Run Andrea Run

I wrote this in May 2007.
It is about the fatigue and endurance needed to fight cancer

Last week I watched the show "Planet Earth" on the Discovery channel. I watched the scenes of the Arctic wolves and there search for food and survival. I watched as they stalked the caribou herd, looking for the weakest, the easiest prey in the herd. In a moment the chase is on the head darts as panic strikes and the threat is sensed. The wolves pursue until the slower or weaker caribou is separated from the herd. The chase is now one caribou and one wolf. The caribou begins to run for its very life, darting and changing direction to try to shake the relentless pursuer. As I watched I could feel the exhaustion of the caribou, so tired yet to rest is certain death. He has only one option, run and keep running. But soon the caribou has no strength left and he collapses accepting the fate that awaits him. The desire to live is lost in the inability to go on. I thought to myself that is what it is like to fight cancer.

As I watched I felt the plight of the caribou. I could relate to the life and death struggle on the screen. Once you are told you have cancer you soon learn it is a relentless, forever on your mind, always making you wonder if it is about to strike back. In a way it is much like the wolf, and you are much like the caribou. You hope you don't reach the point where you are so tired that you can only drop and accept the fate that awaits you. You keep fighting but there seems to be a point where the fight is so exhausting that you just can't go on but you can't stop. That is what makes even the smallest of victories so sweet. They become resting points when you can take a break from the chase. A time to catch your breath and ready yourself for the next chase. You have to find these moments or you will lack the strength to fight. Maybe it is a day where you feel "normal" or as simple as a day without pain, just a day where you don't think or talk about cancer. As Andrea told me today, "Remind me how good I feel today next week after chemo." You have to remember that the exhaustion, fatigue, and sickness will pass and there is life after all this, otherwise you lose all hope and you will soon just stop and accept what will now be inevitable.

I also thought of how cancer comes to us, it spreads fear as those around sense the sudden closeness of cancer. We all hear of cancer but when you learn of a friend or family member with cancer it suddenly seems close and a much greater threat in your own life. I felt as if cancer has singled out Andrea for the chase. She has been fighting with all she has and the strength and the faith granted by God. She has been running, giving all she has. Times like November 2006 and Jan 2007 the cancer drew very close, nearly taking Andrea but by the grace of God she escaped the grasp of death. I can't help at times to wonder why we were chosen from the heard. But I know that God has used this and changed Andrea and me as well as many others around us. But, unlike the caribou heard that scatters when the wolves begin the chase, leaving the lone caribou to certain death our friends and family have come to our defense. Friends who have never left us alone to fend off the pursuer. Friends who write, call, send flowers, cards, meals, gifts of encouragement, and those who sit with Andrea in treatment. Those who have not scattered and left Andrea. Those who have not scattered from the fear of cancer but looked it in the eye with Andrea. Those who have shared in the suffering will share equally in the joy. When we see the exhaustion on her face, we are there encouraging Andrea to keep running, keep fighting, calling out..."Run Andrea Run!"

Last night Andrea and I were reading and came across these verses in 2 Corinthians chapter 1:3-11. I had sent these verses in a monthly update last year sometime but I love these verses and wanted to wtite them again because it expresses the way we feel about those around us and to why we sometimes have to suffer in life.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort. We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many.

View from the Lazy Boy

I wrote this in Oct 2005 after Andrea started her second round of Chemo. It is one of my favorite things I have written because it came to me the moment I sat in the chair and I wrote it in about 5 minutes. It was an amazing experience the and this is an attempt to capture the feelings that poured over me.

I want to share with you an experience of mine this past week. It brought me closer to what Andrea is going through.

It happened this past Tuesday at Andrea’s 10th chemo. Ever since this ordeal started in 2003 I have watched Andrea and I have been amazed at her strength. Although we all have gone through this with her is some form, some have been there physically and some have been there through e-mails but never the less we have all experienced a portion of what Andrea is going through. But none of us have gone where Andrea has had to go. I first felt this when Andrea was taken away to surgery. I had been there when the doctor said she had cancer and during all the decisions of what the best treatment was for her. I had immersed myself in reading about breast cancer. I even sat in the hospital room with her before her surgery, but there came a time when Andrea had to go where only she could go. It was hard to see them role her away and know she had to face that alone. I learned there were times when Andrea had to go where only she could go.

Chemo #10 is complete. The Abraxiene is hard on Andrea. She fights so hard but it is difficult to see her sick. Andrea is so strong. I know when I see her breakdown how hard it must be. Andrea does not want to stop or give in and she never shows how hard it is. But when I see her cry over the pain, and I see her express how much it hurts, I see the conflict within her. It is hard as her husband to see her hurt and know there is nothing you can do to take away the pain but to ask God to have mercy on her. I had a glimpse into her world this past Tuesday. I have seen Andrea get chemo for months. It is always the same, you sit in the Lazy-Boy chairs, they come with the bags of chemo and hook her up, and you sit and watch it drip by drip go into her. But I have always sat and faced her in that chair. The Lazy-Boy is a place reserved only for her. We all share in Andrea’s treatment in some way, some more then others. Those closest, who see her everyday, and see her at chemo, see her sick; experience this cancer and its costs more then others. Some experience it by reading e-mails. But we are all reminded of what Andrea is experiencing and we stop for a moment and give a thought or prayer for her. But this past Tuesday I got closer to her world and what she is experiencing. I only moved three feet in the physical but I crossed miles exponentially. I wish all of those who are praying for Andrea could experience what I felt.

I thought I understood what she was going through. I knew that although we were walking together there always came a time that Andrea had to go where I could never go. I first felt this when they took her away for surgery. There were times and places Andrea had to alone, I could only go so far with her and then I had to let her go. It is hard, very hard to do. I want to be there for her, to hold her hand and comfort her. But I could not go those last steps. Last Tuesday I felt this again, but it was harder then watching her go to surgery. The funny thing I never left her side, yet I found out she was still going where I could not go.
It happened on chemo day, just like any other day in the Lazy-Boy, or the chemo filling station as Andrea calls it. A place I had been far to many times. A place I have seen Andrea “hooked up” far to many times. Knowing full well she will soon be sick. It had almost become to common and to routine. We talk and laugh, trying not to notice all those around us who look one step away from death and hope we do not look the same, or hope we will not soon be in their shoes. Surely God will not have us go there. Do they look at us and think, just wait; I was once like you before chemo took its toll. Full of life and naive to the reality of cancer. Hoping against all hope I could win, knowing only a few of us will win the lottery, the lottery of life, where the grand prize is to leave this room, and return to life among the living. There are only two paths out of this room, only two reasons you do not come back. We escaped once but it was only a short respite and here we are again. Why, I do not know, but here we are.

But this Tuesday was different. It started out so normal. I would meet Andrea and Lisa at the chemo room. I would usually stay and short while and allow Andrea and Lisa some girl time. This day I stopped on my way to pick up some paint samples to get Andrea and Lisa’s opinion on what color to paint the squadron bar. I arrived one hour into and expected three-hour chemo session. But it was Tuesday after a holiday, the chemo filling station was packed and behind schedule. Andrea had yet to be hooked up. We talked and little and began to look at the colors. Andrea then got up to have her weight and blood pressure checked, then Andrea decided to go to the bathroom before this all got started and I went back to sit with Lisa. For some reason I sat in the Lazy-Boy and began to talk with Lisa.
When I sat down I got a little closer to what Andrea has been going through. You would be amazed how different the chemo room is looking from the Lazy-Boy then it is looking at the Lazy-Boy.

I had stepped closer to where Andrea has gone, where she has to go alone. As much as I could go with her to chemo only she had to sit in that chair and all that came with that chair. I felt closer to Andrea as I sat there. I felt closer to what she must feel every week. I felt closer to the struggle she must be going through. I felt closer to the fight she is fighting. I felt closer to the fear of that chair. I understood the fear she had when she knew she had to go back. The anguish of knowing you are making yourself sick. Of knowing you are bringing yourself closer to death just to have a chance at life. I felt closer but I felt the distance that reminded me that this seat was Andrea’s. I felt the space between us. I felt sadness that she had to go there. I felt closer and I felt far away at the same time. I felt I wished we were not here. I thought I understood what Andrea was going through, but I did not. I felt the enormity of the task before her. I felt the weight on her shoulders. I felt the dread of what was coming. I felt sad for my wife. I felt sad she had to go to such a place. I felt the loneliness of the Lazy-Boy.
Andrea returned, she stood before me and I looked up from the Lazy-Boy and all I could say was…I’m sorry.
I’m sorry you have to sit here. I’m sorry you have to face this. I’m sorry you are sick. I’m sorry you are scared. I’m sorry you have to go here alone.

So when I see Andrea hurting but still going, when I see her cry from the pain, when I see her tired from the fight, when I see chemo take it’s toll, when I watch her vomit, when I see her hair fall out in clumps, when I see her eyelashes thin, and when I see her put on her makeup. I see her trying to hold onto normalcy, to hold onto her womanhood. I see her try to keep life normal to be my wife, to cook for her family. I see her fighting not to give into the Lazy-Boy. Because if you stop all these things you give into the reality of the Lazy-Boy. You get one step closer to those others in the chemo room who are so weak and tired from the fight there is no fight left in them. The Lazy-Boy is their only hope to live, but it is sucking the life out of them.

I know Andrea does not want to give into to Lazy-Boy. She is a fighter and that combined with her faith is her greatest asset and our greatest hope to get out of the Lazy-Boy. God has made her so special. I love her so much. She touches so many people. I think it is because she is so small physically her strength seems disproportional to her size. She inspires with her drive to keep her life normal. When she puts mascara on those last few eyelashes she shows her determination to hold onto life. Those of us around her are challenged in our own life by her example. When Andrea goes out she is always fixed up, matching her scarves to her outfit. I think people are surprised, I think people expect to see Andrea beaten down, but she is not. They have no idea of the fight that Andrea is in, or how much fight Andrea has in her. None of us will ever know unless, God forbid, we have to face the Lazy-Boy and face the reality of that chair. Last Tuesday I felt a glimpse of the Lazy-Boy and the road Andrea walks alone, and I’m even more impressed and humbled by Andrea.

Andrea's Psalm

The book of Psalms is Andrea's favorite book and this a Psalm she wrote last year.

Praise God, my redeemer
You are my savior
My soul is captured by you
You alone sustain me

Praise God my healer
You are my strength
I worship only you
You renew my being

You created heaven and earth
There is nothing made that you did not make
The earth rejoices at the sound of your name
The heavens silently speak of your glory
Heaven and earth honor you

Abundant blessings come from you.
Without ceasing I praise you
The sound of your name fills me with rejoicing
I am your daughter
To you I belong

You never leave me
I will never be abandoned
You, O Lord, orchestrate my days
And order my nights
Your provisions cannot be contained
My fullness overflows

Praise God for you are my answer
When my soul sinks with sorrow you rescue me
When I go where I must go alone
I find you there
When fear stalks me
You cover me with peace