Hope.....closer than it appears!

Weeping may remain for a night...

Beauty Will Rise
         - Steven Curtis Chapman

It was the day the world went wrong
I screamed till my voice was gone
And watched through the tears
As everything came crashing down

Slowly panic turns to pain
As we awake to what remains
And sift through the ashes that are left behind
But buried deep beneath
All our broken dreams
We have this hope

Out of these ashes beauty will rise
We will dance among the ruins
We will see it with our own eyes
Out of these ashes beauty will rise
For we know joy is coming in the morning
In the morning beauty will rise

So take another breath for now
Let the tears come washing down
If you can't believe, I will believe with you
Cuz I have seen the signs of spring

Because out of these ashes beauty will rise
We will dance among the ruins
We will see it with our own eyes
Out of these ashes beauty will rise
For we know joy is coming in the morning
In the morning

I can hear it in the distance
And its not too far away
Its the music and the laughter
of a wedding and a feast
I can almost feel the hand of God
Reaching for my face
To wipe the tears away
Say its time to make everything new
Make it all new

This is our hope
This is a promise
This is our hope
This is a promise
It will take our breath away
To see the beauty that's been made
Out of the ashes, out of the ashes
It will take our breath away
To see the beauty that He's made
Out of these ashes, Out of these ashes

Out of these ashes beauty will rise
We will dance among the ruins
We will see it with our own eyes

Out of this darkness new light will shine

And we'll know the joy that's coming in the morning

 

Psalm 30:5

One Year Ago...

On July 29, 2009, I heard the horrible words “I'm sorry, but you have cancer.” I still expect to wake up to discover that this is all just a bad (and very long) dream. I didn't know how I was "supposed" be feel about my diagnosis by now, so I decided to re-read my older posts. Not long after starting to read, I questioned my wisdom in doing so.  Did I really want to be reminded of those early days?  I continued reading and soon came to the realization that I've come a long way (physically and emotionally) in a relatively short period of time.  Isn't it true that we often don't realize where we are until we're reminded of where we've been?

“I feel keenly aware of how precious and fleeting life is,

and I hope I will never forget what the experience has taught me....

who I am, who I want to be, who I can never be again.

It was a hard time, but I'd rather have the really hard stuff

than to never know what I know now.”

-Sheryl Crow

I've recovered from January's surgery and from the subsequent radiation treatments.   Life started to return to normal and I was finally to the point where the first thought that popped into my mind in the mornings did not always involve the word “cancer.” Unfortunately, I was only able to enjoy this feeling for about a month before hitting what my doctor describes as “a little bump in the road.”

I have blood drawn monthly to test for something called a "tumor marker." The tumor marker that we're following in my case is “CA 27.29.”  It's a protein that some breast cancer cells produce and shed into the bloodstream. If tumor markers decrease, it is a good sign that the cancer is responding to the therapy. An increase can be, but is not always, worrisome. It may indicate that the cancer is resisting treatment, but there are also other non-cancerous diseases that can cause the test results to vary.  Link to "Tumor Markers: Q&A"

In February, my tumor markers were completely normal for the first time. (Hooray!) May's blood test showed a slight increase in the markers and there was an increase again in June. Given that the markers were up for two months in a row, we decided that a PET scan was in order to see what was happening.  Link for information on the PET scan process

On a positive note, the scan showed that all of the original lesions are showing inactive. (Hooray!) I went from having lesions that were “too numerous to count” to being inactive in less than a year. One concern is that there is one small active lesion that has appeared in my liver. I started with multiple spots in my liver, but this one doesn't show on any prior scans and seems to be new. The assumption is that this is a new cancer lesion that, for some reason, is not responding to treatment. There's a slight chance that it could be something completely unrelated, but that's pretty unlikely given my situation.

So, what do we do now? We've changed my medication and will re-scan again in September. My oncologist is very optimistic and is expecting to see a completely clear scan by then. I had to delay my second surgery because of radiation therapy, but it's finally been scheduled for early August.   I met with my integrative care physician (who, by the way, is absolutely awesome) to continue to work on diet and nutrition. I am very encouraged to hear that he thinks I'm doing all of the right things....I've drastically changed my diet, increased my physical activity, and practically eliminated my exposure to the chemicals found in household cleaning and personal care products.

Despite the medical distractions, this has been an amazing year.  Anyone who knows my children will tell you that we don't have much “down time” in our household. Aaron had a fabulous year in kindergarten and Alex loved second grade. The school year flew by so quickly!!  The boys remain very active in Taekwondo. Alex worked very hard this year and earned his Black Belt in June.  What a huge accomplishment for an 8 year old. (I'm such a proud mama!)  Aaron is following in his big brother's footsteps and will most likely earn his Black Belt in the Spring. We had our first family trip to Hershey Park a few weeks ago and are getting ready for a camping trip soon.  The boys are both having a blast at summer camp and have actually come home tired on more than one occasion. If they were tired, I can't imagine how the camp leaders must have felt!?!

Oh, did I mention that we're building a new house and moving next month?   Like I said....not much “down time” in our household!!

EWG's Shopper's Guide to Pesticides | Environmental Working Group

Link:  EWG's Shopper's Guide to Pesticides | Environmental Working Group

The Story of the Butterfly (Author Unknown)

A man found a cocoon of a butterfly.  One day a small opening appeared.  He sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to squeeze its body through the tiny hole. 

Then it stopped, as if it couldn’t go further.  So the man decided to help the butterfly.  He took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bits of cocoon.  The butterfly emerged easily but it had a swollen body and shriveled wings. 

The man continued to watch it,  expecting that any minute the wings would enlarge and expand enough to support the body,  Neither happened!  In fact the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around. It was never able to fly.

What the man in his kindness and haste did not understand: The restricting cocoon and the struggle required by the butterfly to get through the opening was a way of forcing the fluid from the body into the wings so that it would be ready  for flight once that was achieved.

Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our lives. Going through life with no obstacles would cripple us.  We would not be as strong as we could have been and we would never fly!!

“Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.”   (James 1:2-4)

“Today really is the first

day of the rest of your

life and in this moment

you can begin to

make it magnificent.”

- J. Sewell Perkins

Radiation treatment is like something out of a Science Fiction Movie!

I just realized how long it's been since I posted anything. I've healed well from January's surgery and am looking forward to the rest of my reconstruction that will be completed in June.

My latest PET scan results were awesome! All of the cancer is gone except for one small spot on my spine....and even that one spot has been downgraded from “moderate” to “mild and stable.”

I started Radiation treatments this week at Ephrata Cancer Center. It's closer than driving to Hershey every day and I have exactly the same treatment plan as I would have had at Hershey. The doctor's and nurses are great and I really appreciate their kindness and their sense of humor. The Center is affiliated with Thomas Jefferson University Hospital in Philadelphia and I'm thankful to have been able to add them to my medical team.

My Oncologist explained that the treatment targets any micrscopic cancer cells that may have been left behind after surgery and may cut my chances for a recurrence down from 30% to 5-10%....pretty darn good odds, if you ask me! Treatments will be every weekday until April 28. I've had four treatment so far and am starting to settle into the daily routine. I'm reminded every day of how blessed I am to be able to work from home. I don't know how I could keep up with this schedule if I had to spend my days in a cubicle.

My Radiation Oncologist at Ephrata is named Dr. Lambo. Of course, the very first image that this conjured up for me was one of Sylvester Stallone's action scenes from “Rambo.” (just for the record, Dr. Lambo looks absolutely NOTHING like Sylvester Stallone) I pushed this image to the back of my mind so that I could concentrate on Dr. Lambo's explanation of what expect during treatment.

I came home and started to mentally prepare for the upcoming treatment. I remembered a book that I had read about visualization techniques and how some techniques may help improve the effectiveness of treatments. One person visualized "An army of white blood cells coming, attacking, and overcoming the cancer." Another pictured "Cancer as small, easily squashed creatures being lanced by white knights on horses.” One of the more amusing ones was "Take a sick limp cancer cell and gently carry it in my arms. I walk through the meadow where the wildflowers are blooming. Birds are chirping and Bambi is leaping along side at the edge of the forest clearing. We come to the edge of a cliff, where...I drop it."    Bambi...seriously?

As I laid there on the table for my first Radiation treatment, alone in the room, I decided that it was time to come up with my own visualization technique. (I bet you can guess where this is headed, huh?) Dr. Lambo was at the control panel in the other room, the Radiation machine started whirring like something out of a Science Fiction movie, the “Beam On” light started to flash, the warning alarm started beeping.... I closed my eyes and all I could picture was Sylvester Stallone (in all of his muscular glory) aiming his laser gun and firing at any remaining microscopic cancer cells. Yes, of all the visualization techniques, this is what I came up with.

The nurses were very amused today when they heard me making laser noises during treatment. Someday I'll explain it to them, but for now it's something that's just between me and Sly.

"Blessed be the Lord my Rock, who trains my hands for war, and
my fingers for battle - my lovingkindness and my fortress,
my high tower and my deliverer,
my shield and the One in whom I take refuge,
who subdues my people under me."
(Psalm 144:1)

Surgery, Pink Socks, and a Shot of Whiskey...

The morning of surgery was uneventful. My surgery was scheduled for noon, but I had to arrive by 8:00 for the pre-op testing. First, I was injected with a radioactive dye that would help the surgeons identify my lymph nodes. Then, I had to lay under a scanning machine for an hour to allow the dye time to disperse. Once it was determined that the dye was working, I was sent upstairs to the tiny little room where I would stay until surgery.

The nurse handed me a hospital gown and the most awful slippers I had ever seen. I obediently changed into the gown, but couldn't bring myself to wear the slippers. Someone had given me pink fuzzy socks the day before and I was determined to wear them for as long as possible. Every time the nurse would come in to check on me, I would hide my feet under the blanket.

It was finally time! The anesthesiologist came in to give me my first dose of anesthesia at 1:00. He had a great sense of humor and made a joke about the injection being the same as drinking a glass of wine. Well, as far as I was concerned at that point, the joke was on him because I had a secret......I was still wearing my pink fuzzy socks!

I was a little overwhelmed when I was wheeled into the operating room because there were at least twenty people in the room. A wonderful young resident named “Emily” had taken the time to introduce herself to me while I was in the tiny pre-op room and it was reassuring to see her smiling face in the crowd.

More jokes from the anesthesiologist about the “glass of wine” and he compared the next dose of anesthesia to a shot of whiskey. The last thing I remember saying aloud was something about being "a cheap date once the whiskey starts flowing” ….and the last thing that I remember thinking was “ha ha, I'm still wearing my pink fuzzy socks!”

Rich settled into the waiting room for what he thought was going to be a 3-4 hour surgery. He had brought along some movies to watch on his laptop, a book to read, and there was a Starbucks in the waiting room – what more could he need? There was a display screen in the room where he could track my progress using the patient ID number that I had been assigned earlier that morning. Seven hours later there were only two of us still in surgery. By the time one of the surgeons finally came out to tell him it was over, 7 ½ hours had passed. Everything had gone well, it had just taken longer than anyone had anticipated. I briefly woke up in recovery at 8:30, but was quickly given a dose of morphine and drifted back into my whiskey-induced sleep.

I woke up at midnight and the only thing that I could think was how badly I needed to go to the bathroom. I was still a bit wobbly from the anesthesia so Rich & the nurse had to help me walk down the hall. Imagine my surprise when I saw that my urine was bright blue!!! Remember the dye that I had been given earlier in the day? Nobody mentioned to me that the dye was blue...bright blue! It was quite alarming – even in my morphine haze.

The night passed quickly and before I knew it, it was 8:30 in the morning and Rich was wheeling me out of the room towards the car....and I was still wearing my pink fuzzy socks.   A quick stop at the pharmacy to pick up some pain meds and we were home by 10:30. I remember thinking.....did all of this really just happen?

I stayed on the pain meds until Monday morning, but they were making me nauseous, so I switched to Aleve and Tylenol for the rest of the week. I was surprised at how well I was feeling and was able to return to work after just a week. (an advantage of telecommuting) My family and I were blessed by many friends who provided meals, some came over to keep me company when Rich went back to work, and some even came to take me out for a drive when I started to go a little stir-crazy.   Thank you all for your encouragement, prayers, and support. I have been blessed beyond belief by the outpouring of kindness!

My first follow-up appointment with the surgeons went well and the pathology report came back with no surprises. The total mass of the two tumors measured 3cm. Twenty-four of my lymph nodes were removed, but only THREE of them had cancer cells in them. (Praise!) The surgical oncologist said that she could tell that the lymph nodes have been responding to treatment.   The majority of my recovery from surgery will take about three months, but I'll see the surgeons regularly for at least a year.

At Hershey Med, they hold inter-disciplinary meetings each month where all of the surgeons, doctors, oncologists, and radiologists review their cancer cases together. My case has been reviewed twice since July and will be reviewed again sometime in the upcoming weeks. As a team, they will determine if it's best that I continue with my current treatment plan or if I would benefit from Radiation treatment. In the meantime, I'll continue with the hormone therapy and the monthly bone treatment infusions. It's so reassuring to know that the entire team is reviewing my case and making a joint recommendation for treatment.

So.......what's the next step?  I have a PET scan this Friday at 7:15 am. The first scan showed significant improvement and I am very hopeful that this next scan shows even more.   Hmmmmm....maybe I'll wear my pink fuzzy socks?

Fearfully and wonderfully made...

The day before surgery was very busy – tying up loose ends at work, last minute house cleaning & laundry, grocery shopping, and a myriad of other little tasks that I was compelled to cross off my “to do” list. (For those of you who know me well, you know how much I rely on my “to do” list.)

By mid-evening, I had everything in order and it was time to relax. Relax? Are you kidding me? As soon as I sat down, my mind started racing into overload mode with every “what-if” situation I could conjure up. I tried reading, but couldn't concentrate. I tried watching TV, but even that couldn't distract me from my own thoughts. I opened my Bible in search of something, but I didn't know what. I went to the usual passages about strength & courage, but they didn't bring the contentment that they usually did. While randomly flipping through the pages, I stumbled across a passage that I had marked. I don't remember when I had underlined the verses in Psalm 139, but that night the blue markings of my pen caught my attention.

“O LORD, you have searched me and you know me.

You know when I sit and when I rise;

you perceive my thoughts from afar.

You discern my going out and my lying down;

you are familiar with all my ways.

Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O LORD.

You hem me in—behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.

Where can I go from your Spirit?

Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.

If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,"

even the darkness will not be dark to you;

the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.

For you created my inmost being;

you knit me together in my mother's womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.

When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,

your eyes saw my unformed body.

All the days ordained for me were written in your book

before one of them came to be.”

~Psalm 139

That was it! “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made!” I have heard this verse hundreds of times, but it had never meant as much to me as it did that night. I felt that this verse was penned specifically for me! John Piper wrote “If God foresees molecular developments becoming cancer, he can stop it or not. If he does not, he has a purpose. Since he is infinitely wise, it is right to call this purpose a design.” This was the verse that I needed to calm my thoughts. I slept surprisingly well and woke ready to face the day. Amazing!

Don't Waste Your Cancer!

A good friend of mine shared this article with me and I can't seem to stop thinking about it so I thought I would share it here.  We are all facing our own challenges - some are small and easily conquered, but many are so big that they completely consume and overwhelm.  I challenge you to replace the word "cancer" with whatever challenge you are facing right now.  I'd love to hear your comments about the article when you're finished reading it.

Don’t Waste Your Cancer
Written by John Piper on the eve of his prostate surgery

1.  You will waste your cancer if you do not believe it is designed for you by God.

It will not do to say that God only uses our cancer but does not design it. What God permits, he permits for a reason. And that reason is his design. If God foresees molecular developments becoming cancer, he can stop it or not. If he does not, he has a purpose. Since he is infinitely wise, it is right to call this purpose a design.



2.  You will waste your cancer if you believe it is a curse and not a gift.

“The LORD God is a sun and shield; the LORD bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly” (Psalm 84:11).


3.  You will waste your cancer if you seek comfort from your odds rather than from God.

The design of God in your cancer is not to train you in the rationalistic, human calculation of odds. The world gets comfort from their odds. Not Christians. Some count their chariots (percentages of survival) and some count their horses (side effects of treatment), but we trust in the name of the LORD our God (Psalm 20:7). God’s design is clear from 2 Corinthians 1:9, “We felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead.” The aim of God in your cancer (among a thousand other good things) is to knock props out from under our hearts so that we rely utterly on him.



4.  You will waste your cancer if you refuse to think about death.

We will all die, if Jesus postpones his return. Not to think about what it will be like to leave this life and meet God is folly. Ecclesiastes 7:2 says, “It is better to go to the house of mourning [a funeral] than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart.” How can you lay it to heart if you won’t think about it? Psalm 90:12 says, “Teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” Numbering your days means thinking about how few there are and that they will end. How will you get a heart of wisdom if you refuse to think about this? What a waste, if we do not think about death.



5.  You will waste your cancer if you think that “beating” cancer means staying alive rather than cherishing Christ.  

Satan’s and God’s designs in your cancer are not the same. Satan designs to destroy your love for Christ. God designs to deepen your love for Christ. Cancer does not win if you die. It wins if you fail to cherish Christ. God’s design is to wean you off the breast of the world and feast you on the sufficiency of Christ. It is meant to help you say and feel, “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” And to know that therefore, “To live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Philippians 3:8; 1:21).



6.  You will waste your cancer if you spend too much time reading about cancer and not enough time reading about God.   (boy, this one hit close to home!)

It is not wrong to know about cancer. Ignorance is not a virtue. But the lure to know more and more and the lack of zeal to know God more and more is symptomatic of unbelief. Cancer is meant to waken us to the reality of God. It is meant to put feeling and force behind the command, “Let us know; let us press on to know the LORD” (Hosea 6:3). It is meant to waken us to the truth of Daniel 11:32, “The people who know their God shall stand firm and take action.” It is meant to make unshakable, indestructible oak trees out of us: “His delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers” (Psalm 1:2). What a waste of cancer if we read day and night about cancer and not about God.



7.  You will waste your cancer if you let it drive you into solitude instead of deepen your relationships with manifest affection.

When Epaphroditus brought the gifts to Paul sent by the Philippian church he became ill and almost died. Paul tells the Philippians, “He has been longing for you all and has been distressed because you heard that he was ill” (Philippians 2:26-27). What an amazing response! It does not say they were distressed that he was ill, but that he was distressed because they heard he was ill. That is the kind of heart God is aiming to create with cancer: a deeply affectionate, caring heart for people. Don’t waste your cancer by retreating into yourself.



8.  You will waste your cancer if you grieve as those who have no hope.

Paul used this phrase in relation to those whose loved ones had died: “We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13). There is a grief at death. Even for the believer who dies, there is temporary loss—loss of body, and loss of loved ones here, and loss of earthly ministry. But the grief is different—it is permeated with hope. “We would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8). Don’t waste your cancer grieving as those who don’t have this hope.



9.  You will waste your cancer if you treat sin as casually as before.

Are your besetting sins as attractive as they were before you had cancer? If so you are wasting your cancer. Cancer is designed to destroy the appetite for sin. Pride, greed, lust, hatred, unforgiveness, impatience, laziness, procrastination—all these are the adversaries that cancer is meant to attack. Don’t just think of battling against cancer. Also think of battling with cancer. All these things are worse enemies than cancer. Don’t waste the power of cancer to crush these foes. Let the presence of eternity make the sins of time look as futile as they really are. “What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself?” (Luke 9:25).



10.  You will waste your cancer if you fail to use it as a means of witness to the truth and glory of Christ.

Christians are never anywhere by divine accident. There are reasons for why we wind up where we do. Consider what Jesus said about painful, unplanned circumstances: “They will lay their hands on you and persecute you, delivering you up to the synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors for my name’s sake. This will be your opportunity to bear witness” (Luke 21:12 -13). So it is with cancer. This will be an opportunity to bear witness. Christ is infinitely worthy. Here is a golden opportunity to show that he is worth more than life. Don’t waste it.


“My God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus”

(Philippians 4:19).

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
John Piper has been the Pastor for Preaching at Bethlehem Baptist Church in Minneapolis, Minnesota, since 1980. He has authored numerous best-selling books, including The Passion of Jesus Christ, Don't Waste Your Life and Desiring God. You will find 25 years of online sermons, articles and other God-centered resources from the ministry of John Piper at www.desiringgod.org. He also has a daily radio program, called "Desiring God," which can be accessed online at www.desiringGod.org/radio.

"Life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans" -John Lennon

The whirlwind of doctor's appointments are over (for now) and I've scheduled surgery for later this month. At the recommendation of my medical team, I'll be having a single mastectomy. It's expected that I'll only have to spend one night in the hospital and the surgeon says that I should “feel like my normal self” within a week or two. I'll be out of work for a bit, but I am optimistic for a speedy recovery. Thankfully, surgery won't interfere with my regular monthly treatments.

At my last oncologist appointment, Dr. Cream walked into the room and the first thing that I noticed was that she is pregnant. My first thought was “oh no, she's pregnant, doesn't she know that I need her every month?” She must be able to read my mind (either that, or the panicked look on my face gave away my thoughts) because she immediately started to tell me her plan. (Yes, she knows me well enough by now to know how much I like having a plan.) Her baby is due in early March, so we scheduled my next PET scan in late February. She plans to review my scan, have her baby, enjoy a few weeks of maternity leave, and be back before my next appointment....

….and it's right about here that I need to stop myself and remember that whatever plan I may have for my life is inconsequential compared to what God has in store for me. Only He can see what's ahead of me and only He knows what's best for me. For all of my searching, the details of His plan remain a mystery. Could it be that He wants me to be content to simply know that He has one and to trust that it is a good one?

“When you can think of yesterday without regret

and tomorrow without fear, you are near contentment.”

-Source Unknown