I'm not sure if I've ever said anything particularly rude or inconsiderate about pregnant women in the past, in fact I'm going to boldly assert that I haven't. But it may be (I'm really not sure) that in my mind I'd dismissed the idea of morning sickness and nausea as relatively trivial in the grand scheme of things, and for that I am now truly sorry to all women who have or will experience such a thing.
A hospital holiday
I spent last week in hospital (RNSH private) slowly recovering from severe nausea most likely induced by the targeted BRAFTOVI treatment I've been getting for my cancer. If the intestinal perforation I had a few weeks back was the worst pain I've ever experienced in my life, the nausea was the worst experience of sickness, especially sitting in emergency for several hours waiting for something, anything, to fix the feeling. Awful for Fiona to be with me and have to watch helplessly, too.
Nausea saps everything and puts a sick grey-green olive complexion on life, an overlay of not-quite-pain and disgusting negativity. Strength and concentration disappear, any happy thought of the future is underscored by an irrational notion that even the very best and brightest hope is somehow going to fail and be tainted by who knows what? This awful sick feeling that colours even sunlight with a sense that it will fade into darkness.
The hospital emergency nurses are hardcore—they have their clear instructions on what they are able to give in the way of drug treatment, and quite rightly they follow them. So if there is some temporary relief that they are able to provide, and that relief starts to fade, then it will be (say) two hours before any further drug help can be given. In the meantime they will be reasonably sympathetic whilst suggesting that you stop moaning and relax into it, as this will probably last all night and the best way to avoid the worst symptoms is to sleep. Let me tell you that the advice hurts almost as much as the nausea, and the suggestion to maybe not moan quite as much during the worst moments.
Really, nothing at all against emergency nurses but to get admitted into the actual ward is to experience the joy and relief of the oncology team saying 'you can have as much nausea relief as you want, whenever you want it, and if it's not enough, just ask!'
Nausea shoots great holes in the strength to do the most routine things in life and removes the ability to think all but the most basic thoughts. You can lie for hours doing nothing and imagining nothing, planning nothing and hoping vaguely that the situation might improve in a few hours or days. Pregnant women everywhere, I salute your strength.
Today? Feeling OK
By Friday of last week I felt pretty good and had almost started to enjoy my hospital holiday. Although I did lose about four kilos in the course of a week, and that's not great, hey. The oncologist apologised for making me sick with his treatment—hardly his fault really. My dad picked me up (Fiona was not feeling the best) and took me back to his place. In a desperate desire for carbs that were not also hospital food and involved some activity on my part, I made spaghetti carbonara for both of us. Missed a wedding on Saturday. Made it to church on Sunday. Now it's Monday and brain and body seem to be operational enough to make it to a morning Bible study and get on with my editing work at CMS. Let us see.
In the meantime I am deeply aware of the goodness of God in providing medical people who are able to navigate this path alongside me, and the ongoing kindness of family, friends, and church family. Some people phone, some leave comments on my Facebook page, many provide support in ways small and large.
To experience this is to experience a direct epiphany of the grace of God who works all things for the good of those who love him and are called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28). Sometimes—often—I can't respond to these kindnesses shown by so many and in so many ways. If you're someone who has called, prayed, offered help, then please know that your kindness is known and felt deeply even when not responded to in any way that you may be aware of. Such grace reminds me that even in the face of the worst nausea or pain, there is a true solidity and basis to this instruction God gives to all who trust him:
Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, 3 for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. 4 And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (James 1:2-4)
The daily experience of the grace and kindness of friends is just one dimension of the joy that comes to all God cares for.
Oh yes and I'm back today on my targeted BRAFTOVI cancer treatment, at a lower dose and bolstered by lots of anti-nausea options. Let's see what happens!
5 comments:
We hope your nausea has settled down and is much better Gordon! We have been so encouraged by your faith and seeing you at church when you are able to come. Will continue praying for you
Praying
Thanks for sharing your experiences, your reflections and your faith, as difficult as that is. Praying for you.
Blimey- what an ordeal! You sure do write beautifully though for a fella who’s feeling as sick as you do. You have a real gift that is being used even in your valley of Bacca. May you turn that place, like the psalmist did, into an unexpected place of refreshment- or as the BCP puts it ‘who going through the vale of misery use it for a well, and the pools are full of water’
I’m praying that you may go from strength to strength, brother.
Blimey- what an ordeal! You sure do write beautifully though for a fella who’s feeling as sick as you do. You have a real gift that is being used even in your valley of Bacca. May you turn that place, like the psalmist did, into an unexpected place of refreshment- or as the BCP puts it ‘who going through the vale of misery use it for a well, and the pools are full of water’
I’m praying that you may go from strength to strength, brother.
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