Hi, this is Jenni, Steve’s wife. I have my own family blog and I’ve thought about posting some of my feelings about Steve’s MM there, but it didn’t seem like the place for it. I also thought about starting another blog like Steve’s, a place for my thoughts about the diagnosis and what will come, but I don’t feel like I need a whole blog for that at the moment. So Steve said I could occasionally post here when/if I feel the need.
Be forewarned, I tend to write enough for a book sometimes, but it’s cathartic to get it on paper so kudos to anyone who reads this and makes it through to the end.
The “C” word is a funny animal. When I hear about someone I know who’s been diagnosed with some form of cancer, my first thought is how bad I feel for them; my immediate second thought (in all honesty) is I’m so glad it’s not me, or worse, someone in my immediate family! I have a friend whose husband has battled prostate cancer for the past year and a half or so. He’s doing well now, but is not out of the woods by any means. I have a past co-worker of mine who found he has Stage IV cancer in his colon, liver and lungs. He is in his 40’s with a young wife and 3 little boys about 7 and under. I can’t imagine… My aunt is in her 60’s with young grandchildren. She has but weeks, if not days, to live with a past breast cancer that has now spread to her lungs and brain. I hurt for them, I pray daily for them. And yet it hadn’t touched any closer to us than that, which was close enough for me.
But now it is someone even closer to me than an extended family member or a good friend. It’s my husband, the person closest to me, the main person that I’ve spent 30 years building my life around.
The “C” word has invaded our world. We’ve heard that you can live a long time with MM, but we’re learning that while that can be true, it can just as easily not be true. This is not a cancer that has a normal track record, it’s different for each person. It’s been hard knowing how to tell family and friends about it because in the beginning I told them what I felt was the truth, that it’s not that big of a deal, that “someday” we’ll have to deal with it but it’s very manageable for now. Then we realized that this may or may not be the case, but you don’t want to overreact and tell people it’s worse than it is so you reach a point where you almost don’t want to say much more about it other than, yes, he has MM, we’re doing fine with it at the moment, and that we’re still learning about the diagnosis.
So for now, we do more tests, learn what we can about where Steve is headed and try to find a new “normal.” For now, he’s symptom free and we vacillate between feeling like it’s not real, to feeling the reality of it all as we uncover more information about MM.
I’ve been feeling weirdly detached from emotion about it so far, like it was surreal, something happening to someone else. But this week, I finally had a meltdown that apparently had been building up for awhile, and Steve was the lucky recipient of it all.
I think for me, it was as though too many things had hit at once. Steve (working in the finance/banking industry in this lovely economy we’re in) has been laid off twice in a 2-year period, which obviously has been pretty stressfull all on it’s own! Neither of us had ever been laid off before and to say it’s unnerving is an understatement! The job loss also took our health insurance with it and we purchased a private policy of health insurance just 3 weeks before his MM diagnosis. We’re thankful for the insurance we almost decided against, but we’ve wondered, will it be enough for what’s to come?
Also during this 2-year period, he’s had a couple of episodes of health issues, first meningeal encephalitis about 18 months ago requiring hospitalization (this from someone who has hardly EVER been really sick in our 30 years of marriage), and now the MM diagnosis. Oh, and let’s not forget having to put our dog to sleep the same week as Steve's diagnosis. I think the MM diagnosis was the (very large) straw that broke the camel’s back for me. I had put my emotions and thoughts on the back burner for a few weeks and – kaboom! The dam broke.
As I told my son on a facebook email, I was feeling angry about the MM, the worry over not-so-great insurance possibilities, the job issue, etc., but I wasn’t sure whom I was angry with?
Was I angry with Steve? Some, which made absolutely no sense except that Steve has always been the one to help me “fix things” and neither the job situation nor the MM is something he can just fix.
Was I angry with God? Yes, I was.
Was I angry at myself? Yes, for feeling that way about Steve, God and my lack of stronger faith in the first place.
I’ve been dealing with God-anger issues occasionally for a few months now, watching job rejections come and go with employers never even getting to the interview stage. Steve had been job-hunting for well over a year at this point (most of it while he was on his last job that he knew was going to come to an end). Even with my prayers of faith in God, knowing that He had a plan, I was beginning to feel forgotten. But I stuffed that way down deep, kept praying and kept working on projecting faith. Then comes the MM diagnosis and the other night, during the big kaboom, I told Steve that while I know the Bible tells us we’re NOT forgotten and that HIS plan may not be MY plan, I was tired of hearing that. I was not able to believe that truth at that moment. I was also tired of hearing that we are so blessed, that we could be that co-worker, or my aunt, or…fill in the blank.
Don’t get me wrong, I know all of that is true in my head, but my heart just wasn’t on the same page at that point. It was so hard to know what was truly upsetting me because all of the issues (the MM, the job, the insurance, etc.) seemed like they were all rolled into one, big, messy ball of “stuff.” I just couldn’t sort it out.
My son’s answer on facebook to me was:
“Does God have a plan? Yes, but the bigger truth is one that I have struggled with over the past couple years, but it’s just true, which is that our lives are meant to glorify God regardless of our circumstances. Difficulty and pain are part of the human experience, and they are used to help us identify with Christ, who endured great suffering for the sake of God’s plans. It is okay to have anger with God, as long as at the end of the day we lean on Christ to get us through to the other side. I think for living with the understanding that God does NOT promise good things will happen in our life has helped me deal with my struggles, because all HE really promises us is that if we seek Him, we will find Him, and especially when that’s all we have.”
I’m learning things about myself, not necessarily good things and not necessarily things I wanted to learn. I am impatient. I want it my way. And I really, really don’t like relying on God to reveal a plan to me when I think I have a better plan. And yet, now that I’m more sane again, I know that having me in charge would have the makings of a disaster and I can appreciate that God DOES indeed know what he is doing, even if I don’t understand it.
Today, I’m better for the “kaboom.” And, Steve survived it too. ;) Actually, it opened up some good discussion with us, paved the way for us to draw closer about all the things I’ve had building up in me. And I think God might still love me too, even though. Because the Bible tells me so.
I’m working on appreciating my life again, on giving it back to Him, letting Him call the time frames on Steve’s MM, Steve’s job search, and everything that happens in our lives. I’m learning lessons I didn’t want to learn, but that God has seen fit to teach me.
My son gave his first sermon a few weeks ago and at the end of it, he played “Untitled Hymn,” by Chris Rice, a favorite of mine. But when I heard it that Sunday, it spoke in a stronger way to me. The words are:
Weak and wounded sinner, Lost and left to die,
O, raise your head, for love is passing by,
Come to Jesus, Come to Jesus, Come to Jesus and live!
Now your burden's lifted, And carried far away,
And precious blood has washed away the stain,
So sing to Jesus, Sing to Jesus, Sing to Jesus and live!
And like a newborn baby, don't be afraid to crawl,
And remember when you walk, sometimes we fall...
So fall on Jesus, Fall on Jesus, Fall on Jesus and live!
Sometimes the way is lonely, And steep and filled with pain,
So if your sky is dark and pours the rain,
Then Cry to Jesus, Cry to Jesus, Cry to Jesus and live!
O, and when the love spills over, And music fills the night,
And when you can't contain your joy inside,
Then dance for Jesus, Dance for Jesus, Dance for Jesus and live!
And with your final heartbeat, Kiss the world goodbye,
Then go in peace, and laugh on Glory's side,
And fly to Jesus, Fly to Jesus, Fly to Jesus and live!
I know that without Him, we are weak and wounded, lost, but the victory is in Him. In this world, which will have it’s share of joy and sorrow, strength and pain, we can fall on Him. We’re here to live for Jesus, show His love, and then someday fly to Him as He promises. When it’s our turn.
I know because the Bible tells me it’s so.
And for right now, today, so does my heart.
