Mission: Gentle and Quiet Spirit

I liked the first round of chemo better. I came back from Arizona pretty tired (even with all the resting and reading by the pool. I read 5 books there and on the plane.) so I expected to balance out with the steroid they gave me. When chemo was over, I had to ask if I had gotten it since I was not feeling like I could conquer the world like I did with the first treatment. Everything went really smooth. My port cooperated this time and we in and out in under five hours.

Our flight arrived in Minnesota last night at 11:00. Rick would be too tired to work, Ella would be too tired for school, so we made it a family affair. I had wanted Ella to experience chemo at some point so she knew what was involved. I wanted her to know that I didn't get hurt at chemo and that the doctors, nurses and volunteers take good care of me. She was able to see all that for the first couple of hours and then Papa and Nan came to get her. (If they knew the pretend play that they were about to endure, they might not have said yes. No. They would have said yes. No isn't a world Ella hears very often from them.)

I'm already feeling more nausea than I did last time. And I'm tired. I slept all afternoon and tried my best to keep myself up so I will sleep well tonight. I wanted to get this finished, I know so many of you are praying and want to know what's going on. And some of you have mentioned that I'm not posting quick enough, so I'm working on that!

The real struggle is this hair thing. I am a simple gal. I don't need nice clothes clothes, I don't care about what styles are, I love accessories, but they intimidate me and I don't wear much makeup. That's just me. I can tell by comments I get when I do wear makeup and make an effort to dress up slightly that I look better, but that's not enough motivation for me to do it! I've never thought of myself as pretty, and I've never wished I looked any different (except for junior high and that is a whole 'nother issue!). My daddy told me I was pretty, my Heavenly Father told me I was created in His image. My husband just has to look at me and I know he thinks I'm beautiful. My daughter tells me I'm "the most beautiful mommy in the whole university." And while I know she has the tendency to exaggerate and dramatize things somewhat, okay, A LOT. It warms my mommy heart. So why I am so scared to lose my hair is a little bit of mystery to me, but doesn't make it any easier.  Then God gave me this reminder:

  

That sure put things in perspective. We'll be working on the latter of those verses: gentle and quiet spirit.  I consider this a low point, a time when I am at my weakest. Strangely, that makes me excited. I know that with each handful of hair that falls out, that's less of me.  More of him.  That's when I take a cue from TobyMac and let God steal my show. That's when I am strong. So, go ahead. Take it away!

Now I just need to decide if I'm going to shave it off or let it fall out on its own.  Rick doesn't think he can shave it off.  I get that.  Any volunteers out there?!