Today marks the one month anniversary of our diagnosis and admission to UAMS. Some say it seems to have flown by.
We have felt every single second.
I’ve only posted twice before this, but both times I’ve tried not to focus on the leukemia itself. Yes, it is a part of our life right now…it’s the majority of our life right now…but it’s not us. It’s not who we are.
We have been so encouraged by all of the comments, cards, phone calls, texts, etc. And so many have said we have “inspired” them. That’s great – but that’s not what we’re trying to do.
If you have been inspired at all by our story, it’s not to our credit. We haven’t undergone any “super” transformation that makes us impervious to the sadness and stress of cancer. If you have found hope, strength, or inspiration in keeping up with us, then you’ve been touched by Jesus himself. These are his acts. He is what is keeping us sane. We aren’t attempting to be “heroes” or whatever…we just want to get better. We just want to go home.
Please don’t misunderstand this post to mean that I’m in some sort of abnormal, depressed state. It’s just that, some of these details aren’t what we have shared with you before. I want it to be clear that we aren’t just slapping a smile on and saying “Jesus is gonna heal!” – we’re actually battling this out.
Let me draw a picture of exactly what is in my heart and on my mind:
At this moment, I want nothing more than to be able to sleep at home in my own bed next to my husband. I want to be able to touch him without fear of bruising him or giving him something that will cause his fever to spike. I want to be able to rest without feeling the need to watch his chest rise and fall. I want to erase the image in my mind of him having to sleep on his back because he has a port running through his veins…and to forget the realization that, this is what his body would look like without him.
I want him to have the energy to laugh with me, to have his taste back so we can enjoy a homecooked meal together. I want him to feel hungry enough to eat that homecooked meal. I want for him to be able to sit in the sunshine that he hasn’t seen or felt in thirty full days. I want him to be healthy enough to be my protector again. I wish he could feel the satisfaction of mowing our new yard on his own for the first time. We want to be in the middle of First Baptist’s sanctuary, surrounded by our favorite people, worshiping with Noland on stage. We want to be able to go to dinner at Wimpy’s or Skinny J’s just because. We want to jog around our neighborhood – meet our neighbors! We want to lay in the hammock in the backyard. I want to see my Nettleton kids before they go home for the summer…to hug their necks and tell them how much I love them all. I want real eggs for breakfast.
I would be lying if I didn’t tell you that I wish we didn’t have to go through this. I’d also be lying if I told you we haven’t coped with it. We have. This is normal now. At least, for now. We still need blankets of prayer and as much encouragement as you can manage. Our journey is not over. What you have already given is a huge debt, a major gift, that we will never be able to repay. It is the perfect example of God’s grace.
Please continue to remember us. Pray your hearts out and then go live life to the stinkin’ fullest. Don’t you dare take one minute for granted. I want to hear stories of the amazing things you’ve done in our honor; the things you wouldn’t have done until you realized we couldn’t do them.
Do it for us.