This past week I gave up my day job for awhile. It was a difficult decision for several reasons: It gave me a reason to get dressed every day. It allowed me to be around people that I love seeing. And it kept me active, thinking about others instead of myself. Cancer can be quite self-absorbing if you let it. And I have at times. Through the process of radiation, I get tired a lot easier and I think God was saying “Take care of yourself.” So please excuse me in the FBC office for a season as I do just so. J
Stick a Fork in It…I’m Done!
August 2013
I’m happy to report I have completed my official full nine week round of chemotherapy! Just when I thought I’d get a trophy, or something worthy of bragging rights, the medical team reminded me of the second part of the process. “You get a hiatus of about a month, then gear up for round 2: Seven weeks of Radiation with Chemo.” Oh joy.
I can honestly say this journey of cancer has been the hardest thing I have ever had to go through. Just when I would throw in the towel (believe me I did, more times than I care to admit), God, in His infinite mercy would prompt some amazing person to send me a text, email or card in the mail for encouragement. I can’t tell you how many times I bawled like a baby reading a comforting scripture, listening to the perfect song or receiving some inspiration from friends like you to lift my spirits. How people go through something like this without the power of praying people is beyond me. God has permanently etched more compassion in my heart, and I’ve already had opportunities to express empathy toward others.
I am now a full-time stomach tube eater! And truthfully, it’s been easier than I thought it would be. I don’t know if my brain has taken over my food cravings…or God—I’m trusting that it’s God. Certain foods smell and look good, but with intense mouth and throat sores along with dry mouth being the norm this week—the thought of putting anything besides water in my mouth repels me. Swallowing water has even been difficult. I’ve also developed an itchy rash across my upper chest…it’s just lovely (insert sarcasm here). I don’t know if the rash is a normal thing, so the doctor and I will have words at my appointment tomorrow.
Please do not mistake this as a pity party—it’s not. I’ve had a few of those already, and decided they’re not as fulfilling as they claim to be. As always, God continues to reveal His marvelous love by carrying me each step of the way.
Hey, I only have 17 days left of treatment—Praise God for His faithfulness and YOU!
Second Verse—Not the Same as the First
Week 2 of chemo treatments came and thankfully we had a better game plan. Nausea medication was administered every 6 hours around the clock regardless. It helped through day 3 and then the dreaded nausea/vomiting set in once again. I was determined to stay out of the hospital and forced myself to sip any kind of fluids my stomach would allow. I was also blessed to have my sister from Arizona with me during the week and she made sure my stomach tube was put into action…whether I wanted it or not.
Being fed through a stomach tube is interesting. Even though you can’t taste what you’re ingesting, you feel it there. And your stomach still has the option to accept or reject the feeding. Although difficult at times, it was mostly accepted. In hindsight, thanks Becci…you make a great nurse!
By Saturday, I could see the light…God had carried me through the dark tunnel once again. Thank you, Jesus! I had one more week down, which encouraged me to continue to plod forward.
I read something recently saying “God’s strength is enough. But you have to get to the end of yours to learn that.” That spoke volumes to me. I’m trying to relinquish my “strength” more willingly because I know there is no comparison to God’s. Some days it’s hard. I forget, get distracted or most often, lose my focus of my relationship with Him. Sometimes I envision God sitting with his head in his hands wondering if I’ll EVER get it. But praise God, He is always faithful to draw me back into the comforting shadow of His wings.
Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings.—Psalm 17:8
Update: Radiation is in full swing and I’m happy to report I’ve completed over 1/3 of my 35 treatments! Yeah! Some of the side effects are beginning to make their ugly appearances…mouth sores, loss of taste and appetite. I think the hardest thing I’m dealing with is the loss of taste. Everything that may look and sound delicious instantly turns to a bitter cardboard taste when I put it in my mouth. Blech! It’s a mental challenge to eat…such a foreign concept to me…and hard to fully explain. And I am now to the point of utilizing my stomach tube more often than not. I never realized how important every detail of God’s design in us was. Even to the point of a mere taste bud.
But…I am encouraged! My doctor says I am doing fantastic, and keeping a positive attitude is a huge part of the battle. I am grateful for all of you that are journeying with me. I find peace knowing I am not alone. God, you and me. Thank you.
Cancer is Not for Sissies. They Weren’t Kidding.
What happened in the days following my diagnosis were mostly a blur. Numerous doctor visits, blood work, procedures and scans. We were inundated with a lot of foreign medical jargon…some sunk in, most didn’t. Bottom line: Chemotherapy and radiation treatments would be necessary. “The cancer is aggressive and so will the treatments”—the strongest of medications would be administered.
After a successful portacath surgery the week before, my chemo treatments began on Monday, July 15, 2013 at 8:30 a.m. in Winfield, Kansas. The plan was to make the daily trek, Monday through Friday for one week of treatment—get two weeks off to rest—another week of chemo—two weeks off—then one final round. I was also “hooked up” with a pump that allowed the drugs to be dispensed into my system 24/7 during my treatment weeks. An awkward adjustment to carry around and sleep with, but I made it work. A radiation/chemo treatment combo would follow later.
As week one began, the nurses gave me all of the paperwork explaining procedures, expectations, etc. They got me comfortable in “the chair”, hooked me up and so it began. Each treatment took about 4 hours a day. By the end of day 2 of chemo, my nausea overtook my appetite like an out of control riverbed swelling at its banks. It raged viciously with nausea and vomiting, rendering me sorely dehydrated. I couldn’t make myself eat or drink anything. All I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and sleep—hoping the pain and nausea would subside. It didn’t. By the end of the week while vomiting in my “chemo chair”, the nurses called my doctor and he fixed me up with a two night hospital stay getting the much needed IV fluids to get me back on track. Thank you, Jesus—finally, some relief! It was then I realized why they have the two week hiatus between treatments. I had to learn the hard way—of course.
Since my first week of treatments had gone so badly, the doctors decided it was wise to have a stomach tube inserted to make certain proper nutrition could be better administered if needed. I was told earlier by my doctors this would probably be needed “down the road”—most likely during radiation treatments. It became obvious, the sooner the better for me. Before I left my 3-day hospital stay on Sunday, I was scheduled the following day for the outpatient procedure. The surgery to insert the stomach tube went well—and by the end of the week I slowly began to get my strength back with a gradual increase in appetite. When I would get discouraged about being tired, my daughter would remind me, “Mom, you’ve had 2 outpatient surgeries, 1 full week of chemo and a 3-day hospital stay all within a week and a half. It’s going to take time.” She was right, of course.
Throughout this week of hardships, I was reminded of Job and his sufferings. In all of his trials, he refused to stop fighting for his life. He refused to stop being faithful. He refused to stop believing God loved him. Job made a choice to continue trusting in God. He had a relationship that was worth fighting for—one that was faithful—loving—and trustworthy. It was all about the relationship. Father God, I will rest in You.
It was June of 2013, and along with many others, I suffered the dreaded allergy plague. After battling a persistent sore throat, I finally caved and went to the doctor for the usual strep test. It was, of course, negative—so with a slightly swollen gland, I was prescribed an antibiotic and sent on my way. After several days, I felt much better, but my gland remained swollen. A week later, I had my usual monthly follow-up appointment with my cancer doctor. After a quick examination, he expressed concern in finding a lump in my right neck gland. A needle biopsy and CT scan were scheduled as soon as possible.
I decided if I had to go to Wichita for a biopsy, the entire day should not be wasted. It’s the law. So the trip of gloom was turned into a mother/daughter day—my mom, myself and my daughter—a three generation affair. We enjoyed a nice lunch and successfully swimsuit shopped at Kohls. Last stop planned, of course, was the doctor’s office. Our waiting room stay was short, and before long we were all ushered into the all-too-familiar little room to await the doctor. Almost immediately he entered with his usual handshake and pleasant introductions ready to proceed. Before he began the biopsy, I asked, “Doctor, do you believe in the power of prayer?” Without hesitation he stated, “Yes, I most certainly do. Prayer is very powerful.” “Good" I said—"because I’ve got a lot of people praying for me right now.” With that assurance, I tilted my head past the doctor to wink at my mom and daughter and said, “Let’s do this!” Everything went smoothly as planned, and before we knew it, we were out the door and on our way home.
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The day before my biopsy follow-up appointment, I awoke at 2:48 a.m. early Monday morning. I heard God whisper, “It’s back.” My heart replied, “Really?What do you want me to do?” And God said, “TrustMe.”
The next day, the doctor’s tests confirmed what God had already told me—my cancer had returned.
To truly know the journey, you have to experience it for yourself. Let me honestly say, I thank God almost every day for the path He has me on right now. In the midst of my struggles, tears and pain, my Savior continues to draw me to Himself—every single time without fail. He has given me a heart of compassion and empathy that surpasses all understanding while increasing my level of trust and faith beyond description. Do I like having cancer? No. Do I enjoy daily struggles? No. Do I find unexplainable rest and peace as I am continually drawn into the arms of my loving Savior? Yes! Who else can do that but our Almighty God?
