off balance

Feeling a little knocked off balance these last few days as both Ali left to go back to Turkey, and then my Soul had his birthday. Oh the emotion that flooded me! My goodness.

It was time for Ali to go.

She came when I was first in hospital over two months ago, when a pain crisis hit me, and my Huz sat by my bed for a week or so as the doctors had whispered conversations with him about how serious this was. 

End of life.

In my dazed, drugged up state I didn't know what he was shouldering, the kinds of conversations the palliative care team was having with him. He tells me of vague late night conversations we had together about this being the end, and how to talk to the boys about what was going on.

Huz gathered my three boys on the bed and told them that Mummy might die.

The awful conversation that no one ever wants to even think about having with a 6, 5 and 2 year old. My Huz gently came to them and navigated that without me. Me in a hospital bed, sleeping and hazy, not understanding the severity of what was happening.

And then the funny side of my hallucinations all drugged up where I sat bolt upright in bed and demanded he use the 'Glen 20'. And another time when I pointed to him and told him that he 'was not in my basket of happiness'. What! 

And so Huz called Ali, and Ali came. The most amazing, selfless gift. My sister flew from the other side of the world with her husband and my three beautiful nieces by her side. All to see me. All to not 'miss me' just in case this was when I would fly away to heaven.

There was one more hospital trip after that. When my red blood count dipped to 40, and from Tennyson they rushed me to the RAH only to be given a battery of tests, blood (of course) and then declared free to leave. All very dramatic. All pretty pointless.

But that first hospital stay was a turning point. I came home to a palliative care team willing to administer heavy drugs at the drop of a hat, and a most unwelcome addition to my bathroom: the shower chair, because standing up for any length of time was pretty impossible.

So Ali came and lifted my heart as she stepped in to help care for us. To join the amazing family who have been caring for my boys and my house and for me all year.

Slowly over the weeks I got stronger. With the change to a new chemo of Xeloda my body had a chance to rest from the relentlessness of the previous one. I'm a bit in love with this new chemo to be honest. 

But now she has flown home. I'm glad it's her flying home to Turkey instead of me being the one to fly home to heaven those few months ago. This time now is a gift. Absolutely.

And the birthday of my baby, my Soul, my sweet chubby cheeked, chatty littlest guy is a reminder of God's goodness and presence in these last three years. 

The best kind of reminder. 

Because then it smacks me in the face that it's three years ago the words 'breast cancer' were spoken over me, and I refused to understand at first. And so the beautiful of Soul and the ugly of this disease are a little bit interwoven over the years, and I am thankful and tired of them being so closely linked, but it's the kind heart of God that I see mostly in how He hasn't written off these years of sickness with nothing but the cancer to see and feel and know and embrace. No. He has given us new life in the midst of it, and this bigger, more awesome story being written despite sickness being ever present, despite me having to contend with drugs and aches and appointments. 

I have Soul.

I have this little guy to love on and laugh over and see good in his beautiful life. I have hope for the awesome story God is writing even now over him. And it puts cancer in it's place, because in the light of the main story line, cancer doesn't even get it's own title if you ask me.

So Soul's birthday is rock bottom emotional and full of deep deep meaning and mystery, and I spent most of it just being with him, playing lego, watching him water paint and sing. And when I put him to sleep I sang all my songs of love over him and prayed again that he would taste and see that the Lord is good.

I love that kid.

I miss my sister.

I'm thanking God for lending me grace in the moments I can't imagine living through just when I need it. His grace in the hard is ever present.

So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. 
2 Corinthias 4.18