one day closer

tomorrow we start chemotherapy. 10am. its been a crazy week so far. we moved. love our new place. its unbelievable. truly. it feels like home. like no where else i have ever lived. we watch boats sail down the river from our bed.

yesterday was a big appointment. we found out a few things. good news: my bone marrow is clear. bad news: the spots in my hip and rib are "atypical" and therefore put me at stage 4 lympthoma. because there is bone involvement it is more rare than typical hodgkins lymphoma. but my dr said after consulting with other doctors around the country that the cure rate is still above ninety percent and we are moving forward with ABVD chemotherapy for six months. every other wednesday. and we will assess if radiation is necessary as we go. this was the first appt where i felt sad. i was holding back my tears the entire time, just thinking wait until we get to the car, wait until we get to the car...i was doing ok for the most part until my chemo nurse brought us into the room where they administer the chemotherapy. i was incredibly overwhelmed. rows upon rows of over sized leather chairs with bald people sitting in them getting their chemo. i immediately turned around and said i cant do this and walked out. not like i cant do this (cancer i mean) but like i can not even sort of handle this room right now. it was depressing and real and hard and scary. without a doubt i have such a heart for people who have cancer and have had cancer. you are tough. keep fighting. its all you can do. to wake up and decide that today...today i will fight this, even though i am tired and don't really want to...i will keep fighting. there is nothing fun about this. and this is real. all of it. the appointments, the medications, the doctors, the driving, the leaving ava, the conversations, the fights, the pain, the heartache, the joy, the...this is our life...really this is our life? and the answer is yes and i would not have it any other way.

as justin and i settle into our new normal...its hard. we argue and fight. about stupid stuff and important stuff. we are just trying to process and figure this out. but you cant figure cancer out. it is what it is. so we choose to keep going. to maintain some form of normalcy in the midst of it all. and we cling to what is real. our God is good. even when the pain is too much for us, he is good. and we will win. and tomorrow we are one step closer to winning.

to my dear hope street girls. my heart aches that instead of celebrating with you all tomorrow and this weekend i will be getting my first round of chemo. i love you all.