Balancing your own physical healing while watching someone you love suffer is a heavy burden to bear. Between dealing with painful flare-ups, looming medical choices, and the exhaustion of church responsibilities, I was pushed to my emotional limit as my dad ended up back in the ER. In the middle of long hospital corridors, unexpected blessings, and moments of deep sorrow, I had to be honest with myself and with God about how tired I really was. These journal entries chronicle what it looks like when life hits hard—navigating caregiver burnout and personal health struggles while searching for peace and purpose through the chaos.
January 27
6:00 woke to itchy arms. I’m exhausted. Whole body stiff and throbbing. Eyes watery. Nose stuffy.
Song: ♫ I will lift my praise ♫
Scripture: Proverbs 27; Matthew 18-19; Ephesians 6:13; Ezekiel 20:43-44
I’m very emotional today. Everything is setting me off. I’m worried about my Dad because he’s acting the same as he was before he got the spinal tap last month. He’s talking about seeing heaven. I feel like he’s not going to last much longer. I’m sure if he knew at all how he was acting and hurting his family he would rather graduate to heaven. I feel for my Mom because she gets the burnt of it all and is exhausted for lack of sleep. I can tell that she’s getting weary in the fight. The long goodbye is hard and is not easy for all those involved.
I’m still dealing with itchy flare ups. This itching has gotten the better of me at times. I’m tired of itching and fighting all the side effects.
Joe sweet to make breakfast for him and I. I tell Joe that I need to talk things out. Everything is weight heavy on me and I’m having trouble making sense of things. I being crying. He thinks it’s cute. I don’t. I was really hoping for clear margins all the way around and then I would’ve definitely refused radiation. I suppose it was a shock and a let down to hear that 5 lymph nodes had isolated tumor cells. I’m still not quite understanding what that means exactly. I don’t technically have cancer, but the isolated tumor cells could lead to cancer recurrence? If they’ve been removed, how do we know if I have more, they didn’t get or that they did get them all? What are the chances of re-occurrence with or without radiation?
I had high expectations that treatment and natural therapies would’ve remedied the cancer. I feel disappointed. Why am I so disappointed? Did I expect the cancer to be cured by now? Yes. We’re my expectations too high? I don’t know. Do I feel the doctor’s let me down? Maybe Do I feel the medicine and homeopathic therapies not work as I hoped? Maybe. Do I feel like God let me down? I would like to think no, but am I being honest with myself? I’m sorrowful because maybe I feel like that a little. I’m ashamed. I know I’ve asked God for healing, but I’ve also asked for His will to be done. Is this how Jesus felt at Gethsemane? My heart is broken. The verse about God comforting us in our tribulations so that we can comfort others in need comes to mind. I won’t know how to comfort others if I’ve not been in their shoes. Is God wanting me to pursue counseling to help others? I don’t know. I’m in such turmoil over everything I know I’m not in a good place to make life-changing decisions. I need to heal physically, emotionally, and mentally before proceeding.
I’m beginning to think that I may need to proceed with radiation to sterilize what cancer cells may be left behind. I’m still uncertain and scared. I know in my gut my skin will burn. I do have knowledge of things that can help prevent some of the burning. I cannot handle itchy skin and burning so I need my itchy skin to heal first.
9:36 I received a call from Mom. Dad fell hard in the bathroom last night and banged himself up pretty good. Mom is taking him to the ER to get checked out. I let Joe know and stop to pray.
I talk some more with Joe. I feel a little better talking things out. I know God does ever fail me and loves me unconditionally. I know all things work together for His good. I’m upset because unexpected bills are causing me to not be able to pay end of month bills. I ask God to provide. I must trust that He will. Everything going on right now is just overwhelming me significantly. I’m also supposed to be downsizing the house to move into the parsonage in June. Events for church need to be planned for and executed. We need to finish prepping the walls in the kitchen to paint. I need to paint our Master bath here. Funds are severely low. God’s going to have to provide a miracle.
Joe takes me to pick up the fliers I designed for church. It’s the first advertising with our church logo. I’m pretty proud of myself and excited. We then head to Lowe’s to pick out flooring for kitchen parsonage. Lowe’s in TC doesn’t have the flooring I like, but the one on Airport does. Heading there now.
Mom’s been keeping me updated. Mom texted and agreed to take us up on our offer about bringing them lunch. I let Joe know. We were about to go into Lowes, but change plans. Run across street to pick up lunch at grocery store. Take it to freestanding ER to my parents. They will only allow two visitors at a time so we have to take turns. Dr has written orders for Dad to be transported to main hospital downtown. Waiting for a room to come available. After a bit, we offer to go walk the dog. She’s been in the house all day. It helps give me a reprieve. I’m tired.
Dezirae will be home from school soon. Holly offers to cook fried rice for everyone.
Mom calls and asks us to bring Dad’s hearing aids. He forgot them and can’t hear much of anything. He’s getting impatient. I go to their house and gather items they need especially if Dad gets admitted. I ask Holly for some of the rice to take to Dad and Mom. Maybe having his hearing aids will help calm him.
I arrive just in time to see the paramedic park the gurney in front of his room. Dad’s using the restroom. They are getting ready to transport Dad to main hospital. Thankful the paramedic straps dad in so he can’t get up. He thinks he’s driving to the hospital. Not a chance! Mom follows ambulance. I go get Joe and pick him up. We’re going to hospital as well.
It’s a long wait at hospital. They’ll only allow two visitors at a time as well. Holly came to see Dad too. She visits for a little while, but goes home because her boys are home alone. Joe and I stay until I feel like I’m going to pass out. He allows me to sit in room with my parents. I help Mom keep Dad occupied.
The neurologist finally came in to evaluate Dad. He was having a hard time answering her questions or following instructions. His sarcasm was kicking into high gear—it was almost comical at times, but I could tell he was just embarrassed. I reassured him that it was okay and that he needed help to get better. He broke down and cried for a moment, so I gave him a hug. Even though he forgets who I am half the time, he was so glad I was there with him. He could tell Mom was upset and didn’t like seeing her that way, so I assured him she was just tired and carrying a lot, but that she loves him and wants him to get better.
The neurologist came back to watch how he walks. She’s convinced he has the Normal pressure hydrocephalus. To correct it, he would need a shunt installed to drain the fluid off his brain. She must confer with the resident doctor before confirming diagnosis and treatment procedure. More waiting.
Meanwhile, an announcement came through about severe trauma patients arriving in the ER. I’m not sure what happened, but a couple of them were flown in by helicopter, which can’t be good. I said a quick prayer for everyone involved. A little later, I walked to the waiting room to give Joe my phone charger. I noticed a police presence in the hallways, and a woman was upset, demanding things from the nurses. She wasn’t being polite at all. The nurses tried to calm her down, but she was angry and refused to settle. I asked God to help d-escalate the situation. Each time I walked up and down the hallways, I felt like people were staring at me as if I shouldn’t be there. At the same time, I felt like someone special with special privileges because no one bothered me. Even though people were staring, I smiled at them, and they smiled back. I made a point to thank the officers for their service every time I passed them; they thanked me and smiled, which seemed to put a pep in their step. I smiled at everyone I passed and prayed for those God put on my heart.
I saw a whole family sitting together in the hallway chairs, and deep down, I just knew it wasn’t good news. Soon after, an announcement came over the intercom about an honor walk scheduled for 10:30 PM. I asked a nurse what that meant, but she wasn’t able to share any details. When I got back to the room, Mom Googled it for me. It’s a tribute for patients who are about to donate their organs. My heart sank, and I prayed for them right then and there.
Later on, I walked out to the lobby to sit with Joe for a bit and explain what was happening. I offered to let him head home, but he insisted on staying so I could focus on being with Dad. On top of that, he’d been using his time in the waiting room to minister to people. He asked a girl if he could pray with her, and she said no stranger had ever done that for her before. I felt so proud of Joe, but so sad that she’d never known that kind of kindness from a stranger.
Heading back to Dad’s room, the intercom called all the staff to line the halls. The hallway was packed for the honor walk, so I paused out of respect. The nurses smiled at me, and I kept praying. I couldn’t stop thinking about the mix of tragedy and hope—how one family is going through the worst heartbreak imaginable, while others are praying this donation gives their loved one a second chance at life.
I finally tell Joe that I need to go home around 11:30pm. Mom goes to the waiting room so Joe can come pray with Dad before we leave. I’m hungry too. I stay in room with Dad until Mom comes back as to assure that Dad won’t try to escape. Mom thanks me for coming and tells me to go home and get some rest. As I walk back towards the waiting room, I stop at the nurse’s station and thank those sitting there for all they do. They thanked me and smile.
We eat a little once home then I go to bed and crash. It’s been a long day.
January 28
8:00 slept most of night. Woke once to use restroom. Left arm was numb and tingling. Muscles throughout body randomly spasming and twitching.
I’m exhausted. Whole body stiff and throbbing. Head hurts. Arms ache deeply and throbbing. It hurts to move. Thirsty. Left arm itching. Apply wound healing essential oil rub to left arm because I don’t want to get up yet. I hurt all over. Hands throbbing. Trouble holding phone to type in journal.
Scripture: Proverbs 28; John 4:24;
Taking a much needed day for spiritual refreshment with the family. Taking a trip to Bass Pro Shop to window shop. Jordon treated us to Moe’s. Met Jason Smith, meteorologist for Channel 10. Joe kind enough to ask if I could get my picture taken with him. He agreed. Very nice fellow. We even have him a tract.
Went to Lowe’s to look at flooring for church parsonage. Joe able to pull up picture of back splash we did in kitchen. The flooring I was considering won’t match. We all found one we agreed would match. It’s even less expensive than originally anticipated. Thank you, Lord.
Decided to wait until this afternoon to get what we needed for the youth afterglow because I was worn out. Might be a good thing because we received notifications that half our church is sick. Ugh. Might have to cancel the activity anyways.
Jordon got his income tax refund already so he chose to buy Joe a smoker. In doing so, we decided to give our grill to my parents because they needed one. Joe and Jordon wheeled it to there house and we surprised them with it. They were excited. My dad broken down crying. I gave him a hug and told him that this was God saying He still loves you dad. He thanked me. Hugged my mom too. She was tickled.
Arms itching bad again. Excuse myself from my parents house. Wash my arms with warm water and wash cloth. Out of desperation, I spray peroxide on my arms. Surprisingly some of the sores on my left arm started bubbling, but stings. Once the stinging subsided, the itching eased a little.
Misjudged distance between my arm and the oven while cooking dinner. Burnt my left forearm pretty good – it blistered. I applied lavender oil. It’s not helping. I’m being a baby. I tell Joe what happened, and let him know I’m being a baby. He tells me it’s okay. He applies mustard to help.
Arm still burning. Found a manuka band-aid. Asked Joe to help put it on. Applied Mary Kay Extra emollient cream to arms.
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