A Huge Answer To Prayer!

My doctor just called and my bone marrow is cancer free! God has been so faithful in this journey so far. Please keep praying that chemo does its job mightily and that I keep my head up during this difficult time.

Radiation Oncologist Meet & Greet

Ok, so "meet and greet" is a bit too warm of a term for my appointment today. For some reason I had to have a consult with a radiation oncologist even though I won't be doing radiation for at least four months. And it's a bummer to say that I can't shake the dose of reality he had to dish out to me today. When I met with my regular oncologist, I left feeling so optimistic. Today, I learned where every single enlarged lymph node is (I forgot to tell him ahead of time that I don't want the details), what lasting effect radiation will have on my body (reduced lung capacity and possible heart issues later in life) and the nasty side effects I will have during my course of treatment (thick saliva that can cause cavities and a sore throat that will make eating hard, among other things). He let me know that radiation is an option, not something I have to do - it basically just cleans up what chemo may leave behind. Assuming I don't have cancer in my bone marrow, it will be 17 daily treatments - a little over three weeks. At any rate, please feel free to leave encouraging comments or verses as that is exactly what I need today.

Whew!

I am blogging from the couch this Thanksgiving morn because the chemo has decided to take a real hit to my stomach - even on the anti-nausea meds. You know every year I fear that I will have the stomach flu on Thanksgiving and not have a normal day. Its amazing now how petty fears like that are. Chances are that I won't feel up to being around food today and yet I am still grateful. You know why? Because if this chemo is killing off my stomach cells, then it's also killing off my cancer cells, getting me that much closer to a cure. I read in my Bible a couple days ago about casting my anxieties on God and leaving them there. I have to say the Lord has blessed me with an otherworldly peace in this whole situation and for that I am so grateful!

I hope you all eat tons of food today and look around noting all the amazing things to be thankful for!

Today's Chemo

Just popping in to say that I survived today's chemo infusion. I sat across from an older couple that sadly struggled with chemo and could only do three rounds in three months. I had a litany of side effects rattled off to me that I could endure over the next 5 days - things like nausea, red urine (not blood, just the chemical coming out), fatigue, flu like symptoms, low white blood cell counts that could require shots that will cause bone pain, ending up in the hospital from a simple infection (which is why we will be not going to many places as long as I am undergoing treatment) and neuropathy in hands and feet. Oh, and don't forget hair loss. So far today I have been faithfully taking my Tylenol and paired with prayer, I am warding off the fever and flu like symptoms that can occur the first 24 hours. I have about four or five anti-nausea meds, so hopefully I am covered there. Today was a good day. I might not be saying that for the rest of the week, but I am praying that I can feel decent these next few days and the meds work well on my system.

A very positive note: both the nurse and pharmacist said this is curable, not just treatable. Like 99% curable. And for that, I praise the Lord. What a "good" cancer to have!

Today's Bone Marrow Biopsy

I have to say that today was another rough day. I didn't get enough sleep last night (thank you Mr. Abe) and I drank too much strong coffee this morning. Pair that with bundles of nerves over today's procedure and it just wasn't pretty. Colin had to keep asking if I was ok. I just kept thinking about a drill going into my bone. I asked over and over that the Lord calm me, but I think I couldn't even think straight enough to really focus on those prayers. My time came in the biopsy room and they asked if I premedicated. What? Apparently there were prescriptions waiting for me which Colin ran and filled - as a side note, I love that in Oncology, you get the lab/pharmacy/clinic all together in one - so convenient! So, when I discovered that not only did they offer me Valium, they also offered me morphine. It was at that point I realized what kind of pain we were dealing with. My doctor said that most people take both pills for this procedure, but I knew I didn't want to spend the rest of the day sick to my stomach, so I just took the Valium. Let's just say the Valium didn't start working until I was leaving the clinic, about 45 minutes later. It didn't help me AT ALL. So, I got to feel every portion of that horrifying procedure. She first took many Lydocain needles and put them near and in my hip bone. Painful? Yes. But that's nothing. Then she put the needle in and the amount of pressure was unbelievable. The pressure would then change to stabbing pain and she would have to pull out and add more Lydocain to the bone. That happened multiple times. Then she went into the marrow, but not before telling me to count to three and breath. At this point I am sweating with pain and holding Colin's finger so tight it is leaving marks. The bone marrow should never be tapped, that's for sure. I gasped in pain. Then she had to pull out (painful as well) and go back in for a solid bone sample. She took a tube and twisted down into my bone and grabbed a piece. But once she examined it, she realized it was too small. So she had to do it again. More sweating and at this point I am on the verge of tears. I feel bad for her that I didn't take pain meds because she kept apologizing and telling me how good I was doing. Finally the procedure was over and I have been enjoying (not at all) the effects of Valium. Super sleepy, my thoughts come slower. I don't know why people like taking that!

At any rate, I had a very sweet girl bring me the perfect New Seasons bag of goodies for dinner - roast chicken, sauteed green beans, wild rice, gluten free granola, hemp milk, almond milk, pumpkin seeds, soups and fruit. It's just what I needed after a day like today.

Tomorrow I start chemo and I think after today, I can conquer anything. That, and I am so ready to rid my body of this cancer. I feel like the last month has been a marathon of scans, tests, worry, prayer, more tests and finally I have earned the right to my first healing treatment. I also finally got the guts up to look at my blood tests and they actually weren't that scary. The inflammation is the lowest it's been in months and I can only attribute that to my diet.

Specific prayer request - please be praying that my chemo will go smoothly tomorrow (9 a.m.) and my body will accept it. Let it begin killing off those cancer cells immediately!

A Visit to the Naturopath

I paid a visit to my naturopath a couple of days ago to get my "pathways moving" as he put it. Basically, he will be helping my liver and entire system get rid of the cell death that chemo leaves behind and the body doesn't know what to do with. One thing that is so noticeable about having cancer is how people treat you. Before when I would visit him, it would be very clinical and professional. This time there was some puppy dog eyes, lots more comforting touches and "how are you doing?" in that sympathetic voice. I have to say it is nicer to see the softer side of people. What wasn't nice? How he told me chemo blows up cells, leaving debris everywhere. Apparently that's what makes people sick. I have a two page handout on the things I will be doing to help my body cope with the assault chemo will put on it. I will be be doing dry loofah rubs, drinking lemon water (for digestion), juicing (which ensures I get protein and all my nutrients in one drink), eating simple, easily digested food so my body can concentrate on elimination and not digestion, doing castor oil packs over my liver, moving 30 minutes a day and of course my homeopathic drops for my liver. My poor liver. I think it's already angry at the lack of lymph node activity. I can't even bear to look at my most recent lab tests because I think they would scare me. I did glimpse very quickly (the kind where you hold your hand over your eyes, but spread your fingers so you can barely see) at my bilirubin levels and they are through the roof. Ugh.

My bone marrow biopsy is on Monday and I really don't want to take the Valium, but I think I have to. I just found out they use some sort of drill and that makes me a bit queasy. Again, please be praying my bone marrow is clean. That would make chemo much shorter.

I'm Laughing This Morning

Every morning I try to read the daily excerpt from "Streams in the Desert" and do an entry in my prayer journal. This morning I was reading from Mark 35-40 and giggled that James and John asked for Jesus to do them a favor - just for them to sit as his right and left hand in heaven. Talk about coming boldly before the Lord! And Jesus replied that those places are not his to give. After laughing, though, I have to ask myself what the lesson is here. Do I come boldly before God like that? I think I do. I've asked for a lot in prayer these last few weeks and after reading this story, I will continue to do so =).

Today I have a lung function test to get a baseline lung capacity - apparently my chemo can have a nasty side effect of lung scarring. Oh, and congestive heart failure. I feel like my body is no longer my own - I'm giving it up to the medical field for a season. Later this afternoon I am going to my naturopath to get started on helping my body get rid of toxins and dead cells that chemo will leave me with.

My specific prayer right now is that I don't have a horrendous reaction to chemo on Tuesday and that my bone marrow biopsy comes back clean.

Thoughts

I feel like I have been given a new lease on life. Not two days ago, I had so many thoughts rolling around in my head - one of them being "if they can't treat this, then I get to be with the Lord in heaven, right?". I really had to come to that realization and be ok with that. Now that I have hope (although I know that I still have a rough road ahead), things around me that I used to overlook seem so much more intense. Brighter, somehow. As we were driving to the Kaiser Interstate campus, I noticed the trees that have become a ravishing red with the fall weather. I linger over Abe's sweet little smiles and truly take time to enjoy them. I cup his face in my hands and notice how soft his skin is. I stare at Juliet's beautiful curls and run my hand through them - because I get to do that as many times I want in the years to come. And I will no longer take that for granted. Colin and I are talking about going to the San Juan islands next summer - normally I would say "no thanks - I loathe camping" but now I am willing. I need to experience life more. Because life shouldn't be taken for granted. I am going to lose my hair soon - and that's ok. It's a small price to pay for a second chance at this wonderful, colorful life.

Answer to Prayer

Today was my much dreaded appointment with the oncologist. This was a big moment of truth - what if the cancer went to my brain? What if I had breast cancer too? Yes, these thoughts were actually going through my head. On the way to the appointment I began praying fervently for the Lord to calm me completely. I also prayed that somehow this cancer would be an earlier stage (although I didn't expect that that was actually going to be the result - God can do anything, but sometimes his will is very different than my own) and only Hodgkins.

I expected to walk into a big gray waiting area with a bunch of seriously sick people with no hair. Oddly enough, it was nothing like that. The wall colors were a warm autumn color. The receptionist was telling jokes and insanely friendly. Only one person was bald and there was a cheery station on the TV. I was instantly calmed - prayer answered.

When the doctor entered my room, she spoke quietly and almost hesitantly. I knew she was going to give me terrible news. She began by telling me telling me that my cancer is treatable and curable and to keep that in my mind while we went over the details. I let her know that I really didn't want the details and she was very respectfully. What I didn't want to know was my stage. It's true. I just wanted her to tell me when and where to show up to treatments. After all was said and done, she did have to tell me the stage and it's great news - stage 2. They do have to test my bone marrow and that would automatically put me in stage 4 if it's positive, but even then it's still treatable and curable. Such great news! I get my biopsy on 11/21 and start chemo on 11/22. My terrible symptoms of itching and night sweats should go away fairly quickly and I can't wait for that! The Lord answered both my prayers in amazing ways today and for that I am so grateful.

Please be praying my biopsy comes back negative - if it's positive, I would have to extend my treatments for 2 more months. As of now I will get IV infusions every other Tuesday for at least 4 months and up to 6 months. Then I will get radiation. I get to have a guest at each infusion and even a TV!

Thank you for your continued prayers and support. You better believe I will be asking for help in the months to come =).

Today

Today was well, depressing. It's the first time I have actually felt like a cancer patient. I was given an IV of radioactive glucose liquid that would highlight all the cancer cells (cancer cells soak up sugar faster than regular ones) and was told to sit for 60 minutes while the liquid soaked in. I couldn't move much or talk because that would cause those parts of my body to be highlighted - a bad thing when they are looking for only cancer. Luckily, my aunt was able to join me and she sat patiently with me in silence while the 60 minutes passed. The actual PET scan was pretty nerve wracking - think of a tube that is long enough for almost your whole body passing you slowly in and out of it for 12 minutes. I could see the techs through the window looking at the images on the computers - they know so much more than I do at this point. At any rate, I prayed, thought about eating after the scan (I couldn't eat for 6 hours prior) and generally just tried to calm my mind. The disturbing part came when I was released from this medical captivity back to my room down the hall and glanced into another room that held a man gripping his head in pain. Since this was just a PET scan clinic, I could only guess brain cancer. Ugh. And I made the mistake of reading an article in Real Simple of a woman's year long journey with breast cancer. Think: her tales of chemo that spoke of not being able to taste food, no energy to move, not feeling the ends of her fingers, losing her hair, perhaps losing her fertility. Is this what's in store for me?! But I have to keep reminding myself that this treatment allows me to see my kids grow up. I am blessed to even have access to this treatment.

Which brings me to my next emotional moment: I find myself gazing into Abe's eyes and whispering "I love you" and hoping I have the opportunity to say it to him a thousand more times. Some emotions get very intense when one is diagnosed with cancer.

Today I cannot hold my baby because I am radioactive. I have to pump my milk for 48 hours and luckily Abe decided he was hungry enough to take a bottle.

Today was a bit rough, hopefully tomorrow I can get my positive spirit back and forget about the man holding his head in pain.

And since my life isn't all about cancer, I will share some Instagram photos I have been shooting on my iPhone:

Ok, Samuel took this one of himself: These are the pumpkins the boys carved the year:
When I am not feeling well, Colin takes over as caregiver of Abe (Abe is the snuggliest baby we have had and if it were up to him, he would be held all day, everyday):
Here is Colin today feeding Abe:
Sweet, sleepy baby:
Colin driving us up to Rainier to pick up the kiddos:
This was Colin's Batman costume for Halloween - super tight:
More sleepy baby:

This Week

This week I will be having a PET scan on Tuesday. This scan apparently highlights all the places there is active cancer. On Friday I have my first oncologist appointment and that will probably be the big moment of truth - the stage and if the cancer has spread. My specific prayer request is that this cancer has remained only on my heart/lung. While it's a very treatable cancer even in later stages, I would love it to remain a simple, easier round of chemo and radiation. I also pray that the Lord shines through to others in this season of my life.

P.S. If I never itch my body again, it would be too soon. My skin has absolutely been itched raw over the last few months due to this lymphoma thing - ugh! I have not slept next to my husband since I was about 5 months pregnant because I would keep him awake from said itching. Really, it is a form of torture. Water boarding? Piece of cake.

Update on Health Issues

I have to say that the Lord is faithful in answering my prayer - I prayed fervently that He would allow the doctors to figure out what is wrong with me. After so many tests and various specialists visits, I received news that I had an abnormal chest x-ray. I then had a referral to get a cat scan of my chest. A few days later I was on the phone with an advice nurse that said in a skiddish voice: "I am going to read you the report, ok?" as though she was prepping me for something bad. Well, she was. She informed me that I have enlarged lymph nodes and a "specialist" has been consulted. My doctor called me later that afternoon and informed me of her conversation with an oncologist (insert gasp here) and he thought I probably have Hodgekin's lymphoma. Well, consider me blindsided! I then had to get an abdominal CT scan and then a biopsy. Don't even get me started on the biopsy. For some insane reason, I declined the Valium and really should not have. Anyway, results came back yesterday and I do have Hodgekin's - it's a very treatable cancer, I hear. My next step is getting a PET scan to see exactly where cancer might be in my body so they can give me a stage and prep for a course of treatment. I will inevitably be given chemo and radiation - a typical treatment for this cancer.

So, there it is. Please be praying we have caught it early.