Week 3 for Treatment

Dear family and friends,

Sorry for the radio silence. Truth is, until recently, there wasn’t much to report. After a rough first week, Amy’s nausea subsided, making the second week something of a cakewalk—the kind of week we thought the first week would be.

But as we round out the third week, calm waters have turned choppy, and I suspect rougher seas lay ahead. Perhaps the wasted energy of this past Tuesday was an omen: we trekked all the way up to Los Angeles, a 70 mile round trip for us, only to find out that the radiation machine was broken, and Amy’s appointment had been canceled, and that no one had called to tell us. We actually took this much better than I make it sound, but still, it was a bummer. We had been looking forward to the idea that by Friday, Amy would be at the halfway point of her chemo/radiation ordeal. Now, that day won’t come until Monday.

Then, Wednesday came, and with it came a cold, hard truth.

Amy is losing her hair.

At first, it was just a few strands a day. Now, we’re talking clumps. The chemo is killing the roots; brushing hair is like pulling weeds. You can’t see scalp yet, but Amy’s hair, that beautiful head of hair, is thinning by the day, and it’s only a matter of days before her tactical, artful combing begins to fail her. Her prediction is that by Monday, she will be bald.

Now, what does this REALLY mean?

You could say it means nothing. After all, it’s hair, so it’ll all grow back. It might take awhile, but hey: small price to pay in the long run. Right?

Or you can say it means everything. We had been praying that this wouldn’t happen. And because God has answered so many of our other prayers, we had every reason to believe he would grant this one, too. But because he hasn’t, perhaps we have reason to worry that God has turned against us, or worse, that God was never there to begin with, and all those “answers to prayer” were just projections on our part. Right?

Or you can say this: God is good, and grants our prayers for the same reason he doesn’t grant our prayers: The dude has a plan, and he wants us to trust him, for better or worse, hair or no hair. But this truth doesn’t make the emotional truth of the experience any less valid. This sucks. It’s an insult to injury, and it burns. It’s just not fair. Of course, any number of theological doctrines would tell us that this IS fair—but screw theological doctrines! Besides, even Jesus wept when his life got hard. And who am I to disagree with his example? Trust. Cry. And trust again. That’s what Jesus would do. And that’s what we’re trying to do, too.

Last week, we were blessed with a week-long visit from my Mom, and at the moment, we are being blessed by a visit from Amy’s Dad. We continue to be loved by our church family with their meals, prayers, and support. Taken together, we’ve been showered with as many miracles as strands of hair falling from Amy’s head, if not more so.

Still sucks, though.

Love to all,

Jeff and Amy