My faith and my world have been shaken to their core. My current struggle with depression has skyrocketed. It was a journey that started long ago, though, we all hoped and prayed it would not be a journey we would have to take; personal choices and God's allowance of consequences determined otherwise. On May 20th of this year, our journey started with my Dad in the world of cancer. Only six letters long but such a heavy word that does not roll off of the tongue with ease. I have a hard time even saying it. If I don't speak it aloud, it's not real, right? As in, saying it out loud speaks it into existence. If only that was a realistic thought. The truth is, it is is already in existence and saying it or not does not change the fact that it already is. It has no knowledge of the phrase "comfort zone" and has no problem pushing us out of it. It is right in front of us, in our faces, invading our personal space. Barring a miracle, it isn't going away; we have to face it whether we want to or not.
I may sound gung-ho; I can tell you that I am not.
At least, not yet.
There are five identified stage of grief that are that people go through when someone they love is dying: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. The denial stage has come and gone; it didn't last very long. It is no longer deniable - each test and scan further solidifying the diagnosis of lung cancer, that it is in both lungs, and it is considered to be in Stage 4. I learned later that it is treatable, but not curable.
I hit the anger stage simultaneously. I.was.ANGRY. I knew it would probably come to this in time. Smoking for over 40 years was bound to catch up to him. And he had two older brothers pass away of the same thing, for the same reason. I will never understand how it wasn't a wake-up call for him to get the help he needed to stop smoking. And here we are. Did he know that it wouldn't be just him that it effected? We would be right there going through it with him: all of the doctor's appointments, testing, treatment, watching him experience pain and discomfort; all that comes along with cancer. I hate to think of what is to come, what he will endure, but we suffer in a different way with him. This hurts us, too; it puts us through pain and suffering, too. I wonder why we have to go through this at all. It was preventable but the outcome eventually became predictable. I am slowly moving out of this stage; I am still angry but not as much as I was. I have a right to be angry but it is not something I should dwell on. I said my piece to my Dad the day the results came in. I will not bring it up to him again; he knows. But it is a daily battle; I have to forgive and try to get through it daily.
I am now in the Depression stage. I already take medication for depression (hormonal imbalance that runs in my family). To even ask my doctor to slightly increase my dosage to "feel happy" is tempting and it would be nice to not cry so much. But it would not be healthy. It is one thing to keep myself balanced from what my body does not do on its own; it's another completely to medicate my feelings and emotions instead of dealing with them. There are a lot of emotions and it's natural to be going through them but they are hard to experience and they are heavy to carry. I would rather not deal with them at all. I feel "okay" with fleeting thoughts; I'm good at pushing down my emotions to keep from crying and completely losing it. Dwelling on the situation and possible outcomes or talking about it with others opens up the floodgates of what I have dammed up inside of me. My insomnia is occurring more frequently - I can keep my mind busy through out the day but, when all is quiet, I seem to do nothing but think about it and as tired as I may be, sleep eludes me for a while. Exhaustion definitely weighs in on the severity of my emotions and how I react to day-to-day things. I need to deal with them in a healthy way (Matthew 11:28). I am sad to think of the physical pain that my Dad will endure, of the pain of watching him go through this; the thought of losing him is frightening and of memories that will not be made with his grandchildren breaks my heart (Deuteronomy 31:8). I want my son to have solid memories of his Grandpa. While, at 3 years old he has a great memory, he's not at the stage to solidly remember detail-for-detail accounts of special days and moments. I feel like this time is being stolen from all of our family. I am good at "what-if"s and creating scenarios in my head of things that my or may not even happen (Philippians 4:6). I think my sadness is valid and my fears are realistic but dwelling on them won't change anything. I just recently had a sweet friend tell me that "tears are prayers, too" (Psalm 56:8). I guess I have been praying a lot lately, then, though, I had never thought of it that way before. God knows what I am feeling without even saying a word; when the words are too hard to express and tears flow out instead, He understands me just as clearly as if I had spoken words aloud (Jeremiah 29:12-13). God knows the number of our days (Job 14:5), regardless of a estimation given by a doctor ([though she said he does have age and otherwise good health (other than managed diabetes) in his favor]. I hate those numbers being in my head and it's hard not to fixate on them.
I am also somewhat in the Bargaining stage, as well. Not so much in an "if You do this, then I will do this" capacity; more of just praying, albeit selfishly, that other test results be good news and the ultimate outcome of healing will be this side of heaven. Our God is a God of miracles and could make the rest of his long days cancer-free. I also know that He heals in other ways. He is the Great Physician, Jehovah-Raffa - the God who heals.
I'm not in the Acceptance stage yet. It is hard to accept what our family is experiencing and what we might be facing. We have already faced so much in the past year, watching my Grandma deteriorate slowly from dementia, passing away this past January, and now this. That is not to say that this year has not been without any positives but we have definitely been dealt with some very heavy situations. God is there to help us handle our burdens (Matthew 11:29-30). I am so very thankful for that because I can't imagine how heavy this would be without His help. And we are so very blessed with friends, church family, and family in our lives to help share and carry the burden with us.
We now wait for test results from a pancreatic biopsy performed last week, which aggravated his pancreas to the point of hospitalization for the severity of the pain. The results were supposed to be back today yet we still wait. It may or may not be cancer and it may have spread from the lungs or be its own cancer (which his father had and lived another 30-plus years). We diligently pray it is nothing serious and something else entirely but I don't know how likely that is. I don't want our family to be going through this but we are beyond that now and this is where we are. It is a daily struggle in different ways. I pray that his pain is minimal and manageable. I pray that the best course of action is decided upon for his treatment once the biopsy results come back. I pray that it will be very effective in killing off the cancer(s). I have seen the survival percentage of lung cancer patients, which is another number I have stuck in my head. I know the odds are not in his favor. But our God is bigger than any disease, number, or fear that we have. He has the ultimate say and He is the ultimate Authority. My God is big and I must pray big. And trust big (Proverbs 3:5). And have a big faith (2 Corinthians 5:7). He is in control no matter how much any of us think that we have over the situation. Nothing happens without His knowledge - nothing comes as a surprise to Him. He is All, He knows All and asks that I place complete faith in Him, no matter the outcome (Psalm 46:10). It will take some time but I will try. My Daddy is a believer. I love him so very much. I pray he tries his hardest to fight this worldly battle and grows closer to his Savior in the midst of it all (James 4:8).
This leg of our journey is just beginning. Only God knows when and where this path will end (Jeremiah 29:11). I pray we can all soon get to a point where we don't see the outcome as quite so bleak. I don't want to abandon the severe reality of the situation and what comes with it. But I can count it all grace (John 1:16).
