I Am A Grain Of Sand

I am just a grain of sand,
Insignificant, plain, resting in His hand.
Rough and tiny, salty and meek,
My life, a blessing. My faith, never weak.

Life can flow, as sand, through a sieve.
Try to stop time, there is no reprieve.
I too fell through His giant fingers,
Painful landing, my immense faith still lingers

People ask day in and out, the same question,
Why you? Why me? What's the suggestion?
I have the answer. It's simple and right.
God is good - Love and Faith day and night.

I feel so blessed to know that there are amazing people, around me and out there, who are inspired by my journey. I'm just a grain of sand on God's endless shore. I'm just one of the billions of people here. I'm moved to tears..... I'm humbled and completely shaken to my core when I receive messages of encouragement from people I've never met or seen.

The other day, I was once again back, at Shaare Zedek Medical Center. It was Chemo Day - again. Again, something deep inside me said I wasn't going to be able to receive chemotherapy. Barely making it up the three flights of stairs, completely out of breath, we arrived on the 7th floor of the Oncology Day Ward - The Chemo Lounge. My head was exploding with the most excruciating pain I'd ever felt, since 3:00 am and my tears began to flow, uncontrollably.  My nurse gingerly accessed the port in my chest. She drew the vials of blood. I told her that I wasn't sure I'd be able to get treatment today. She expressed support and encouragement and offered me pain meds for my terrible headache. I went to lie down and I felt a little bit broken. A volunteer came to offer me a Reflexology treatment which, was so soothing in my state of, falling-to-pieces.

A while later, we received the news that my white blood counts were lower than ever. My red blood counts joined the party too and my hemoglobin is now sinking. One of the oncologists noticed that I was writhing in pain while waiting in the corridor. She brought me a red pill, one used against migraines. We discussed options with my oncologist. Concerns. Possible treatments. Blood transfusion? Head CT? More Neupogen shots. It was a very long day.

I received a phone call from my friend, P. She told me about a woman, a friend, who reads my blog. Her name is, Miriam, and she felt inspired, by my writing, to write a song. Some of the words are sad and most of them are touching and uplifting. The song is called, Faith. Knowing that Miriam was inspired to write this song of faith has really touched my heart and soul.

Where Does Faith Come From?

Where does faith come from?
Are we born with it or can it be created, learned, acquired along life's journey?
Last week, at this time, news began to spread in the Holyland of Israel. Three teenaged boys were waiting for a ride from their school to home. Three boys, Eyal Yifrah, Gilad Shaar, and Naftali Frankel, were brutally abducted by Hamas terrorists. It's been an entire week for their 3 mothers and their 3 fathers, of waiting. Praying. A week of sleepless nights for their brothers and sisters. A week that the entire Nation has prayed, cried, and begged G-d Above for their safe return.

Gilad (16), Naftali (16), Eyal (19)

Please G-d bring Eyal Yifrah, Gilad Shaar, and Naftali Frankel home safely to their parents! It's been a whole week that thousands of IDF soldiers have spent searching from house to house, arresting known Hamas terrorists, seeking to rescue 3 children, teenaged boys who, the week before last, were rough-housing with their friends, playing basketball and soccer, singing and playing the guitar.... being boys.

This week, the Nation watched their 3 mothers, as they made their first public appearance and their first public statements to the press. This is what we saw: 

The 3 mothers embrace

Strength. Composure. Love. Faith. Three mothers faced the cameras and spoke words of complete faith.  One of the kidnapped boys, is 16 year old, Naftali Frankel. His mother, Racheli Frankel,  spent most of her opportunity speaking to the press expressing thanks to the IDF soldiers and the hundreds of thousands of people, in Israel and around the world, who continue to pray day and night for the safe return of the 3 boys. Speaking with a clear smile and a strong voice,

  

“We want… to strengthen security forces, who are working day and night, the decision makers, and the prime minister, who is in contact with us,” she said. “We pray that all the soldiers, and our children, will come home without injury. We send our thanks to all everyone participating in this extraordinary effort.....

“During these days, we feel deeply embraced by the entire Jewish nation, which accompanies us throughout the day, which gives us so much support. We ask that the prayers continue… That’s it, all we want is to hug our children. Eyal, Gilad, Naftali, we love you, we miss you, be strong, be strong!”

The public feels a degree of complete helplessness. So many of us want to do something - ANYTHING - to assist in bringing back these 3 precious sons!!! The hashtags are out in full force;  #BringBackOurBoys #EyalGiladNaftali  Social media is flooded with minute to minute updates. News slowly leaks through, some of it true and so much of it, false. Neighbors and friends, strangers and Just People are showering the families of Our Three Boys with love and messages of support. Communities of Israel are out, in full force, showing our IDF soldiers our support and appreciation with supplies, food, and treats. People want to help. People NEED to act.

There is anger, worry, sadness, and some rage, and the overwhelming feelings and acts that I've witnessed and felt over and over again are love, faith and prayer. People of all backgrounds, all colors, all places in society standing together. We all share this immense, distinct love for these 3 kidnapped boys. We share hope and faith that they are alive and that our soldiers will find them and bring them home safely. We are praying.

Where does faith come from?

I know that I was born with some of it. I have never doubted G-d's existence however my faith in Him has grown. I cannot compare the pain of these three families with the pain of a cancer journey. It's not comparable. My Cancer Journey is merely an example of horror and tragedy strengthening my faith. I connect with Racheli Frankel and all 3 mothers, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, and their ability to stand up, smiling, thanking the Nation for their prayers and kindness. They are sharing their monumental faith with us. Where does it come from? From their love for their sons? From love of G-d? I can only interpret what I see. I see 3 wives; 3 mothers who have put their existence and their beloved baby boys' fate in G-d's hands. These 3 women seem to be existing on complete faith, that no matter what happens, G-d is good. With enormous and unbreakable love and faith they are still able to smile and thank and have hope. That's faith. Where does it come from?

PLEASE continue to pray for the successful rescue and safe return of Our Boys, Eyal ben Iris Teshurah, Gilad Michael ben Bat Galim, and Yaakov Naftali ben Rachel Devorah.

Two Weeks On, One Week Off

Two weeks on, one week off. That's how my chemotherapy schedule is supposed to work.

My family 2010

Week 1: Carboplatin and Gemzar
Week 2: Gemzar
Week 3: NO chemo

Carbo, as we call it, is the mean and nasty one. That's the one that keeps me in bed or in the toilet for a full week. Gemzar seems to be a bit more friendly but still, it's chemo, it's not easy.

Carbo, is the one keeping me alive. It's the drug that's killing the cancer in the most miraculous way! It's the drug that I'll keep on taking for as long as it can do its job. That's a big deal because no one was sure that the cancer was platinum-sensitive and no one could have predicted that the tumors wrapped around and deep inside my vital organs were going to respond. It's a miracle.

Summer vacation is coming! The kids will be home from school, full time, before we know it. Some of our kids will go to day camps, some of them will be home for 2 months. I will be the full time entertainment provider. I will also be in chemotherapy, 2 weeks on, one week off.

My mom & 4 of us in 1988

I've always looked forward to summer vacation. As a child, it was filled with good times, good memories. We stayed home a lot and enjoyed just being a family, reading, drawing, doing art projects, swimming, cooking, baking. Sometimes I went to summer camp. The one constant was, I always knew that my mom was there for me. Whatever time of day or night, when I came through the front door of our home, I knew that my mom was there to hug me and love me. Mom would always make breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We had tadpoles in a big fishbowl and bugs in the bug-catcher. Mom was there to watch us swim in the pool or paint with watercolors. We could play in the mud and plant vegetables in the garden. Mom was there to drive us to Nojoqui Falls for a hike and a picnic, or to Santa Barbara, for a day at the beach. We always had the best sandwiches, cut up veggies, and of course a big juicy watermelon! Even the summer that my twin brothers were born - mere weeks later, we were off to the beach and hiking the trails! Mom did it. Dad was often at work, as dads tend to be. Mom never let us down. We always had fun. We were never hungry, we were never bored.

I used to be the one who took my kids to the beach without a second thought. I was the mom with the year round pass to the zoo and the Safari Park. I was the mom with the home made play dough and the caterpillars and the bubbles. I grew up with the perfect example of the Mom everyone wanted to have. It's hard to be the Mom With Cancer but what can you do? I still need to be the Mom. I want to be the Mom. I know that I'm being given the best chance that a Mom With Cancer could have. It's still very hard sometimes. Sometimes it's just hard. I feel guilty and I just want to lash out at the world. I want to be That Mom again. I want to be at the beach with my kids and make a lifetime of memories.

Two weeks on, one week off. Thank You, G-d for another week, another day. I will hug my babies, even when I'm weak and nauseated, and tired. Two weeks on, one week off, if I'm here, on this Earth, I hope it's enough. I hope my kids will forgive me; I love them more than anything.
Two weeks on, one week off.