Famine to Feast (Someday)

My darling wife, home at last.  

Dear world.  I am home - been here since Wednesday morning.  Thank God for an amazing surgeon (Dr. Ch) who championed my release 2 days prior to her fellow’s wishes.  Being home really is the best medicine.  I’m eating better, resting better, and so happy to be around my happy family.  We thank God for the amazing network of support that has done SO much for us already - meals, house cleaning, financial support, child care.  

Before all this chaos entered my life, I was living in my own bubble of the chaos of 4 little ones at home.  It was good - lonely and fulfilling, depended on the moment.  I went on with my simple life - emptying the dishwasher, teaching our now 6-yr-old how to add, dressing the kiddy bugs for their adventures at Mother’s Day Out and Pre-K, managing disputes, you know - living life as a overworked, overtired mother.  But there was peace. I have (as you have read) an amazing supportive husband, and I knew I was doing my best to follow God’s will and raise little souls to love and fear him.

With this diagnosis and the trauma of surgeries/bowel obstruction and all that entailed, I was thrown into a situation where my main focus of life shifted.  No longer worrying about whether the kids made the beds,  the focus was to survive, to make it moment by moment.  I can honestly say that I have never experienced such pain, nor have I known such an outpouring of grace from God, and prayers from our Lady, and the Saints.  This is what meant the most to me: your prayers truly sustained me in the weakest moments.  I have heard people in the past say how they could feel your prayers.  Now I can say I palpably felt every offering of yours and still do.  

This cancer diagnosis has done something remarkable for me - I’ve been under your attention in a very different way.  So many people from my past and present have come out offering support.  I liked living a life under the radar, so I wasn’t sure how this was going to go.  We needed prayers, so we pleaded to you, and you have responded.  We are humbled - truly humbled and grateful for your support in our lives.  This isn’t how I would have pictured this year going, but as things have played out, I’m flabbergasted by your outpouring of love.  Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.

Every day is better than the previous day.  I am eating better bit by bit.  Yesterday I tried my hand at a PB&J with no adverse reactions.  Today I ate a boiled egg.  You don’t know how awesome normal bowel function is until it’s gone and they stick a plastic tube down your throat.  I am regaining strength slowly, and my mental focus is improving.  David and I are processing and the kids are acting like they always have.  

The road is long, but as each day brings signs of improvement, I don’t lose hope easily.  I’m thankful for some relief for my body as I recover.  One of my favorite things about these past three weeks is the opportunities I’ve had to pray.  I could have twiddled my thumbs in that hospital bed, but I listened to the Rosary, the daily readings, podcasts about the good work that we offer to God (Fr. Mike Schmitz, you rock!).  In some ways it was like a retreat, but better than a retreat because I was suffering - I was able to physically offer up my sufferings to unite me to Christ and to bring you with me as I drew closer to Him.  I prayed for every single one of you - prayers of thanksgiving and prayers for your deeper conversion closer to Christ.  One of the daily readings was about Christ’s temptation in the desert (My sister-in-law and I also watched Fr. Dave’s talk on the Holy Spirit and the desert - highly recommend).  After hearing that reading thousands of times, for the first time I was able to relate to Christ on a very different level - I was fasting, too, like I have never fasted before (and wouldn’t choose to on my own - It’s not so safe to do that to your own body, I would think).  How weak and how tired I was (and still am), how he avoided temptation when he was so weak and tired.  I prayed for the strength to bear the suffering as he did.  Oh Lent - you offer us opportunities.  Let us take you up on them so that we can suffer with Christ and in doing so, gain his strength, his support, his graces.

As I continue this journey, especially when the chemo starts up and I get really uncomfortable again, those prayers for you will continue.  

We cannot stress enough our gratitude for your outpouring of love.  I love each of you so deeply.  Thank you.