Wednesday, May 29, 2013

When All You Can Do

The blood results are definitive, her blood counts had dropped even further and this treatment isn't working.  I knew what was coming.  Remicade.  That was our next step.  We didn't want to go there, but my girl is suffering and not recovering.

It's in that moment, everything is out of your control.  The only thing you have control over is whether or not you are going to chose to give your baby toxins to make her better?!  You know that if you don't, she will only get worse and will face more pain and a life altering surgery.  If you do, the possibility exists, that the medicine you gave consent for, will cause a fatal disease (cancer).

But you give consent.  You see the fear in her eyes, knowing it matches the fear in your own.  The fears are different, she is afraid of IV's every two months and you, well, you are afraid of all you know.  You speak hope, peace, happy words and try to ease the fear you both feel.  Hubs keeps checking in, making sure his girls are okay.  You stuff the emotions down until you can get alone, you don't want her to see you cry.  Heart breaking.  This disease is chronic, incurable and if your head has a hard time wrapping around that, she won't understand it any better than you.  Then she asks you, "how long will I have to take this medicine?"  You drop your head and respond, "without a miracle, you always have to take something."  A new wave of fresh tears rush from her small body as realization sets in on her and there is nothing you can do but hold her.

Soon the nurse reappears with a small bag of medicine, it's time to start the infusion.  Such an innocent small of bag of clear medicine.  It looks no different than saline, but, it is very different.  Hopefully it will bring relief.  It's such a strong drug that they start out slowly, monitoring all vital signs, making sure you don't react badly.  Your mind is swirling, a million things cross your mind in an instant.

There it goes.  That strong, disease altering drug is now running into her body.  All you could do was pray, "Jesus, be a fence."  You pray that God would protect all the good cells from the toxins that were meant only to knock out the damaging ones.  Be a fence Lord, to her immune system, her liver and kidneys, and most of all Lord, please don't let this plant and water another disease, one that is fatal.

You have given up control, not that you ever really had any.  You have placed an unknown future into the hands of a known God.  The doctors are good, but your faith, trust and total dependence is in the Great Physician, the Creator, the only other living thing that loves her more than you.  You cling to the hope that a miracle is in the making for her. {That's faith~the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen}

When all you can do is pray, you pray fiercely, be a fence Jesus, be a fence. . . {until that miracle comes}. . . you do it with every fiber in your body.


Sis Tasha said...

Valerie, thank you for sharing such raw emotion. I hardly know what to say for you have said it all. I cry for you and Makiah because I understand fear and trust even though I can't say I understand what it is to be in your shoes. Truthfully, I can't say I can understand what it is to be in your shoes; there is a line in my emotional/mental world that my I can't seem to cross. The pain over there is unthinkable, unimaginable. But you have brought me right to the line and all I can do is stand here and look at you and cry.
But don't get me wrong. I do not pity you. I can't say I feel sorry for you. I cry because I feel like I should be able to get closer, to feel you more because being on the edge of your pain is painful and I am only on the edge. And you are my sister and I think I am supposed to be there with you.
Years of living and experience in friendship has taught me that sometimes there just isn't anything more to say to comfort some types of pain. Some things just hurt and are scary and they are what they are. Some places are just dark,scary valleys and no matter how many rocks we gather to try to stand on to make feel higher like we are in a different place does change the fact that we are still in a valley. I get that. You are in such a place. However, I've also learned that walking in such a place knowing that you are not alone helps. the Word assures us of this. I know we don't see each cry very often. But know that I am crying with you. And so are your other sisters and brothers and mom friends who understand fear and faith and the whole process of trust in the valley. We might not make it better, but we can help you make it through. The Word says so. I love you, Baby!

MotherT said...

I'm continuing to pray for all of you, but especially for Makiah. Continue hanging on to Hebrews 11:1, and remember that He is the Healer of ALL our disease.

sapphire493 said...

This reminds me of Ladies Conference one year when Priscilla Magruder talking about taking the chemotherapy for her cancer. Until then, I'd never realized what chemotherapy was, but hearing her describe the choice of putting toxins in your body to fight the cancer is such a risky process. I just remember her clinging to the verse in Mark 16:18 'and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them.' I know this verse didn't say, 'and if you inject any deadly thing into your veins for the hope of healing...' but I know how God works. It was evidently the purpose behind the scripture.

I also know, as a mother, what you are going through. It would be easier to endure all of this pain yourself than to sit back helplessly watching your child having to endure this. What I always encourage myself with when praying for others is that I know God loves them more than I do and they are in His hands. Praying for your family!

Ashlie Gorley said...

Okay, so now I'm a tear wiping, snot smearing mess! Thank you for being so transparent. I can't say, as a mother, that I know what you are experiencing. But as a mother, I can't imagine the pain that hurts so deep for your baby girl.
Know, that we are praying for healing for Makiah, and for peace of mind for you and Linton. May the peace of God surround you and your family today! Love you and remember, God's got this!