Home At Last...My Story Continues

Rev. 19:1 “ And after these things I heard a great voice of much people in heaven, saying, Alleluia; Salvation, and glory, and honour, and power, unto the Lord our God:”

Home at last...

Driving home for the first time in twenty days felt strange as I had not really been in the outside air except for the three-minute drive from nursing home to the hospital across the road. I opened the window and let the cool breeze kiss my face as the sun hugged me, welcoming me. Yes, there was sun instead of clouds on this day of my release from rehab.

I was a little nervous heading home because I had no idea what uncertainty was going to meet me at the door. All I knew was that it was home, and I was finally going there, a safe haven in which to rest. What felt like months in the hospital being shuffled from hospital to nursing home, to radiation on my leg, to the primary doctor and back to the hospital, it was all coming to a nerve-wracking end because I’d have to trust my husband on a different level more than anything right now.

My husband had been put through the wringer, thrown in the dryer and left there to wrinkle. In other words, this man was frazzled beyond recognition. I could see him in there but his mind, it looked as if it had been thrown in the frying pan and left to sizzle. No one noticed this, not his mother, his sister, no one but me and my son because we had to deal with him daily.  He was forgetful, distant at times, and extremely self-centered. He was trying to regain control of the world he lost,  something that looked normal but he knew, that time was a ways off in the months that lie ahead.

In the twenty days I was in the hospital he had locked his keys in the car at least three times, he had forgotten what I asked for from home almost daily and he had slept on the hard hospital sofa for ten days, not wanting to leave me alone in the hospital but was made to leave me in a nursing home and that laid guilt on him. I’m not telling you this so you can laugh and make fun, I’m sharing this because here was a dedicated-to-his-wife man, who had very recently put his dog to rest, now made to deal with his wife, not being the beautiful dependable homemaker that he fell in love with. He was wearing thin on many levels and it hurt me to watch.

Now he was driving me home where my care would be solely left up to him. Sure, a home healthcare nurse would come by twice a week, but as you know, there are seven days in a week. I  believe any man would be anxious in this situation where twenty days ago he didn’t know if his wife was going to live or die, it looked that grim from their perspectives. Sure his mom would offer to make a meal or two, but he needed more, more that none of us could give.

Now sitting in front of the house drew tears from my eyes like water from a well. I was no longer looking out a window hoping and praying, I was home, prayers answered. The tears flowed effortlessly before I even tried getting out of the car. Hubby was removing the wheelchair from the trunk, my son came from inside offering to help and I just wanted to sit there in the car and drink the reality of it all in. “Why not unload the car and let me sit here a few minutes?”

They complied and began carrying in vases and stuffed animals, blankets and clothes, boxes and bows. I was home. The shabby little rental house isn’t all that much to look at, but it has been my home for ten years, one where I made it a flower-rimmed home that even the owner of the property had mentioned how well tended this place was. Amazing what love can turn into beauty in the midst of ugly. I was home.

I called out to Riley, the dog who wandered onto the property two years ago as a stray and never left. Riley, who was nowhere to be seen, nor had been for some days the guys said. I called out and told her to come home, I’m here. She would come eventually, she always does. The guys said that when they put food out for her, it disappeared, but they never really caught a glimpse of her. 

I had to swing my pained legs out the door. I would need to get back into the car on Friday and all the days of doctor visits, so this has to go well! I pivoted to the wheelchair, gently sat, and after taking a deep inhale was pushed forward up my RAMP, that my bro-in-law built with no questions asked (or funds for that matter!)

Once safely in the front door, my eyes opened to a cascade of tears, I just sat and bawled my eyes out, crying, “I’m home! I’m home!” There was joy and fear, anxiety and pain but there was also my Lord waiting to carry any burden I brought home with me. 

I’ll continue this story in the coming weeks as I continue healing but today being New Year's Eve, you need to know how far I’ve come and am at on this day, two short months since I was released from what I deemed ‘the hellholes’!

My cancer markers have gone down drastically, leaving the doctors scratching their heads in amazement. The markers began in September at 2775, dropped in October to 1500, then to 875 in November! What do they mean? Cancer no longer likes living in my body- for now, I move on.

When I was released from rehab on October 5th, I was on a strict no weight-bearing regimen! I could not put any weight on my left leg and minimal on my right! 
Today, I still use the wheelchair but I walk with a walker (in the house and at physical therapy) and have just started practicing with a cane! 

My doctors, plural, have admitted that it was not just the oral-chemo that has had this miraculous change in my healing. Whatever I was doing (alternatively) was obviously in play here and working on healing me! 

The radiation I received for ten days was to my femur where they said cancer had spread, radiation zapped it away. More astonishing to the doc’s was the rare way my body was handling everything. No vomiting, eating regularly, no diarrhea, no pink peeling skin, no mouth sores, no fevers, etc. I was what the nurse said, “Our poster child for what stage 4 cancer healing SHOULD look like!" Words like awesome, amazing, fascinating were frequently heard with each office visit or from anyone I came in contact with really.

This weekend for the first time in three months, I reclaimed my home! Taking my time and being ever so cautious, I dusted and vacuumed, washed, dried, folded and put away two loads of laundry. I’m releasing my husband of those duties and hopefully, he can find healing also. 

What do I say is my source of healing? My God! Simply put, my AMAZING GOD! Prayer and the support of my friends and family. I never allowed my faith to wane, my trust in the Lord grew stronger. Through each pain, every sorrowful step that brought tears to my eyes, I cried out louder to my God, Thank you, Jesus! 

Now, what do I see for the NEW YEAR? My faith growing even stronger, my sharing of this miraculous healing with any and all, and I see the colors of the rainbow flourishing in my garden this spring. I see me walking around the house talking to my animals and giving my Riley plenty of belly rubs! Yes, she appeared when she sensed I was home. (It didn’t take too long)

I’m home… home at last! 

HAPPY NEW YEAR, my Spiritual Family! I could’ve never made it without your continued prayers and support!

Pss. 30:2 “O LORD my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me.”

The Story Continued ~ ER 3

Job 27:3 “All the while my breath is in me, and the spirit of God is in my nostrils;”

You might not see ER visits as answered prayer but this second ER visit is where I got a referral to an Oncologist after this sympathetic ER doctor heard my story of being turned away from my first two oncologists.

I had told my husband and son of MY wishes and I wanted their blunt honesty in THEIR wishes. Both wanted me to live and try the chemo route, maybe my way wasn't working anymore. No, this was not my wish, but I gave into half their wish, I made an appointment to go see the oncologist doctor. I respect their wishes because I too, don’t want to die. My alternative protocol had been working all along but the stress of a dying dog was too overwhelming and my body reacted; mind, body, and soul, internally and externally.

For eight months I watched as my 14-year-old dog slowly dwindled. Right around Christmas of 2017, she showed signs of her arthritis winning the battle of her bones. She was not making it up the steps too well and a month or two passed as we carried her up the stairs on a daily basis. We knew what was inevitable but no one wanted to face or admit what was happening. Everything I had tried was simply a pacifier and got her to August where the heartbreak became an inevitable reality. We had to let her go to release her from the constant pain we knew she was enduring. 

Eight months of stress. I had done the research and knew wholeheartedly that stress was an enormous factor in the onset and the spreading of this dreaded disease but I was so hellbent on my protocol, I didn’t see the failure for what it was. I was still feeling great, walking, riding my bike, eating right and taking my vitamins but slowly the walking became strenuous. Month after month walking worsened and I blamed everything except what the culprit was, STRESS was beating me over the head with a lead pipe, stress was winning the battle.

How do I know that stress was the culprit? As soon as we put our beloved Sassy to sleep, strangely things started to happen to me in great succession. I told you I’d straighten out the timeline in the editing phase of this story, but yeah, the ball started rolling and still to this day has not stopped. It has lost momentum but that’s a good thing, it means I’m gaining balance over the situation again.

Rolling along, I called the oncologists number and the secretary told me that the (prescribed) doctor was only available at the hospital, she could hook me up with (no name) the first oncologist that dumped me, I told her no way and she offered yet another colleague of the first oncologist. The appointment was made and now everything snowballed. 

The first appointment went as expected. My husband and I sat listening as we were told that chemo was the only way to go if I wanted any quality of life. I stood firm in my stance with my protocol but admitted stress had won out and I needed help. He almost laughed at my protocol and what I’d been doing for a year and a half, but the first blood test showed, I had done something right. He admitted that I had done a good job in taking care of myself. But now it was his turn if I’d allow.

I asked him about the Oral Chemo I had seen and read about, he said the product was still in trial phases and I asked why I was seeing commercials on TV for stage 4 ER+ PR+? Hmm...he left the room and came back and offered an Oral Chemo real quick as well as monitoring blood tests and a listening ear. He was hearing me for the first time, someone in the medical field was listening and hearing me. He also wanted me to see an orthopedic surgeon to see about the pain in my hip. But first he put me right in touch with Physical Therapy for my lymphedema in my arm and that also led to a Home Health nurse coming to check up on me.

I didn’t get to see the Orthopod (as nurses called them) before my third visit to the ER via ambulance. Once again, I was in pain, called 911, the ambulance came and I was scooted onto the gurney and taken to the hospital. As I was leaving, the Home Health nurse was coming to my door wondering what was going on. I let my husband and son handle her as for the third time, I was being escorted to the emergency room. The Volunteer Emergency Unit now called me by name. I joked on the ride so as not to let worry consume me. They always agreed that laughter was the best medicine.

X-rays once again, this one of my hip. This is the one that told the story of my disease basically eating away at my hip bone and causing them to be brittle. I was told my right leg was the one in most severe trouble and to guard it. I was put on morphine and sent home. My Oncologist and Orthopod both knew of the visit to the ER and reached out to me for a visit with each of them respectively. Both had dire prognosis’, use a walker at all times and look into buying a wheelchair. 

I let my left leg do all the work for my right leg. I was in a lot of pain when I walked so we ordered a wheelchair and it was on its way. Fear had now slithered into the place where stress has dwelled. My life was failing and I needed help that only my great God could give! I think prayer is the only thing to save me now. 

Jonah 2:7 "When my soul fainted within me I remembered the LORD: and my prayer came in unto thee, into thine holy temple."