This post has been sitting and waiting to be published since December 16th because I haven’t been able to find my voice. Plain and simple, I am hurting beyond words. Always move forward, always press on, always smile and never let others see you down has been difficult this time. Deciding to let go and post what I wrote the last time I went to care for my sister is a risk but I am hoping I can start to heal. I am hoping it explains why I haven’t been myself lately…
December 16, 2010
Finding my voice means being able to write and express the goodness of life so that others may come to know Christ. What a tall order for a sinner like me! This week has been particularly hard to write and I am still trying to find the words for this post and debating whether I should write it or not. It’s about cancer and what it does…it hurts terribly and my heart is breaking for my older sister. I am so very sorry she is going through this perilous journey and has been for two years while battling Peripheral T-Cell Lymphoma. There are two brand new grand babies in her world that she insisted on caring for while their moms returned to work so they wouldn’t be in day care as newborns. Then there was the stem cell transplant that she underwent while my mother was diagnosed with cancer. My mother passed away in two short months after diagnosis. The lymphoma is under control; but, now the transplant has caused a type of bone marrow cancer. The drugs that could help her are not made in this country and are not being released to America right now. Alternately, she is taking a treatment drug that causes dizziness, nausea and vomiting to the highest degree. Overcoming double pneumonia and two infections with no immune system is nothing short of miraculous. She just keeps beating the naysayers. Her will to live is incredible and I desperately want her to live. I want my sister back not just for me but for her. We make plans when we are together. We decorate and build houses in our minds. We plan holidays and trips together. We talk about graduations and weddings. Mostly, we talk about Jesus and how much he suffered for and because of us. There are times when the pain is so intense, the vomiting doesn’t stop, her body is more fragile than ever and all I can offer is a cool wash cloth. I crawl up beside her as gentle as I can and just hold her. When she sees tears in my eyes she tells me again, “Jesus suffered more than me.” I want to cry and cry, but I have to be strong because she is so strong.
Sandra, you are the bravest person I know.