Let's see. It is June 17th. 10:42PM. My legs hurt, and my arms and hips. The doc says a small percentage of taxol users suffer from bone pain after chemo stops and I got it. Sometimes it lasts a year. Ibupropin actually worked partially this afternoon. I just bear it during the day, but sleep is impossible. Last night I was about to take 3 5mg oxycodones and double checked and sure enough I had laid out 3 15mgs. I wonder what THAT! would have done. I always lay them out and double check.

I started out offering my trial up to the Lord, as a sacrifice applied to others, hoping and trusting for some good use of my suffering..redemptive. Often it would relieve the suffering and make it easier to bear. Then, as only a Catholic would understand , I wondered if it was then less of a sacrifice as it took my mind off my own pain. In a holy moment I told the Lord I wold suffer whatever He wanted me to have, that I would suffer for His kingdom if He thought it could be useful. There are so many ways I have tried to amend only to fail, so I welcomed this chance to atone and help others, for all the times I failed to do so. But now it seems really hard, and I am disappointed at my sorrowful attitude.

I hate that so many people say "wow you REALY look great" You don;'t say that to most people, as if they usually look like crap, or they should look like crap. It does bother me that they have absolutely NO idea what my day is like. I have slipped into self pity. I cannot quite wrap my head around the idea that this is it....it does not get better, only worse, I can hope to limp along staying alive as long as I can. When it comes back it will be harder yet again.

The truth is that in many ways it is easier this time. Nausea is not a problem, I took l-glutamine for the shooting bone pain that was an indescribably awful nerve pain that I had to drug up around the clock for a week to battle while I juggled the nausea drugs. None of that this time. The side effects are much worse, and life threatening, so I have to be constantly vigilant. I am alive from very advanced stage 4 ovarian with a second recurrence, in part because I have some medical background and I am willing to be a total pain in the ass. I do not stop when a doc shrugs the shoulders and says I don't know what that is, and (I really don't believe you are in pain because YOU LOOK SO GOOD!). I keep pushing until I find out. And that is exhausting. My anger that THEY should be doing this makes it all the harder. I could be grateful I have teh ability to hunt down and figure out what assorted aches and pains are.

I have an awesome surgeon, a holy humble man. He says 'I always believe everything you tell me. Thos other docs don;t know how good you look when You are sick. That man taught me what hope it, and how totally powerful it can be.

Last time my prayer was panic: " I better not f--ing die" I am shamefaced remembering that, but I knew it was futile to water it down for the Lord, who already well knew my desperation to live.

This time my faith had certainly grown,,my prayer was more Thy will not mine...if this is what You require, I know You can do anything and I know You know how much I want to work in Your vineyard, seriously, and prepare my family and help them grow close to You. I have a real desire to grow in holiness, to let go resentments and sticking angers. I am still mad at my two female doctors who outrageously missed serious signs of disease for two years. Telling me I was just fat. That must be the outcome of cheating on all those med school tests.

When my mind got so fuzzy I could not pray with words at all, or even thoughts some days. I discovered I could only do a few things with my energy level, so I became aware of DOING things. Like emptying the dishwasher..not in a hurry. I realized I did not recall the last time I did something in the moment, NOT in a hurry to finish an unpleasant task. So I would just empty the dishwasher slowly, while I just BE-ed there.

God blew down an awesome holy priest into my life who helps me. He told me to continue to be and do things slowly but to consciously invite the Lord into the moment. This all started in May when I invited the Blessed Mother to visit me in my home and accompany me during my entire day. So I talked to her ...Lots of dishes, Ma. Glad you are here. It doesn;t matter what I do if you are here with me, in fact it feels better taking my time with you so I can pay attention to your company as I work....

My kids are mad at me. I can feel it. I suspect it is because they see I am feeling worse after the dynamite chemo ended and they are worried, and like me, sick of it all. There is a lot of tension in the house.

Off to bed. You are not alone out there. There are people you don't even know who pray for you. There is a furnace of love somewhere, remembering you at this very moment. We are all invited into that furnace. Cancer is like this, a furnace of love, where everything that is not love burns away, and it hurts real good, makes me feel real hope, and security. I want to see this pot..I am a racu pot, with bits of gleaming metallic starting to show through, the cracks taking on meaning and adding to the beauty, new amazing colors surprising and delighting revealing themselves. How have You made me Lord? I have to sit still and not try to escape the place I find myself in. His first whispered words to me were a gentle 'sshhhhhh....'