Cancer Musings (Radiation Dry Run)

Today I had an appointment with Radiation Oncology for something called a "dry run". The mapping was done a week ago, which allowed them to figure out exactly where on my body the radiation needed to be targeted. Markings were made on my body and several x-rays and measurements were taken that day. Today's appointment was for adjustments to the process and the final okay from the doctor that we were set to proceed with radiation treatment next week. 

This appointment was a bit awkward. The staff had a very precise job to do, and they were serious about it, which I respect, but they weren't very explanatory about it. I was asked not to move, which seemed to include talking or nodding my head. I was asked to hold my breath for 20-30 seconds at a time several times, but I wasn't sure why. I was in a very awkward position physically (undressed from the waist up with my arms above my head and holding onto a plastic bar). I felt exposed, vulnerable, and confused. Though I know it was not the intent of the staff helping me, I felt more like the object of a project  than a real live person. 

The appointment ended after about 30 minutes and I was given some vague instructions about what to expect when I returned for the first radiation treatment next week (where to change and where to wait, etc). I left that appointment feeling very emotional, and I was in tears. I was, however, relieved that I didn't actually experience radiation treatment today. 

I decided to stop at WalMart on the way home. Why? I'm not sure. I didn't need anything. I just wandered around for a bit trying to clear my head. 

When I stopped in an aisle to look at some clothes, I heard a man talking on the phone, loudly. It caught my attention and so did his voice. The man was several yards away from me, but I recognized him immediately. It was my brother. We haven't physically seen each other for a few months, so it took him a moment to figure out it was me since my physical appearance has changed a bit recently. We ended up standing in the far corner of the store, talking to each other, for quite some time. It was good to see him and very enjoyable to visit with him. God knew he was what I needed today. 

Unfortunately, in my enjoyment of the conversation with my brother, I did not pay attention to some of the physical clues my body was giving me. I had been standing in one spot for quite some time and I  started to feel lightheaded (an unfortunate side effect from chemo that still lingers). By the time I figured out what was happening and shortly after I uttered the words, "I need to sit down", it was too late. I fainted. In WalMart. 

My brother quickly recognized what was happening and had moved behind me to lower me to the floor. I was unconscious for about 30 seconds. I awakened to my brother yelling, "We need a wheelchair over here". A customer in the store rolled up on an electric cart and left it for us. My brother helped me onto it. Shortly after that, a store manager arrived to help us and brought me a bottle of water. She was very kind. When my brother explained my situation, the manager got teary eyed and explained that her mother had gone through chemo. She was very tender and very sweet. She hugged me. She offered to call an ambulance but I declined it since I was feeling much better. My brother called his wife who came and picked me up. She drove me home, and my brother drove my car home, for which I was very grateful.

I don't believe for a minute that anything that transpired today was an accident. I'm grateful God has all circumstances under his control and in His powerful hand and that He can be trusted. 

Cancer Musings (Radiation Mapping)

Today I had an appointment with Radiation Oncology to "map out" exactly where the radiation will be targeted on my body. This "mapping appointment" made sense to the medical staff setting up the appointment, and it made sense to the techs performing the procedure, but it didn't make a lot of sense to me.

I have learned along this cancer journey that medical staff make a lot of assumptions about what the patient is understanding about the procedure of the day. They have performed this particular procedure hundreds, maybe thousands of times before and know what to expect. 

In any appointment I attend, I'm told I can ask questions at any time, but I don't always know what to ask. For instance, never did it occur to me before this particular appointment began to ask if there would be any permanent marks made on my body as part of this "mapping" process. So, you may be able to imagine my surprise when during the procedure appointment I was told, "Now we'll do the tattooing" and "It's just a small needle, so you'll barely feel it." 

Shortly after the tattooing, I was told they would now put on the marks that would tell them where the "breathing box" was going to go. You might be asking, "What is a breathing box?" Me too. I'm still not sure. But, I was given the option of having the marks drawn on me with a permanent marker and covered with plastic tape (which I was told would be hard to remove and could be uncomfortable) or I could just have those marks tattooed on as well. This last decision paralyzed me in thought. I didn't know how to proceed. Thankfully, my indecision was a decision, and I was told they would use the marker and tape for now and I could change my mind about it later if so inclined. In the end, I was happy with my decision (or lack thereof) because the arrows they drew on my stomach and covered with tape were rather large. I would prefer those not to be permanent. 

In the end, clearly, I survived the appointment and lived to write about it. Each experience like this along the way continues to make me grateful that God is with me. He sees me, He knows me, and He helps me. It reminds me of the words that were said to Joshua in the Bible when he was given a task to do that was larger than mine, "Be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the LORD your God is with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1:9)

Cancer Musings (Surgery Pathology Results)

I (and my husband, Greg) met with my oncologist today to discuss the pathology report of the cancer/tumor that was removed during surgery a couple weeks ago and discuss the future treatment plan. 

To the praise of God, there is much good news in today's report. There was no cancer in the lymph nodes. The margins were negative (meaning there were no cancerous cells found at the edges of the tissue surrounding the tumor). There was a very good response to the chemo treatment, but it was not a complete response. The tumor shrunk from 14x9 mm to 4x2 mm. The cancerous area was completely removed with the surgery. 

The next course in treatment will be 4 weeks of radiation. Because it was not a complete response to the first two rounds of chemo and to lessen the chances of recurrence within 5 years, after radiation I will be treated with an oral (pill) course of chemo for six months. The oral drug is said to have less (and milder) side effects than the infused drugs. Time will tell on that one. 

As I close this post, I'll return to the quote I referenced when I first shared the news of cancer back in November.

In the infinite wisdom of the Lord of all the earth, each event falls with exact precision into its proper place in the unfolding of His divine plan. Nothing, however small, however strange, occurs without His ordering, or without its particular fitness for its place in the working out of His purpose; and the end of all shall be the manifestation of His glory, and the accumulation of His praise. --B.B. Warfield

I firmly believe that my current circumstances are not an accident and are being used by God for His purposes. He has my trust. 

Greg and I have made it a habit to take a picture at my oncology appointments. Here's the one from today. 

Cancer Musings (Eyelashes Fascination)

I have mentioned before that most people can grasp the concept that a person may lose the hair on their head as a side of effect of chemotherapy. But, many people do not realize that you can lose all of the hair on your body as a result of chemotherapy. You lose the hair on your head, arms, legs, etc., and you lose your eyelashes and eyebrows. I miss the eyelashes the most. They've been completely gone for a couple months.

About two weeks ago, I started to see little fuzzy eyelash stubs coming in, and I have been fascinated with the process ever since. I literally spend several minutes a day looking at my eyelashes in the mirror to see how much they've grown. My husband finds this to be a little weird, but I'm okay with that. He particularly finds it amusing that I'm amazed at how they all came in at the same time, the whole row of eyelashes, top and bottom. He said, "How did you think they would come in, one at a time?" I said, "That's how they left me, one at a time, so I wasn't sure how they would come back. This is my first time growing new eyelashes." 

I wouldn't have asked to lose my eyelashes, but I'm grateful to God that He's allowing me to witness a tiny part of how He created the body. It's amazing. God created our bodies to be resilient, and of all the lessons that chemo has taught me, I'm enjoying that one the most. 

Cancer Musings (Return to Work)

I have had two weeks off of work to recover from surgery. Thanks be to God, I have recovered well, and I'm feeling well and energetic again. I've never taken more than a week  and a half off of work (for vacation or otherwise) in the 22 years I've been at this company, so it was a new experience for me. 

Through this entire journey, I have been grateful to God for my employer (I work at a medical clinic, training employees how to use our computer system). Administration and fellow coworkers have been so kind, caring, and supportive. I was afforded the luxury of having a temporary employee hired for the two weeks I was away. It was someone who knew my job and did it very well in my absence. This made my return to work today so much easier. 

Though working full time through cancer and treatment has not been an easy road, I do not regret the decision to do so. I have seen a very kind side of humanity through this experience. Our church has recently challenged us to learn a different verse from each book of the Bible every week. Our first verse to memorize was Genesis 1:27, which reminds us that God created human beings, and He created them in His own image. I see that evidence in the people at my work, and I'm grateful for the reminder. 

Cancer Musings (Telling My Head What to Think)

I've found that these days it is best for me to tell my head what to think and not let my thoughts wander to every worry and possible outcome that comes my way through the information overload that is the cancer journey. 

A few ways that I inform my mind with right thinking is by reading the Bible every day and by reading books and listening to music that keep me grounded in who God is. 

I haven't read many new books during this time, but I have returned to classics I've read through the years that are tried and true and always spur me on to right thinking about God and circumstances in the middle of trials and suffering. I've listed three books below that are on that list, and I've shared links to them (by clicking on the title) if you're interested in checking them out further: 

1. Keep a Quiet Heart by Elisabeth Elliot 

• Elisabeth Elliot was a missionary in Ecuador in the early 1950's whose husband was murdered while attempting to make contact with members of the Auca/Waodani tribe. She went on to write many books over the years about suffering, the trustworthiness of God, and the blessing of obedience to Him. Keep a Quiet Heart is one of my favorites, and I've read it several times. It is a collection of essays she wrote in her monthly newsletters over a period of many years. I think the title of the book is aptly named. In it she points readers toward a deeper, more fulfilling, and restful walk with God. 

2. 31 Days of Praise by Ruth Myers

• Ruth Myers and her husband, Warren, wrote this book. It leads the reader through a month of praising God through a prayer everyday highlighting His goodness and thanking him for it. A friend of mine gave me this book in 2009, and I have returned to it many times over the years. My copy is highlighted, underlined, dogeared, and written in. 

3. A Grace Disguised by Jerry Sittser

• This book was written in 1995 by Jerry Sittser a Christian college professor who lost his wife, mother, and 4-year-old daughter in a tragic car accident on the same day, leaving him to raise his three remaining children (8, 7, and 2 years old) on his own. I first came across this book shortly after my parents moved in with us. A line from this book was quoted in a book I was reading about caregiving at the time and it intrigued me, causing me to purchase the book. 
• The subtitle of the book is "The Soul That Grows Through Loss", and that is really the focus of the book, catastrophic loss. We all experience losses in life in may different ways whether it be through the death of a loved one, a divorce, illness to one's own body, or myriad other ways. How we process and move through loss makes all the difference. This author processes his loss in an honest, raw, and open way while always focusing on God. It's one of the best books I've ever read. I've returned to it many times over the past 8 years. I've read it at least 10 times, and I'm reading it again during this season of cancer. 

One song that has come to my mind continually during this journey is "God Leads Us Along" written by George Young in 1903. It speaks to the many different seasons of life that God leads us through and stays with us through. It also speaks to the fact that we don't all experience the same trials and hardships or the same joys and pleasures, but we come to salvation in Christ the same way, only through His shed blood on the cross. The words of the song are a comfort to me, and the melody is beautiful. I've listed the words to the verses and chorus below and added a link to the song below that. 

Verse 1: Thru shady green pastures so rich and so sweet, God leads his dear children along

Where the waters' cool flow bathes the weary one's feet, God leads his dear children along

Verse 2: Sometimes on the mount where the sun shines so bright, God leads his dear children along

Sometimes in the valley in the darkest of night, God leads his dear children along

Verse 3:Though sorrows befall us and evils oppose, God leads his dear children along

Thru grace we can conquer, defeat all our foes, God leads his dear children along

Chorus: 

Some thru the waters, some thru the flood

Some thru the fire, but all through the blood

Some thru great sorrows, but God gives a song

In the night season and all the day long

Cancer Musings (Surgery Day)

Today was the long anticipated surgery day. Greg and I arrived at the hospital at 7:00 am. Surgery was scheduled for 9:30. 

All the way through this cancer journey, there have been little surprise pieces of information that you have no choice but to process in real time and move forward or completely shut down the appointment. One of those surprises came this morning. There was this mystery appointment on the schedule this morning, a procedure before the procedure if you will, that was being called a lymph node injection. After they got me prepped and ready for the surgery, they wheeled my bed down to the area where this appointment was taking place, "Nuc Med" as it was called (that should have been my first clue). Right before the tech was about to do the injection, he said, "We're just going to inject a tiny bit of radioactive material into you so that the surgeon can locate the right lymph nodes."  My mind did get stuck on the words "radioactive material" for just a few seconds. That's when my mind processed and moved on. I didn't feel I was in the best position to get up and run down the hall and out the door at that particular moment in time.

After the injection procedure was done and my bed was wheeled back to the room, Greg was brought back there to sit with me until I was taken to surgery. Shortly, after they brought him back, we had a surprise visit from my friend Kim who was able to come back to the room and sit with us until I was taken to surgery, which didn't end up being until after 11:00. It was nice to have her there. She stayed with Greg in the waiting room while I was in surgery too. 

I spoke with the surgeon before the surgery and she said that I had already been through the hardest part, chemo. She said many people don't make it all the way through chemo because it's too tough on their bodies and they aren't able to tolerate it. That's another thing I'm glad I didn't know before this whole journey began.

The surgery went well. They removed the cancerous area and two lymph nodes. We left the hospital by 3:30. I am, of course, sore this evening but the pain is manageable. 

This is the official report from the surgeon to Greg: "The initial pathology results indicate no cancer cells, only scar tissue where the cancer once had been. She is 95% confident that I am cancer free with the initial testing, but they will test every cell removed in order to get a fully confident verdict. So far, it looks good."

I meet with the oncologist on June 19 to go over the pathology report with her and get the final results. If the final results show that there was a complete response to treatment, and the cancer is gone, I will proceed with radiation treatment for 4 weeks. I praise God for the successful surgery and this encouraging initial report. He has been faithful every step of the way, no matter the news from the medical team or the side effects. 

I will be out of work for two weeks now recuperating from the surgery. I am very appreciative of all the prayers and encouragement I have been receiving from family, friends, and coworkers. Thank you all.