Bauserman Cottage

October 8, 2008

Exodus 17:2-3

“Therefore the people quarreled with Moses and said, ‘Give us water that we may drink.’ And Moses said to them, “Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you test the Lord?”  But the people thirsted there for water, and they grumbled against Moses and said, “Why, now, have you brought us up from Egypt, to kill us and our livestock and our children with thirst?”

Psalm 88:14

“O Lord, why dost Thou reject my soul?

Why dost Thou hide Thy face from me?”

Yesterday I was to begin chemotherapy, in pills taken at bedtime. We were told that this is the only chemotherapy medication that crosses the blood-brain barrier; as such, it is an essential drug to my treatment and the medical oncologist wanted it to begin before the radiation was initiated.  Our prescription for the chemo pills had been rejected since last Friday by our drug insurance and was “under review.”  To make matters worse, my doctor was leaving the country and had done all he could do to get the authorization.  Numerous phone calls from me had gone unanswered, and I was finally informed that they had five days to decide.  My radiation treatment was to start today with or without the drug.  The drug was waiting with our pharmacist and without the approval, we could get it ourselves for ten thousand dollars.  Cutting back on groceries would not cover this. 

It felt like there is no water in the world for me, like the Jews in the desert.  I know where water comes from and it isn’t there, like Medco is bigger than God, and only Medco can provide.  Much prayer was called for from friends. Barb is stalwart in focusing on the Lord instead of Medco.  I am having John Wayne fantasies instead, kicking down the door to a conference room on the west coast where people make decisions about other people’s lives.  Barb’s faithfulness brings me around and fifteen minutes before the pharmacy is to close we get authorization and I walk out with ten thousand dollars in pills for which we paid thirty-five dollars.  But it followed a day of helplessness and bouts of despair and outrage.  Like the Jews and the Psalmist, I forgot again that God is able, and He will provide. He doesn’t even need pills, even though this is often His way of healing. He has infinite ways and means to accomplish His ends, ends, which we cannot know or guess however much we try. The spiritual rollercoaster that fear can brew [I can’t live without water], with the help of wild speculations can produce an instant spiritual insanity in all but the best of us. 

I had been too anxious to eat, waiting like a helpless fool for Medco rather than God. After picking up the pills, I found that I needed to take my chemo on an empty stomach with anti-nausea meds at bedtime.  Still agitated and now very hungry, I decided that a liquid supper would be fine. An ounce of Early Times [more John Wayne music as he takes a snort while they cut the bullet out], was deemed medically acceptable as dinner. So, I entered into the late evening experiment with chemo, feeling very alone in the great room with a bucket, ice tea, a nurse ten yards away in bed, and an old, you guessed it, John Wayne movie.  I turned on the movie after the anti-nausea meds made Martyn Lloyd-Jones sound a lot like John Wayne in my mind, part of me still at war with corporate bad guys, even though good guys had sped our case along.  It was a bad enough movie that it was perfect to turn on whenever I awoke [from midnight to four] to see how I was doing on the chemo. The Duke had a useless left hand like mine due to a bullet near his spine so I felt like we were two old gunslingers limping along toward some kind of peace and healing that had to come from someplace other than what we could do for ourselves or from what any man or woman around us  could do. 

John Wayne got some good help from a sobered up Robert Mitchum.  I found my peace in the living God, realizing the chemo was in my body and was not killing me.  I got my focus and prayer life working during the night, chemical experiment that I was, and I had the best night’s sleep in six days: no nausea, and no side effects that I know of so far.  I had also gotten up at five in the morning on Tuesday to have a quiet time before going with Micah to our one-thousandth orthopedic appointment and I forgot my ten AM meds.  I was a biochemical, emotional, fearful, helpless, despairing, infuriated wreck for most of a beautiful day, and then a peaceful, contented, restful soul in my Father’s arms while taking the first chemotherapy of my life. 

Context is everything here; the world versus the kingdom of God, the old man versus the new man, the present versus the future, and my will versus God’s will.  I was worried about getting to Psalm 88, not really wanting any more lessons, but I understand it better than ever, and my compassion for those who live there has never felt more intense.  But God reigns today in my heart.  I found out today at the start of my radiation treatment that the six days of scheduled brain treatment have been cut to two intense ones.  God willing, after four more days of chemo, a four-week respite from medical care will follow.

Please pray that God will magnify the positive effects of this chemo to the supernatural level.  Thank you all for your love and prayer support.  Everyday brings new surprises and manna.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 8th, 2008 at 8:41 pm and is filed under Joe's Thoughts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.