This cancer stuff has started getting real as of last weekend. I'm starting to understand what it means to fight. Up until now it has been rather easy. Really easy. I've felt pretty good. Until last weekend. This was the weekend I lost my hair.

I was having some boredom issues, which were readily handled by friends and pain. My Facebook friends helped me with emotional strength, while the pain of radiation brought me back to the reality of NOW! Oh my. I'm not bored anymore.

The radiation is like a sunburn. I feel like I've spent the day at the beach, unprotected from the sun. I'm exhausted by days end. Luckily the burn is just centered on my chest and back and everything in between. It's hard to swallow because the burn is inside my esophagus. Spicy, hot foods are the worst. The tiny bumps on my chest and back itch like the dickens.

I just started feeling like the chemo was wearing off. I could feel it relax its grip on me. Then it happened, almost all at once I lost my hair. It would just come out with a tug. I already had my hair short so it would fall out and inevitably get caught in my collar or on my burn and poke me with a level of uncomfortable I'm not used to! No matter how many showers I took, the tiny hairs would stick me relentlessly. So out came the razor and with Annie's help, it was gone. My granddaughter thinks it looks great, Annie wants to decorate it for Easter.

And to top it all off, I got bit by a spider on my Achilles' tendon. It's sore and raw and hurts to walk on.

Fighting means making sure those things I need to survive are getting taken care of. Fighting means making sure I eat, even when it hurts. Fighting means I have to be willing to wait on myself, even when I don't feel like it, and eat a diet that is prepared for me for my own good. A box of cookies no longer constitutes "my own good." I'm learning to drink half caff coffee without sugar. Sugar is my enemy. Fighting means asking for help when I don't want to. Fighting means not scratching that itch until it bleeds. It means treating a severe spider bite without medication because you don't want to mess up the chemo treatment. Fighting means no longer can I lament on the couch and bitch about daytime tv. Fighting is overcoming the desire to be the victim. Fighting is getting active in my recovery, getting responsible and getting on with it. cocktail party selections in coral

But do you know what I appreciate? I love that burn. I'm proud of my bumps. My weakness is a blessing.
I'm glad my throat is sore. I'm grateful I've lost my hair. For these are my blessings. I honor and accept each one. Each with its own difficulty, each with its own benefit. Without these I would not be getting better. Without these I could not be getting better. I'm getting better.

I've wondered why pain and hardship would exist in God's world. My hardship is a blessing, bringing me out of sickness as he promised. I'm fighting for His will to be done. Maybe your hardship is bringing you to something greater than you currently are experiencing. Are you worth fighting for? I think you are.