Treasures Gleaned

This is a flashback to February’s craziness…

On the same long weekend my sister Jill was in town, we determined to have fun in the midst of the pain.  The immediate pain was the port procedure on Thursday.  She took me in for it, we made sweet memories, laughed way too much for the occasion, and returned for a restful day.

A funny moment actually happened in the operating room once I was all prepped for surgery.  I heard the doctor come in, ask for instruments, and begin the procedure.  He was watching a screen next to the operating table where I lay, to ensure he put the port in the correct vein.  I was also watching, which he hadn’t noticed, and asked him a question about the procedure.  I scared him half to death, I think, from his reaction!

“Uh nurse, we need some more anesthesia over here!”  He probably followed it up with “stat” or some other doctorly word, as that’s what I would say if the patient I thought was out started talking to me in the middle of a procedure.

Fortunately, I wasn’t in any pain, and asked if I could remain awake and watch the procedure (on the screen of course).  It was fascinating, and I learned all about a port procedure.  They also allowed me to take a picture of my port placed internally for posterity (below).  What a great team at Wake Med Cary.

The next day was busy with a lunch Jill had planned with Elizabeth, Marion, and Anne, as well as a dental appointment,  and my personal favorite – an ophthalmology appointment to see the best ophthalmologist in the world (my husband for those of you who aren’t putting that together!).  It was also the day of Kai’s low platelet scare and visit to several ERs.  Heaven obviously helped us or that day would have been far too much for me!

Saturday finally brought a little more of the fun we were seeking.  A visit to Angel Hair Wig Gallery in N. Raleigh was a ball!  I never expected choosing a wig would be such a delightful time.  And I certainly never thought I would look so terrible blond.  Thank goodness I’ve never had the nerve to color my hair.  The owners of Angel Hair Wigs were extremely caring: its’ obvious this is their vocation and not simply a job to them.  Immediately after, Jill and my mom and I  headed for a haircut. I have had long hair my entire life, and I hoped if I said “goodbye on my own terms”, it may make the actual hair loss part a little easier.  Plus, if I only have two weeks to try on a new hairstyle, risk-free, why not?  It was another special memory for us.  Pictures are below of both.

That evening, my other sister Autumn drove in for a birthday celebration for me and Jill, who are both February birthdays.  How special to have my nuclear family (and Gabe of course) together to celebrate at Melting Pot, where we have many birthday memories!  Two special friends at church babysat for us to make a get-away possible.  It was an extremely full, but very special weekend leading up to my first chemo treatment on February 5^th.

The ultrasound on March 28^th confirmed all the hand measurements from my oncologist’s office: the tumor has been busy shrinking away.  Praise you, God!

Ultrasound on 1/15/18: 6.0cm x 2.6cm x 5.4 cm

Ultrasound on 3/28/18: 2.2cm x 0.9cm x 2.9cm

When I was in for my 4^th chemo treatment yesterday, my oncologist told me that when he figured the approximate mass of the tumor, it is only 7% of the size of when we started.  93% melted away!  What excellent news.

As I head into my 4^th “hard week” following the chemo infusion, it is so encouraging to hear this.  It makes each side effect feel worthwhile.  We are praying for several things as I continue with chemo:

• Praising God for no big outbreak of the rash I had in rounds 1 or 2. That made a big difference in round 3, and we are praying it will never return.
• Perseverance through the nausea, and that I would have wisdom in what to eat to help in regard to digestive health through the difficult weeks. I’ve always had an iron stomach, so it’s been a big change to have to so carefully watch what I eat
• Continued strength and wisdom for Gabe and our parents as they care for our kids through this season
• Wisdom as we meet with and choose a radiation oncologist, who will direct my radiation plan after surgery. Also, wisdom in choosing a plastic surgeon who will do my reconstruction after the mastectomy.

On the family front, we were busy during the good week visiting with our dear friend Nadia, and celebrating birthdays (Gabe’s and Nate turned 2!).  I was so thankful that their birthdays “just happened to fall” on my good week, so I could be involved, and part of the celebrations.  How special.  Kai also started crawling and is busily exploring the world around him, dishwashers and all!  A few pictures below.

Thank you for continuing to journey with us, pray for us, and encourage us.  Your calls, texts, emails, letters, and especially prayer have meant the world to us in this season.

There are a few things that have been too emotional for me to write about yet.  January was such a raw month.  The shock of hearing I may have cancer, followed by the positive biopsy results, the rush of scans to see if it had spread (and the interminable waiting to hear some news), a litany of doctors’ visits to quickly formulate a battle-plan, and then we were diving in to treatment (my port was placed on Feb 1^st).

In the midst of the storm in our hearts, God spoke such peace to us through our church family at Summit Church.  In God’s providence, a “Prayer & Praise night” was already on the calendar for January 24^th (we may have them two or three times a year?).  I reached out to our campus pastor, Derrick DeLain, to see if we could be prayed for.

One of our neighbors, who we love like a father, came simply to support us that evening.  Do you know how special it is when various parts of your world intersect?  To stand holding my husband’s hand and dear Richard’s hand, my mom and baby Kai nearby, surrounded by our church family, singing praise to our worthy God.  The world was right again in the midst of our turmoil.

We prayed for many things that evening.  We worshipped our infinitely worthy, unfathomable God.  And as the evening drew to a close, and our campus pastor was casting the vision for the upcoming year, I thought he’d decided that night was not a good night to pray for us.  Or perhaps, he preferred to have the church pray for us during a regular Saturday / Sunday worship service.  We had no idea what was in store.

Derrick finished casting the vision for the direction for our campus this year.  It was really powerful.  He then quickly filled our church family in on the little we knew of my diagnosis, and reminded us all of God’s power, and that this did not take Him by surprise, as it did us.  He asked Gabe and I if we would come down to the front.  Derrick then said he wanted to do something for the first time in our four years as a campus: he asked the whole church to stand and surround us.

Pastors, elders, our small group, our friends streamed forward to circle us.  And then we prayed together.  Hundreds of people desperately, boldly, trustingly petitioned our great God for my total healing, and for strength on this journey.  In my entire life, I have never felt more supported or encouraged.  Ever.  In a raw, chaotic time in our lives, the Body of Christ moved to surround us and bring us peace.

The picture above is the one we have of the evening.  I absolutely treasure it and am so thankful to have it.  (If anyone else has another one, I’d love it!).  I wish you could see the hundreds of people around us, but it will give you a glimpse.

1 Corinthians 12:24-27

But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it, 25 so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. 26 If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.

27 Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.

Colossians 3:15

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. 

My 3rd chemo was on Monday, but before I was given the infusion, the PA measured the tumor.

• Feb 5th (Starting point): 5.5 cm x 6.5 cm (rough measurements taken by hand). Size of a tennis ball or an orange
• Feb 26th: 3.5 cm x 4 cm. Size of a golf ball
• March 19th: 2.5 cm x 3 cm

We are praising God for His continued healing, and are obviously thrilled with any progress in the right direction.

I have an ultrasound next Wednesday (the 28th) to do a more precise measurements, but I was excited the PA felt the tumor was much less dense.  In addition to measuring the mass smaller, she said the edges of the tumor were much less defined (less dense) than in weeks past.  We are so thankful for such great news.

Right now, I am in the throes of the “bad week”.  It should last until approximately Good Friday.  Very fitting!  Please pray for grace and endurance during this valley.  Specifically, we are praying for:

• Physical strength and endurance for Gabe and our precious parents, who are the acting care-givers.  They are heroes in our eyes, caring for our four little ones, and keeping the household running better than I do!
• Emotional and spiritual strength (or reliance on the Lord).  This is a physical test to be sure, but it is equally an emotional and spiritual one.
• Relief from the nausea
• Energy to be present with the kids.  Its easy for the adults in our home to understand that I need space, peace, quiet.  It’s not easy for our sweet 5, 3, and 1 year olds.  They simply want to play with Mommy or to be around Mommy.  And more than anything, I want to have the energy to be with them.
• No rash this time around.  The last two rounds, I’ve had a pretty impressive “acne-type” rash on my right side.  Probably 75 – 100 individual “pimples” that take a week forming, coming to a head, and then resolving.  It is pretty painful / irritating (and itchy) as you can imagine.  So far, so good!
• Wisdom with what I eat. Of course, I want to eat well, drink enough, and keep my strength up.  But I certainly have “gotten into trouble” with what I’ve eaten too. And having a bloated, rumbling tummy on top of everything is not pleasant.

Thank you for all the continued encouragement!  We are often amazed by the gift of cards, texts, calls.  You are buoying our spirits during this season.

 

So many precious prayers are being prayed for us right now, “on the ground” in this season of our lives.  Thank you for lifting us up to our good, good Father.

Several prayers recorded by faithful men or women of God many years ago have also brought such comfort to my heart.  The following is from “The Valley of Vision: A collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions”:

“Lord, high and holy, meek and lowly, Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision, where  I live in the depths but see thee in the heights; hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold thy glory.

Let me learn by paradox that the way down is the way up, that to be low is to be high, that the broken heart is the healed heart, that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit, that the repenting soul is the victorious soul, that to have nothing is to possess all, that to bear the cross is to wear the crown, that to give is to receive, that the valley is the place of vision.

Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from the deepest wells, and the deeper the wells the brighter thy stars shine; Let me find thy light in my darkness, thy life in my death, thy joy in my sorrow, thy grace in my sin, thy riches in my poverty, thy glory in my valley. “

 

 

Another prayer that blessed me when I read it was one by St. Francis de Sales.  A good friend shared it with me, so I’m not sure which book / devotional it is from:

“Do not look forward in fear, rather look forward with full hope.  God, whose very own you are, will lead you safely through all things, and when you cannot stand it any longer, He will carry you in His arms.

Do not fear what might happen tomorrow; the same good God who cares for you today will take care of you then and every day of your life.  

He will either shield you from suffering or will give you unfailing strength to bear it.  Be at peace and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations.”

I get the feeling sometimes that those we love the most are extremely sad we have to walk this road.  That kind of love and empathy is precious to us.  Medicine to our hearts.  This season certainly is more challenging than any we have walked before.  But we are viewing it as a season.  “A tough year”, as my friend Marion said.  She would know.  She walked the breast cancer road 7 years ago.

So that you won’t feel too badly for us, here are a few silver linings we are experiencing along the way:

• A year off from house duties. How many 38-year-old mothers of four can kick back and enjoy a year off from cooking, cleaning, and almost any duty normally required from us parents?  Not many, I can tell you that.  Silver linings.

 

• Lots of time at home with the kids. Those of you that know us well know that we love to travel.  I always have.  I honestly do not remember a year since I was a teenager that I was not going on missions trips, traveling far and near, and going, going, going.  Suddenly, we’re not going anywhere.  For a year?  (I’m honestly not sure if I’ll last.  I’m pretty sure we’ll have to sneak out-of-town at some point!).  But the silver lining since my diagnosis in January has been so much time together at home as a family.

 

• Speaking of time with the kids… How many of my friends who are parents relate to this scenario?  “Mommy, can you read me a book?”  “Mommy, can you play a game with me?”  “Mommy, do you want to color with me?”

Don’t you always want to when those sweet little kiddos ask?  But how often do we make time for it?  Speaking for myself, not nearly  enough.  It’s understandable, I know.  Our careers demands a lot of our time and energy.  Low energy from pregnancy.  A perpetual mess to clean around the house.  Meals to fix for hungry little people.  Carpools to run.

 Suddenly, with three other care-givers in the house, someone else is preparing the meals and wiping cute little bums.  With nothing expected of me, I am free to pull little Will onto my lap to read “The Harbor Book” for the 6^th time simply because he asked.  I have time to color pictures and play more board games with our five-year-old, Abby.  Nate, as any busy toddler, runs up for a short snuggle and is gone exploring about as quickly.  I even get to lay around on the floor and enjoy playing the mimic game with our 10 month old, Kai.  You know how it goes.  He says “Aghhhhhhhhhh”, I say “Aghhhhhhhh”.  We both smile.  And repeat endlessly.

 

• The newly shaved “bald head feeling”. I’m not going to lie.  It’s pretty great.  My resilient hair keeps trying to grow back.  But when it gets to the slightly prickly stage, it “sticks” on your pillow.  The “smooth head feeling” is where it’s at.  So I’ve become a smooth head junky.  Gabe shaved it the first few times for me, but I’ve taken up shaving it myself.  A new razor, a little Head Slick.  Best feeling ever.

 

• Connected. We have never felt more connected to people, and it has been an absolutely beautiful experience.  Most difficult seasons in peoples’ lives (financial, stresses with children, marriage, or work) can be hidden; ours is not.  So many know this is a difficult time in our lives…and so many have come alongside to carry the burden with us.

One example: I have wanted to be mentored for years, but the days with little ones are so busy.  In this unlikely season, God has provided a couple from our church who have already become incredible mentors to Gabe and me.  They have mentored couples for close to thirty years, and walked this road (a breast cancer diagnosis) nineteen years ago.  They have deep empathy and understanding for the stresses of this time, and have become such a safe place for us.

 

• Served. Peoples’ service to us has largely been the avenue for the connection we have felt with folks.  I probably have received more handwritten letters in the last month than in my last 37 years combined!  They have come from dear friends of ours, from high school teachers I adore, from church friends of my sister in Tennessee.  One arrived from my older sister’s mother-in-law’s neighbor (I know you’ll have to read that a few times!).  Every single one has been a treasure.  We read them, we save them, re-read, and are encouraged.

Friends from church, preschool, our neighborhood have brought us a stream meals every Mon, Wed, and Fri since my diagnosis.  And they are still coming!   Even out-of-town friends have had meals delivered to us, or have sent gift cards.  We have been so humbled.  And meals have been a tremendous, practical help in this season.  “Thank you” truly feels inadequate.

Three of our children attend the same preschool, and the parents there have taken turns making lunches for our kids, so we will have one less detail to take care of (and making lunches for three little kids, while trying to feed, dress them, and get them out the door to preschool is quite a large task).

Friends of ours have picked up our kids and taken them for play dates!  Several friends from church have come over to babysit our kids so we can get out of the house.  Even our kids are being blessed in this season.

People all over the world are praying for us.  We have friends who are missionaries in Ethiopia who have reached out to us multiple times.  There is a beautiful school named GGCC (http://www.ggcckenya.org/) for vulnerable children in Kenya that I had the privilege to visit in 2002.  The founders wrote to tell us that the school of 700 students gathered together to call out to God for my healing.  Our church has come around us in special ways to pray.  Friends from all over the country are praying for us.

 

When I began this post, I had a lot of funny little silver linings in mind like the “newly shaved bald head feeling” to make you laugh.  It has turned out to be quite a serious one.  Hopefully, you can sense that we are laughing through this time.  And even more importantly, our hearts are full of gratitude for the countless unexpected gifts that each one of you have given us.  Thank you for praying for us, for serving us, for connecting with us.  We are so thankful for you.

My second chemo treatment was Feb 26^th, so I’m right in the middle of “the low week”.  I’ve been told to expect eight days of the valley this time.  What a gift I’ve been given here, and I praise God for it.  This valley has not been nearly as difficult and dark as last time!  Thank you, loved ones, for praying for us.  I truly believe God has been delighted to answer the many of us who are asking Him.

My nephew Wes is turning 11 today.  I called to wish him Happy Birthday and hear what his day holds (and it sounds pretty incredible!).  What a sweet gift he gave me as he shared that he prays for me multiple times every day…and exactly when those times are.  He has times set aside to pray for his Tia.  Precious guy.  There are so many who are interceding for us, and I know God is answering.

The side effects have been so much more doable this time around.  The standard protocol after chemo is to give a “Neulasta” shot, which stimulates bone marrow production to produce additional healthy white blood cells (since the chemo is killing off my existing ones).  I had what my oncologist called a “tremendous response” to the first shot after chemo #1.  My white blood cell counts were around 41,000 at day 10 instead of the normal 8,000-9,000.  Praise God for an excellent physician.  He recommended we try a series of “small, daily shots” called Neupogen that Gabe gives me each evening at bedtime during the low week.  I believe it has been much easier for my body to tolerate.

God has guarded me from sickness, even with three of our sweet kiddos in preschool, church programs, etc.  It has been such a gift not to have a sinus infection on top of it all this time around.  And there is no straight-forward explanation for why other side effects have been better – except prayer.  And I do believe that’s the explanation.  The nausea has been more doable, the stomach bug effects, my mouth’s soreness has been almost non-existent (the ginseng?).  I praise God for His gifts and kindness to us.

Friends, I did not want to wait long to share an update we are thrilled with!  Yesterday, when I went to my second chemo treatment, the PA who assists my oncologist measured the mass in my breast.  It feels a little rudimentary, as my oncologist freely admitted.  The PA simply took a ruler, and measured the mass up and down, and then left to right.  It’s not perfect, but the oncologist explained that if the same person measures every time in exactly the same way, it’s a decent barometer of our progress.  If my oncologist is not seeing the results he wants, he always has the option to order ultrasound tests, a breast MRI, etc. (as we did in the discovery phase) to measure exactly what is happening with the size of the tumor.

Though I’ve been measured several times already in the office (by both the oncologist and PA), yesterday was the first time I was measured since beginning treatment 3 weeks ago.  Several doctors have told me the hopeful good news of an aggressively growing Her2neu positive tumor is that it may shrink as quickly as it grew.  One doctor said Her2neu positive tumors like mine can be “exquisitely sensitive to treatment”.  Another doctor said these types of tumors sometimes “melt away pretty dramatically”.  I remember loving that description, and praying that would be exactly what mine does.  My oncologist said about 10% of patients receiving my protocol of chemo do not see any response, and we would shift gears and try different drugs if that happens.

My life is in God’s hands…As all of our lives are.  I feel completely safe and unafraid knowing that my good, good Father who loves me has me in His loving grasp through this scary season.  It’s not that I never experience fear.  But when I come back to the truth of who is holding me, I have no reason to fear.  I really do not.

There is a beautiful passage in Luke 11 that has become dear to Gabe and I over the last few weeks.  It was from a sermon on prayer that our pastor, JD Greear at Summit Church, preached on Jan. 7th, 2018.  Here’s the link, in case you’d like to watch it.

https://summitrdu.com/message/how-to-deal-with-unanswered-prayer/

The beginning of Luke 11 starts with Jesus praying, and the disciples watching.  Once he was finished, his disciples asked him to teach them how to pray.  Jesus instantly complied!  The next passage is the famous “Lord’s prayer” with which most of us are familiar.  The very next verses are several stories (or parables) Jesus tells his disciples to continue teaching them about prayer.  Here is the passage that has become so dear to Gabe and I:

Luke 11:11-13

“What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish given him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion?  If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”

Gabe has reminded me often through this journey, “Leigh Anne, God will not give us a scorpion.  This may feel like a scorpion, but it’s not!  This is an egg.  God will provide for us through this.  He will not bring us harm.”  Oh my goodness.  That one phrase, “God will not give us a scorpion” has kept my heart grounded.  He is our good, good Father!  Are there any parents like us out there?  Gabe and I would never slip a scorpion into the hands of our precious children when they are hungry and reaching out for a snack.  We want to take care of them, provide for them, and nourish them.  How much more does God?  He is our perfect Father.

In that same sermon, this is how JD Greear (our pastor) explained the above passage.  The below is copied straight from his sermon notes:

“Here’s how Jesus explains that: Luke 11:11 What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; 12 or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion?

• You parents: If your kid asks for chicken nugget, you’re not going to say, “OK, hold out your hand.” No, you only give give good gifts. Same with God.
• So, let’s reverse that: If your child asks you for a scorpion, will you give them a scorpion? No.
• You see, sometimes what looks to us like bread is actually a scorpion; and what looks like a scorpion is actually bread.
• Think of the cross: If there were ever anything that looked like a scorpion it was the cross. But that was the moment of our salvation!”

 

So the exciting news.  The mass in my breast was roughly the size of a tennis ball (or orange, if that’s easier to visualize) when we started this journey.  Pretty big.  The PA told me that when she measured me in the office three weeks ago (during chemo treatment #1), she measured it at approximately 5.5cm x 6cm.  That was our starting point.  Yesterday, it measured in at 3.5cm x 4cm (or like golf ball size). Fantastic, right?

But here’s the truly incredible news.  My oncologist, who is excellent at setting expectations, told me not to expect a difference when they did this first measurement.  He said what he most commonly sees is no noticeable change between chemo treatments #1 and #2.  Then, when a patient comes back in for chemo treatment #3, he often sees a measurable change.  He said it is almost like most cancers need a “double dose” of chemo before they really respond.  So the fact that mine is already responding is very, very exciting to us.  Praise God.  Please continue to ask our good, good Father to bring healing through these treatments.

Thank you, friends, for praying for a smooth week.  It had a few bumps in the road, but we praise God for this week!  Precious normality.

Last Saturday (Feb 17^th) was the first day I could call “good”.  Sunday was less so.  But then, an entire week of feeling pretty decent.  I described it as “a slightly sick, slightly lower energy version of myself.”  When you’re living one day at a time, a week is beautifully long.

I marveled this week at the gifts God gave us through the timing of my treatment.  My hair fell out during this good week, when I had the energy to embrace it and make lemonade out of lemons (more details to follow in another post).  My birthday was this week, and I enjoyed every moment.  The first half of the day was completely normal and uneventful; the type of day that would beckon the blues on other birthdays.  But this one was all joy.  I’m not sure how to describe it.

The interesting “effect” that has followed me into the good week has been emotional (and hormonal, perhaps?).  I have not cried every day on this journey, but those days when the tears start, watch out.  Sometimes they do not stop easily!

For example, we reached the end of my birthday, and I’d planned to open a few cards and presents before bed.  I read 3 cards and cried through every one, before realizing I was done.  I did not have the emotional energy to enjoy, process, and receive the kind things people say on your birthday.  I leaned my head over on my mom, and cried and cried while she held me.  So much emotion: Joy, my kids’ excitement about my birthday, phone calls from friends, a head shaving party, not liking my appearance, putting on my wig and a brave face and going out to celebrate anyways.  And then I must have reached the end.  I was absolutely drained.

Sleep is the only reset button too.  Once I’ve had an emotional event of some sort, I’m fairly drained until I go to bed.

Regardless, I’ve loved so much of this week!   Dropping off and picking up my kiddos at preschool each day.  Taking them to the park.  Inviting Abby to join the adults at my birthday dinner; she was beside herself.  Simply feeding Kai, rocking him,  playing with him, and putting him down for naps and bed.  I got up in the middle of the night with Nate last night.  No obvious issues, but I did the run-down before putting him back to bed: Tylenol in case of pain, banana & milk snack, diaper change.  I cherished every minute with him!  He was being so cute and funny, as only a toddler can.  Suddenly, I was not side-lined.  I was able and needed, and I enjoyed every moment before slipping him back in bed.

Last night, Gabe and I celebrated 10 years since our first date.  Since we met in Durham a decade ago, we always try to return, get a cup of coffee, and reminisce.  He wanted to drive the same car he picked me up in ten years ago, the same car we drove away from our wedding in, the one that brought our four kids home from the hospital.  Praise God she made it to Durham and back!  She’s over 20 years old now.  It was such a delightful evening for us.

Will and I had a “Mommy Son date” to Harris Teeter to pick up my steroid prescription today.  I take it the day before, day of, and day after my chemo treatments.  What a ball we had soaking in life!  He is such an animated, fun three year old.  I love when he or Abby reach up to hold Mommy’s hand in the parking lot to keep them safe.  I know that won’t last long enough!

Speaking of the steroid, that’s the only reason I’m up past midnight on the evening before chemo #2.  Every day this week, I’ve wanted to write an update.  But I certainly did not think it would be tonight!  Instead, I was hoping for a full night’s sleep.  After tossing and turning for an hour, taking half an Ambien, eating several high protein snacks, and enjoying listening to Gabe sleep peacefully, here I am.  I guess I’ll take another Ambien and lay perfectly still until I finally fall asleep.

Round 2 in the morning.  It’s been a precious break, but now, we’re back to work.  I have not been dreading it.  What I want is to be well; for God to bring healing.  Treatment may be the way He chooses to do that.  So I am ready.  It would be sadistic if I was looking forward to the side effects of the chemo.  I am not.  But I long for healing, and welcome any part of the journey that can potentially kill this cancer.  Thank you for continuing to pray for God to heal my body.

God is able, He is completely powerful and mighty.  We have no doubt that the God who raised Jairus’ daughter from the dead can bring healing in my body.  Gabe read Mark 9 to me tonight where Jesus cast out an unclean spirit that had afflicted a boy since childhood.  Instantly the pain of a desperate father who brought his boy to Jesus turned to joy!  We read this passage often because it embodies where we are:

Mark 9:21-24

Jesus asked the boy’s father, “How long has he been like this?”

“From childhood,” he answered. “It has often thrown him into fire or water to kill him. But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.”

“‘If you can’?” said Jesus. “Everything is possible for one who believes.”

Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”

Interesting enough, after Jesus drove out the unclean spirit, and told him not to return (I love that, and am asking that this cancer would not be allowed to return), the passage ends by his disciples asking him questions behind closed doors:

Mark 9:28-29

²⁸ After Jesus had gone indoors, his disciples asked him privately, “Why couldn’t we drive it out?”

²⁹ He replied, “This kind can come out only by prayer.^[a]”

We are learning on every side the importance, the absolute power, the necessity of prayer.  We are praying desperately, bolding, persistently, and trustingly that God would bring healing.  And we believe He will.  Thank you for praying with us.

I had the first chemo infusion on Monday, Feb 5^th.  After a rocky few weeks, I’m feeling pret-ty good today.  Thank goodness!

How’s it been?  To be honest, I was naïve.  Not that I thought chemo would be a walk in the park.  But I’m young, good attitude, not prone to pity parties.  I’ve got tremendous support.  But it has been a really difficult, rocky ride.

The first few days of feeling the effects were “flu bug meets stomach bug.”  I had no energy, almost no appetite, and difficulty drinking enough to stay well hydrated.  No details needed on the stomach bug part!  A few days into the chemo effects, I came down with a sinus infection, which I’m prone to when my immune system is lower.  Misery and more misery!

The helpful thing is knowing what to predict.  My oncologist told me to expect a rough Wednesday through Wednesday (and then to add an extra day onto that timeframe for each additional round of chemo).  And he was right on.  Wednesday was the first day I even thought of not taking the anti-nausea meds I’ve been given.  By Thursday, my appetite was returning.  If it was not for the sinus infection, which peaked Thursday evening, I may have been feeling fairly decent.

The chemo effects are strange.  My mouth was super sensitive, lips dry and cracked, nasal passages as dry as can be (I cannot remember the last nose-bleed I had before this).  My fingers began tingling.

My food preparation was fit for a one-year-old: completely bland, room temperature, tiny bites to fit into my mouth without disturbing my cracked lips.  I have patches of acne that would make any teenager jealous, and on some of the strangest places.  Right waist area?  When it spread to 30-40 large bumps, I finally called my doctor to make sure it was normal.  Side effects of the Perjeta, I was told.  Ok, no problem.

Thursday was rocky.  I was chilling tremendously for a few hours, and thought I may have a UTI.  Gabe and I drove over to the oncologist’s office to be checked out.  I was wearing a heavy winter coat on a warm day, and could not warm up.  Since a fever for a cancer patient is 100.4, I was positive I had one and was wondering what they do for patients who have “high fevers”.  Hospitalization?  I would not have been surprised with how I was feeling.  We asked our family to join us in praying that I would not have to be hospitalized.  Imagine my delight (although confusion!) when I had no temperature at all.  Praise God!  I was never more thrilled to get in the car to head back home.  I slept a few hours, and then slowly rallied around the kids’ bedtimes, so I could kiss them goodnight.  Sweet and precious to be home with Gabe and the kids, and to sleep in our own bed.

One thing I did not know about chemo is that you must be extremely careful eating anything raw (fruits, veggies, etc) during the week of feeling the chemo effects.  The reason is your inability to fight even small levels of normal bacteria during that “low time.”  Since I had almost no appetite anyway, it truly was not a tremendous sacrifice, but I was excited to eat a salad last night.  Oops again.  I am not prone to food poisoning, but had a reaction that strong and vicious.  Gabe’s guess is that the chemo has certainly affected my normal, healthy gut bacteria.  I had nothing to fight with.

What a gift to sleep well through the night last night, to wake up this morning feeling some energy, and to enjoy a rather uneventful day.  It’s the first time I’ve fed my sweet baby Kai, rocked him, and put him to bed in 2 weeks (partially because he was sick, and then I was sick).  I savored every moment.

Gabe gave some good perspective through it all.  He said, “Well, I hope the (chemo) medicine is wreaking as much havoc on the cancer as it is on you.”  Great thought.  I’ll take it.  We are praying for a smooth week leading up to Round 2 on February 26^th.  Thanks for joining us.