I had my last chemo treatment last Wednesday. I dreaded it. I cried and cried the night before. I broke down again that morning, in the few minutes I found myself alone. Then I prayed that I would get in a wreck on the way to the hospital. Anything to avoid that last treatment. It has been horrible. Agonizingly horrible.
It was just 8 weeks. How hard can that be?
It is hard to explain why it was so horrible. The nausea wasn't any harder than morning sickness. But there was pain. Weird pain. My body did not feel right. My organs didn't feel right.
My body became weak.
Mentally and emotionally, I became weak.
I was broken.
My will was broken. Like a wild horse being tamed. The spark in my eye went out. Something in me died, and I'm not the same person I was before.
I am beginning to see the pieces of the puzzle coming together. I've quoted this verse before. It came to me last June, and I knew it was a significant verse for me in this season, but I didn't understand. It has come to mind again and again. It gives me great hope.
"Most assuredly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain. He who loves his life will lose it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life." ~John 12:24-25