When You Can’t Sleep, Pray

It was helpful to me to learn that other people going through cancer treatment had trouble sleeping.  My anti-nausea medication, Ativan, helped me when sleep was elusive, but you might need to ask the doctor for something specifically to help you with this. 

Years ago my sister Marnie (www.marnie.com) mentioned that when she wakes in the night she says “Who do you want me to pray for, God?”  I have had precious times praying through a list of friends as I lay awake in bed.  Sometimes I will feel an intense burden to pray for one friend, and when that burden lifts, I fall right back asleep.  Sweet!  It is comforting to rejoice in the uninterrupted time to pray for whoever God brings to mind.  It takes “I should be sleeping” and turns it into “what an amazing opportunity to be used by God to pray for others.” 

During treatment, as I lay awake praying, I would frequently become aware of physical discomfort that was keeping me awake.  I needed pain killer, or anti-nausea, or other medication that had been prescribed, but I hadn’t taken it when I should.  In that case, I’d get up, take the medicine, lie back down and keep praying until sleep arrived.  If you can’t think of who to pray for, then start thanking God for things.  That’s fun too! 

Good night.

Family Funnies During Cancer, Part 2

My husband and I decided if we were not afraid, our 6 and 10 year old daughters wouldn’t be afraid either.  We were careful to package scary news to make it as easy to hear as possible.  For example, when I told them I’d be having surgery (in one week), I had already arranged a sleepover invitation for each of my girls with a good friend. 

My oldest watched us to see how upset we were about the surgery.  When we seemed okay, she relaxed and prepared to enjoy herself.  When the surgery was postponed, she was nonchalant.

Not so my little one.  The promised sleepover made my surgery an exciting event, and she couldn’t wait.  When surgery was postponed, she was crushed.  We decided to have the sleepover anyway, with the promise of a second sleepover for the actual surgery.  After each chemo (8 treatments over 4 months), my little one kept asking me “How long until surgery?”  I’m proud and grateful we were able to maintain a happy home during my valley of cancer, but I would sometimes wonder if we overdid it.

Family Fun During Cancer

My girls were 6 and 10 when I was diagnosed with cancer.  I typically wore a bandana around the house.  On the few days I went to work, I wore my wig.  It was summer in Florida, and that wig got hot and itchy, especially in the afternoons on the drive home. 

One day when I complained, my girls urged me to take the wig off.  They promised me no one would notice.  Finally, I could resist the temptation no longer.  I didn’t want to cause an accident, so I made sure I performed the “unveiling” at a stop light. 

Unfortunately, I drive a Toyota Solara with a sun roof, and immediately to our right was a jacked up pickup truck with a perfect view of my head through that peep-hole in the roof of the car.  My daughters scanned the neighboring vehicles looking for a reaction – and got more than they bargained for.

“Mom, that guy in the truck next to us, his eyes are bugging right out of his head!” 

We laughed then, and we still laugh now.  So much for no one will notice.

Choosing to Laugh: At the Hospital, part 2

For example, my radiation team wrote on me with permanent marker almost every day. I decided, if I had to have permanent ink on my body, it better be purple. One technician searched, found and gave me my own purple pen, which I took back and forth with me each day. They would laugh when I prevented them from writing on me with “unacceptable” colors like green or orange, and gladly use the purple pen clipped onto my gown. It wasn`t much, but it helped us all focus on smiling. One day a new technician went into full “calm down the hysterical patient” mode in response to my teasing. I quickly apologized, explained I was not upset, but trying to be funny, and invited her to play along with me. The other technicians joined me in calming her down. That experience gave me more sympathy and understanding for their original restraint in joining me in laughter.

When my sister went into the hospital for intestinal surgery, I primed her with this joke: Why was the skeleton afraid to cross the road? Answer: It didn’t have any guts. It was so perfect for her audience that the nurses told it to everyone who came in the procedure room before my sister had a chance! Friends, taking care of us is not always the most joyful job. We need laughter, and it will bless the ones who care for us as well. Join Fran and I, and choose to laugh, especially on your way to the hospital.

Choosing to Laugh: At the Hospital

Fran DiGiacomo was my mentor in laughing at cancer itself with her book “I’d Rather Do Chemo Than Clean Out the Garage: Choosing Laughter Over Tears.”  Her humor was life-giving to me. Unlike me, writing to you from the recovery side of this valley, Fran writes with the prespective of someone who knows she will be in treatment for the rest of her life — which she has chosen to enjoy! Fran developed a questionnaire for her surgery staff, and designed a special T-shirt to wear each time she checks into the hospital for surgery. I pray that you and I will not need to spend that much time in the hospital, but we can learn from her proactive approach.

Based on her inspiration, when I had to go to the hospital for a test or procedure, I would bring a joke to share. I’d first ask “Have you heard any good jokes today?” Although I was sad everyone said no, at least I didn’t have to worry that my joke was too lame, as it had zero competition. One joke from Fran’s book (which is NOT lame) is her definition for anesthesiologist, the doctor who stands behind you and passes gas. Thanks, Fran!

I need to warn you that your care providers may not laugh at your jokes unless you give them explicit permission. In their defense, not a lot of cancer patients are laughing. Too often, when a cancer patient says something melodramtic, they mean it. Remember I warned false anger can be a side effect? I appreciate my gentle care providers who choose not to laugh out of respect for the deep valley through which their patients travel. However, if you share with your caregivers that you are seeking laughter, they will join you, support and encourage you — and, dare I say it, appreciate you! You will be a breath of fresh air in their day, welcomed and enjoyed.

Joy In Cancer Secret Three: Laughter

Cancer isn’t funny.  Cancer is big, it’s bad, and it’s awful; but my God is bigger, He’s better, and He’s awesome.  God is able to give His children joy in the middle of horror.

While you are in the Valley of Cancer, I encourage you to seek laughter.  Seek it, but don’t force it, and don’t fake it.  I don’t mean you should pretend you are having a good time.  Laughing and crying at the same time count.  In that moment, you have a choice.  Which are you going to hang onto?  Sometimes, tears are the right response.  Other times, laughter can be a lifeline.  When you can, grab it, and swing, baby, swing!

When you’re going through chemo, you are dealing with the side effects of the chemo, the medicine to help you deal with the side effects of chemo, and more to help you deal with the side effects of the side-effect management medicine. Honest.  No matter how grateful you are for this abundant display of amazing western pharmaceuticals, at some point looking at your vast array of pills and potions will be a multiple choice test:  laughter, tears or all of the above?  Proverbs 17:22 says that “laughter does the heart good like medicine.”  I’m suggesting you need to not only laugh when it gets ridiculous, but go beyond that to “take” laughter like medicine:  regularly and on purpose.

Chemo Half Way Day

During my valley of cancer, I looked for laughter.  Those silly e-mails I had been too busy to read were exactly what I wanted in my inbox.  I knew which friends to ask, and they came through with an avalanche. I accepted too cute as well as hysterical, and considered a weak, crooked smile (see my picture?) as a laughter success. 

 

In upcoming posts, I’ll share the ways I “took” my laughter medicine, including books, movies and comedians.  I’ll share things we laughed about together as a family, the Bible verses that made me laugh, and how I know God has a sense of humor. 

How do you take your laughter medicine?

Creative Thanks During Cancer

What if tried and true words of thanks are blatantly inappropriate coming from a cancer patient? For example, “that tastes wonderful” doesn’t work when your taste buds are on vacation with your hair.  Dear friend with cancer, break out the Creative Thanks.

My friend’s husband brought a hot, home-cooked meal to our house.  As I walked towards the door to greet him, one smell of the food sent me straight to the bathroom.  When I was able to return several minutes later, I couldn’t even say the words “That smells delicious.” It was time to be creative.  Here’s what I said. “Thank you. As you can see, I’m in no shape to be cooking for my family, and they are hungry.”  Honest thanks, carefully worded.

As I lay in my recliner the next few days, I thanked God it had not been the cook delivering her own cooking.  How painful would it be to have someone throw up at one smell of your gift of food?  I recommend keeping well back when hot food is delivered. 

We need to take care of our volunteers by letting them know how much we appreciate their help.  You may not be able to say thanks immediately.  The nausea can come and go unexpectedly. One time the feelings going on in my body were so distracting it was hard to pay attention to what was happening around me.  In a healthy person, that would be rude. It may take all your effort, but try to express your gratitude, explain your limitations, and then let your precious volunteer decide how to move forward from there.

If you’re feeling bad enough that you need creative thanks, you’re likely to have some time to ponder how your response was received.  If it wasn’t Oscar-worthy the first time out, you’ll have time to think of better responses.  The more hysterical you word your thanks, the better, both for you while you’re lying there and for your friend when you see them next.  They’ll appreciate the effort – as much as you really did appreciate their help. 

Have you had to use creative thanks?