All I know is that ... I'm not getting any chemotherapy this week! I am rejoicing! Today is the first day that I've been able to really comprehend this good news. I've been so sick for 18 days from the last chemo. But today .... I've just been walking around the house all day saying "Andrew. I need to tell you something." Yes Mom? "I'm not getting chemo this week!!!!" .... and we both smile a real relaxed smile. Ahhhhhhhh.
Oh ... I did get Andrew's virus, but I didn't get a fever. No ER visits for me!!!!! Sweet people covering me in sweet prayer. I am blest.
Bill and I fly to Chicago (Cancer Treatment Ctrs of America) for a Wed 2:00pm MRI (otherwise known as the Vietnamese Flashback Chamber). Then we meet with the surgeon Thursday @9:00am.
Depending on what 'they' say ... I may stay for surgery on Monday and that means I'd be gone a whole week or more. I would like to be able to let you know if we stay. I'll see if I can have Andrew send out an email from home.
"Lord, You spoke thru Balaam's donkey in the old testament. I'm trusting you to speak Your words of hope and life thru these tests and doctors. You go ahead of me, Lord ... I'll meet You in the MRI machine"
Riddle of the day: What's the difference between major surgery and minor surgery?
Answer: (say this outloud) "Mine" is major, and "Yours' is minor.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Word of the Day: RIDICULOUS
I have truly been feeling defeated and foolish for my earlier 'ridiculous' prayers. So I've decided to "lay down at His feet" and submit to His will. Rough. It seemed that I was going to have to walk thru this difficult trial without being 'rescued'. Sad. He knows what I need & desire ... and I've said all I can say to Him. I will remain at His feet and submitted to His will ... BUT as of Friday, I have changed my mind about feeling foolish about the 'ridiculous' prayer part. Here's why:
The appointment this past Friday was special because I was meeting with my chief oncologist (whom I haven't seen since chemo began). We'll call him the 'big guy'. CTCA assured me that it was not a pivotal or important appointment. But I thought:
You never saw a happier person in the chemo infusion chair that day. I probably had that proverbial good attitude that everyone tells me is so important, but that I haven't been able to muster up before this.
The MRI is the final authority (but don't believe that either ... God is the final authority) ... not a doctor's hands or hunch. So, hey ... may it be even better than what the doctor said. May my lymph nodes be cured, as well. Ridiculous. Simply Ridiculous. I still have a long road ahead of me. Surgery. Possibly more chemo (less dose) and radiation and hormone therapy. It's all about those lymph nodes. But I'm in a ridiculous mood. And want to stay there right now.
Thru this cancer/chemo ordeal ... I have realized that my anxiety is wacko. And has been for years. And God graciously had 2 girlfriends 'waiting in the wings' to help me out. They have prayed with me, cried with me, given me their time, and offered tools to use to ward off the anxiety. And my pastor has been faithful, along with them. God is good. It was not perfect, but the anxiety was definitely better.
Now don't tell anyone I said this (and don't hold me to it) ... but it crossed my mind that this cancer has been a 'gift' of sorts. It has exposed the fact that this high level of anxiety is not necessary ... harmful. If I can go forward to live my life with normal levels of anxiety, then I will indeed have received a gift from this illness. Utterly ridiculous.
I am amazed, and I hope you are. I hope you are encouraged. I'm trying to relish in the moment. Trying to believe it's all true. For today ... I believe it.
So happy you have joined me for this roller coaster ride. Last time, nearly every thing was nasty. This time it was all good. I like "good" better. Here's to ridiculous praying.
Question of the Day: How's your anxiety level?
The appointment this past Friday was special because I was meeting with my chief oncologist (whom I haven't seen since chemo began). We'll call him the 'big guy'. CTCA assured me that it was not a pivotal or important appointment. But I thought:
maybe the 'big guy' will see such improvement that he would change my scheduleBut they assured me that that never happens. Rare at best. I was actually trying to get treatment #4 (out of 6) here in Cleveland. But it didn't work out so i was able to see the 'big guy' in Chicago right before treatment #4 as planned. He came in with a troop of others and examined my tumor and said it felt like healthy tissue, and that it appears that it has pulled away from the chest wall !!! He said:
and and cut my chemo treatments short. ridiculous.
Today will be your last chemo!!!! When you come back in 3 weeks, you will get an MRI and then see the surgeon for a possible lumpectomy !!!!! Not a mastectomy !!!! He said I was a classic success case for getting chemo before surgery to shrink the tumor.He basically told me I will be fine. He has 30 years of oncology experience ... I'm trying to rest in his expertise!
You never saw a happier person in the chemo infusion chair that day. I probably had that proverbial good attitude that everyone tells me is so important, but that I haven't been able to muster up before this.
The MRI is the final authority (but don't believe that either ... God is the final authority) ... not a doctor's hands or hunch. So, hey ... may it be even better than what the doctor said. May my lymph nodes be cured, as well. Ridiculous. Simply Ridiculous. I still have a long road ahead of me. Surgery. Possibly more chemo (less dose) and radiation and hormone therapy. It's all about those lymph nodes. But I'm in a ridiculous mood. And want to stay there right now.
Thru this cancer/chemo ordeal ... I have realized that my anxiety is wacko. And has been for years. And God graciously had 2 girlfriends 'waiting in the wings' to help me out. They have prayed with me, cried with me, given me their time, and offered tools to use to ward off the anxiety. And my pastor has been faithful, along with them. God is good. It was not perfect, but the anxiety was definitely better.
Now don't tell anyone I said this (and don't hold me to it) ... but it crossed my mind that this cancer has been a 'gift' of sorts. It has exposed the fact that this high level of anxiety is not necessary ... harmful. If I can go forward to live my life with normal levels of anxiety, then I will indeed have received a gift from this illness. Utterly ridiculous.
I am amazed, and I hope you are. I hope you are encouraged. I'm trying to relish in the moment. Trying to believe it's all true. For today ... I believe it.
So happy you have joined me for this roller coaster ride. Last time, nearly every thing was nasty. This time it was all good. I like "good" better. Here's to ridiculous praying.
Question of the Day: How's your anxiety level?
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Wobbly
I must've written a new blog entry 10 times!!! I've erased every one of them!! The words just keep coming out all wrong. Hmph.
What I've been meaning to tell you is that i am have a REALLY hard time with ANXIETY ... faith ... sadness.... and ANXIETY!!!!!
The words anxiety and sadness may not make any sense to you when I tell you that the tumor has shrunk again, and no longer has palpable definitive borders. And how can those words possibly make sense to you when I tell you that the side effects were indeed lessened on days 6,7,8 this time? (that's when they usually go thru the roof!)
It's just the constant-ness of this painful trial. The cumulative problems my body is having week after week. The fact that the 'systemic candidiasis' I have been trying to eradicate for over 11 years is the culprit of the extreme nature of my side effects. I am now on new anti-fungal drugs which helped the side effects on days 6,7,8. Frustrated (I have taken all these drugs at some time during the last 11 years). Tired. The thought of how much more I have to go through. Not knowing what the future holds. Or what the next treatment will hold. I really want and need to handle this with a good attitude ....
But, I'll tell you .. apart from my feelings, there's a little voice in my head reminding me that the Bible tells me that Christ has promised that He'll never leave me. That He will walk thru this with me. I am compelled to believe in Him even when I don't see or feel Him. That's hard. But I know He's God ... there is no other. I have tasted His goodness in the past, and am confident I will see it again. He has not abandoned me. I know He loves me. I'm just wobbly right now.
How about you? Are you wobbly?
"In all their distress, He too was distressed" ... Isaiah 63:9
P.S. We leave for Chicago for treatment #4 (out of 6) on Thursday, March 12. Chemo on Friday. Home on Saturday. I go to Cancer Treatment Ctrs of America for every appointment and treatment. I tried to set something up to get a treatment (or 2 or 3) here in Cleveland ... but it didn't work out. Well pooh.
What I've been meaning to tell you is that i am have a REALLY hard time with ANXIETY ... faith ... sadness.... and ANXIETY!!!!!
The words anxiety and sadness may not make any sense to you when I tell you that the tumor has shrunk again, and no longer has palpable definitive borders. And how can those words possibly make sense to you when I tell you that the side effects were indeed lessened on days 6,7,8 this time? (that's when they usually go thru the roof!)
It's just the constant-ness of this painful trial. The cumulative problems my body is having week after week. The fact that the 'systemic candidiasis' I have been trying to eradicate for over 11 years is the culprit of the extreme nature of my side effects. I am now on new anti-fungal drugs which helped the side effects on days 6,7,8. Frustrated (I have taken all these drugs at some time during the last 11 years). Tired. The thought of how much more I have to go through. Not knowing what the future holds. Or what the next treatment will hold. I really want and need to handle this with a good attitude ....
But, I'll tell you .. apart from my feelings, there's a little voice in my head reminding me that the Bible tells me that Christ has promised that He'll never leave me. That He will walk thru this with me. I am compelled to believe in Him even when I don't see or feel Him. That's hard. But I know He's God ... there is no other. I have tasted His goodness in the past, and am confident I will see it again. He has not abandoned me. I know He loves me. I'm just wobbly right now.
How about you? Are you wobbly?
"In all their distress, He too was distressed" ... Isaiah 63:9
P.S. We leave for Chicago for treatment #4 (out of 6) on Thursday, March 12. Chemo on Friday. Home on Saturday. I go to Cancer Treatment Ctrs of America for every appointment and treatment. I tried to set something up to get a treatment (or 2 or 3) here in Cleveland ... but it didn't work out. Well pooh.
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