It's always the quiet ones

I'll begin by saying that it's a chemo week. Jim started his chemo late in the week - yesterday. He'll get his pump out on Friday. You can always tell how the chemo is going to go when Jim gets home by the pallor of his skin. If his skin looks normal, it's going to be a good week. Relatively speaking. If his skin looks pallid, it's going to be tough. He got him yesterday looking pretty bad. He seemed to feel okay...but just okay. As the night progressed he got worse. He's pretty sick. I can only hope that it's the chemo blasting the heck out of the cancer cells. I hope that he's not sick for nothing.

I absolutely hate it when he's sick. It discourages me. I'm sure it discourages him, too. On a night like last night, sometimes I feel so sad that it's hard to keep going. To keep living our normal lives on top of our cancer lives.
You know what keeps me going on nights like last night? The quiet ones. The friends and supporters that do some truly awesome things for us, big and small. Mark and Terri finished the Relay for Life this past weekend. Their team managed to raise $3245 in Jim's honor. Let's hope the American Cancer Society figures out the cure for cancer soon! Their good friends Chuck and Nicole (and their kids!) walked with them. We've only met Chuck and Nicole once. I know they agreed to do the walk because of their friendship with Mark and Terri. But that's a pretty big time commitment honoring someone they've only spent a few days with in North Carolina.

One of my college friends, Ben, and his wife Sherri, and their two kids also walked at the Relay for Life. Ben and Sherri didn't know if we'd be there or not. I haven't seen Ben in around 10 years. I haven't even met Sherri yet. You know how it is...you keep in touch for several years and then...things start to slide...you get busy, and the next thing you know you're down to exchanging Christmas cards. For Ben and Sherri to do the Relay for us...just meant so much. (As well as Mark and Terri, but we get the privilege of seeing them more often!)

It's also little things that keep us going: Jim's still getting weekly cards from Dave and Doris Carter, Ted and Tonia Dandrow, as well as his Aunt Debbie and Uncle Bill. It's friends who take Rachel for a playdate on a chemo week. It's tough for her to understand why Daddy's so tired. A playdate gets her out of the house and lets her play for real. It's friends who hold Jake for me when I'm feeling out of sorts and struggling to accomplish tasks with him in my arms. Which is pretty often. It's also friends that keep inviting me to things, even though I can't make it 90% of the time.

We have relatives that come to visit and watch the kids for days on end. Who get up with the kids and let me sleep in. Who fix dinners and take the kids to the park. Friends and relatives who give me nutritional support and advice when I'm at a roadblock. Some of you are brave enough to leave messages on our voicemail, which we always appreciate, although we're simply horrid at calling people back. Or send me an email, which I mean to respond to...as soon as I sit down and do something other than work on the blog or paying bills. I have friends that understand when I'm feeling lonely, and they're ready and waiting with wine and chit-chat.

It's the nurses that care for Jim, play with our kids, and welcome us at the Vince.

Although cancer is like a ball and chain for our family, it's not going to be forever. And in the meantime, we have the support of the quiet ones...people who pick up the ball and chain from time to time and carry it for us.