Chemo Day: Circling My Calendar in Pink

Chemo day.

Every week, I have a Chemo Day. It is not because I need Chemo. It is because I don’t.

In the year since I started Chemo day, one day a week on my calendar is circled in pink. Each circle contains information about that Chemo day. Looking back on this year, I am grateful.

When biopsies in the summer of 2023 showed breast cancer, there were many follow-up tests and surgery. After surgery, there was the Onka blood test. The higher the Onko score, the greater the chance of recurrence of breast cancer and the need for chemotherapy. Therefore, one hopes for a low score, especially when chemotherapy might require hospitalization because of steroid allergies. An Onko score of 25 or higher indicates a need for chemotherapy.

I had the Onko test, and then we waited. My Onko test came back with a low score of 10. When we received the news last September, we danced our way out of the oncologist’s office, and I’ve been dancing ever since.

As I rejoiced in God’s blessing, guilt set in. My friend, whose breast cancer surgery was two months earlier than mine, was still undergoing chemotherapy every week.  And I? I was home alone, still dancing in my kitchen, getting ready for our half-dozen and their families to descend on us for Christmas.  My friend underwent blood work weekly, and if her labs were good, chemo. If her lab results were not positive, it prolonged her treatment by another week. How could I be so fortunate?

The Nudge

How different my life would be, I mused one day in early December, had my Onko test been greater than 25. I’d be going somewhere for Chemo. I would also possibly react to steroids my doctor says I must not take, and my oncologist said are required for needed Chemo. As I stood in my kitchen, making my list and checking it twice, getting ready for the holidays, I felt a nudge on my shoulder.

God doesn’t speak to me in audible words, but I often hear Him, nonetheless, when I get that nudge. That day, while cinnamon and spice permeated the house, I knew I wanted to give back to God. At first, I told God I’d start this in January, after the holidays. My second surgery was five weeks behind me, and I thought it was fair to just wait. Plus, I (selfish me) had so much to do to get ready for the holidays!

However, that nudge came again. I knew He wanted me to start now, but I wasn’t ready. I made a deal with Him. I’d ask a neighbor if she could help me with a meal I’d already said “No” to this week, for this day. If she said “No,” I’d wait.

Giving back to God

“If, however,” I told God, “she says yes, I’ll start now.”

I called my neighbor. She said yes. There you have it. I had no choice, because I’d promised God. My Monday turned into a day in the kitchen and I called Dave to tell him about my bargain with God. I needed him to come in earlier from work to help carry and transport food for this event. He came.

Was I tired that night? You betcha, but not as tired as I’d been if I’d spent the day having Chemo. I snuggled down under the covers and realized it felt good to be tired – especially when I recounted why!

Every week, instead of going to the hospital for chemo, I committed to spend part of the day doing something for someone else. If I had to undergo chemo, I’d be gone from home for most of the day anyhow, so why not use that time and money to bless someone else? 

My calendar 

My calendar for the past year shows specific days circled in pink – indicating my Chemo day activity of that week. It helps me keep track of what I do on each Chemo day and encourages me to keep on.

That cold, windy day in December when I felt that nudge, I told God some things about Chemo Day.

• I will offer to help a need, but I will not beg. If You want me to do this, then You make it happen. And oh, has He ever!
• If Chemo day does not happen one week, I will not feel guilty or upset. I am willing to do two Chemo days a week if the week prior does not produce any needs I can meet or if I am out of town for several days.
• I will use Chemo Day to do something I would not be able to do that day if I were having Chemo.

Reaching out instead of looking in

When I am tired in the middle of an activity with someone, I remember I could be leaning over a toilet, throwing up following Chemo. When I dish out extra money to purchase food for an event, I remember that, if Dave were taking off work to take me to Chemo, we’d be shelling out more than I’m spending. As I swipe my card, I thank God I am free from Chemo.

Some evenings I’m exhausted after a busy day helping someone or listening to their story again. I remember I could be languishing on the sofa instead. When I feel impatient with someone because there are so many other things I could be doing, I remember. When I’m frustrated with the conditions of a home in which I sit to ‘spell the loneliness of someone, I remember that I could be in a chemo department with medication flowing into my veins. I would wish I could be anyplace but here. How blessed I am that I can give.

When half of the six loaves of bread I make disappear because I pass it out to lonely people, I smile. When I fix several gallons of soup to serve to a group of young folks, I am grateful I have health and energy to share.

Chemo day keeps me whole

At the end of the week when I circle my Chemo Day in pink, I am grateful. Those pink circles represent the blessing of health, strength, and the opportunity to give. Cancer is a dirty word, but Chemo Day keeps me whole.

Photo credits: pixabay.com