10 days | Fatigue | Hope
Happy to report we have two weeks under our belt! In all honesty, we thought day one and beyond would be rough, so we’re both incredibly grateful that Josh has been feeling mostly good. Mid week he did start noticing some increased fatigue, so we’ll take that in stride, we knew it was coming. In his words, “I have a couple good hours in the morning and then I need to crash.” And he does, he normally takes a nap after lunch until it’s time to leave for treatment, but not before helping me with our sweet babes. 😍 The man is a trooper and has continued to help out wherever, whenever he can, despite not always feeling well. Aside from Josh physically feeling ok, the week was a little more of an emotional rollercoaster for all of us. At different points, he referred to me as a fragile bird and a smoldering wick, if that’s any indication. 😂 Maybe it was the fatigue, or all the coronavirus talk, or that 4 more weeks of this seems a little daunting, who knows. Either way, my sweet hubby is always reminding me that God is always good, and he is.
Our first reaction to his fatigue was “we hope this isn’t the beginning of him going downhill”. We quickly reevaluated and had a good discussion about hope. Hope is a funny word, if you think about the meaning, and then think about how many times we flippantly use it every day. We hope for everything, good weather to suit our plans, a better job with more money, weight loss, health and happiness for our kids, fun, travel, good relationships, you name it, the list is endless. And how often are we left sorely disappointed because these hopes don’t come to be? Are these hopes what I’m putting my joy in?
This situation has given us a good opportunity to help evaluate our perspective and what our hope is in. Sometimes we feel incredibly grateful for that, other times it feels like a hard pill to swallow. From the outside, there’s not much about Josh’s situation thats hopeful. People have asked what the goal is for this treatment, everyone wants some sort of assurance that there’s a cure, or some good statistic that will get him to a certain age. But truth be told, there’s just not. No one wants an incurable brain tumor, so what will our joy in the midst of it all really be? Hope, in the hope giver. And every day we’re grateful that he, and only he, gives the grace and strength to steady our hearts and keep our eyes fixed.
We’ve continued to just be blown away and overwhelmed by all the love and support, words will just never be enough to express our very deep gratitude for all those who have come alongside us.
On to week 3! ☀️💙
