There has been so much happening that I've had a difficult time sorting through it all. Most days I feel like I am barely keeping my head above water.
Keith has been handling the radiation treatments very well. I think he is handling them better than me sometimes. His hair started falling out in HUGE clumps on my birthday. So, I took him outside and buzzed about 85% of his hair off before we left for that morning's radiation. Bless him. He apologized for his hair falling out on my birthday. I hadn't even thought about that connection. I told him it was okay. It wasn't like he planned it. No more than he planned to have a seizure, quit breathing, go unconscious, scare me and the kids, spend 3 nights in the hospital, have three brain tumors, and need radiation. Whew! I needed to get that off my chest.
I keep repeating to myself that I'm okay or I'm going to be okay. Eventually, I hope I will believe it. On one level, I know that I am okay. I know that God is there seeing me through every single step of the way. That is the only level where I am certain that I am okay. All other levels are questionable. I am so tired: physically, mentally, emotionally, and probably spiritually. I haven't had any down time...at all. Being so tired that it falls into the category of weary is a hard place to be. I am weary. I am weary of standing by and watching as my husband and son fight cancer. I am weary of not being able to fix this. I am weary, because Keith has been sick for 5 1/2 years. I am weary, because cancer has lived in my house for 13 1/2 years.
Then there's the fact that I know my husband is sick enough that he could die from this disease. I don't go there often, but I've been there a lot lately. I guess seeing him turn blue when he couldn't breathe during the seizure made me realize exactly how precarious his life really truly is sometimes. I know that God allowed me to be there when the seizure happened. I wasn't home two hours earlier. I know that God allowed me to catch Keith and keep his head from hitting the concrete floor or the edge of the counter top in the kitchen. I know God kept me in control when Keith wasn't breathing. I know God kept my kids from panicking when I needed them the most. I know God helped me to remember the first aid I learned 15 years ago and never took the refresher course. I know God has been with us every step of the way.
I don't know why God hasn't healed my husband and my son of the very disease that has robbed us of so much. I just don't know. I don't expect answers, because there aren't any. Only God holds the answers to my questions. He will answer them in His time, not mine.
I also know that I am incredibly tired. Instead of continuing this post that has ended up being full of my whining, I am going to put my kids to bed and then put myself to bed.
We've had a weekend full of family. My brother, his wife, and their son drove in from Arkansas yesterday for Mother's Day. We'll all get together one last time in the morning for an early breakfast. Then they'll head home, and Keith, the kids, and I will head to church.
Keith starts back on chemo on Monday. He has three more radiation treatments. I'm trying to be okay.