One Year Later & Fighting

It's been almost a year since my last blog post, and my life has changed more than I could've imagined (and not in the ways I hoped). Largely, I would have to say it's changed for the worst - sad as that may sound. But life, and the surprises it brings, isn't always blissful. Is it?

So, what's been so bad? Why is my first post back soooo depressing? Come on, Paige. Could you be more of a Debbie Downer? Well, its about to get a whole lot worse, so just bear with me. 

September 10, 2014 my mom sat Josh, my sister, and myself down and told us she had been diagnosed with stage IV metastatic melanoma. There was no primary site (suspicious spot on skin), and it had quite literally spread through her entire body. Two days later my mom, sister, and I drove up to Arkansas to tell my brother.

I've been through some hard times in my life, but that week definitely topped the list. That is until three months later, December 11, 2014. I came home from a work trip, and we were supposed to have family dinner, but we couldn't find mom. We called and called, drove her route home from work, and went to her house, when finally we received a call…from the police. They found mom alone in a parking lot and were transporting her to the hospital. They did an MRI, found a brain bleed, and transferred her to Presby Dallas. She had brain surgery the next day at noon to remove the clot and the tumor that caused it. We spent the next week in the ICU and almost a week in rehab. She came home December 23rd - just in time for Christmas.

There was also a week spent at another hospital for dehydration at the end of January.

Today we are at the ER for severe stomach pain. We don't know what the cause is, but I'm sure it's related to the extremely large tumors in her abdomen. Her belly that I have only known to be flat is now swollen as if she has been impregnated by disease. 

The last eleven months have been the most stressful and painful of my life. I have cried more than I knew I could cry. I have spent days on end in a melancholy haze. I have pitied myself. I have embraced rage.

But it's not really about me, is it? It's about her, and it's about Him. 

You see, focusing on me and how terrible I feel isn't doing anybody any good. I spent January through probably mid-April toying with the idea of giving myself over wholly to the depression I was feeling. I was still at the point where I was aware of my pain and the toll it was taking on me, and I had a choice. I could either embrace the pain, let go of the desire I had to feel better, and let myself sink into it, be swallowed whole by grief. I could decide to give up feeling joy, even the joy I felt in the saddest moments, and only feel the hurt. Or, I could fight the pain.

I chose to fight. And when I say fight, I mean fight. It is a battle. I chose everyday, sometimes every hour, sometimes every minute how I am going to handle my emotions. Will I let them control me? I cannot lie, it's a fight I don't always win, because in the moment giving up is easier. But it came to a point where I made the decision to not let the pain and despair I feel run my life. And I'm saying this at 12 am Friday morning, sitting in an emergency room, looking at my frail mother, waiting for the doctor to give us some idea of what is causing my mom's pain and how to stop it. 

So how do I do this? 

I have a lot of conversations with myself (most of them in my head). A stern pep talk if you will. I tell myself to calm down. I tell myself to accept what is happening. I tell myself it is temporary. And I tell myself that while I am not in control of the situation, I am in control of my mind and my body. 

I pray (not as often as I should), and my prayers usually consist of three things. 

First, I declare God's goodness. This may sound wonky and out there, but for me it is necessary. The Holy Sprit spoke to me September 10, 2014 louder than he ever has before, and he said to me, "God is good!" And I have heard this countless times since all of this has started. It is the reminder I need to not turn on God and blame him. He is here to build up, not tear down. In this dark world, he is the light. I may not know why this is my path, but it is, and I trust him. 

After I declare his goodness, I tell him what is wrong, straight up. God is not afraid of me or what I have to say. I am not going to hurt his feelings. I tell him I'm freaking pissed that this is happening. I am angry, and sad, and depressed that my mom is sick. I tell him it's not fair and none of us deserve this. I say, "Why me? Why mom?" I tell him I want things to go back to normal and not have any major problems to deal with. I tell him I want this all to be over, so I can run away to a tropical island and never deal with real life responsibilities ever again. 

Finally, after I've gotten all that off my chest, I ask for peace. I ask for endurance. I ask for faith, encouragement, and renewed feelings of strength and hope. 

Graciously, God has provided all of these things for me. He has provided them through my husband, who is strong and warm, through my family and friends, who love and encourage me on a daily basis, and through the countless people around the world who I know are praying for my mom and my family. 

So, I give myself pep talks, I pray, I rely on friends and family for support. And lastly, I do things that make me feel good. I do things that relax me and bring me happiness. I cuddle with my dogs. I especially love taking Maggie on walks. Exercise is key (although not always enjoyable). I wear oils that promote emotional balance: Joy, Peace&Calming, Valor, and Stress Away. I binge watch trashy TV. I go to lunch with friends. I get massages or mani/pedis about once or twice a month which are two things I love but rarely did before all this started, because I'm cheap. I make a point to surround myself with people and activities that make me happy, because at anytime I may be snapped back to the reality of caregiver life which is rewarding but exhausting. 

My life as of late, while still crazy and stressful, has been much more manageable and pleasant than the months preceding. It is easier to smile, and the pain is more bearable. I love my mom. It is agonizing to see her suffer, but I will be here for her as she has been there for me my entire life. Even in her weakest hour, her strength astounds me. She continues to encourage me daily, guiding me, loving me. She is amazing.  

My first post back may be a downer, but it's honest. I am compelled to be vulnerable - to have you see me at my weakest, so His strength my shine through.

Love always,

Paige