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.