I am officially tattooed (I forgot to ask if it is temporary...) and ready for radiation on Monday. The whole lower half of my body is marked up. Trust me. It is NOT a sexy sight. But if it gets those beams on that pelvic bone and those cancer cells killed off, I will sport any marks for the rest of my life!!
The techs showed me the radiation room today so that I wouldn't stress about it beforehand, and showed me exactly what we would be doing. The physicist that OK's the oncologist's plan will sign off on Monday morning and I will head over for a 2:00 kick-off. I will be visualizing God's fingers being those beams of radiation, going exactly where they need to go. I am grateful that the cancer does not seem to have spread to any soft tissue around the pelvis.
Please pray for no or minimal side effects from this treatment. Lymphadema in my right leg would be the one side effect that would NOT be good, though they have said it rarely happens. Red skin, tiredness, and bowel or bladder changes are about the only common ones to expect, and some people have none. I want to be in that category!
Tomorrow my sweet friend Lee and her husband Bob, from northern MN, are driving all the way here to see me. On their anniversary weekend no less. Their commitment to me in friendship blows me away.
We just watched the Vikings lose a pathetic game. They better get their offense in shape for next week, or we are facing a very LONG season.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
A QUICK CHECK-IN
D and I are leaving now for my (hopefully) last CT scan before radiation can begin on my hip. Apparently they will also fit me into a mold of some sort that will immobilize me for all of the treatments. I am concerned about all of the radioactivity that has been beamed into my body over the past month, but what can you do?
It was a month ago today that my family enjoyed a carefree, blissful day at the lake with our only emotion delight that it was a perfect blueberry picking day. Though we had no clue in the world, it was to be our last "normal" day for a long time. I wish time travel could transport us back there and we could feel all that again.
Dear friend Angie surprised us last night with dinner, then returned a couple hours later to chat about not only my journey, but all the wonderful mundane things going on in her life. I love her heart. Friends Chris and Lisa have stopped by with flowers and hugs and it has touched me so. Neighbor Mary has offered herself as a taxi service whenever D cannot take me to treatments. So much kindness.
Today as we leave, I am praying for the daughter of a lake friend of mine in Minnesota. She is a mother of four and today is going in for surgery for a brain tumor. I know the family wold appreciate any extra prayers for Darcie today.....that her tumor would be benign and removable, and that the family could feel some peace today as they wade through their fears.
I have a long post coming. I am trying to discern the best way to say it all. Thank you for continued prayer. You have NO idea how far your prayers have brought me, from utter despair on August 10th to today. The hand of God has been on me, and I can't thank you enough. Please don't weary of the journey with me. We have a long ways to go.
It was a month ago today that my family enjoyed a carefree, blissful day at the lake with our only emotion delight that it was a perfect blueberry picking day. Though we had no clue in the world, it was to be our last "normal" day for a long time. I wish time travel could transport us back there and we could feel all that again.
Dear friend Angie surprised us last night with dinner, then returned a couple hours later to chat about not only my journey, but all the wonderful mundane things going on in her life. I love her heart. Friends Chris and Lisa have stopped by with flowers and hugs and it has touched me so. Neighbor Mary has offered herself as a taxi service whenever D cannot take me to treatments. So much kindness.
Today as we leave, I am praying for the daughter of a lake friend of mine in Minnesota. She is a mother of four and today is going in for surgery for a brain tumor. I know the family wold appreciate any extra prayers for Darcie today.....that her tumor would be benign and removable, and that the family could feel some peace today as they wade through their fears.
I have a long post coming. I am trying to discern the best way to say it all. Thank you for continued prayer. You have NO idea how far your prayers have brought me, from utter despair on August 10th to today. The hand of God has been on me, and I can't thank you enough. Please don't weary of the journey with me. We have a long ways to go.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
NO LUCKY BREAKS
I thought that maybe, just once, the tide would turn in our favor. I thought that perhaps, just miraculously, the .1% chance that the hip was not cancerous would be true. It is cancerous. And now we find out that the tissue Duluth was supposed to send to Mayo for testing was insufficient, and now we need to start all over again and wait 2 weeks for results of that (to see if my cancer may respond to a certain drug).
It looks as though I may be starting radiation on the hip next week. I am waiting on phone calls right now. I will need yet another CAT scan first. I will know more later.
I read this quote by Verdell Davis this morning, and right now, am believing it: In the darkness of the tunnel, "keeping on" becomes a miracle.
It looks as though I may be starting radiation on the hip next week. I am waiting on phone calls right now. I will need yet another CAT scan first. I will know more later.
I read this quote by Verdell Davis this morning, and right now, am believing it: In the darkness of the tunnel, "keeping on" becomes a miracle.
Monday, September 6, 2010
BEING STILL
It has been a difficult couple of days. Fear and panic and anxiety found their paths back into my head and heart and it makes for hellish living. I become fatalistic and cry and feel no hope, all of which, of course, Satan wants me to feel.
My niece stopped in Vermillion yesterday for a couple hours and talking with her was so beneficial. She showed me that I am fighting anxiety and fear as much as cancer. And I knew that I had to do something about it. Easier said than done, obviously. But I spent a few hours reading about the importance of being "empty" before the Lord, about resting in him, allowing Him to rest in me, about being sheltered under His wings. My mom's words from the Psalms echo always in my head, "Be still and know that I am God." I have needed to be still, and haven't. I have filled myself with utter panic.
D taught me to do slow abdominal breathing last night and today I have been praying for stillness, asking God to fill me so completely with Himself that anxiety and fear and confusion and hopelessness cannot find a place to perch. It will now be my constant prayer. I need peace more than I need anything else. Peace that surpasses all understanding, peace that only Jesus can give me. Peace that covers us no matter what is ahead. I can say that today was a better day than the past two.
We were so blessed by friends Sandy and Gary who walked into our house on Saturday with a box full of food for our freezer. Sandy took a vacation day, no less, to stay home and cook. They put in main dishes and breads and soups and sandwiches and muffin batter.... it brings me to tears thinking about their selfless generosity. Talk about being Jesus's hands and feet in the world. We already know how much this will mean on days after treatment when cooking is the last thing we would want to do.
Blessed by friend Julie who came with hugs and bread and prayers and tears and told me that she is mobilizing a couple of mighty prayer warriors from her church to come with herself and pray with me weekly. I am so moved by her desire to do this for me.
We are hoping for test results this week so that a treatment decision can be made. It has felt like so much wasted time letting these tumors grow.
Please pray for peace for both D and me. Please pray for S at school, that his heart and mind are guarded from worry.
My niece stopped in Vermillion yesterday for a couple hours and talking with her was so beneficial. She showed me that I am fighting anxiety and fear as much as cancer. And I knew that I had to do something about it. Easier said than done, obviously. But I spent a few hours reading about the importance of being "empty" before the Lord, about resting in him, allowing Him to rest in me, about being sheltered under His wings. My mom's words from the Psalms echo always in my head, "Be still and know that I am God." I have needed to be still, and haven't. I have filled myself with utter panic.
D taught me to do slow abdominal breathing last night and today I have been praying for stillness, asking God to fill me so completely with Himself that anxiety and fear and confusion and hopelessness cannot find a place to perch. It will now be my constant prayer. I need peace more than I need anything else. Peace that surpasses all understanding, peace that only Jesus can give me. Peace that covers us no matter what is ahead. I can say that today was a better day than the past two.
We were so blessed by friends Sandy and Gary who walked into our house on Saturday with a box full of food for our freezer. Sandy took a vacation day, no less, to stay home and cook. They put in main dishes and breads and soups and sandwiches and muffin batter.... it brings me to tears thinking about their selfless generosity. Talk about being Jesus's hands and feet in the world. We already know how much this will mean on days after treatment when cooking is the last thing we would want to do.
Blessed by friend Julie who came with hugs and bread and prayers and tears and told me that she is mobilizing a couple of mighty prayer warriors from her church to come with herself and pray with me weekly. I am so moved by her desire to do this for me.
We are hoping for test results this week so that a treatment decision can be made. It has felt like so much wasted time letting these tumors grow.
Please pray for peace for both D and me. Please pray for S at school, that his heart and mind are guarded from worry.
Friday, September 3, 2010
BONE BIOPSY
Of all the 9 tests/scans/MRI's I have had, the bone biopsy yesterday has been the hardest, as it has really been painful. They said it could be so for up to 2 weeks. I am limping and am using crutches at times. I had pulled some muscles in that leg a few days before the biopsy which are still not healed up, so it adds insult to injury. All for a .1% chance that this is not cancer in the pelvis. We won't have results til next week.
They accidentally "overdosed" me on pain meds. Having been given Demerol during the biopsy, they gave me 2 Darvocet before I left for home. I said, "I'll just take one," (I should have explained my uber-sensitivity to drugs) but they told me to take both. By the time we got home (1/2 hour), I was slurring my words and could not walk and D had to hold me up to get me in the house. He laid me on the sofa and I was OUT for the next 4 hours.
My mind starts moving forward in fear about side effects of treatment when I let it. It is so hard to capture my thoughts and corral them in a place of peace and positivity. Some hours are better than others. It is a constant battle to do positive self-talk. I try. I try. I choose recovery. I choose life.
What is hardest for me to understand is that I cannot read books (other than cancer stuff). I must read near 90-100 books a year. I am addicted to reading. But I cannot get my head into ANYTHING. I have 3 new books sitting here, all I have wanted to read for a long time, and I can't move beyond a couple paragraphs. It would be such a wonderful outlet for my thoughts, but it isn't there. I hope it returns someday.
Please pray for the ability to trust COMPLETELY and UNRESERVEDLY in God's leading right now. 4 weeks ago, D and I had our "future" all planned out.....we had an amazing "5 year plan." Now I see this blank in front of me and that is so hard. I need to believe and trust that the future my Lord has planned for me is good, though I cannot plan it or see it or feel it. The rubber of faith meets the road. Right here. Right now. Trust or not.
They accidentally "overdosed" me on pain meds. Having been given Demerol during the biopsy, they gave me 2 Darvocet before I left for home. I said, "I'll just take one," (I should have explained my uber-sensitivity to drugs) but they told me to take both. By the time we got home (1/2 hour), I was slurring my words and could not walk and D had to hold me up to get me in the house. He laid me on the sofa and I was OUT for the next 4 hours.
My mind starts moving forward in fear about side effects of treatment when I let it. It is so hard to capture my thoughts and corral them in a place of peace and positivity. Some hours are better than others. It is a constant battle to do positive self-talk. I try. I try. I choose recovery. I choose life.
What is hardest for me to understand is that I cannot read books (other than cancer stuff). I must read near 90-100 books a year. I am addicted to reading. But I cannot get my head into ANYTHING. I have 3 new books sitting here, all I have wanted to read for a long time, and I can't move beyond a couple paragraphs. It would be such a wonderful outlet for my thoughts, but it isn't there. I hope it returns someday.
Please pray for the ability to trust COMPLETELY and UNRESERVEDLY in God's leading right now. 4 weeks ago, D and I had our "future" all planned out.....we had an amazing "5 year plan." Now I see this blank in front of me and that is so hard. I need to believe and trust that the future my Lord has planned for me is good, though I cannot plan it or see it or feel it. The rubber of faith meets the road. Right here. Right now. Trust or not.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
BOUND TOGETHER
Once upon a time an average girl was born into an average family in an average-sized midwestern town. She had a big brother and a little brother and 2 parents who loved
all of them very much. As the children grew up, as siblings do, they fought. The girl and the older brother did not get along well at all. They had little in common and used to
call each other "fink" (which was not allowed to be said in the home but was exchanged
many times anyway). The little brother cut all the hair off the girl's bride doll one day and one day he got her into a heap of trouble when he flew through the glass front door as she was chasing him.
The sister and her brothers grew up and started talking to each other like siblings should as they got into their college years. As they all moved into their 20's and 30's and started having children of their own, they finally became close. The parents were so happy that the children were acting the way they should have acted 20 years before. The sister and her brothers became bonded with an emotional glue that was impossible to define.
One day the sister was diagnosed with cancer which filled the parents and the brothers with fear and despair and grief. All they wanted was to make it go away. Those parents and those brothers, however, acted strong for the girl and even in their own pain, she knew that they would always walk beside her, no matter what happened with her disease. They all wept with her and feared with her and comforted her in ways only the 4 of them could.
She knew that they were a family for the long haul, the 5 of them. She knew that at the sound of her voice saying, "I need you," that they would come, from miles away, in an instant. She knew that those 4 people loved her with every fiber of their being because that was how much she loved them. The girl knew that the love that flowed through all of their souls was far deeper than the cancer cells imbedded in her body.
And for the girl, that was everything.
all of them very much. As the children grew up, as siblings do, they fought. The girl and the older brother did not get along well at all. They had little in common and used to
call each other "fink" (which was not allowed to be said in the home but was exchanged
many times anyway). The little brother cut all the hair off the girl's bride doll one day and one day he got her into a heap of trouble when he flew through the glass front door as she was chasing him.
The sister and her brothers grew up and started talking to each other like siblings should as they got into their college years. As they all moved into their 20's and 30's and started having children of their own, they finally became close. The parents were so happy that the children were acting the way they should have acted 20 years before. The sister and her brothers became bonded with an emotional glue that was impossible to define.
One day the sister was diagnosed with cancer which filled the parents and the brothers with fear and despair and grief. All they wanted was to make it go away. Those parents and those brothers, however, acted strong for the girl and even in their own pain, she knew that they would always walk beside her, no matter what happened with her disease. They all wept with her and feared with her and comforted her in ways only the 4 of them could.
She knew that they were a family for the long haul, the 5 of them. She knew that at the sound of her voice saying, "I need you," that they would come, from miles away, in an instant. She knew that those 4 people loved her with every fiber of their being because that was how much she loved them. The girl knew that the love that flowed through all of their souls was far deeper than the cancer cells imbedded in her body.
And for the girl, that was everything.
A DOSE OF HOPE
I will exalt you, oh Lord, for you lifted me out of the depths. You brought me up from the grave. Psalm 30:1,3
In His infinite mercy, God has reached down and taken us out of the depths of
despair and has placed us at the edge of the mountain. We will attempt now
to take baby steps upward, with HOPE in our spirits.Three things have
happened that have helped lift the heavy cloud around us.
One, so many people have been praying for us to find our way out of the tunnel......all those prayers have NOT been in vain.....they are being answered hourly as we live hour to hour right now. Thanks are inadequate for all the prayers. Two, our niece Rachel sent us a book on cancer that is the first piece of literature we literally have been able to pick up and read without a first page chart of survivability stats (which sent us emotionally plummeting each time). She says she "has her sources," but heard it was an essential. It has been. Filled with how survivors survive, filled with wellness and hope. We are devouring it.
Three, an email from my childhood best friend. We have not seen each other in over 25 years, but she is the girl I played Barbies with, the girl I learned about menstruation with, the girl who had crushes on 6th grade boys with me, the girl I had sleepovers with....who knew my every thought and dream. Distance has kept us apart, but here was this email from her, telling me amazing survival stories about her husband and niece, both who lived 10 years after a metastatic cancer diagnosis because they chose to keep living and keep planning and keep believing. Her message reminding me of my strength and courage (which I do not feel) was so timely. She reminded me that of faith, hope, and love.....what you need to walk this journey......the only temporarily missing piece is the hope. Patty made me realize that I need to find that component of my spirit. (Patty, I tried calling you last night, but you weren't home...I'll try again)
And so.....my sweet husband and I knelt down, held hands and claimed as our new direction, Deuteronomy 30:19. Moses was at the edge of the promised land, reviewing with his people, who had been wandering for 40 years, how faithful God had been to them, and held out before them this new future that was uncertain. He would not go with them into the promised land. And toward the end of Moses' series of lessons, he holds out to them what I really felt God was holding out to me. A choice.
"I have set before you life and death. Choose life, that you and your children may live, and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to His voice, and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life, and He will give you many years in the land promised." Together, D and I prayed that verse and intend to hold fast to its message. We choose life, for as long as that is.
We know that the Lord may choose the other outcome for me. And my lachrymal system has been depleted because of that reality, for there is so much more living I desire in this life. But if we do all we can do on our side, and leave the rest up to God, then it is OK. We cannot park our souls in the garage of hopelessness any more. We worship a God of hope.
On the medical front, I met with a radiation oncologist today. As if my body hasn't had enough assault, he wants a bone biopsy done tomorrow. All of the radiologists have confirmed the cancer to the hip, and he believes it is 99% accurate. But because the bone looks a bit more sclerotic on the scans, which it probably shouldn't, he says there is a 1% chance that it is something else. So I need to endure a bone biopsy for a 1% chance. You know, I could ask you all to pray that somehow, God would miraculously make that 1% factor true, and miracles happen, but I am not going to read alot into this. He is just being hyper-careful so that he does not radiate something that has a 1% chance of being non-cancerous.
So the waiting game begins yet again. I don't know if I will know results by Friday, but I will update when we know.
My niece Annie sent me ruby slippers...Truly! (red sparkly flats). They are to
help me find my way around "OZ" and remind me that "you have strength you haven't
even imagined right inside of you, just like Dorothy...home was always right there...
and so are we." The baby girl I used to claim was mine, reminding me that the time I
have can be great time, filled with blessings and opportunities and love. Thank you, sweetie, for the truth.
Kate, my made-in-love-by-you Love Bird is so precious. If I close my eyes, I can almost smell Hendy's sweet baby scent on it, and every time I hold it I feel wrapped in your arms. Thank you for love on a crochet hook.
Please continue to pray that since we are finally on the edge of the grave, we could take steps forward and not backward. That is what we need right now. Forward steps. Thank you all for your faithfulness to us.
PS. Lee, you are NOT getting out of our summer pact to memorize Psalm 30. I'm almost there, girl. You better get hoppin'..........of all the psalms that we could have chosen, isn't it totally eerie that we picked THAT one, which would have so much meaning to me....
In His infinite mercy, God has reached down and taken us out of the depths of
despair and has placed us at the edge of the mountain. We will attempt now
to take baby steps upward, with HOPE in our spirits.Three things have
happened that have helped lift the heavy cloud around us.
One, so many people have been praying for us to find our way out of the tunnel......all those prayers have NOT been in vain.....they are being answered hourly as we live hour to hour right now. Thanks are inadequate for all the prayers. Two, our niece Rachel sent us a book on cancer that is the first piece of literature we literally have been able to pick up and read without a first page chart of survivability stats (which sent us emotionally plummeting each time). She says she "has her sources," but heard it was an essential. It has been. Filled with how survivors survive, filled with wellness and hope. We are devouring it.
Three, an email from my childhood best friend. We have not seen each other in over 25 years, but she is the girl I played Barbies with, the girl I learned about menstruation with, the girl who had crushes on 6th grade boys with me, the girl I had sleepovers with....who knew my every thought and dream. Distance has kept us apart, but here was this email from her, telling me amazing survival stories about her husband and niece, both who lived 10 years after a metastatic cancer diagnosis because they chose to keep living and keep planning and keep believing. Her message reminding me of my strength and courage (which I do not feel) was so timely. She reminded me that of faith, hope, and love.....what you need to walk this journey......the only temporarily missing piece is the hope. Patty made me realize that I need to find that component of my spirit. (Patty, I tried calling you last night, but you weren't home...I'll try again)
And so.....my sweet husband and I knelt down, held hands and claimed as our new direction, Deuteronomy 30:19. Moses was at the edge of the promised land, reviewing with his people, who had been wandering for 40 years, how faithful God had been to them, and held out before them this new future that was uncertain. He would not go with them into the promised land. And toward the end of Moses' series of lessons, he holds out to them what I really felt God was holding out to me. A choice.
"I have set before you life and death. Choose life, that you and your children may live, and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to His voice, and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life, and He will give you many years in the land promised." Together, D and I prayed that verse and intend to hold fast to its message. We choose life, for as long as that is.
We know that the Lord may choose the other outcome for me. And my lachrymal system has been depleted because of that reality, for there is so much more living I desire in this life. But if we do all we can do on our side, and leave the rest up to God, then it is OK. We cannot park our souls in the garage of hopelessness any more. We worship a God of hope.
On the medical front, I met with a radiation oncologist today. As if my body hasn't had enough assault, he wants a bone biopsy done tomorrow. All of the radiologists have confirmed the cancer to the hip, and he believes it is 99% accurate. But because the bone looks a bit more sclerotic on the scans, which it probably shouldn't, he says there is a 1% chance that it is something else. So I need to endure a bone biopsy for a 1% chance. You know, I could ask you all to pray that somehow, God would miraculously make that 1% factor true, and miracles happen, but I am not going to read alot into this. He is just being hyper-careful so that he does not radiate something that has a 1% chance of being non-cancerous.
So the waiting game begins yet again. I don't know if I will know results by Friday, but I will update when we know.
My niece Annie sent me ruby slippers...Truly! (red sparkly flats). They are to
help me find my way around "OZ" and remind me that "you have strength you haven't
even imagined right inside of you, just like Dorothy...home was always right there...
and so are we." The baby girl I used to claim was mine, reminding me that the time I
have can be great time, filled with blessings and opportunities and love. Thank you, sweetie, for the truth.
Kate, my made-in-love-by-you Love Bird is so precious. If I close my eyes, I can almost smell Hendy's sweet baby scent on it, and every time I hold it I feel wrapped in your arms. Thank you for love on a crochet hook.
Please continue to pray that since we are finally on the edge of the grave, we could take steps forward and not backward. That is what we need right now. Forward steps. Thank you all for your faithfulness to us.
PS. Lee, you are NOT getting out of our summer pact to memorize Psalm 30. I'm almost there, girl. You better get hoppin'..........of all the psalms that we could have chosen, isn't it totally eerie that we picked THAT one, which would have so much meaning to me....
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