One Year Later.

It is such a strange feeling to be approaching the year mark of being diagnosed with cancer.  My first anniversary.  I don't even know what to do with that yet...

Once I realized this day was coming up, I starting thinking about how I would spend it.  I wanted it to be special and I wanted it to be happy.  I decided that the thing that would make me most happy on that day would be to make it a memorial to all the people who walked this journey with me.  There are people who gave generously to me in my time of need and it seems the only natural response is to give back.  So my day this year is for you...

Momma, Daddy and Kristin,  one plane ticket to Virginia.  You spent countless hours traveling to see me or traveling with me.  Between the three of you, there were many plane tickets... Even one surprise visit that I'm amazed you pulled off!  You drove me around after my surgery when I couldn't drive.  You took me to new places and on new adventures.  You put up with my tired body and my stubbornness.  Thank you and this time I'm coming to see you!

Ginnie Lane, one handmade necklace from Etsy.  Nothing I could say or do would really express my gratitude for all that you have done for me this past year.  Helping my mom take care of me in the hospital, staying home from Africa, going to chemo with me each week, sleeping on the couch at the Wozs, laughing with me, crying with me, listening to me, praying with me, understanding when I needed to do things on my own and when I needed your help.  You really took this on with me.   I hope the gift I chose for you will be a reminder that we both learned a little more about eternity in this process.  Thank you Gigi, you are a dear friend to me! 

The Woznicki Family (Andy, Melisa, Abby, Caleb, Stephen and Drew),  one personalized bowl for opening your home to me and cooking me wonderful meals each week.  I'm not sure I realized at the time how much the things you did for me really mattered.  Now I see that it could have been a very lonely time for me... But you came to doctor's appointments with me, opened your home to me, cooked for me, served me, loved me, comforted me, and understood me.  Thank you for giving so generously of your time, your energy, and your family so that I didn't have to face this alone.

Dr. Green, one two piece bathing suit to prove you wrong.  The first thing he said to me when I saw him after my surgery was, "So I guess you won't be wearing bikini's anymore."  Little did he know that I stopped wearing bikini's years ago.  So to prove him wrong, that I don't mind having a scar on my belly, I went and bought my first two piece suit since college.  Will I ever wear it?  Maybe in my backyard.  Thank you Dr. Green, for skillfully leaving your mark (literally).  It will always be a reminder to me of this part of my life.

Elizabeth, one skinny vanilla latte in your honor.  Each week that we went to chemo, Ginnie and I would stop at the Starbucks on the way and pick up a coffee for my nurse.  You took care of me, encouraged me, calmed my fears, made me laugh, and gave me lots of drugs (some I liked, most I didn't).  Thank you and today drank a latte as I remember all you did for me!

D-Group (Audrey, Becky, Robin, Casey, Kelsey, Kirsten, Schenk and Snickets), one t-shirt for each of you for our "family".  One of our "relatives" had suggested me make t-shirts for our family, so I decided this was as good a time as any.  I'm not finished with your shirts yet, but I did get started on them today!  Thank you for being sisters and friends to me. 

The prayers, notes and unnoticed service of many, one seed for each of you.  Today I scattered a seed for you and there were too many to count.  Just as there were too many prayers offered in my behalf, notes of encouragement sent, meals prepared, boxes packed, and phone calls made for me to even begin to thank the rest of you.  These seeds are just like your (often) unnoticed service to me, that grew up and reminded me that something beautiful was happening all along.  Though I may not even know your names, thank you for offering yourself to me in secret ways this year.  So I scattered my seeds in secret today in your honor.

And one last thing... 
My friend Robin and I went to dinner tonight to celebrate.  We had a toast in honor of a few who lost their lives to cancer.  One was very dear to me, my Aunt Cathy, who passed away from ovarian cancer 4 years ago.  The other, Elise who passed away in October, was very dear to Robin and I also got to know because of our shared experiences.  Both of them knew how to celebrate and so we had a drink in their memory tonight.

Intruder or Invader? [The Battle, Part 3]

So I started sharing my story last summer and never finished.  I thought now would be as good a time as any as I remember these days a year later.  I've referenced my previous posts recently, but you can check out Part 1 and Part 2 where it all started.

The day after they found the mass, I ended up in the gynecologist office – by myself, with a CD in hand of my CT Scan pictures, and lots of unanswered questions running through my mind.  I was only there for about 10 minutes when I found out they wouldn’t be able to see me because, according to them, they didn’t have the proper equipment to view my CD. They said I needed the written write-up from the radiologist, which takes about a week.  I was frustrated with them, to the point of tears, because they didn’t believe me when I said all they needed to do was stick the CD in the computer. Really I was just scared.  And tired of no one being able to tell me what was going on in my body.

By the end of that week, I had decided to go back to the urologist because my belly seemed so full!  I thought surely my bladder still wasn’t working properly.  After checking it out, they explained to me that they had been measuring the fluid in my mass the whole time and that I should go home.  Having learned my lesson before, I asked for a copy of the most recent written radiology report that I could take to my appointment with the gynecologist scheduled for the next week.  I grabbed my papers without looking at them and glanced up to see the entire office staff – all the nurses and the PA – watching me as I left the office.  I felt like an idiot, but also thought it was strange how concerned they all looked.

I got in my car and pulled out the papers.   The first thing that I noticed was the word ‘malignancy’ circled on the page.  I read the rest of the report in shock.  I put the car in gear and started driving back to Dahlonega.  I wasn’t really sure where I was going, but I knew I didn’t want to stay in that parking lot.  I cried the whole way back.  Mostly I thought about my aunt who had passed away 3 years earlier – almost to the date – from ovarian cancer.  And I wondered if I would ever be able to have children.  Both of those ideas were equally heartbreaking to me.  I went straight to my friend Robin’s house and I couldn’t even tell her.  I just handed her the papers.  I don’t remember much else about that day – I don’t remember what Robin and I did or talked about, I don’t remember telling my parents (though I’m sure I did).  Those moments were a blur.

At some point that weekend, I ended up reading the verses below.  They were familiar verses to me before, but all of the sudden they became real.  They jumped off the page and I understood with a new depth I couldn’t know before.

Yes and I will rejoice, for I know that this will turn out for my deliverance through your prayers and the provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ, according to my earnest expectation and hope, that I will not be put to shame in anything, but that with all boldness, Christ will even now, as always be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death.  For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.  But if I am to live on in the flesh, this will mean fruitful labor for me; and I do not know which to choose.  But I am hard-pressed from both directions, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, for that is very much better; yet to remain on in the flesh is more necessary for your sake.  Convinced of this, I know I will remain and continue with you all for your progress and joy in the faith, so that your proud confidence in me may abound in Christ Jesus through my coming to you again.  Only conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that whether I come and see you or remain absent, I will hear of you that you are standing firm in one sprit, with one mind striving together for the faith of the gospel; in no way alarmed by your opponents – which is a sign of destruction for them, but of salvation for you, and that too, from God.  For to you it has been granted for Christ’s sake, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake, experiencing the same conflict which you saw in me and now hear to be in me.  – Philippians 1: 18-30

And this became my hope, my prayer, my purpose for whatever would happen in the days ahead.  I remember wondering what are you to do when you find out something like that? Some people travel the world, quit their jobs, make bucket lists… But when I read those verses, I knew that I wasn’t going to change anything.  I wanted Christ to be exalted, the faith of those around me to be furthered, and any suffering I might experience to be an example.  I was also still hoping it would turn out to be nothing.

A Year Ago Yesterday...

...this is what they found.  It's big, huh!  You can read about it here.  It brought me to tears thinking about it this morning.  I can remember calling my mom as I sat in Starbucks right after I found out.  So I sent my parents a message this morning and said, "A year ago yesterday I called to tell you I had a mass.  I thought you'd like to know that this year I don't."  That made me smile :) 

Chemo Countdown

The night before my last chemo treatment, my friends threw me a surprise party to celebrate the end!  It was a really sweet time and brought closure to all that I had been through.  During my treatment, the Woznicki's treated me to a weekly dinner to mark another treatment down.  It usually consisted of a recipe from Pioneer Woman, singing along to The Final Countdown (replacing it with chemo countdown), and tearing a page off of my countdown calendar that Melisa and Abby made.  So I walked into the party that night with The Final Countdown playing, a finish line to run through, and the last page of my calendar to tear off.  It was such a special time as many of them shared stories of how they were personally impacted by it all.  I just got the pictures back from that night so here they are!



On another note, I am coming up on a year since I first found out.  In fact, a year ago yesterday, I learned that there was a problem (though they were way off)... you can read about my super trooper doctors here.  Most days I don't think about my cancer anymore, but this season is lending itself to many reminders.  In strange and small ways... the warmth in the air, the driving route to Gainesville (where all my doctors are), long runs, campus outreach events, spring break, dinner at the Wozs, phone calls from friends, sitting in Starbucks.   But I am thankful to feel alive again and to have the chance to add new memories to this season. 

Ten In Twenty-Ten: All the Rest

So clearly my "Ten In Twenty-Ten" plan did not go as I expected it to.  But really the entire year of 2010 did not go as I expected it to, so it's sort of fitting.  However, I figured that surely I could still come up with a list of these things, though it maybe wasn't as intentional as I thought it would be.  So here is my attempt along with something unexpected about each one to fit my theme for 2010!

#1 - Run a 10K. We ended up running in the snow...brrr!
#2 - Shave my head.  I didn't even cry. 
#3 - See seven states at once.  I wasn't that impressed.
#4 - Get a passport.  And not use it.  (Trying again this year).
#5 - Have Surgery.  Waking up to a 7" incision down my abdomen.
#6 - Live in a 3 bedroom house with 6 other people for 3 months.  I loved it and it was a major grace in my life. (PS - 4 of them were children)
#7 - Speak at Outhouse (weekly Campus Outreach meeting).  I didn't embarass myself.
#8 - Go to the Tech vs. UGA game.  It was actually a good game.
#9 - Take a seminary class.  I didn't feel like an idiot.
#10 - Write a blog.  People actually read it!  Thanks :)

Psalm 103 - Here's to Two Months!

Bless the LORD, O my soul,
And all that is within me, bless His holy name.
Bless the LORD, O my soul,
And forget none of His benefits;
Who pardons all your iniquities,
Who heals all your diseases;
Who redeems your life from the pit,
Who crowns you with lovingkindness and compassion;
Who satisfies your years with good things,
So that your youth is renewed like the eagle.

The LORD performs righteous deeds
And judgments for all who are oppressed.
He made known His ways to Moses,
His acts to the sons of Israel.
The LORD is compassionate and gracious,
Slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness.
He will not always strive with us,
Nor will He keep His anger forever.
He has not dealt with us according to our sins,
Nor rewarded us according to our iniquities.
For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
So great is His lovingkindness toward those who fear Him.
As far as the east is from the west,
So far has He removed our transgressions from us.
Just as a father has compassion on his children,
So the LORD has compassion on those who fear Him.

For He Himself knows our frame;
He is mindful that we are but dust.
As for man, his days are like grass;
As a flower of the field, so he flourishes.
When the wind has passed over it, it is no more,
And its place acknowledges it no longer.
But the lovingkindness of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear Him, And His righteousness to children's children,
To those who keep His covenant
And remember His precepts to do them.
The LORD has established His throne in the heavens,
And His sovereignty rules over all.

Bless the LORD, you His angels,
Mighty in strength, who perform His word,
Obeying the voice of His word!
Bless the LORD, all you His hosts,
You who serve Him, doing His will.
Bless the LORD, all you works of His,
In all places of His dominion; Bless the LORD, O my soul!

Matters of Life and Death

Last night I shared at our campus meeting about my journey with cancer. As I reflect on my story with cancer, I am reminded of another story. And this story is about you. It is one that is not merely physical as mine was, but it is one that is spiritual and has eternal impact. So where are you in this story?

Are you… Clueless?
There was a period of time when I had no idea that I had cancer. Though outwardly I seemed strong and healthy, inwardly a disease had begun to multiply and destroy. It was aggressive and had the power to kill me. In the same way, we can be clueless that there is something way more powerful, aggressive and life-threatening than cancer. And instead of our bodies, it affects our souls. Yet outwardly we seem strong and able, but inwardly we are wasting away.

Jeremiah 17: 9-10 says, “The heart is more deceitful than all else and is desperately sick; Who can understand it? I, the LORD, search the heart, I test the mind, Even to give to each man according to his ways, According to the results of his deeds.” The Word also informs us that our deeds are sinful and deserve death (Romans 3:23 and 6:23).

Our hearts are sick. And by hearts I do not mean an organ, I mean your person: your thoughts, your mind, your will, all of it. And some of you are oblivious that there is something so wrong with your heart.

Are you… Ignoring the Symptoms?
When I first started to notice a bulge in my abdomen, I ignored it. I wrote it off as nothing. I made excuses or blamed it on other things. “I must just be gaining weight…” Some of us are aware that there is a problem in our souls, but we are not yet willing to admit it. We ignore it, write it off, blame other things for the ache in our souls.

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” - Matthew 6:19-21

You have treasured things other than God and as a result you have symptoms of emptiness, lonlieness, guilt, shame, or discontentment to name a few. You find ways to numb or run but they always fade.

Are you… Diagnosing the Problem?
I came to a point when I could no longer ignore my symptoms because they had started to become obvious to me that there was a problem. So I went to an expert to find out what was going on. Along the way, however, I was misdiagnosed and told I had a problem with my bladder. Eventually they discovered the real problem, which was the initial step in being able to successfully treat it. Some of us have come to a point in our lives where we can no longer ignore that there is a problem that runs deep in our souls. But we can be in danger of misdiagnosing our problem, saying, “If only I had ______, then everything would be ok.” What would you fill in there? Money? Success? A Relationship? The Right Appearance? What is it?

Your real problem is that your heart is sick and you are helpless to change that. I could not heal myself of cancer, I had to find the one who was able to heal me. The first step in getting the right treatment is admitting to the real problem.

"And hearing this, Jesus said to them, 'It is not those who are healthy who need a physician, but those who are sick; I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners.'" - Mark 2:17

Are you… Ready for Surgery?
Once we found the problem, we realized it could not stay. It had to be removed. Cut out. And that required surgery. In the same way, the Bible says we need our old hearts cut out and new ones put in. We need a transplant. And this requires a willingness to submit to a surgeon. I had to trust my doctor, that he had the ability to remove my mass and would do whatever it took to save my life. In the same way, we need to trust Jesus with our souls.

“Moreover, I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; and I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.” - Ezekiel 36: 26

Pain and suffering accompanied the removal of my cancer. There was no other option. However, spiritually we have one who underwent the pain and suffering for us to remove our disease. There was no other option. And we will never have to know what it cost Jesus in order to save our souls.

"But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed." - Isaiah 53: 5

Are you… Aware of the Side Effects?
The second part of my treatment included chemotherapy. And this treatment required me to give up some things. I lost my hair, my energy, my appetite, my ability to taste food, my time, my money, my summer. We would all agree, however, that it would be utterly foolish of my to deny the chemo because I was unwilling to give up my hair. In the same way there are side effects to following Jesus. He will ask you to give up the things your heart formerly treasured. Yet it would be foolish of us to cling to these things and lose our soul. Just as it would have been foolish of my to cling to my appearance when my life was on the line.

"For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?" - Matthew 16: 24-15

Are you… In Remission?
Remission means that there is no more visible evidence of cancer in my body. Yet it does not ignore the threat of it’s recurrence. I see the doctor more regularly to ensure and guard my health. And to catch any recurrence that does come before it takes control of my body. This is essential for our spiritual health, too. Those of us who have undergone the radical procedure to save our souls must tend to guarding this new life. We cannot be unaware of the power or former lives can have if we allow it to creep back in.

"My son, be attentive to my words; incline your ear to my sayings. Let them not escape from your sight; keep them within your heart. For they are life to those who find them, and healing to all their flesh. Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life." - Proverbs 4: 20-23

We are waiting for the cure.
They tell me it will be 10 or 15 years of no recurrence before we could consider my body as cured. There is a waiting period. A time where I look forward to this day. We also look forward spiritually to the day when our healing will be complete and final.

"He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the LORD has spoken. It will be said on that day, "'Behold, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the LORD; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.'" - Isaiah 25: 8-9

So I ask you to consider, where are you…? An invitation has been made to you, “Come and be healed.” This is a matter of life and death, so which will you choose?

I'm A Survivor.

I finished my last treatment this past Monday! Ginnie came in town and Snickets came, too. Elizabeth, the nurse, made brownies. Jacqueline, the PA, brought cookies and balloons. They tied the balloons to my ET, wheely thing. And my friends threw me a surprise party the night before. It was wonderful.

I was meeting with my doctor during my fourth cycle and he warned me that the end would be the worst. He said that when you get to the last cycle you will see why we only go for 6... because your body can't handle any more. The chemo has a cumulative effect where it has all built up in your system by the end. These past three weeks have been rough physically: lots of nausea and I am so dang tired all the time! I struggle to get through a day and I have to take several breaks. But I am thankful... that I have enough energy to get out and do some things, that I'm still able to exercise (though a mile it about my limit now), and that the nausea is not constant but comes in waves.

And I am most thankful to be done! Now each week my body can begin recovering rather than getting more taken out of it. Ahhh, a real sense of relief. Just the other day I was filing away some bills I had gotten in the mail, and I pulled out this folder from the American Cancer Society that they had given me to organize all my stuff. And I realized I am a cancer survivor. That's still kind of surreal to me even after all the surgery and chemo. Though I've never run a marathon, in some ways I imagine it to be much the same way. You get to the end and practically crawl across the finish line. You are exhausted but you have endured. I feel like that.

The Past Few Weeks

- My dad came in town and we did lots of fun things! We spent a few days in Atlanta going to a Braves game, seeing the Bodies Exhibition, watching CATS at the Fox, and eating at yummy restaurants. He also helped me paint my new room and move into my new house.

- We had to push back the start of Cycle 5 because of low blood counts. I went that Monday morning to find out my platelets were too low. I went back on Wednesday morning to find out my platelets had come up, but now my ANC was too low. So I wasn't able to get treated until the following Monday.

- I think I had a reaction to the medicine I was taking during the first week of Cycle 5. For the most part I felt pretty good and was able to do more than normal that week. But one night, after taking this medicine, I started to feel achy and antsy. I had been talking with one of my roommates and had to go lay down. I couldn't sleep because my body felt so anxious and it was all I could do but to breathe in and out to try to calm down. I thought I might be having a reaction to the meds, and sure enough around 2 that night it had worn off. I won't be taking that again!

- With school starting back up I feel caught between two worlds. Some moments I spend with college students who are young, energetic, lively. Other moments I am in the world of cancer where most people are older, sick, and some are even dying. I struggle to live between the two some days because these places know nothing of each other. Yet I know both so well.

- I have been able to do (surprisingly) many of the things that I did before on campus. But I also wore myself out the first full week back at school. I'm trying to figure out a schedule that is manageable for me and how to communicate my limitations to people.

- The end is in sight... I will start my last cycle of chemo next week. As I'm nearing the end I've begun to think a lot about what life after chemo will be like. Lately I have feared that I will forget this part of my life. Or ignore it. Or not be changed by it. I don't want to be so eager to move on with life that I fail to remember all of these moments. I want to hang on to them - even the hard ones. I hope I can.

Sweet Comfort

We read this at church on Sunday morning, from the Heidelberg Catechism, and it warmed my soul:

What is your only comfort in life and in death?

That I am not my own, but belong—body and soul, in life and in death to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ.

He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood, and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil. He also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven: in fact, all things must work together for my salvation.

Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.

Fun With Wigs

During treatment a few weeks ago we discovered a stash of wigs in the office. I think they're used wigs that have been donated for patients to take (which is why they are mostly for older women...). I decided to get a little crazy and try them on. I learned a few things in the process: how I might look in 30 years and that I'll stick with the scarves...
















I don't think I'll ever dye my hair blonde, this one is awful!
















We call the one on the left Medusa and the one on the right actually looked kind of normal!

My Treatment Plan

I was looking back over my blog and have realized that I never explained my chemo treatment! My treatment plan consists of 6 cycles of treatment. Each cycle is 3 weeks long, which adds up to 18 weeks of treatment. And I get treatment once a week, which adds up to 18 treatments. Which amounts to about 4 1/2 months of this stuff. So if you include my surgery and port placement that means I am spending half of 2010 killing cancer. Holla. At least we hope.

Day One: For about the first hour I am there I get a few things that help my body to take the chemo. The nurse sticks a needle in my port and then attaches an IV to get all of these drugs: Steroids (not the jacked up kind, the anti-inflammatory kind). Pepcid (for my stomach). Some kind of anti-nausea stuff. And Benedryl (funny story about that, lets just say I have a reputation in the office with my benedryl). As hard as I try, I CANNOT stay awake when they give me that drug! During this time we watch Regis and Kelly. Usually I can make it to the end of the show before I go to sleep. Then I get the chemo. Taxol and Carboplatin. Each one takes about an hour and fifteen minutes. The whole time they're running saline through my system, too, so I have to pee a lot. I mean a lot. And that process is fun because I unplug my machine and wheel it to the room with me. It reminds me of ET... Then the saline runs by itself for about another 30 minutes and we get to go home! So the process takes about 4-5 hours.

Week One: Generally I start to feel the side effects a few days later - on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. This means nausea, aches, fatigue... I also return to the office a few times during the week for various things: shots to keep my blood counts high enough for treatment and blood work to keep track of it all.

Day Eight: One week later I get another round of chemo. Same story as before, only this time I just get the Taxol and we're out by lunch time!

Week Two: Though I still get more tired on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, I don't usually feel nauseous or achy. Although more recently I have started to have some problems with nausea on these weeks too. But it doesn't even compare to week one. A more well known side effect of the Taxol is hair loss. And I am back for more shots and tests during this week also.

Day Fifteen: Same as day eight.

Week Three: Same as week two.

Now, this past week I had a Day One kind of treatment. And I dread these because of how terrible it usually makes me feel. But this go round was so much better. I think we've figured out the drug combinations to control the nausea. And the aches. So I still got pretty tired but I was actually able to sleep this time. And read. And watch movies. During Cycle 3 I really thought I was not going to make it. I know this seems dramatic but it was really rough. But after making it through the first week of Cycle 4, I feel like I can do this! Wooo!

My God is True

Ginnie got me this book and I have been reading through it lately. Thanks Ginnie!

"God healed me of my cancer. But he gave no promise to heal me. The promises he has made point me beyond my fortunes in this life and direct my attention to the life to come. This is why I have always tried to speak about my experience in language that avoids the suggestion that God's faithfulness to me was evidenced in the fact that he healed me. The language of 'faithfulness' implies promises kept. Yes, he was faithful to me. And yes, he healed me. But those two realities did not go hand in hand. Let me put it plainly: had I died of cancer at the age of twenty-eight, leaving Christy a widow on her first wedding anniversary, God would still have been what he was, and is, and will always be: the Ever Faithful One. My healing was not a promise kept; it was simply a gift God was pleased to give - though a gift he is not please to give in every single case."
- Paul Wolfe

"Whooah, We're Half Way There..."

So I have finished Cycle 3 of my chemo treatment, which marks the halfway point! Part of me can't believe how fast it's gone. But part of me can't believe how much I have left. Especially since they tell me it will only get worse. Yet, I can see some light at the end of tunnel and I like thinking about all the things I'll do when I feel like a normal person again.

This morning I woke up feeling nauseous, which is the first time I have felt sick from just a Taxol treatment. It leaves me wondering if that is telling of what the next leg of treatment will be like. Will the nausea and fatigue be my companion these next 9 weeks? Anyway, I got to try the Zofran... And within 30 minutes I was good to go! So this is a real blessing.

I also met a new patient at treatment this week. Her name is Sheila. Hearing her story really put things into perspective for me. She has two ports in her body: one in her chest and one in her abdomen. When she comes in for chemo, she gets drugs injected into her veins and also directly into her abdomen. She has ovarian cancer that had spread to things like her colon, appendix, intestines, and I don't know what else. But she is constantly in pain and constantly nauseous. When we were getting up to leave, she said to me, "So when you leave here you can pretty much go do anything you want?" (meaning that afternoon)... When I told her that I could, she responded, "Lucky." She's right, I have a lot to be thankful for.

I'm loosing my eyebrows and eyelashes now, too. Such a strange thing! I feel anxious when I think about getting through next week's treatment. They stick me several times a week now - sometimes in my chest, sometimes my arm, sometimes my vein, sometimes my butt... I've got a CT scan scheduled for the morning. It's a routine thing. But also kind of scary when I think about it. I don't expect the scans to show anything at this point, but the thought creeps in... What if something's there? Oh life as a cancer patient. Lots of waiting. Always unpredictable.

"...Whooah, living on a prayer!!!"

Jesus, Lover Of My Soul

Jesus, lover of my soul, let me to Thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll, while the tempest still is high.
Hide me, O my Savior, hide, will the storm of life is past;
Safe into the haven guide; Oh, receive my soul at last.

Other refuge have I none, hangs my helpless soul on Thee;
Leave, ah! leave me not alone, still support and comfort me.
All my trust on Thee is stayed, all my help from Thee I bring;
Cover my defenseless head with the shadow of Thy wing.

Wilt Thou not regard my call? Wilt Thou not accept my prayer?
Lo! I sink, I faint, I fall— Lo! on Thee I cast my care.
Reach me out Thy gracious hand! While I of Thy strength receive,
Hoping against hope I stand, dying, and behold, I live.

Thou, O Christ, art all I want, more than all in Thee I find;
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, heal the sick, and lead the blind.
Just and holy is Thy Name, source of all true righteousness;
Thou art evermore the same, shou art full of truth and grace

Plenteous grace with Thee is found, grace to cover all my sin;
Let the healing streams abound; Make and keep me pure within.
Thou of life the fountain art, freely let me take of Thee;
Spring Thou up within my heart; Rise to all eternity.

Me Vs. Chemo

I'm coming out of the first week of Cycle 3 of chemo. This has been the hardest week so far and I think the drugs are starting to take a toll on my body. Though the side effects only last 3-4 days, I find myself dreading the start of the next three cycles. During these days, I am tempted to wonder if we really need to finish the treatment. Maybe it's been enough? But we press on.

So what are the nights like? Tossing and turning, never really falling asleep. Wondering if and when I will feel sick enough to throw up. Maybe then I can get to sleep. And the days? I began each morning with nausea and vomiting. And no appetite to sustain what my body was using up. So I felt weak. And so tired. The kind of tired that I don't feel like I can stand up. But a dull ache in my legs. So I can't get comfortable when I lay down. Such an agonizing feeling of not being able to sleep or stay awake. Torn between the two. Counting down the hours when I know I will feel a part of the living world again. I can't read or watch tv because of the nausea. So I just wait.

So I tell you all of this becuase I have some potentially good news that I want to share! I was on a drug called Compazine for my nausea, but today the nurse gave me a prescription for Zofran. (Note: it's surprising to me how many drugs I put into my body through all this... so many drugs to offset the side effects of the chemo! Right now I have four pill bottles next to my bed - all of which I am taking - yikes!) So please pray that my body likes this! I was recently listening to a Matt Chandler update where he was thanking viewers for their prayers. Apparently he had experienced nausea and depression during a treatment and had more recently not had those side effects. Would you ask God that the next 3 cycles would be more bearable - no nausea, no fatigue, good rest? Thank you!

Finding The Intruder [The Battle, Part 2]

A few weeks ago, I was given the task of leading a devotion at our staff training. I decided to share my battle story and now I’m sharing it with you. 

So, I ended up back in the urologist office after the weekend with the pee bag, desperately hoping my bladder would be functioning. The first thing the nurse said to me when she called me back was that they needed to do another CT scan. At this point, I was beginning to learn the art of asking questions since they weren’t telling me much of anything. Very nonchalantly, she said the radiologist thought he saw a mass but not to worry because the doctor just thinks it was my bladder. So at this point I really thought nothing of it, probably because I was so nervous about the bladder test they were about to do.

We started with the bladder test, something called void and empty, I think. Which is just like it sounds. I got to have my bladder filled up through a catheter and then see if I could pee it all out. I don’t think I’ve ever concentrated so much while relieving myself. We moved on to the CT scan and while she was getting the thing ready I asked her if I’d “passed the test.” If I hadn’t been laying on the table for the scan, I probably would have done a cheerleading move when she told me I had. I cannot describe to you how excited I was.

After the scan, I ended up waiting in a room for a while. The PA came in and sat down. He looked cautiously at me and said, “Do you have a gynecologist?” I thought, “Why is this relevant right now?” But instead responded with, “Uhhh, yea.” Again, cautiously, he said, “Well you’ll need to schedule an appointment. You have a mass on your ovary.” And that was it. I said “Ok,” and left the office. Maybe my mind was still on the bladder victory or maybe I was in shock, but it really didn’t seem like a big deal. Until I talked to my mom. She seemed concerned. Maybe I should be concerned. Then I really started to take it in. A mass. What does that mean? A cyst? Or a tumor? Or something else? I started to get scared.

Then I found this glorious verse in my Bible. I think I actually had read it over the weekend but it had little meaning at the time. But now it seemed the verse had been written for this moment. I was reminded that this mysterious mass had not gone unseen by God. But I began to pray this Psalm – that God would not keep silent over it, that He would awake to my right and act, that He would not allow this thing to swallow me up.

You have seen it, O Lord, do not keep silent; O Lord, do not be far from me. Stir up Yourself, and awake to my right and to my cause, my God and my Lord. Judge me, O Lord my God, according to Your righteousness, and do not let them rejoice over me. Do not let them say in their heart, “Aha, our desire!” Do not let them say, “We have swallowed him up!” Let those be ashamed and humiliated altogether who rejoice at my distress; Let those be clothed with shame and dishonor who magnify themselves over me.” - Psalm 35: 22-26

Looking back, I see God’s hand in the timing of things. I left the urologist that day and made an appointment for the gynecologist the very next day. They ended up not being able to see me because the report from my CT was not ready yet. I was mad about it. I didn’t know it at the time, but I needed to have a conversation with a guy from my church first. But I’ll tell you about that in the next part.

Ten in Twenty-Ten: Shave My Head

In order to keep life interesting, I've decided to do ten things this year that I've never done before... Here's to number two!

#2 - Shave my head
















Let's be honest, I wouldn't have chosen this one on my own. But I might as well embrace it! I even wrote an "Ode To My Hair" to commemorate the day:

You and me,
We didn't always agree.

You were curly when I wanted you to be straight,
I never understood why you couldn't always look great!

But I will never forget the day we met Chi,
Finally you would see the way I wanted you to be.

And then there's the time we got to know Danielle,
That was when we really started to gel.

So when I first heard you might not stick around,
I really didn't like how that would sound.

Surely you wouldn't skip town,
Just because of what they found?

Then the day came when you decided not to stay,
And I couldn't believe how quickly you went away.

Later that week you got your wish,
We got out the scissors and called on Melis.

Well now I'm ready for you to move on,
So I'm getting Andy and this time you'll be gone.

I know you'll be back soon,
And until then my head will look like a balloon.
See you next June!

Super Troopers [The Battle, Part 1]

A few weeks ago, I was given the task of leading a devotion at our staff training. I decided to share my battle story and now I’m sharing it with you. 
 

If you’ve ever seen the movie Super Troopers, which I kind of hope you haven’t, then you would understand why it is the namesake for this part. This was my college roommate’s favorite movie so I’ve seen parts of it. It’s about a group of state troopers who do some really ridiculous things to keep their jobs. So maybe I’m going a little far here by comparing my doctors to the guys in this movie, but at least it makes me laugh about it.

This is the part of the story where I begin to discover that I’m having health problems. I started out at my general physician for a physical. I had noticed my lower abdomen bulging, but I honestly didn’t think it was a big deal. I thought maybe I was bloated or gaining weight, but I was concerned enough to get it checked out. And I thought I’d get my money’s worth by throwing in a yearly physical and ask her about it while there. She told me it was my bladder and immediately sent me to the urologist that afternoon. Four hours, 1 ultrasound, 2 CT scans, 5 catheter attempts, 1 catheter bag attached to my leg and $700 later, I left the office thinking I had a malfunctioning bladder.

And that was really depressing to me. Over the weekend, while I dragged a pee bag around the house, I realized I didn’t believe that God would actually hear and answer my prayers. I didn’t believe He would grant me relief from my health problem. I kept reading the verse below and begging God to deliver me from my troubles.

The righteous cry, and the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. – Psalm 34: 17-18

Looking back, I see that God was working on my behalf to reveal what was really going on my body. Though the doctors were content with the diagnosis that my bladder just wasn’t working, the radiologist wasn’t. He ordered another CT scan because he believed it showed a mass. And thus, I affectionately gave them their name, Super Troopers.

It's Not About the Bike

Ok, but it kind of is. In case you have never heard of this book or this man (which seems crazy to me, but my dad is a fan of road racing so I probably know more than the average person)... Lance Armstrong was diagnosed with cancer at age 25, and his cancer had spread to his lungs and his brain. He went on to win something like 7 Tour de France's after it was all said and done.

I had remembered my dad reading the book a while back and I thought I'd read it in light of my current situation. I really couldn't put the book down. Reading his story is so familiar, and I think a great book to understand what cancer is like - the discovery, the treatment, and the surviving. It brought up something I hadn't thought much about, which was the surviving part. Well, on one hand I've thought about it because I plan on surviving. But he almost describes life after cancer as the hardest part of it all. It helped me have some idea of what the days ahead will be like.

He says, "When you think about it, what other choice is there but to hope? We have two options, medically and emotionally: give up or fight like hell." Now, what Lance Armstrong puts his hope in and what I put my hope in a very different things, but I love this quote. Maybe because I'm beginning to learn something of the emotional fight involved with cancer. The physical side seems obvious. But the emotional side might be harder.

So the book is mostly about his battle with cancer, but it's also about battling back to being one of the best cyclists ever. It seems that he learned the mental toughness necessary to endure and win such a race as the Tour from his treatment for cancer. It changed him. And I'm glad he wrote about it for me to read.