Bearing burdens

The hospital we’re using for radiation treatments is located in a labyrinth of superhighway lanes, on/off ramps and directional signs. We’ve made many mistakes trying to find a fool-proof route but nailed it today, making good time from Michigan and arriving early for the appointment.

Parking attendants were cheerful, offering to park our car free of charge, a special perk for radiation patients. Inside the front door a warm greeting awaited behind the desk, with our doctor and his resident standing just beyond that. It was as if we were arriving to a happy social occasion.

Treatment #2 went off without a hitch, and so far there’s been no skin damage to the three sites. The nurse gave Nate a quick physical: BP good, pulse good, blood gases good but another five pounds lost in a week, which now totals 44. She suggested we set up a meeting with their nutritionist to design a high calorie eating plan for Nate. Chocolate pudding, here we come.

During a meeting with our doctors, the last part of today’s appointments, they learned of a fall Nate had had yesterday. He’d lost his balance and hit his head hard on a door frame as he landed. To be safe rather than sorry, the doctor recommended a brain scan, completed today if possible. “Just in case there is a small bleed, we need to know. The last thing we want is to add anything to his health burden.”

As the staff worked to set up the scan, Nate and I returned to the radiation waiting room where we met my lawyer-brother Tom and brand new lawyer Rob, for a quick meeting. Tom and Rob had come to remove business pressure from Nate’s mind by learning more about Nate’s legal cases. They are gradually taking them over. My brother and my husband have officed together for nineteen years. “You’re a fixture around there,” Tom said, “and everybody really misses you.”

Although I pretended to read two new booklets on radiation and nutrition, I enjoyed peeking at these three legal eagles as they put their heads together over accordion folders and pages of notes. Two things happened: 1) a massive burden was transferred from Nate’s shoulders to theirs, and 2) Nate’s pain meds began to wear off, which quickly showed in his pinched expression. At the end of ninety minutes, they closed the books, and we left for the brain scan. Nate’s exhaustion required a wheel chair to get him down the long halls to the imaging center, but in less than an additional hour, the scan was completed. As for results, no news will be good news.

When we arrived home, dinner was waiting. My sister had produced another spaghetti feast! Nate only ate a few bites, but just the thought of spaghetti on his plate for several more nights brought him pleasure. In the freezer, we learned later, were meals to last a long time! Friends had baked and frozen many goodies, lovingly lifting burdens from my shoulders. It had been another day full of blessing and benefit.

Bear one another’s burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2)

Chuckling

This morning arrived with wild wind and spit-like rain. It was still dark as we loaded the van and climbed in with our coffees, headed for Nate’s first radiation treatment. Normally I would have been behind the wheel for the 108 mile trip, but Nelson wanted to share this experience with us and kindly took my place.

As we sped along, Nate riding shotgun and me in back, I observed father and son. They conversed steadily and even chuckled together, a sound that washed over me like a balm. There hasn’t been too much levity at our house recently.

Suddenly Nelson braked and pulled sharply onto the left shoulder. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Look behind us,” he said.

Pulling up close was a police car, bubble gum lights flashing. My heart sank, because I’d just told Nelson they’d raised the speed limit, which proved inaccurate for this section of highway. I wished I’d been driving and could have taken the ticket, despite his record being clean and mine being, uh, dirty.

After scowling and quizzing Nelson about his speed, the officer went to his car, eventually returning with license and ticket. “You have a total disregard for everything,” he said. “You’ve got to slow down. I’m giving you a warning.” And he was gone.

As we merged back onto the expressway, we were all chuckling about Nelson’s supposed “disregard” for not just traffic rules but for absolutely “everything”. And laughter turned to amazement when we talked about the gift of a warning instead of the penalty of a ticket. All of us saw it as one more touch of kindness from the Lord. “Whatever is good… comes down to us from God our Father.” (James 1:17a)

We arrived on time for radiation treatment #1, which was a breeze for Nate. No claustrophobic tube to slide into and no pain in the treatment process. Friendly techs announced, “Now we’re going to Grant Park,” as pictures of Chicago’s beautiful lake front came into view during his “zapping”.

He returned to the lobby saying, “So far, so good.”

Tomorrow we repeat the process. Maybe then he’ll get to “go” to Millennium Park or the Chicago River as the radiation does its work. In the next few days, doctors said, his skin will redden at the three radiation sites and then feel sunburned, possibly blistering after that. “But with our magic creams,” they assured us, “we’ll make it easy.” We trust them and hope they’re telling the full truth.

Driving home while eating Subway sandwiches, we watched for speed limit signs. Nate was tired but talkative, and as we rounded the bottom of the lake headed for home, all three of us agreed it had been a very good day.

“I will turn their mourning into joy, and will comfort them, and make them rejoice from their sorrow.” (Jeremiah 31:13)

Still at work

When we arrived in the hospital conference room to receive the shocking news about Nate’s pancreatic cancer last Tuesday, Nate was dressed in a new grey business suit and the red tie I’d given him two weeks before. (Who knew Wal-Mart had such great looking ties?)

He’d spent the morning fighting for a client in court and had won the case. I thought he looked especially handsome as he stepped into the room. Standing up each time a new doctor entered to introduce himself, Nate reached out for seven hand shakes and gave seven greetings. He was in lawyer-mode and was definitely the catalyst in the room.

After three hours had passed and all the miserable facts were swirling in our brains, the head doctor said, “You’ve had a terrible afternoon, and I think that’s enough for today. We’ll meet again tomorrow and talk more then.”

Nate took out a Post-it note to write down the time and place, while I dabbed at my eyes with his handkerchief, already soaking wet. The meeting had officially ended, but the doctor had one more thing to say.

“All of us on your medical team had gone over your test records before today. Anticipating meeting you, I expected you would be… well… not in such good condition. Everything I saw in the data said that…. well… Actually, I just can’t believe you were at work today… and even in court.”

Nate, only half listening, took it as a compliment. I took it as a portend of difficult days coming quickly. We have traveled through six of those days so far, and I was right. Nate’s pain is escalating. His suits are in the closet. And the lawyer is not at work.

But God is at work, and he is working on our behalf. As we climbed into the car today, there, folded and tucked into the back of the driver’s seat, was a wad of bills. One hundred dollars. Someone knew of our many 180 mile round trips into Chicago from Michigan, and thoughtfully provided a couple of tanks of gas. God’s touch is in the details of our lives, and we feel him very close.

“There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear. God is love, and the one who abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him.” (1 John 4:18, 16)