These Are The Dark Days

Jim has been receiving chemotherapy through the reservoir that was implanted in his head roughly twice a week. Each time they administer chemo, they first draw off some spinal fluid and send it to the lab for analysis to see if there are still any abnormal cells. At the next treatment date, we find out if the last sample was positive or negative for leukemia cells.

Last Thursday, Jim received chemo and had a very rough time with the side effects. He spent the entire morning at the doctor’s office as they gave him anti-nausea medication through his PICC line in an effort to help get the vomiting under control. They considered admitting Jim to the hospital again if they couldn’t get the vomiting to stop. Thankfully, the medicine eventually worked, and he was able to avoid hospitalization. Today was the next scheduled treatment and in an effort to head off these symptoms and make Jim more comfortable, they ran IV fluids to hydrate Jim and also gave him anti-nausea medication prior to administering the chemo. After an entire morning of preparing him, they administered the chemo and almost immediately, Jim experienced severe vomiting that totally wiped him out. While I sat with him, we both cried at how difficult this is. There is nothing more difficult than what he is going though and seeing him so weak and sick. These are the dark days. They have warned us that the chemotherapy given at the time of the bone marrow transplant will be rough, so we are not sure what is in store, but I can tell you that we have never experienced anything more difficult on this journey than what we are going through right now.

I shared with my sister how I ride this roller coaster of emotions. Sometimes, I am so confident that all will turn out well, and other times, I end up in a heap of tears fearing what the future may hold. She compared it to when Peter walked on the water. At first, he trusted God and was fine walking on the water, and then he saw the waves and became afraid and began to sink. Our lives right now are filled with waves crashing all around us – the life or death kind of crashing waves. I have learned over the last few days to identify those feeling as the crashing waves that they are and then pray that God would help me navigate through the storm. And, God is so gracious to continue to be patient with me even when He has shown His mighty hand again and again in our situation. He gives the grace we need when we need it to handle any situation we find ourselves in.

Jim already has this concept down. As I watch him live through what must be the worst days of his life, I see repeatedly what a strong spiritual man he is. I was sharing my frustration with him about leukemia. I was saying that I wanted to have the spinal fluid come back clear so we would feel like we were winning the battle and not the leukemia winning. In his soft, weak voice, he calmly told me that it is not whether we are winning or the leukemia is winning, but rather if God’s purpose in all of this is being fulfilled. After a day of being sicker than I’ve ever seen him, he comes to the dinner table to lead our family in prayer and thanks God for the chemotherapy that has made him so very sick. He is an amazingly strong man, and I am so thankful to be married to him.

We have been praying specifically that the spinal fluid would come back clear and that God would have mercy on Jim as he undergoes these chemotherapy treatments. Today, the doctor told Jim that last Thursday’s lab results showed only one abnormal cell and, according to the doctor, it looked like it was dying. Jim shared that news with me while his eyes were closed and he was lying down recovering from being so sick. It was such good news to us, that we both wept – the ugly cry – but the crying out in thankfulness to God for His continued faithfulness to us.

Jim has a number of other tests scheduled this week that have to be completed before he can return to Ann Arbor. Once the doctors are convinced the spinal fluid is clear, we will get a call from the University of Michigan to find out when we can return. More good news: I talked with the nurse coordinator from U of M today and she confirmed that they were granted permission to use the same protocol for Jim as the clinical trial that just ended. We are looking forward to the next steps toward the stem cell transplant.

Here’s how you can pray:

* Thank God for His goodness and faithfulness to us and for his everlasting love.
* Please pray for strength for Jim. He is very weak and has tests every day except on the Thanksgiving holiday.
* Pray that he would be protected from any germs or illness and that his appetite would continue to be good.
* Pray that the way would be smooth for us to go to transplant. Pray that the central nervous system would be completely cleared of leukemia and that there wouldn’t be any “hidden” leukemia cells.
* Pray for complete healing of this disease.
* Pray that God would continue to show His hand in a mighty way and receive all the glory.

Thank you for continuing to uplift us before our Lord who is able to do more than we can ask or imagine. Our God is good and He is the faithful One.