Popular? Not Me.

I was not a popular mother today.

I insisted that Ellie and Rachel accompany me to my chemo treatment this afternoon. Neither one of the girls was very happy with me. Rachel had been to the clinic one other time when I went to get my neulasta injection. I was hopeful that they would be able to meet Jerry, even though I did not have an appointment with him. Jerry is gone all week on vacation, so that didn't work out.

It is important to me that my daughters are aware of at least some of the day to day aspects of my cancer treatment. If they never see the clinic, or the "infusion" room, I fear their imaginations may be worse than the reality. Perhaps, in their minds, the imaginations were safer. But I wanted them to know that the reality is o.k., too. That the weekly treatments are not awful physically. That the people who care for me there are nice, gentle, and concerned. I don't want my daughters overcome with fear when they think of breast cancer. That is why I had Rachel and Ellie feel my tumor/lump before surgery. That is why I have shown them my scars. Ellie asked me a few weeks ago if my breast will always be so flat. "Don't know...just have to wait and see!" I want my journey to be an open and transparent one for them.

I had Ellie come in with me to the lab and to the"vitals" area today. She got to see the one-inch needle put into the port. She was able to see the "model" port, and have a visual of what is inside my chest. She knew what it felt like under my skin, but now she knows what it actually looks like. She knows what really happens when my blood is drawn out of the port. She knows that I walk back to the waiting room with tubes hanging out of my sweater. She knows that there is a lot of waiting involved!

Don and the girls and I then headed upstairs to the infusion room. It was a ZOO! Lots of cranky little kids there with their parent or grandparent. Weird. More patients than normal. No normal patients (as in the regulars...) There were only three nurses working instead of the usual five, so it was crazy. Luckily, I got my treatment started fairly quickly.

My nurse described Jerry to the girls as "kind of a nutty professor. Very very smart. Looks like Jerry Garcia, or Osama Bin Laden". Great descriptions! Made us laugh. Ellie and Rachel stayed just until the i.v. fluids were started, then we let them leave to go home.

At one point, while we were waiting, Ellie asked me if there has been cancer in my family. "No, not before me". "Did your Mom have any cancer?" "No." "Could I get breast cancer because you have it?" "Yes, it can be inherited, but you'll have early and regular check-ups when you become a grown woman." "I don't want cancer...."

I wonder to myself, again, what God's purpose is in my babies having to confront cancer at 13, at 18, at 22. How can there be good out of this? They're too young. They're too sweet. They're too precious. Oh, how I want to protect their hearts. But I cannot. And that makes me sad. And, some days, that makes me mad.

The fact that I question the purpose does not negate that there is a purpose. I do believe. Actually, I KNOW there is a purpose.

And I generally know what it is.

That, through this, God will be glorified. But I want the details....I want that scroll that says "Drenda, by going through this, your family will be __________. " And I want the blanks all filled in with good things. Great things.

A dear friend sent me a verse from Jeremiah today. It is sweet. "Call to Me, and I will answer you, and I will tell you great and mighty things which you do not know." Jeremiah 33:3

I continue calling. I am trying to listen. I am waiting for the great and mighty things which I do not know.