Sue received her first chemo infusion today. This is followed by 14 days of 'toxic tablets'!
After looking around the room at other patients, she was heard to comment with a little embarrasment,
"I have too much hair to be here!" A fine head of hair is a sure sign of being a new kid on the chemo block!
Clothed in frailty;
Creeping ill.
Bathed in softness;
heart-strong still.
Pain elicits tend'rest love
Evokes a depth of aching care
and chance to see rare beauty
Not clothes, nor face, nor hair
But well-spring deep within
Exuding grace and peace
Inviting us to share the space,
and cease pursuit,
and dwell
where truest beauty shines its face;
Where lives and spirits interlace
and worldly cares dispel.
Here yield and melt
into God's loving arms.
Geoff Bateman
Today we presented ourselves at Darwin's Alan Walker Cancer Care Centre for an 'Education Visit'. As it turns out it was well named 'cos we learned quite a lot!
The Centre is on the grounds of the Royal Darwin Hospital but presents as a modern, friendly and 'not too clinical' environment. That facade was maintained in reception and other spaces visible from there. We were met by a very pleasant young chemotherapy nurse who lead us deeper within the centre. Once we entered the treatment room, all pretense that this was anything other than a medical treatment facility was gone. It was wall-to-wall nurses, gowns, masks, drips, trays, trolleys, gauze, needles and (not surprisingly) patients. We remarked to each other that things had suddenly got more serious!
We then sat down with two nurses and were 'educated'. It was primarily a description of how the chemotherapy drugs are administered and a run-down of the list of more than 20 possible side-effects of various liklihoods and possible intensities. Helpfully they gave us a sheet with all the information summarized! We were not inclined to believe one nurse who surprisingly said in her best reassurig voice, "But you probably won't have any of these and just sail through it all". Hmmmm.
As a finale, they took about 10 vials of blood (all from Sue, fortunately!) for all manner of tests to confirm that she is free of all unwelcome bacteria, viruses, parasites and other nasties (HEP A, B & C, HIV, TB, strongaloides etc etc). I can now cuddle her with increased confidence!!
So what did we learn?
Three significant things we learned (that you possibly already know!) were:
I accept that some of the 'medical' information above may not be complete, or completely technically accurate. What is abundantly clear though is that as human beings we are God's intricate creation and are 'fearfully and wonderfully made' - Psalm 139:14.
PS: Sue starts the first round of chemotherapy at 8.30am on Tuesday 10 September. So the next chapter begins.........
As lovely as it was to be away, and to spend intentional and special time with our parents and siblings, there is something wonderful and releasing about being home! There is a lot to be said about sleeping in your own bed!
It was both astounding and a little disconcerting to find out that son Mitchell had project-mananged the repainting of the whole of the inside of the house while we are away. Looks fantastic, smells 'painty', and now needs to have all the furniture and 'stuff' re-organised and re-positioned. Lucky we do not have much else to do or think about!!!!
[PS: If you do not understand the reference in the title, find someone who can recite the words of 'To market, To market' for you.]
Pre-dawn tears speak silent fears
Pangs of yet-felt grief and pain
Foreheads press, soft sweet caress
Dispel the creeping loneliness
Release, relief obtain
Intimate bloom, still grey room
Faith, hope and love expressed
Early morning
Early mourning
Alive, together, blessed
Geoff Bateman
It seems that our son Callum has inherited some of the 'forward planning' genes of this grandfather and father.
We had lunch with Callum before we left on our trip 'down south'. Here is a snippet from the conversation that occurred.
Callum: Mum, I've been thinking about what coffin we should get for you.
Sue: Really? What are you thinking would be good?
Callum: I'm thinking about something in the shape of a cow!
Geoff: Why a cow?
Callum: Mum grew up on a dairy farm and likes cows....
While the conversation naturally moved on to other topics soon after, apparently Callum's thinking did not. A couple of days ago he sent a text message with the pictorial results of some internet research. Apparently you CAN be buried in a cow-shaped coffin (or a pineapple, or a beer bottle) - but maybe not in Australia!
You've got to give it to him, he's an ideas man!!
Doing the 'rellie run' (NT slang for going down south to visit your family) this time feels normal. Like we are on holidays. Like we have done many times before. Apart from the need to manage Sue's daily tiredness and some low-level pain and discomfort, we are doing what we have always done - sharing normal daily life with the far-flung members of our family (with the occassional cafe visit or special treat thrown in). Then something catches you off guard. A thought. A word. A question. Here is an example from yesterday.
We were walking the main street of Yarragon with Tessa (having just visited the bakery!) and Sue looked down at her scarf and said "I really need a brooch to keep this together" (or words to that effect - I wasn't paying close attention!). I responding by saying that there was heaps of lovely jewellery in the gallery up ahead so we should go in and buy something. Sue's response was to question whether it was worth spending money on an item that she could do without and may only get to use for a little while........ (momentary pause). Solution? Sue agreed to buy something that she and Tessa both liked so Tessa could have it after Sue dies.
A strange and pragmatic, yet loving and tender, transaction without a visible outpouring of grief or emotion. Visiting family. Going to the bakery. Buying a brooch. All very normal - but not quite.
Today we travelled to Phillip Island and tried our self-invented Freezin' Breeze Therapy. We do not hold out much hope that it froze the cancer or blew it away, but it was uplifting to the soul and very nearly to the body (the wind was that strong!).
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If you haven't discovered the deep yet whimsical world of Michael Leunig, this is a good place to start.
If progress was being reported on a 'nightly news break' it would go something like this.......
[intro music]
Sue and the oncologist met for a second time this week in order to find a way forward in the current crisis. After a period of intense negotiation, an agreement has finally been reached between the parties and chemotherapy will commence on Monday 9 September following Sue's return from a goodwill tour of Victoria and South Australia. Sources close to Sue say that she is satisfied that the outcome of the talks is the best it could be in the circumstances. It is anticipated that a series of blood tests and a 'chemotherapy education session' will take place ahead of the planned 9 September commencement. The oncologist would not be drawn on the question of expected outcome of the planned treatment other than to say "Nothing is certain in the world - we will have to wait and see".
[outro music]
The words of the song Lovers in a Dangerous Time by Bruce Cockburn were obviosuly not written with our journey in mind but nevertheless speaks powerfully into it. Our prayer is that we may all live life, whether short or long, dazzled by beauty and open to the thurst of grace.
Don't the hours grow shorter as the days go by
You never get to stop and open your eyes
One day you're waiting for the sky to fall
The next you're dazzled by the beauty of it all
When you're lovers in a dangerous time
Lovers in a dangerous time
These fragile bodies of touch and taste
This vibrant skin -- this hair like lace
Spirits open to the thrust of grace
Never a breath you can afford to waste
When you're lovers in a dangerous time
Lovers in a dangerous time
When you're lovers in a dangerous time
Sometimes you're made to feel as if your love's a crime --
But nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight --
Got to kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight
When you're lovers in a dangerous time
Lovers in a dangerous time
And we're lovers in a dangerous time
Lovers in a dangerous time
As sun beams warming hope,
exquisite detail, colour bright
the shadows cast lurk ominous,
dark defined by light.
So love wraps close and tender,
intimate with grace;
yet looming grey of future loss
invades, demanding space.
Surround me, sun and shadow
Enfold me, love and loss
Take me to that peace-filled place
that lovely, lonely sacred space
where joy meets grief
to mix and merge
to twirl and dance,
and darkness purge.
Secure in Christ's embrace.
Geoff Bateman
In the many emails in in repsonse to the news of Sue's illness where some honest comments and unassuming statements that 'met us where we are'. Here are a few.....
"God hasn't been taken by surprise, even though we all have, and he'll walk the road with you, every step of the way, don't doubt that for a minute."
"As difficult as this situation is, being on the inside, actually living it, is to some extent easier than for those on the outside looking on feeling powerless and questioning God as to what on earth he's up to, to allow such a thing....... [A]long the way you discover all is not bad. What is important suddenly comes into much sharper focus, and believe it or not there are hidden delights waiting round each corner of this rocky little road that's diverted you off the main highway."
"I know that life as we know it now does not go on forever but to come up so hard against the truth of it's end is something else again isn't it?"
"[We] will be praying for both of you and your family...for grace, peace and God's healing, in whatever form his wisdom, mercy & grace brings."
"Earth has no sorrow heaven cannot heal".
"It is times like this that we seem very lost for words and as I often say to God "I don't know what to pray just that your will be done" and at this time I again find myself praying the same."
"Human Response - CRAP! Spiritual Response - Still Crap! I'm just not that spiritual. Can I help? What can I do? Ahhh crap!"
"We know of the struggles, but know too of the immense blessing of walking hand in hand with our Creator through the 'curveballs' and dodging the pitfalls of despair and hopelessness."
Thanks everyone for your unassuming wisdom and for avoiding platitudes!
Yay, booked flights today to go and see the family down in Victoria (Tessa and Jim) and South Australia (parents, siblings etc). The distance from Darwin to 'down south' has never felt so far as it has these last three weeks. Leaving 21 August and back after a couple of weeks of hugs, talking, laughter and tears (and maybe a few coffee shop, bakery and cafe visits!). Oh, and some games of card?
[BTW, if you don't understand the title to this post, you are probably young enough not to have see Hawaii Five-O!]
Today was the first visit to the oncologist....
The discussion was pretty much as expected:
While not overwhelmed, we wanted time to think, talk and pray so took a whole lot if information away. It is a rather confronting thing to be asked to balance options that may improve quality of life for a period, but could also have side effects that do the exact opposite. It feels a little like 'extreme gambling' and the oncologist is the bookie.
We have another appointment next week.....