Letter Ten

Dear Vera - 


Hello dearest, 
This is a happy letter! We got some good news on my birthday! We got another LU shot (bleh) and had a lovely heart to heart with Dr. dV and she was a gem as always. So a few new things are different in the treatment plan. We're up from 0.05 to 0.1 on V-elle, which will help with all the hot flashes. Although, we have to wait and see how my body deals with the increase of the dosage, we (being Dr. dV and I) are very optimistic. Another update: I have been cleared to start exercising again! As long as I don't 'go crazy' and start doing weights and my previously 'normal' 5 miles a day routine, I should be absolutely fine! 

I've experienced God's hand at work so many times as I walk this path, it's hard to keep count, yet I remember each one with vibrancy. Let me just say that my God is a God of compassion, and He knows exactly what we have need of before we know what we want.
He's the one that holds, molds, and scolds. I've been through a lot with all of this, but one thing that has remained: He's still faithful. Happy 10 months!!

Letter Nine

Dear Vera,


Where to begin? I guess from the start... or wherever we left of would be OK. So much has happened since the last time I wrote to you. Let's start with the serious stuff so we can move on to the exciting things that are happening. First of all, about two weeks ago, I had a relapse. It was not a pleasant time for me; I was an emotional  wreak. We had a hard time getting my LU shot, so I was several weeks late getting my treatment. I was slowly getting worse as each day slipped by without treatment. I went to work, went home rested for awhile and headed out the door to church. During church, it all started. My pain went from manageable to unbearable in about one hour. So we did what we do best: we prayed, and then we called Dr dV. She was on call and said, 'Let's party; get to MBMC.' So that's what we did. K & T were with me that Wednesday night, but had to leave town the next morning to take our Junior Bible Quizzers to the NCBQE. 


Unfortunately, I was back at MBMC that Friday night, without the people that knew how to hold me and my world together. The time had come for me to stand without the support of the nearest and dearest. I had to learn to let new people into the inner circle, and share details of my life that were, and still are, very personal. I soon found out that I had to emerge from the shell that I had created during the first several months of this journey. It was time to redefine me and re-examine my world. I opened up for the first time in a very long time and let those people become support posts of my world. Those people might not know how they fit in, or what exactly it means to be in my world; but they are apart of all of this. They too, are a part of the support group. 

My world has changed so much in the past few months. My world is no longer a play by play of the awful moments that were consumed with hospital stays. It's now all about looking at the bigger picture and fighting this battle, one day at a time. The battle in which there is no victory, only moments in which I can make a stand and pray that someone makes that stand with me. It wasn't always easy to stand with a smile, pushing past the pain. Smiling doesn't always mean you are happy. Sometimes, smiling is necessary to convince yourself and the rest of the world that you are strong. The times that my eyes didn't cry and my did smile, were the times when my heart cried the loudest. My world is a place where it's OK for me to be weak; because I have people holding me up, believing that I am strong. I'm strong, because I know what it's like to be weak. Slightly scarred, with a strength that runs deep, I am slowly emerging from the quiet dark pools of unshed tears and moments of extreme pain. From every wound there is a scar, and each scar tells a story. A story that says, 'I survived.' I am me. And I will be am OK. 

Heaven Looks A Little Brighter

What a heavy day this is. The sisters and I went to church, as per our custom on Sundays. God moved in such a special way. How do I know this? Because I had a migraine from all the tears I had shed. "The Mc" came over for lunch and we all spent the evening together. I went to my room, took a few pain killers and rested. I got up for a glass of water, when Sisters #3 came into my room with her phone on speaker. Sister #2 quickly followed. I was still groggy from the mix of pain killers and sleep, but I knew something had happened.

Something terrible had just happened; for the facial expressions that walked in, told me so. The heaviness was palpable, as my father's voice began to fill the silence of my darkened room. These words will forever be apart of me, 'Kanj, I'm sorry to wake you up, but I thought you should know that GM passed away today from kidney failure.'

And with that sentence, my heart was ripped out of my chest; the breath knocked out of my body. A torrent of tears fell, as I tried to sort out what Dad has just told me. He said she was gone and that MM and 'Q'M were now facing a journey through the darkest of valleys. I couldn't even hug them, or tell them that I loved them; so I cried for them. My heart broke for them. For the little six year old girl that now has to grow up without her mom, for the man that stood taller when she was in the room, who smiled bigger and brighter when he spoke about her. What could I do BUT cry? She was a daughter, sister, wife, mother, prayer warrior, and one of my closest friends while I was over there. She was beautiful; inside and out. And now, I'm told she's gone.

Sister #3 and I stood in the middle of my room and let the grief wash down our faces. Sister #2, ever so supportive and sympathetic, knew that we were close, and yet still she couldn't grasp the depth of our loss. She held us, as we held each other, questioning the sudden departure of a 'sister'. Sister #1 called from Florida and said, 'Kanj, I'm so sorry for your loss. I know she meant a lot to you.' She was part of my family. We went everywhere together and did everything together. She laughed at me and I laughed at her, most of all, we laughed together.

I wear a khanga for her today. My eyes have been flooded and rivers surge down my face, as I remember every single detail about her. Today, MM told Dad that he and 'Q'M were now alone and my heart broke all over again. I cried at work, as I remember MM telling me as we drove away, 'Don't forget us.' Well I've kept that promise. She's gone, but never, ever forgotten. This old world became a little darker, and heaven, heaven became a little brighter upon her arrival.

GM - Save a spot for me. I'm on my way, perhaps I'll be a little delayed, but as MM says so eloquently, 'I'm coming'.