The First Test

Well I bet you want to know all about my first week of chemotherapy.. But guess what? You are asking the wrong person for the details. I am basically just as lost as you are! The past 4-5 days have been quite the blur.. I will do my best to recount the experience.

First of all, I am still on drugs. So I apologize if you can't understand the majority of this blog entry. 

Anyway! I had surgery on Monday!! It was actually a "port-a-cath" that was put in, not a picc line. I was a little impatient waiting for the surgery because I had a date that night, that I didn't want to miss. It all worked out just fine, luckily. Phew! I just happened to underestimate the intense amount of pain that I would be in during the date with Courtney. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that you should get some rest following surgery... or maybe it does? Oh well, I didn't put two and two together on that one. I was really glad I went on the date though. It was a great "last hoo-rah" before my mysterious battle with chemo began. 

Tuesday rolled around! It was similar to Christmas morning, but kind of the opposite. Lots of excitement and nerves... just for the wrong reasons. Hopefully that doesn't ruin Christmas for anyone!  We grabbed everything we thought we would need, and off we went to the hospital! We checked in, I changed into my fancy little gown, and I layed in bed at 9am. Things didn't really get rolling for a while. They had to analyze my urine. You know how hard it is to pee on demand? Well its even harder to do it two times in a row. They messed up with my first sample, and came back ten minutes later needing another sample.. I mean come on, give a guy a break?! 

Eventually a nurse came in to draw some of my precious blood. She made the mistake of trying to draw it from my arm... OH NO! That was not gonna happen. Why in the world did I get this port surgically placed, if they weren't even gonna use it?! I made sure to point that out to her. I thought I had won that battle, until a man came in with a different kind of needle to "access" my port. You just can't ever win when it comes to nurses and needles.

Later that night the chemo drugs were finally prepped. A few friends were about to see something for a first (and hopefully a last) time. A friend getting chemotherapy before their eyes!! I was intrigued by the whole situation, because it was all new to me. I was quickly brought down to the reality of things as the nurse approached me in a hazmat suit (ok, maybe a slight exaggeration). Wait a minute... shouldn't I have been wearing one of those protective suits..? One last thing that I remember. The jolly old nurse Gene, told me that I needed to flush my urine twice because it was considered "toxic waste". As I drifted to sleep that night, I remember thinking I may wake up as some sort of superhero (due to the radioactive waste talk)... But alas the mask wearing days haven't come (yet).

Well pretty much every other day in the hospital is a giant blur! I don't remember a whole lot of anything else. A few faces here, and a few jokes there. But for the most part I spent my time in the hospital staring at the back of my eyelids. I do appreciate everyone that came to see me (even if I was unconscious at the time). The thoughts, prayers, and visits have made a world of difference.

Coming home wasn't all that I had expected. I can't remember a whole lot of my time since I have been home, but I know I have been surrounded by great people. Most of the time I can be found sleeping around the house. That is my favorite way to pass time lately. It also helps with the "skin crawling" syndrome I seem to have developed. I can't sit still for very long. Its hard to focus on one thing. It is like being hungry, but nothing sounding good. I just can't make up my mind... and when I do, it isn't up to par. Oh well. That is just something I will have to deal with I guess.

Today was a good day though. As a backstory, I served in the NYNYS Mission under President and Sister Calderwood. The whole mission was fasting for my family and I today. This really touched my heart. I have had countless others tell me that they were fasting for us at different times, and I really can't even begin to say thank you enough. We ended this Sunday with a little Sacrament meeting in my living room (courtesy of my bishop). Spiritual thoughts were shared, and happiness was felt. It was a good ending to a tumultuous beginning.

One thought stands out to me as I close this weeks blog entry. I hope that none of us will ever ask the question "Why do bad things happen to good people?". I have thought long and hard about this question. It helps to remember that the greatest person to ever live, Jesus Christ, had the worst possible thing happen to Him. I believe that Jesus kept His scars, on His otherwise perfected body, as proof that just because bad things happen to good people, it doesn't mean that God doesn't love them. In fact I would imagine Christ grew closer to His Father in those fatal moments of His life, than any other. When we face those dark moments in our life, we can decide which way we turn to. The choice is really all in our power.

We all have trials but it is my belief that we "can-cer vive" anything that life tries to throw at us. Just remember that life is whatever we make it. I choose to make it good, cancer and all.