February 14, 2009 From the Chair
Last chemo-welcome words. Has it really been six months since I started? The interruption of surgery stretched it out making it seem like forever. I'm not sure how I feel. I'm glad it's coming to an end and even happier that it has worked so effectively. I know I'm repeating myself but I'm so very grateful for these treatments. I think about the current health care proposals and what the changes might have meant for me. I worry about what it will mean for future patients.
Dr. Kato has granted me a reprieve from the Neulasta shot - the culprit guilty of more than just bone pain. There is also the possibility of heart damage. The high pulse and intense hot flashing are a few of the others. Anyway, the main reason for taking it was to keep my immune system up so I would make it to the next chemo and since this is my last I can forgo it. I just need to be extra cautious about crowds this week. I'm without protection.
I overhear patients share war stories, comparing exhaustion and nausea levels and I marvel that I've had none of it. I hear them discussing how long they've been battling their illness and here I'm expecting to finish up and walk away. One woman is asking each patient their story. The stories are horrible. I keep my nose in a book so she won't ask me. I feel guilty that my story has happy ending and then I think, but there are no guarantees.I've learned so much about life, about myself. I've especially learned of God's faithfulness in our trials. Amazing! Some of what I've learned:
My imagination greatly exceeds reality.
God is closest in the valleys.
His Peace is Vast.I cannot live without Hope.
My faith is deep and wide.
My church ministers Christ's love in word and deed.
My husband really loves me. He really loves taking care of me. He works tirelessly for me, for us. My love for him is deeper and more comfortable than ever.
My son's voice makes me smile. His prayer requests make me feel useful. There's a connection in our passion for Truth.
All prayer requests keep me useful.
My God-honoring daughter ministers soul comfort to me like no other. I know it's mutual. We are Mama Yama and Little Yama(thanks Josiah!) forever.
My mother loves me sacrificially. She is my mommy in my suffering. I feel at home in her presence.
My sister is a thoughtful gift-giver. She's upbeat, fun and loving. Our bond reaches from our childhood.
My brother is a precious, battle-tested encourager. We are united in our quest to know God better. We have a deep respect for one another.
My cousin is still my eternal sister. We are reunited in the love of our childhood. I cry tears of joy for her.
I have strengthened relationships with three of our step daughters - praise God they all trust in our Lord and we have shared prayers for each other.
My real estate team is a rock of loving support and loyalty.We are a family of believers bearing one another's burdens, trusting God in all things.
My family of friends, old and new is vast and so dear to me. Encouragers all. I'm shocked at their numbers and feel wealthy beyond measure. Many many are new or renewed.
There are a few special warriors who've done battle with me in the trenches. They humble and strengthen me. They've taught me the power of a praying army.
Many are suffering far worse than I. I will not complain.
Trials produce opportunities.This is engraved now in my soul.
My Blackberry makes a handy journal.I love to write. It crystallizes my thoughts and records my life lessons.
One month before I was diagnosed, I asked God to humble me and give me a heart of compassion. He has graciously, tenderly given me just that.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
February 10, 2009
The beauty that greeted me as I arose this morning took my breath away. Since moving to The Canyons we've been disappointed that whatever snowfall blanketed the rest of Prescott, bypassed our slightly warmer clime. But today I was delighted by this sight. The snow crystals capture the light of the rising sun and glisten. What a spectacular show. It has me singing and praising God for His Creation and for another day to enjoy it.
Shoyei and I met with our radiology oncologist last week and learned a little more about the next step. two weeks after my final chemo(which is 3 days hence, woohoo!), I will have a CAT scan. From the images produced Dr. Kuske will design a plan to pinpoint five radiation beams converging in such a manner as to avoid any damage to my heart and minimal exposure to my lung. It took no more than a minute with Dr. Kuske for us to decide he is the doctor we want. His credentials are impressive and he has just opened the first breast cancer specific oncology practice in the world(his words). It's called ABCs for Arizona Breast Cancer specialists.
From my writing journal: His presence speaks comfort. He is about 5'8", soft and pudgy and walks slightly pigeon toed. His blue eyes say "I care", his voice says "you can trust me". His manner is confident yet humble. Sandy hair, slightly long, curls at his neck. "I'm the guy who writes the textbooks," he says, matter-of-factly.
We've checked him out. He's received numerous awards. He is the doctor who designed the radiation seed method for breast cancer. It's less invasive and only takes a week of treatment but because the original size of my tumor was 5cm(large), I am not a candidate. I will receive 35 treatments. The drive is our issue but we've decided to deal with it for the privilege of being his patient. "Will my skin turn black?" Dr. Mosharaffa(plastic surgeon) mentioned this possibility which tells me he has seen this side affect. "You will end up with a Jamaican sunburn," he tells me. "I will bring you this close(holding up two fingers pinched together) to blistering and then stop." My mind flashes back to such a sunburn. I was lying on my back, my father's suntanning lamp aimed at my chest. I wanted a healthy tan for my senior prom dress. I whiled my time talking on the phone. My "tan" turned into a Jamaican sunburn with a telephone cord emblazoned across my chest. I can handle this, I think.
There's a lot ahead. I've never had a CAT scan and don't know what to expect as far as my claustrophobia. A cancer friend tells me I will receive a tattoo of little dots for the radiologist to aim at(is that a dreaded "dangling participle"?) to assure the beams are hitting the exact spot every time. Don't tattoos hurt? But, hey, sunburns and tattoos are done in the name of beauty every day, right? Someone else's idea of beauty, I muse.
Monday, February 9, 2009
February 5th, 2009 Hot flashing
Whoosh! A hot flash overtakes me and I'm awakened for the fourth time tonight. I pad my way to the bathroom in the dark, my bare feet relishing the cold tile. I luxuriate in this brief oasis a moment before diving back into cool sheets. I have a favorite card with a picture of a menopausal woman with a cup and saucer balanced on her head. The caption says, "Edith finds new and creative ways to use her hot flashes."
How do you describe a hot flash to a non-sufferer? There is a huge rush of adrenaline - the 'fight or flight' chemical our bodies use to equip us for action. Where's the action I ask myself. It puts our brains on high alert which in my case means I am fully alert and prepared in the middle of the night and broken out in a sweat for what? No worries, in a minute or two I will be shivering from cold. It's an E ticket experience without the ride.
My head hits the pillow and I hear the staccato beat of my pulse in my ears. Boom boom boom boom boom! My husband took my pulse earlier this evening. 109. "How long has it been this high," he asks? Since my last chemo I think. I tried to use our recumbent exercise bike but my pulse at 160 was so loud I stopped. Normal for me is 72.
The bone pain is pretty bad this time which is normal. It is most intense from the hips down. It pulsates pain from one joint to the next and back. Today my heels are throbbing. I just read numerous blogs on the subject and realize it could be a whole lot worse. Nothing really seems to help including Oxycodone. It's begun to fade so that's 3 days of discomfort - not bad.
God is using this time at home for me to rest and be still in Him.
Whoosh! A hot flash overtakes me and I'm awakened for the fourth time tonight. I pad my way to the bathroom in the dark, my bare feet relishing the cold tile. I luxuriate in this brief oasis a moment before diving back into cool sheets. I have a favorite card with a picture of a menopausal woman with a cup and saucer balanced on her head. The caption says, "Edith finds new and creative ways to use her hot flashes."
How do you describe a hot flash to a non-sufferer? There is a huge rush of adrenaline - the 'fight or flight' chemical our bodies use to equip us for action. Where's the action I ask myself. It puts our brains on high alert which in my case means I am fully alert and prepared in the middle of the night and broken out in a sweat for what? No worries, in a minute or two I will be shivering from cold. It's an E ticket experience without the ride.
My head hits the pillow and I hear the staccato beat of my pulse in my ears. Boom boom boom boom boom! My husband took my pulse earlier this evening. 109. "How long has it been this high," he asks? Since my last chemo I think. I tried to use our recumbent exercise bike but my pulse at 160 was so loud I stopped. Normal for me is 72.
The bone pain is pretty bad this time which is normal. It is most intense from the hips down. It pulsates pain from one joint to the next and back. Today my heels are throbbing. I just read numerous blogs on the subject and realize it could be a whole lot worse. Nothing really seems to help including Oxycodone. It's begun to fade so that's 3 days of discomfort - not bad.
God is using this time at home for me to rest and be still in Him.
Friday, February 6, 2009
February 6th, 2008 On Flashing, Sleeping and Bone Pain
Whoosh! A hot flash overtakes me and I'm awakened for the fourth time tonight. I pad my way to the bathroom in the dark, my bare feet relishing the cold tile. I luxuriate in this brief oasis a moment before diving back into cool sheets. I have a favorite card with a picture of a menopausal woman with a cup and saucer balanced on her head. The caption says, "Edith finds new and creative ways to use her hot flashes." How do you describe a hot flash to a non-sufferer? There is a huge rush of adrenaline - the 'fight or flight' chemical our bodies use to equip us for action. Where's the action I ask myself. It puts our brains on high alert which in my case means I am fully alert and prepared in the middle of the night and broken out in a sweat for what? No worries, in a minute or two I will be shivering from cold. It's an E ticket experience without the ride.
My head hits the pillow and I hear the staccato beat of my pulse in my ears. Boom boom boom boom boom! My husband took my pulse earlier this evening. 109. "How long has it been this high," he asks? Since my last chemo I think. I tried to use our recumbent exercise bike but my pulse at 160 was so loud I stopped. Normal for me is 72.
The bone pain is pretty bad this time which is normal. It is most intense from the hips down. It pulsates pain from one joint to the next and back. Today my heels are throbbing. I just read numerous blogs on the subject and realize it could be a whole lot worse. Nothing really seems to help including Oxycodone. It's begun to fade so that's 3 days of discomfort - not bad.
God is using this time at home for me to rest and be still in Him.
Whoosh! A hot flash overtakes me and I'm awakened for the fourth time tonight. I pad my way to the bathroom in the dark, my bare feet relishing the cold tile. I luxuriate in this brief oasis a moment before diving back into cool sheets. I have a favorite card with a picture of a menopausal woman with a cup and saucer balanced on her head. The caption says, "Edith finds new and creative ways to use her hot flashes." How do you describe a hot flash to a non-sufferer? There is a huge rush of adrenaline - the 'fight or flight' chemical our bodies use to equip us for action. Where's the action I ask myself. It puts our brains on high alert which in my case means I am fully alert and prepared in the middle of the night and broken out in a sweat for what? No worries, in a minute or two I will be shivering from cold. It's an E ticket experience without the ride.
My head hits the pillow and I hear the staccato beat of my pulse in my ears. Boom boom boom boom boom! My husband took my pulse earlier this evening. 109. "How long has it been this high," he asks? Since my last chemo I think. I tried to use our recumbent exercise bike but my pulse at 160 was so loud I stopped. Normal for me is 72.
The bone pain is pretty bad this time which is normal. It is most intense from the hips down. It pulsates pain from one joint to the next and back. Today my heels are throbbing. I just read numerous blogs on the subject and realize it could be a whole lot worse. Nothing really seems to help including Oxycodone. It's begun to fade so that's 3 days of discomfort - not bad.
God is using this time at home for me to rest and be still in Him.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
January 31st, 2009
This week's chemo seemed routine. It's hard to believe I only have one to go. At my previous session I asked my nurse if I would lose my hair which is a full inch long now and she said no. I was delighted. But she was wrong.
I tried to ignore the familiar sensation of soreness on my scalp but yesterday I couldn't deny the hair filling my hand as I run my fingers over my head. But alas, it is short enough that my lint roller picks it right off of my head!
My main side affect from the last chemo was bone pain. Whether from the Taxol or Neulasta, after my Thursday chemo, it hit me Sunday at noon and I moaned and groaned with leg pains from my hips to my heels and a sharp pain in my right chest wall. I was told to take Claritin for the pain and I guess it made the pain tolerable. It lasted about 3 days. I think - hey, you're taking poison, what did you expect? Miraculous, wonderful, cancer-killing poison. When my son was small, suffering from asthma, he boldly faced his medicine stating, "a man's gotta do, what a man's gotta do". He was seven. I don't know where he heard that but I think of it now with a smile.
Shoyei and I are now researching radiation, the next step. I read yesterday that it is not always advised if there has been a mastectomy and 3 or fewer lymph nodes involved. That would be me. The main negative to radiating the chest area is potential damage to the heart and lung. I'm grateful at least that my cancer was not in my left side nearer the heart. In fact, it was all the way on the right side of my right breast so that's good I think.Our dilemma is this: radiation is 5 days a week for 7 weeks. The doctor I've seen, Dr. Kuske, is in Scottsdale - a 4 hour round trip drive. I really like him and he's an acclaimed radiologist who's just opened a breast cancer specific radiology practice, the only one in Arizona. He's a renowned author on the subject and it was he who recommended my neoadjuvent(before surgery) chemotherapy to shrink the tumor. I have tremendous confidence in him. Our local radiologist has a terrible reputation so I can't go to him. There's a cancer center an hour away and they have a bus that I can pick up nearby which is free. The facility there is general radiology. We need to know if Dr. Kuske's treatment will be worth the time and expense of the drive so we are fortifying ourselves with questions for our visit with him next week.
I've decided, the worst part of chemo is the emotional weakness I experience during the first week. God seems to plant His people in my path for these times and yesterday it was my daughter who lifted me with encouragement. My hyper sensitivity seems to fade by the second week.
And I have a very definite brain fog. I keep panicking that I've forgotten to do something. Last week I stared at a market analysis I had done for a client but I couldn't remember going over it with him. Molly, my office manager, said yes, they were in here last week. When I attended my 15 year high school reunion, I came home wearing my name badge which was made from our yearbook photo and blurb. I had pinned it on without reading it. My husband read it as I stood talking to him and declared "Aha! Kathleen, otherwise known as forgetful!" I looked at it for myself, "I don't remember that!" Years later, I decided to do something about improving my memory so I went to our local library. I found a book in the card file(remember those) entitled "How to Improve Your Memory" but it was checked out so I put my name on the list. Months passed and I got a call from the librarian about "that book you ordered." "I don't remember ordering a book," I said. She started to giggle then laugh and it took a while for her to stop. Finally she collected herself and mirthfully said, "you requested a book 'How to Improve Your Memory' (still giggling) but apparently(laughing again) the guy who had it checked out forgot to return it!" I caught her contagious laugh and we howled together. In grade school my report card was always marked "Needs to Improve" in "Responsibility". I was forever forgetting my homework, my lunch, my coat. Living across the street saved me repeatedly as I would holler to my mother from the schoolyard fence. So....can I blame my current memory problems on chemo brain fog? Guess I'll never know. When I first read about chemo brain fog I was alarmed at a suggestion that a mother have her children wear name tags(no joke) and told my daughter about it. The next week she met me at the hospital wearing a tag "Carrie(Daughter)". She meant for me to laugh but I cried. I couldn't bear the thought of not recognizing the people I love. Thank God, it hasn't happened. Yet.
This week's chemo seemed routine. It's hard to believe I only have one to go. At my previous session I asked my nurse if I would lose my hair which is a full inch long now and she said no. I was delighted. But she was wrong.
I tried to ignore the familiar sensation of soreness on my scalp but yesterday I couldn't deny the hair filling my hand as I run my fingers over my head. But alas, it is short enough that my lint roller picks it right off of my head!
My main side affect from the last chemo was bone pain. Whether from the Taxol or Neulasta, after my Thursday chemo, it hit me Sunday at noon and I moaned and groaned with leg pains from my hips to my heels and a sharp pain in my right chest wall. I was told to take Claritin for the pain and I guess it made the pain tolerable. It lasted about 3 days. I think - hey, you're taking poison, what did you expect? Miraculous, wonderful, cancer-killing poison. When my son was small, suffering from asthma, he boldly faced his medicine stating, "a man's gotta do, what a man's gotta do". He was seven. I don't know where he heard that but I think of it now with a smile.
Shoyei and I are now researching radiation, the next step. I read yesterday that it is not always advised if there has been a mastectomy and 3 or fewer lymph nodes involved. That would be me. The main negative to radiating the chest area is potential damage to the heart and lung. I'm grateful at least that my cancer was not in my left side nearer the heart. In fact, it was all the way on the right side of my right breast so that's good I think.Our dilemma is this: radiation is 5 days a week for 7 weeks. The doctor I've seen, Dr. Kuske, is in Scottsdale - a 4 hour round trip drive. I really like him and he's an acclaimed radiologist who's just opened a breast cancer specific radiology practice, the only one in Arizona. He's a renowned author on the subject and it was he who recommended my neoadjuvent(before surgery) chemotherapy to shrink the tumor. I have tremendous confidence in him. Our local radiologist has a terrible reputation so I can't go to him. There's a cancer center an hour away and they have a bus that I can pick up nearby which is free. The facility there is general radiology. We need to know if Dr. Kuske's treatment will be worth the time and expense of the drive so we are fortifying ourselves with questions for our visit with him next week.
I've decided, the worst part of chemo is the emotional weakness I experience during the first week. God seems to plant His people in my path for these times and yesterday it was my daughter who lifted me with encouragement. My hyper sensitivity seems to fade by the second week.
And I have a very definite brain fog. I keep panicking that I've forgotten to do something. Last week I stared at a market analysis I had done for a client but I couldn't remember going over it with him. Molly, my office manager, said yes, they were in here last week. When I attended my 15 year high school reunion, I came home wearing my name badge which was made from our yearbook photo and blurb. I had pinned it on without reading it. My husband read it as I stood talking to him and declared "Aha! Kathleen, otherwise known as forgetful!" I looked at it for myself, "I don't remember that!" Years later, I decided to do something about improving my memory so I went to our local library. I found a book in the card file(remember those) entitled "How to Improve Your Memory" but it was checked out so I put my name on the list. Months passed and I got a call from the librarian about "that book you ordered." "I don't remember ordering a book," I said. She started to giggle then laugh and it took a while for her to stop. Finally she collected herself and mirthfully said, "you requested a book 'How to Improve Your Memory' (still giggling) but apparently(laughing again) the guy who had it checked out forgot to return it!" I caught her contagious laugh and we howled together. In grade school my report card was always marked "Needs to Improve" in "Responsibility". I was forever forgetting my homework, my lunch, my coat. Living across the street saved me repeatedly as I would holler to my mother from the schoolyard fence. So....can I blame my current memory problems on chemo brain fog? Guess I'll never know. When I first read about chemo brain fog I was alarmed at a suggestion that a mother have her children wear name tags(no joke) and told my daughter about it. The next week she met me at the hospital wearing a tag "Carrie(Daughter)". She meant for me to laugh but I cried. I couldn't bear the thought of not recognizing the people I love. Thank God, it hasn't happened. Yet.
January 17th, 2009
Today is my birthday! I awoke feeling great! First good night sleep I've had in a long time. No night sweats woke me up. I slept in one of my husbands cotton t shirts instead of my polyester nightgown. Today I think I'll go shopping for a cotton nightgown. I lay in bed taking stock: today is my birthday. I'm 58. I am a daughter of Yahweh. I had chemo two days ago and feel wonderful today. I arise, praising God. I grab a handful of pills. An antiacid for heartburn which was pretty bad yesterday because I forgot to take it before chemo, Claritin and Ibuprofen for the bone pain I'm told to expect today. It seems crazy to be feeling as good as I do. My husband, on the other hand came to bed at midnight but I realized he wasn't there a few hours later. He's asleep in his chair this morning so I quietly pull the door to the den shut.
I picked up my blackberry to check for messages and there is a very sweet email from a new friend. I thank God for her. She is someone I have admired from afar. Her demeanor exudes gentleness. She offers to bring me a jewelry kit. I don't know what a jewelry kits are but it sounds like fun. I really can't imagine staying home away from crowds for 6 weeks when I'm feeling like this. I'm getting a different more powerful shot to boost my immune system. It's called Neulasta. My insurance company wouldn't pay for it before at $5000 per injection. So I got 3 shots of Neupogen instead for $1500. Some arrangement doctor Kato has at his new office makes Neulasta more affordable. And for me it means I don't have to make the trips down on the alternating weeks to check my blood. They give it to me the day after chemo and I'm done for 2 weeks.
A few minutes after I arise my phone rings and its my son, Danny, calling to wish me Happy Birthday. I remember as a child judging how good a birthday was by the gifts I received. The "gifts" I desire have changed. Feeling rested and healthy is certainly a gift but phone calls from loved ones are my favorite. Shortly after I hang up with Danny, my sister Janet calls me. Danny said they just got heat yesterday in his new apartment. He lives with three other students. They've been using space heaters to save money but it's too cold for the pipes at 3 below zero in Virginia so they paid for heating oil. Janet is planning to take a hike today - the California is experiencing a heatwave in January. I remember awaking on my 11th birthday to snow in Palo Alto!
My mother is taking me to lunch today. How grateful I am to be close to her. Then we'll go shopping - I have a Christmas gift card I "need" to spend. I marvel that I feel like doing this. I feel very blessed indeed.
Today is my birthday! I awoke feeling great! First good night sleep I've had in a long time. No night sweats woke me up. I slept in one of my husbands cotton t shirts instead of my polyester nightgown. Today I think I'll go shopping for a cotton nightgown. I lay in bed taking stock: today is my birthday. I'm 58. I am a daughter of Yahweh. I had chemo two days ago and feel wonderful today. I arise, praising God. I grab a handful of pills. An antiacid for heartburn which was pretty bad yesterday because I forgot to take it before chemo, Claritin and Ibuprofen for the bone pain I'm told to expect today. It seems crazy to be feeling as good as I do. My husband, on the other hand came to bed at midnight but I realized he wasn't there a few hours later. He's asleep in his chair this morning so I quietly pull the door to the den shut.
I picked up my blackberry to check for messages and there is a very sweet email from a new friend. I thank God for her. She is someone I have admired from afar. Her demeanor exudes gentleness. She offers to bring me a jewelry kit. I don't know what a jewelry kits are but it sounds like fun. I really can't imagine staying home away from crowds for 6 weeks when I'm feeling like this. I'm getting a different more powerful shot to boost my immune system. It's called Neulasta. My insurance company wouldn't pay for it before at $5000 per injection. So I got 3 shots of Neupogen instead for $1500. Some arrangement doctor Kato has at his new office makes Neulasta more affordable. And for me it means I don't have to make the trips down on the alternating weeks to check my blood. They give it to me the day after chemo and I'm done for 2 weeks.
A few minutes after I arise my phone rings and its my son, Danny, calling to wish me Happy Birthday. I remember as a child judging how good a birthday was by the gifts I received. The "gifts" I desire have changed. Feeling rested and healthy is certainly a gift but phone calls from loved ones are my favorite. Shortly after I hang up with Danny, my sister Janet calls me. Danny said they just got heat yesterday in his new apartment. He lives with three other students. They've been using space heaters to save money but it's too cold for the pipes at 3 below zero in Virginia so they paid for heating oil. Janet is planning to take a hike today - the California is experiencing a heatwave in January. I remember awaking on my 11th birthday to snow in Palo Alto!
My mother is taking me to lunch today. How grateful I am to be close to her. Then we'll go shopping - I have a Christmas gift card I "need" to spend. I marvel that I feel like doing this. I feel very blessed indeed.
November 11, 2008,
I amble along at the pace of someone 87 instead of 57. My "walker" is my husband. I am stooped because standing up straight is painful causing the lower incision lines to stretch.
We are headed into the Cancer center to see my oncologist, Dr. Kato. We seem to live for these appointments to get the news of progress or next steps.
I stop to use the restroom but lack the strength to open the door so Shoyei gets it for me. Every movement is pathetically slow which is such an irritance for this multi-tasker.
The purpose of this visit is to determine whether or not I can afford to wait two months before resuming chemo. Shoyei carefully unwraps his handiwork. I watch Dr. Kato. He stands with his left arm crossing his body and his right hand over his mouth. He shakes his head and closes his eyes. Shoyei redresses me. "I'll be very honest," Dr. Kato begins. "In all my years (my guess is he's 50 something) "I've never seen anything like this." He acknowledges the obvious burns which Dr. Corn (the perpetrator of this crime) told Shoyei was "thin skin". Dr. Kato says that he absolutely will not administer chemo until this has healed. He also said "no wonder you're still experiencing so much pain, that's a terrible wound".
I asked him, "So Dr. Kato, do you feel that delaying my chemo in anyway compromises my treatment?" Absolutley not he says.
So I guess my worst case scenario in this process is it could take 4 to 8 months longer than I'd planned. Oh well, I am expecting my mastectomy to be fully healed in the 6 to 8 weeks.
I amble along at the pace of someone 87 instead of 57. My "walker" is my husband. I am stooped because standing up straight is painful causing the lower incision lines to stretch.
We are headed into the Cancer center to see my oncologist, Dr. Kato. We seem to live for these appointments to get the news of progress or next steps.
I stop to use the restroom but lack the strength to open the door so Shoyei gets it for me. Every movement is pathetically slow which is such an irritance for this multi-tasker.
The purpose of this visit is to determine whether or not I can afford to wait two months before resuming chemo. Shoyei carefully unwraps his handiwork. I watch Dr. Kato. He stands with his left arm crossing his body and his right hand over his mouth. He shakes his head and closes his eyes. Shoyei redresses me. "I'll be very honest," Dr. Kato begins. "In all my years (my guess is he's 50 something) "I've never seen anything like this." He acknowledges the obvious burns which Dr. Corn (the perpetrator of this crime) told Shoyei was "thin skin". Dr. Kato says that he absolutely will not administer chemo until this has healed. He also said "no wonder you're still experiencing so much pain, that's a terrible wound".
I asked him, "So Dr. Kato, do you feel that delaying my chemo in anyway compromises my treatment?" Absolutley not he says.
So I guess my worst case scenario in this process is it could take 4 to 8 months longer than I'd planned. Oh well, I am expecting my mastectomy to be fully healed in the 6 to 8 weeks.
December 21st 2008, Healing
Last week I had my mastectomy stitches removed. My remaining wound has shrunk in half. A large band-aid covers it freeing me from the ace bandage which I've worn since October 29th. With this new freedom comes the realization that the tightness around my chest is not from the bandage. I went on a breast cancer blog and "eaves dropped" on the conversations of dozens of women. This rubber band feeling, it seems, it permanent and I will get used to it hopefully. It clearly drives a lot of women crazy. I hadn't known to expect this. I feel as if I'm wearing something. Some described it as a too tight bra.I sought out exercises for stretching and began those.
But after weeks, I am able to sleep on my side which I know causes me to have a smile on my face falling asleep. Thank You Lord! It just takes an extra pillow for support but at least my husband doesn't have to listen to any more snoring.
Three ladies have contacted me with a breast cancer diagnosis for them self or loved one since I started this journey. Three other ladies have walked this path before me and have offered insight and encouragement. I'm glad to pray for them all, so sorry they have to go through this. The breast cancer blogs say, "welcome to the club you never wanted to join".
I will resume the remaining 3 sessions of chemotherapy in mid January. Not sure if that will be followed by radiation or another attempt with tissue expanders. The alternative is radiation first and reconstruction six months to a year later performed by using the lattisimus dorsi muscle from the back. I'm praying for the expander route if the radiologist deems it safe to wait. I am amazed by medicine and all they can do.
Looking back, I can see all I've come through so far. For me the hardest part was the pain and its requirement for narcotics. The narcotics made me depressed and mentally weak but I was so glad to have them. I also found out that Percoset stops hot flashes! A blessing in the thorn!
December 27th, 2008, Cancer Paranoia
I hit the "funny bone" of my knee on the edge of a chair. It was the usual funny bone incident, that wierd pain resonating throughout my leg until slowly dying out. After two days the resulting bruised feeling went away and I forgot about it. When it it came back a week later I was jumping to conclusions - bone cancer. I remember having trouble with this knee before because my Step Aerobics teacher told me to find an alternative exercise.
I'm wondering if my PET scan missed something. A friend told me her doctor doesn't trust the Prescott Valley PET scan which is where mine was done. So I'm wondering if its the machine or the radiologist who reads it he doesn't trust. Anyway I'm not really worried except about the fact I may be analayzing every normal ache and pain which have been increasing with the advancing years.Its an unfamiliar paranoia for someone who, other than breast cancer, is the picture of health. I'm hoping after a few clear reports the tension will ease.
I noticed a blogging headline on this topic a while back but didn't realize its pertinence until now. Its all part of the journey. How else to understand the whole cancer picture but to experience it?
The antibiotics I took for my tissue expander rejection caused an intestinal problem which was zapping my energy so now I'm taking antibiotics for the antibiotic reaction. My surgery wound is fully healed. At last I feel great - almost normal except for my knee. Now I'm ready to finish my chemo, 7 weeks if radiation. My radiologist nixed the idea of trying the expanders again before he gets his job done. What that means for me as far as reconstruction is concerned, is I will wait 6 to 12 months and then have reconstruction surgery using the latissimus dorsi muscles from my back. Whew! I get worn out thinking about all this. One day at a time.
Just to keep life interesting Shoyei has just been scheduled for surgery Jan 21st to have his gall bladder removed which is right between chemo session 6 and 7. It's outpatient surgery but it's sounds fairly invasive so I'm sure he won't be very comfortable for a while. Hopefull next year we can look back on this time of challenges with gratitude for good health! I'm so blessed to have both of my children with me for a week and my wonderful son-in-law here as his job permits. They are a fresh breath of air at a time like this! Life is good!
I hit the "funny bone" of my knee on the edge of a chair. It was the usual funny bone incident, that wierd pain resonating throughout my leg until slowly dying out. After two days the resulting bruised feeling went away and I forgot about it. When it it came back a week later I was jumping to conclusions - bone cancer. I remember having trouble with this knee before because my Step Aerobics teacher told me to find an alternative exercise.
I'm wondering if my PET scan missed something. A friend told me her doctor doesn't trust the Prescott Valley PET scan which is where mine was done. So I'm wondering if its the machine or the radiologist who reads it he doesn't trust. Anyway I'm not really worried except about the fact I may be analayzing every normal ache and pain which have been increasing with the advancing years.Its an unfamiliar paranoia for someone who, other than breast cancer, is the picture of health. I'm hoping after a few clear reports the tension will ease.
I noticed a blogging headline on this topic a while back but didn't realize its pertinence until now. Its all part of the journey. How else to understand the whole cancer picture but to experience it?
The antibiotics I took for my tissue expander rejection caused an intestinal problem which was zapping my energy so now I'm taking antibiotics for the antibiotic reaction. My surgery wound is fully healed. At last I feel great - almost normal except for my knee. Now I'm ready to finish my chemo, 7 weeks if radiation. My radiologist nixed the idea of trying the expanders again before he gets his job done. What that means for me as far as reconstruction is concerned, is I will wait 6 to 12 months and then have reconstruction surgery using the latissimus dorsi muscles from my back. Whew! I get worn out thinking about all this. One day at a time.
Just to keep life interesting Shoyei has just been scheduled for surgery Jan 21st to have his gall bladder removed which is right between chemo session 6 and 7. It's outpatient surgery but it's sounds fairly invasive so I'm sure he won't be very comfortable for a while. Hopefull next year we can look back on this time of challenges with gratitude for good health! I'm so blessed to have both of my children with me for a week and my wonderful son-in-law here as his job permits. They are a fresh breath of air at a time like this! Life is good!
December 15th 2008, Adjusting to Body Changes
I am not travelling uncharted waters nor am I Captainless. Many have been here before me. Yet, I feel like an old Spanish galleon floundering bottom heavy with my topside whittled away. And while my personal experience with ships on high seas is limited, something does not seems right. My maneuvering, try as I might, is lumbersome and awkward and I long for my pre-mangled body.
All this to say, to slide into bed, stretch one arm up under my pillow and pull my upper leg up for support has long been my preferred position for sleep. Oh how I took that simple luxury for granted. The removal of lymph nodes makes stretching difficult and I wonder if I'll ever have full use of my body again. Stretching is an unappreciated pleasure until you lose it and the older you get the better the chance it'll trigger a charlie horse. I'm glad these bodies are temporary!
I am not travelling uncharted waters nor am I Captainless. Many have been here before me. Yet, I feel like an old Spanish galleon floundering bottom heavy with my topside whittled away. And while my personal experience with ships on high seas is limited, something does not seems right. My maneuvering, try as I might, is lumbersome and awkward and I long for my pre-mangled body.
All this to say, to slide into bed, stretch one arm up under my pillow and pull my upper leg up for support has long been my preferred position for sleep. Oh how I took that simple luxury for granted. The removal of lymph nodes makes stretching difficult and I wonder if I'll ever have full use of my body again. Stretching is an unappreciated pleasure until you lose it and the older you get the better the chance it'll trigger a charlie horse. I'm glad these bodies are temporary!
December 4th 2008, Hot turkey
Phoenix for doctor day. We met with Dr. Kato(my oncologist who replaced Dr. Thakker when he quit). We received a letter from Dr. Kato's group informing us that Dr. Kato has given his notice and that I was being assigned to doctor number 3! I couldn't have written this script. Do you need an outline? However, it turns out I get to move with Dr. Kato to his new practice. He's taking 5 of their people with him including my chemo nurse! I guess this practice has chased off 3 of the younger doctors interested in the latest chemo movements over this past year. They're not into new ideas. Dr. Kato is waiting on my healing before he resumes my last 3 chemos.
On to Dr. Mosharrafa. He was so wonderful and apologetic and compassionate. He told me he felt devastated by what had happened to me. I got my drains out(and never have to have them again - and believe me that's a blessing). We headed to Phoenix with my intending to go cold turkey - no pain meds for the drain removal torture but Dr. Kato said why? This was no time to play "hero". Turns out the pill Nazi came prepared. I'm sure it helped but geez man it still hurt!Anyway, I was released from all my bandaging which with the 3 feet of tubing felt like what I imagine a corset might feel like. So glad to live beyond that era. We could see that Dr. M had closed up all but one small remaining wound which we will let heal now. Shoyei and I left feeling really good about him and so relieved to have another chapter behind us.
Our third stop was to visit Bonnie at "Tina's Treasures". If you know anyone going through this you must tell them to visit Bonnie. She's been through the whole ordeal and is loving, compassionate and funny! I left with some new (prosthetic) lingerie to help me feel a little girlier again.It was a good day.
Phoenix for doctor day. We met with Dr. Kato(my oncologist who replaced Dr. Thakker when he quit). We received a letter from Dr. Kato's group informing us that Dr. Kato has given his notice and that I was being assigned to doctor number 3! I couldn't have written this script. Do you need an outline? However, it turns out I get to move with Dr. Kato to his new practice. He's taking 5 of their people with him including my chemo nurse! I guess this practice has chased off 3 of the younger doctors interested in the latest chemo movements over this past year. They're not into new ideas. Dr. Kato is waiting on my healing before he resumes my last 3 chemos.
On to Dr. Mosharrafa. He was so wonderful and apologetic and compassionate. He told me he felt devastated by what had happened to me. I got my drains out(and never have to have them again - and believe me that's a blessing). We headed to Phoenix with my intending to go cold turkey - no pain meds for the drain removal torture but Dr. Kato said why? This was no time to play "hero". Turns out the pill Nazi came prepared. I'm sure it helped but geez man it still hurt!Anyway, I was released from all my bandaging which with the 3 feet of tubing felt like what I imagine a corset might feel like. So glad to live beyond that era. We could see that Dr. M had closed up all but one small remaining wound which we will let heal now. Shoyei and I left feeling really good about him and so relieved to have another chapter behind us.
Our third stop was to visit Bonnie at "Tina's Treasures". If you know anyone going through this you must tell them to visit Bonnie. She's been through the whole ordeal and is loving, compassionate and funny! I left with some new (prosthetic) lingerie to help me feel a little girlier again.It was a good day.
December 2nd 2008, Recovering Anew
Pain is an odd thing and different for everyone. It seems to be all about the nervous system. I am a lot more comfortable today even though I feel as if I’m starting over with both breasts assaulted, tight bandaging and drains. No bathing for three days. But the extreme pain of the right expander and the discomfort of the leaky drain are gone. I have numbness on the breast area but so far it has been a blessing. My doctor says feeling will return slowly. True? I have odd nerve feelings down my right underarm all the way to my wrist – the lymph node chain line I assume.
The expanders were never supposed to be filled to start with. Seeing the thinness of my skin my doctor felt it would prevent the expanders from pushing through by being filled enough to round the edges. In fact, he told me at my initial consultation that the chance of rejection from partially filled expanders was too risky and he didn’t subscribe to it. So imagine my surprise when I awoke to just that. In hindsight, I feel he should have chosen to close me up and plan on the alternative journey I am now on. Oh well, God has been busy working on me. I am not much of a sit still person so it has been a good time for me in that regard.
Pain is an odd thing and different for everyone. It seems to be all about the nervous system. I am a lot more comfortable today even though I feel as if I’m starting over with both breasts assaulted, tight bandaging and drains. No bathing for three days. But the extreme pain of the right expander and the discomfort of the leaky drain are gone. I have numbness on the breast area but so far it has been a blessing. My doctor says feeling will return slowly. True? I have odd nerve feelings down my right underarm all the way to my wrist – the lymph node chain line I assume.
The expanders were never supposed to be filled to start with. Seeing the thinness of my skin my doctor felt it would prevent the expanders from pushing through by being filled enough to round the edges. In fact, he told me at my initial consultation that the chance of rejection from partially filled expanders was too risky and he didn’t subscribe to it. So imagine my surprise when I awoke to just that. In hindsight, I feel he should have chosen to close me up and plan on the alternative journey I am now on. Oh well, God has been busy working on me. I am not much of a sit still person so it has been a good time for me in that regard.
December 1st 2008, Emergency Surgery
Another surgery complete. Today's 45 minute surgery ended up being 2 hours which had my husband a bit freaked out. Turns out my body was rejecting both tissue expanders. At least my pain was justified! And once again I have the pleasure of tubes and drains and the anticipation of their breath taking, literally, removal. Either my sense of humor is returning or I'm losing it, but this strikes me as funny. Ladies, did the shocking pain of childbirth stop you from baby #2? Why not? It's sort of fascinating.
Today's semi-emergency procedure was at St Joseph's Outpatient Surgery Center in Phoenix and it was first class - no complaints. My experience was an A+. I'm not really planning on a personal analysis of all local hospitals but I've experienced 4 now so feel free to contact me for my opinion.My sense of humor is gradually returning - gosh I've missed her.What I learned during this round? That even when I wanted to turn my back on God, He stuck to me like glue and didn't hold my weakness against me. I am humbled
Another surgery complete. Today's 45 minute surgery ended up being 2 hours which had my husband a bit freaked out. Turns out my body was rejecting both tissue expanders. At least my pain was justified! And once again I have the pleasure of tubes and drains and the anticipation of their breath taking, literally, removal. Either my sense of humor is returning or I'm losing it, but this strikes me as funny. Ladies, did the shocking pain of childbirth stop you from baby #2? Why not? It's sort of fascinating.
Today's semi-emergency procedure was at St Joseph's Outpatient Surgery Center in Phoenix and it was first class - no complaints. My experience was an A+. I'm not really planning on a personal analysis of all local hospitals but I've experienced 4 now so feel free to contact me for my opinion.My sense of humor is gradually returning - gosh I've missed her.What I learned during this round? That even when I wanted to turn my back on God, He stuck to me like glue and didn't hold my weakness against me. I am humbled
November 28th 2008, Rejecting Expander
To say one has not suffered enough sounds martyrish and to some foolish. But who has not faced some great challenge and later realized the value of experience in relating to new challenges.So, here I am. During this morning's dressing change, my husband was clearly alarmed and called the doctor to report he could see the expander. I was horrified. Monday I will go back into surgery to remove my right expander.
I have in the short span of a few hours cried, felt self-pity, been angry and blessedly feasted on words of Hope. It is one more stage to pass through. It will add months(3 I think) to my total treatment. Months to learn more and hopefully see God at work.
When I was first diagnosed with this cancer, I understood there was opportunity in the danger(Chinese for crisis). But here alone on the high seas of the storm it is often difficult to keep that perspective. At the end of each day though, I'm simply happy for another day even of trials. Another opportunity to tell you if you are receiving this email it is because I love you and am grateful for the chance to tell you so.
To say one has not suffered enough sounds martyrish and to some foolish. But who has not faced some great challenge and later realized the value of experience in relating to new challenges.So, here I am. During this morning's dressing change, my husband was clearly alarmed and called the doctor to report he could see the expander. I was horrified. Monday I will go back into surgery to remove my right expander.
I have in the short span of a few hours cried, felt self-pity, been angry and blessedly feasted on words of Hope. It is one more stage to pass through. It will add months(3 I think) to my total treatment. Months to learn more and hopefully see God at work.
When I was first diagnosed with this cancer, I understood there was opportunity in the danger(Chinese for crisis). But here alone on the high seas of the storm it is often difficult to keep that perspective. At the end of each day though, I'm simply happy for another day even of trials. Another opportunity to tell you if you are receiving this email it is because I love you and am grateful for the chance to tell you so.
November 26th 2008, Dr. Report
Saw the doctor and he drained 240 of the 300cc of saline from my right side where the expander was just about to bust through! Gross - it's like Alien(the movie)!I feel 1000% better!
Saw the doctor and he drained 240 of the 300cc of saline from my right side where the expander was just about to bust through! Gross - it's like Alien(the movie)!I feel 1000% better!
November 23rd 2008, Nitty Gritty
Writing an open journal has its drawbacks. My concern for the sensibilities of the reader have sometimes rendered me mute. There's a lot of gross stuff going on. You may choose to read no further or your curiosity may have you wondering. I will further confess, between the oxycodone(Percoset) and the Valium my thoughts tend to take strange and unexpected tangents which is fun for me but confusing for you. Sorry in advance but the requirement for pain management has far exceeded my expectations.
It really did seem like the worst thing I had left to contend with was the tube protruding from my right side about halfway between my armpit and my waist which had the nasty habit of leaking. When we headed down for last Tuesday's visit to the doctor it was with the anticipation of a child on Christmas morning. Something good was definitely happening today. I was to be "unplugged" (and left with mellower music?).Nothing could dissuade my enthusiasm.
I took a Percoset halfway down the two hour drive to Phoenix anticipating some discomfort. 30 minutes out, the pill Nazi hands me a second Percoset. "I already took one," I remind him but he says "just in case". He knows something, I think to myself. When the moment arrives, Dr. Mosharrafa tells me to take 3 deep breaths and then he pulls...and he pulls...and he pulls - the friction of 18 inches of plastic tubing rubbing against my raw wound. I'm left clinging to my husband, panting and in shock at what felt something like having a sword pulled out of one's side. But, like childbirth, its over and nearly forgotten. The left side is less shocking and soon. I'm free! It's an amazing feeling. I can shower!
When I tell Dr. Mosharrafa that Dr. Kato is fine with waiting on chemo until I'm healed, he seems very pleased. "Eight weeks," he says. "From surgery?" My husband asks. "From today," he answers. To heal or not to heal - that is the question of the day and tomorrow - etcetera etcetera(I'm hearing the King of Siam in my head). The party line is this: some women have thin skin which makes healing more difficult. It is meant to explain the numerous open wounds across my chest. The words "burn" and "cauterize" are no longer mentioned.
Dr. M explains that unlike our parent's(I'm probably old enough to be his) who believed in letting air dry the wound and form a scab, today's thought is to keep it moist and let it heal from the inside out. Eight more weeks of twice a day dressing changes, the task at which my husband's expertise is critically important. I ask Dr. Mosharrafa what chance he thinks I have of avoiding tissue expanders rejection. I've spoken with two friends who took a long time healing but finally did. "And that's exactly what I expect," he says. We walk out on a cloud.
Next we go to see Dr. Corn. She is mainly just curious since at this point I'm solely in the surgical care of Dr. Mosharrafa. She oohs and aahs about how great I look and how she's "seen much worse. This is nothing, you'll be fine!" I like her but I don't believe her. She would be more convincing on a cheer leading squad. I mean I believe I will heal but she makes me feel like she's selling it. "I skinned you good," she asserts proudly.
A friend of a friend has recommended another surgeon for a second opinion. The idea hangs in the air between us for a few days before we whittle away at the distance and agree we are not up to that battle at this stage.
We are so excited at the end of the "tubes and drains" chapter that we jump on the freeway and head home for a celebration dinner. However 30 miles from nowhere, Shoyei realizes we're out of gas(a first time experience for my 747 captain) so we call AAA and wait.
By the day's end, we're simply happy to get home.We settle into the routine of dressing changes. Shoyei performs his task with determined efficiency but his enthusiasm for the job has waned which I interpret to mean this is actually grossing him out. Or he is just exhausted. I sneak a peak and decide on the grossed-out theory. I think he is struggling to remember the girl he married with a full head of hair, eye lashes and eyebrows(mine have finally gone), smooth skin(he lovingly rubs lotions on my shoulders and back where I cannot reach and where a lizard scale has taken over), and this dessicated torso.
He reminds me of the occasion in Vietnam when he had to shove a man's intestines back in his belly and struggle to hold them there while they awaited medical aid. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do" - I smirk at the phrase, at the surprise I felt when my eight year old son stated it with such manly determination as he took his dose of asthma medicine. Shoyei is diligent as if it is up to him alone whether I avoid rejection.
I am having good days and bad days. One day I feel great, I exercise, eat well and get by on 1 1/2 Percosets. The next day I take 5 Percosets and a Valium, have no appetite and feel as if someone somewhere is working me over as a voodoo doll. Shoyei and I alternately analyze the possible reasons for my day-to-day condition. Did I lift something? Was the ace bandage too tight and therefore moving the expanders? Perhaps the fluid that is still leaking is in some sort of Ninja battle to keep the absorption "in house".
Anyway, I remain in a good frame of mind with a planned trip to Tucson for Thanksgiving with my daughter and her husband and the arrival of my son for an extended Christmas visit.
Day-by-day, Day by dayO Dear Lord these things I pray:
To see thee more clearly,Love thee more dearly,
To follow thee more nearly, Day by day by day by day.
Writing an open journal has its drawbacks. My concern for the sensibilities of the reader have sometimes rendered me mute. There's a lot of gross stuff going on. You may choose to read no further or your curiosity may have you wondering. I will further confess, between the oxycodone(Percoset) and the Valium my thoughts tend to take strange and unexpected tangents which is fun for me but confusing for you. Sorry in advance but the requirement for pain management has far exceeded my expectations.
It really did seem like the worst thing I had left to contend with was the tube protruding from my right side about halfway between my armpit and my waist which had the nasty habit of leaking. When we headed down for last Tuesday's visit to the doctor it was with the anticipation of a child on Christmas morning. Something good was definitely happening today. I was to be "unplugged" (and left with mellower music?).Nothing could dissuade my enthusiasm.
I took a Percoset halfway down the two hour drive to Phoenix anticipating some discomfort. 30 minutes out, the pill Nazi hands me a second Percoset. "I already took one," I remind him but he says "just in case". He knows something, I think to myself. When the moment arrives, Dr. Mosharrafa tells me to take 3 deep breaths and then he pulls...and he pulls...and he pulls - the friction of 18 inches of plastic tubing rubbing against my raw wound. I'm left clinging to my husband, panting and in shock at what felt something like having a sword pulled out of one's side. But, like childbirth, its over and nearly forgotten. The left side is less shocking and soon. I'm free! It's an amazing feeling. I can shower!
When I tell Dr. Mosharrafa that Dr. Kato is fine with waiting on chemo until I'm healed, he seems very pleased. "Eight weeks," he says. "From surgery?" My husband asks. "From today," he answers. To heal or not to heal - that is the question of the day and tomorrow - etcetera etcetera(I'm hearing the King of Siam in my head). The party line is this: some women have thin skin which makes healing more difficult. It is meant to explain the numerous open wounds across my chest. The words "burn" and "cauterize" are no longer mentioned.
Dr. M explains that unlike our parent's(I'm probably old enough to be his) who believed in letting air dry the wound and form a scab, today's thought is to keep it moist and let it heal from the inside out. Eight more weeks of twice a day dressing changes, the task at which my husband's expertise is critically important. I ask Dr. Mosharrafa what chance he thinks I have of avoiding tissue expanders rejection. I've spoken with two friends who took a long time healing but finally did. "And that's exactly what I expect," he says. We walk out on a cloud.
Next we go to see Dr. Corn. She is mainly just curious since at this point I'm solely in the surgical care of Dr. Mosharrafa. She oohs and aahs about how great I look and how she's "seen much worse. This is nothing, you'll be fine!" I like her but I don't believe her. She would be more convincing on a cheer leading squad. I mean I believe I will heal but she makes me feel like she's selling it. "I skinned you good," she asserts proudly.
A friend of a friend has recommended another surgeon for a second opinion. The idea hangs in the air between us for a few days before we whittle away at the distance and agree we are not up to that battle at this stage.
We are so excited at the end of the "tubes and drains" chapter that we jump on the freeway and head home for a celebration dinner. However 30 miles from nowhere, Shoyei realizes we're out of gas(a first time experience for my 747 captain) so we call AAA and wait.
By the day's end, we're simply happy to get home.We settle into the routine of dressing changes. Shoyei performs his task with determined efficiency but his enthusiasm for the job has waned which I interpret to mean this is actually grossing him out. Or he is just exhausted. I sneak a peak and decide on the grossed-out theory. I think he is struggling to remember the girl he married with a full head of hair, eye lashes and eyebrows(mine have finally gone), smooth skin(he lovingly rubs lotions on my shoulders and back where I cannot reach and where a lizard scale has taken over), and this dessicated torso.
He reminds me of the occasion in Vietnam when he had to shove a man's intestines back in his belly and struggle to hold them there while they awaited medical aid. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do" - I smirk at the phrase, at the surprise I felt when my eight year old son stated it with such manly determination as he took his dose of asthma medicine. Shoyei is diligent as if it is up to him alone whether I avoid rejection.
I am having good days and bad days. One day I feel great, I exercise, eat well and get by on 1 1/2 Percosets. The next day I take 5 Percosets and a Valium, have no appetite and feel as if someone somewhere is working me over as a voodoo doll. Shoyei and I alternately analyze the possible reasons for my day-to-day condition. Did I lift something? Was the ace bandage too tight and therefore moving the expanders? Perhaps the fluid that is still leaking is in some sort of Ninja battle to keep the absorption "in house".
Anyway, I remain in a good frame of mind with a planned trip to Tucson for Thanksgiving with my daughter and her husband and the arrival of my son for an extended Christmas visit.
Day-by-day, Day by dayO Dear Lord these things I pray:
To see thee more clearly,Love thee more dearly,
To follow thee more nearly, Day by day by day by day.
November 13th 2008, Progress Report
Up until know my cancer treatment has been pretty easy. At least nothing as bad as I first feared. I even felt guilty for not suffering enough. On Tuesday my husband and I drove down for my two week check up expecting to have the drains removed. So I was terribly disappointed when Dr. Mosharrafa said he wanted to wait one more week. But worse news followed. He said he was concerned about the possibility that my skin was not healing. It's paper thin because Dr. Corn aggressively got all the tissue she could. The hope is that the remaining skin will get enough circulation to thrive. He says we'll just continue the twice a day dressing changes for the next 6 to 8 weeks! This does not compute. I hate this part and can't imagine 6 to 8 weeks more of it.
Could be worse I tell myself, thinking of a friend who is presently in a burn center. He says he will not do anything to compromise my treatment which is to say its up to my oncologist, Dr. Kato, who we'll see tomorrow. The possibility is that my body is rejecting the expanders. Last night I experienced two hours of violent shivering. I had a fever of 100. This morning it is 100.6. So we are awaiting a call back from the doctor.
Either way, I feel at peace. I have the most incredible support group - prayer warriors par excellence starting with my daughter who sends such wonderful encouragement. The blessings from this cancer are beyond my expectations.I confess this has not been all mountaintop experience. I have shaken my fist at God but it seems the moment I do, he sends a saint to lift me up! And yes, I would still do this again if it were up to me.
Up until know my cancer treatment has been pretty easy. At least nothing as bad as I first feared. I even felt guilty for not suffering enough. On Tuesday my husband and I drove down for my two week check up expecting to have the drains removed. So I was terribly disappointed when Dr. Mosharrafa said he wanted to wait one more week. But worse news followed. He said he was concerned about the possibility that my skin was not healing. It's paper thin because Dr. Corn aggressively got all the tissue she could. The hope is that the remaining skin will get enough circulation to thrive. He says we'll just continue the twice a day dressing changes for the next 6 to 8 weeks! This does not compute. I hate this part and can't imagine 6 to 8 weeks more of it.
Could be worse I tell myself, thinking of a friend who is presently in a burn center. He says he will not do anything to compromise my treatment which is to say its up to my oncologist, Dr. Kato, who we'll see tomorrow. The possibility is that my body is rejecting the expanders. Last night I experienced two hours of violent shivering. I had a fever of 100. This morning it is 100.6. So we are awaiting a call back from the doctor.
Either way, I feel at peace. I have the most incredible support group - prayer warriors par excellence starting with my daughter who sends such wonderful encouragement. The blessings from this cancer are beyond my expectations.I confess this has not been all mountaintop experience. I have shaken my fist at God but it seems the moment I do, he sends a saint to lift me up! And yes, I would still do this again if it were up to me.
November 8th 2008, Recovering
The first week few days home from mastectomy surgery aren't bad. Medication controls the pain. Nine well placed pillows prop me and I am, surprisingly, able to sleep on my back. Two of these pillows are little flannel hearts that fit comfortably under my armpits to prevent chafing. God bless the hands that sewed them. I am wearing an ingenious garment. It is a camesole of the softest cotton knit with thoughtfully constructed interior pockets to hold drain bulbs, tubes and prosthetic breasts(which are empty). The bulbs attach to tubes running from each under arm acting as suctions siphoning off body fluid until the lymphatic system kicks in and takes over.
Twice a day my husband removes each bulb and squeezes the murky contents into a measuring cup to record the amount collected. He manages this task with great attention to detail and a deft touch for my comfort. It's the way he approaches everything. One day as he was absorbed in these ministrations my mind flashed back 35 years ago- I was a flight attendant and my husband was the captain of our DC10. Upon descent into to Boston's Logan Airport we lost an engine. The older flight attendants assured us we had nothing to worry about, Captain Yamauchi was at the helm. His reputation as a skilled airman dispelled all fear and he gently set our big old bird down, passengers none the wiser. These are the same hands that care for me now I am thinking.
We saw my plastic surgeon three days ago. He removed the bandages and we got our first look at my massacred chest. From my vantage point, I can't see too much which I'm sure is a blessing. I prefer to investigate later in private. For now, looking down I can see the outline of the tissue expanders creating little malformed mounds. I check out my husband's expression. He wavers between curiosity and horror. I love him for trying to control this transfer of thoughts to expression but his heart is clearly broken for me. We are entering a whole new kind of intimacy.
Dr. Mosharrafa points to a place on my left, heretofore healthy "breast", and explains,"this is a burn where Dr. Corn was cauterizing" outlining 4 square inches and two 1/4" holes of skin damage. Its said matter-of-factly and I'm too stunned to respond. Considering the rest of the devastation, it seems to makes little difference now. I'm not up to assessing this new information and neither is my husband. We are two weary warriors and this information is more than we can deal with right now.There is a lot more pain the second week because twice a day Shoyei has to change my dressings. I realize now that I'd never thought this far out. It's a nasty job and seems too much to ask. But this too he does with love.
Did I mention he was a child prodigy - he played piano with the San Francisco symphony, he played for the king and queen of Norway. He has a feather touch and my skin is numb anyway so I can't feel the wiping or stinging. Unconvinced, he continues his gentle ways. What I feel a is a deep aching pain that has me sucking in air and concentrating on my diaphragm breathing. This new regimen has me doubling my pain pill intake but Shoyei's stingy with my meds. For one thing he's afraid I'll become addicted. Yesterday afternoon he tried to get me to hold out between doses. "On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you describe your pain?". Like the hospital nurses would ask. I tell him I am a 4(10 being childbirth). I know perfectly well he doesn't want me to suffer. He plunks a heavy naturopathic tome on my lap and points to the paragraphs he wants me to read. It states that narcotics(i.e. my Percoset pain pills) may actually contribute to the spreading of cancer. Two of my doctors have already poo pooed this. I feel caught in the battle between traditional, heavily documented medicine and the naturopathic approach which sounds good but what about pain? Right now I vote for the route of pain relief.
I've become hesitant to call Shoyei for a pill only to have him look at me like a junkie. My prescription says 'take 1 to 2 every 4 hours as needed for pain'. I take 3 to 4 a day but my nurse Ratchet would like to see that down to 1 or 2. So I guess it's obvious I'm growing grouchier by the minute. Finally we agree to call the doctor who tells us both if I hurt, I get a pain pill. But they also agree to alternate my medication between Percoset and Valium, the latter is a muscle relaxant. Perhaps muscle cramps are a partly responsible for my pain. I'm happy to report, 24 hours later, it's already making a difference.
There has been a wonderful highlight to this week. We have been blessed with meal after meal provided by some women from my church. Flowers and gifts and cards have helped me through some of the toughest days. I keep reminding myself how very blessed I am.
"O Joy that seekest me through pain,I cannot close my heart to Thee,I trace the rainbow through the rain,And feel the promise is not in vain,That morn shall tearless be."-George Matheson
The first week few days home from mastectomy surgery aren't bad. Medication controls the pain. Nine well placed pillows prop me and I am, surprisingly, able to sleep on my back. Two of these pillows are little flannel hearts that fit comfortably under my armpits to prevent chafing. God bless the hands that sewed them. I am wearing an ingenious garment. It is a camesole of the softest cotton knit with thoughtfully constructed interior pockets to hold drain bulbs, tubes and prosthetic breasts(which are empty). The bulbs attach to tubes running from each under arm acting as suctions siphoning off body fluid until the lymphatic system kicks in and takes over.
Twice a day my husband removes each bulb and squeezes the murky contents into a measuring cup to record the amount collected. He manages this task with great attention to detail and a deft touch for my comfort. It's the way he approaches everything. One day as he was absorbed in these ministrations my mind flashed back 35 years ago- I was a flight attendant and my husband was the captain of our DC10. Upon descent into to Boston's Logan Airport we lost an engine. The older flight attendants assured us we had nothing to worry about, Captain Yamauchi was at the helm. His reputation as a skilled airman dispelled all fear and he gently set our big old bird down, passengers none the wiser. These are the same hands that care for me now I am thinking.
We saw my plastic surgeon three days ago. He removed the bandages and we got our first look at my massacred chest. From my vantage point, I can't see too much which I'm sure is a blessing. I prefer to investigate later in private. For now, looking down I can see the outline of the tissue expanders creating little malformed mounds. I check out my husband's expression. He wavers between curiosity and horror. I love him for trying to control this transfer of thoughts to expression but his heart is clearly broken for me. We are entering a whole new kind of intimacy.
Dr. Mosharrafa points to a place on my left, heretofore healthy "breast", and explains,"this is a burn where Dr. Corn was cauterizing" outlining 4 square inches and two 1/4" holes of skin damage. Its said matter-of-factly and I'm too stunned to respond. Considering the rest of the devastation, it seems to makes little difference now. I'm not up to assessing this new information and neither is my husband. We are two weary warriors and this information is more than we can deal with right now.There is a lot more pain the second week because twice a day Shoyei has to change my dressings. I realize now that I'd never thought this far out. It's a nasty job and seems too much to ask. But this too he does with love.
Did I mention he was a child prodigy - he played piano with the San Francisco symphony, he played for the king and queen of Norway. He has a feather touch and my skin is numb anyway so I can't feel the wiping or stinging. Unconvinced, he continues his gentle ways. What I feel a is a deep aching pain that has me sucking in air and concentrating on my diaphragm breathing. This new regimen has me doubling my pain pill intake but Shoyei's stingy with my meds. For one thing he's afraid I'll become addicted. Yesterday afternoon he tried to get me to hold out between doses. "On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you describe your pain?". Like the hospital nurses would ask. I tell him I am a 4(10 being childbirth). I know perfectly well he doesn't want me to suffer. He plunks a heavy naturopathic tome on my lap and points to the paragraphs he wants me to read. It states that narcotics(i.e. my Percoset pain pills) may actually contribute to the spreading of cancer. Two of my doctors have already poo pooed this. I feel caught in the battle between traditional, heavily documented medicine and the naturopathic approach which sounds good but what about pain? Right now I vote for the route of pain relief.
I've become hesitant to call Shoyei for a pill only to have him look at me like a junkie. My prescription says 'take 1 to 2 every 4 hours as needed for pain'. I take 3 to 4 a day but my nurse Ratchet would like to see that down to 1 or 2. So I guess it's obvious I'm growing grouchier by the minute. Finally we agree to call the doctor who tells us both if I hurt, I get a pain pill. But they also agree to alternate my medication between Percoset and Valium, the latter is a muscle relaxant. Perhaps muscle cramps are a partly responsible for my pain. I'm happy to report, 24 hours later, it's already making a difference.
There has been a wonderful highlight to this week. We have been blessed with meal after meal provided by some women from my church. Flowers and gifts and cards have helped me through some of the toughest days. I keep reminding myself how very blessed I am.
"O Joy that seekest me through pain,I cannot close my heart to Thee,I trace the rainbow through the rain,And feel the promise is not in vain,That morn shall tearless be."-George Matheson
November 3rd 2008, Pathology Report
Dr. Corn just called with the pathology report. Cancer was found in the one sentinel node only. The other four they tested were clear which was thrilling news. She doesn't have to go back in to remove nodes, she removed the sentinel and all surrounding tissue. I'm so happy although I was prepared to hear worse news and not be too upset by it. There's a woman who runs the Iditarod, a dog sledding race in Alaska, who's had a double mastectomy and 22 nodes removed. I figured I could deal with it either way but its nice to get good news.
Dr. Corn just called with the pathology report. Cancer was found in the one sentinel node only. The other four they tested were clear which was thrilling news. She doesn't have to go back in to remove nodes, she removed the sentinel and all surrounding tissue. I'm so happy although I was prepared to hear worse news and not be too upset by it. There's a woman who runs the Iditarod, a dog sledding race in Alaska, who's had a double mastectomy and 22 nodes removed. I figured I could deal with it either way but its nice to get good news.
October 30th 2008, Surgery, Hospital stuff and Home
THURSDAY. Home again. One sleepless night in the hospital is enough. My husband is beyond exhaustion. His task is difficult. He feels so responsible for my care and I suppose he is.
TUESDAY(two days ago): Today we met with Dr. Mosharrafa, my young blue-eyed plastic surgeon in Phoenix. He specializes in mastectomy reconstruction and is gifted with the necessary manner to deal with women faced with this option. I'm so grateful I've found him. He draws lines across my chest as I stand naked before him, my husband looking on with keen interest in the details. Shoyei asks the questions of a detached medical student and Dr. Mosharrafa enthusiastically responds. I feel like a class project. The lines are for my oncology surgeon, Dr. Corn, to follow when performing my double mastectomy tomorrow. It's like laying pattern pieces out on the fabric of my skin. A few bold pen strokes and he has marked out a plan for the new me. Like a visit to my tailor.
Reconstruct - to build up, as from remains, an image of the original. Perfect.
When Dr. Mosharaffa inserts the expanders and sews me up, I think to myself, I will be well along in the process of rebuilding Katrina(Spanish for Kathleen) after hurricane Cancer. I smirk at my private little joke while the boys are discussing the procedure as if I'm not there.
Shoyei inquires as to his chances of being in the OR to watch. I raise an eyebrow knowing he can't stand the sight of blood. Fortunately, for all, its not an option.
Afterwards, Shoyei and I meet a dear friend who happens to be in town. We wander in Old Towne Scottsdale and find a great little restaurant where we dine on elegant salads and catch up in the intimate manner of old friends - a delightful diversion which takes my mind off tomorrow.
WEDNESDAY: I've slept well but Shoyei has been up since 3AM. We get ready in silence and then we are off to Thompson's Peak Hospital, a new hospital with state-of-the-art equipment and patient comforts. I was there for my port implant and have almost looked forward to another visit.
I'm quickly ushered into radiology where the male attendants are disappointingly cold and impersonal despite the fact they refer to me as "dear". I overhear enough to know they are afraid of a chewing out by the radiologist. "Where are your mammograms?" I'm queried in a you-forgot-your-homework-again tone."My mammograms? What? No one asked for them. Why? Nothing showed up on my mammograms," I explain. "The radiologist is going to want to see those mammograms" I'm told."The ones that show nothing?" I ask. "He's here," they say softly. I hear him ask to see the mammogram and their whispered response.
He marches to my side where I lie in undignified repose. "No mammograms." He says. I'm not sure if its a question or a statement but I explain their uselessness. Nonplussed, he seguays to the subject at hand, leaving me wondering at the twittering techies."I'm going to inject four shots into your right breast. We don't anesthetize for this because that would still mean four stings," he says. After the first injection I tell him I didn't feel a thing. "I'll try harder next time," he says. I appreciate his effort at humor in this humorless place.
The injections are radioactive isotopes. This is a "sentinel node" procededure to locate which lymph node guards the path to the whole chain of nodes under my right arm. The table I'm on glides feet first into position for pictures. Turns out I have two sentries. No one says if this is a good thing or bad. The radiologist runs a geiger counter over the nodes and adds two more marks to my tattooed chest. I later learn Dr. Corn is annoyed by this over stepping of her power. Apparently politics abound even in hospitals.
I'm taken upstairs to Pre-Op by wheelchair, my husband taking over the sentry role. What is the deal with hospitals not letting you walk on your own volition when you're able and then making you amble about when you don't fell up to it? My assigned nurse here is a gem. She's exudes warmth and competence and I find myself relaxing. I'm outfitted in my hospital gown, socks, an IV is started and Shoyei and I settle in for a two hour wait. Dr. Corn, the OR nurse and anesthesiologist stop by one at a time to check in with me. I'm amazed at the peace I feel. When noone is looking. I take one last peek down my gown at the part of me about to be cut away. "Farewell," I whisper wistfully. I glance at my husband. He looks afraid and I pray for him. I'm so sad he's refused all offers of company for his waiting but he's adamant about preferring to go it alone. The anesthesiologist is ready to take me. "Now's the time for the hug and kiss" he tells Shoyei. I'm surprised to feel my face crumple as we cling to each other. It's the last I remember until I awake in recovery.
Recovery is the hard part. They are understaffed today, they tell me. I'm in pain and unable to position myself for relief in the bed. The nurses are overwhelmed and impatient. They are in the ninth and tenth hours of their twelve hour shifts. Its unrealistic of me to expect the best of them. I'm given a pain killer which quiets me down. I'm kept waiting and waiting because there are no rooms ready (because they are short handed there too?) which for these nurses means double the patient load. I can hear another patient coughing and the distress is is causing her. They are comforting her. Suck it up I tell myself but the drugs render me weak and selfish. I seek the comfort of my Lord and He is there but I am concerned about my husband and anxious to see my daughter. It has been hard for Shoyei to let me out of his sight. My protector. I hear a recovery room nurse taking a call. She is explaining to my husband why I am still here where he cannot be with me.
Finally, I'm wheeled to my room where my husband, daughter and son-in-law are waiting. I am so happy to see them so why am I still so irritable. It took me so long to get into a semi-comfortable position my room nurse wants to make me "more comfortable". I just want her to leave me alone. Actually I want her to leave completely. Shoyei is all the nurse I need. I'm "under the influence" and behaving badly. I hear my daughter apologizing for me. "Did you know my mother before?" she asks, "because, this is not how she normally acts." "I'm embarrassing you," I say. Shoyei makes a stab at a joke and I tell him to drop the jokes for a while. They're annoying me. Later I'm mortified, tearful and ashamed apologize to everyone.
Shoyei shares the doctors post-op reports. They are both giddy with excitement at how well I've done. It's good to know I behaved during surgery. Dr. Mosharaffa has inflated my tissue expanders halfway already which had not been his intention "because her muscle is so strong". Must be all that protein I've been eating. It also explains why I feel as if I have a rubberband around my chest. The expanders are under muscle.
The new nurse, Shelli, seems on guard, as if she's been warned. But I start off by telling her how out of control I feel. "It's normal," she says, "the anesthetic does that". She's beginning her shift and appears to be conserving her energy. She gets me settled. I eat a little but fail to keep it down. My husband holds the bucket. For better or for worse, he's pulling his end.I feel myself again, my alter ego has thankfully gone missing. The pain is under control and I'm sleepy. The nurse helps my husband convert the couch into a bed, gives him sheets, blanket and a pillow and he collapses for about 3 hours. I smile with gratitude for his soft snoring.
I try to doze off but there are pressure "socks" alternately massaging one leg then the other every 10 seconds to prevent blood clots. My "vitals" are monitored throughout the long sleepless night. At 3AM I need to use the bathroom and call for Shoyei's help. He calls for the nurse to help us with the tubes. She comes to help, instructing me to put my weight on the bed rail, which collapses sending pain up my torso and her tripping past my husband. No harm done, we all laugh. Through the night she forgets to restart my pressure socks, put on my oxygen tube and re plug my IV drip after I use the bathroom. She's annoyed at first when I call each time to ask about these things then acknowledges "we" forgot to reconnect you. She's lovable but I'd like to go find that pre-op nurse.
I finally sleep from 5:15 to 6:15 when an attendant attempts to slap a blood pressure cuff on my arm after loudly announcing "sorry to wake you". He missed the big sign on my board saying no blood pressure readings from either arm. "Oh yeah," he remembers, "I saw that on your chart". I ask for a pain pill. "I'll let Kelly know,"he says. "Who's Kelly?" I ask.
My husband is getting breakfast I'm told. I'm hungry and wonder when breakfast is served. I turn on the flatscreen TV and discover the coolest thing about this hospital. I hit menu and order oatmeal, brown sugar, milk, berries and an english muffin. Dr. Corn pops in, loosens my bandage(I finally take a full breath) and signs my release. My delicious hot breakfast arrives and I am thinking about staying one more night. Until Kelly shows up. He's not mean but right up until I'm released no shadow of a smile attempts to brighten his face. I am so anxious to get home.
HOME. Shoyei gets me settled experimenting with the right pillows to make me as comfortable as possible. I absolutely cannot imagine a gentler, more conscientious nurse than Shoyei is being. He is grouchy but mighty short on sleep. His is a volunteer position. I take in the beautiful view out my window and the two vases of flowers each of my children have given me. My daughter and her husband are here to help. My mother is here. My family has called and friends email their love. I feel cherished and very grateful.
THURSDAY. Home again. One sleepless night in the hospital is enough. My husband is beyond exhaustion. His task is difficult. He feels so responsible for my care and I suppose he is.
TUESDAY(two days ago): Today we met with Dr. Mosharrafa, my young blue-eyed plastic surgeon in Phoenix. He specializes in mastectomy reconstruction and is gifted with the necessary manner to deal with women faced with this option. I'm so grateful I've found him. He draws lines across my chest as I stand naked before him, my husband looking on with keen interest in the details. Shoyei asks the questions of a detached medical student and Dr. Mosharrafa enthusiastically responds. I feel like a class project. The lines are for my oncology surgeon, Dr. Corn, to follow when performing my double mastectomy tomorrow. It's like laying pattern pieces out on the fabric of my skin. A few bold pen strokes and he has marked out a plan for the new me. Like a visit to my tailor.
Reconstruct - to build up, as from remains, an image of the original. Perfect.
When Dr. Mosharaffa inserts the expanders and sews me up, I think to myself, I will be well along in the process of rebuilding Katrina(Spanish for Kathleen) after hurricane Cancer. I smirk at my private little joke while the boys are discussing the procedure as if I'm not there.
Shoyei inquires as to his chances of being in the OR to watch. I raise an eyebrow knowing he can't stand the sight of blood. Fortunately, for all, its not an option.
Afterwards, Shoyei and I meet a dear friend who happens to be in town. We wander in Old Towne Scottsdale and find a great little restaurant where we dine on elegant salads and catch up in the intimate manner of old friends - a delightful diversion which takes my mind off tomorrow.
WEDNESDAY: I've slept well but Shoyei has been up since 3AM. We get ready in silence and then we are off to Thompson's Peak Hospital, a new hospital with state-of-the-art equipment and patient comforts. I was there for my port implant and have almost looked forward to another visit.
I'm quickly ushered into radiology where the male attendants are disappointingly cold and impersonal despite the fact they refer to me as "dear". I overhear enough to know they are afraid of a chewing out by the radiologist. "Where are your mammograms?" I'm queried in a you-forgot-your-homework-again tone."My mammograms? What? No one asked for them. Why? Nothing showed up on my mammograms," I explain. "The radiologist is going to want to see those mammograms" I'm told."The ones that show nothing?" I ask. "He's here," they say softly. I hear him ask to see the mammogram and their whispered response.
He marches to my side where I lie in undignified repose. "No mammograms." He says. I'm not sure if its a question or a statement but I explain their uselessness. Nonplussed, he seguays to the subject at hand, leaving me wondering at the twittering techies."I'm going to inject four shots into your right breast. We don't anesthetize for this because that would still mean four stings," he says. After the first injection I tell him I didn't feel a thing. "I'll try harder next time," he says. I appreciate his effort at humor in this humorless place.
The injections are radioactive isotopes. This is a "sentinel node" procededure to locate which lymph node guards the path to the whole chain of nodes under my right arm. The table I'm on glides feet first into position for pictures. Turns out I have two sentries. No one says if this is a good thing or bad. The radiologist runs a geiger counter over the nodes and adds two more marks to my tattooed chest. I later learn Dr. Corn is annoyed by this over stepping of her power. Apparently politics abound even in hospitals.
I'm taken upstairs to Pre-Op by wheelchair, my husband taking over the sentry role. What is the deal with hospitals not letting you walk on your own volition when you're able and then making you amble about when you don't fell up to it? My assigned nurse here is a gem. She's exudes warmth and competence and I find myself relaxing. I'm outfitted in my hospital gown, socks, an IV is started and Shoyei and I settle in for a two hour wait. Dr. Corn, the OR nurse and anesthesiologist stop by one at a time to check in with me. I'm amazed at the peace I feel. When noone is looking. I take one last peek down my gown at the part of me about to be cut away. "Farewell," I whisper wistfully. I glance at my husband. He looks afraid and I pray for him. I'm so sad he's refused all offers of company for his waiting but he's adamant about preferring to go it alone. The anesthesiologist is ready to take me. "Now's the time for the hug and kiss" he tells Shoyei. I'm surprised to feel my face crumple as we cling to each other. It's the last I remember until I awake in recovery.
Recovery is the hard part. They are understaffed today, they tell me. I'm in pain and unable to position myself for relief in the bed. The nurses are overwhelmed and impatient. They are in the ninth and tenth hours of their twelve hour shifts. Its unrealistic of me to expect the best of them. I'm given a pain killer which quiets me down. I'm kept waiting and waiting because there are no rooms ready (because they are short handed there too?) which for these nurses means double the patient load. I can hear another patient coughing and the distress is is causing her. They are comforting her. Suck it up I tell myself but the drugs render me weak and selfish. I seek the comfort of my Lord and He is there but I am concerned about my husband and anxious to see my daughter. It has been hard for Shoyei to let me out of his sight. My protector. I hear a recovery room nurse taking a call. She is explaining to my husband why I am still here where he cannot be with me.
Finally, I'm wheeled to my room where my husband, daughter and son-in-law are waiting. I am so happy to see them so why am I still so irritable. It took me so long to get into a semi-comfortable position my room nurse wants to make me "more comfortable". I just want her to leave me alone. Actually I want her to leave completely. Shoyei is all the nurse I need. I'm "under the influence" and behaving badly. I hear my daughter apologizing for me. "Did you know my mother before?" she asks, "because, this is not how she normally acts." "I'm embarrassing you," I say. Shoyei makes a stab at a joke and I tell him to drop the jokes for a while. They're annoying me. Later I'm mortified, tearful and ashamed apologize to everyone.
Shoyei shares the doctors post-op reports. They are both giddy with excitement at how well I've done. It's good to know I behaved during surgery. Dr. Mosharaffa has inflated my tissue expanders halfway already which had not been his intention "because her muscle is so strong". Must be all that protein I've been eating. It also explains why I feel as if I have a rubberband around my chest. The expanders are under muscle.
The new nurse, Shelli, seems on guard, as if she's been warned. But I start off by telling her how out of control I feel. "It's normal," she says, "the anesthetic does that". She's beginning her shift and appears to be conserving her energy. She gets me settled. I eat a little but fail to keep it down. My husband holds the bucket. For better or for worse, he's pulling his end.I feel myself again, my alter ego has thankfully gone missing. The pain is under control and I'm sleepy. The nurse helps my husband convert the couch into a bed, gives him sheets, blanket and a pillow and he collapses for about 3 hours. I smile with gratitude for his soft snoring.
I try to doze off but there are pressure "socks" alternately massaging one leg then the other every 10 seconds to prevent blood clots. My "vitals" are monitored throughout the long sleepless night. At 3AM I need to use the bathroom and call for Shoyei's help. He calls for the nurse to help us with the tubes. She comes to help, instructing me to put my weight on the bed rail, which collapses sending pain up my torso and her tripping past my husband. No harm done, we all laugh. Through the night she forgets to restart my pressure socks, put on my oxygen tube and re plug my IV drip after I use the bathroom. She's annoyed at first when I call each time to ask about these things then acknowledges "we" forgot to reconnect you. She's lovable but I'd like to go find that pre-op nurse.
I finally sleep from 5:15 to 6:15 when an attendant attempts to slap a blood pressure cuff on my arm after loudly announcing "sorry to wake you". He missed the big sign on my board saying no blood pressure readings from either arm. "Oh yeah," he remembers, "I saw that on your chart". I ask for a pain pill. "I'll let Kelly know,"he says. "Who's Kelly?" I ask.
My husband is getting breakfast I'm told. I'm hungry and wonder when breakfast is served. I turn on the flatscreen TV and discover the coolest thing about this hospital. I hit menu and order oatmeal, brown sugar, milk, berries and an english muffin. Dr. Corn pops in, loosens my bandage(I finally take a full breath) and signs my release. My delicious hot breakfast arrives and I am thinking about staying one more night. Until Kelly shows up. He's not mean but right up until I'm released no shadow of a smile attempts to brighten his face. I am so anxious to get home.
HOME. Shoyei gets me settled experimenting with the right pillows to make me as comfortable as possible. I absolutely cannot imagine a gentler, more conscientious nurse than Shoyei is being. He is grouchy but mighty short on sleep. His is a volunteer position. I take in the beautiful view out my window and the two vases of flowers each of my children have given me. My daughter and her husband are here to help. My mother is here. My family has called and friends email their love. I feel cherished and very grateful.
October 29th 2008, Day of Surgery
I awake after a good night's sleep and begin praising the Lord for my peace and joy. I am fully prepared, buoyed on the prayer of the saints - thank you! Only the grace of God can account for the incredible excitement I feel! Thank You Lord for the gift of wisdom and skillfulness you've imparted to my doctors. Thank You for this incredible opportunity for healing through medicine and prayer!On Monday I woke upon seeking God and not sensing His presence. Where are You? I need You now. I went to His Word. "I am not alone for my Father is with me" John 18:32. There You are! I picked up my Blackberry and a friend encouraged me from His Word, "Blessed shall you be when you come in, and blessed shall you be when you go out... The Lord will command the blessing on you in your storehouses and into all to which you set your hand... and the Lord will grant you plenty of goods, in the fruit of your body...." I went to work and friends there prayed for me. There You are! I opened my mail from an elder. Sweet and tender words tell me You are pleased with me. There You are! A woman from my new church whom I've never met called to arrange delivering a meal. There You are! Another calls in the evening to pray with me. I've not met her yet either. Family an friends call and send me morsels of Your Word. I smile. Lord, thank You. I saw you everywhere! This is the most wonderful journey. You are my trail guide and my eyes are upon You.I praise Your Holy Name - my sweet Lord.
I awake after a good night's sleep and begin praising the Lord for my peace and joy. I am fully prepared, buoyed on the prayer of the saints - thank you! Only the grace of God can account for the incredible excitement I feel! Thank You Lord for the gift of wisdom and skillfulness you've imparted to my doctors. Thank You for this incredible opportunity for healing through medicine and prayer!On Monday I woke upon seeking God and not sensing His presence. Where are You? I need You now. I went to His Word. "I am not alone for my Father is with me" John 18:32. There You are! I picked up my Blackberry and a friend encouraged me from His Word, "Blessed shall you be when you come in, and blessed shall you be when you go out... The Lord will command the blessing on you in your storehouses and into all to which you set your hand... and the Lord will grant you plenty of goods, in the fruit of your body...." I went to work and friends there prayed for me. There You are! I opened my mail from an elder. Sweet and tender words tell me You are pleased with me. There You are! A woman from my new church whom I've never met called to arrange delivering a meal. There You are! Another calls in the evening to pray with me. I've not met her yet either. Family an friends call and send me morsels of Your Word. I smile. Lord, thank You. I saw you everywhere! This is the most wonderful journey. You are my trail guide and my eyes are upon You.I praise Your Holy Name - my sweet Lord.
October 10th 2008, In the Chair Again
I am awaiting my first of the second half of chemo treatmets - the "easy half". My blood count is good so I can proceed. My hands have healed just in time. I confess, I was hoping for a break but I know this is best for me. The anti-nausea drip is going. It always precedes the chemo. I read that it takes hundreds of California yew trees to treat one patient with Taxol - the derivative of its bark. I feel very guilty and very ungreen.
I've been told within the first few minutes I may feel flushed or have severe back pain or shortness of breath. The nurse has just switched out the last bag for one with Benedryl(antihistamine) and Tagamet(antiacid). Seems they're preparing me for all possibilities. I'm apprehensive this time. Please Lord still this heart. I know You are with me.I search out bible verses on my Blackberry as they start the real thing(they all look like water to me). A verse I've used as a bookmark in the novel I'm reading slips out. I realize I wrote this out for such a time as this:
Isaiah 43:13 says "For I am the Lord your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear: I will help you."Isaiah 43:2-3a -"When you pass through waters, I will be with you, and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Saviour."I read these and then I fall asleep.
Two hours and NO REACTIONS later, I awake. I want to weep with God's swift response to my cry and your prayers for me. He is near indeed.I feel the need to say I write to encourage you with the real-ness of our God. I don't want this to be about me. You all have your own trials and I hope some of what I share will make a differnce for you
I am awaiting my first of the second half of chemo treatmets - the "easy half". My blood count is good so I can proceed. My hands have healed just in time. I confess, I was hoping for a break but I know this is best for me. The anti-nausea drip is going. It always precedes the chemo. I read that it takes hundreds of California yew trees to treat one patient with Taxol - the derivative of its bark. I feel very guilty and very ungreen.
I've been told within the first few minutes I may feel flushed or have severe back pain or shortness of breath. The nurse has just switched out the last bag for one with Benedryl(antihistamine) and Tagamet(antiacid). Seems they're preparing me for all possibilities. I'm apprehensive this time. Please Lord still this heart. I know You are with me.I search out bible verses on my Blackberry as they start the real thing(they all look like water to me). A verse I've used as a bookmark in the novel I'm reading slips out. I realize I wrote this out for such a time as this:
Isaiah 43:13 says "For I am the Lord your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear: I will help you."Isaiah 43:2-3a -"When you pass through waters, I will be with you, and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Saviour."I read these and then I fall asleep.
Two hours and NO REACTIONS later, I awake. I want to weep with God's swift response to my cry and your prayers for me. He is near indeed.I feel the need to say I write to encourage you with the real-ness of our God. I don't want this to be about me. You all have your own trials and I hope some of what I share will make a differnce for you
October 9th 2008, Marilyn, the girls and me
When my younger brother was very small he pointed at a framed photo hanging in my father's home office and declared "Mommy"! Only it wasn't our mother. It was a nude Marilyn Monroe in all her well endowed glory. It hung there for many years unapologetically setting the bar for my sister and I and I suppose my brother.
That it seems wholly inappropriate in hindsight to display such a photo with all the respectability the title "pin-up girl" could offer before the eyes of young children is an understatement. The subtlety with which that photo embedded our forming views of what standard was acceptable to attract the affections of the opposite sex was very effective. To be fair, my father was not alone. Post World War II movies often depicted the scantily clad pin-up girls as a sailor's reminder of what he was fighting for. My role was cast. I only had to grow into it.
I was twelve when my mother purchased my first "training" bra and though it was unclear to me what was being trained, my girlfriends and I faithfully practiced a bust developing exercise to the chant: "We must, we must, we must improve our bust. 'Tis better, 'tis better, 'tis better for the sweater." Some girls resorted to stuffing their bras with socks but I resisted this trend after observing with horror a sock escaping its restraint and poking its way out of my friend's blouse. I would let nature take its course and throw in a few extra chants for good measure.
My posture improved dramatically over the next few years as I thrust my chest out in an effort to draw attention and admiration for my developing form. And I was not without success. Cat whistles confirmed I was growing into the young women my father could be proud of. To be fair, I don't believe this was ever my father's thought but it was definitely the unintentional effect.
It was too late for me by the time "Twiggy" reached cover girl status. The popular "skinny" model didn't fool me. I knew what boys liked so it came as no surprise when Twiggy was replaced by the likes of Raquel Welch, whose poster now adorned my brother's room with my father's snickering approval. Try as they might, the feminists had failed to stuff Marilyn back into Pandora's Box. That her life ended in misery from all the wrong attention was unsurprising. If the bra burning 70’s were supposed to make some statement of liberation, I was lost on me.
At the age of 18, my first breast lump appeared and I was hospitalized at Stanford, a teaching hospital, for a biopsy. Imagine my horror when a group of gawking med students came into my room to "observe my condition". With attention I hadn't bargained for my breasts were now the source of clinical curiosity. I escaped the experience intact with only slightly bruised dignity.
Breasts took on a new purpose with children. New to me that is. That I was equipped to nurture my babies providing their sole sustenance was a marvel to me. It was both humbling and empowering to be their source of survival. The days I held my children to my breast are the most precious of memories.
I never achieved "Marilyn" standards for which I am not unhappy. At this later stage of life the fascination is lost on me. I tried to present a different standard for my children although the battle is largely cultural. It always was I guess but I can attest to the role a father plays with sons and especially daughters in setting beauty standards. My mother recited "pretty is as pretty does" throughout my childhood but my father’s open admiration of Marilyn's unwittingly spoke a thousand words.
Now I face their removal, the "girls" are going away. The big scary word ‘Mastectomy’ that once struck horror in my soul is now an imminent fact on my horizon. I find myself grateful they are not the major part of my identity they once seemed, that this is taking place now instead of twenty or thirty years ago and that I didn’t miss the baby bonding pleasure. But most of all, I am grateful to have a husband who bravely faces this with me as it will be his loss also. They will be replaced by perky imposters; I've permitted myself this vanity. It will be my effort to feel normal again and to one day put this all behind me.
When my younger brother was very small he pointed at a framed photo hanging in my father's home office and declared "Mommy"! Only it wasn't our mother. It was a nude Marilyn Monroe in all her well endowed glory. It hung there for many years unapologetically setting the bar for my sister and I and I suppose my brother.
That it seems wholly inappropriate in hindsight to display such a photo with all the respectability the title "pin-up girl" could offer before the eyes of young children is an understatement. The subtlety with which that photo embedded our forming views of what standard was acceptable to attract the affections of the opposite sex was very effective. To be fair, my father was not alone. Post World War II movies often depicted the scantily clad pin-up girls as a sailor's reminder of what he was fighting for. My role was cast. I only had to grow into it.
I was twelve when my mother purchased my first "training" bra and though it was unclear to me what was being trained, my girlfriends and I faithfully practiced a bust developing exercise to the chant: "We must, we must, we must improve our bust. 'Tis better, 'tis better, 'tis better for the sweater." Some girls resorted to stuffing their bras with socks but I resisted this trend after observing with horror a sock escaping its restraint and poking its way out of my friend's blouse. I would let nature take its course and throw in a few extra chants for good measure.
My posture improved dramatically over the next few years as I thrust my chest out in an effort to draw attention and admiration for my developing form. And I was not without success. Cat whistles confirmed I was growing into the young women my father could be proud of. To be fair, I don't believe this was ever my father's thought but it was definitely the unintentional effect.
It was too late for me by the time "Twiggy" reached cover girl status. The popular "skinny" model didn't fool me. I knew what boys liked so it came as no surprise when Twiggy was replaced by the likes of Raquel Welch, whose poster now adorned my brother's room with my father's snickering approval. Try as they might, the feminists had failed to stuff Marilyn back into Pandora's Box. That her life ended in misery from all the wrong attention was unsurprising. If the bra burning 70’s were supposed to make some statement of liberation, I was lost on me.
At the age of 18, my first breast lump appeared and I was hospitalized at Stanford, a teaching hospital, for a biopsy. Imagine my horror when a group of gawking med students came into my room to "observe my condition". With attention I hadn't bargained for my breasts were now the source of clinical curiosity. I escaped the experience intact with only slightly bruised dignity.
Breasts took on a new purpose with children. New to me that is. That I was equipped to nurture my babies providing their sole sustenance was a marvel to me. It was both humbling and empowering to be their source of survival. The days I held my children to my breast are the most precious of memories.
I never achieved "Marilyn" standards for which I am not unhappy. At this later stage of life the fascination is lost on me. I tried to present a different standard for my children although the battle is largely cultural. It always was I guess but I can attest to the role a father plays with sons and especially daughters in setting beauty standards. My mother recited "pretty is as pretty does" throughout my childhood but my father’s open admiration of Marilyn's unwittingly spoke a thousand words.
Now I face their removal, the "girls" are going away. The big scary word ‘Mastectomy’ that once struck horror in my soul is now an imminent fact on my horizon. I find myself grateful they are not the major part of my identity they once seemed, that this is taking place now instead of twenty or thirty years ago and that I didn’t miss the baby bonding pleasure. But most of all, I am grateful to have a husband who bravely faces this with me as it will be his loss also. They will be replaced by perky imposters; I've permitted myself this vanity. It will be my effort to feel normal again and to one day put this all behind me.
October 7th 2008, Random thoughts
If you saw the movie The Perfect Storm, you'll remember how many conditions were met to cause one moment in time where a terrible and powerful storm gathered over the North Atlantic. Everything was in the timing.
I truly believe God has healed me through the hands of some precious saints, though only time will tell. Truthfully that's what makes it a bit frustrating to have to go forward with all the remaining treatment. But I have believed for some time it might be necessary to endure the full program in order to effectively minister to others who go through this. So I will run the good race for my Lord.
I've been wondering if my tenacious clinging to life is an indication of weak faith. Why do we fight so hard to postpone our entry to heaven? It seems somehow strange. But God created me this way. Ecclesiastes 3:11 says He "set eternity" in our hearts. We have a "forever" outlook but are unable to see that transition wall, so to speak, where we cross over from our earthly lives to our heavenly ones. It is good to think about our moment in time on earth.
When I was awaiting the diagnosis of my cancer - does she or doesn't she - I picked up a book titled "One Month to Live"(sounds like a soap opera). I asked myself, "What would I do if I knew I only had one month to live?". I found it hard to answer unless you actually have been given such news. And once I heard the word "cure" I lost the clarity of possibilities. It's pretty hard to focus on living well and dying well at the same time.
Shortly before this cancer adventure began, a lot of changes took place in my life which looking back, I realize now, were preparing me for this time. It was a difficult and painful time, but I saw God's hand burning away the dross of my life. I didn't understand at first - the importance of letting go of my plans. But He knew, for such a time as this, I would hold up better without the baggage. So I opened my hands and let go. I gave Him all of me. That was in April. Two months before my big news. Perfect timing for my perfect storm.As I said - random thoughts.
If you saw the movie The Perfect Storm, you'll remember how many conditions were met to cause one moment in time where a terrible and powerful storm gathered over the North Atlantic. Everything was in the timing.
I truly believe God has healed me through the hands of some precious saints, though only time will tell. Truthfully that's what makes it a bit frustrating to have to go forward with all the remaining treatment. But I have believed for some time it might be necessary to endure the full program in order to effectively minister to others who go through this. So I will run the good race for my Lord.
I've been wondering if my tenacious clinging to life is an indication of weak faith. Why do we fight so hard to postpone our entry to heaven? It seems somehow strange. But God created me this way. Ecclesiastes 3:11 says He "set eternity" in our hearts. We have a "forever" outlook but are unable to see that transition wall, so to speak, where we cross over from our earthly lives to our heavenly ones. It is good to think about our moment in time on earth.
When I was awaiting the diagnosis of my cancer - does she or doesn't she - I picked up a book titled "One Month to Live"(sounds like a soap opera). I asked myself, "What would I do if I knew I only had one month to live?". I found it hard to answer unless you actually have been given such news. And once I heard the word "cure" I lost the clarity of possibilities. It's pretty hard to focus on living well and dying well at the same time.
Shortly before this cancer adventure began, a lot of changes took place in my life which looking back, I realize now, were preparing me for this time. It was a difficult and painful time, but I saw God's hand burning away the dross of my life. I didn't understand at first - the importance of letting go of my plans. But He knew, for such a time as this, I would hold up better without the baggage. So I opened my hands and let go. I gave Him all of me. That was in April. Two months before my big news. Perfect timing for my perfect storm.As I said - random thoughts.
June 23rd , 2008 Crisis
In the counseling training manual I am studying for my work at the Crisis Pregnancy Center, there is a depiction of two characters making up the word for "crisis" in Chinese. The first represents "danger" and the second "opportunity", literally translated "Opportunity Riding On A Dangerous Wind."
Presently there are two crises facing me, one more threatening than the other, both beyond my control. Mulling them over, I came across a devotional discussing the bible passage in Matthew 14 where Peter steps out of his boat responding to Jesus' command to "come". Rather than reaching for Jesus’ hand, he looks at the wind and begins to sink. "You will not prevail by measuring the waves or grow strong by gauging the wind". (Streams in the Desert)
I can see I have been assessing the dangers rather than seeing the opportunities they present. And I am realizing that the only way to seize an opportunity in one hand is to have Jesus holding my other hand. As my pastor reminded me, "Through God we will do valiantly, and it is He who shall tread down our adversaries." Psalm 108:13
In the counseling training manual I am studying for my work at the Crisis Pregnancy Center, there is a depiction of two characters making up the word for "crisis" in Chinese. The first represents "danger" and the second "opportunity", literally translated "Opportunity Riding On A Dangerous Wind."
Presently there are two crises facing me, one more threatening than the other, both beyond my control. Mulling them over, I came across a devotional discussing the bible passage in Matthew 14 where Peter steps out of his boat responding to Jesus' command to "come". Rather than reaching for Jesus’ hand, he looks at the wind and begins to sink. "You will not prevail by measuring the waves or grow strong by gauging the wind". (Streams in the Desert)
I can see I have been assessing the dangers rather than seeing the opportunities they present. And I am realizing that the only way to seize an opportunity in one hand is to have Jesus holding my other hand. As my pastor reminded me, "Through God we will do valiantly, and it is He who shall tread down our adversaries." Psalm 108:13
September 25th 2008, Thoughts on 4th day of Chemo
Did I mention my aversion to boredom? Well, these doctors keep things changing. I asked Dr. Kato, since he didn't plan my therapy, did he agree with it. He said he did believe in neoadjuvent therapy(chemo before surgery) but he would have preferred a three week schedule rather than a two week schedule to give my body a better chance to recover between. So I feel especially blessed that I have done so well.
And, he said, since it appears my lymph nodes have shrunk already, he'd like for me to go ahad and have my surgery. So three weeks from today(I'm now receiving what I pray will be my last AC cocktail - the last of the "bad ones") Iwill have my mastectomy and then three weeks after that, resume the remaining four treatments as a "clean-up". Makes sense. I like his plan. But it threw me.
When I was 18, my annual tip to the doctor revealed a lump. I remember it was Monday. The doctor scheduled to put me in the hospital Tuesday night to operate Wednesday morning. I still remember thinking I wasn't old enough to schedule that appointment without my parents.
40 years ago SOP called for putting me to sleep, taking a biopsy, sending it to the lab while still under anesthesia, and if it was positive, to perform a radical mastectomy on the spot. That Wednesday morning, when I awoke from surgery, I reached for my heavily bandaged breast. a nurse rushed over, grabbed my hand and smiled. "You're all in one piece," she said. Ah sweet reprieve.
Not to be repeated, Shoyei and I have just had back-to-back visits with my cancer surgeon and plastic surgeon. I am further encouraged. My surgeon is encouraged. She can't feel a thing! The chemo has done its job and there is the possibility the lymph nodes will be clear. She will take about 5 of the 50+ nodes to test. 3 or less with cancer could mean no radiation. The reconstruction will begin immediately.
So now I await a date for the big "M". And though I don't need someone to arrange for my surgery, I still feel unqualified to authorize this plan though I've had 3 months to get used to the idea, I suffer from Scarlett O'Hara syndrome. I don't want to think about it today. "I'll think about it tomorrow."
One more month to wrap my head around the reality of double mastectomies. I remind myself there is so much to be grateful for. This surgery can save my life. I'm 57 this time, not 18. I think of young women who've not yet had or raised their children or the many for whom no options remain.I am grateful for the chance to live and serve and this sacrifice of flesh a small price. So okay now. I'm ready. More or less(no pun intended).
October 3rd 2008, A New Plan
I was delighted after my 4th chemo to feel so good. I felt "normal". Until the 5th day. On the 5th day the palms of my hands became sensitive and by yesterday(day 8) they felt like they were on fire and hyper sensitive. Everything I did caused searing pain.
I was anxious to see Dr. Kato this morning. He answered lots of questions. He gave me some cream for my hands which has already helped. He said this needs to be cleared up before I start my new Taxol treatments. I've finished the drug that caused this problem so it should be cleared up by then. I keep reminding myself this is small potatoes but this one got me down. He also told me the "sugar feeds cancer" hype is a myth. So I'm going to cave into my ice cream craving.
I'm cranky today. I allow myself this. Now for the big question which preceded his good and bad answer. "So, Dr. Kato, Dr. Corn says if she can't see any cancer when she does my surgery and three or less lymph nodes show cancer, she can't see any reason for radiation. Do you agree?" He hesitates before answering. I think he's measuring his thoughts before speaking, not wanting to show disrespect for Dr. Corn's comments but I see it in the shadow that crosses his face. "What you have is curable," he says. "We've reduced your cancer with the chemo. You'll have surgery and then we'll complete your chemo as a cleanup. The chemo has treated your cancer locally but it's also moving throughout your body preventing it from metasticizing anywhere else. The radiation is local and will eliminate any remaining microscopic localized cancer. Then your done and have little concern about it ever returning. Let's do everything we can to end your cancer experience once and for all."
So the bad news is I don't get to skip radiation but the good news is I can expect to be cured. So why am I crying? So many emotions.
Last night I kicked the covers off in a hotflash. A few moments later I awoke shivering but my hands were on fire. I reached down to pull up the comforter which set me tailspinning into shafts of pain radiating from both hands. I felt my husband's hand lovingly squeeze the achilles tendon of my left foot through the covers. I looked up but no one was there. My husband was sound asleep facing away from me. "Lord?" I silently asked and knew He was with me.
I remember reading Don Piper's '90 Minutes in Heaven'. He was trapped in the wreckage of his car and later thanked a man for holding his hand while he waited to be extracted. The man told him he hadn't, it hadn't even been possible. Don knew then who'd held his hand and I know who visited me last night. I am humbled.
I'm anemic so Dr. Kato gave me a shot of Procrit - another miracle drug. Did I tell you? Did you know that the chemo drugs are derivatives of natural plants, mushrooms and trees? Taxol is made from the bark of the California Yew tree. Good of God to provide even this necessary poison.
My surgery is scheduled for October 29th so I have a few weeks to prepare mentally, feast on the Word for fortification. If my writing seems sort of random - blame it on brain fog. I do.
I was delighted after my 4th chemo to feel so good. I felt "normal". Until the 5th day. On the 5th day the palms of my hands became sensitive and by yesterday(day 8) they felt like they were on fire and hyper sensitive. Everything I did caused searing pain.
I was anxious to see Dr. Kato this morning. He answered lots of questions. He gave me some cream for my hands which has already helped. He said this needs to be cleared up before I start my new Taxol treatments. I've finished the drug that caused this problem so it should be cleared up by then. I keep reminding myself this is small potatoes but this one got me down. He also told me the "sugar feeds cancer" hype is a myth. So I'm going to cave into my ice cream craving.
I'm cranky today. I allow myself this. Now for the big question which preceded his good and bad answer. "So, Dr. Kato, Dr. Corn says if she can't see any cancer when she does my surgery and three or less lymph nodes show cancer, she can't see any reason for radiation. Do you agree?" He hesitates before answering. I think he's measuring his thoughts before speaking, not wanting to show disrespect for Dr. Corn's comments but I see it in the shadow that crosses his face. "What you have is curable," he says. "We've reduced your cancer with the chemo. You'll have surgery and then we'll complete your chemo as a cleanup. The chemo has treated your cancer locally but it's also moving throughout your body preventing it from metasticizing anywhere else. The radiation is local and will eliminate any remaining microscopic localized cancer. Then your done and have little concern about it ever returning. Let's do everything we can to end your cancer experience once and for all."
So the bad news is I don't get to skip radiation but the good news is I can expect to be cured. So why am I crying? So many emotions.
Last night I kicked the covers off in a hotflash. A few moments later I awoke shivering but my hands were on fire. I reached down to pull up the comforter which set me tailspinning into shafts of pain radiating from both hands. I felt my husband's hand lovingly squeeze the achilles tendon of my left foot through the covers. I looked up but no one was there. My husband was sound asleep facing away from me. "Lord?" I silently asked and knew He was with me.
I remember reading Don Piper's '90 Minutes in Heaven'. He was trapped in the wreckage of his car and later thanked a man for holding his hand while he waited to be extracted. The man told him he hadn't, it hadn't even been possible. Don knew then who'd held his hand and I know who visited me last night. I am humbled.
I'm anemic so Dr. Kato gave me a shot of Procrit - another miracle drug. Did I tell you? Did you know that the chemo drugs are derivatives of natural plants, mushrooms and trees? Taxol is made from the bark of the California Yew tree. Good of God to provide even this necessary poison.
My surgery is scheduled for October 29th so I have a few weeks to prepare mentally, feast on the Word for fortification. If my writing seems sort of random - blame it on brain fog. I do.
September 11th 2008, 3rd Chemo Looking back)
I approached my second chemo treatment last week with all the fortitude I could muster. My readings and the comments of friends and doctors had prepared me for the worst. So I laid around for a few days following, waiting for whatever was going to hit me before I realized I was off the hook again.
Considering the possibilities, it hardly seems worth mentioning but within a few days of treatment my hair had thinned to the point it was time to shave my head. My husband approached this with the solemnity he felt the occasion required. I had hoped for some levity.
Not facing a mirror, I felt every pass of his electric razor convinced he was missing spots and fighting the urge to grab it from his hands and do it myself. When he was finished I took a look. He hadn't missed a hair. I stared at the image in my mirror with shock at the naked head staring back. I felt exposed, truly naked and like Eve I wanted to run from the humiliation of it. My wig, hats and scarves felt horrible against the short nap of hair remaining so we went back at it with shaving cream and a razor blade. Now that, without a doubt, is the strangest physical sensation I have ever felt. The echo in my skull of the blade scraping across thinly covered bone was bazaar.
I will never forget the look on my husband's face when he looked at me straight on. It nearly knocked the wind out of him and he quickly pulled me into a hug to keep me from seeing his tears. It's sort of a reality check - my wife really does have cancer. It took a few days to adjust. I realized Shoyei had adapted when he commented a few days later "Who would of known I'd end up married to a bald old man?"(and he shunned my bowling ball joke!). For those menopausal women you will appreciate that at the onset of a hot flash, throwing off one's head covering provides instant relief!
There was a second major event last week. My chemo oncology doctor quit. He literally showed up last Wednesday and announced it was his last day! He had a great opportunity to start an oncology facility in Show Low. His patients never heard a word from him. Somewhat shocking for all involved. He left the remaining doctors in the practice scrambling to pick up the multiple balls he dropped, slotting us into their already full schedules.
I am blessed to have landed in the hands of a better doctor(by reputation) whom I already love, Dr Kato is 1/2 Japanese(likeShoyei) and his other half is Cuban. He is sweet and gentle and confident. My first visit to him yielded really good news. The lymph nodes, which this chemo is intended to shrink prior to my surgery, have already shrunk! He felt nothing! I rest in the arms of my Savior.
I approached my second chemo treatment last week with all the fortitude I could muster. My readings and the comments of friends and doctors had prepared me for the worst. So I laid around for a few days following, waiting for whatever was going to hit me before I realized I was off the hook again.
Considering the possibilities, it hardly seems worth mentioning but within a few days of treatment my hair had thinned to the point it was time to shave my head. My husband approached this with the solemnity he felt the occasion required. I had hoped for some levity.
Not facing a mirror, I felt every pass of his electric razor convinced he was missing spots and fighting the urge to grab it from his hands and do it myself. When he was finished I took a look. He hadn't missed a hair. I stared at the image in my mirror with shock at the naked head staring back. I felt exposed, truly naked and like Eve I wanted to run from the humiliation of it. My wig, hats and scarves felt horrible against the short nap of hair remaining so we went back at it with shaving cream and a razor blade. Now that, without a doubt, is the strangest physical sensation I have ever felt. The echo in my skull of the blade scraping across thinly covered bone was bazaar.
I will never forget the look on my husband's face when he looked at me straight on. It nearly knocked the wind out of him and he quickly pulled me into a hug to keep me from seeing his tears. It's sort of a reality check - my wife really does have cancer. It took a few days to adjust. I realized Shoyei had adapted when he commented a few days later "Who would of known I'd end up married to a bald old man?"(and he shunned my bowling ball joke!). For those menopausal women you will appreciate that at the onset of a hot flash, throwing off one's head covering provides instant relief!
There was a second major event last week. My chemo oncology doctor quit. He literally showed up last Wednesday and announced it was his last day! He had a great opportunity to start an oncology facility in Show Low. His patients never heard a word from him. Somewhat shocking for all involved. He left the remaining doctors in the practice scrambling to pick up the multiple balls he dropped, slotting us into their already full schedules.
I am blessed to have landed in the hands of a better doctor(by reputation) whom I already love, Dr Kato is 1/2 Japanese(likeShoyei) and his other half is Cuban. He is sweet and gentle and confident. My first visit to him yielded really good news. The lymph nodes, which this chemo is intended to shrink prior to my surgery, have already shrunk! He felt nothing! I rest in the arms of my Savior.
August 28th 2008, Day 2 Chemo, Part 2
I have an aversion to boredom. Seems to me life is full of reasons to never be bored. Its one of the things that attracted me to my husband. I knew I would never be bored - he still fascinates me.
Perhaps that's why I see my cancer as a curious journey. Not one I would have signed up for but hey, here I am. Might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.So here I sit - IV dripping its tiny cell warriors into my veins equipped with a powerful arsenal to do battle against the enemy cancer cells. It fascinates me that they know how to target different body parts with this stuff.
6 other women share this room today - each in varying stages of their battle. There's implied comaraderie here. I'm grateful for the upbeat jazz playing and that it still makes me want to get up and dance.I'm slipping into the routine of this process. It is my new norm and not nearly so threatening as last time. The scariness is gone.No imagined numbness or other side effects. But it is a bit like standing at the bottom of a mountain and knowing I must scale to the top. I feel well-prepared unlike my first backpack trip into the Sierras when my pack weighed 55lbs(I weighed 115), I wore a pair of Keds and my sister and I had brought our two 3 month old puppies! Now that was a toughie!
My husband is sitting quietly behind me - my sentinel. He's not supposed to be here. No family after the first infusion. He's not deterred but he is quiet as a churchmouse hoping to be excused for breaking the rules for love. I excuse him. I adore him for his commitment to see me through every part of this.
Over - the drip has stopped. A non-event really. Thank You Lord! Now the wait for the symptoms. The anticipation that something is coming I do not yet understand. But I am not alone. And it will be interesting.
I have an aversion to boredom. Seems to me life is full of reasons to never be bored. Its one of the things that attracted me to my husband. I knew I would never be bored - he still fascinates me.
Perhaps that's why I see my cancer as a curious journey. Not one I would have signed up for but hey, here I am. Might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.So here I sit - IV dripping its tiny cell warriors into my veins equipped with a powerful arsenal to do battle against the enemy cancer cells. It fascinates me that they know how to target different body parts with this stuff.
6 other women share this room today - each in varying stages of their battle. There's implied comaraderie here. I'm grateful for the upbeat jazz playing and that it still makes me want to get up and dance.I'm slipping into the routine of this process. It is my new norm and not nearly so threatening as last time. The scariness is gone.No imagined numbness or other side effects. But it is a bit like standing at the bottom of a mountain and knowing I must scale to the top. I feel well-prepared unlike my first backpack trip into the Sierras when my pack weighed 55lbs(I weighed 115), I wore a pair of Keds and my sister and I had brought our two 3 month old puppies! Now that was a toughie!
My husband is sitting quietly behind me - my sentinel. He's not supposed to be here. No family after the first infusion. He's not deterred but he is quiet as a churchmouse hoping to be excused for breaking the rules for love. I excuse him. I adore him for his commitment to see me through every part of this.
Over - the drip has stopped. A non-event really. Thank You Lord! Now the wait for the symptoms. The anticipation that something is coming I do not yet understand. But I am not alone. And it will be interesting.
August 28th 2008, 2nd Day of Chemo
Today I face the second round of chemo. 2nd of 8. I awake to my cup of coffee(I haven't given it up yet) and my appointment with God. "Thank you Lord for this two week reprieve from any symptoms." I am truly grateful forthis. Yet I know they will come in some form. I've been warned this second dose can knock you off your feet and I pray again that this cup will pass."Neverthless thy will be done."
"What will you show me today Lord? Reveal Your ways to me." I open my devotional, August 28th "there He tested them"...Exodus15:25. I laugh, amused at the aptness of the passage. Last night I ran my hands through my hair and came away with fistfulls. It's begun. I'm a little surprised at my resignaion to this - I'm actually happy because I know it means the chemo is doing it's thing - preventing the division of my cancer cells. Temporary baldness seems a small price to pay. My husband is not so happy. He gets angry when I tease him about my intention of drawing bowling ball holes on my head. I lay off. The baldness is the first visible sign that I am sick. I have a lot of hair so the fallout is not obvious today.
Today I face the second round of chemo. 2nd of 8. I awake to my cup of coffee(I haven't given it up yet) and my appointment with God. "Thank you Lord for this two week reprieve from any symptoms." I am truly grateful forthis. Yet I know they will come in some form. I've been warned this second dose can knock you off your feet and I pray again that this cup will pass."Neverthless thy will be done."
"What will you show me today Lord? Reveal Your ways to me." I open my devotional, August 28th "there He tested them"...Exodus15:25. I laugh, amused at the aptness of the passage. Last night I ran my hands through my hair and came away with fistfulls. It's begun. I'm a little surprised at my resignaion to this - I'm actually happy because I know it means the chemo is doing it's thing - preventing the division of my cancer cells. Temporary baldness seems a small price to pay. My husband is not so happy. He gets angry when I tease him about my intention of drawing bowling ball holes on my head. I lay off. The baldness is the first visible sign that I am sick. I have a lot of hair so the fallout is not obvious today.
August 19th 2008, Grace
My dear friend Sheila once expressed in our prayer time the wonder and sufficiency of God's grace for believers in the midst of storms. I can attest to that fact and hope that measure of grace for you though I cannot hope for the trial to take you there. One of the great things about the big hurts and trials in life, is the quick and sweet response of those who love us. Each one ministers in a unique way.
My dear friend Sheila once expressed in our prayer time the wonder and sufficiency of God's grace for believers in the midst of storms. I can attest to that fact and hope that measure of grace for you though I cannot hope for the trial to take you there. One of the great things about the big hurts and trials in life, is the quick and sweet response of those who love us. Each one ministers in a unique way.
April 24, 2008
Pray Believing - It's a Matter of Faith
Matthew 7:7-11 (NKJ)Keep Asking, Seeking, Knocking“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened. Or what man is there among you who, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will he give him a serpent? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!”
A week ago, I was feeling the need to fast and pray for business. We’d had no new business in 6 weeks. In other words there was nothing in the bank. I didn’t believe God wanted me to close up shop. Many livelihoods were being affected. One of my team mates shared a dream she’d had. She’d seen our sales sheet with more sales than there were lines for sales.
The five members of my team gathered to pray. We met early-in-the-morning, turned some praise music on low, turned out the lights and knelt down on our faces. We beseeched God to provide the much needed sales and then spent the remainder of that hour in joyful praise and tearful worship lifting Him up. We committed ourselves individually to fast and pray throughout the day.
When we walked back into the office, the phone started to ring. God was calling with our first sale. Five days later, we put our 12th sale under contract. That's more sales than lines for sales. There is a place on our sales tracking sheet that asks for the source of the sale e.g. advertising, referral etc. We’ve written: God, Jehovah-Jirah, El Shaddai, Eloim. My cup runneth over. Whatever the world may see, the five of us know – God heard our prayers and answered. We are overwhelmed by his over-and-above provision.
I was reminded of one of my favorite missionary stories about a women’s prisoner-of-war camp in the Philippines during WWII. The story is: this one woman was in an isolated cell with bare minimum provisions. There was a little window high up on her wall and if she pulled her bed under the window and used her fingertips on the ledge to pull herself up, she could see her fellow prisoners in the compound. One day as she looked out, she saw a villager sneaking a bunch of bananas through the fence to a prisoner. She delighted for her friends but began to crave bananas. She prayed that somehow God might sneak her a banana. Soon thereafter, her cell door opened and a guard entered with a gift for her – a huge bunch of 92 bananas! I never cease to be amazed at the super-natural God we serve. There is nothing He cannot do. Our God is powerful beyond understanding.
"All things you ask in prayer, believing, you will receive." Matt. 5:22
Pray Believing - It's a Matter of Faith
Matthew 7:7-11 (NKJ)Keep Asking, Seeking, Knocking“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened. Or what man is there among you who, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will he give him a serpent? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!”
A week ago, I was feeling the need to fast and pray for business. We’d had no new business in 6 weeks. In other words there was nothing in the bank. I didn’t believe God wanted me to close up shop. Many livelihoods were being affected. One of my team mates shared a dream she’d had. She’d seen our sales sheet with more sales than there were lines for sales.
The five members of my team gathered to pray. We met early-in-the-morning, turned some praise music on low, turned out the lights and knelt down on our faces. We beseeched God to provide the much needed sales and then spent the remainder of that hour in joyful praise and tearful worship lifting Him up. We committed ourselves individually to fast and pray throughout the day.
When we walked back into the office, the phone started to ring. God was calling with our first sale. Five days later, we put our 12th sale under contract. That's more sales than lines for sales. There is a place on our sales tracking sheet that asks for the source of the sale e.g. advertising, referral etc. We’ve written: God, Jehovah-Jirah, El Shaddai, Eloim. My cup runneth over. Whatever the world may see, the five of us know – God heard our prayers and answered. We are overwhelmed by his over-and-above provision.
I was reminded of one of my favorite missionary stories about a women’s prisoner-of-war camp in the Philippines during WWII. The story is: this one woman was in an isolated cell with bare minimum provisions. There was a little window high up on her wall and if she pulled her bed under the window and used her fingertips on the ledge to pull herself up, she could see her fellow prisoners in the compound. One day as she looked out, she saw a villager sneaking a bunch of bananas through the fence to a prisoner. She delighted for her friends but began to crave bananas. She prayed that somehow God might sneak her a banana. Soon thereafter, her cell door opened and a guard entered with a gift for her – a huge bunch of 92 bananas! I never cease to be amazed at the super-natural God we serve. There is nothing He cannot do. Our God is powerful beyond understanding.
"All things you ask in prayer, believing, you will receive." Matt. 5:22
March 10, 2008
People Patience
"For this finds favor, if for the sake of conscience toward God a person bears up under sorrows when suffering unjustly. For what credit is there if when you sin and are harshly treated, you endure it with patience? But if when you do what is right and suffer for it you patiently endure it, this finds favor with God" 1 Peter 2:19-20
There are two kinds of patience. Patience with circumstances and patience with people. I don't have to tell you which is the more difficult test. What of those who always seem to bring out the worst in us? A new thought was presented to me - they are supposed to! When my worst comes out- it is me who is humbled. I see the ugly response in my mind(and sometimes my words) and am busted! Conviction leads to repentence and repentence to trust and trust to patience. Who am I to judge?
There are some who have caused me much pain. But God uses these individuals to work on me. Instead of reacting in the flesh as is common to man, He prompts me to pray for that person and in the process, my eyes are opened to considering the plight of that individual and I am changed by compassion.
When we recognize that someone is bringing out the worst in us, think about this - God WANTS the worst of us to get out and make room for His best for us!
People Patience
"For this finds favor, if for the sake of conscience toward God a person bears up under sorrows when suffering unjustly. For what credit is there if when you sin and are harshly treated, you endure it with patience? But if when you do what is right and suffer for it you patiently endure it, this finds favor with God" 1 Peter 2:19-20
There are two kinds of patience. Patience with circumstances and patience with people. I don't have to tell you which is the more difficult test. What of those who always seem to bring out the worst in us? A new thought was presented to me - they are supposed to! When my worst comes out- it is me who is humbled. I see the ugly response in my mind(and sometimes my words) and am busted! Conviction leads to repentence and repentence to trust and trust to patience. Who am I to judge?
There are some who have caused me much pain. But God uses these individuals to work on me. Instead of reacting in the flesh as is common to man, He prompts me to pray for that person and in the process, my eyes are opened to considering the plight of that individual and I am changed by compassion.
When we recognize that someone is bringing out the worst in us, think about this - God WANTS the worst of us to get out and make room for His best for us!
March 5, 2008
A Heavenly Lullaby
“He will quiet you with His love.” Zephaniah 3:17
When I was 9 or 10 years old, I used to try to frighten my little brother so he would let me hold and comfort him. The flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz were particularly scary to him. I would just mention that they were coming for him and he’d jump right into my arms. That’s not how he remembers it but I swear it’s the absolute truth. Fortunately, that’s not how God the Father operates. But He is ready when our fears get the best of us.
It is the picture of a nurturing parent and a fretful child. When we can’t see the path ahead and begin to imagine what it might look like, can’t you just picture our Great Heavenly Father shushing us with words of comfort and affirmation? All is well. We are in His arms. He is protecting us now and will provide for us hence. After all, He knows what’s coming just as He knew what has passed before we did. If you keep your eyes upon Him, not upon your circumstances, you can climb into His lap and let Him “quiet you with His love”.
A Heavenly Lullaby
“He will quiet you with His love.” Zephaniah 3:17
When I was 9 or 10 years old, I used to try to frighten my little brother so he would let me hold and comfort him. The flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz were particularly scary to him. I would just mention that they were coming for him and he’d jump right into my arms. That’s not how he remembers it but I swear it’s the absolute truth. Fortunately, that’s not how God the Father operates. But He is ready when our fears get the best of us.
It is the picture of a nurturing parent and a fretful child. When we can’t see the path ahead and begin to imagine what it might look like, can’t you just picture our Great Heavenly Father shushing us with words of comfort and affirmation? All is well. We are in His arms. He is protecting us now and will provide for us hence. After all, He knows what’s coming just as He knew what has passed before we did. If you keep your eyes upon Him, not upon your circumstances, you can climb into His lap and let Him “quiet you with His love”.
February 19, 2008
Testing
"Although I have afflicted you,.....I will afflict you no more." Nahum 1:12
I have just experienced a period of testing. "Sorrows like sea billows rolled". I felt overwhelmed with the seemingly endless trials crashing over me in waves.I remembered a time my husband almost drowned while we vacationed in Cancun. An excellent swimmer, he dove into the ocean waves and with a few confident strokes found himself caught in the convergence of two wave patterns crashing over him. Unable to catch his breath between waves, he would have drowned but for an alert life guard who rescued him.
My circumstances found me deeply humbled as familiar waters turned violent. I barely caught my breath before another trial overtook me. As I studied the scripture 1 Corinthians 13:4-8, the "Love" chapter, God showed me areas in my life needing pruning(for who He loves, He prunes)and I glimpsed His purpose in my suffering. Once I was able to submit to His shears, I sensed a new freedom. He'd cut away a few dead and useless branches I was carrying and the fruit of hope and joy sprang forth.(John 15).
"There is a limit to our affliction. God sends it and then removes it...........who knows how soon these raging waves will give way to a sea of glass"(Streams in the Desert) ................or when God our Lifeguard will pluck us from our circumstances. But we can know that it will be once we've glorified God and given Him all praise and honor.
Testing
"Although I have afflicted you,.....I will afflict you no more." Nahum 1:12
I have just experienced a period of testing. "Sorrows like sea billows rolled". I felt overwhelmed with the seemingly endless trials crashing over me in waves.I remembered a time my husband almost drowned while we vacationed in Cancun. An excellent swimmer, he dove into the ocean waves and with a few confident strokes found himself caught in the convergence of two wave patterns crashing over him. Unable to catch his breath between waves, he would have drowned but for an alert life guard who rescued him.
My circumstances found me deeply humbled as familiar waters turned violent. I barely caught my breath before another trial overtook me. As I studied the scripture 1 Corinthians 13:4-8, the "Love" chapter, God showed me areas in my life needing pruning(for who He loves, He prunes)and I glimpsed His purpose in my suffering. Once I was able to submit to His shears, I sensed a new freedom. He'd cut away a few dead and useless branches I was carrying and the fruit of hope and joy sprang forth.(John 15).
"There is a limit to our affliction. God sends it and then removes it...........who knows how soon these raging waves will give way to a sea of glass"(Streams in the Desert) ................or when God our Lifeguard will pluck us from our circumstances. But we can know that it will be once we've glorified God and given Him all praise and honor.
January 29, 2008
Bad News
The news was bad. The decision was against us. Not what we'd hoped for."He will have no fear of bad news, his heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord"(Psalm 112:7). That is what comforted me through the waiting.
So now I understand. Whether the news is what I'd hoped for or not, I can trust God. His ways are not my ways. Good thing for I would surely mess it up. I am assured of His plans to give me a hope and a future. This "setback" is insignificant on the journey He has for me. I'm excited to see how He will use it.
Bad News
The news was bad. The decision was against us. Not what we'd hoped for."He will have no fear of bad news, his heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord"(Psalm 112:7). That is what comforted me through the waiting.
So now I understand. Whether the news is what I'd hoped for or not, I can trust God. His ways are not my ways. Good thing for I would surely mess it up. I am assured of His plans to give me a hope and a future. This "setback" is insignificant on the journey He has for me. I'm excited to see how He will use it.
January 25, 2008
Waiting
Is there something you are awaiting news on? A job? Test results? Word about a loved one?
Today I will learn the outcome of a particular trial. I've awaited the decision for 6 months. I opened my devotional this morning, after asking God to "Open my eyes that I may behold the wonderful things from your Word" (Psalm 119:18), and was comforted by these jewels:
"He will have no fear of bad news, his heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord." Psalm 112:7
"For I know the plans I have for you,...plans to give you a hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
"He that believeth shall not make haste(Hebrew word meaning put to shame)"Isaiah 28:16
If we will trust Him, no matter the outcome, we will have peace in the waiting. He walks with us.
Waiting
Is there something you are awaiting news on? A job? Test results? Word about a loved one?
Today I will learn the outcome of a particular trial. I've awaited the decision for 6 months. I opened my devotional this morning, after asking God to "Open my eyes that I may behold the wonderful things from your Word" (Psalm 119:18), and was comforted by these jewels:
"He will have no fear of bad news, his heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord." Psalm 112:7
"For I know the plans I have for you,...plans to give you a hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
"He that believeth shall not make haste(Hebrew word meaning put to shame)"Isaiah 28:16
If we will trust Him, no matter the outcome, we will have peace in the waiting. He walks with us.
January 11, 2008
Comfort and the Great Physician
"Comfort, comfort my people, says your God" Isaiah 40:1
My heart is broken. I've lost a friend, a sister very dear to me. This morning I rose up early to meet with my Lord. I sought solace and wondered with expectation what Words He would have for me.
I have a page in my prayer journal I often look at where I have written many of His names. As I began calling on Him - I realized the names Comforter and Great Physician were not yet on this already full page. I added them.
Then, before going on in my prayer time, I opened my devotional - Streams in the Desert - and read this verse - "Comfort, comfort my people says your God." Tears sprang to my eyes and I smiled as I realized that this was indeed His word for me today. And as I wondered ..........my eyes moved down the page devouring the passage.......I came to the name Great Physician. I stopped, amazed at how close God really is to the hurting, the seeking. The very two names I'd recorded moments before jumped from the page! He is our Comforter and Great Physician indeed!
"They tell me love must bleed,
And friendship weep,
Ere in my deepest need
I touch that deep."
We suffer and learn His healing ways so we may comfort those we meet along this journey..........His people.
"Take heed to the ministry which thou hast received in the Lord, that thou fulfill it." Col 4:17
Comfort and the Great Physician
"Comfort, comfort my people, says your God" Isaiah 40:1
My heart is broken. I've lost a friend, a sister very dear to me. This morning I rose up early to meet with my Lord. I sought solace and wondered with expectation what Words He would have for me.
I have a page in my prayer journal I often look at where I have written many of His names. As I began calling on Him - I realized the names Comforter and Great Physician were not yet on this already full page. I added them.
Then, before going on in my prayer time, I opened my devotional - Streams in the Desert - and read this verse - "Comfort, comfort my people says your God." Tears sprang to my eyes and I smiled as I realized that this was indeed His word for me today. And as I wondered ..........my eyes moved down the page devouring the passage.......I came to the name Great Physician. I stopped, amazed at how close God really is to the hurting, the seeking. The very two names I'd recorded moments before jumped from the page! He is our Comforter and Great Physician indeed!
"They tell me love must bleed,
And friendship weep,
Ere in my deepest need
I touch that deep."
We suffer and learn His healing ways so we may comfort those we meet along this journey..........His people.
"Take heed to the ministry which thou hast received in the Lord, that thou fulfill it." Col 4:17
November 28, 2007
Fear Not
"He placed His right hand on me a said "Do not be afraid. I am the First and the Last." Revelations 1:17b
Isn't it awesome! He touches us. Our Creator, Almighty God. He puts His hand on us and reminds us - we have nothing to fear. He IS all we need. He is the First and the Last and everything in between. In the wee small hours when I can't sleep and the fears and worries crowd in - He is there with His touch. With His gentle words. Oh what a mighty comrfort it is!
Fear Not
"He placed His right hand on me a said "Do not be afraid. I am the First and the Last." Revelations 1:17b
Isn't it awesome! He touches us. Our Creator, Almighty God. He puts His hand on us and reminds us - we have nothing to fear. He IS all we need. He is the First and the Last and everything in between. In the wee small hours when I can't sleep and the fears and worries crowd in - He is there with His touch. With His gentle words. Oh what a mighty comrfort it is!
November 13, 2007
Patience
"Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10
Have you ever been at the seashore and seen the waters flat and still, a glassy reflection of the heavens, gently pulsating to the tides pulling to an fro, to and fro? I believe it's a picture of this verse. He has the power to calm the seas and tame the storms roiling about our lives. Our part is to be still and know - He is God.
Patience
"Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10
Have you ever been at the seashore and seen the waters flat and still, a glassy reflection of the heavens, gently pulsating to the tides pulling to an fro, to and fro? I believe it's a picture of this verse. He has the power to calm the seas and tame the storms roiling about our lives. Our part is to be still and know - He is God.
November 5, 2007
Living Water
One day last summer a friend told me she had a dream. We were standing in a line together to go into a place for prayer. She said I stepped out of the line and dove into a swimming pool fully clothed. I got out and dove back in over and over. She tried to get me "back in line" but the Lord told her she needed to do what I was doing.
My eyes filled with tears. I told her that morning I'd been feeling overwhelmed with my work responsibilities. I thought about what I wished I could be doing. When I was 13, my parents had a swimming pool installed. On a hot day, I sometimes had it to myself for a few minutes. I would take a deep breath and I would dive in and just float, revelling in the refreshment of the cool water, the quiet, the weightlessness. I closed my eyes, remembering the delight of it, and I asked God if I would ever experience such quiet enveloping peace again. Then He reminded me "He leads me besides still water"(Psalm 23:2b). I can sit beside it, wade in slowly or I can dive in. He IS the source of the waters of life. (Rev. 22:1) I can fall into Him and be refreshed. Her dream which preceded my memories and my question that morning was confirmation of His answer to me. He knew what I needed before I even asked!
Living Water
One day last summer a friend told me she had a dream. We were standing in a line together to go into a place for prayer. She said I stepped out of the line and dove into a swimming pool fully clothed. I got out and dove back in over and over. She tried to get me "back in line" but the Lord told her she needed to do what I was doing.
My eyes filled with tears. I told her that morning I'd been feeling overwhelmed with my work responsibilities. I thought about what I wished I could be doing. When I was 13, my parents had a swimming pool installed. On a hot day, I sometimes had it to myself for a few minutes. I would take a deep breath and I would dive in and just float, revelling in the refreshment of the cool water, the quiet, the weightlessness. I closed my eyes, remembering the delight of it, and I asked God if I would ever experience such quiet enveloping peace again. Then He reminded me "He leads me besides still water"(Psalm 23:2b). I can sit beside it, wade in slowly or I can dive in. He IS the source of the waters of life. (Rev. 22:1) I can fall into Him and be refreshed. Her dream which preceded my memories and my question that morning was confirmation of His answer to me. He knew what I needed before I even asked!
October 15, 2007
Doing Good
"Let us not become weary of doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."(Galatians 6:9)
I found myself needing fresh vision and inspiration so I asked God to refresh me. He gave me this verse. It's so easy to become complacent. Sometimes the needs are overwhelming. Sometimes I feel fear and even the ugly self-pity of depression.
Today this verse grabbed me. I am useful for my Lord. I am His hands, His feet, His mouthpiece. But it's up to me to act.In the sweet little church where my son and I first met Christ, there was a large carved plaque over the door leading out of the church. It said "YOU ARE NOW ENTERING THE MISSION FIELD". It may be closer than that. I determine today that as arise in the morning, as my feet hit the floor I am entering the mission field.
Doing Good
"Let us not become weary of doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."(Galatians 6:9)
I found myself needing fresh vision and inspiration so I asked God to refresh me. He gave me this verse. It's so easy to become complacent. Sometimes the needs are overwhelming. Sometimes I feel fear and even the ugly self-pity of depression.
Today this verse grabbed me. I am useful for my Lord. I am His hands, His feet, His mouthpiece. But it's up to me to act.In the sweet little church where my son and I first met Christ, there was a large carved plaque over the door leading out of the church. It said "YOU ARE NOW ENTERING THE MISSION FIELD". It may be closer than that. I determine today that as arise in the morning, as my feet hit the floor I am entering the mission field.
October 4, 2007
God's Perspective
"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. Isaiah 55:8
Years ago we put our house up for sale in Missouri. It seemed a hopeless venture in a tough market. I knew my husband expected me to go back to work once we moved but I prayed - I'd pleaded with God - that I would be able to stay at home at least until my infant daughter started school. For 4 years we tried to sell our home. I was so tired of keeping our home ready for showings. My children's rooms were kept spotless as we stood ready to get out of the way of the realtors at a moment's notice. I prayed and prayed for that "right" buyer. I thought God had forgotten us. After nearly 5 years we sold our home.
When we finally made it to Prescott I enrolled in real estate school(which all those years on the market had prepared me for). I passed my class and as I awaited receipt of my license by mail, I prepared my daughter for kindergarten. My license finally arrived - dated August 22, 1981. My son's 10th birthday. My daughter's first day of school!
God answered both of my prayers for the right buyer and that I stay with my children until they were both in school) according to His perfect timing. And one I hadn't thought to ask for. He prepared me with career training.
If we listen to the world we will hear: "we deserve a break", "we're worth it" and "just do it"! But the Word teaches that when we put ourselves aside, we get a glimpse of God's eternal plan. When we get the focus off ourselves- our trials, our failures, our suffering - when we remember "it's not about me" - the Holy Spirit becomes clearer and brighter. And not only are we buoyed by the joy and peace that replaces our self centeredness. But others are drawn to the hope that is in us.
Are you experiencing a trial? Is there a decision that's out of your control? Are you watching the suffering of a loved one? Have you experienced rejection? Have you lost your job? Are the bills piling up? Are you feeling discouraged? Do health issues have you feeling fearful? Take heart - God is still on His throne. There is nowhere where He is not. Whatever we face, He knows. He knows how this experience will be used for your good and His glory for those who know Him. Looking back, I am grateful that my ways are not His ways.
God's Perspective
"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. Isaiah 55:8
Years ago we put our house up for sale in Missouri. It seemed a hopeless venture in a tough market. I knew my husband expected me to go back to work once we moved but I prayed - I'd pleaded with God - that I would be able to stay at home at least until my infant daughter started school. For 4 years we tried to sell our home. I was so tired of keeping our home ready for showings. My children's rooms were kept spotless as we stood ready to get out of the way of the realtors at a moment's notice. I prayed and prayed for that "right" buyer. I thought God had forgotten us. After nearly 5 years we sold our home.
When we finally made it to Prescott I enrolled in real estate school(which all those years on the market had prepared me for). I passed my class and as I awaited receipt of my license by mail, I prepared my daughter for kindergarten. My license finally arrived - dated August 22, 1981. My son's 10th birthday. My daughter's first day of school!
God answered both of my prayers for the right buyer and that I stay with my children until they were both in school) according to His perfect timing. And one I hadn't thought to ask for. He prepared me with career training.
If we listen to the world we will hear: "we deserve a break", "we're worth it" and "just do it"! But the Word teaches that when we put ourselves aside, we get a glimpse of God's eternal plan. When we get the focus off ourselves- our trials, our failures, our suffering - when we remember "it's not about me" - the Holy Spirit becomes clearer and brighter. And not only are we buoyed by the joy and peace that replaces our self centeredness. But others are drawn to the hope that is in us.
Are you experiencing a trial? Is there a decision that's out of your control? Are you watching the suffering of a loved one? Have you experienced rejection? Have you lost your job? Are the bills piling up? Are you feeling discouraged? Do health issues have you feeling fearful? Take heart - God is still on His throne. There is nowhere where He is not. Whatever we face, He knows. He knows how this experience will be used for your good and His glory for those who know Him. Looking back, I am grateful that my ways are not His ways.
September 20, 2007
Follow Jesus
Jesus said: "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." Matthew 4:19
Ask Father today to give you the faith to take up your cross and follow Him. "For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?" Matthew 16:25-26a
Is He calling you deeper into Himself?
Follow me and I will make you,
Make you speak my words with power,
Make you vessels of My mercy,
Make you helpful every hour.
Follow Me and I will make you.....
Make you what you cannot be -
Make you loving, trustful, godly,
Make you even just like Me.
I used to delight in the way my daughter followed me around the house. I called her my little shadow. She desired nothing more than to stick close to me - watching me, asking questions and just being wherever I was. It's such a picture of how we are to follow Jesus - watching Him, questioning Him and sharing our thoughts, seeking His opinion and just being close to him.
Father, may each of us draw close and follow You. Increase our faith and fill us with the simple trust of a child to follow You....to want only to walk in Your shadow.
Follow Jesus
Jesus said: "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." Matthew 4:19
Ask Father today to give you the faith to take up your cross and follow Him. "For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?" Matthew 16:25-26a
Is He calling you deeper into Himself?
Follow me and I will make you,
Make you speak my words with power,
Make you vessels of My mercy,
Make you helpful every hour.
Follow Me and I will make you.....
Make you what you cannot be -
Make you loving, trustful, godly,
Make you even just like Me.
I used to delight in the way my daughter followed me around the house. I called her my little shadow. She desired nothing more than to stick close to me - watching me, asking questions and just being wherever I was. It's such a picture of how we are to follow Jesus - watching Him, questioning Him and sharing our thoughts, seeking His opinion and just being close to him.
Father, may each of us draw close and follow You. Increase our faith and fill us with the simple trust of a child to follow You....to want only to walk in Your shadow.
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