Joy

THIS song, You Are My Joy by David Crowder, best describes how I feel today, after recovering somewhat, from having gone through what feels like hell and back in the last few days over my treatment decision. The song sounds best really loud.

This is my decision:
12/31/09
Yesterday morning I woke up, after having hardly slept all night, after spending most of the night talking to God about this treatment decision, with a stomach so knotted up with anxiety that I had diarrhea several times and could hardly eat breakfast. I spent my morning reading about treatment options and could hardly eat lunch. Every treatment I looked at made me want to curl up in a fetal position and just hide somewhere far, far away.

As I read about the treatments and the average progression free time patients experienced from it, I kept thinking that the bottom line is that treatment can only extend life at this point, it is palliative rather than curative.

My understanding is that ovarian cancer is the most malignant gynecologic cancer. My understanding is that I have the most aggressive form of ovarian cancer.

It seems to me that if I recurred six weeks or less after I finished chemo, and if my last treatment didn’t stop the cancer, that with or without treatment my life on this earth is going to be short.

I would rather have a few months of doing the things I love and enjoy with the people I love and enjoy, than a few years of struggling with pain and suffering and treatment symptoms.

Last spring when I was fighting through all of the issues of facing death and dying and the suffering involved, God showed me that He would be with me and have mercy on me. I’m not saying that I think it will be free of pain and suffering, I’m very much aware that it might be a very difficult process.

I’m also very much aware that dying can’t last forever, there is an ending point, there has to be an ending point. At that point, I will leave this earth and be more alive than I have ever been, with a perfectly healed body for all eternity.

When I was praying about my treatment decision this morning, I was reminded of John 14 where Jesus tells his loved ones that he is going to prepare a place for them and that he will come again and take his loved ones to himself. He also says, “Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”

I feel like God is using those words to communicate to me again that I am His and that He will come for me, and that He will come for me soon. I don’t know what that looks like in terms of time, but I know what it means in terms of His promise to minister to me and to take me to Himself when it is His time.

I feel like God gave me, and the people around me, this past year as preparation for this decision.

My decision to stop treatment is the only option I feel peace about.

I feel indescribably blessed to have an extremely competent, very compassionate, very understanding medical team to take care of me through this process. I know that God timed my first appointment last December to put me in their hands. I have a phenomenal amount of respect for each of them as people and as medical practitioners. They are doing a wonderful job.

I feel like I’ve done the things I’ve wanted and needed to do. Although I’ve been wanting to go skydiving and may still do that when the air is warm enough.

I feel like I’ve used the gifts God has given me to the best of my ability.

I feel like I’m at peace with God and the people around me.