We’re in the “grit your teeth and keep going” phase of chemo. I’ve completed 8 out of 12, so I’m 2/3 finished.

My friends are truly with me in this journey. Just look at the shirts they’re wearing in my honor. I found this graphic early on and it definitely shows how the cancer journey feels. Trouble from above and below, yet some bright spots along the way. This poor snail, who has lovingly been named “Dauncy,” is still persevering one inch at a time. Sliming and oozing forward though the way is long. It can be accomplished one bit at a time. Though the way is full of terror, Dauncy only has to deal with one day, one hour at a time. 

This week I’ve been frustrated and feeling trapped in my body. There’s so much I can do, yes, but there’s also so much I can’t. I long to have a body that doesn’t have cancer, that doesn’t have an ostomy (I’m ready to try for the reversal), that doesn’t have zero energy, that doesn’t have any stamina whatsoever, that doesn’t get out of breath walking up steps. 

It’s surprising to me that bodies are not part of the curse we endure. Bodies are a good gift from God that will continue on in heaven. What will a resurrected body, perfectly functioning, be like? All things are temporary—even this earthly tent I wear.

I’m feeling the loss of control. I can’t care for my home like I want. I can’t cook for my family—one of my favorite things to do. I can’t care for my yard. I can’t even sit up some days. But I can ooze forward, one inch at a time.

Thanks, friends, for walking {slowly} with me!