When Baby Jesus Grows Up...

Yesterday Jude spent an hour playing with the toy nativity scene and I overheard this threat made, I believe, by a Wise Man:

"When baby Jesus grows up, he's going to be bigger than the worst bad guy; bigger than a skyscraper; BIGGER THAN A FARM! And he's going to kill you down!"

I suppose in this testosterone-laden house I ought not be surprised that Jesus is the biggest, baddest superhero in the land. He's even bigger than a farm, so watch out bad guys.

Well-Being

I am at the oncologist's office getting treatment 9 out of 12. It is good to feel like the number of treatments left is down to "a few." Of course I'm also feeling well today. Last night I had some anticipatory queasiness but this morning has been better.

The lady sitting next to me is talking about the frustration of hairlessness. She has no hair in her nose - a condition I do not have in quite her extreme - and said it makes her nose run faster. I guess nose hair slows down the flow and makes it a little easier to be neat.

In the throes of last week's fatigue and frustration I thought that being in round 9 of chemo might be like the 9th hour of labor. (I write this based purely on observation and anecdote, with no relevant personal experience). It's like going into labor knowing it will last 12 hours and that in the end there will be no baby, no tangible reward for the effort. My important people are here to support me, but they also leave the room periodically to go for a walk or have something to eat. Around now they start to say, "Just a few hours to go! You're going to make it!" It's true, of course, but I still want to be done NOW. I'm tired NOW. I want to go for a walk and get something to eat, too.

I'm reading the December Atlantic almost cover-to-cover today (Sandra Tsing Loh made me laugh out loud AND made me think kindly of Dave Ramsey, who I usually find deeply irritating) and happened on this lovely thought in the letters to the editor: "Well-being is not the absence of disease or disorder; it is living life with purpose and meaning, in a caring community."

Persistent Fatigue

I've heard that chemotherapy can cause people to feel tired in a way that sleep does not remedy. I'm starting to find out what that means. I'm a week and a half past my last treatment, which I have come to expect would mean I feel well, but I'm still tired most of the time. I can muddle through the day but have no energy to spare.

One of the effects of this that disturbs me most is that I don't want to write. Usually I write because things just seem worth writing about and I want to share them but these days that's not happening.

Maybe an occasional photo will subsitute for now.

Round 8 & Ear Infection

I am posting today primarily because this blog is my homepage and I cannot bear to look at that depressing picture of myself anymore. This post will push the photo far enough down the page that I don't have to keep seeing it.

So, Round 8 started yesterday. I'm hooked up to the pump until tomorrow. I feel pretty crummy but Jude distracted me last night with a nasty earache. He was up several times with severe pain in his ear, but this morning he seems fully recovered.

Ben's parents are here this week to help with things while I rest. I am always amused and pleased to have his mom here because it is her great pleasure to do laundry and generally get things in order. My house always looks much better when she heads home.

Cancer is My Delilah

Samson told Delilah, "If my head were shaved, my strength would leave me, and I would become as weak as any other man.” (Judges 16:17)

The Cute & The Melancholy

The Cute

And now, the obligatory Halloween-costume photos:

Pirates and superheroes love to dance.

Beware! Ye dare not cross the dread pirate Jude.

Aargh! Me glass eye itches!

Pastor Ben dressed as a regular guy with candy and temporary tattoos.

We didn't trick-or-treat door-to-door this year, and no child was the wiser. Our church's preschool hosts an indoor Halloween party that was PERFECT for our gang. About an hour of trick-or-treating at tables in the gym and each table had a simple game for the kids to play. Sam went around two or three times and came home loaded with candy. Jude mostly hung around our table. Owen found a non-parent grown-up buddy and I don't know what he was doing but he sure was happy.

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The Melancholy

I'm feeling pretty low these days. This is my "good" week - no chemo - and I feel run down all the time. Maybe it's a cold virus; maybe it's the cumulative effect of chemo. No telling. I've been resting a lot for a couple of days but my body still feels worn. Oh, I will be so glad when I get to the last round!

Pastor/Dad

Jude attends preschool at our church and today they had chapel with Ben. Here is Jude's report:

J: Today, we had chapel, but Pastor was late because Pastor was watching the birds and forgot. We laughed at Pastor!

Me: Who is Pastor?

J: Dad!

Owen: Who is your dad?

J: My dad is Ben.