Footprints in the Sand

Me, jumping on the shores of Coronado Island,
December, 2022

I’m not particularly fond of beaches. First, there is sand, which in my mind, is like the glitter of the natural world. It ends up in all these places you don’t want it to be. Your hair. Your eyes. Your bathing suit. Your mouth. Second, there’s sun, which also means it’s typically hot. I am not a fan of climates north of 75°.  (Thus, Alaska in December.) And I burn easily. Third, I don’t find swimming to be a particularly pleasant life experience. Any body of water larger than my bathtub has zero appeal, and even that is questionable these days because, hi, seizures and water do not mix. Fourth, beaches tend to be very people-y. Fifth, I just think the beach is boring most of the time. What am I supposed to do all day if I don't swim and I don't want to look like a lobster? All that to say, the beach is not going to be my top pick for vacation most of the time.

With one notable exception: the beaches of San Diego. Particularly Mission Beach and Coronado Island areas. These places are very sentimental for me, so I have no problems enjoying the sand, soaking up the sun, and tolerating the heat. Although, I’m still not going to get in the water. 

A precious friend of mine and her husband moved out to that area a couple years ago, and I went out to visit them in December 2022. For the sake of this post, we'll call my friend Brave One. While visiting, Brave One and I went out to Coronado Island one day, just strolling along the beach and taking in views of the famed hotel, which is gorgeous and full of history. We were there just prior to Christmas, so the place was decked out in Christmas trees everywhere you looked. When everything went sideways for me back in February, I texted Brave One and told her that someday she and I are going to walk the beaches of Coronado Island again. She is going through her own hurricane of a season, so we’ve occasionally been texting one another, checking in to see how the other is doing. We are both in survival mode.

As I was reflecting on recent life circumstances for both of us, I was reminded of the poem "Footprints in the Sand." You probably heard it, but if you haven’t, there's a copy of it here.

I texted Brave One here in the last several weeks, telling her that I'm still praying that God would let me make it back to Coronado Island and that both of us would walk those beaches again - together. 

And then I thought of the poem.

So, to my dear, Brave One. By faith I’m believing we will both walk those shores again, shoulder to shoulder. We will feel the sand in our toes, We will feel the sun on our face. We will smell the salty sea breeze. We will take more jumping photos. And we will lift our gaze and see, even if in our imaginations only, a single set of footprints in the sand, and we will be reminded of all the moments we were carried by God through the current chaos of our lives. That poem will not be mere words on a page or a cute little poem - it will be our lived experience.

And in that moment, by faith I believe we will bend our knees to worship the God who carried us through the storm, leaving behind his footprints in the sand as evidence.

Hold onto hope, my dear Brave One. The night won’t last forever. 

There's a sunrise waiting for us on Coronado Island.

PS: Look at me making plans, vague though they may be! 

 

______________________

Functional updates

I'll try to carve out space in each post to provide updates on where I am in the process. So, if you're just here for the nuts and bolts, in the future you can slide straight here to the bottom and skip my idle wanderings above.

You know you reach a new point in your healthcare when even the thought of something happening makes you take action. I was standing in the kitchen the other day at the counter, and I got a little flushed, my foot got a little tight, which tends to be a sign of a seizure coming on, so I just thought Forget this nonsense. I don't need another head injury. I’ll be proactive and just go ahead and lay on the floor. So I did. Thankfully, there was a padded rubber mat in front of the sink so I just laid on that. Nothing ever came of it and there wasn’t a seizure, but I can never be sure these days. 

I had another seizure this past Sunday, which was more mild than others, but it seems I’ve had more troubles rebounding with my motor control and strength with this one. So, that’s the third seizure in two weeks. It just leaves me and my parents all on edge because we never know when my brain is going to hit the "detonate" button and the bomb goes off. I get very nervous about going out in public now because I’m never sure if a seizure is going to rear its ugly head and make an appearance. I obviously am still going to all my appointments and rehab, so I’m not a total recluse, but it does make life tricky, never knowing when the bomb is going to go off.

June 10 is the magical start date for chemo, and June 11 is the start date for radiation. Chemo will run seven days a week for six weeks, for total of 42 doses. Radiation will run five days a week for six weeks for a total of 30 doses, which means I will end somewhere around the middle of July. Then I will have a 30 day break, and will then start 12 months of chemo. And that’s just if everything goes OK. (When is life ever linear?) They will monitor my bloodwork on a regular basis and take regular MRIs to see how things are progressing. We won’t know how my body will respond until we get into the thick of it - I may have very limited side effects, or I may have a lot. Time will tell.

I will likely buzz my hair again because I will have a pure bald spot from radiation where my hair will fall out entirely. Eventually, it will grow back in, but I’ll keep it buzzed in the meantime just so that eventually it will grow back in uniform.

Every day continues to be a dogfight. It seems I rarely physically feel good as my brain continues to heal. I still have vision problems off and on and, of course, my left arm is still getting a one-star Yelp review. My left leg is mainly weak and has some coordination issues. I originally thought I would stop rehab once radiation started, but the radiation oncologist actually encouraged me to continue at least therapy while I was actively in treatment. Of course, all depends again on how I'm physically feeling, so I'll have to wing it as I go. 

But keep making plans, y'all!