I’ve completed 6 of the 12 chemo rounds—the bare minimum my oncologist wants me to complete. We’re going for 12, but are open to the possibility of stopping early if a serious enough reason arises.

How do I feel at halfway? Honestly, exhausted. I’m so fatigued that I calculate my steps to really make it worth my while to move. Is it worth picking up that lego and walking the 10 steps to put it away? No, I’ll leave it there. Going upstairs? What can I take with me so I don’t have to come down for a while? And, by the way, you don’t want to get behind me on the stairs. I take it verrry slowly when I’m really wiped out. I sit and rest or lay and rest to catch my breath often.

The side effects seem to linger, and I feel the cumulative effects. Though the ick/poisoned feeling isn’t as present, it still feels like chemo is leaching out of every cell of my body. It almost feels like a fever with clammy chills all over for about 48-72 hours after my last dose. My hands and face are aging as I see spots and wrinkles appear or darken. I think they will fade with time, but I’m noticing it. My hair seems to be holding out pretty well. I am losing a little more than usual, but it’s still thick.

The palliative care I’m receiving is truly amazing. I’m getting such an education in how to care for my body that it’s overwhelming. There are so many pills, supplements, food additives, dietary recommendations, movement suggestions and comfort strategies that it’s all I can do to learn one new thing each round of chemo. 

I’ve spent several decades of my life caring for my soul and focusing on the spiritual aspect of me that I’m truly a beginner at learning to care physically for myself. In the past few years I’ve grown in understanding that the body and soul are both important and intertwined. Care for both is important. It’s just a lot to remember and do.

I am very happy to be halfway done. The sun shining, sitting outside, seeing my flowers pop up in my yard—camelia, hellebore, daffodil, snow drops, crocuses—are all encouraging me to endure. To keep going. Today I even celebrated with sushi and donuts for lunch.

My life feels a lot like the lockdown in the first spring of covid. Most everything is cancelled, the future is uncertain, germs are guarded against, and I spend so much time in my house. But, the one thing that wasn’t cancelled in 2020 and isn’t cancelled in 2025 is spring. Spring will come. It always does. I see God’s grace in giving us seasons. It reminds us that all of this is temporary, the season will change. Suffering won’t last forever. Maybe it will continue in this life, but not in the next. 

Yet, all of this is predictable, just like God’s faithfulness. We know that the sun will rise, the flowers and leaves will sprout, the constellations will rotate above us, the birds return from the south. And God will be good.

Pray for me that I can faithfully endure this season in order to usher in the next.