The bad part is, I guess, that I kind of enjoy it.
I enjoy being alone and hiding. If no one is around, I don't have to talk about cancer, I don't have to smile. No one should have to smile when they talk about cancer.
But then when I AM around people I don't enjoy it. I feel guilty, I feel selfish. I AM selfish. I know so many people who are going through what I'm going through and worse and they are handling it so much better. I'm ashamed to admit how depressed and scared I am.
I'm so afraid of the future. I'm getting tested next week to see how the cancer has responded to the chemo. No matter what the answer is I'm afraid of it. The scariest answer is "the cancer hasn't responded at all". Next is "The cancer is responding but it will still take some time" and even the so called "good news" scares me, "The cancer's gone, you're in remission". What then? I'm just suppose to go on as if it never happened? Go back to my old job, go back to being happy?
But things wont be the same. I'll be working at that old job to pay off the $50,000 I owe. Happy? Even if I go into remission the chances are high that the cancer will come back within four years. There are so many scars, mentally and physically and I don't feel like I can ever be me again.
I hate this side of myself. I wouldn't be honest if I didn't share it. I knew I wasn't strong enough when I started this journey, but then, so did God. My prayer is still the same "God give me strength to bear this well and to be a good example." I don't feel like I'm doing much of either, but I'll just have to trust God on that.
I want to thank everyone for their constant support and love and ask for your forgiveness for my selfishness and for my distance. It will pass. Love is the key thing. It never stops, never dies, never gives up. I'm surrounded by love so I must be on the right track. God bless.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
The Man With The Gun
I took my second treatment on Thursday. It took nearly 8 hours. The room was freezing and the place was overcrowded.
I'm not gonna lie, I was disappointed at the lack of privacy, Seems like it should be a very private thing. But no, you just sit down in any particular recliner not occupied at that moment and eventually some nice lady comes over and sticks some tube into your port and there you have it. Chemo begins.
Now, here I am in this room full of fellow cancer fighters and chemo patients and there's one sound I wasn't expecting to hear: laughter. Most of these people have to come in every single week and so they all know each other by name. It was nice to hear the laughter. I'm glad I haven't been the only one laughing. Sometimes my family or friends will sort of get onto me for the jokes I make, but the way I see it I'd rather laugh at it. My late grandmother always said "If I didn't laugh, I'd cry". I do plenty of the latter so I may as well do some of the former as well.
Now, you'd think I would start to feel right at home here in this little cancer fighter communion, but you'd be wrong. I had a handicap. I was at least 40 years younger than anyone else there. I've always gotten along better with people older than myself. But for some reason I was let down that there was no one my age there, no one who I could really identify with.
But still 8 hours gives plenty of time to bond. It was so nice to hear all the people talk about the ups and downs of chemo, about how the doctors finally found their cancers, almost always by accident. It was nice to hear that I was not the only one who couldn't seem to talk about anything else but cancer.
Just in the past few days alone some close friends have asked me if I ever get tired of talking about cancer. Yes, I really do. But at the same time I don't know what else to talk about. It feels as though a man has a gun to my head 24/7. I don't know how to ignore him. He's constantly on my mind and when I speak Its difficult not to mention him.
But there in the chemo ward everyone had their own gunman, and we all listened and shared our stories and our pains and our jokes. And I didn't feel so alone. Its hard to explain, since my own brother is a cancer survivor and went through almost the exact same thing. Not only him but I have many friends who fought and overcame cancer and it helps to talk with them but somehow it doesn't help the loneliness. They HAD cancer and won, their gunmen are dead. Mine's got his hand on the trigger.
So, it was nice to listen and share a bit and just feel like I wasn't the craziest person in the world, or the sickest. Why do you have to see the suffering of others to realize how fortunate you really are? There was a sweet old man there with lung cancer. His son and daughter were there with him. They used to own a pet monkey that their dad had bought them in Miami. He loves to eat food from a place called Sharkey's or Duke's. His chemo isn't designed to put him into remission, its designed to push back the inevitable. But he sat there, laughing with his kids about a monkey they'd had 30 years ago and eating his Zaxby's chicken with a smile on his face.
Ken came in towards the end of the day. He was the youngest guy I'd seen there besides myself. He was probably in his forties. He gave everyone a mint. He grinned from ear to ear and made a lot of little jokes. He looked perfectly healthy to me.
Ken was very friendly and outgoing and automatically reminded me and my brother of a friend of ours from Carrollton, Ga. Ken started to ask me how old I was and where my cancer was. I told him. "How about you?" I asked. "Brain cancer" he said.
Ken was a driver for Mohawk and taught kickboxing on the side. One day he took a kick to the head that he just couldn't get over. He went in for some tests and found a tumor the size of an orange in his brain. Without hesitation his doctor told him he only had 2 years to live.
Ken's had two surgeries and started experimental treatments. He just recently gave his life to Christ and couldn't be happier to tell you about it. Since he was diagnosed last May they say the tumor has started shrinking.
Remember these men and women, the guns are to their heads but they keep on living and laughing anyway. Say a prayer for them for healing and strength. Say a prayer of thanks to God that for today at least, the gun's not at your head.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
The Good, the Bad & the Chihuahua
The past few days have been great! By far this has been the best week of the chemo treatment. Sadly it is also the last week of my first chemo which means its time to start chemo treatment #2 and start this whole cycle over again.
The chemo hit me harder than I or my doctors expected it to. There were also unexpected side effects of the chemo that caused some serious complications (see the post titled "RED" for details). The thing about being a cancer patient on chemotherapy is you need double prayers. You need prayes for the awful things the cancer is doing to your body AND you need prayers for the awful things the treatment is doing to your body.
Not just your body, but your mind as well. My mind has been put to the test and I've only just begun. My emotions are all over the place. I try to keep a possitive outlook but thats not always easy especially with my long history of depression. On my last visit with my doctor I asked for some medicine to help with that. Its called Zoloft. Let's hope and pray it will help make things a little easier.
But, as far as the body goes, mine just isn't quite up to par anymore. My knees are weak and stairs are my enemies. Nine hours of sleep and three or four naps a day aren't quite enough to keep me rested. If you want to see me winded, ask me to walk across the room. As it turns out, ingesting your own blood does some pretty strange things to your body as well, but we wont go into that. Have I mentioned how much I miss my hair?
As bad and sad as all that is, there is good news to be had and to be shared. First, God is good and willing to save. Second, the chemo has knocked out the pain in my chest, the constant fevers and the disgusting night sweats! Third, I'm learning some serious lessons in humility. There are people, complete strangers, all over God's green earth calling out my name to God. Thats humbling.
Fourth, Poe came home! Poe is my Chihuahua mix puppy. I got him for Christmas from a friend just weeks before I found out about the tumor. He came into my life at just the right time. When I was in the hospital he had to go stay with my brother and his family and I've missed the little stinker very much. But now he's home where he belongs and so am I.
Since my first chemo was so difficult I'm feeling anxious about the next. But I still have faith in God, look what He's done so far. My friend Donnie Fritts has been fighting an ubelievable battle with a very rare cancer and its long lasting effects on his body and mind, but he's been fighting it with faith. His wife, Sharon sings a song called "Through It All", it's their testimony. I hope they dont mind if I steal a verse. Because, while all of this may be overwhelming and sometimes terrifying, God is faithful to His promises. He will not forsake me. He will not make me walk alone, so:
I Thank God For The Mountains,
And I Thank Him For The Valleys,
I Thank Him For The Storms He Brought Me Through.
For If I'd Never Had A Problem,
I Wouldn't Know God Could Solve Them,
I'd Never Know What Faith In God Could Do
This battle I'm fighting, I'm not the only one. And its not just cancer patients, its every person out there who has a mountain in front of them, but keeps on climbing or a thorn in their side, but keeps on going its every person who has believed in the name and the power and the sacrifice of Jesus Christ who, without ever having seen him, trust him with their lives. Keep believing, keep climbing, keep going and keep fighting.
"Fight the good fight of faith" - 1 Timothy 6:12
The chemo hit me harder than I or my doctors expected it to. There were also unexpected side effects of the chemo that caused some serious complications (see the post titled "RED" for details). The thing about being a cancer patient on chemotherapy is you need double prayers. You need prayes for the awful things the cancer is doing to your body AND you need prayers for the awful things the treatment is doing to your body.
Not just your body, but your mind as well. My mind has been put to the test and I've only just begun. My emotions are all over the place. I try to keep a possitive outlook but thats not always easy especially with my long history of depression. On my last visit with my doctor I asked for some medicine to help with that. Its called Zoloft. Let's hope and pray it will help make things a little easier.
But, as far as the body goes, mine just isn't quite up to par anymore. My knees are weak and stairs are my enemies. Nine hours of sleep and three or four naps a day aren't quite enough to keep me rested. If you want to see me winded, ask me to walk across the room. As it turns out, ingesting your own blood does some pretty strange things to your body as well, but we wont go into that. Have I mentioned how much I miss my hair?
As bad and sad as all that is, there is good news to be had and to be shared. First, God is good and willing to save. Second, the chemo has knocked out the pain in my chest, the constant fevers and the disgusting night sweats! Third, I'm learning some serious lessons in humility. There are people, complete strangers, all over God's green earth calling out my name to God. Thats humbling.
Fourth, Poe came home! Poe is my Chihuahua mix puppy. I got him for Christmas from a friend just weeks before I found out about the tumor. He came into my life at just the right time. When I was in the hospital he had to go stay with my brother and his family and I've missed the little stinker very much. But now he's home where he belongs and so am I.
Since my first chemo was so difficult I'm feeling anxious about the next. But I still have faith in God, look what He's done so far. My friend Donnie Fritts has been fighting an ubelievable battle with a very rare cancer and its long lasting effects on his body and mind, but he's been fighting it with faith. His wife, Sharon sings a song called "Through It All", it's their testimony. I hope they dont mind if I steal a verse. Because, while all of this may be overwhelming and sometimes terrifying, God is faithful to His promises. He will not forsake me. He will not make me walk alone, so:
I Thank God For The Mountains,
And I Thank Him For The Valleys,
I Thank Him For The Storms He Brought Me Through.
For If I'd Never Had A Problem,
I Wouldn't Know God Could Solve Them,
I'd Never Know What Faith In God Could Do
This battle I'm fighting, I'm not the only one. And its not just cancer patients, its every person out there who has a mountain in front of them, but keeps on climbing or a thorn in their side, but keeps on going its every person who has believed in the name and the power and the sacrifice of Jesus Christ who, without ever having seen him, trust him with their lives. Keep believing, keep climbing, keep going and keep fighting.
"Fight the good fight of faith" - 1 Timothy 6:12
Friday, February 11, 2011
Sad Eyes
Today my hair fell out.
I knew it was coming and I tried my hardest to prepare myself for it. I remember the night Josh's hair fell out. He knocked on my door and woke me up. He was standing there in the hall with such sad eyes and an open palm with a lock of hair in it.
I have to admit, I didn't really understand why he was quite so upset, we knew this was coming. Seemed like out of all the horrible things he had to go through that losing his hair would've been the easiest. But it wasn't.
When I realized my hair was coming out the other day, it was not a great moment, but it wasn't too hard of a one either. But, today, when it all started coming out and I saw myself in the mirror for the first time, I saw my brother's sad eyes in my own reflection. It hit me hard.
Its not just the vanity of it. Yes, I hate losing my hair, I quite liked it. I may have had a bit of a receding hairline but I still had hair. Its the reminder that this is not just a dream, its a reality. I'm not just changed on the inside, now its out there for everyone to see. Now I'm branded: CANCER PATIENT
I'll be alright. I will learn to be proud of it. Not just a brand to show people that I have cancer but a brand to show people that I'm fighting that cancer. And I plan on winning.
I knew it was coming and I tried my hardest to prepare myself for it. I remember the night Josh's hair fell out. He knocked on my door and woke me up. He was standing there in the hall with such sad eyes and an open palm with a lock of hair in it.
I have to admit, I didn't really understand why he was quite so upset, we knew this was coming. Seemed like out of all the horrible things he had to go through that losing his hair would've been the easiest. But it wasn't.
When I realized my hair was coming out the other day, it was not a great moment, but it wasn't too hard of a one either. But, today, when it all started coming out and I saw myself in the mirror for the first time, I saw my brother's sad eyes in my own reflection. It hit me hard.
Its not just the vanity of it. Yes, I hate losing my hair, I quite liked it. I may have had a bit of a receding hairline but I still had hair. Its the reminder that this is not just a dream, its a reality. I'm not just changed on the inside, now its out there for everyone to see. Now I'm branded: CANCER PATIENT
I'll be alright. I will learn to be proud of it. Not just a brand to show people that I have cancer but a brand to show people that I'm fighting that cancer. And I plan on winning.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
RED
I apologize for not having updated the blog lately. I have been in the hospital.
Last Tuesday I was feeling pretty bad from the chemo. I had asked my dad to bring me a nausea pill and something to drink, which he did. A few minutes later I felt that awful pull in my stomach and, being too weak to get up and go to the bathroom, I calmly asked Dad to bring me a garbage can.
He calmly walked to the bathroom, calmly got the garbage pale, walked calmly past me and into the kitchen. He calmly dumped the contents of the pale into the kitchen garbage and calmly added a new bag to the pale.
He then picked up the pale, calmly walked back into the living room and placed the pale next to me. He calmly walked back to the kitchen to tend to my never calm Chihuahua puppy. As he did so, I calmly slid off of the couch, slightly amused by Dad's attention to detail in the face impending unpleasantness. As soon as I hit the floor, I set to business with the garbage can.
RED.
That's odd, I thought. "Dad?" I calmly asked into the air. My eyes not leaving the redness.
"Yes, son?" He calmly replied.
"What color was the drink you gave me?"
"It was a Sprite, it was clear. Why?"
"Then why is this red?" I calmly pondered. Oh! I realized.
Calmness faded away and so did I. My blood pressure dropped significantly, I drooped over the garbage can unable to hold myself up. I couldn't move, I could barely speak.
Its red.My dad was by my side I could hear my mother calling an ambulance.
Its red...The world started to drift away. I couldn't feel. I couldn't think.
Its red!I was fading. I could see colors, organic, earthy colors and something was opening in front of me, something also very organic looking. I've passed out before. But I've never experienced anything like that. I think I was doing more than just losing consciousness. As I watched the thing open in front of me I was suddenly jolted by a voice saying "FIGHT, Jeremy! You can fight this!"
The organic opening reversed itself, the colors did as well and suddenly light came back to my eyes. My dad was still by my side holding my hand. My mom was opening the door for the EMT's.
I was taken to the ER. They needed to find out why I was bleeding internally. Unfortunately a blood test revealed that I was neutropenic. Neutropenia, is a deficiency of white blood cells which are what the body uses to fight of infections. A common cold could have killed me. The neutropenia is a side effect of my chemotherapy, it was expected and is temporary, but it created a problem: I needed an endoscopy to find out why I was bleeding, but they couldn't do that unless I was able to fight off any infections I might get from the process.
I was admitted to the hospital and put on an IV and antibiotics. I vomited up blood once more again the next day. Alot of it. My blood pressure slowly returned to a near normal level but my white blood cells were being stubborn. By Friday I was still neutropenic and my hemoglobins (red blood cells) were still low due to the blood loss. I needed a blood transfusion.
I spent 6 days in the hospital. Never left the room. Only left the bed three times. My dad was with me the entire time. My brother, Josh and mother had gotten sick and were not allowed near me. My brother, Jason spent the second night with me and held my hand as I faded in and out of consciousness. Then he also got sick and could not come.
My father is amazing. He also held my hand, and he prayed and waited and tolerated the freezing cold room (I was burning up) and waited on me hand and foot. He washed me with a cold cloth when I was most nauseated and took care of me in every way possible.
The hospital, mixed with still dealing with the cancer diagnosis, the fear of not knowing why I was vomiting blood and the time all conspire against the mind. My enemy used this time to break me down and attack me. I had the worst and most painful night of my life that Saturday.
The devil tried his hardest to give me every reason to turn my back on my faith, to curse God. But he doesn't understand me. He doesn't understand God. I love God, not just for what I can get but for Who God is. He is worthy to be loved, worthy to be trusted. I had asked God to be my Overcomer. Even though it was hard and painful and the scars will always remain, I overcame the hardest night. My dad was there too. Praying me through, reading Psalm 91:
"This I declare about the Lord:
He alone is my refuge, my place of safety;
he is my God, and I trust him."
"Do not be afraid of the terrors of the night"
"The Lord says, 'I will rescue those who love me.
I will protect those who trust in my name.
When they call on me, I will answer;
I will be with them in trouble.
I will rescue and honor them.
I will reward them with a long life
and give them my salvation.'"
Finally, I got good news. My white blood cell count had come back up. They did the endoscopy. More good news: the bleeding had stopped. It was caused by an ulcer in my Cardia, which is the end of the Esophagus and the beginning of the Stomach. It was healing. They suspect there was a lymphoma there and that the chemo had disolved it, leaving the wound.
More good news: I could go home.
Its good to be home :)
Last Tuesday I was feeling pretty bad from the chemo. I had asked my dad to bring me a nausea pill and something to drink, which he did. A few minutes later I felt that awful pull in my stomach and, being too weak to get up and go to the bathroom, I calmly asked Dad to bring me a garbage can.
He calmly walked to the bathroom, calmly got the garbage pale, walked calmly past me and into the kitchen. He calmly dumped the contents of the pale into the kitchen garbage and calmly added a new bag to the pale.
He then picked up the pale, calmly walked back into the living room and placed the pale next to me. He calmly walked back to the kitchen to tend to my never calm Chihuahua puppy. As he did so, I calmly slid off of the couch, slightly amused by Dad's attention to detail in the face impending unpleasantness. As soon as I hit the floor, I set to business with the garbage can.
RED.
That's odd, I thought. "Dad?" I calmly asked into the air. My eyes not leaving the redness.
"Yes, son?" He calmly replied.
"What color was the drink you gave me?"
"It was a Sprite, it was clear. Why?"
"Then why is this red?" I calmly pondered. Oh! I realized.
Calmness faded away and so did I. My blood pressure dropped significantly, I drooped over the garbage can unable to hold myself up. I couldn't move, I could barely speak.
Its red.My dad was by my side I could hear my mother calling an ambulance.
Its red...The world started to drift away. I couldn't feel. I couldn't think.
Its red!I was fading. I could see colors, organic, earthy colors and something was opening in front of me, something also very organic looking. I've passed out before. But I've never experienced anything like that. I think I was doing more than just losing consciousness. As I watched the thing open in front of me I was suddenly jolted by a voice saying "FIGHT, Jeremy! You can fight this!"
The organic opening reversed itself, the colors did as well and suddenly light came back to my eyes. My dad was still by my side holding my hand. My mom was opening the door for the EMT's.
I was taken to the ER. They needed to find out why I was bleeding internally. Unfortunately a blood test revealed that I was neutropenic. Neutropenia, is a deficiency of white blood cells which are what the body uses to fight of infections. A common cold could have killed me. The neutropenia is a side effect of my chemotherapy, it was expected and is temporary, but it created a problem: I needed an endoscopy to find out why I was bleeding, but they couldn't do that unless I was able to fight off any infections I might get from the process.
I was admitted to the hospital and put on an IV and antibiotics. I vomited up blood once more again the next day. Alot of it. My blood pressure slowly returned to a near normal level but my white blood cells were being stubborn. By Friday I was still neutropenic and my hemoglobins (red blood cells) were still low due to the blood loss. I needed a blood transfusion.
I spent 6 days in the hospital. Never left the room. Only left the bed three times. My dad was with me the entire time. My brother, Josh and mother had gotten sick and were not allowed near me. My brother, Jason spent the second night with me and held my hand as I faded in and out of consciousness. Then he also got sick and could not come.
My father is amazing. He also held my hand, and he prayed and waited and tolerated the freezing cold room (I was burning up) and waited on me hand and foot. He washed me with a cold cloth when I was most nauseated and took care of me in every way possible.
The hospital, mixed with still dealing with the cancer diagnosis, the fear of not knowing why I was vomiting blood and the time all conspire against the mind. My enemy used this time to break me down and attack me. I had the worst and most painful night of my life that Saturday.
The devil tried his hardest to give me every reason to turn my back on my faith, to curse God. But he doesn't understand me. He doesn't understand God. I love God, not just for what I can get but for Who God is. He is worthy to be loved, worthy to be trusted. I had asked God to be my Overcomer. Even though it was hard and painful and the scars will always remain, I overcame the hardest night. My dad was there too. Praying me through, reading Psalm 91:
"This I declare about the Lord:
He alone is my refuge, my place of safety;
he is my God, and I trust him."
"Do not be afraid of the terrors of the night"
"The Lord says, 'I will rescue those who love me.
I will protect those who trust in my name.
When they call on me, I will answer;
I will be with them in trouble.
I will rescue and honor them.
I will reward them with a long life
and give them my salvation.'"
Finally, I got good news. My white blood cell count had come back up. They did the endoscopy. More good news: the bleeding had stopped. It was caused by an ulcer in my Cardia, which is the end of the Esophagus and the beginning of the Stomach. It was healing. They suspect there was a lymphoma there and that the chemo had disolved it, leaving the wound.
More good news: I could go home.
Its good to be home :)
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