Walking in Her Shoes

My wife is part of a wonderful organization called Jamberry.  They produce, and she sells, really cool nail wraps.  If you haven’t heard of Jamberry or nail wraps, head over to her website and check them out:  https://laurajane.jamberry.com/us/en/.  Every year, Jamberry has a conference where all the consultants and Jamberry home office staff get together and do whatever it is that they do.  There are speakers, informational updates, and all sorts of things, but I think it is mostly a giant slumber party.  (Just kidding, well, maybe a bit.)  Laura always comes back fired up and ready to sell more Jamberry and equipped to be a better team member and team leader. 

While she is away “conferencing,” I get to be Mom and Dad to our three wonderful boys.  We have all heard the old saying “Don’t judge me until you’ve walked a mile in my shoes,” right?  Well, I’ve walked a week in Laura’s shoes.  I’ve learned some things that I hope will make me be a better husband to my dear wife.  Here they are, in no particular order:

•  There is never enough time.  I don’t care what day it is, or what is planned, there is never enough time to get everything done that needs to be done.  I found myself juggling so many things at once that I’m really surprised that nothing got dropped, at least, nothing that I’m aware of yet.  There was one day in particular that I got so busy that an errand completely slipped my mind.  I was drifting off to sleep when I sat straight up in bed and exclaimed “PHARMACY, I forgot the pharmacy!”     

•  Someone always needs something.  I honestly thought that once these kids got to be school aged, they would be pretty self-sufficient.  NOPE, not even a little bit.  It was the week of a million and one questions.  Where are my shoes?  What’s for supper?  What are we doing tomorrow?  Why are you running around in circles?   What’s it like on the moon?  Do I have to do my homework now?  Where are my jeans?  Don’t get me started on laundry.  Good Grief!    

• There is no downtime.  Even when the kids are asleep, you’re still on duty.  I’ve checked on the boys more times during the night in this week than I probably have in the last 6 months.    I can’t count the number of times that I would get up and just stand outside their room to make sure they were okay—knowing that they would be, I just had to check.  Even when they were at school, in the care of their teachers, I would constantly be thinking “Are the boys ok?  Did they remember their lunch?”

•  Much of the day revolves around meals.  I had no idea.  Really, I had no idea.  Meal planning, grocery shopping, cooking, and cleaning up.  And then, you have to do it the next day.  These kids expect to eat every day!  My goodness.  Have to make sure they get their breakfast before school (it is the most important meal of the day), make sure they pack their lunch (and take it with them), and then have something planned for supper that they will all like (HA!) or at least tolerate (more likely).   So much of my day was taken up just making sure that everyone had something to eat and that we had what we needed for the next day’s meals—or at least I knew what needed to be picked up at the grocery store or what needed to be taken out of the freezer to thaw. 

• There is a need for me time.  It was Thursday morning.  I had dropped the kids off at school and went to work.  I shut the door to my office and sat down and reveled in the quiet.  Just me and my thoughts.  It was nice, for about 5 minutes, and then my phone started ringing.  Those few minutes helped me center my thoughts and did help me through the rest of the week. 

These are just a few of the things I learned this week walking in my wife’s shoes.  There’s more, but I think these are the highlights.  I plan on applying these lessons learned to my relationship with my wife, to hopefully be a better husband and partner to her.

Laura’s on her way home now.  I’ll be picking her up at the airport after a bit.  I can’t wait to see her beautiful face again.  She is the glue that holds our family together.  She makes all this look easy.  And to think, sometimes, she does all this in high heels!

Memories. . .

For the last several days, there have been memories popping up on my Facebook from a year ago. Most of the time, my Facebook memories make me smile as I remember something funny that my boys did or said; sometimes, the memory is about my wonderful wife and I just smile softly, reminded why I love her so.

But recently, the memories haven’t all been quite so pleasant. A year ago, I started chemo treatments. To be perfectly honest, on June 1, when I read the post about starting chemo, I felt sick to my stomach.

I can remember that day like it was last week and not last year. I can still picture the room in the Medical Center where my PICC line was inserted. The doctor was talking to two nurses while they did the procedure. They were talking about the weekend—it was bright and early Monday morning, and they were reliving the fun of the weekend. I believe the doctor was talking about a wedding he had attended on Saturday and how he had rather of gone golfing.

I can remember walking to the car, looking at my right arm, wondering about the little tube that was running up my vein.

I can remember the look on the lady’s face as we checked in for my doctor’s appointment. I can remember the exact moment she read the spot on my record that indicated I’d be starting chemo. Just for a minute, her eyes flicked up to my face and then back to the computer screen. That lady and I came to know each other pretty well.

I can remember my wife holding my hand and allowing me to grip her hand desperately as we walked down the hall towards Oncology.

I can remember being shown back to the treatment room. I remember carrying the bag with my blanket, snacks and bottled water. I remember the chemo nurses talking me through everything they were going to do. I can remember their kindness and compassion. I can remember the first time I looked at my arm and could watch the veins turn darker as the chemo was moving through my veins.

Two weeks ago, I had my 6 month scans and blood work. The technician inserted a catheter in my arm to draw blood and for the CT technologist to insert the contrast dye. As the technician finished drawing blood, she flushed the line with saline. The taste came flooding into my mouth and I remember the daily flushing of my PICC line. The smell and taste of the saline as Laura flushed the line to keep infection at bay will never leave me.

I don’t really need Facebook Memories to remind me of a year ago. Those days and weeks will never leave me. But those memories remind me of this: I am a survivor. God allowed me to survive cancer and to survive the treatments. Today is National Cancer Survivor Day.  If you see a survivor with a faraway look in their eyes, they may just be reliving some memories that may grow a bit dimmer as the months and years pass, but will never completely leave them. If you know a survivor, give them a hug and congratulate them on being a survivor.

The Only Thing We Have to Fear is. . .

I was recently talking to one of my coworkers.  This particular lady and I have known each other for almost 15 years.  We worked together side by side for many of those years, sharing an office space.  We have a whole lot in common.  Besides being coworkers, we are both Christians, we both live in the same town, and love talking about our families.  Now, we have something else in common.  We’re both cancer survivors. 

The topic of our conversation wasn’t cancer or chemotherapy, or any of those things.  It was something that only another survivor can understand:  fear.   The fear of waking up in the morning with an unusual pain, or of feeling differently today than you did yesterday and thinking "is that cancer?" 

We’re both on regular checkups, which require blood work and scans.  The period of time between have the test performed and getting the results can be quite nerve wracking.  There’s a term for it—scanxiety.  She had recently had her regular check up and gotten the results back, thankfully, they were all normal.  But the fear of being told once again that cancer has been working away in your body is real. 

Someone once told me “You just have to get passed it.”  To a point they were right; in fact, I gave that exact same advice to my friend as we were talking.  But I understand that it is a process.  I’ve been going through the process myself. 

Fear can hold you back from living your life completely again.  Survivors may find themselves thinking “I can’t start that new job I’d really love, I might get sick again.”  Or, “I can’t buy that house, what if I have to go through the medical bills again?”  Cancer isn’t cheap.   My personal irrational fear “I can’t put my family through that again, I can’t make my wife go through that again.” 

You may be thinking, you’ve beat cancer; you should be on top of the world.  That’s true, but the truth is also that I had cancer and didn’t even know it.  It could come back.  It could start it’s work again. 

Fear can inhibit you in many ways.  Fear can tie your hands and put a gag in your mouth.  There are some ways to fight fear though.  

That’s the important part.  Fear comes from the unknown.  One of my boys used to be scared of the dark.  I asked him one night why he was afraid of the dark.  His answer was very revealing.  His answer was that he didn’t know what was out there.   To fight the fear of my cancer returning, I have committed to being educated.  I’ve learned a lot about my particular type of cancer.  Now, I am committed to keeping all of my doctor’s appointments, getting my blood work and my scans as scheduled.  I’m going to know the status of my health. 

Fear also comes from a lack of faith.  Remember the Bible passage that tells us how the disciples were on the boat in the middle of the sea, in the middle of the night, in the middle of a storm?  Jesus appeared on the water walking towards them.  It was Peter who said Lord, if it be you, let me come to thee.  Jesus told Peter to come on.  Peter got out of the boat and started to walk to Jesus on top of the water, and about middle way there, he began to feel fear.  And what happened?  Peter began to sink.  He thought he was going to die.  What did Jesus do?  Reached out and saved him.  The Lord asked Peter, thou of little faith, why did you fear?  Fear and faith cannot live together.  To combat fear, we must keep our faith strong. 

Caregivers have fear.  I imagine my lovely wife must have had many conversations in her head about whether or not she was taking good enough care of me.  If she was getting me to eat enough, if I was warm enough.  One night I got the chills so bad, I almost bounced myself out of the bed (not an exaggeration).  Laura told me later, she was so scared; all she could do was hold me and keep me covered up trying to get me warm. 

Families have fear.  I can’t even begin to tell you how much it broke my heart when one of my boys asked me if I was going to ever get better.  I can’t tell you how it broke my heart when one of my boys asked my wife if I was going to die.  They had to deal with the fear that I might not beat my cancer. 

You may be going through something right now that makes you afraid.  You don’t have to be afraid.  You can overcome your fear by educating yourself and keeping your faith strong.  Don’t let fear hold you back.  Don’t let fear keep you prisoner.  Break free from the bonds of your fear and just do it.  We remember that it was Peter that began to sink; but what about those other eleven guys that stayed in the boat?  I bet that later on they had wished they got out of the boat and walked on the water too!  Don't miss your chance to do something great because of fear!