Itchy

Itchy. That's how I describe my state of being when Jeremy comes home every day and asks me that predictable question: "How are you?". "Itchy", I say.  It's true. Since the day after surgery, I have been so.  And it's been spreading. Down my back, across my chest, around to my belly, my thighs and the backs of my knees too.  I thought it was an allergic reaction to anesthesia or pain medicine, but having been off both of those for over a week now they're not a likely culprit.

Ippy is though.  Ippy is a drug.  It was the first (& the only so far) drug they gave me as a part of the research study I was a part. It is an FDA approved treatment for people who have Stage IV disease, meaning the cancer has metastasized to a distant location in the body. In some people, the drug has been shown to shrink and even get rid of these distant tumors.  The study I signed up for was designed to test if Ippy would have the same effect on people that may or may not still have cancer cells, attacking them before they show up in that other location. 

I was excited to get the drug through that study.  It was also free since it was for research.  But since my cancer came back, I am disqualified.  I only received one dose, in early December. No one knows how many doses a person really needs to kick their immune system into hyper-drive (essentially what Ippy does).

Anyway, now I've broken out in this non-relenting itchy rash, one of the side effects of the Ippy.  Is it working?  I don't know.  I guess it's good news that my immune system is doing something.  Going crazy.  Hopefully learning to recognize and destroy any stray, rouge cancer cells that may remain in my body.

This has become a constant reminder of a deep work inside me, taking place where I cannot see.  I can't help but think, what other work does Jesus want to do, deep in my soul, where I cannot see?  What rouge remnants of my flesh given over to sin does he want to destroy?  What is hidden to my eyes yet visible to his Spirit working in me as I ask him to refine me, renew my mind, and heal my body of the cancer of sin that eats away at my being and destroys my intimacy with God. As I hope to even handle this suffering in a way that honors him and bring glory to his awesomeness, I must allow for and desire his work in my spirit too- not just in my physical being. Molding me, shaping me inside and out to reflect his Kingdom.

I was asking Jeremy last night, wondering how long I will wake up in the night itching myself involuntarily.  He said, "I hope for a long time."  Maybe it's working, maybe it's not. Regardless, I'm itchy. And I'm not sure I want it to go away.