Visitation for Daniel and the family will be on Friday evening, October 24, from 5:00 to 9:00 p.m. and again on Saturday from 10:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m. at the Cookeville Funeral Home with the funeral to follow at 12:00 p.m. Daniel will be buried in the Falling Springs Cemetery where my dad's parents and brothers are buried.
Below are directions to the funeral home:
From Interstate 40, take exit 286. Go north on Willow Avenue. Follow Willow Avenue to Jackson Street (no more than a couple of miles). Take a left on Jackson Street. The funeral home is on the left at the second traffic light.
My family just finished making Daniel's funeral arrangements, and I can tell you it was rough. But if Daniel could have spoken to us, he would have said something like, "You all are wearing me out; just make a decision!" Oh, how he'll be missed. In Christ alone we will stand.
God's best to you all,
Doug
Thursday, October 23, 2008
In His Presence
When time permits, I will share as much as I can about my Brother's last few days. For now, though, suffice it to say that yesterday around 4:00 p.m. he awoke in the presence of a gracious, loving-kind Savior who greeted him with open arms. Praise His holy name!
Your prayers for Daniel did not go unheard. As Daniel would say, "God has good plans." Please continue to pray for us. Our lives will never be the same.
Funeral arrangements will be posted on this site as soon as I can.
Blessings to you all,
Doug
". . . In my Father's house are many mansions." -John 14:2
Your prayers for Daniel did not go unheard. As Daniel would say, "God has good plans." Please continue to pray for us. Our lives will never be the same.
Funeral arrangements will be posted on this site as soon as I can.
Blessings to you all,
Doug
". . . In my Father's house are many mansions." -John 14:2
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Clay in His hands
When I think about all that’s taken place since last I wrote, several words come to mind: exhaustion, sadness, heartbreak, fear. But there are others: mercy, love, peace, grace! As trite as it may sound, God always provides an escape. What a great and mighty God, the One who balances the universe! You may be wondering what real good can be found in Daniel’s world; well, there’s plenty, and we’ll get to that later. But first, a few of the highlights . . .
After Daniel’s last discharge from Vanderbilt, he had several good days. His pain was largely controlled, and he received IV fluids daily. Talking was minimal, but he was blessed to share with a couple of friends with his pen. On the night of Wednesday, October 8, he hardly slept at all. The next morning we gave him a medication that the doctor had suggested might help him rest; it was also expected to relieve his severe myoclonus, the sudden jerking you sometimes experience as you are about to fall asleep (in Daniel’s case possibly brought on by pain medications). Unfortunately, the drug made him confused and afforded him very little sleep. All day Thursday he struggled with this effect. On Thursday evening we noticed that Daniel’s breathing wasn’t quite right; there was a distinctly different noise as he exhaled. We observed him closely and decided to wait and see. In the early hours of Friday morning, we felt Daniel had not really improved and opted to take him to a local ER. The first and most obvious problem was his oxygen level. It was only 78 and well out of the normal range. While we were there, the doctor gave Daniel a medicine to reverse the effects of the "sleeping" pill. She also ordered oxygen for home. Daniel left the ER with an oxygen tank and feeling much more alert, yet spent.
The next several hours were key, as Daniel continued to feel horrible. He had no energy and, while more lucid, was too tired to communicate most of the time. By Friday evening and with the help of a dear friend who came to examine him, we decided that another quick ER trip might be in order. Good call. A chest x-ray was ordered, and the doctor carefully and gently explained the results to us. A large volume of fluid was compressing one of Daniel’s lungs (pleural effusion), and it was believed to be a product of the cancer. He had two options: he could do nothing and eventually die from not being able to breathe, or he could have the fluid drained. The doctor explained that most likely the fluid would return anyway, and Daniel would, at some point, have to decide when to stop having it drained. I find myself at times like this waiting to hear about choice C, but it was never offered. After asking the family’s opinion, he decided to try the drainage especially considering he was still taking chemotherapy. After all, what IF the chemo actually worked this time? The doctor also explained that draining the fluid should improve Daniel’s breathing, at least for a while.
The procedure was set for Saturday morning. It was a great success; the doctor removed approximately two liters of fluid. Daniel felt better almost immediately.
The doctor told Daniel that the fluid was beginning to reaccumulate by the next day, so on Monday the procedure was repeated resulting in the drainage of almost another whole liter of fluid. The doctor was kind enough to let me stay in the room during both procedures and help hold Daniel. What an honor! He barely had the strength to sit up in the bed while the needle was placed. He leaned forward and held onto me sometimes grabbing my collar as he began experiencing intense pain. As soon as the doctor was finished, he ordered a chest x-ray to confirm the source of pain. Unfortunately, during the procedure Daniel developed a pneumothorax, a puncture of the lung, which caused air to escape into the space previously occupied by the fluid. Only the lower left lobe was affected, and the doctor explained that Daniel would need to have a chest tube inserted into the space to allow the air to escape. The procedure and its possible complications sounded rough for someone in Daniel’s physical condition, but the doctor had given the worst-case scenario. Daniel had to decide whether to have the surgery locally or return to Vanderbilt. After brief consideration, he said he would have it done here. (He really wasn’t well enough for the trip.) By the way, the level of care Daniel has received locally is equal to or greater than what he received at Vanderbilt; he is being treated by the doctor with whom he practices, and there has never been a kinder, more compassionate, or more competent provider than he. The surgeon was in and out in a matter of fifteen or twenty minutes, and there were no complications. I could hear a pop as the air was released. The tube was left in place to remove the remaining air until the lung seals itself. We soon found out that the tube has a dual function, which is to drain the fluid as it returns. The tube is still in place, and there is no immediate plan to remove it. I called Dr. Gilbert to tell her what was going on, and she said to stop the chemotherapy for now because it hinders wound healing. Of course, this was a disappointment, but Daniel trusts her completely with his care.
Over the next few days, Daniel’s condition improved from the standpoint of breathing easier, but he stayed in bed almost all the time. One evening we helped him out of bed to use the bathroom, and we were all reminded again how sick he really is. He could barely support his own weight. By the time Daniel was back in bed, the look on his face spoke of his excruciating pain – mostly from his right hip. You will remember that the cancer has returned to the right hip in the exact same spots as before, not to mention all the hardware in his hip that can cause discomfort. Shortly after that episode, the decision was made to increase his pain medications, a real mixed blessing. Mixed because on the one hand Daniel has better pain control, but on the other he sleeps most of the time.
Most of Daniel’s doctors have made it perfectly clear that we should focus on his comfort. They tell us he is dying. This is not new information. Daniel posted sometime ago that he was given six to nine months to live. It’s funny how we say the doctor gave a person this amount of time or that. Doctors don’t give time. It is not theirs to give. And surely even the ones who have no faith in God know that. As a friend pointed out yesterday, doctors can tell us what HAS been and what IS, but it is our faith that tells us what CAN be.
We are not deluded by Daniel’s condition. Neither is he. And you will be happy to know that his mind is sharp. But to repeat myself from an earlier post, Daniel has chosen and we have agreed as a family that we will continue to believe in the possibility of physical healing as long as Daniel has breath. While to many folks this may seem unrealistic, naïve, and uneducated, to us it is a way to support Daniel and honor God. At no time have we doubted what God CAN do. What he WILL do is up to Him. But what we MUST do is pray. Tonight we gathered around Daniel’s bed as a family and prayed. A couple of minutes after we finished, Daniel called us back over to his side and said, "Let’s do it again." When I asked him what we should pray for specifically, he said, "Healing; I still want to be healed!" We prayed for his complete physical healing, always respecting and bringing attention to God’s will. Please join with us in this prayer.
A few nights ago, I feared Daniel would be leaving us at any moment, but today I am reminded that he is still clay in God’s hands. Let the Potter work His good will!
Thank you all for your continued prayers. We will be forever grateful for your love.
God bless,
Doug
"Yet, O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand." -Isaiah 64:8
After Daniel’s last discharge from Vanderbilt, he had several good days. His pain was largely controlled, and he received IV fluids daily. Talking was minimal, but he was blessed to share with a couple of friends with his pen. On the night of Wednesday, October 8, he hardly slept at all. The next morning we gave him a medication that the doctor had suggested might help him rest; it was also expected to relieve his severe myoclonus, the sudden jerking you sometimes experience as you are about to fall asleep (in Daniel’s case possibly brought on by pain medications). Unfortunately, the drug made him confused and afforded him very little sleep. All day Thursday he struggled with this effect. On Thursday evening we noticed that Daniel’s breathing wasn’t quite right; there was a distinctly different noise as he exhaled. We observed him closely and decided to wait and see. In the early hours of Friday morning, we felt Daniel had not really improved and opted to take him to a local ER. The first and most obvious problem was his oxygen level. It was only 78 and well out of the normal range. While we were there, the doctor gave Daniel a medicine to reverse the effects of the "sleeping" pill. She also ordered oxygen for home. Daniel left the ER with an oxygen tank and feeling much more alert, yet spent.
The next several hours were key, as Daniel continued to feel horrible. He had no energy and, while more lucid, was too tired to communicate most of the time. By Friday evening and with the help of a dear friend who came to examine him, we decided that another quick ER trip might be in order. Good call. A chest x-ray was ordered, and the doctor carefully and gently explained the results to us. A large volume of fluid was compressing one of Daniel’s lungs (pleural effusion), and it was believed to be a product of the cancer. He had two options: he could do nothing and eventually die from not being able to breathe, or he could have the fluid drained. The doctor explained that most likely the fluid would return anyway, and Daniel would, at some point, have to decide when to stop having it drained. I find myself at times like this waiting to hear about choice C, but it was never offered. After asking the family’s opinion, he decided to try the drainage especially considering he was still taking chemotherapy. After all, what IF the chemo actually worked this time? The doctor also explained that draining the fluid should improve Daniel’s breathing, at least for a while.
The procedure was set for Saturday morning. It was a great success; the doctor removed approximately two liters of fluid. Daniel felt better almost immediately.
The doctor told Daniel that the fluid was beginning to reaccumulate by the next day, so on Monday the procedure was repeated resulting in the drainage of almost another whole liter of fluid. The doctor was kind enough to let me stay in the room during both procedures and help hold Daniel. What an honor! He barely had the strength to sit up in the bed while the needle was placed. He leaned forward and held onto me sometimes grabbing my collar as he began experiencing intense pain. As soon as the doctor was finished, he ordered a chest x-ray to confirm the source of pain. Unfortunately, during the procedure Daniel developed a pneumothorax, a puncture of the lung, which caused air to escape into the space previously occupied by the fluid. Only the lower left lobe was affected, and the doctor explained that Daniel would need to have a chest tube inserted into the space to allow the air to escape. The procedure and its possible complications sounded rough for someone in Daniel’s physical condition, but the doctor had given the worst-case scenario. Daniel had to decide whether to have the surgery locally or return to Vanderbilt. After brief consideration, he said he would have it done here. (He really wasn’t well enough for the trip.) By the way, the level of care Daniel has received locally is equal to or greater than what he received at Vanderbilt; he is being treated by the doctor with whom he practices, and there has never been a kinder, more compassionate, or more competent provider than he. The surgeon was in and out in a matter of fifteen or twenty minutes, and there were no complications. I could hear a pop as the air was released. The tube was left in place to remove the remaining air until the lung seals itself. We soon found out that the tube has a dual function, which is to drain the fluid as it returns. The tube is still in place, and there is no immediate plan to remove it. I called Dr. Gilbert to tell her what was going on, and she said to stop the chemotherapy for now because it hinders wound healing. Of course, this was a disappointment, but Daniel trusts her completely with his care.
Over the next few days, Daniel’s condition improved from the standpoint of breathing easier, but he stayed in bed almost all the time. One evening we helped him out of bed to use the bathroom, and we were all reminded again how sick he really is. He could barely support his own weight. By the time Daniel was back in bed, the look on his face spoke of his excruciating pain – mostly from his right hip. You will remember that the cancer has returned to the right hip in the exact same spots as before, not to mention all the hardware in his hip that can cause discomfort. Shortly after that episode, the decision was made to increase his pain medications, a real mixed blessing. Mixed because on the one hand Daniel has better pain control, but on the other he sleeps most of the time.
Most of Daniel’s doctors have made it perfectly clear that we should focus on his comfort. They tell us he is dying. This is not new information. Daniel posted sometime ago that he was given six to nine months to live. It’s funny how we say the doctor gave a person this amount of time or that. Doctors don’t give time. It is not theirs to give. And surely even the ones who have no faith in God know that. As a friend pointed out yesterday, doctors can tell us what HAS been and what IS, but it is our faith that tells us what CAN be.
We are not deluded by Daniel’s condition. Neither is he. And you will be happy to know that his mind is sharp. But to repeat myself from an earlier post, Daniel has chosen and we have agreed as a family that we will continue to believe in the possibility of physical healing as long as Daniel has breath. While to many folks this may seem unrealistic, naïve, and uneducated, to us it is a way to support Daniel and honor God. At no time have we doubted what God CAN do. What he WILL do is up to Him. But what we MUST do is pray. Tonight we gathered around Daniel’s bed as a family and prayed. A couple of minutes after we finished, Daniel called us back over to his side and said, "Let’s do it again." When I asked him what we should pray for specifically, he said, "Healing; I still want to be healed!" We prayed for his complete physical healing, always respecting and bringing attention to God’s will. Please join with us in this prayer.
A few nights ago, I feared Daniel would be leaving us at any moment, but today I am reminded that he is still clay in God’s hands. Let the Potter work His good will!
Thank you all for your continued prayers. We will be forever grateful for your love.
God bless,
Doug
"Yet, O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand." -Isaiah 64:8
Friday, October 3, 2008
Preparation place
Eleven days at Vanderbilt (any hospital, I suppose) is enough to wear on one's nerves! But Daniel handled it well. Some of the rest of us were a bit more caustic - more on that at another time perhaps. At one point, though, after having been asked at least ten times a day to rate his pain level on a scale from 1 to 10, Daniel replied (with raised eyebrow), "At times 3 or 4 or maybe 10! I mean, I dont' really get into the whole scale thing." Even Daniel has his limits!
The doctors never really determined if Daniel had infection in his body or not. At no time was he in renal failure. The bottom line is that they don't really know for sure the source of his fevers. All they could say was that since none of his blood cultures produced anything, most likely he is experiencing tumor fever. Before this visit, we were told his "tumor burden" was not great enough to cause fever, but now that we know he has cancer in other areas of the body, the doctors' opinion has changed.
Daniel was discharged Wednesday afternoon. He's holding his own. He is tired most of the time and is either resting in the recliner or bed, but you'll be glad to know that even though he is hardly speaking right now, with just a glance we know when to get out of his space. You know the look. His pain is well controlled at the moment, and we are all very thankful for that.
As of today, Daniel has taken five of the new chemotherapy pills, and so far we haven't seen any side-effects. We will see Dr. Gilbert again in a couple of weeks for her to assess his situation. We are hoping for progress, of course. Again, she says the people who respond to this drug usually do very well.
Clearly, Daniel is very sick. Dr. Gilbert continues to try chemotherapy because Daniel is young and wants to fight. And even though his medical outlook is grim, he knows where his help comes from. And he trusts Him to be right. Daniel doesn't feel well enough tonight to give me any words for the blog; if he did, though, I know he'd want me to remind you that this world is but a preparation place. In this life, we are only made of clay, but one day we shall be like Him. His question to you would be, "Do you know Jesus?" If you don't, you must not wait to find Him.
Prayer requests:
1. Healing
2. Mucus cessation
3. Continued pain control
4. Ability to eat and drink
Thanks to everyone who has prayed for Daniel's friend Robert. He is doing great!
God's best to you all,
Doug
"My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth." -Psalm 121:2
The doctors never really determined if Daniel had infection in his body or not. At no time was he in renal failure. The bottom line is that they don't really know for sure the source of his fevers. All they could say was that since none of his blood cultures produced anything, most likely he is experiencing tumor fever. Before this visit, we were told his "tumor burden" was not great enough to cause fever, but now that we know he has cancer in other areas of the body, the doctors' opinion has changed.
Daniel was discharged Wednesday afternoon. He's holding his own. He is tired most of the time and is either resting in the recliner or bed, but you'll be glad to know that even though he is hardly speaking right now, with just a glance we know when to get out of his space. You know the look. His pain is well controlled at the moment, and we are all very thankful for that.
As of today, Daniel has taken five of the new chemotherapy pills, and so far we haven't seen any side-effects. We will see Dr. Gilbert again in a couple of weeks for her to assess his situation. We are hoping for progress, of course. Again, she says the people who respond to this drug usually do very well.
Clearly, Daniel is very sick. Dr. Gilbert continues to try chemotherapy because Daniel is young and wants to fight. And even though his medical outlook is grim, he knows where his help comes from. And he trusts Him to be right. Daniel doesn't feel well enough tonight to give me any words for the blog; if he did, though, I know he'd want me to remind you that this world is but a preparation place. In this life, we are only made of clay, but one day we shall be like Him. His question to you would be, "Do you know Jesus?" If you don't, you must not wait to find Him.
Prayer requests:
1. Healing
2. Mucus cessation
3. Continued pain control
4. Ability to eat and drink
Thanks to everyone who has prayed for Daniel's friend Robert. He is doing great!
God's best to you all,
Doug
"My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth." -Psalm 121:2
Friday, September 26, 2008
Will not . . .
The CT scan of Daniel's chest, abdomen, and pelvis were completed this afternoon, and they brought troubling results. The lesions in his lungs have grown, and there are more now than before. His liver and spleen also contain lesions.
The doctor said there is always the possibility that these lesions are infection and not cancer, but she doesn't really believe that. She said she could do a lung biopsy to be sure. But that's not what Daniel wants. Medically, there aren't many options.
Daniel can choose to begin chemotherapy next week (but his body may not be able to handle it), or he may elect to go home with adequate pain control and consider taking a similar chemo in pill form through his feeding tube. He may also decide he's tired and do neither. We will support whichever path he wants to take. Those are tough words to write, say, think, and believe; but they're what he needs.
When I asked Daniel what he wanted me to write about how he feels, he said to tell you all, "We will not stop trusting God to do His will." Oh, what a man of faith!
Daniel and the family need your prayers as we continue this journey.
Please continue to help us pray for miraculous healing.
As a friend pointed out to me, no matter what happens, it will not change the character of God! God is good. He is faithful. He is always right. We will love Him, praise Him, serve Him!
Thank you all for loving my Brother . . .
Doug
The doctor said there is always the possibility that these lesions are infection and not cancer, but she doesn't really believe that. She said she could do a lung biopsy to be sure. But that's not what Daniel wants. Medically, there aren't many options.
Daniel can choose to begin chemotherapy next week (but his body may not be able to handle it), or he may elect to go home with adequate pain control and consider taking a similar chemo in pill form through his feeding tube. He may also decide he's tired and do neither. We will support whichever path he wants to take. Those are tough words to write, say, think, and believe; but they're what he needs.
When I asked Daniel what he wanted me to write about how he feels, he said to tell you all, "We will not stop trusting God to do His will." Oh, what a man of faith!
Daniel and the family need your prayers as we continue this journey.
Please continue to help us pray for miraculous healing.
As a friend pointed out to me, no matter what happens, it will not change the character of God! God is good. He is faithful. He is always right. We will love Him, praise Him, serve Him!
Thank you all for loving my Brother . . .
Doug
Determined
When the doctor came in to tell us about yesterday's test results (which were pretty good - some white cells but no bacteria in the fluid), the news was overshadowed by the fact that they found two new spots of cancer in his hip. This is heartbreaking because it means that "the cancer is behaving badly" in the words of the doctor. He will have more CT scans today to rule out infection in his chest, abdomen, and pelvis; obviously, they will be looking for other tumors as well. Daniel will also have an ultrasound of his legs to rule out blood clots as a possible source of infection.
The most pressing matter is to find and fight the infection in his body. If infection is found in the hip, then the question will be whether to fight it with antibiotics alone or to go back to surgery. If surgery is not required, Daniel can begin chemo soon; however, if surgery becomes necessary, chemo will have to be started later. If the infection is elsewhere, I suppose antibiotics will be the method of treatment.
Our hearts are heavy today, but we must continue to fight with Daniel. He is determined. He wants to continue cancer treatment. We want what he wants. PLEASE stand with us in prayer!
God bless you all as you have blessed us.
Doug
The most pressing matter is to find and fight the infection in his body. If infection is found in the hip, then the question will be whether to fight it with antibiotics alone or to go back to surgery. If surgery is not required, Daniel can begin chemo soon; however, if surgery becomes necessary, chemo will have to be started later. If the infection is elsewhere, I suppose antibiotics will be the method of treatment.
Our hearts are heavy today, but we must continue to fight with Daniel. He is determined. He wants to continue cancer treatment. We want what he wants. PLEASE stand with us in prayer!
God bless you all as you have blessed us.
Doug
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Come forth as gold
Since I last updated you on Daniel's condition, he's been tested once again. On Sunday morning, he began having excruciating pain in his hip and leg, he had a fever, and his output was scant despite having had several liters of fluid. I spoke with Dr. Gilbert who was concerned that Daniel might be in renal failure. (Thankfully, that was not the case.) She suggested we take him to the ER at Vanderbilt and said he would need to be admitted for hydration and tests. We went through the whole ER process, and Daniel was admitted to the hospital late Sunday night.
Since that time, his doctors have done a number of tests to determine if/where he has infection in his body. There has been some disagreement among them, but they finally decided that Daniel should undergo a procedure today to remove some of the fluid that has collected in his hip since his surgery. They can see several pockets of fluid on CT scan, but they aren't sure if it is abscess or just normal post surgery change.
Unfortunately, the procedure was not a complete success today. The radiologist was only able to withdraw a small amount of blood from the hip joint. He told me sometimes the fluid is so thick it cannot be removed with this procedure. They may try another method using a CT scan along with bigger needles than he used today in x-ray. He did send the blood to the lab to be cultured, but he doesn't really expect to get a definitive answer this way. He said surgery may be the only option to remove the infection completely along with more antibiotics. (The surgeon doesn't think the fluid in the hip is infection; we'll have to wait and see.)
While in the hospital, Daniel has continued to have periodic high fevers - one as high as 104.2. His pain level has been off the charts at times, but it is better controlled right now. Since he is feeling so bad and is sleeping much of the time, he has not asked for visitors yet. He hopes to be better soon so that he can see his friends and family.
Prayer requests:
1. healing
2. pain control
3. less time asleep so he can communicate better (He really wants this.)
4. Mr. Carroll
5. God to be glorified
Just so you know, Daniel hasn't given up. He's being tried, but his faith remains strong.
God's best to you all,
Doug
"But He knoweth the way that I take: when He hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold." -Job 23:10
Since that time, his doctors have done a number of tests to determine if/where he has infection in his body. There has been some disagreement among them, but they finally decided that Daniel should undergo a procedure today to remove some of the fluid that has collected in his hip since his surgery. They can see several pockets of fluid on CT scan, but they aren't sure if it is abscess or just normal post surgery change.
Unfortunately, the procedure was not a complete success today. The radiologist was only able to withdraw a small amount of blood from the hip joint. He told me sometimes the fluid is so thick it cannot be removed with this procedure. They may try another method using a CT scan along with bigger needles than he used today in x-ray. He did send the blood to the lab to be cultured, but he doesn't really expect to get a definitive answer this way. He said surgery may be the only option to remove the infection completely along with more antibiotics. (The surgeon doesn't think the fluid in the hip is infection; we'll have to wait and see.)
While in the hospital, Daniel has continued to have periodic high fevers - one as high as 104.2. His pain level has been off the charts at times, but it is better controlled right now. Since he is feeling so bad and is sleeping much of the time, he has not asked for visitors yet. He hopes to be better soon so that he can see his friends and family.
Prayer requests:
1. healing
2. pain control
3. less time asleep so he can communicate better (He really wants this.)
4. Mr. Carroll
5. God to be glorified
Just so you know, Daniel hasn't given up. He's being tried, but his faith remains strong.
God's best to you all,
Doug
"But He knoweth the way that I take: when He hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold." -Job 23:10
Friday, September 19, 2008
God's show
We saw Dr. Gilbert on Wednesday as scheduled, and the visit went pretty much as Daniel explained in his last post. She said she doesn't know for sure if there is still tumor on Daniel's tongue - Daniel believes there is due to his increased pain - but she said it won't change his prognosis or treatment either way. We are supposed to see Dr. Netterville next week for a more definitive answer about this.
Dr. Gilbert said Daniel could begin a new chemotherapy regimen today. We came home Wednesday evening with our minds all set to get started. We'd only been home a short time when Dr. Gilbert called and said Daniel had hypercalcemia, a high blood calcium level. It was serious enough that she said we either had to bring him back to Vanderbilt for fluids or he must drink or take into his feeding tube at least one liter of water that evening. She said the condition was caused by the cancer itself and/or dehydration. We had a couple of liters of fluids left from when Daniel was taking IV fluids at home a few weeks ago, so a dear friend came by to start the IV for him. Dr. Gilbert wanted Daniel to return to Vanderbilt yesterday to receive more fluids and a special medication to treat his hypercalcemia. We kept that appointment, and everything seemed to go well. Our nurse cautioned us that some patients develop a fever after taking this medication.
As I said before, Daniel's tongue pain had worsened, so Dr. Gilbert increased one of his pain medications on Wednesday. By yesterday evening, Daniel was quite confused, and we were worried enough to call his doctor. She recommended that he be seen in the local ER since there was a possibility that his calcium level was still too high, clearly a serious problem. She also said it might just be the increased pain medications. Daniel was seen at a local hospital, and the doctor said his calcium level was definitely too high. He was admitted overnight for IV fluids and a diuretic to help rid his body of the excess calcium. His pain medication was also adjusted. He continued to receive fluids throughout the day and was discharged this afternoon. Upon discharge, he had a temperature of almost 101, and that was attributed to yesterday's medication.
By the time we got Daniel home and settled this afternoon, I noticed he seemed hot. We checked his temperature and were alarmed to find it at 103.5. We gave him ibuprofen and then phoned his local doctor. He said if the medicine didn't bring down the temperature within an hour we should call Dr. Gilbert to see if she wanted to evaluate Daniel. Thankfully, the fever subsided. I should say, though, that Mom asked if anyone had prayed about the fever. To be honest, none of us had, so she led us in a prayer asking God to reduce the fever. It's 10:35 p.m. right now, and his temperature is 98.6!
These few days have been eventful and difficult for Daniel. He was so anxious to begin the new treatment plan. I told him it was only a temporary setback. He said, "It's okay; it's still God's show!" Indeed, it is.
Please pray that Daniel will be well enough to begin treatment soon, that his side-effects will lessen, and, as Daniel, says, that God be glorified above all!
God's best to you all,
Doug
Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the LORD. -Psalm 27:14
Dr. Gilbert said Daniel could begin a new chemotherapy regimen today. We came home Wednesday evening with our minds all set to get started. We'd only been home a short time when Dr. Gilbert called and said Daniel had hypercalcemia, a high blood calcium level. It was serious enough that she said we either had to bring him back to Vanderbilt for fluids or he must drink or take into his feeding tube at least one liter of water that evening. She said the condition was caused by the cancer itself and/or dehydration. We had a couple of liters of fluids left from when Daniel was taking IV fluids at home a few weeks ago, so a dear friend came by to start the IV for him. Dr. Gilbert wanted Daniel to return to Vanderbilt yesterday to receive more fluids and a special medication to treat his hypercalcemia. We kept that appointment, and everything seemed to go well. Our nurse cautioned us that some patients develop a fever after taking this medication.
As I said before, Daniel's tongue pain had worsened, so Dr. Gilbert increased one of his pain medications on Wednesday. By yesterday evening, Daniel was quite confused, and we were worried enough to call his doctor. She recommended that he be seen in the local ER since there was a possibility that his calcium level was still too high, clearly a serious problem. She also said it might just be the increased pain medications. Daniel was seen at a local hospital, and the doctor said his calcium level was definitely too high. He was admitted overnight for IV fluids and a diuretic to help rid his body of the excess calcium. His pain medication was also adjusted. He continued to receive fluids throughout the day and was discharged this afternoon. Upon discharge, he had a temperature of almost 101, and that was attributed to yesterday's medication.
By the time we got Daniel home and settled this afternoon, I noticed he seemed hot. We checked his temperature and were alarmed to find it at 103.5. We gave him ibuprofen and then phoned his local doctor. He said if the medicine didn't bring down the temperature within an hour we should call Dr. Gilbert to see if she wanted to evaluate Daniel. Thankfully, the fever subsided. I should say, though, that Mom asked if anyone had prayed about the fever. To be honest, none of us had, so she led us in a prayer asking God to reduce the fever. It's 10:35 p.m. right now, and his temperature is 98.6!
These few days have been eventful and difficult for Daniel. He was so anxious to begin the new treatment plan. I told him it was only a temporary setback. He said, "It's okay; it's still God's show!" Indeed, it is.
Please pray that Daniel will be well enough to begin treatment soon, that his side-effects will lessen, and, as Daniel, says, that God be glorified above all!
God's best to you all,
Doug
Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the LORD. -Psalm 27:14
Monday, September 15, 2008
Three times a day
Do you really believe He created us?
Do you really believe He parted a sea for His people?
Was He the muscle behind the little boy who defeated the giant?
Was He the fourth man loose in the fire?
Did he shut those lions' mouths?
King Darius sure was convinced. Shortly after the event took place, he wrote to all his people:
"I issue a decree that in every part of my kingdom people must fear and reverence the God of Daniel. For he is the living God and he endures forever; his kingdom will not be destroyed, his dominion will never end. He rescues and he saves; he performs signs and wonders in the heavens and on the earth. He has rescued Daniel from the power of the lions."
Since I last communicated with you, the ride sure has been bumpy. As most of you know by now, we made it home from the unfortunate pupil incident without too much drama. I was released from the hospital on Friday and have been resting at home since. The source of my increased mouth pain, my fatigue, and my not-so-normal blood work remained a mystery as we were not offered definitive answers at the time of discharge.
Today, things became a bit clearer. We saw my radiation oncologist who believes that there is resistant tumor on my tongue and probably in my neck. This, at the very least, explains my increased pain. He had spoken with the orthopedic oncologist, and they agree that radiating my right hip, which had been the plan, is no longer in my best interest. Since the orthopedist is certain he removed all the tumor that is there currently, both of them consider it better to proceed with attacking the resistant tumor in my oral cavity and neck along with my lungs (it was mentioned in an earlier post that I have about 10 small nodules in both right and left) first. The hip is not an imminent threat now, but the tongue, neck, and lungs are.
The plan is for me to see my oncologist, Dr. Gilbert, on Wednesday. She has already discussed possible trial therapies. Nothing she has to offer me is considered curative, but she believes we can add to the length and quality of my life possibly. We will further discuss these trial therapies along with a plan for moving forward on Wednesday.
Some of you might expect me to go quietly at this point, which is really one of the main reasons I write tonight. Why is it hard to believe that God can heal me from extremely aggressive cancer when we have no doubt that the same God created this universe? Like my sister said, "God is still so much bigger than all of this!"
I love all of you. Keep praying and believing. It is not naive - it is a chance to interact personally with the one true, living God.
Three times a day he got down on his knees and prayed, giving thanks to his God, just as he had done before. -Daniel 6:10
Thank you for getting on your knees for me.
Do you really believe He parted a sea for His people?
Was He the muscle behind the little boy who defeated the giant?
Was He the fourth man loose in the fire?
Did he shut those lions' mouths?
King Darius sure was convinced. Shortly after the event took place, he wrote to all his people:
"I issue a decree that in every part of my kingdom people must fear and reverence the God of Daniel. For he is the living God and he endures forever; his kingdom will not be destroyed, his dominion will never end. He rescues and he saves; he performs signs and wonders in the heavens and on the earth. He has rescued Daniel from the power of the lions."
Since I last communicated with you, the ride sure has been bumpy. As most of you know by now, we made it home from the unfortunate pupil incident without too much drama. I was released from the hospital on Friday and have been resting at home since. The source of my increased mouth pain, my fatigue, and my not-so-normal blood work remained a mystery as we were not offered definitive answers at the time of discharge.
Today, things became a bit clearer. We saw my radiation oncologist who believes that there is resistant tumor on my tongue and probably in my neck. This, at the very least, explains my increased pain. He had spoken with the orthopedic oncologist, and they agree that radiating my right hip, which had been the plan, is no longer in my best interest. Since the orthopedist is certain he removed all the tumor that is there currently, both of them consider it better to proceed with attacking the resistant tumor in my oral cavity and neck along with my lungs (it was mentioned in an earlier post that I have about 10 small nodules in both right and left) first. The hip is not an imminent threat now, but the tongue, neck, and lungs are.
The plan is for me to see my oncologist, Dr. Gilbert, on Wednesday. She has already discussed possible trial therapies. Nothing she has to offer me is considered curative, but she believes we can add to the length and quality of my life possibly. We will further discuss these trial therapies along with a plan for moving forward on Wednesday.
Some of you might expect me to go quietly at this point, which is really one of the main reasons I write tonight. Why is it hard to believe that God can heal me from extremely aggressive cancer when we have no doubt that the same God created this universe? Like my sister said, "God is still so much bigger than all of this!"
I love all of you. Keep praying and believing. It is not naive - it is a chance to interact personally with the one true, living God.
Three times a day he got down on his knees and prayed, giving thanks to his God, just as he had done before. -Daniel 6:10
Thank you for getting on your knees for me.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
There is always, always something to be thankful for
Finally . . . encouraging words!
For most of the day, Daniel's pupil continued to be dilated abnormally. As the day wore on, though, it slowly returned to almost normal size. The neurologist said there might be one millimeter of difference between the two. All of the doctors who saw Daniel found no neurological problem and no evidence of tumor behind his eye. The general consensus is that Daniel accidentally rubbed his eye after touching the patch he wears on his neck for mucus control. The drug in the patch caused the pupil's response. After the worries of yesterday, we rejoice at such good news.
Daniel has continued to have tremendous pain upon swallowing today. It took the team of doctors until about 7:00 p.m. to get his pain under control, but they worked diligently, and now he feels much better. He has even talked and drunk water this evening, both of which were nearly impossible earlier in the day.
Since the pupil issue seems to be resolved, Daniel will most likely be discharged as soon as his pain is again under control. Instead of thinking about going home tonight, we could be considering treatment options for a nasty tumor.
As a dear friend often reminds me, there is always, always something to be thankful for.
Thank you so much for supporting Daniel in thoughts and prayers from your homes and understanding that he needs rest during this hospital stay.
Prayer requests:
1. Healing.
2. Mucus and pain control.
3. Continued bed rest when he gets home.
4. Strength and faith to begin new treatments.
5. Everyone who's suffering with an illness.
6. God's will - always.
For most of the day, Daniel's pupil continued to be dilated abnormally. As the day wore on, though, it slowly returned to almost normal size. The neurologist said there might be one millimeter of difference between the two. All of the doctors who saw Daniel found no neurological problem and no evidence of tumor behind his eye. The general consensus is that Daniel accidentally rubbed his eye after touching the patch he wears on his neck for mucus control. The drug in the patch caused the pupil's response. After the worries of yesterday, we rejoice at such good news.
Daniel has continued to have tremendous pain upon swallowing today. It took the team of doctors until about 7:00 p.m. to get his pain under control, but they worked diligently, and now he feels much better. He has even talked and drunk water this evening, both of which were nearly impossible earlier in the day.
Since the pupil issue seems to be resolved, Daniel will most likely be discharged as soon as his pain is again under control. Instead of thinking about going home tonight, we could be considering treatment options for a nasty tumor.
As a dear friend often reminds me, there is always, always something to be thankful for.
Thank you so much for supporting Daniel in thoughts and prayers from your homes and understanding that he needs rest during this hospital stay.
Prayer requests:
1. Healing.
2. Mucus and pain control.
3. Continued bed rest when he gets home.
4. Strength and faith to begin new treatments.
5. Everyone who's suffering with an illness.
6. God's will - always.
God's best to you all . . .
Doug
"O give thanks unto the LORD; for he is good; for his mercy endureth for ever." -I Chronicles 16:34
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Strong in the Spirit
The last few days have been rough on Daniel. He's struggled with a fever and a few other symptoms suggestive of some type of infection. One of his colleagues ordered some tests yesterday. The chest x-ray indicated a possible slight pneumonia, but it was difficult to be sure due to the nodules that are also present. To be safe, he was started on an antibiotic. The fever waned throughout the night, but Daniel never really felt better. In fact, by this morning, he felt really bad, his mouth pain was worse, and the mucus was still persistent.
We were scheduled to see Dr. Gilbert today as well as the orthopedic surgeon (for surgery follow-up and stitch removal). What we had expected to be a normal office visit with Dr. Gilbert quickly turned into something altogether different. While Daniel's vitals were being checked and just before we would have been taken to a patient room, I noticed that his right pupil was extremely dilated (the left one appeared normal). When I say extremely, I mean there was very little blue left. I told the nursing assistant that we needed to see someone right away. The nurse came quickly and looked at Daniel's eyes. She could not hide her worry. Dr. Gilbert came out next, examined his eyes, and told the nurse to set up a CT and an MRI immediately. Her fears, too, were apparent. We were then taken to a room where Dr. Gilbert explained that there could be a tumor behind Daniel's eye or perhaps a blood clot. Always positive, she said it was also possible that he had touched his scopolamine patch (used for mucus control) and then rubbed his eye. I must admit I feared this was just a glimmer of hope to help us get through the tests. Not that she's dishonest. She truly meant that was a possibility; I just didn't believe she thought that would be the case.
As soon as the tests were ordered, the nurse wheeled Daniel to radiology. Actually, she sprinted. Even with my long legs, I had trouble keeping up without jogging! Of course, her sense of urgency worried me more. Daniel made it through both tests, but his pain was moderate to severe. Lying flat on a table for a scan doesn't go well with a mouth full of mucus. We returned to the cancer clinic to hear the results. The CT results were in first and did not show any problems. Praise the Lord! While we waited for the MRI results, Dr. Gilbert sent Daniel to the infusion clinic to receive fluids and a few medications. Soon, she came by to report that the MRI was also negative. Another praise! She stated, though, that the problem was still present and she needed to find out its cause. Daniel had already told Dr. Gilbert earlier today that he needed to be admitted; she agreed and said she would have someone from neurology see him while he's inpatient.
For now, Daniel is resting. His pain is controlled at the moment. It's so good to see him sleep. On that note, I know all of you who can would like to visit Daniel while he's in the hospital, but this time, he just needs to rest. He will look forward to seeing all of you again when he has had time to recover.
Daniel hasn't been able to talk much lately, so I've had to be his voice. I knew on a couple of occasions that if he could speak he would ask some of his caregivers if they knew Christ. I can't say I've always been as bold as my brother in that regard, but I'm learning from him. Anyway, when I felt that I should, I asked for him. While Daniel was getting a chest x-ray tonight, I had a few minutes to speak to the nurse about the Lord. When I told Daniel she was a believer, he raised his hands to heaven in praise. His body is weak, but he is strong in the Spirit. If you know Daniel, you know that none of this is new for him.
God bless you for your prayers.
Doug
" . . . the joy of the Lord is your strength." -Nehemiah 8:10
We were scheduled to see Dr. Gilbert today as well as the orthopedic surgeon (for surgery follow-up and stitch removal). What we had expected to be a normal office visit with Dr. Gilbert quickly turned into something altogether different. While Daniel's vitals were being checked and just before we would have been taken to a patient room, I noticed that his right pupil was extremely dilated (the left one appeared normal). When I say extremely, I mean there was very little blue left. I told the nursing assistant that we needed to see someone right away. The nurse came quickly and looked at Daniel's eyes. She could not hide her worry. Dr. Gilbert came out next, examined his eyes, and told the nurse to set up a CT and an MRI immediately. Her fears, too, were apparent. We were then taken to a room where Dr. Gilbert explained that there could be a tumor behind Daniel's eye or perhaps a blood clot. Always positive, she said it was also possible that he had touched his scopolamine patch (used for mucus control) and then rubbed his eye. I must admit I feared this was just a glimmer of hope to help us get through the tests. Not that she's dishonest. She truly meant that was a possibility; I just didn't believe she thought that would be the case.
As soon as the tests were ordered, the nurse wheeled Daniel to radiology. Actually, she sprinted. Even with my long legs, I had trouble keeping up without jogging! Of course, her sense of urgency worried me more. Daniel made it through both tests, but his pain was moderate to severe. Lying flat on a table for a scan doesn't go well with a mouth full of mucus. We returned to the cancer clinic to hear the results. The CT results were in first and did not show any problems. Praise the Lord! While we waited for the MRI results, Dr. Gilbert sent Daniel to the infusion clinic to receive fluids and a few medications. Soon, she came by to report that the MRI was also negative. Another praise! She stated, though, that the problem was still present and she needed to find out its cause. Daniel had already told Dr. Gilbert earlier today that he needed to be admitted; she agreed and said she would have someone from neurology see him while he's inpatient.
For now, Daniel is resting. His pain is controlled at the moment. It's so good to see him sleep. On that note, I know all of you who can would like to visit Daniel while he's in the hospital, but this time, he just needs to rest. He will look forward to seeing all of you again when he has had time to recover.
Daniel hasn't been able to talk much lately, so I've had to be his voice. I knew on a couple of occasions that if he could speak he would ask some of his caregivers if they knew Christ. I can't say I've always been as bold as my brother in that regard, but I'm learning from him. Anyway, when I felt that I should, I asked for him. While Daniel was getting a chest x-ray tonight, I had a few minutes to speak to the nurse about the Lord. When I told Daniel she was a believer, he raised his hands to heaven in praise. His body is weak, but he is strong in the Spirit. If you know Daniel, you know that none of this is new for him.
God bless you for your prayers.
Doug
" . . . the joy of the Lord is your strength." -Nehemiah 8:10
Friday, September 5, 2008
Big praise!
Robert's surgery went so smoothly - listen to this big praise. He didn't even require any tongue reconstruction. There was no need for a flap or graft! He is eating today already!!! Thanks for your prayers and praise our gracious Papa!
Enjoy this blessed day,
Daniel
Enjoy this blessed day,
Daniel
Thursday, September 4, 2008
God is STILL - EVEN STILL my doctor
Just a quick update to relay my test results. More from the heart will come later, God-willing.
CT of the brain was negative.
As expected, since oral cancer usually spreads from head to neck to lungs, etc., there are about 10 small nodules in my lungs consistent with metastatic disease.
The abdominal CT was clean other than a possible spot on the liver. It could be metastasis, but it could also be a hepatic cyst, which is pretty common.
This news does not change the treatment plan. As soon as Dr. Gilbert thinks I am strong enough, she will begin my next round of chemo.
More to come later, but I wanted to get this information out as quickly as possible.
Just remember, God is in control, and He is still my doctor - even still. I love Him SO much - not nearly as much as he deserves, though.
One more thing I have to say. I know it's possible that some of you reading feel sorry for me. You wonder when I will ever just accept what the doctors are saying and give up. What God says is what interests me. Trust me, I understand my medical, human outlook - it's about as grim as they come. There is something we must remember, though. God numbered my days and ordered my steps. He will heal me in one of two ways: I will be cancer free or I will be free in Heaven thanks to the sacrifice of Jesus, the beautiful one on the cross.
I love you all. Hope to talk with you really soon.
CT of the brain was negative.
As expected, since oral cancer usually spreads from head to neck to lungs, etc., there are about 10 small nodules in my lungs consistent with metastatic disease.
The abdominal CT was clean other than a possible spot on the liver. It could be metastasis, but it could also be a hepatic cyst, which is pretty common.
This news does not change the treatment plan. As soon as Dr. Gilbert thinks I am strong enough, she will begin my next round of chemo.
More to come later, but I wanted to get this information out as quickly as possible.
Just remember, God is in control, and He is still my doctor - even still. I love Him SO much - not nearly as much as he deserves, though.
One more thing I have to say. I know it's possible that some of you reading feel sorry for me. You wonder when I will ever just accept what the doctors are saying and give up. What God says is what interests me. Trust me, I understand my medical, human outlook - it's about as grim as they come. There is something we must remember, though. God numbered my days and ordered my steps. He will heal me in one of two ways: I will be cancer free or I will be free in Heaven thanks to the sacrifice of Jesus, the beautiful one on the cross.
I love you all. Hope to talk with you really soon.
God is STILL my doctor
It's been a while since we've talked, and I've missed you. Brother always does an immaculate job, though, and I was a touch busy as you know.
For those of you wondering, I am doing well where the hip is concerned. It is sore, of course, but I am walking very well with walker or crutches. Sometimes, I almost forget that I need them, so I expect to be back to my normal self where that is concerned very soon.
My most notable physical ailments at the time are my mouth sores and mucus. I know this will seem unbelievable to those of you who visited me in the hospital as I probably talked you into the floor below us. You must understand, however, that I had been given a medicine during surgery to decrease my mucus (a medicine that apparently is available only in IV form) which was very successful. Also, I was on fluids constantly, which tends to help. Finally, I just think God gave us that time together - the most important variable. Since getting home from the hospital, things have changed dramatically. My mouth is flooded with mucus and hammered by sores. I am 4 weeks out of radiation today. The radiation oncologist told me I would be much better in 6 weeks - I really hope he is correct. Right now, I am back to writing notes or typing them on computer. Talking just seems to make the sores hurt worse, and the mucus makes it very difficult, as well.
I had a follow-up appointment with Dr. Gilbert, my oncologist, yesterday. As you will recall, she explained before the hip surgery that with the metastasis, our strategy would have to change from curative to increasing the quality of and prolonging my life. My chances of cure from a medical standpoint went from 40% to 0%. Yesterday, she offered a time frame. She stated that if my cancer "follows the book, and it never has," I could expect to be here about 6-9 months. Of course, since my cancer has been much more aggressive than expected at every turn, that could be a much smaller number.
We then discussed the new treatment plan. I will need focused radiation to the right hip to avoid tumor return there and for pain relief (about 2-3 weeks of treatment). As soon as my energy and strength are improved, I will begin another chemotherapy regimen designed to keep would-be tumors at bay. If these drugs are unsuccessful, there are clinical trials available, as well. Dr. Gilbert stated she has seen these drugs have no effect, but she has also seen them give a patient in my shoes 2 years. If at any time during treatment, the treatment becomes worse than the cancer, we will stop it and do something else. She made it very clear that I would be in control of the process.
She also ordered CT scans of my head, chest, and abdomen yesterday to search for further metastasis.
What I want you to remember is that we already knew the earthly prognosis was this grim. We knew it as soon as we found out about the metastasis. Having a number does not change anything, because no one but God can guarantee a number anyway. Also, while the medical world tells us there's no hope, I'm reminded that with God there is always hope. Remember an earlier post where a friend had pointed out to me that God is my doctor? God is still my doctor! He is unimpressed by the cancer book.
My family and I have not given up hope on our miracle. We know that if God so chooses, He has more than enough power to heal me, and we continue to ask Him for complete healing. We do acknowledge, though, that healing may not be His will. Whatever His plan, know that it is perfect. It may not fit our idea of perfect, but perfect it remains. His glorification matters most. May He be glorified in my life or in my death.
Requests:
1. My friend Robert is in surgery now (9/4). Pray! Wife's name is Kim. 2 sons. Same cancer as me - caught earlier we hope.
2. Mr. Carroll - battling oral cancer.
3. Relief from mouth sores and mucus - I want to eat real food with family and friends again!
4. Continued hip healing and success with walking.
5. To get to go back to work on some level as soon as possible.
6. To bring glory to the Father each day.
7. Unwavering faith and trust in the One who is mighty to save.
Praises:
1. God, our Papa, is beautiful, strong, good, and constant!
2. Remember that song, "Oh, How I Love Jesus?" Oh, how I love Jesus!!!
3. God doesn't sleep.
Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. -Matthew 6:34
For those of you wondering, I am doing well where the hip is concerned. It is sore, of course, but I am walking very well with walker or crutches. Sometimes, I almost forget that I need them, so I expect to be back to my normal self where that is concerned very soon.
My most notable physical ailments at the time are my mouth sores and mucus. I know this will seem unbelievable to those of you who visited me in the hospital as I probably talked you into the floor below us. You must understand, however, that I had been given a medicine during surgery to decrease my mucus (a medicine that apparently is available only in IV form) which was very successful. Also, I was on fluids constantly, which tends to help. Finally, I just think God gave us that time together - the most important variable. Since getting home from the hospital, things have changed dramatically. My mouth is flooded with mucus and hammered by sores. I am 4 weeks out of radiation today. The radiation oncologist told me I would be much better in 6 weeks - I really hope he is correct. Right now, I am back to writing notes or typing them on computer. Talking just seems to make the sores hurt worse, and the mucus makes it very difficult, as well.
I had a follow-up appointment with Dr. Gilbert, my oncologist, yesterday. As you will recall, she explained before the hip surgery that with the metastasis, our strategy would have to change from curative to increasing the quality of and prolonging my life. My chances of cure from a medical standpoint went from 40% to 0%. Yesterday, she offered a time frame. She stated that if my cancer "follows the book, and it never has," I could expect to be here about 6-9 months. Of course, since my cancer has been much more aggressive than expected at every turn, that could be a much smaller number.
We then discussed the new treatment plan. I will need focused radiation to the right hip to avoid tumor return there and for pain relief (about 2-3 weeks of treatment). As soon as my energy and strength are improved, I will begin another chemotherapy regimen designed to keep would-be tumors at bay. If these drugs are unsuccessful, there are clinical trials available, as well. Dr. Gilbert stated she has seen these drugs have no effect, but she has also seen them give a patient in my shoes 2 years. If at any time during treatment, the treatment becomes worse than the cancer, we will stop it and do something else. She made it very clear that I would be in control of the process.
She also ordered CT scans of my head, chest, and abdomen yesterday to search for further metastasis.
What I want you to remember is that we already knew the earthly prognosis was this grim. We knew it as soon as we found out about the metastasis. Having a number does not change anything, because no one but God can guarantee a number anyway. Also, while the medical world tells us there's no hope, I'm reminded that with God there is always hope. Remember an earlier post where a friend had pointed out to me that God is my doctor? God is still my doctor! He is unimpressed by the cancer book.
My family and I have not given up hope on our miracle. We know that if God so chooses, He has more than enough power to heal me, and we continue to ask Him for complete healing. We do acknowledge, though, that healing may not be His will. Whatever His plan, know that it is perfect. It may not fit our idea of perfect, but perfect it remains. His glorification matters most. May He be glorified in my life or in my death.
Requests:
1. My friend Robert is in surgery now (9/4). Pray! Wife's name is Kim. 2 sons. Same cancer as me - caught earlier we hope.
2. Mr. Carroll - battling oral cancer.
3. Relief from mouth sores and mucus - I want to eat real food with family and friends again!
4. Continued hip healing and success with walking.
5. To get to go back to work on some level as soon as possible.
6. To bring glory to the Father each day.
7. Unwavering faith and trust in the One who is mighty to save.
Praises:
1. God, our Papa, is beautiful, strong, good, and constant!
2. Remember that song, "Oh, How I Love Jesus?" Oh, how I love Jesus!!!
3. God doesn't sleep.
Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. -Matthew 6:34
Thursday, August 28, 2008
God is in the room
For most of us, yesterday would have been frightening, depressing, and lonely on so many levels - and that's it. But you know Daniel; for him, it was so much more.
As we waited for him to be escorted to surgery, we shared and prayed. We knew God was in the room. The night before we had discussed with Daniel that we would do our best not to cry and carry on as he was taken to the operating room. To remind us of how God likes to work, the lady who came to transport Daniel began praising God as soon as she entered the room. She came earlier than we expected and said the doctor was already waiting for him. She took time, though, to ask if she could say a "word of prayer" first. Quickly, we gathered around Daniel's bed, held hands, and proceeded to hear one of the most heartfelt and beautiful prayers we'd ever heard. Everyone's tensions were eased, and our new friend continued to speak peace to Daniel, Mom, and me as we entered the pre-op holding area. God was in the room.
The anesthesiologists and surgeons were worried that because of Daniel's enlarged neck nodes his airway might be encroached upon, which would make intubation very difficult. The anesthesiologist told us that if Daniel's airway proved to be a problem, he might need to be intubated longer than normal and might even have to spend the night in ICU. Naturally, this was cause for concern, but the anesthesiologist was so personable and thorough that she calmed us quickly. Later news came from the OR that intubation had gone smoothly - no complications. God was in the room.
Waiting for progress reports from the nurse was difficult, but we were blessed to have a whole passel of family and friends supporting us and Daniel here at the hospital and, of course, even more all over the place! Thank you all! After waiting a few hours, we were called to meet with the surgeon. He explained that the surgery went very well with no complications and said that Daniel's hip pain should subside once the surgery pain is gone. God was in the room.
The surgeon said that Daniel will require two to three weeks of focused radiation to the hip to help prevent the tumor's return. He also said he noticed three millimeter-sized spots in Daniel's lungs that had not been seen before. He doesn't know what they represent. We will deal with that later. God will be in the room.
Last night was trying. At one point Daniel told me his pain was as bad as his worst tongue cancer pain, maybe even worse. His pain regimen is being adjusted, and today is a much better day. Those of you who saw Daniel yesterday would be much happier if you saw him today.
Please continue to pray for Daniel's healing. We know that God has all power and CAN heal him completely if He so chooses. I heard Daniel tell someone this week that either way, he wins. While all of us want Daniel to be with us for many years, we know that we have no power over life and death. Daniel has told me more than once this summer that we could die in an accident on the way to the doctor to help me remember that God is always ultimately in control. And, of course, no matter what we face, God will be in the room.
God bless you all for your love and support of our family.
Still trusting,
Doug
As we waited for him to be escorted to surgery, we shared and prayed. We knew God was in the room. The night before we had discussed with Daniel that we would do our best not to cry and carry on as he was taken to the operating room. To remind us of how God likes to work, the lady who came to transport Daniel began praising God as soon as she entered the room. She came earlier than we expected and said the doctor was already waiting for him. She took time, though, to ask if she could say a "word of prayer" first. Quickly, we gathered around Daniel's bed, held hands, and proceeded to hear one of the most heartfelt and beautiful prayers we'd ever heard. Everyone's tensions were eased, and our new friend continued to speak peace to Daniel, Mom, and me as we entered the pre-op holding area. God was in the room.
The anesthesiologists and surgeons were worried that because of Daniel's enlarged neck nodes his airway might be encroached upon, which would make intubation very difficult. The anesthesiologist told us that if Daniel's airway proved to be a problem, he might need to be intubated longer than normal and might even have to spend the night in ICU. Naturally, this was cause for concern, but the anesthesiologist was so personable and thorough that she calmed us quickly. Later news came from the OR that intubation had gone smoothly - no complications. God was in the room.
Waiting for progress reports from the nurse was difficult, but we were blessed to have a whole passel of family and friends supporting us and Daniel here at the hospital and, of course, even more all over the place! Thank you all! After waiting a few hours, we were called to meet with the surgeon. He explained that the surgery went very well with no complications and said that Daniel's hip pain should subside once the surgery pain is gone. God was in the room.
The surgeon said that Daniel will require two to three weeks of focused radiation to the hip to help prevent the tumor's return. He also said he noticed three millimeter-sized spots in Daniel's lungs that had not been seen before. He doesn't know what they represent. We will deal with that later. God will be in the room.
Last night was trying. At one point Daniel told me his pain was as bad as his worst tongue cancer pain, maybe even worse. His pain regimen is being adjusted, and today is a much better day. Those of you who saw Daniel yesterday would be much happier if you saw him today.
Please continue to pray for Daniel's healing. We know that God has all power and CAN heal him completely if He so chooses. I heard Daniel tell someone this week that either way, he wins. While all of us want Daniel to be with us for many years, we know that we have no power over life and death. Daniel has told me more than once this summer that we could die in an accident on the way to the doctor to help me remember that God is always ultimately in control. And, of course, no matter what we face, God will be in the room.
God bless you all for your love and support of our family.
Still trusting,
Doug
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Loving-kind
Many of you have heard my latest news by now, but in case you haven't, I received the results of my MRI and x-rays today. It appears that the cancer has metastasized to my right hip. There is a golf-ball-sized tumor on the socket (acetabulum). Of course, there is always the possibility that this is another primary cancer, but that is highly unlikely. At this point, I haven't had any additional scans, so I cannot tell you if there has been spreading to other areas. What I can tell you is that I am scheduled to have surgery on the hip this Thursday at Vanderbilt. I will be admitted tomorrow for some pre-operative work, and I will probably have some additional scanning at that point. Most additional scanning, however, will be reserved for after I have recovered from hip surgery since it is the most emergent concern.
Dr. Gilbert and Dr. Swartz (the orthopedic surgeon) both stressed that this is not a curative surgery. The goal is pain control and prevention of fracture, which would be almost inevitable if something isn't done very soon.
Dr. Gilbert also stressed that our goal with my treatment in general has now shifted from cure to giving me the best quality of life for the remainder of my life - however long that may be. She does not attempt to give me a time frame, because no human can do that at this point. Medically speaking, I could have weeks, months, even years. No one, but our Great God can give us an answer to that question. As the song Healer says, "He holds my world in His hands."
Indeed, He does hold my world, your world ... the entire world in His loving-kind hands. Of course, there is no adjective that describes adequately what it feels like to be told that
you are dying. There are plenty, however, to describe the God I attempt to serve, and I would prefer to focus on Him. Loving-kind is one of my favorites. It just has a special ring to it, and it is so true of God's character. There is one who never doubted the goodness of God in the most perilous of times. Job pointed out several things that I have discussed before, but I think it is time to revisit them ...
Man's days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed. -Job 14:5
Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him. -Job 13:15
I know that you can do all things. No plan of yours can be thwarted. -Job 42:2
I would love to write more, and I hope to be able to do that soon, but I need rest now. I do want to leave you with some important thoughts, though.
Remember ...
God is my doctor.
God is not frightened by cancer.
God decided how many days I have, and he has known since Before There Was Time (a great song by Caedmon's Call).
God remains undisturbed in the face of news that can rock us to the core.
GOD IS IN CONTROL.
I love you all - even those of you whom I have never met. I love you, because Jesus Christ loved you and me first. We have talked a lot about a personal relationshp with Christ. Because of that relationship, death (though not preferred) represents gain. In death, those of us who have trusted Christ for forgiveness through His sacrifice on the cross, gain the joy of being in His presence! In life, we have the joy of resting (if we will) in communion with Him every day. As I have asked before, if you don't understand this relationship that He offers, please talk with someone who can lead you to a better understanding of Him. Life is too short to wait. We have no guarantee of tomorrow.
Make no mistake, God is cabable of healing me if He so chooses, and I will continue to pray that He heal me if it is in His will. If He chooses otherwise, He is still my loving-kind Father, and I hope, if you haven't already, that you will make Him yours.
Back to tomorrow ... as one of my favorite old hymns says (and, I may be repeating myself), I don't know about tomorrow, but I know who holds my hand.
Dr. Gilbert and Dr. Swartz (the orthopedic surgeon) both stressed that this is not a curative surgery. The goal is pain control and prevention of fracture, which would be almost inevitable if something isn't done very soon.
Dr. Gilbert also stressed that our goal with my treatment in general has now shifted from cure to giving me the best quality of life for the remainder of my life - however long that may be. She does not attempt to give me a time frame, because no human can do that at this point. Medically speaking, I could have weeks, months, even years. No one, but our Great God can give us an answer to that question. As the song Healer says, "He holds my world in His hands."
Indeed, He does hold my world, your world ... the entire world in His loving-kind hands. Of course, there is no adjective that describes adequately what it feels like to be told that
you are dying. There are plenty, however, to describe the God I attempt to serve, and I would prefer to focus on Him. Loving-kind is one of my favorites. It just has a special ring to it, and it is so true of God's character. There is one who never doubted the goodness of God in the most perilous of times. Job pointed out several things that I have discussed before, but I think it is time to revisit them ...
Man's days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed. -Job 14:5
Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him. -Job 13:15
I know that you can do all things. No plan of yours can be thwarted. -Job 42:2
I would love to write more, and I hope to be able to do that soon, but I need rest now. I do want to leave you with some important thoughts, though.
Remember ...
God is my doctor.
God is not frightened by cancer.
God decided how many days I have, and he has known since Before There Was Time (a great song by Caedmon's Call).
God remains undisturbed in the face of news that can rock us to the core.
GOD IS IN CONTROL.
I love you all - even those of you whom I have never met. I love you, because Jesus Christ loved you and me first. We have talked a lot about a personal relationshp with Christ. Because of that relationship, death (though not preferred) represents gain. In death, those of us who have trusted Christ for forgiveness through His sacrifice on the cross, gain the joy of being in His presence! In life, we have the joy of resting (if we will) in communion with Him every day. As I have asked before, if you don't understand this relationship that He offers, please talk with someone who can lead you to a better understanding of Him. Life is too short to wait. We have no guarantee of tomorrow.
Make no mistake, God is cabable of healing me if He so chooses, and I will continue to pray that He heal me if it is in His will. If He chooses otherwise, He is still my loving-kind Father, and I hope, if you haven't already, that you will make Him yours.
Back to tomorrow ... as one of my favorite old hymns says (and, I may be repeating myself), I don't know about tomorrow, but I know who holds my hand.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Quick update
I mentioned having pain in my right hip in my last entry. Since that post, the pain has been very intense at times, affecting my walking. I expect this is probably muscular and caused by sitting in one spot for so much of the day and night. Dr. Gilbert is concerned, though, and wants to make sure that the cancer has not spread.
Today at 530, I am scheduled for MRI of the hips and pelvis along with an x-ray of the right femur.
I do not believe this is cancer, but I would still appreciate your prayers. Obviously, there is a certain bit of alarm associated with your doctor ordering tests to rule out spread of cancer.
God remains in control, though, and I will place my trust in Him by asking that he protect me from any spread of this cancer. I continue to ask that He heal me completely if it is according to His will, but first and foremost, I pray that He be glorified in my response to this challenge. It's all about Jesus - everything, always.
Thank you for your prayers.
Also, thank you for praying faithfully for the others I have mentioned here. Robert Marascalco now has a Caring Bridge site where you can keep up with his progress. I have added a link in my links section. Please visit when you can. He and his family would be very appreciative.
A dear supporter sent me a card in the mail that said, "Don't worry about tomorrow ... God is already there." I love that! It cited Jeremiah 29:11. Look that one up if you don't know it - you'll be glad you did. Have a wonderful day.
Today at 530, I am scheduled for MRI of the hips and pelvis along with an x-ray of the right femur.
I do not believe this is cancer, but I would still appreciate your prayers. Obviously, there is a certain bit of alarm associated with your doctor ordering tests to rule out spread of cancer.
God remains in control, though, and I will place my trust in Him by asking that he protect me from any spread of this cancer. I continue to ask that He heal me completely if it is according to His will, but first and foremost, I pray that He be glorified in my response to this challenge. It's all about Jesus - everything, always.
Thank you for your prayers.
Also, thank you for praying faithfully for the others I have mentioned here. Robert Marascalco now has a Caring Bridge site where you can keep up with his progress. I have added a link in my links section. Please visit when you can. He and his family would be very appreciative.
A dear supporter sent me a card in the mail that said, "Don't worry about tomorrow ... God is already there." I love that! It cited Jeremiah 29:11. Look that one up if you don't know it - you'll be glad you did. Have a wonderful day.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Perfect in weakness
My bible highlights certain verses in little boxes with a special caption. I just had one of those moments where I felt like opening to random pages until I found the verse I needed today. Do you ever do that? Have you noticed that it never seems to take long? Mine ended up being in one of those little boxes today ...
The caption says, "God Shines In Our Darkest Moments." The verse says ...
But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. -2 Corinthians 12:9
I'm writing a quick note today asking for your prayers. I know you are all praying already, and I feel like a broken record asking. I believe in your prayers, though, and I know you want to know. The second half of yesterday was rough. Today has brought some relief, but I wanted to fill you in on the current challenges. The mucus is about the same, but the mouth sores have been on fire. I have been having to use my numbing medication very frequently. This is particularly disheartening, because I had begun trying to drink some high calorie supplements to help with strengthening. With the sores being more painful, I will have to back off that. I feel like I am making them worse, which will prolong getting back to regular food, and I certainly don't want to do that. Also, I have developed some right hip pain that is no doubt due to sitting in a chair for so much of the day (I have to sleep in a chair due to my mucus and to feed at night).
Please pray for deliverance from these obstacles. I trust what He says - that His power is made perfect in my weakness. I am definitely weak right now, but I know He is sufficient - always more than enough. Thank you for approaching Him on my behalf.
Also, continue to pray for Mr. Carroll. He had his first chemo yesterday. He will have another round today and tomorrow and then a break until next week. Pray that he will not experience difficult side effects.
And, continue to remember my friend, Robert Marascalco. His surgery is scheduled for September 4th. He is in a good deal of pain, but still working. Pray for strength and healing.
Finally, remember my friend Jay's dad, Stan Cross. I believe I mentioned him before. He has lymphoma, not oral cancer, like the others. He is currently undergoing 6-8 months of chemo. Remember him and his family.
Thank you all so very much. You have no idea what your prayers mean to me. I love you, I thank the Father for you, and I hope you are all having a wonderful week.
The caption says, "God Shines In Our Darkest Moments." The verse says ...
But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. -2 Corinthians 12:9
I'm writing a quick note today asking for your prayers. I know you are all praying already, and I feel like a broken record asking. I believe in your prayers, though, and I know you want to know. The second half of yesterday was rough. Today has brought some relief, but I wanted to fill you in on the current challenges. The mucus is about the same, but the mouth sores have been on fire. I have been having to use my numbing medication very frequently. This is particularly disheartening, because I had begun trying to drink some high calorie supplements to help with strengthening. With the sores being more painful, I will have to back off that. I feel like I am making them worse, which will prolong getting back to regular food, and I certainly don't want to do that. Also, I have developed some right hip pain that is no doubt due to sitting in a chair for so much of the day (I have to sleep in a chair due to my mucus and to feed at night).
Please pray for deliverance from these obstacles. I trust what He says - that His power is made perfect in my weakness. I am definitely weak right now, but I know He is sufficient - always more than enough. Thank you for approaching Him on my behalf.
Also, continue to pray for Mr. Carroll. He had his first chemo yesterday. He will have another round today and tomorrow and then a break until next week. Pray that he will not experience difficult side effects.
And, continue to remember my friend, Robert Marascalco. His surgery is scheduled for September 4th. He is in a good deal of pain, but still working. Pray for strength and healing.
Finally, remember my friend Jay's dad, Stan Cross. I believe I mentioned him before. He has lymphoma, not oral cancer, like the others. He is currently undergoing 6-8 months of chemo. Remember him and his family.
Thank you all so very much. You have no idea what your prayers mean to me. I love you, I thank the Father for you, and I hope you are all having a wonderful week.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Widely opened arms
Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits - who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's. -Psalm 103:1-5
Until now, several days between posts have meant that I wasn't feeling well physically or lacked the emotional energy to write. This time, it has meant something quite different. I have been filled with gratitude to the Father for the amazing things He has done. I should have shared sooner, but I suppose I have been stingy with the news - content basking in His deliverance.
If you read the last entry, you probably still feel like you need a shower after all the talk of mucus. I made that post last Tuesday. The mucus had stolen almost all the happiness surrounding the end of my radiation therapy - until Thursday. Something changed on Thursday. Don't misunderstand. There is still plenty of mucus, but it has become SO much more manageable. There is less of it, it is thinner, and it is causing much less nausea. While talking is still a challenge due to the constant build-up, I am beginning to be able to carry on a decent conversation (muffled, but decent) without spitting incessantly.
I cannot explain to you what a difference this has made in my outlook. I'm sure this must all seem a bit melodramatic if you have not had the experience personally, but you'll have to trust me. I realize I come from dramatic stock, but there has been no exaggeration of circumstances here. Not only has this improvement been a psychological blessing, but also it has been a physical one. I felt like having Dad take me for several drives in the past few days, and I made it to church again yesterday. As I'm sure you can imagine, it is very difficult to go from never stopping to sitting in a chair most of the day. That makes these little victories not so little. I am so thankful to my precious Heavenly Father (but not enough, I know).
I saw Dr. Gilbert, my oncologist, again on Friday. She remains pleased with my progress. Again, she feels like my tongue itself continues to look better, but remains concerned about the significantly swollen lymph node on the left side of my neck. You may remember that this node along with one other showed up as suspicious for cancer on my PET scan. The hope was that both nodes would be non-palpable by the conclusion of radiation and chemotherapy. Indeed, this seems true for one of them (thank you, Father), but there remains one rather large node. As I have reported in earlier posts, Dr. Gilbert expects this to be removed surgically as soon as possible.
My appointment with the surgeon, Dr. Netterville, is scheduled for August 28th. Medically speaking, there is still a possibility that the node will shrink by then, but it does not seem probable. Also medically speaking, it seems inevitable that Dr. Netterville will opt to remove the node and any other suspicious ones to be completely safe (it is unclear right now how quickly he would schedule this to be done). God speaking, He is my ultimate physician, and I still pray that surgery won't be necessary. I pray that especially where my tongue is concerned, but I pray it for my neck, as well. To my friends in the medical community, I do understand that it seems naive for me to think that I might not have to have surgery on my neck. We have to take off the stethoscope every now and then, though, and remember that with God all things are possible. Therefore, until a surgery is scheduled, I will pray that God spares me. If He does not, I will trust Him on that operating table.
Also noteworthy from Friday is the fact that I have actually lost more or at least appear to have lost more weight. Until this last appointment, I had been getting about 4 pounds worth of IV fluids just before my appointments with Dr. Gilbert. On Friday, I did not. Obviously, this was falsely inflating my weight somewhat, but even without this information, Dr. Gilbert was not concerned. She expects this is due to an increase in my metabolic rate and assures me that there is no cause for alarm. This makes sense, because I feel better every day. Also, I have increased my activity, but had not increased my calories. We have increased my tube feeding since Friday, and starting on Saturday, I began to try soft foods and liquids again. Swallowing is still difficult due to the scarring from radiation and my taste is still quite distorted, but so far I have been able to manage without any choking or significant nausea. Therefore, I hope to begin gaining weight again. Of course, I will have to be patient.
When last we talked about weight, I think I estimated about a 20 pound loss, but it appears I have lost more like 30 pounds total. A picture was taken while I was getting fluids on Friday. I decided to post it, because I thought most of you would be interested in seeing the change. I hope it does not make anyone feel sad. Remember, God has carried me through the rough treatment phase. Now, He will strengthen me.
Just to give you a comparison, here is a photo taken with some friends in late April shortly after my diagnosis was made.
From left: Angela Sadler, Ray Sadler, Sara Acara, Cindy
Comperry, Me, Randy Smith, Lizzy Smith. Front: Georgia.
That's more than enough appointment recall - let's get to the important stuff. I read a lot in the Psalms yesterday, because it is filled with worship offerings to our Great God like the one used at the beginning of this post. There are so many to choose from. I encourage you to pick out a couple and really sing, shout, whisper, pray, or cry them out to Him today. He deserves our unending adoration - our unending, audible adoration.
Here are a few more selections on which to reflect:
Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth. Worship the Lord with gladness; come before him with joyful songs. Know that the Lord is God. It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, the sheep of his pasture. Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name. For the Lord is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations. -Psalm 100:1-5
Come, let us sing for joy to the Lord; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation. Let us come before him with thanksgiving and extol him with music and song. For the Lord is the great God, the great King above all gods. In his hand are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to him. The sea is his for he made it, and his hands formed the dry land. Come, let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the Lord our Maker; for he is our God and we are the people of his pasture, the flock under his care. -Psalm 95:1-7
Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere; I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked. For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor; no good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless. O Lord Almighty, blessed is the man who trusts in you. -Psalm 84:10-12
I will sing of the Lord's great love forever; with my mouth I will make your faithfulness known through all generations. -Psalm 89:1
Bottom line: I cannot thank Him enough for what He has done and is doing. I simply don't have the words or ability to express adequately how He has come to my rescue in the last few days. I'm glad He can see the heart, and I hope He finds it bursting with gratitude. The road ahead is still uncertain, but as the wonderful old hymn says ... "I know who holds tomorrow, and I know who holds my hand." Thank you, Jesus, for holding our hands even when we doubt your presence.
The Psalm used at the beginning of this post spoke of God forgiving all our sins and healing all our diseases. While I am grateful that He has the power to heal all our diseases and I believe He is choosing to do just that with mine, it doesn't matter if all our diseases are healed but we miss the forgiveness of sins. I know many of you reading this blog already know Jesus as your Savior. I pray that you continue to grow in your relationships with Him. If there is anyone reading, however, who has not begun a personal relationship with Jesus ... please consider His beautiful invitation. Forget what you've heard about Him. Pick up the Bible for yourself and learn who He really is and what He desires for you. Start in John 3. He did not come to condemn. He came to know, love, and rescue us all. He waits with widely opened arms.
Prayer requests:
1. No surgery, especially on the tongue.
2. Continued recovery and relief from side effects.
3. Protection from nausea and choking as I try to get back to a normal diet.
4. Strength to return to work soon.
5. Mr. Carroll - his first chemo treatment is tomorrow. He is in a lot of pain right now.
6. My new friend, Robert Marascalco, who is also 34 years old and recently diagnosed with tongue cancer. He should receive some important test results today. He expects to be having surgery soon. He has a wife and two young children. Please keep him in your prayers as he begins this journey.
Praises:1. Couldn't begin to name them all.
2. Less mucus!
3. Feeling stronger!
4. The obvious presence of the Father.
5. Insurance.
6. A family who serves and serves and serves.
7. Extended family and friends who love me so well.
Soak yourself in the blessings of every moment this week. Savor all the wonderful little things. God bless you all.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Downright joy
Then he got into the boat and his disciples followed him. Without warning, a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. The disciples went and woke him, saying, "Lord, save us! We're going to drown!" He replied, "You of little faith, why are you so afraid?" Then, he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm. The men were amazed and asked, "What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him!" Matthew 8:23-27
Imagine the sting of Jesus pointing out your lack of faith face to face? How many times have we read this passage and thought the disciples were dull for not trusting they would be okay with Jesus at their side? I know it has crossed my mind. I am often lacking in faith myself, though. How about you?
I've been absent from you for a week now. From your emails, texts, and posts, I know you were all overjoyed that my treatment had come to a close. Indeed, it was and is cause for much joy, and I greatly appreciate your celebration on my behalf. I will not miss chemotherapy infusions. Infinitely more, I will not miss having my head bolted, for lack of a better descriptor, underneath a wicked looking mask to a radiation table. Here, I should pause and praise the Father for being on that table with me every day. I'm not sure I've done that yet, but He deserves it. At first, it was quite overwhelming to lie down on that table, but He quickly revealed that He would be there every day. He was. One of my greatest fears was having a vomiting episode during a treatment as mucus collected in my mouth. I prayed for protection from that - He never allowed it to happen. He was always there just as He had promised He would be. May we never forget His promise in the first chapter of Joshua.
If you count today, it has been 5 days since I had a radiation treatment. Am I elated about that? Absolutely! Praise the Father in Heaven it has come to an end! You might have expected to hear this from me sooner, so let me try to explain where I am now and how it relates to the disciples and their boating incident. I have been warned from the start that the side effects of this treatment regimen would be grizzly. I have shared many of the possibilities with you - severely sore throat, mouth ulcerations, neck burn, neck stiffness, tooth decay, and thick, copious mucus among many other possibilities. So far, my neck has held up really well. I have mildly burned skin, which is looking better every day and never reached the painful point that many patients must endure. My neck is not overly stiff. I do have a severely sore throat when I attempt to swallow. I do have multiple ulcerations in my mouth. I have medication to numb those, and I am tolerating them. My teeth seem to have weathered the storm, as well. The constant mucus production has been my most challenging side effect by far. It is so hard to explain and not a very pleasant topic to read about I'm sure. The best I can do to help you understand is to imagine your mouth producing thick, odorous mucus 24/7. I imagine you must think, "Big deal - it's just a little mucus!" That's exactly the thing, though - it's not a little mucus at all. It is mucus, mucus, mucus everywhere in your mouth all day long. The thickness, the threat of vomiting, and the pain of the mouth sores make it hard to expectorate.
The mucus also delays my resumption of real food, so I remain on a feeding tube. Thankfully, I am maintaining my weight with the tube, so I just have to remind myself that this challenge will pass, as well. My hope is that by the time the mucus has subsided enough to try eating, my throat soreness will have diminished some, as well. I have high hopes of eating at least broths and soft foods by another week or so. Also, since the mucus is so thick and it is still hard to take in enough fluids, I am getting IV fluids every day for the next couple of weeks. We have gotten this set up at home, and it is going well.
Every transition in my treatment process brings major psychological adjustment. Yes, it was great to be home, great to be done with radiation, great that in just a few weeks I could be eating again ... BUT, it was so daunting to think about starting IV fluids at home every day (more tubes!), so daunting to think about never ending mucus that could last as much as 6 weeks, and so daunting to think that though I had made it through treatment a waiting period had begun. I quickly realized that I would have to wait weeks to see when the mucus would clear, when I could eat, when I could get rid of my feeding tube, when I could get rid of my anti-nausea pump, and when I might or might not have to have surgery on the nodes in my neck! Do you sense the anxiety? It was just overwhelming for a day or two, and I must admit, I did not do well. I have sent many of you pleas for fervent prayer over the last few days. I still covet those prayers.
When I opened my devotion today, however, I realized that I had not been exercising much faith over the last few days. Oh me of little faith! Yes, this mucus is the most mind-numbing thing I think I have ever had to endure, but have I forgotten that He is here? Have I forgotten the pain he endured? Have I forgotten that there are others suffering more than I could ever imagine? Have I forgotten that He calms storms?
As it turns out, I'm quite a bit like those frightened disciples. Perhaps I wasn't absolutely confident that He would be the God of this mucus. Oswald Chambers says, "What a pang will go through us when we suddenly realize that we might have produced downright joy in the heart of Jesus by remaining absolutely confident in Him, no matter what was ahead."
Let us believe Him from the beginning of our crisis so as to create downright joy in Him. I would so much rather offer Him downright joy than a lackluster faith. Father, forgive me for where I have had the slightest doubt that you would deliver from the beginning to the end!
With all that said, I do have several important requests for you:
1. Pray for rapid resolution of these side effects. Obviously, the mucus is at the top of my list. I am anxious to get back to eating, working, and seeing all of you.
2. My third grade teacher, a wonderful woman named Faye Franklin, passed away yesterday after battling cancer for many years. Please remember her family (husband Nick and daughters Lora and Holli) in your prayers. She was a very gifted teacher, and she will be remembered so fondly having touched countless lives.
3. Continue to pray for Mr. Carroll. His doctors have found that the cancer involves his chest, as well. He has an appointment tomorrow for next steps. Please remember him, his wife, and his son and family - my friends Brian and Elizabeth Carroll. They have two young daughters, Hannah and Emma. Navigating their questions during this time can be difficult.
Let us not forget to offer praise, as well.
1. Praise Him that radiation is over!
2. Praise Him that He is God of the side effects that remain!
3. Praise Him that He has promised to walk with us through any fire that is to come - from the beginning!
4. Praise Him because He is worthy of never ending gratitude!
5. My friend Bryan Larson continues to make progress. Check out his link if you have time.
Imagine the sting of Jesus pointing out your lack of faith face to face? How many times have we read this passage and thought the disciples were dull for not trusting they would be okay with Jesus at their side? I know it has crossed my mind. I am often lacking in faith myself, though. How about you?
I've been absent from you for a week now. From your emails, texts, and posts, I know you were all overjoyed that my treatment had come to a close. Indeed, it was and is cause for much joy, and I greatly appreciate your celebration on my behalf. I will not miss chemotherapy infusions. Infinitely more, I will not miss having my head bolted, for lack of a better descriptor, underneath a wicked looking mask to a radiation table. Here, I should pause and praise the Father for being on that table with me every day. I'm not sure I've done that yet, but He deserves it. At first, it was quite overwhelming to lie down on that table, but He quickly revealed that He would be there every day. He was. One of my greatest fears was having a vomiting episode during a treatment as mucus collected in my mouth. I prayed for protection from that - He never allowed it to happen. He was always there just as He had promised He would be. May we never forget His promise in the first chapter of Joshua.
If you count today, it has been 5 days since I had a radiation treatment. Am I elated about that? Absolutely! Praise the Father in Heaven it has come to an end! You might have expected to hear this from me sooner, so let me try to explain where I am now and how it relates to the disciples and their boating incident. I have been warned from the start that the side effects of this treatment regimen would be grizzly. I have shared many of the possibilities with you - severely sore throat, mouth ulcerations, neck burn, neck stiffness, tooth decay, and thick, copious mucus among many other possibilities. So far, my neck has held up really well. I have mildly burned skin, which is looking better every day and never reached the painful point that many patients must endure. My neck is not overly stiff. I do have a severely sore throat when I attempt to swallow. I do have multiple ulcerations in my mouth. I have medication to numb those, and I am tolerating them. My teeth seem to have weathered the storm, as well. The constant mucus production has been my most challenging side effect by far. It is so hard to explain and not a very pleasant topic to read about I'm sure. The best I can do to help you understand is to imagine your mouth producing thick, odorous mucus 24/7. I imagine you must think, "Big deal - it's just a little mucus!" That's exactly the thing, though - it's not a little mucus at all. It is mucus, mucus, mucus everywhere in your mouth all day long. The thickness, the threat of vomiting, and the pain of the mouth sores make it hard to expectorate.
The mucus also delays my resumption of real food, so I remain on a feeding tube. Thankfully, I am maintaining my weight with the tube, so I just have to remind myself that this challenge will pass, as well. My hope is that by the time the mucus has subsided enough to try eating, my throat soreness will have diminished some, as well. I have high hopes of eating at least broths and soft foods by another week or so. Also, since the mucus is so thick and it is still hard to take in enough fluids, I am getting IV fluids every day for the next couple of weeks. We have gotten this set up at home, and it is going well.
Every transition in my treatment process brings major psychological adjustment. Yes, it was great to be home, great to be done with radiation, great that in just a few weeks I could be eating again ... BUT, it was so daunting to think about starting IV fluids at home every day (more tubes!), so daunting to think about never ending mucus that could last as much as 6 weeks, and so daunting to think that though I had made it through treatment a waiting period had begun. I quickly realized that I would have to wait weeks to see when the mucus would clear, when I could eat, when I could get rid of my feeding tube, when I could get rid of my anti-nausea pump, and when I might or might not have to have surgery on the nodes in my neck! Do you sense the anxiety? It was just overwhelming for a day or two, and I must admit, I did not do well. I have sent many of you pleas for fervent prayer over the last few days. I still covet those prayers.
When I opened my devotion today, however, I realized that I had not been exercising much faith over the last few days. Oh me of little faith! Yes, this mucus is the most mind-numbing thing I think I have ever had to endure, but have I forgotten that He is here? Have I forgotten the pain he endured? Have I forgotten that there are others suffering more than I could ever imagine? Have I forgotten that He calms storms?
As it turns out, I'm quite a bit like those frightened disciples. Perhaps I wasn't absolutely confident that He would be the God of this mucus. Oswald Chambers says, "What a pang will go through us when we suddenly realize that we might have produced downright joy in the heart of Jesus by remaining absolutely confident in Him, no matter what was ahead."
Let us believe Him from the beginning of our crisis so as to create downright joy in Him. I would so much rather offer Him downright joy than a lackluster faith. Father, forgive me for where I have had the slightest doubt that you would deliver from the beginning to the end!
With all that said, I do have several important requests for you:
1. Pray for rapid resolution of these side effects. Obviously, the mucus is at the top of my list. I am anxious to get back to eating, working, and seeing all of you.
2. My third grade teacher, a wonderful woman named Faye Franklin, passed away yesterday after battling cancer for many years. Please remember her family (husband Nick and daughters Lora and Holli) in your prayers. She was a very gifted teacher, and she will be remembered so fondly having touched countless lives.
3. Continue to pray for Mr. Carroll. His doctors have found that the cancer involves his chest, as well. He has an appointment tomorrow for next steps. Please remember him, his wife, and his son and family - my friends Brian and Elizabeth Carroll. They have two young daughters, Hannah and Emma. Navigating their questions during this time can be difficult.
Let us not forget to offer praise, as well.
1. Praise Him that radiation is over!
2. Praise Him that He is God of the side effects that remain!
3. Praise Him that He has promised to walk with us through any fire that is to come - from the beginning!
4. Praise Him because He is worthy of never ending gratitude!
5. My friend Bryan Larson continues to make progress. Check out his link if you have time.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Strong legs
I know my posts are scarce lately. I apologize for that. The last couple of weeks have been emotional and tiring. I haven't found myself in a mindset conducive to writing very often. I needed to write a short message to you today, though.
First, you must share in the joy that I have only 2 treatments remaining! That's right! On Thursday of this very week, I will receive my last radiation treatment God-willing. Do you have any idea how it feels to go from 33 treatments remaining to 2 treatments remaining?! It feels like such a tremendous blessing from the Father of light, hope, love, and peace. I know that you have prayed to Him on my behalf so many times for help making it through these treatments, and I firmly believe that your prayers have been answered. As difficult as the treatment has been, I cannot accept anything other than mine has been less difficult than it would have been without your petitions to the Father on my behalf. I know this to be true, and I am so grateful.
Doug may have shared this with you in an email, but I must also tell you that I was able to go to church this weekend for the first time in so long. What a sweet time of worship I had! I praise Him for those sweet moments. Oh, if everyone could understand and believe just how real and wonderful He is.
I do have a special request as I transition into the next phase. After treatment ends this week, I will enter into a waiting period of sorts. I will be waiting for side effects to decrease and for my appointment with the surgeon to see if he thinks any surgery is still warranted. I won't have an appointment with him until the end of August. That will be a preliminary examination. Then, about 3 weeks later, I expect to have a CT and more definitive plans to be made. I ask you to pray for my faith to have strong legs. I want to trust Him more than I ever have in my life. That is what this requires and that is what He deserves. I have gone back and forth on what to ask for specifically where surgery is concerned. Certainly, I ask you to pray that none is required for my tongue. At first, my medical common sense wouldn't allow me to ask that none would be required on my neck either (a couple of lymph nodes remain very swollen), but I am trying to remember that if He can create this world, he can shrink my neck even after the treatment has ended. He is the Great Physician, and we must not forget that no matter how much knowledge he entrusts to us. Pray that surgery won't be necessary, but that His will be done and accepted with steadfast faith - not my own.
One more thing I need to tell you today. In typing a response to a message from a friend earlier, I was reminded of something that I have said so many times throughout my life. He has never failed me. He has never failed me. He has never failed me! Truly, He hasn't! He won't now.
He won't fail you either.
Two more prayer requests: Don't forget to pray for Mr. Carroll as he deals with oral cancer of his own. Again, it is in his bone, so it much more involved. He must have all his teeth removed before starting chemo and radiation. You can imagine the prayers for strength that he needs.
Pray for my caregivers at Vanderbilt. Pray that I would be bold in sharing my faith with them during these last few days of treatment.
Verses sent to me by a dear Aunt in a card:
Because he loves me, says the Lord, I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation. -Psalm 91:14-16
First, you must share in the joy that I have only 2 treatments remaining! That's right! On Thursday of this very week, I will receive my last radiation treatment God-willing. Do you have any idea how it feels to go from 33 treatments remaining to 2 treatments remaining?! It feels like such a tremendous blessing from the Father of light, hope, love, and peace. I know that you have prayed to Him on my behalf so many times for help making it through these treatments, and I firmly believe that your prayers have been answered. As difficult as the treatment has been, I cannot accept anything other than mine has been less difficult than it would have been without your petitions to the Father on my behalf. I know this to be true, and I am so grateful.
Doug may have shared this with you in an email, but I must also tell you that I was able to go to church this weekend for the first time in so long. What a sweet time of worship I had! I praise Him for those sweet moments. Oh, if everyone could understand and believe just how real and wonderful He is.
I do have a special request as I transition into the next phase. After treatment ends this week, I will enter into a waiting period of sorts. I will be waiting for side effects to decrease and for my appointment with the surgeon to see if he thinks any surgery is still warranted. I won't have an appointment with him until the end of August. That will be a preliminary examination. Then, about 3 weeks later, I expect to have a CT and more definitive plans to be made. I ask you to pray for my faith to have strong legs. I want to trust Him more than I ever have in my life. That is what this requires and that is what He deserves. I have gone back and forth on what to ask for specifically where surgery is concerned. Certainly, I ask you to pray that none is required for my tongue. At first, my medical common sense wouldn't allow me to ask that none would be required on my neck either (a couple of lymph nodes remain very swollen), but I am trying to remember that if He can create this world, he can shrink my neck even after the treatment has ended. He is the Great Physician, and we must not forget that no matter how much knowledge he entrusts to us. Pray that surgery won't be necessary, but that His will be done and accepted with steadfast faith - not my own.
One more thing I need to tell you today. In typing a response to a message from a friend earlier, I was reminded of something that I have said so many times throughout my life. He has never failed me. He has never failed me. He has never failed me! Truly, He hasn't! He won't now.
He won't fail you either.
Two more prayer requests: Don't forget to pray for Mr. Carroll as he deals with oral cancer of his own. Again, it is in his bone, so it much more involved. He must have all his teeth removed before starting chemo and radiation. You can imagine the prayers for strength that he needs.
Pray for my caregivers at Vanderbilt. Pray that I would be bold in sharing my faith with them during these last few days of treatment.
Verses sent to me by a dear Aunt in a card:
Because he loves me, says the Lord, I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation. -Psalm 91:14-16
Saturday, August 2, 2008
In the morning
Something simple, yet so power-packed for this morning ...
Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning. -Psalm 30:5
May we never forget.
Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning. -Psalm 30:5
May we never forget.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Double portion
First, I thank all of you for your continued prayers and support. I want to be brief today, but give you some important information.
Praise: I saw Dr. Gilbert today, and she believes the tumor is smaller and continuing to respond to treatment. She does believe that I will have to have a partial neck dissection since the swollen lymph nodes are not shrinking on the left side of my neck. She cannot say whether any surgery will be necessary on my tongue, but we are praying that it will not. She was very encouraging and is pleased with my progress other than the swollen nodes. I have 7 radiation treatments to go, and after that, will see Dr. Netterville, the surgeon, in about 4 weeks for further consultation. It is comforting that both Dr. Gilbert and Dr. Cmelak (radiation oncologist) think the tumor is responding. Of course, we must not forget, God is the Great Physician. He knows the plans He has for me. He is here. I pray and ask you to pray for no surgery on my tongue, yet not my will but His be done. As for my neck, I would prefer not to have surgery there either, but I have much more peace about that possibility. Pray as the Spirit moves you.
Request: I mentioned a good friend's dad, Mr. Carroll, in a previous entry. He found out Friday that his cancer is stage 4 with a 40% cure rate. Surgery is not an option at this point as the cancer is more advanced than first expected. As I mentioned before, it involves his bone. He just learned that he will have to have all of his teeth extracted before treatment begins. I urge you my faithful brothers and sisters to pray for him boldly. He has much to face, but we know that God is bigger than it all.
Every day we go to treatment, there are reminders that there are people suffering even more than I can imagine. Most disconcerting is the apparent lack of social support in many of the cases. It is heartbreaking to see people going through this alone. They need our prayers.
Let's pray together tonight ...
Awesome Father, You are worthy of receiving our utmost in praise and honor. You knew us before we were ever a worldly thought. You knew how our lives would unfold. You knew how we would respond to that unfolding. Now Lord, in these times found uncertain by us, steady us by Your great power and sovereignty. Let all of us who fear, draw near to Your comforting Spirit. May we never forget the price that You paid to cleanse our hearts and purify our hands. May we never forget that our suffering will never come close to Your suffering on our behalf. May we never forget that You are more than enough and that You are always here. May we remember in struggle, that the goal is still to know You and to know You more deeply. May we be moved into deeper relationship with You as we trust in Your great plans. Give Mr. Carroll complete healing and give his family a double portion of Your graciousness as You carry them through this journey. We love You. Your goodness cannot be described. Amen.
Praise: I saw Dr. Gilbert today, and she believes the tumor is smaller and continuing to respond to treatment. She does believe that I will have to have a partial neck dissection since the swollen lymph nodes are not shrinking on the left side of my neck. She cannot say whether any surgery will be necessary on my tongue, but we are praying that it will not. She was very encouraging and is pleased with my progress other than the swollen nodes. I have 7 radiation treatments to go, and after that, will see Dr. Netterville, the surgeon, in about 4 weeks for further consultation. It is comforting that both Dr. Gilbert and Dr. Cmelak (radiation oncologist) think the tumor is responding. Of course, we must not forget, God is the Great Physician. He knows the plans He has for me. He is here. I pray and ask you to pray for no surgery on my tongue, yet not my will but His be done. As for my neck, I would prefer not to have surgery there either, but I have much more peace about that possibility. Pray as the Spirit moves you.
Request: I mentioned a good friend's dad, Mr. Carroll, in a previous entry. He found out Friday that his cancer is stage 4 with a 40% cure rate. Surgery is not an option at this point as the cancer is more advanced than first expected. As I mentioned before, it involves his bone. He just learned that he will have to have all of his teeth extracted before treatment begins. I urge you my faithful brothers and sisters to pray for him boldly. He has much to face, but we know that God is bigger than it all.
Every day we go to treatment, there are reminders that there are people suffering even more than I can imagine. Most disconcerting is the apparent lack of social support in many of the cases. It is heartbreaking to see people going through this alone. They need our prayers.
Let's pray together tonight ...
Awesome Father, You are worthy of receiving our utmost in praise and honor. You knew us before we were ever a worldly thought. You knew how our lives would unfold. You knew how we would respond to that unfolding. Now Lord, in these times found uncertain by us, steady us by Your great power and sovereignty. Let all of us who fear, draw near to Your comforting Spirit. May we never forget the price that You paid to cleanse our hearts and purify our hands. May we never forget that our suffering will never come close to Your suffering on our behalf. May we never forget that You are more than enough and that You are always here. May we remember in struggle, that the goal is still to know You and to know You more deeply. May we be moved into deeper relationship with You as we trust in Your great plans. Give Mr. Carroll complete healing and give his family a double portion of Your graciousness as You carry them through this journey. We love You. Your goodness cannot be described. Amen.
Monday, July 28, 2008
He is here
I apologize for my absence, but last week was a challenging one. The end of treatment is now in sight, though. As of today, I only have 8 radiation treatments to go! I cannot express how that makes me feel. The effects of radiation continue to worsen and take a mental and physical toll. I do believe that God has honored the prayers of so many and made them less harsh than they might have been. I know that many of you have prayed along those lines.
Tonight, I am short of words, but did want to pass on a few thoughts about Father.
When drowning in mucus, He holds me.
When mouth ulcerations blaze, He is here.
When vomiting attacks, He stays till the end.
He is mighty. He is true. He is loving-kind. He is holy. He is worthy of desperate praise. He IS.
I love Him, and I pray for complete healing in my physical body along with the healing of broken lives through His redemptive power.
For those who read these words and have not begun a personal relationship with Jesus, I plead with you to consider embarking on the greatest journey of your life - an everlasting journey. He loves you and wants to walk with you. Don't turn Him away. Read John 3 and Romans 10 - they are great places to start. Talk with a trusted pastor or friend who knows Jesus as Savior. Whatever you do, don't miss out on the biggest truth and greatest love of all time. Only in Him will you find the answers to life's important questions. Only in Him will you find eternal, abundant life.
Continue to pray that I will look to Him more than I do to the end of treatment. He is where my focus must be stayed. He is here. He has never failed. May we trust Him with childlike abandon.
Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid. -Mark 6:50
Tonight, I am short of words, but did want to pass on a few thoughts about Father.
When drowning in mucus, He holds me.
When mouth ulcerations blaze, He is here.
When vomiting attacks, He stays till the end.
He is mighty. He is true. He is loving-kind. He is holy. He is worthy of desperate praise. He IS.
I love Him, and I pray for complete healing in my physical body along with the healing of broken lives through His redemptive power.
For those who read these words and have not begun a personal relationship with Jesus, I plead with you to consider embarking on the greatest journey of your life - an everlasting journey. He loves you and wants to walk with you. Don't turn Him away. Read John 3 and Romans 10 - they are great places to start. Talk with a trusted pastor or friend who knows Jesus as Savior. Whatever you do, don't miss out on the biggest truth and greatest love of all time. Only in Him will you find the answers to life's important questions. Only in Him will you find eternal, abundant life.
Continue to pray that I will look to Him more than I do to the end of treatment. He is where my focus must be stayed. He is here. He has never failed. May we trust Him with childlike abandon.
Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid. -Mark 6:50
Monday, July 21, 2008
Something we can do together
I have missed writing you, but last week’s events left me feeling quite tired most of the time. I think the main contributor to my fatigue is the radiation treatment, but I also think it is helping tremendously. My tongue itself continues to feel better, and I am so grateful for that. The vicious side effects Doug mentioned, such as dry mouth, excess mucous, and mouth sores, are indeed daunting, but they wax and wane at this point. The excess mucous has a powerful mental effect as it creates a constant need to clear the oral cavity and adds to nausea, as well. Thankfully, the nausea Doug spoke of on Saturday following chemo has improved tremendously. I do continue to have hiccups, which apparently is an odd side effect of chemo that not many people seem to have, but they are lessening today; thus far, it happens to me after every chemo infusion.
That brings me to an update on the treatment plan. This past chemo infusion will likely be my last where the main treatment is concerned. Dr. Gilbert talked about doing three sessions of this particular drug if they could be completed by the end of radiation. There must be 21 days between each of the infusions, though, so there won’t be enough time for another infusion before radiation is complete. I only have 13 radiation treatments to go!!! God willing, they will finish up on August 7th. I am so grateful that this number is decreasing. I still need your prayers to cover me during these remaining days. Generally, head and neck radiation therapy just gets worse and worse until the end of treatment, and the side effects take various times to relent after treatment has stopped. I do feel as though I have been protected from the full severity of the side effects by your answered prayers. Thank you, but most of all, praise His Holy name. He is beautiful beyond our comprehension.
We’ll talk more about what happens following radiation therapy as these next few weeks pass. Right now, future plans are very dependent on how I respond to the rest of the current treatment.
Switching gears, many of you have asked if there is anything else you can do for me. There is. In fact, there is something we can do together. You know that I want to be healed from this disease, but I desire that God be glorified no matter what His ultimate plan reveals. One of the easiest ways to glorify Him is to tell of the great things He has done for us – to share Him with others. Every day, we come in contact with so many people who need His love desperately. Imagine what a difference it would make if we all sought out just one opportunity to tell someone about Him … what He has accomplished, His unwavering friendship, His power, that He is mighty to save.
We tend to get so scared at the thought of sharing our faith. For some reason, it has become safe to mention God in passing, but dangerous to share the redemptive truth of Jesus Christ. I think we are also scared, at times, because we have these misconceptions that we will say something wrong or that we are responsible for performing the redemption ourselves. Jesus simply told us to tell of His love for all and His intention to transform lives. He never said there was a perfect way to deliver the truth, but He was very clear that we should be making an effort to deliver it. He takes care of the rest. He performs the redemption. He is the only one worthy of doing so – the spotless One who gave His life to pay the penalty for all sin. He has already accomplished the great work that is to be done. We are simply charged with telling the world that He waits with open arms to accept all those who desire an eternal relationship with Him.
Here’s what I am asking us to do. Let’s diligently look for opportunities to share Jesus Christ and His love for all people along with His desire that all come to know Him as Savior and friend. You may already have someone in mind right now that you have been meaning to share Him with but have hesitated. Stop hesitating and start a simple conversation. We tend to treat telling others about Jesus like it is a dreaded sales job. Somehow, that has to stop. Our methods of sharing may look different every time we do so. At times, it may seem appropriate simply to ask someone whether or not they have a relationship with Jesus. At other times, that may seem too pushy. It may take months of further cultivating a relationship before we can share the amazing love of Jesus. One thing is for sure, if we follow the leading of the Holy Spirit, we cannot mess up. Remember, we don’t do the work – He does.
Let’s trust Him to guide us and try our very best to go tell about Him. Remember, it is all about Him. It is not about our church or about our religion or about us at all; it is all about the person of Jesus Christ! So, let’s go tell others about Him!
For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. –John 3:16
Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved. –Romans 10:13
I love you all. Thanks for everything you are doing. All of your efforts, even if you have not heard from me personally, are greatly appreciated by my family and me. God bless you richly.
That brings me to an update on the treatment plan. This past chemo infusion will likely be my last where the main treatment is concerned. Dr. Gilbert talked about doing three sessions of this particular drug if they could be completed by the end of radiation. There must be 21 days between each of the infusions, though, so there won’t be enough time for another infusion before radiation is complete. I only have 13 radiation treatments to go!!! God willing, they will finish up on August 7th. I am so grateful that this number is decreasing. I still need your prayers to cover me during these remaining days. Generally, head and neck radiation therapy just gets worse and worse until the end of treatment, and the side effects take various times to relent after treatment has stopped. I do feel as though I have been protected from the full severity of the side effects by your answered prayers. Thank you, but most of all, praise His Holy name. He is beautiful beyond our comprehension.
We’ll talk more about what happens following radiation therapy as these next few weeks pass. Right now, future plans are very dependent on how I respond to the rest of the current treatment.
Switching gears, many of you have asked if there is anything else you can do for me. There is. In fact, there is something we can do together. You know that I want to be healed from this disease, but I desire that God be glorified no matter what His ultimate plan reveals. One of the easiest ways to glorify Him is to tell of the great things He has done for us – to share Him with others. Every day, we come in contact with so many people who need His love desperately. Imagine what a difference it would make if we all sought out just one opportunity to tell someone about Him … what He has accomplished, His unwavering friendship, His power, that He is mighty to save.
We tend to get so scared at the thought of sharing our faith. For some reason, it has become safe to mention God in passing, but dangerous to share the redemptive truth of Jesus Christ. I think we are also scared, at times, because we have these misconceptions that we will say something wrong or that we are responsible for performing the redemption ourselves. Jesus simply told us to tell of His love for all and His intention to transform lives. He never said there was a perfect way to deliver the truth, but He was very clear that we should be making an effort to deliver it. He takes care of the rest. He performs the redemption. He is the only one worthy of doing so – the spotless One who gave His life to pay the penalty for all sin. He has already accomplished the great work that is to be done. We are simply charged with telling the world that He waits with open arms to accept all those who desire an eternal relationship with Him.
Here’s what I am asking us to do. Let’s diligently look for opportunities to share Jesus Christ and His love for all people along with His desire that all come to know Him as Savior and friend. You may already have someone in mind right now that you have been meaning to share Him with but have hesitated. Stop hesitating and start a simple conversation. We tend to treat telling others about Jesus like it is a dreaded sales job. Somehow, that has to stop. Our methods of sharing may look different every time we do so. At times, it may seem appropriate simply to ask someone whether or not they have a relationship with Jesus. At other times, that may seem too pushy. It may take months of further cultivating a relationship before we can share the amazing love of Jesus. One thing is for sure, if we follow the leading of the Holy Spirit, we cannot mess up. Remember, we don’t do the work – He does.
Let’s trust Him to guide us and try our very best to go tell about Him. Remember, it is all about Him. It is not about our church or about our religion or about us at all; it is all about the person of Jesus Christ! So, let’s go tell others about Him!
For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. –John 3:16
Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved. –Romans 10:13
I love you all. Thanks for everything you are doing. All of your efforts, even if you have not heard from me personally, are greatly appreciated by my family and me. God bless you richly.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Good counts
Thankfully, Daniel's counts were good today, so he had his chemo infusion as well as radiation number nineteen! Now, he has fourteen to go - careful, everyone! He has had some nausea today, and at the time of this post, he senses more stalking him. Daniel will try to post an entry tomorrow.
Specific prayer requests:
-Breather from nausea
-Ease from radiation side-effects (They're getting vicious.)
-Healing
-God's will
-Mr. Carroll
-Thanks for answered prayers
Blessings to you all,
Doug
Specific prayer requests:
-Breather from nausea
-Ease from radiation side-effects (They're getting vicious.)
-Healing
-God's will
-Mr. Carroll
-Thanks for answered prayers
Blessings to you all,
Doug
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Things change fast!
My blood count was too low to get my chemo infusion today. I did have my appointment with Dr. Gilbert and my radiation treatment, though. Dr. Gilbert was very encouraging. She continues to believe my tongue looks better. She does predict that I will need a partial neck dissection after chemo and radiation are done to remove the nodes involved on the left side of my neck. They aren't shrinking enough at this point to make her think they will be back to normal after treatment. Of course, that remains to be seen. God is still in control of my health. I am not discouraged by this news. I trust He will see me through whatever treatment is indicated.
The plan now is for my blood to be rechecked on Friday morning in hopes of doing my chemo infusion later that day. I pray this will happen if it is God's best.
Radiation went well today - only 17 treatments to go! That sounds so much better than 33!
Thanks for praying and keep it up. You must get tired of me asking that, but it just means so much - every single prayer. I know there are times when you least expect it that I need your prayers so much and am benefiting from them intensely.
May God bless you all richly.
The plan now is for my blood to be rechecked on Friday morning in hopes of doing my chemo infusion later that day. I pray this will happen if it is God's best.
Radiation went well today - only 17 treatments to go! That sounds so much better than 33!
Thanks for praying and keep it up. You must get tired of me asking that, but it just means so much - every single prayer. I know there are times when you least expect it that I need your prayers so much and am benefiting from them intensely.
May God bless you all richly.
Today's events
- Appointment with Dr. Gilbert at 8:15.
- Radiation at 10:00.
- Chemotherapy (another long session) at 10:30.
My mucous seems to have increased tremendously overnight. Please say a special prayer for this long day ahead. I will need to feel His presence every moment - I know He will be there.
Thank you so much.
Have a great day.
- Radiation at 10:00.
- Chemotherapy (another long session) at 10:30.
My mucous seems to have increased tremendously overnight. Please say a special prayer for this long day ahead. I will need to feel His presence every moment - I know He will be there.
Thank you so much.
Have a great day.
Monday, July 14, 2008
But, that's not fair!
Have you noticed how obsessed we are with all things justice? Just take the top television programs, for instance. There's CSI, CSI Miami, CSI NY, CSI Alaska - okay, maybe I made the last one up, but you know they've considered it. There's Law and Order, Law and Order SVU, Law and Order Criminal Intent, NCIS, and my personal favorite, Criminal Minds. When you consider these as a group, reality TV doesn't seem quite so dominant. We are crazy for tales of just and unjust, right and wrong, fair and unfair. The obsession is passed on from our elders at an early age. Visit any playground in our country today, and you will inevitably hear it over and over again ... "But, that's not fair!" We learn very early to scream foul play, and most of us go on doing it loudly for the rest of our lives.
In fact, if we put forth the least bit of effort, I suspect that most of us could recall several times in the past few days, or maybe even in this day alone, when we exclaimed, "But, that's not fair!" What I find so interesting about this is how it dominates our culture, even Christian culture, but Christ never said it! Of course, if anyone ever had reason to make this exclamation, Jesus Christ did! Born to die, falsely accused, spat upon, mocked, scourged, and charged with bearing the sin of the world - yet sinless Himself. Indeed, He had good reason. As Oswald Chamber's pointed out, though, Jesus never looked for justice for Himself, but He never ceased to give it to others.
Regarding my cancer and whatever blindsiding trial you might be facing, it is so reflex to exclaim, "But, that's not fair!" I could go about my days in a perpetual childhood tantrum (and, I reserve the immaturity to do so on some days) mired in all that unfairness, but ... that's the problem. I would be mired. I couldn't really go anywhere. The thing is, we spend so much of our lives griping about fair and unfair when God never promised fair. Ask Job or Uriah or ... Jesus! What He did promise, as we've discussed before, is to be with us wherever we go.
I'll admit, there are days when I want to scream ... this isn't fair! I want my taste buds back! I want these sores gone! Get this mucous out of my mouth! Get this growth off my neck! Get this tube out of my stomach! I want pizza, I want Cokes, I want ice cream and cookies and cheeseburgers - this isn't fair! I'll probably have a few more of those days. I hope, however, that I (we) will be able to stop looking for fair in all circumstances. Rather, I pray that complete trust will replace tantrums. Our precious Father is good, and He will not leave us.
I love all of you very much, and I appreciate your prayers. I DO feel them. My weekend was dark at times, but God remained as He always does. Your prayers are priceless.
Now, I must ask you to pray for another. My dear friend, Brian Carroll (Elizabeth Pugh Carroll's husband), learned that his dad has been diagnosed with cancer just underneath his nose that has spread into the nasal cavity and into his cheeks. The bone is involved. Surgery at Vanderbilt is pending. Brian and Elizabeth have asked for God's will to be done and for all involved to be drawn closer to Him. Of course, they also pray for healing, but they also ask for peace with whatever God has planned. Please join me in praying for Mr. Carroll.
God's best for all of you.
In fact, if we put forth the least bit of effort, I suspect that most of us could recall several times in the past few days, or maybe even in this day alone, when we exclaimed, "But, that's not fair!" What I find so interesting about this is how it dominates our culture, even Christian culture, but Christ never said it! Of course, if anyone ever had reason to make this exclamation, Jesus Christ did! Born to die, falsely accused, spat upon, mocked, scourged, and charged with bearing the sin of the world - yet sinless Himself. Indeed, He had good reason. As Oswald Chamber's pointed out, though, Jesus never looked for justice for Himself, but He never ceased to give it to others.
Regarding my cancer and whatever blindsiding trial you might be facing, it is so reflex to exclaim, "But, that's not fair!" I could go about my days in a perpetual childhood tantrum (and, I reserve the immaturity to do so on some days) mired in all that unfairness, but ... that's the problem. I would be mired. I couldn't really go anywhere. The thing is, we spend so much of our lives griping about fair and unfair when God never promised fair. Ask Job or Uriah or ... Jesus! What He did promise, as we've discussed before, is to be with us wherever we go.
I'll admit, there are days when I want to scream ... this isn't fair! I want my taste buds back! I want these sores gone! Get this mucous out of my mouth! Get this growth off my neck! Get this tube out of my stomach! I want pizza, I want Cokes, I want ice cream and cookies and cheeseburgers - this isn't fair! I'll probably have a few more of those days. I hope, however, that I (we) will be able to stop looking for fair in all circumstances. Rather, I pray that complete trust will replace tantrums. Our precious Father is good, and He will not leave us.
I love all of you very much, and I appreciate your prayers. I DO feel them. My weekend was dark at times, but God remained as He always does. Your prayers are priceless.
Now, I must ask you to pray for another. My dear friend, Brian Carroll (Elizabeth Pugh Carroll's husband), learned that his dad has been diagnosed with cancer just underneath his nose that has spread into the nasal cavity and into his cheeks. The bone is involved. Surgery at Vanderbilt is pending. Brian and Elizabeth have asked for God's will to be done and for all involved to be drawn closer to Him. Of course, they also pray for healing, but they also ask for peace with whatever God has planned. Please join me in praying for Mr. Carroll.
God's best for all of you.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
22 left!
Today, I had my eleventh radiation treatment - only 22 treatments to go! The shrinking of that number does my heart so much good. This morning, one of the family said, "After today, only 22 treatments to go!" I have a rule against that, though, which I quickly disclosed. If you choose to declare how many treatments are left before the current day's treatment has taken place, you have to say the number that is currently left - not the number that will be left after that day's treatment. Meaning, it would have been fine for them to say that there were 23 treatments left, but not 22 after today. Even though it is true, it is jumping ahead, and it messes up the savoring of that moment right after treatment when I get to declare the new remaining number. Get it? I only have 22 radiation treatments left!
That's the good news about radiation. The possibly bad news is that I have hit the point during radiation when most patients start to have the worst side effects, including an unusual pairing of thick mucous and dry mouth, both relentless in their attack, along with mouth sores, sore throat, more difficulty swallowing, and dramatic skin burn. I call this possibly bad news, because I pray, and ask you to also, that God will lessen the intensity of these side effects if it pleases Him. I know He may not choose to do this as I am reminded of the thorn in Paul's flesh that was never removed, but I am also reminded of the fact that He has promised not to give me anything more than I can endure. Even more, I am reminded of the suffering our sweet Lord Jesus endured for us, and I know what I face cannot be compared to what He graciously endured for all of us. Even still, He has invited us to ask! And, ask, I will. I trust you'll do so, as well.
I also saw Dr. Gilbert today, and she made the comment that she thinks my tumor looks "much better." Now, that's the kind of thing you like to hear from your oncologist! I have also gained three pounds since last Tuesday, which is such a blessing. I am tolerating my tube feedings extremely well since the switch to pump infusion. Thank God for His provision. Eating had been such a source of stress. I'm very relieved to have that pressure removed.
One of the long-term side effects of radiation therapy to the oral cavity is persistent dry mouth due to salivary gland damage. Obviously, with my job and my singing, that would be an extremely disconcerting and maybe even debilitating side effect. Tomorrow, I begin a medication called amiphostine, which is designed to reduce this possibility. The jury is still out on its effectiveness as there is a lack of rigorous research available. Unfortunately, its main side effect is nausea, but not in everyone. Given my profession and other interests, I have decided to give it a try. If it nauseates me, I will just stop it. My first dose will be given tomorrow at 8:30 a.m. before radiation at 10:00 a.m. That will be the schedule going forward if it is tolerated.
My next chemotherapy infusion will be next Tuesday, the 15th. Again, it will be about a 5-6 hour process. Remember, I did not have bad side effects with the treatment, which often happens. We trust this will be the case again. I may or may not have a third infusion on August 5th. That will depend on tumor response to the next chemo, the remainder of radiation therapy, and simply how I am feeling. Just to remind you, after radiation ends on August 7th, there will be about a six-week break after which a CT will be done. If the tumor appears to have been eradicated, no surgery will be required on the tongue. If the lymph nodes look clear, no surgery will be required. On the other hand, even if the tongue looks clear, but the lymph nodes do not, I will have to have a partial neck dissection to remove those questionable nodes.
Some things for which to thank Him specifically (there are so many):
1. The tumor is responding.
2. Nutrition.
3. Sleep!
4. Such generosity from all of you.
5. Nausea and vomiting under control.
6. Pain is SO much better.
7. Such excellent care at Vanderbilt.
8. Prayers that I can feel!
9. Technology that keeps me connected with all of you.
10. Traveling mercies.
Prayer requests:
1. Always and above all, God's glorification throughout this journey.
2. Complete healing - yet, not our will, but His be done.
3. No nausea or other side effects with amiphostine, but successful protection of my salivary glands.
4. No surgery at the end - yet, not my will, but His be done.
That's the good news about radiation. The possibly bad news is that I have hit the point during radiation when most patients start to have the worst side effects, including an unusual pairing of thick mucous and dry mouth, both relentless in their attack, along with mouth sores, sore throat, more difficulty swallowing, and dramatic skin burn. I call this possibly bad news, because I pray, and ask you to also, that God will lessen the intensity of these side effects if it pleases Him. I know He may not choose to do this as I am reminded of the thorn in Paul's flesh that was never removed, but I am also reminded of the fact that He has promised not to give me anything more than I can endure. Even more, I am reminded of the suffering our sweet Lord Jesus endured for us, and I know what I face cannot be compared to what He graciously endured for all of us. Even still, He has invited us to ask! And, ask, I will. I trust you'll do so, as well.
I also saw Dr. Gilbert today, and she made the comment that she thinks my tumor looks "much better." Now, that's the kind of thing you like to hear from your oncologist! I have also gained three pounds since last Tuesday, which is such a blessing. I am tolerating my tube feedings extremely well since the switch to pump infusion. Thank God for His provision. Eating had been such a source of stress. I'm very relieved to have that pressure removed.
One of the long-term side effects of radiation therapy to the oral cavity is persistent dry mouth due to salivary gland damage. Obviously, with my job and my singing, that would be an extremely disconcerting and maybe even debilitating side effect. Tomorrow, I begin a medication called amiphostine, which is designed to reduce this possibility. The jury is still out on its effectiveness as there is a lack of rigorous research available. Unfortunately, its main side effect is nausea, but not in everyone. Given my profession and other interests, I have decided to give it a try. If it nauseates me, I will just stop it. My first dose will be given tomorrow at 8:30 a.m. before radiation at 10:00 a.m. That will be the schedule going forward if it is tolerated.
My next chemotherapy infusion will be next Tuesday, the 15th. Again, it will be about a 5-6 hour process. Remember, I did not have bad side effects with the treatment, which often happens. We trust this will be the case again. I may or may not have a third infusion on August 5th. That will depend on tumor response to the next chemo, the remainder of radiation therapy, and simply how I am feeling. Just to remind you, after radiation ends on August 7th, there will be about a six-week break after which a CT will be done. If the tumor appears to have been eradicated, no surgery will be required on the tongue. If the lymph nodes look clear, no surgery will be required. On the other hand, even if the tongue looks clear, but the lymph nodes do not, I will have to have a partial neck dissection to remove those questionable nodes.
Some things for which to thank Him specifically (there are so many):
1. The tumor is responding.
2. Nutrition.
3. Sleep!
4. Such generosity from all of you.
5. Nausea and vomiting under control.
6. Pain is SO much better.
7. Such excellent care at Vanderbilt.
8. Prayers that I can feel!
9. Technology that keeps me connected with all of you.
10. Traveling mercies.
Prayer requests:
1. Always and above all, God's glorification throughout this journey.
2. Complete healing - yet, not our will, but His be done.
3. No nausea or other side effects with amiphostine, but successful protection of my salivary glands.
4. No surgery at the end - yet, not my will, but His be done.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Technological antique
Phone communication has been restored. Text away my friends. If you've sent me a text in the past few days, though, I didn't get it. Unfortunately, those could not be retrieved. It's a long story that has to do with the fact that I tend to use a phone until it qualifies as a technological antique. I'll stop there, but if you're really curious, Brad has a host of stories to tell in this department, and nothing makes him happier. I'll defer to him. So, I'm on the cutting edge again now (for at least 2-3 weeks, right?) and ready to hear from you.
Electronics are just good for the man's soul. Funny how a new phone can make you forget about those cancer cells for a minute.
Electronics are just good for the man's soul. Funny how a new phone can make you forget about those cancer cells for a minute.
Runt
Many of you have been keeping up with me via text messaging since talking has not been an option. I just wanted to let you know that for the past couple of days my phone has been having some issues. I'm afraid I'm going to have to lay her to rest. So, if you have sent me unanswered texts in the past few days, that is most likely the reason. Even when I am not able to answer them, Doug keeps track. Should have a replacement by later today. If not, I'll let you know. While I'm on here ...
A few other quick notes:
-I am feeling much better this morning mentally, emotionally, and physically.
-My first home feeding went great last night - no nausea or vomiting. Feeding makes me sound like some sort of animal. I just can't figure out what kind since, at this point, I envy the runt of any litter! That will change soon, though, praise the Lord!
-Thank you so much for all your generosity. You have given in many ways, and if I have not thanked you personally with an email or we haven't sent a thank-you card, please know that what you have done from gas cards to smoothies to music and everything outside and in between has been and continues to be so appreciated. My family gives thanks corporately often. It is my desire today that you feel our appreciation in a very personal way. We are so grateful to every single one of you.
-I sense your prayers. They are paramount. One of my favorite songs by Watermark is called More Than You'll Ever Know. The lines that jump out at me these days are ...
You'll never know what it means to me
Just to know you've been on your knees for me
Oh, you have blessed my life
More than you'll ever know
Thank you for getting on your knees for me at a time when it is often too physically straining to accomplish myself. Thank you for loving me so well.
I love you all, but God loves you better. That brings me back to one of my favorites ...
"And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God." -Esphesians 3:17-19
I pray it for all of us.
A few other quick notes:
-I am feeling much better this morning mentally, emotionally, and physically.
-My first home feeding went great last night - no nausea or vomiting. Feeding makes me sound like some sort of animal. I just can't figure out what kind since, at this point, I envy the runt of any litter! That will change soon, though, praise the Lord!
-Thank you so much for all your generosity. You have given in many ways, and if I have not thanked you personally with an email or we haven't sent a thank-you card, please know that what you have done from gas cards to smoothies to music and everything outside and in between has been and continues to be so appreciated. My family gives thanks corporately often. It is my desire today that you feel our appreciation in a very personal way. We are so grateful to every single one of you.
-I sense your prayers. They are paramount. One of my favorite songs by Watermark is called More Than You'll Ever Know. The lines that jump out at me these days are ...
You'll never know what it means to me
Just to know you've been on your knees for me
Oh, you have blessed my life
More than you'll ever know
Thank you for getting on your knees for me at a time when it is often too physically straining to accomplish myself. Thank you for loving me so well.
I love you all, but God loves you better. That brings me back to one of my favorites ...
"And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God." -Esphesians 3:17-19
I pray it for all of us.
Friday, July 4, 2008
The fanny pack payback
To all of you who have ever been the object of my derision for sporting a fanny pack, I must now offer my sincerest apologies. Please pardon my bondage to style and failure to embrace functionality. While in the hospital, I was put on some additional medication for nausea that is delivered via a continuous pump infusion. I was assured that it would be like an insulin pump. Have you seen the latest insulin pumps? They're like pagers and getting smaller all the time. This pump - more like a Gameboy. He needs a place to ride. Unfortunately, that place is in the eggplant colored fanny pack made just for him. Since I don't really have a fanny, wearing it around the waist is not an option. So, resting on my shoulder as I travel around is my brand new anti-nausea fanny pack turned man-bag. It's not cute. At this point, though, you could color it pink and label it Nancy's, and I would sport it just the same as long as it keeps the nausea at bay.
As Doug shared with you, those days before the hospital were very, very rough. I would have written sooner, but have not had the mental or physical energy to do so. Hospitalization for a few days with a switch to continuous pump feedings seemed the best answer to get my nausea controlled and my calories back up, and it has helped tremendously on both counts. Today around 4, I will start my first feed here at home. We are trusting that it will go very well.
I will keep this entry short as I still tire very easily, but I do want to make mention of one thing. If I'm repeating myself, please forgive me. Many of you are asking and have asked if there is anything you can do other than pray. We've all heard ourselves say at one time or another, "Well, I guess all I can do is pray." I can't tell you how many times I've uttered those words over the years not truly realizing their gravity. At this point, prayer really is all that most of you can do, but it just so happens that it is also the MOST IMPORTANT thing you can do. We all have this need to get our hands dirty. It makes us feel like we have done more if we are needed for something hands-on. I'm sure many of you would line up to take me to my radiation appointments, and I am so grateful knowing I have that kind of network! Of course, I am also grateful that I have a family who is willing, able, and desires to fill those roles. Even though I have an amazing support system, this road is treacherous - it is dark, it has many detours, there are traffic jams, and there are enormous pot-holes. I need your prayers! Oh, how desperately I need them. So, when you think, "What can I do for my friend, Daniel?" Please, get on your knees for me. I need that more than anything, and I can assure you, I need it everyday.
Pray for:
1. complete healing and increased comfort in the meantime
2. His strength
3. His glorification
4. patience - waiting is so hard
5. for many without a personal relationship with Jesus to begin to understand what that means and experience it for themselves as a result of my struggle
Thank you for being with me on this excruciating journey. Thank you for coming alongside me.
Thank God for being with all of us.
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." -Jeremiah 29:11
As Doug shared with you, those days before the hospital were very, very rough. I would have written sooner, but have not had the mental or physical energy to do so. Hospitalization for a few days with a switch to continuous pump feedings seemed the best answer to get my nausea controlled and my calories back up, and it has helped tremendously on both counts. Today around 4, I will start my first feed here at home. We are trusting that it will go very well.
I will keep this entry short as I still tire very easily, but I do want to make mention of one thing. If I'm repeating myself, please forgive me. Many of you are asking and have asked if there is anything you can do other than pray. We've all heard ourselves say at one time or another, "Well, I guess all I can do is pray." I can't tell you how many times I've uttered those words over the years not truly realizing their gravity. At this point, prayer really is all that most of you can do, but it just so happens that it is also the MOST IMPORTANT thing you can do. We all have this need to get our hands dirty. It makes us feel like we have done more if we are needed for something hands-on. I'm sure many of you would line up to take me to my radiation appointments, and I am so grateful knowing I have that kind of network! Of course, I am also grateful that I have a family who is willing, able, and desires to fill those roles. Even though I have an amazing support system, this road is treacherous - it is dark, it has many detours, there are traffic jams, and there are enormous pot-holes. I need your prayers! Oh, how desperately I need them. So, when you think, "What can I do for my friend, Daniel?" Please, get on your knees for me. I need that more than anything, and I can assure you, I need it everyday.
Pray for:
1. complete healing and increased comfort in the meantime
2. His strength
3. His glorification
4. patience - waiting is so hard
5. for many without a personal relationship with Jesus to begin to understand what that means and experience it for themselves as a result of my struggle
Thank you for being with me on this excruciating journey. Thank you for coming alongside me.
Thank God for being with all of us.
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." -Jeremiah 29:11
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Good minutes
Daniel warned us there would be dark days; the last few have been just that. On Saturday and Sunday he tolerated his tube feedings but was plagued by mild nausea. We anticipated a good week with weight gain, but at about 4:45 and then again at 5:30 on Monday morning, Daniel experienced extreme and sudden nausea followed by intense vomiting. We all know how unnerving it is to vomit, but for Daniel the irritation is exacerbated by his cancer. Every time the vomit contacts the tumor, his pain worsens. This drains him physically and also mentally because he anticipates what will happen if he "eats."
Daniel was scheduled for radiation on Monday at 12:30, and we kept that appointment. His tongue had developed a white coating a couple of days prior to that, and so we saw the doctor to ask him about it. He explained that Daniel was experiencing mucositis, a common side-effect of radiation. Briefly, radiation breaks down the cancer cells, which makes the mucosal tissue susceptible to ulceration and infection. Thankfully, the doctor said he saw no infection yet. The trade-off for Daniel is that the radiation has lessened the pain of the cancer itself, but now he is beginning to experience its nasty consequences. He is constantly irritated by mucous; unfortunately, he doesn't have the strength to clear his mouth as he would like, and honestly it just hurts. Tonight, he's using a suction machine, which is providing welcomed relief. We will be getting one for home soon. The doctor weighed Daniel, which brings us to today's hospitalization. He had lost another three and a half pounds since last week. You must remember, though, that he had chemotherapy last Tuesday, which meant little or no food the following couple of days, and he had the PEG tube placement last Thursday, which meant no food eight hours prior to the procedure. He didn't get to eat anything until Friday morning at about 10:00 - a couple of bites of JELL-O and one practice tube feeding. So really, last week was a bust food-wise. Daniel has lost almost 24 pounds since April 9.
On Monday evening and again this morning, Daniel consumed very small amounts of tube feeding, but this morning, he vomited again. He had decided last night that he would ask Dr. Gilbert today to admit him to build up his strength and hopefully help him adjust to the feedings; he also thought he should be switched to a continuous pump rather than intermittent syringe feeding. His visit with her started out something like this, "I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, but . . ." She said he was exactly correct. What else would one say to Daniel! He went to radiation after that and then was sent to the chemo infusion area for fluids. Unlike last Thursday, we were given a room within a couple of hours.
He has rested for most of the evening but is actually channel-surfing at the moment. The new chemo he's on causes ringing in his ears and magnifies other noises, so he's wearing earplugs. I'll probably have hearing loss because he's really cranked up the volume on the TV!
Daniel is very sick. As much as all of us are hurting, I can only imagine how he feels. All of you know how he loves life, strangers, adventure, running, climbing, music, worship, friends, and family. Every day he fights for all of that. His stalwart faith inspires us all, but he really needs you now. Pray for him. He covets that. We covet that. I know you are praying, but lift him up to the Father even more. While he is weak, help us stand in his place. Daniel may be slight in body right now, but his spiritual shoes are hard to fill.
For now, I praise God for suction machines, continuous feed pumps, loud TVs, and a few good minutes.
Specific prayer requests:
1. success for the new method of feeding
2. courage and increased faith
3. manageable side-effects
4. to stay close to God and focused on Him
5. healing
6. prayers of thanks for Daniel's medical team
Blessings to you all,
Doug
"Bless the Lord O my soul and forget not all His benefits." -Psalm 103:2
Daniel was scheduled for radiation on Monday at 12:30, and we kept that appointment. His tongue had developed a white coating a couple of days prior to that, and so we saw the doctor to ask him about it. He explained that Daniel was experiencing mucositis, a common side-effect of radiation. Briefly, radiation breaks down the cancer cells, which makes the mucosal tissue susceptible to ulceration and infection. Thankfully, the doctor said he saw no infection yet. The trade-off for Daniel is that the radiation has lessened the pain of the cancer itself, but now he is beginning to experience its nasty consequences. He is constantly irritated by mucous; unfortunately, he doesn't have the strength to clear his mouth as he would like, and honestly it just hurts. Tonight, he's using a suction machine, which is providing welcomed relief. We will be getting one for home soon. The doctor weighed Daniel, which brings us to today's hospitalization. He had lost another three and a half pounds since last week. You must remember, though, that he had chemotherapy last Tuesday, which meant little or no food the following couple of days, and he had the PEG tube placement last Thursday, which meant no food eight hours prior to the procedure. He didn't get to eat anything until Friday morning at about 10:00 - a couple of bites of JELL-O and one practice tube feeding. So really, last week was a bust food-wise. Daniel has lost almost 24 pounds since April 9.
On Monday evening and again this morning, Daniel consumed very small amounts of tube feeding, but this morning, he vomited again. He had decided last night that he would ask Dr. Gilbert today to admit him to build up his strength and hopefully help him adjust to the feedings; he also thought he should be switched to a continuous pump rather than intermittent syringe feeding. His visit with her started out something like this, "I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, but . . ." She said he was exactly correct. What else would one say to Daniel! He went to radiation after that and then was sent to the chemo infusion area for fluids. Unlike last Thursday, we were given a room within a couple of hours.
He has rested for most of the evening but is actually channel-surfing at the moment. The new chemo he's on causes ringing in his ears and magnifies other noises, so he's wearing earplugs. I'll probably have hearing loss because he's really cranked up the volume on the TV!
Daniel is very sick. As much as all of us are hurting, I can only imagine how he feels. All of you know how he loves life, strangers, adventure, running, climbing, music, worship, friends, and family. Every day he fights for all of that. His stalwart faith inspires us all, but he really needs you now. Pray for him. He covets that. We covet that. I know you are praying, but lift him up to the Father even more. While he is weak, help us stand in his place. Daniel may be slight in body right now, but his spiritual shoes are hard to fill.
For now, I praise God for suction machines, continuous feed pumps, loud TVs, and a few good minutes.
Specific prayer requests:
1. success for the new method of feeding
2. courage and increased faith
3. manageable side-effects
4. to stay close to God and focused on Him
5. healing
6. prayers of thanks for Daniel's medical team
Blessings to you all,
Doug
"Bless the Lord O my soul and forget not all His benefits." -Psalm 103:2
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Opportunities
Daniel's feeding tube placement went well. He posted Wednesday that this is a "simple procedure," but seeing him in recovery made me realize that his idea of simple is from a nurse practitioner's point of view! He was in recovery for about six hours as we waited for a room. One of the nurses explained to me that patients who will be staying in the hospital for longer periods of time receive first priority and that PEG tube patients just have to wait. Of course, I wasn't happy about that, and the nurse explained that she and her supervisor are working on getting that policy changed. During one of Daniel's cognizant moments, I told him what the nurse had said, and in typical Daniel fashion, he said, "That's fair." Unbelievable!
We were taken to an observation room for the night, and when Daniel feels better, maybe he'll share some of the humor about our meager accommodations. I must say, though, that he could not have received better treatment or had a more caring, competent staff. Never one to miss an opportunity, Daniel talked with several of his nurses and doctors about the Lord. Three nurses said they were Christians, and their faith certainly brought joy to me, and he was blessed by it as well.
As planned, Daniel was discharged on Friday around 11:00 a.m., and then we went to radiation for his fifth treatment. He is beginning to experience some side-effects such as skin irritation and pain in his mouth. The trade-off is that his pain from the cancer has diminished a little, which we're thankful for.
Daniel has rested for most of the day, which is another blessing. Hopefully, he will feel better soon and be able to inspire us again with his words.
We covet your continued prayers for his healing and for his side-effects to be minimal. All of you are a gift not only to Daniel but to his whole family.
God bless,
Doug
We were taken to an observation room for the night, and when Daniel feels better, maybe he'll share some of the humor about our meager accommodations. I must say, though, that he could not have received better treatment or had a more caring, competent staff. Never one to miss an opportunity, Daniel talked with several of his nurses and doctors about the Lord. Three nurses said they were Christians, and their faith certainly brought joy to me, and he was blessed by it as well.
As planned, Daniel was discharged on Friday around 11:00 a.m., and then we went to radiation for his fifth treatment. He is beginning to experience some side-effects such as skin irritation and pain in his mouth. The trade-off is that his pain from the cancer has diminished a little, which we're thankful for.
Daniel has rested for most of the day, which is another blessing. Hopefully, he will feel better soon and be able to inspire us again with his words.
We covet your continued prayers for his healing and for his side-effects to be minimal. All of you are a gift not only to Daniel but to his whole family.
God bless,
Doug
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Male stubbornness
So much can happen in 3 days when you have cancer. I apologize for not writing to you sooner, but these last few days have been some of my most challenging.
As you know, Monday afternoon was my first radiation treatment. Most of you are probably wondering exactly what that entails. The treatment is given in a room much like a normal x-ray suite. I lie down flat on a table. Then, the custom-fitted mask that I described before is put in place over my head, neck, and shoulders and fastened to the table. Then, an x-ray-like machine rotates around my head and neck delivering the radiation. It is not painful other than the fact that I have to lie flat. Lying flat, which you may recall me saying, increases the pain in my tongue. I used a local numbing agent to help with that today.
Thankfully, I am not claustrophobic. Certainly, it would be much more difficult if that were the case. Still, though I'm not claustrophobic and have never been an anxious person, there is something about these treatments that is unnerving. I think most of it revolves around the uncertainty of how my body will react to the treatments. I have heard so many horror stories about radiation - terrible mouth sores, dry mouth, difficulty swallowing, hoarseness, stiff neck, skin burns, dental decay and more. So, each day, before going in for the treatment, it is almost impossible to remove these uncertainties from the mind. They have a way of looming over the entire process. Thankfully, it only lasts about 20 minutes. While I am lying on the table, I try to remember the verses I have shared with you about fear and all the encouragement and verses you have shared with me, as well. As I've said before, He knew this day would come long before I was born, and He is ready to supply my needs with precision. As one of my favorite songs reminds me, He is mighty to save. As a couple of you have reminded me, while I am receiving radiation beams for my cancer, He is also busy radiating His loving-kindness toward me. Three down - only 30 to go.
My first round of the more potent chemo was administered yesterday. The infusion went well. Unfortunately, today has brought some of my worst nausea. I have not actually vomited, though, which is a blessing, as it greatly increases my tongue pain. I am taking various anti-nausea medications and expect it to get better soon, especially with all your prayers. My next infusion is scheduled for 21 days from yesterday.
This brings us to the latest news, which I know Doug has already shared with some of you. Yesterday, Dr. Gilbert decided that it was time to place a temporary PEG tube. PEG tubes are placed directly into the stomach through the abdominal wall and allow for adequate nutritional and caloric intake when a patient is unable to maintain weight through oral consumption. Because of my intermittent nausea and often excruciating mouth pain, I have lost about 16 pounds in the last 2 months. Click on the link below for a very good explanation of PEG tube insertion and use. I think it will help to calm any anxiety this news might cause you.
http://www.oralcancerfoundation.org/dental/tube_feeding.htm
As you will learn from this article, placement of the tube is very simple and quick and not regarded as dangerous. Actually, I am relieved to be undergoing this procedure. Of course, I had hoped to make it through this process without a feeding tube, but that just stemmed from male stubbornness more than anything. At this point, I have embraced the fact that having the tube in place will greatly decrease the stress I experience surrounding eating on a daily basis. It is very difficult to plan meals around my pain, because it can be so unpredictable. Also, even when the pain is controlled, my appetite just isn't what it needs to be to maintain my weight much less gain any weight. The tube will be placed during a very short, one-night hospital stay. The procedure itself is scheduled for tomorrow (Thursday) at 1:00 p.m. following my radiation treatment at 11:00 a.m. I will be released around midday on Friday and will have my last radiation treatment of the week before coming home.
Some of you are probably wondering if this would be a good time to visit. I cannot express to you how much gratitude I have for every single one of you - for your prayers, your emails, your voice mails, your cards, your letters, your gifts, and your desire to help in any way you can. In light of that, I want to reassure you that you ARE helping me. You have no idea what it means to know that while I try to sleep or eat or just keep my chin up, that so many of you, in several countries, are praying for me! Given that I have felt so poorly this week, I don't think it is the best time for a visit. I would rather see you when I can actually spend time talking with you or at least writing you notes, and I don't anticipate feeling like doing much of that right now. I hate to be dramatic, but it has taken me hours to type this post tonight. I do look forward to seeing each and every one one of you once I am feeling better.
Since I mentioned pain quite a bit in this post, I wanted to try to be a bit more clear about my situation with you. It has been suggested to me by some of you that perhaps in an attempt to stay really positive and with many of my earlier posts centering around topics other than my cancer, I might not have given you a completely accurate picture. There is such a fine line between being accurate, being overly dramatic, and conveying my faith in God to deliver. Yes, at times, the pain is excruciating indeed. There have been days when the best I could do was sit as still as possible in my chair and pray for it to pass. What I want you to know is that I do get relief - my gracious Heavenly Father provides it as He hears your prayers and mine. Also, we are continually adjusting my pain medication regimen to try to find the optimum combination, but, of course, all of those possibilities come from Him, as well. So, if I have not portrayed the situation as precisely as I could have, it is only because I want us all to focus on Him and all the miracles of which He is capable. I realize, however, that for us to appreciate truly what He accomplishes, we will need a clear understanding of where he has brought us from. I will try, therefore, to be as clear as possible going forward.
There are so many things on my heart that I would like to share with you right now - thoughts that have been brought on by the cancer, but not necessarily about the cancer itself. Unfortunately, today I just do not have the creative energy to convey those thoughts in a way I would find acceptable. I trust they will keep for later.
I love all of you so very, very much and am truly grateful for you. Whenever you fret about something to do to help, just take a few moments on your knees. That is doing so much, and I will always be grateful.
"What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee." -Psalm 56:3
As you know, Monday afternoon was my first radiation treatment. Most of you are probably wondering exactly what that entails. The treatment is given in a room much like a normal x-ray suite. I lie down flat on a table. Then, the custom-fitted mask that I described before is put in place over my head, neck, and shoulders and fastened to the table. Then, an x-ray-like machine rotates around my head and neck delivering the radiation. It is not painful other than the fact that I have to lie flat. Lying flat, which you may recall me saying, increases the pain in my tongue. I used a local numbing agent to help with that today.
Thankfully, I am not claustrophobic. Certainly, it would be much more difficult if that were the case. Still, though I'm not claustrophobic and have never been an anxious person, there is something about these treatments that is unnerving. I think most of it revolves around the uncertainty of how my body will react to the treatments. I have heard so many horror stories about radiation - terrible mouth sores, dry mouth, difficulty swallowing, hoarseness, stiff neck, skin burns, dental decay and more. So, each day, before going in for the treatment, it is almost impossible to remove these uncertainties from the mind. They have a way of looming over the entire process. Thankfully, it only lasts about 20 minutes. While I am lying on the table, I try to remember the verses I have shared with you about fear and all the encouragement and verses you have shared with me, as well. As I've said before, He knew this day would come long before I was born, and He is ready to supply my needs with precision. As one of my favorite songs reminds me, He is mighty to save. As a couple of you have reminded me, while I am receiving radiation beams for my cancer, He is also busy radiating His loving-kindness toward me. Three down - only 30 to go.
My first round of the more potent chemo was administered yesterday. The infusion went well. Unfortunately, today has brought some of my worst nausea. I have not actually vomited, though, which is a blessing, as it greatly increases my tongue pain. I am taking various anti-nausea medications and expect it to get better soon, especially with all your prayers. My next infusion is scheduled for 21 days from yesterday.
This brings us to the latest news, which I know Doug has already shared with some of you. Yesterday, Dr. Gilbert decided that it was time to place a temporary PEG tube. PEG tubes are placed directly into the stomach through the abdominal wall and allow for adequate nutritional and caloric intake when a patient is unable to maintain weight through oral consumption. Because of my intermittent nausea and often excruciating mouth pain, I have lost about 16 pounds in the last 2 months. Click on the link below for a very good explanation of PEG tube insertion and use. I think it will help to calm any anxiety this news might cause you.
http://www.oralcancerfoundation.org/dental/tube_feeding.htm
As you will learn from this article, placement of the tube is very simple and quick and not regarded as dangerous. Actually, I am relieved to be undergoing this procedure. Of course, I had hoped to make it through this process without a feeding tube, but that just stemmed from male stubbornness more than anything. At this point, I have embraced the fact that having the tube in place will greatly decrease the stress I experience surrounding eating on a daily basis. It is very difficult to plan meals around my pain, because it can be so unpredictable. Also, even when the pain is controlled, my appetite just isn't what it needs to be to maintain my weight much less gain any weight. The tube will be placed during a very short, one-night hospital stay. The procedure itself is scheduled for tomorrow (Thursday) at 1:00 p.m. following my radiation treatment at 11:00 a.m. I will be released around midday on Friday and will have my last radiation treatment of the week before coming home.
Some of you are probably wondering if this would be a good time to visit. I cannot express to you how much gratitude I have for every single one of you - for your prayers, your emails, your voice mails, your cards, your letters, your gifts, and your desire to help in any way you can. In light of that, I want to reassure you that you ARE helping me. You have no idea what it means to know that while I try to sleep or eat or just keep my chin up, that so many of you, in several countries, are praying for me! Given that I have felt so poorly this week, I don't think it is the best time for a visit. I would rather see you when I can actually spend time talking with you or at least writing you notes, and I don't anticipate feeling like doing much of that right now. I hate to be dramatic, but it has taken me hours to type this post tonight. I do look forward to seeing each and every one one of you once I am feeling better.
Since I mentioned pain quite a bit in this post, I wanted to try to be a bit more clear about my situation with you. It has been suggested to me by some of you that perhaps in an attempt to stay really positive and with many of my earlier posts centering around topics other than my cancer, I might not have given you a completely accurate picture. There is such a fine line between being accurate, being overly dramatic, and conveying my faith in God to deliver. Yes, at times, the pain is excruciating indeed. There have been days when the best I could do was sit as still as possible in my chair and pray for it to pass. What I want you to know is that I do get relief - my gracious Heavenly Father provides it as He hears your prayers and mine. Also, we are continually adjusting my pain medication regimen to try to find the optimum combination, but, of course, all of those possibilities come from Him, as well. So, if I have not portrayed the situation as precisely as I could have, it is only because I want us all to focus on Him and all the miracles of which He is capable. I realize, however, that for us to appreciate truly what He accomplishes, we will need a clear understanding of where he has brought us from. I will try, therefore, to be as clear as possible going forward.
There are so many things on my heart that I would like to share with you right now - thoughts that have been brought on by the cancer, but not necessarily about the cancer itself. Unfortunately, today I just do not have the creative energy to convey those thoughts in a way I would find acceptable. I trust they will keep for later.
I love all of you so very, very much and am truly grateful for you. Whenever you fret about something to do to help, just take a few moments on your knees. That is doing so much, and I will always be grateful.
"What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee." -Psalm 56:3
Monday, June 23, 2008
I was sick
I'm sorry it has been so many days since I posted anything new. I intended to get up early enough today to compose a substantial entry, but my days are still very unpredictable. I have to leave very soon for my first radiation treatment (2:30 appointment), but hopefully I will have the energy to write tonight.
I did want to share a passage of scripture with you before I leave.
I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me ... I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me. -Matthew 25:35, 36, & 40
From deep within ... thank you for looking after me.
May you be captivated by Him today.
I did want to share a passage of scripture with you before I leave.
I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me ... I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me. -Matthew 25:35, 36, & 40
From deep within ... thank you for looking after me.
May you be captivated by Him today.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Poor Pluto
I think something lighthearted is in order this morning.
I'm not very diligent at keeping up with world events, but I did know that Pluto had lost its status as a planet some time ago. Then, a few days ago as I opened my homepage, I was informed that it would have to undergo a name change, as well. Isn't losing planet status enough? Apparently, it will now be referred to as "a plutoid." Not even a proper name. These people don't know when to stop. Poor Pluto.
There isn't a lot of news on the medical front today. Here are the highlights:
1. Radiation, as previously posted, begins Monday, June 23rd. I am scheduled for 33 treatments total. They will last about 25 minutes each.
2. A new chemotherapy regimen, which will be administered at least twice during the course of my radiation treatments, begins on Tuesday. On that day, I will have radiation and a six hour chemotherapy infusion.
Pray for:
God's glorification - may His grace be experienced by many as a result of my struggle.
Healing - He is able to restore me completely.
Courage - that I would abandon myself to Him anew each morning.
I love you all and thank you for walking with me during these hard times. I cherish every ounce of encouragement you offer.
I'm not very diligent at keeping up with world events, but I did know that Pluto had lost its status as a planet some time ago. Then, a few days ago as I opened my homepage, I was informed that it would have to undergo a name change, as well. Isn't losing planet status enough? Apparently, it will now be referred to as "a plutoid." Not even a proper name. These people don't know when to stop. Poor Pluto.
There isn't a lot of news on the medical front today. Here are the highlights:
1. Radiation, as previously posted, begins Monday, June 23rd. I am scheduled for 33 treatments total. They will last about 25 minutes each.
2. A new chemotherapy regimen, which will be administered at least twice during the course of my radiation treatments, begins on Tuesday. On that day, I will have radiation and a six hour chemotherapy infusion.
Pray for:
God's glorification - may His grace be experienced by many as a result of my struggle.
Healing - He is able to restore me completely.
Courage - that I would abandon myself to Him anew each morning.
I love you all and thank you for walking with me during these hard times. I cherish every ounce of encouragement you offer.
Monday, June 16, 2008
On Fear
We have been studying Nehemiah at church. With the wall of Jerusalem in ruins, the people live in fear of attack. Nehemiah courageously responds to God's call to lead his people in the rebuilding process. As they begin rebuilding, the Israelites are constantly surrounded by their enemy and the looming threat of being attacked in the exposed places of their fledgling wall. They are afraid! Nehemiah reminds them:
"Don't be afraid of them. Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome, and fight ..." -Nehemiah 4:14
"Our God will fight for us!" -Nehemiah 4:20
Taking these promises on as shields, great progress is made so that only the doors are left to be set in the gates. The enemy, therefore, quickly begins taunting the Israelites that their hands will get too weak for the work, and it will be left incomplete. Nehemiah responds with this simple prayer:
"Now strengthen my hands." -Nehemiah 6:9
Indeed, God did, and the wall was completed in just 52 days.
We started this study on Nehemiah in January, long before my cancer diagnosis. Of course, I had no idea the life application it would soon afford. I remember my pastor stating that feeling fear is okay, but you cannot separate fear from God's presence. He pointed out that the command to fear not is usually followed by a command to remember God. We are human, so we will feel fear. As quickly as we feel it, though, we must remember our awesome God, who is capable of rescuing us from any fire.
Fire reminds me of the first Daniel, whose friends were rescued from it by the same God who rescues us today and who himself was rescued from a den of lions. It was after this miraculous rescue that King Darius issued this decree:
"In every part of my kingdom people must fear and reverence the God of Daniel. For he is the living God and he endures forever; his kingdom will not be destroyed, his dominion will never end. He rescues and he saves; he performs signs and wonders in the heavens and on the earth. He has rescued Daniel from the power of the lions." -Daniel 6:26-27
This passage from Daniel first brought me strength while I was working as a summer missionary in Estes Park, Colorado, during college. On Sundays, I led worship services in the Rocky Mountain National Park for travelers, but during the week, I worked at one of the attractions in Estes Park, which included go-karts, bumper boats, bumper cars, and miniature golf. The ministry looked for jobs that would help us make money for our upcoming school year, but also put us in a place where there was ample opportunity to share our faith. My job was a perfect combination. Indeed, I worked many hours and was able to save for school, but most importanly, I worked with about 30 other young people ranging from about 13 to 21. (I was 19 at the time.)
That area of Colorado had a certain spirituality about it, so the concept of God or at least a god, was not foreign. Jesus, however, as God and Saviour was definitely a new concept to many of those kids. A few of them seemed hungry to hear the truth about Jesus and how he had changed my life and most of the rest were at least tolerant of it casually being woven into daily discussions. (Jesus isn't something to be forced on others. He doesn't need us for that. If He wanted to force Himself on creation, He could have done that long ago. We are meant to testify of the difference He has made in our lives and let others know that He invites them into relationship with Him - an authentic relationship that breathes new life into every moment of every day.) One coworker, however, seemed to loathe me from the beginning. Granted, I think he loathed a lot of people and just life in general at times, but it was evident he had a special loathing for me. It became clear quickly that in attempting to show him the love of Christ, I would experience persecution. Indeed, he seized any opportunity to embarrass me, to make me feel out of place, to make me feel ... small.
Specifics aren't important. You need know only that he persecuted with skill. I feared having to work with him. It was never a fear of physical danger, though he was much bigger than I. His angle was purely psychological and every moment in his presence was dreaded. Then, God led me to this passage from Daniel. When I read that he had rescued Daniel from the power of the lions, I took it personally! I became Daniel (how handy that I had been given his name), and my coworker became my lion. I read this passage as God's promise to me that not only would he rescue me from the power of the lions, He had already done so! In my desire to honor Him, He would guard my way. My fear was harnessed every time I remembered God's promise to me.
Now, 14 years later, these verses are alive again. The lion has a different face, but the same God will deliver.
Because I know that feeling the fear is inevitable, I have sought out more ammunition against it in scipture. I'll share several of those findings with you later, but I wanted to share one more interesting thing I read regarding fear elsewhere first. It came from The Shack by William P. Young. Now, I know people either love this book or think it blashphemous, and I don't intend to endorse it or dog it. In fact, I haven't even finished it. I did find wisdom in this comment, though, and I think it's worth sharing no matter what you think of the book as a whole. In the book, Jesus poses this important question on fear: "Do you realize that your imagination of the future, which is almost always dictated by fear of some kind, rarely, if ever, pictures me there with you?" When I read this question, I realized that my fears surrounding radiation had indeed pictured me lying solo on the treatment table, heaving solo over the commode, and struggling solo to force food over mouth ulcerations. I was guilty of picturing my fear without the company of my best friend!
That brings me back to the ammunition I found in scripture, which never disconnects the Great Comforter from the fear.
"But Jesus came and touched them. Get up, he said. Don't be afraid. When they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus." -Matthew 17:7
"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." -Joshua 1:9
The examples are endless and this post could go on forever. Bottom line: My fear is real, but my Jesus is here.
He is there with you, as well.
Today's lowdown:
1. Radiation begins Monday morning. I am scheduled for 33 treatments to be given Monday through Friday lasting through the first week of August.
2. My new chemo regimen will likely start on Tuesday and be given in 3 six-hour sessions spread over the course of the radiation therapy.
3. It was a good day - I ate well again, had no bad side effects, and my pain is controlled with my current medication regimen.
4. Your encouragment means the world.
"Don't be afraid of them. Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome, and fight ..." -Nehemiah 4:14
"Our God will fight for us!" -Nehemiah 4:20
Taking these promises on as shields, great progress is made so that only the doors are left to be set in the gates. The enemy, therefore, quickly begins taunting the Israelites that their hands will get too weak for the work, and it will be left incomplete. Nehemiah responds with this simple prayer:
"Now strengthen my hands." -Nehemiah 6:9
Indeed, God did, and the wall was completed in just 52 days.
We started this study on Nehemiah in January, long before my cancer diagnosis. Of course, I had no idea the life application it would soon afford. I remember my pastor stating that feeling fear is okay, but you cannot separate fear from God's presence. He pointed out that the command to fear not is usually followed by a command to remember God. We are human, so we will feel fear. As quickly as we feel it, though, we must remember our awesome God, who is capable of rescuing us from any fire.
Fire reminds me of the first Daniel, whose friends were rescued from it by the same God who rescues us today and who himself was rescued from a den of lions. It was after this miraculous rescue that King Darius issued this decree:
"In every part of my kingdom people must fear and reverence the God of Daniel. For he is the living God and he endures forever; his kingdom will not be destroyed, his dominion will never end. He rescues and he saves; he performs signs and wonders in the heavens and on the earth. He has rescued Daniel from the power of the lions." -Daniel 6:26-27
This passage from Daniel first brought me strength while I was working as a summer missionary in Estes Park, Colorado, during college. On Sundays, I led worship services in the Rocky Mountain National Park for travelers, but during the week, I worked at one of the attractions in Estes Park, which included go-karts, bumper boats, bumper cars, and miniature golf. The ministry looked for jobs that would help us make money for our upcoming school year, but also put us in a place where there was ample opportunity to share our faith. My job was a perfect combination. Indeed, I worked many hours and was able to save for school, but most importanly, I worked with about 30 other young people ranging from about 13 to 21. (I was 19 at the time.)
That area of Colorado had a certain spirituality about it, so the concept of God or at least a god, was not foreign. Jesus, however, as God and Saviour was definitely a new concept to many of those kids. A few of them seemed hungry to hear the truth about Jesus and how he had changed my life and most of the rest were at least tolerant of it casually being woven into daily discussions. (Jesus isn't something to be forced on others. He doesn't need us for that. If He wanted to force Himself on creation, He could have done that long ago. We are meant to testify of the difference He has made in our lives and let others know that He invites them into relationship with Him - an authentic relationship that breathes new life into every moment of every day.) One coworker, however, seemed to loathe me from the beginning. Granted, I think he loathed a lot of people and just life in general at times, but it was evident he had a special loathing for me. It became clear quickly that in attempting to show him the love of Christ, I would experience persecution. Indeed, he seized any opportunity to embarrass me, to make me feel out of place, to make me feel ... small.
Specifics aren't important. You need know only that he persecuted with skill. I feared having to work with him. It was never a fear of physical danger, though he was much bigger than I. His angle was purely psychological and every moment in his presence was dreaded. Then, God led me to this passage from Daniel. When I read that he had rescued Daniel from the power of the lions, I took it personally! I became Daniel (how handy that I had been given his name), and my coworker became my lion. I read this passage as God's promise to me that not only would he rescue me from the power of the lions, He had already done so! In my desire to honor Him, He would guard my way. My fear was harnessed every time I remembered God's promise to me.
Now, 14 years later, these verses are alive again. The lion has a different face, but the same God will deliver.
Because I know that feeling the fear is inevitable, I have sought out more ammunition against it in scipture. I'll share several of those findings with you later, but I wanted to share one more interesting thing I read regarding fear elsewhere first. It came from The Shack by William P. Young. Now, I know people either love this book or think it blashphemous, and I don't intend to endorse it or dog it. In fact, I haven't even finished it. I did find wisdom in this comment, though, and I think it's worth sharing no matter what you think of the book as a whole. In the book, Jesus poses this important question on fear: "Do you realize that your imagination of the future, which is almost always dictated by fear of some kind, rarely, if ever, pictures me there with you?" When I read this question, I realized that my fears surrounding radiation had indeed pictured me lying solo on the treatment table, heaving solo over the commode, and struggling solo to force food over mouth ulcerations. I was guilty of picturing my fear without the company of my best friend!
That brings me back to the ammunition I found in scripture, which never disconnects the Great Comforter from the fear.
"But Jesus came and touched them. Get up, he said. Don't be afraid. When they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus." -Matthew 17:7
"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." -Joshua 1:9
The examples are endless and this post could go on forever. Bottom line: My fear is real, but my Jesus is here.
He is there with you, as well.
Today's lowdown:
1. Radiation begins Monday morning. I am scheduled for 33 treatments to be given Monday through Friday lasting through the first week of August.
2. My new chemo regimen will likely start on Tuesday and be given in 3 six-hour sessions spread over the course of the radiation therapy.
3. It was a good day - I ate well again, had no bad side effects, and my pain is controlled with my current medication regimen.
4. Your encouragment means the world.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Relenting
I'm not sure where to begin today. My heart and mind are so full. I know you probably want more details about yesterday's visit, so I will begin there, but there is much I want to share.
As brother said yesterday, Dr. Gilbert did think the tumor had responded, if only a small amount, to last week's treatment. She was forthright that it did not show a drastic response, but still, there was a response, which is finally a move in the right direction. We have to keep in mind that until yesterday, this thing has been moving rapidly in the wrong direction with that relentless quality of which Dr. Sinard spoke. This week, it appears there has been some relenting, and I am so grateful to God for that news!
Let me change directions for a second here to mention that I am not surprised, and I don't think you will be either. God wouldn't tell us to pray without ceasing if it were a fruitless activity. Granted, our desires may not always be in line with his great plans, but it sure is nice when they are! Thank you for praying for this response - thank God, giving Him all the glory, for providing it!
As you'll recall, we were hoping for this news yesterday. Otherwise, I was looking at starting radiation therapy this coming Monday along with a more aggressive 2-drug chemo cocktail. Here is the new plan and the reason for its selection. Radiation has been in my future since almost the beginning. The only way I could have avoided radiation would have been if the tumor had been small enough to remove surgically and there were no positive lymph nodes. Since there was a positive lymph node in my neck from the beginning of testing, I was at least looking at radiation on my neck. After the tumor exploded, it became clear that I would need chemotherapy along with radiation on both the oral cavity and neck. When Dr. Gilbert first took over, she envisioned doing a 9 week round of my current chemo regimen, which would hopefully get a dramatic response from the tumor and also create a fertile ground for radiation to follow. Since I have not responded quite as dramatically to my current regimen as expected, Dr. Gilbert thinks it best to change directions. While she does not believe the really aggressive plan discussed last week is necessary, she does want to get more aggressive than originally planned. She cites my youth and healthfulness along with the "unkind" nature of my tumor as good reasons to do so. Besides, since radiation is down my road anyway and we haven't seen the typical response to chemo alone thus far, she wants to get radiation on board more quickly.
The good news here is that I do not have to start radiation on Monday. I will start it soon, though - probably Monday after next. Also, my chemo regimen will be changed from the current regimen to one stronger drug instead of two stronger drugs. (For my medical friends who are just dying to know which one, send me an email. I don't like cluttering up my blog with the names of chemotherapy drugs.) I will receive infusions of the new drug once every 3 weeks in addition to radiation treatments. These particular chemo sessions will still be outpatient, but will take about 6 hours due to some extra monitoring that must be done. Radiation treatments will last for about 25 minutes (actual treatment time) each and occur every day for 33 treatments. Once these are finished, I will be reassessed. Hopefully, no surgical intervention will be necessary. It is possible, though, that a less extensive procedure might be recommended. There could also be additional chemo in my future, but more than likely, there would be a break from treatment to monitor my progress with serial imaging. Bottom line is they won't stop until they think they have done everything possible to increase my cure rate percentage.
I'm sure you're wondering how I feel about all of this, and I want to assure you that I feel very pleased with yesterday's visit. I am thankful that I have another week or so before radiation begins, but also glad that Dr. Gilbert wants to get a little more aggressive. I am grateful that it doesn't have to start this Monday, which will give me another week to gain some more strength since I am now responding somewhat to chemo. I continue to feel like God has me in the palm of His hand. He has great plans, and He will accomplish them all. He already has revealed so much of his greatness throughout all of this, and I am confident He will continue to do so.
I do not walk blindly into the dark days ahead. Instead, I go with the command in Joshua 1:9 ... "Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."
One more short, encouraging note from yesterday - Dr. Gilbert gave me yet another anti-nausea medication. This is the big daddy of them all. I took it yesterday before treatment, today, and will take another tomorrow. She hopes this will completely eliminate the post chemo vomiting. Please add that to your prayers, as well.
I do have so much more I want to share outside of yesterday's visit, but I will save it for a later post - perhaps later tonight or tomorrow.
Hope you are all having a great weekend. Again, thank you for your amazing support!
As brother said yesterday, Dr. Gilbert did think the tumor had responded, if only a small amount, to last week's treatment. She was forthright that it did not show a drastic response, but still, there was a response, which is finally a move in the right direction. We have to keep in mind that until yesterday, this thing has been moving rapidly in the wrong direction with that relentless quality of which Dr. Sinard spoke. This week, it appears there has been some relenting, and I am so grateful to God for that news!
Let me change directions for a second here to mention that I am not surprised, and I don't think you will be either. God wouldn't tell us to pray without ceasing if it were a fruitless activity. Granted, our desires may not always be in line with his great plans, but it sure is nice when they are! Thank you for praying for this response - thank God, giving Him all the glory, for providing it!
As you'll recall, we were hoping for this news yesterday. Otherwise, I was looking at starting radiation therapy this coming Monday along with a more aggressive 2-drug chemo cocktail. Here is the new plan and the reason for its selection. Radiation has been in my future since almost the beginning. The only way I could have avoided radiation would have been if the tumor had been small enough to remove surgically and there were no positive lymph nodes. Since there was a positive lymph node in my neck from the beginning of testing, I was at least looking at radiation on my neck. After the tumor exploded, it became clear that I would need chemotherapy along with radiation on both the oral cavity and neck. When Dr. Gilbert first took over, she envisioned doing a 9 week round of my current chemo regimen, which would hopefully get a dramatic response from the tumor and also create a fertile ground for radiation to follow. Since I have not responded quite as dramatically to my current regimen as expected, Dr. Gilbert thinks it best to change directions. While she does not believe the really aggressive plan discussed last week is necessary, she does want to get more aggressive than originally planned. She cites my youth and healthfulness along with the "unkind" nature of my tumor as good reasons to do so. Besides, since radiation is down my road anyway and we haven't seen the typical response to chemo alone thus far, she wants to get radiation on board more quickly.
The good news here is that I do not have to start radiation on Monday. I will start it soon, though - probably Monday after next. Also, my chemo regimen will be changed from the current regimen to one stronger drug instead of two stronger drugs. (For my medical friends who are just dying to know which one, send me an email. I don't like cluttering up my blog with the names of chemotherapy drugs.) I will receive infusions of the new drug once every 3 weeks in addition to radiation treatments. These particular chemo sessions will still be outpatient, but will take about 6 hours due to some extra monitoring that must be done. Radiation treatments will last for about 25 minutes (actual treatment time) each and occur every day for 33 treatments. Once these are finished, I will be reassessed. Hopefully, no surgical intervention will be necessary. It is possible, though, that a less extensive procedure might be recommended. There could also be additional chemo in my future, but more than likely, there would be a break from treatment to monitor my progress with serial imaging. Bottom line is they won't stop until they think they have done everything possible to increase my cure rate percentage.
I'm sure you're wondering how I feel about all of this, and I want to assure you that I feel very pleased with yesterday's visit. I am thankful that I have another week or so before radiation begins, but also glad that Dr. Gilbert wants to get a little more aggressive. I am grateful that it doesn't have to start this Monday, which will give me another week to gain some more strength since I am now responding somewhat to chemo. I continue to feel like God has me in the palm of His hand. He has great plans, and He will accomplish them all. He already has revealed so much of his greatness throughout all of this, and I am confident He will continue to do so.
I do not walk blindly into the dark days ahead. Instead, I go with the command in Joshua 1:9 ... "Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."
One more short, encouraging note from yesterday - Dr. Gilbert gave me yet another anti-nausea medication. This is the big daddy of them all. I took it yesterday before treatment, today, and will take another tomorrow. She hopes this will completely eliminate the post chemo vomiting. Please add that to your prayers, as well.
I do have so much more I want to share outside of yesterday's visit, but I will save it for a later post - perhaps later tonight or tomorrow.
Hope you are all having a great weekend. Again, thank you for your amazing support!
Friday, June 13, 2008
Today's visit . . .
Daniel wanted me to write a quick note about today's appointment since he is, in his words, "in good spirits but wiped out." (The appointment was at 1:15 p.m., and we finished chemo at about 6:30 p.m.) Overall, today's news was good. The chemo oncologist thinks the tumor is better/smaller than it was last week - answered prayer - but she also said she sees radiation therapy in Daniel's near future. Her main reason is this: since the tumor isn't exactly melting away with chemo alone, a combination of radiation and chemotherapy is expected to work better; she said that Daniel is young and strong, and she believes his body can handle the two. Daniel will give more details tomorrow when he's had time to rest. Thanks to everyone for your fervent prayers.
Blessings to you all,
Doug (Sasquatch)
Blessings to you all,
Doug (Sasquatch)
Thank you!
Just wanted to thank all of you for praying so hard this week! I will update the blog as soon as I can with today's outcome. I hope you all have a wonderful day. May God bless you richly.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Get the wood ready
Today's adventure:
I am scheduled to see the dentist this morning at 11:00 for removal of a couple of crowns that contain metal. If these were present during radiation, they could greatly increase the severity of my mouth soreness.
Of course, we have all prayed that radiation will not have to start on this rapid timetable, and I do not believe it will, but as my mother eloquently reminded me this morning ... even Abraham had to get the wood ready.
I hope you all have a great day today.
Trust Him with your lives - every little part.
I am scheduled to see the dentist this morning at 11:00 for removal of a couple of crowns that contain metal. If these were present during radiation, they could greatly increase the severity of my mouth soreness.
Of course, we have all prayed that radiation will not have to start on this rapid timetable, and I do not believe it will, but as my mother eloquently reminded me this morning ... even Abraham had to get the wood ready.
I hope you all have a great day today.
Trust Him with your lives - every little part.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Rest
I'm thankful to report that today has been a very quiet day. I don't have a lot to say, but wanted to at least type a short note to let you know how moved I was by all the prayers offered on my behalf last evening. You have no idea how comforting it was to know that so many of you were petitioning the Father simultaneously. There is no way I can adequately convey my gratitude. Of course, it is also comforting to know that the prayers did not stop after last night's meetings. I know you are continuing to pray - there is much rest there.
I am glad that we can all find rest in Him.
I do have some great news to report. I asked for prayer for my friend Bryan Larson when I started this blog. Some of you might have visited his site via my links. He was moved to a rehabilitation hospital this week and is doing extremely well with therapy. Praise God for His presence throughout every phase of Bryan's battle. Continue to pray for him as the rehabilitation process will probably be about 2 months long.
Also, I wanted to request prayer for the friend of a friend. Dr. Karen Barefoot is the dear friend of our practice administrator, Mischelle Ferrell, at Cumberland Family Care where I work. Recently, she was diagnosed with a brain tumor and had emergency surgery, which went really well. I have just learned today that she has arrived safely at Cookeville Regional Rehabilitation. We thank God for providing for Karen during this terrifying time as only He can do. I ask you to pray that He continue to comfort her during the long road of rehab.
One thing is for sure, no one is ever the only person facing daunting challenges. Sometimes, though, it is easy to get so tangled in our own experiences that we forget the plights of others. When I am ill, I pray that my heart would still beat hard for the needs of others. When I am well, may it beat even harder.
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." -Matthew 11:28
May we continue coming to Him - not just for ourselves, but for all those who need His touch.
I am glad that we can all find rest in Him.
I do have some great news to report. I asked for prayer for my friend Bryan Larson when I started this blog. Some of you might have visited his site via my links. He was moved to a rehabilitation hospital this week and is doing extremely well with therapy. Praise God for His presence throughout every phase of Bryan's battle. Continue to pray for him as the rehabilitation process will probably be about 2 months long.
Also, I wanted to request prayer for the friend of a friend. Dr. Karen Barefoot is the dear friend of our practice administrator, Mischelle Ferrell, at Cumberland Family Care where I work. Recently, she was diagnosed with a brain tumor and had emergency surgery, which went really well. I have just learned today that she has arrived safely at Cookeville Regional Rehabilitation. We thank God for providing for Karen during this terrifying time as only He can do. I ask you to pray that He continue to comfort her during the long road of rehab.
One thing is for sure, no one is ever the only person facing daunting challenges. Sometimes, though, it is easy to get so tangled in our own experiences that we forget the plights of others. When I am ill, I pray that my heart would still beat hard for the needs of others. When I am well, may it beat even harder.
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." -Matthew 11:28
May we continue coming to Him - not just for ourselves, but for all those who need His touch.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Prayer meetings
This is a message I prepared to be read at the prayer meetings taking place tonight. Some of you may not see it until the meeting is over - I apologize for not posting sooner. Thank you all once again and may God richly bless you for your sacrifice on my behalf!
First, I want to thank all of you for taking precious moments from your busy lives to pray for me. One thing an illness like this makes clear – all moments truly are precious. So, I thank you for taking time away from those things most important in your own lives to be here for me tonight. It is truly moving.
Next, as you meet, I want to remind you of something I discussed in my first announcement. It is so tempting to ask “Why?” That simple question can branch out onto many fruitless paths. Ultimately, the question has already been answered. We are taught in scripture that our purpose on earth is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. Instead of spending time asking why this happened to me, let’s spend our time praying that God will be glorified to the fullest degree through my illness.
I want to be healed, and I do pray that you will ask the Father boldly for complete healing, but most of all, I want His will to be accomplished. I want lives to be changed. I ask you to pray boldly that many, who are without a personal relationship with our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, will be drawn into such a relationship as a result of my earthly struggle. Do you realize that if one soul is saved from eternal separation from God – hell - that it is worth all the cancer treatment that can be thrown my way?! It most certainly is. I pray for healing, yes, but I also pray that God makes a difference in His kingdom as He reveals His glory in my trials. I pray that many will come to experience the balm of relationship with the creator of the universe as they watch Him soothe me during these days.
There may even be some in attendance here tonight who have not begun a relationship with Jesus Christ, our perfect Redeemer. If not, don’t waste another precious moment. Seal your eternal destiny tonight!
For those of you here who have already given your lives to Jesus, who have already accepted His healing grace – make sure you aren’t wasting moments either. Remember, for you, eternal life does not begin when you die. Indeed, it has begun already! It began the moment you invited Jesus Christ to live inside you and direct your path. Start enjoying eternal life today! You get to be with the loving-kind creator of the universe for the remainder of your existence on earth and forever and ever and ever! Your time with Him will never cease – don’t let the joy of this truth escape you until Heaven. Start relishing it today – eternal life has begun! You have a Father who loves you and is with you wherever you go and whatever you face. So, go about your day glorifying Him with your decisions and enjoying his unfathomable goodness – it truly is everywhere even in the midst of earthly confusion, especially in the midst of earthly confusion!
May His Word strengthen us tonight and always …
“Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him.” – Job 13:15
“I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten.” – Joel 2:25
“I know that you can do all things; no plan of yours can be thwarted.” –Job 42:2
“The Almighty is beyond our reach and exalted in power; in his justice and great righteousness, he does not oppress.” –Job 37:23
First, I want to thank all of you for taking precious moments from your busy lives to pray for me. One thing an illness like this makes clear – all moments truly are precious. So, I thank you for taking time away from those things most important in your own lives to be here for me tonight. It is truly moving.
Next, as you meet, I want to remind you of something I discussed in my first announcement. It is so tempting to ask “Why?” That simple question can branch out onto many fruitless paths. Ultimately, the question has already been answered. We are taught in scripture that our purpose on earth is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. Instead of spending time asking why this happened to me, let’s spend our time praying that God will be glorified to the fullest degree through my illness.
I want to be healed, and I do pray that you will ask the Father boldly for complete healing, but most of all, I want His will to be accomplished. I want lives to be changed. I ask you to pray boldly that many, who are without a personal relationship with our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, will be drawn into such a relationship as a result of my earthly struggle. Do you realize that if one soul is saved from eternal separation from God – hell - that it is worth all the cancer treatment that can be thrown my way?! It most certainly is. I pray for healing, yes, but I also pray that God makes a difference in His kingdom as He reveals His glory in my trials. I pray that many will come to experience the balm of relationship with the creator of the universe as they watch Him soothe me during these days.
There may even be some in attendance here tonight who have not begun a relationship with Jesus Christ, our perfect Redeemer. If not, don’t waste another precious moment. Seal your eternal destiny tonight!
For those of you here who have already given your lives to Jesus, who have already accepted His healing grace – make sure you aren’t wasting moments either. Remember, for you, eternal life does not begin when you die. Indeed, it has begun already! It began the moment you invited Jesus Christ to live inside you and direct your path. Start enjoying eternal life today! You get to be with the loving-kind creator of the universe for the remainder of your existence on earth and forever and ever and ever! Your time with Him will never cease – don’t let the joy of this truth escape you until Heaven. Start relishing it today – eternal life has begun! You have a Father who loves you and is with you wherever you go and whatever you face. So, go about your day glorifying Him with your decisions and enjoying his unfathomable goodness – it truly is everywhere even in the midst of earthly confusion, especially in the midst of earthly confusion!
May His Word strengthen us tonight and always …
“Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him.” – Job 13:15
“I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten.” – Joel 2:25
“I know that you can do all things; no plan of yours can be thwarted.” –Job 42:2
“The Almighty is beyond our reach and exalted in power; in his justice and great righteousness, he does not oppress.” –Job 37:23
Monday, June 9, 2008
My perfect Jesus
Several quick things to report:
1. My family has organized a special prayer service tomorrow night, Tuesday, June 10th, at the First Freewill Baptist Church in Livingston, TN. I may not be able to attend but will do so if I am feeling able. Everyone is invited. We know that all of you are praying continually, but my family thought it would be a good idea if there was a corporate meeting. Obviously, many of you will not be able to attend, but, if possible, we ask that you join us at 7:00 p.m. wherever you are.
2. For those of you in the Nashville area, some dear friends are hosting a satellite service in their home. It will be at Randy Smith's home at 7:00 p.m. His address is 6324 Murray Lane, Brentwood, TN 37027. Again, everyone is invited.
3. We are believing God for great things, one being that the current chemo regimen is working this week, and I believe that it is. Dr. Cmelak (radiation oncologist) and Dr. Gilbert (chemo oncologist), however, want me to come in tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m. to start the process of mapping my radiation. Like I posted earlier, a special mask has to be made for my treatments to guide the beams. This takes time, of course. So, if I go in on Friday and Dr. Gilbert does not see improvement (join us in asking God boldly that this will not be the case), my chemotherapy regimen would be changed to a more potent cocktail, and I would begin radiation next week.
I believe in my perfect Jesus. Nothing is too big for Him. As I've said before, nothing ever catches him by surprise. I also believe in being real with people. So, I want you to know that this is very difficult on the body, mind, and spirit. When you pray for me, you go to battle for me. Please keep fighting hard. I know the Savior is listening. He will deliver perfect provisions in perfect timing.
Meanwhile, I must embrace the exhortation of James.
"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." -James 1:2-4
When He is finished with me, I will not lack a thing.
1. My family has organized a special prayer service tomorrow night, Tuesday, June 10th, at the First Freewill Baptist Church in Livingston, TN. I may not be able to attend but will do so if I am feeling able. Everyone is invited. We know that all of you are praying continually, but my family thought it would be a good idea if there was a corporate meeting. Obviously, many of you will not be able to attend, but, if possible, we ask that you join us at 7:00 p.m. wherever you are.
2. For those of you in the Nashville area, some dear friends are hosting a satellite service in their home. It will be at Randy Smith's home at 7:00 p.m. His address is 6324 Murray Lane, Brentwood, TN 37027. Again, everyone is invited.
3. We are believing God for great things, one being that the current chemo regimen is working this week, and I believe that it is. Dr. Cmelak (radiation oncologist) and Dr. Gilbert (chemo oncologist), however, want me to come in tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m. to start the process of mapping my radiation. Like I posted earlier, a special mask has to be made for my treatments to guide the beams. This takes time, of course. So, if I go in on Friday and Dr. Gilbert does not see improvement (join us in asking God boldly that this will not be the case), my chemotherapy regimen would be changed to a more potent cocktail, and I would begin radiation next week.
I believe in my perfect Jesus. Nothing is too big for Him. As I've said before, nothing ever catches him by surprise. I also believe in being real with people. So, I want you to know that this is very difficult on the body, mind, and spirit. When you pray for me, you go to battle for me. Please keep fighting hard. I know the Savior is listening. He will deliver perfect provisions in perfect timing.
Meanwhile, I must embrace the exhortation of James.
"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." -James 1:2-4
When He is finished with me, I will not lack a thing.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
The myth of invincibility
No one ever really believes it will happen to them. Sure, almost everyone has had fleeting thoughts of being diagnosed with cancer, suffering a heart attack or becoming paralyzed. In those moments, some of us even sincerely try to imagine what it would be like, but we are simply incapable. It's like we have an invincibility chip in our brains constantly feeding us this line that we are above the fray. "There's no way that will ever happen to you." So, we have another fleeting thought of pity on those to whom these things have happened, and then we are on with our day, content living in the myth of invincibility.
Then, like a hurricane in a pond, you are told you have tongue cancer at the age of 33 even though your past medical history is as clean a 10-year-old's, you don't smoke, you don't dip, and you're not nursing the bottle. Suddenly, myth moves out and emotion moves in. Myth was a quiet, neat, and predictable roommate. Emotion is loud, messy, and has multiple personalities. Unwelcome are shock, denial, anger, sadness, loneliness, and fear. Welcome, however, are courage, determination, faith, hope, trust, and gratitude. Thank God for the welcome ones.
I'd like to share a little of my gratitude. I was diagnosed with cancer on April 18, almost 2 months ago now. Month to month, week to week, day to day, hour to hour, and sometimes even minute to minute, I am receiving encouragement from loads of people ranging from immediate family to many that I don't even know.
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This is a photo of a luminary created in my honor for a relay for life vigil in Michigan by my friend Scott Moran's in-laws. Scott and I became really good friends at Vanderbilt. His wife, Kathy, is very special, too. She is now attending Vanderbilt herself - soon, they will be quite the medical team. Kathy's family, who lives in Michigan, created the luminary for me after hearing of my struggle, and I've never even met them! They still, however, took the time to make this for me and even personalized it with musical notes.
Below is a picture of a beautiful piece of art some of my dearest friends, Terrah, Randy, Lizzy, Brad, Rebecca and children (Connor, Davis, Griffin, Samantha, and Lee boy-to-be) bought me. It has a really cool story behind it. My church, Fellowship Bible in Brentwood, has a lot of artistic members. Every May, the church has a festival called Express, which seeks to glorify God by showcasing a variety of artistic talents, including music, dance, and visual arts. Terrah and I saw the original at the festival. I believe the artist, Meg Miller, called it Faith. I hope I'm not butchering her meaning, but I believe she commented that just like you have to have faith that a chair will hold you up when you sit, you have to have faith that God will hold you up during tumultuous times. Terrah and I were both struck by the chair and I commented that I needed one like it in my room to remind me that I have to sit still in faith and let God move.
Terrah didn't forget what I said, so when the gang wondered what to get me, she had the perfect idea. She tracked down Meg who agreed to make another one just for me. Meg commented that it was nice getting to pray specifically for me as she was working. That was very touching, of course. The gang gave this to me on Friday before my second chemotherapy session, and they all signed the back. This is a photo of a prayer shawl made for me by more people that 
I have never met. This was given to me by a friend of mine from my old job at Aspect Communications, Jennifer Gearhart McClure. This is a ministry of her mother's church. As they knit these shawls, they pray especially for the people who will be receiving them. It is meant to be worn while praying. The idea is that the prayers of those who made the shawl are covering you as you pray yourself. Jennifer wanted me to have this in the midst of making tough decisions about my treatment.
I have never met. This was given to me by a friend of mine from my old job at Aspect Communications, Jennifer Gearhart McClure. This is a ministry of her mother's church. As they knit these shawls, they pray especially for the people who will be receiving them. It is meant to be worn while praying. The idea is that the prayers of those who made the shawl are covering you as you pray yourself. Jennifer wanted me to have this in the midst of making tough decisions about my treatment.
This gift was picked out especially for me by Terrah's little nephew Benjamin, who is about 2 years old. I've got a little Sprite in my Goofy cup right now!
This is a music box given to me by Debbie Cagle, Terrah's sister-in-law Brooke's mother. It plays How Great Thou Art. Debbie doesn't know this, but that is my favorite song to hear my brother sing. Now, I can hear it anytime I want. 
Terrah gave me a book called Courage before my first chemotherapy session, and Brooke and Darren gave me Tony Dungy's autobiography. 
This is a beautiful quilt made for me by Rebecca's mother Donna (who treats me like I'm one of her own), her friend Debbie (who lost her daughter to leukemia and has encouraged me like a long-time friend even though we just met), and Rebecca. The section with the heart has an inscription that tells me to wrap myself in the quilt and know that I am loved by many. 
Of course, this isn't all the encouragement I have received. I couldn't begin to count the phone calls, texts, emails, cards, letters, prayer-grams, and well-wishes I have received. I have received many while typing this very post!
There's no way I could remember every kind gesture for mention in this post, but I hope all of you know the immense gratitude that I feel toward you.
I must not forget to give thanks to the Father, as well.
"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." -1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
Join me in being joyful over salvation, praying for healing, and giving thanks for His perfect love.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Outlandishly gracious
Today, I saw my oncologist, Dr. Gilbert, and her nurse, Beverly, before going to my chemotherapy session. Dr. Gilbert was disappointed that my pain level had not decreased and the tumor had not shrunk at all after last week's infusion. Most patients who are chemotherapy naive see a quick response where both pain levels and tumor size are concerned. It is disheartening that my body did not respond as most do; however, it is still possible that I will begin to respond to my current regimen. Another treatment, therefore, was given as scheduled today.
I will see Dr. Gilbert again next Friday before my third scheduled chemo infusion. If, on exam, the tumor seems to have begun responding, we will continue the same regimen of chemo for a total of 9 weeks and then proceed to radiation and lower doses of concurrent chemo. If the tumor does not appear smaller next week, my chemo regimen will be changed to a much more potent cocktail. Of course, a more potent cocktail means a better chance of killing cancer cells, but also means more attack on healthy cells and increased side effects. Hair loss, which doesn't bother me, is one. The other is intense nausea and vomiting. For this reason, Dr. Gilbert would hospitalize me for about 4 days for the first round of the new cocktail so that she can administer drugs intravenously to help prevent the nausea and vomiting.
If we have to go with the new cocktail, I will also begin preparation for radiation therapy as soon as possible. A special mask has to be created, which I will wear during the treatments to help target the beams appropriately. Of course, the goal is to kill all the bad tissue and protect as much of the good tissue as possible. Radiation will be very rough since it involves the side of my tongue primarily. It is thought to be more tolerable when it only involves the back of the tongue or the very tip.
I want all of you to know that I remain positive and continue to place my trust in our outlandishly gracious and loving Father. He did, however, give me a very black and white, analytical mind. Because of that, I want to be straight with you. I can't expect you to pray as fervently as I would like if I fail to level with you. I know I posted recently that I have heard cure rates ranging from 40-80%, but realistically, my cure rate where earthly medical knowledge is concerned is probably more like 40%. I say that not to scare you or be dramatic, but to help you grasp the gravity of my illness, and in doing so, spark passionate prayers. See, I know the Father can heal me if He so chooses, but I do believe that He wants us to cry out to Him. I must confess, there are days when getting through hygiene details and meals and some communication on this blog take all my energy. So, while I am still praying and will be, I need you to pray in my stead. I know you have been, and my gratitude just continues to grow.
I really believe that God will hear us, and I will begin to respond to this current regimen. In fact, I am feeling better or as good tonight as I have at any point during this week. I believe God has already started making a difference through today's treatment, because of your bold requests on my behalf.
My brother reminded me today that God doesn't care about cure rate percentages. A dear friend reminded me that "really ugly cancer + infinite, relentlessly loving God = big miracle." They're both correct, of course.
There are many fun and positive things to share today, as well, but even though I feel better, my mind is tired and needs rest. I'll write about the good stuff tomorrow, God willing.
I love you all, but more importantly, Jesus Christ, the Creator and Savior of the world loves you. How 'bout that?
"And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God." -Ephesians 3:17-19
I will see Dr. Gilbert again next Friday before my third scheduled chemo infusion. If, on exam, the tumor seems to have begun responding, we will continue the same regimen of chemo for a total of 9 weeks and then proceed to radiation and lower doses of concurrent chemo. If the tumor does not appear smaller next week, my chemo regimen will be changed to a much more potent cocktail. Of course, a more potent cocktail means a better chance of killing cancer cells, but also means more attack on healthy cells and increased side effects. Hair loss, which doesn't bother me, is one. The other is intense nausea and vomiting. For this reason, Dr. Gilbert would hospitalize me for about 4 days for the first round of the new cocktail so that she can administer drugs intravenously to help prevent the nausea and vomiting.
If we have to go with the new cocktail, I will also begin preparation for radiation therapy as soon as possible. A special mask has to be created, which I will wear during the treatments to help target the beams appropriately. Of course, the goal is to kill all the bad tissue and protect as much of the good tissue as possible. Radiation will be very rough since it involves the side of my tongue primarily. It is thought to be more tolerable when it only involves the back of the tongue or the very tip.
I want all of you to know that I remain positive and continue to place my trust in our outlandishly gracious and loving Father. He did, however, give me a very black and white, analytical mind. Because of that, I want to be straight with you. I can't expect you to pray as fervently as I would like if I fail to level with you. I know I posted recently that I have heard cure rates ranging from 40-80%, but realistically, my cure rate where earthly medical knowledge is concerned is probably more like 40%. I say that not to scare you or be dramatic, but to help you grasp the gravity of my illness, and in doing so, spark passionate prayers. See, I know the Father can heal me if He so chooses, but I do believe that He wants us to cry out to Him. I must confess, there are days when getting through hygiene details and meals and some communication on this blog take all my energy. So, while I am still praying and will be, I need you to pray in my stead. I know you have been, and my gratitude just continues to grow.
I really believe that God will hear us, and I will begin to respond to this current regimen. In fact, I am feeling better or as good tonight as I have at any point during this week. I believe God has already started making a difference through today's treatment, because of your bold requests on my behalf.
My brother reminded me today that God doesn't care about cure rate percentages. A dear friend reminded me that "really ugly cancer + infinite, relentlessly loving God = big miracle." They're both correct, of course.
There are many fun and positive things to share today, as well, but even though I feel better, my mind is tired and needs rest. I'll write about the good stuff tomorrow, God willing.
I love you all, but more importantly, Jesus Christ, the Creator and Savior of the world loves you. How 'bout that?
"And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God." -Ephesians 3:17-19
Thursday, June 5, 2008
God-given names
The skinny:
1) Next oncology appointment and chemotherapy treatment tomorrow at 12:15 p.m.
2) Still not talking, but hoping this will change after a couple more chemo infusions.
3) Pain level still intense. Mostly controlled with medication, but remains a significant source of stress - your prayers are greatly appreciated! Hoping a couple more chemo infusions will work wonders here as well.
4) Significant sleep again last night!
5) Continually grateful for all the love shown by family, friends and strangers during the biggest challenge of my life.
Not so skinny ...
Have you noticed how it seems almost trendy to denounce television? I know you've experienced it - at work, at a party, at dinner with friends. Some guy begins talking about his favorite show and others chime in quickly. Before you know it, the room is a flurry of excitement over what just happened on last night's it show. Inevitably, though, there's always one who speaks up without being asked and announces, "I don't really watch television." Somehow, his tone suggests that by shunning television he is not only guarding his mind, but also waving a banner against poverty, war, and environmental degradation. I'm not sure how television makes all that possible, but you know the tone of which I speak. You've heard it.
Well, I'm all for protecting the mind from the "vast wasteland," but am here to tell you that I don't intend to do it while I'm couped up at home with cancer. Right now, I am very thankful for television. It is so hard to shut off your brain when going through something like this, but television makes it possible for at least brief moments here and there. In my second week of this homebound experience, I sense an increased savvy developing where my viewing schedule is concerned. I have rediscovered my love of the episodic western. My favorites - Big Valley and Gunsmoke. Encore Western brings me Big Valley at 5:00 p.m. every evening (did I just refer to 5:00 p.m. as evening?!). I was excited when I remembered this yesterday before 5:00 p.m. had passed. This morning, I have done some research and discovered that Gunsmoke is available on TV Land at 2:00 p.m. daily. Most excellent news. Even with cancer, Festus will be funny, and Ms. Kitty always knows what to say.
Of course, Encore Western is also a good place to find film classics. Last night, I watched Dances With Wolves, which brings me to the meat of this post. There's a part where Kevin Costner's character wonders if his given name ever really meant anything. Of course, in Native American culture and many others throughout history, there is deep meaning in a name. I think we miss out on the power of that in our culture. For instance, let's say your parents gave you a name that meant mighty warrior. Don't you think it would make you feel a bit like a mighty warrior? The honor in the name might inspire you to live a life worthy of the moniker.
Do you ever wonder, like Costner's character, what your name means? I'm not talking about the canned meaning listed on the card in the souvenir shop. I'm talking about what your name really means. Most of us were just given a name because the sound of it pleased our parents. What if real meaning is ascribed to our names by the way we live our lives - in our relationship with God, our love for others, in our response to adversity, our readiness to give thanks? If this is true, then we are living meaning into our names every day. I wonder what people think when they hear the name Pat Daniel Smith? What do they think when they hear your name?
I believe God has a name in mind for each of us. May we live lives worthy of those God-given names.
"You will be called by a new name that the mouth of the Lord will bestow." -Isaiah 62:2
1) Next oncology appointment and chemotherapy treatment tomorrow at 12:15 p.m.
2) Still not talking, but hoping this will change after a couple more chemo infusions.
3) Pain level still intense. Mostly controlled with medication, but remains a significant source of stress - your prayers are greatly appreciated! Hoping a couple more chemo infusions will work wonders here as well.
4) Significant sleep again last night!
5) Continually grateful for all the love shown by family, friends and strangers during the biggest challenge of my life.
Not so skinny ...
Have you noticed how it seems almost trendy to denounce television? I know you've experienced it - at work, at a party, at dinner with friends. Some guy begins talking about his favorite show and others chime in quickly. Before you know it, the room is a flurry of excitement over what just happened on last night's it show. Inevitably, though, there's always one who speaks up without being asked and announces, "I don't really watch television." Somehow, his tone suggests that by shunning television he is not only guarding his mind, but also waving a banner against poverty, war, and environmental degradation. I'm not sure how television makes all that possible, but you know the tone of which I speak. You've heard it.
Well, I'm all for protecting the mind from the "vast wasteland," but am here to tell you that I don't intend to do it while I'm couped up at home with cancer. Right now, I am very thankful for television. It is so hard to shut off your brain when going through something like this, but television makes it possible for at least brief moments here and there. In my second week of this homebound experience, I sense an increased savvy developing where my viewing schedule is concerned. I have rediscovered my love of the episodic western. My favorites - Big Valley and Gunsmoke. Encore Western brings me Big Valley at 5:00 p.m. every evening (did I just refer to 5:00 p.m. as evening?!). I was excited when I remembered this yesterday before 5:00 p.m. had passed. This morning, I have done some research and discovered that Gunsmoke is available on TV Land at 2:00 p.m. daily. Most excellent news. Even with cancer, Festus will be funny, and Ms. Kitty always knows what to say.
Of course, Encore Western is also a good place to find film classics. Last night, I watched Dances With Wolves, which brings me to the meat of this post. There's a part where Kevin Costner's character wonders if his given name ever really meant anything. Of course, in Native American culture and many others throughout history, there is deep meaning in a name. I think we miss out on the power of that in our culture. For instance, let's say your parents gave you a name that meant mighty warrior. Don't you think it would make you feel a bit like a mighty warrior? The honor in the name might inspire you to live a life worthy of the moniker.
Do you ever wonder, like Costner's character, what your name means? I'm not talking about the canned meaning listed on the card in the souvenir shop. I'm talking about what your name really means. Most of us were just given a name because the sound of it pleased our parents. What if real meaning is ascribed to our names by the way we live our lives - in our relationship with God, our love for others, in our response to adversity, our readiness to give thanks? If this is true, then we are living meaning into our names every day. I wonder what people think when they hear the name Pat Daniel Smith? What do they think when they hear your name?
I believe God has a name in mind for each of us. May we live lives worthy of those God-given names.
"You will be called by a new name that the mouth of the Lord will bestow." -Isaiah 62:2
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Life happens in the little things
The lowdown:
1) I feel like an olympic athlete today compared to how I felt on Sunday - you know, in one of the less physical events, like curling or something.
2) Beverly, one of my wonderful nurses, thinks my pain medication might have been responsible for the nausea and vomiting more than the chemo regimen. We are going to do some adjusting to cover both possibilities so that hopefully it won't happen again.
3) I was able to eat quite a bit more yesterday afternoon and evening and have already had substantial nourishment today, as well.
4) I even went for a walk yesterday evening.
5) My PET scan revealed no surprises where the tongue and neck are concerned. It did show a 1.2 cm lymph node in the lungs that might or might not be cancerous. If it is smaller on my next scan, it will be considered cancerous. If it is the same size, it will be considered insignificant. Even if it were known to be cancerous now, it would not alter my treatment plan. The abdomen and pelvis were clear.
6) Still not talking due to the pain, but some of you might consider that a positive.
On to more important matters ...
*** Before reading this section, please understand that I do not think I am going to die - just trying to make a point!
People with life-threatening illnesses are so annoying, aren't they? I mean, just because there is a chance they could die, they all of sudden think they know everything about how everyone else should live! What a drag. Of course, they aren't the only ones preaching. Even people who aren't dying now and have never done so are telling us how we should live. Everywhere we turn - young, old, sick or well - someone is telling us to live like we're dying.
What does that mean exactly? Just what does it look like to live like you're dying? Does it really mean "Rocky Mountain climbing and skydiving?" (I like the song, too - just bear with me.) Does it mean finally going on that big trip you've always dreamed of, but thought you couldn't afford? Does it mean bungee jumping? Does it mean quitting your job and starting that business of your own? Does living like you're dying just mean doing big crazy things that you probably wouldn't do if you were going to go on living? Perhaps that is part of what it means, but I would say it's only a very small part.
(This is the part where the person with the life-threatening illness steps up to the podium pontificating till heart's content, and his audience, though probably annoyed, politely listens because there is a chance he could die and that somehow qualifies him as an instant sage.)
Think about your life. Does it really happen in the big things? I mean, how many moments are taken up by big, spectacular events? Not that many, right? Right. That's because life isn't about the big things. Life happens in the little things. That brings us back to our question. What does it mean to live like you're dying? I think it means savoring the little things. Little things like ...
waking up warm, O.J. and toast, making someone laugh, laughing at yourself, driving to work, getting home safely, talking to someone who really listens, listening to someone who really needs to talk, going for a run, napping when it rains, taking a hot shower, listening to your favorite song, ice cream cones ...
the list could go on forever, but I'll stop there. Some of my more jaded friends are way past nauseated by now. Hear me out, though. Lists of little things like these create the real substance of our lives. Real life isn't found in just-before-death adventures. Real life is found in real life. So, if we are going to live like we're dying, we need to learn to savor the little things that make our real lives so sweet.
You might be thinking I have a point, but you're probably also thinking that no one can maintain such a grounded perspective all the time. Would it hurt to try?
"Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ." -Ephesians 5:19-20
1) I feel like an olympic athlete today compared to how I felt on Sunday - you know, in one of the less physical events, like curling or something.
2) Beverly, one of my wonderful nurses, thinks my pain medication might have been responsible for the nausea and vomiting more than the chemo regimen. We are going to do some adjusting to cover both possibilities so that hopefully it won't happen again.
3) I was able to eat quite a bit more yesterday afternoon and evening and have already had substantial nourishment today, as well.
4) I even went for a walk yesterday evening.
5) My PET scan revealed no surprises where the tongue and neck are concerned. It did show a 1.2 cm lymph node in the lungs that might or might not be cancerous. If it is smaller on my next scan, it will be considered cancerous. If it is the same size, it will be considered insignificant. Even if it were known to be cancerous now, it would not alter my treatment plan. The abdomen and pelvis were clear.
6) Still not talking due to the pain, but some of you might consider that a positive.
On to more important matters ...
*** Before reading this section, please understand that I do not think I am going to die - just trying to make a point!
People with life-threatening illnesses are so annoying, aren't they? I mean, just because there is a chance they could die, they all of sudden think they know everything about how everyone else should live! What a drag. Of course, they aren't the only ones preaching. Even people who aren't dying now and have never done so are telling us how we should live. Everywhere we turn - young, old, sick or well - someone is telling us to live like we're dying.
What does that mean exactly? Just what does it look like to live like you're dying? Does it really mean "Rocky Mountain climbing and skydiving?" (I like the song, too - just bear with me.) Does it mean finally going on that big trip you've always dreamed of, but thought you couldn't afford? Does it mean bungee jumping? Does it mean quitting your job and starting that business of your own? Does living like you're dying just mean doing big crazy things that you probably wouldn't do if you were going to go on living? Perhaps that is part of what it means, but I would say it's only a very small part.
(This is the part where the person with the life-threatening illness steps up to the podium pontificating till heart's content, and his audience, though probably annoyed, politely listens because there is a chance he could die and that somehow qualifies him as an instant sage.)
Think about your life. Does it really happen in the big things? I mean, how many moments are taken up by big, spectacular events? Not that many, right? Right. That's because life isn't about the big things. Life happens in the little things. That brings us back to our question. What does it mean to live like you're dying? I think it means savoring the little things. Little things like ...
waking up warm, O.J. and toast, making someone laugh, laughing at yourself, driving to work, getting home safely, talking to someone who really listens, listening to someone who really needs to talk, going for a run, napping when it rains, taking a hot shower, listening to your favorite song, ice cream cones ...
the list could go on forever, but I'll stop there. Some of my more jaded friends are way past nauseated by now. Hear me out, though. Lists of little things like these create the real substance of our lives. Real life isn't found in just-before-death adventures. Real life is found in real life. So, if we are going to live like we're dying, we need to learn to savor the little things that make our real lives so sweet.
You might be thinking I have a point, but you're probably also thinking that no one can maintain such a grounded perspective all the time. Would it hurt to try?
"Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ." -Ephesians 5:19-20
Monday, June 2, 2008
Beautiful timing
Saturday night was very difficult in the sleep department. Intense pain woke me frequently, and it seemed impossible to get relief. Sunday, after being up only a few short minutes, I was introduced to chemo's gastroinstestinal personality. This was particularly difficult for a few reasons. First, until yesterday morning, I only remember vomiting twice in my entire life, both as a young child. Therefore, it was a new, scary experience for me. Second, that fear was exacerbated by the knowledge that the experience could be chemo-induced and might only be the first of many, many episodes. Finally, with every violent regurgitation, the pain in my tongue increased tremendously.
This set Sunday off to the creeping start that it would never quite overcome. The combination of nausea and pain medication without significant nutrition left me groggy most of the day. Eventually, I managed to eat some Jello, but that was as substantial as it would get. Thank the Father, I did find a position that I can rest in without getting choked, which allowed me to get about 6 hours of broken, but quality sleep last night. Today is going better. The nausea is somewhat improved. I have eaten some soup already, and I understand a popsicle is on its way shortly.
I will try to share more later, but for now I just wanted to get the details of these last couple of days posted. I am way too sleepy to wax spiritual or philosophical right now - maybe tonight.
Until then, know that I am so grateful for all of you. One thought that keeps returning to me is how desperate it would be to have to suffer this alone. I cannot imagine being without you. Keep your comments on the blog, your messages to family, your voicemails and your emails coming. They mean so much more than I will ever be able to articulate, and they come with such beautiful timing.
May our gracious Father bless all of you today as you have blessed me.
This set Sunday off to the creeping start that it would never quite overcome. The combination of nausea and pain medication without significant nutrition left me groggy most of the day. Eventually, I managed to eat some Jello, but that was as substantial as it would get. Thank the Father, I did find a position that I can rest in without getting choked, which allowed me to get about 6 hours of broken, but quality sleep last night. Today is going better. The nausea is somewhat improved. I have eaten some soup already, and I understand a popsicle is on its way shortly.
I will try to share more later, but for now I just wanted to get the details of these last couple of days posted. I am way too sleepy to wax spiritual or philosophical right now - maybe tonight.
Until then, know that I am so grateful for all of you. One thought that keeps returning to me is how desperate it would be to have to suffer this alone. I cannot imagine being without you. Keep your comments on the blog, your messages to family, your voicemails and your emails coming. They mean so much more than I will ever be able to articulate, and they come with such beautiful timing.
May our gracious Father bless all of you today as you have blessed me.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Good plans
Yesterday was quite a day. Many of you may not know what receiving chemotherapy entails and might be curious about the process. My particular treatment regimen consists of two chemotherapy drugs, which were adminstered intravenously. The treatment was given in a small, private patient room by one oncology nurse. My nurse's name was Debra, and she was excellent. Doug, Terrah, Mom and Dad were all permitted to be with me in the room. Before the chemotherapy drugs were started, I was given a cocktail of medications to help prevent allergic reaction to the chemo. A couple of those made me extremely drowsy, so I was groggy throughout the rest of the process. After those medications were given, each chemo drug was adminstered separately and took about 30 minutes each. The process is really quite painless, and the staff did an incredible job of making me feel comfortable.
In fact, permit me a tangent about the staff for a minute. It seems that in the last couple of days, staff from different parts of this puzzle appear out of nowhere offering just what I need at the time. For instance, on our way into chemo yesterday, we passed Dr. Netterville's nurse, Georgette in the hallway. First of all, I don't think Georgette ever even met me personally (we had talked on the phone), but a few days ago at Netterville's office, she recognized me from a good distance and it was the same story yesterday in the hallway. They do have a picture to help them remember patients, but really who could be expected to remember someone they'd never really met from a picture they might have seen briefly? Anyway, she was so kind in her hopes that my pain subsides quickly and in offering her assistance with anything I need (even though she works in the surgery department and I am in oncology's hands for the next 9 weeks). She wouldn't have even had to speak, but she took the time not only to speak but also to show genuine concern.
Next, we went into the waiting room we thought we were supposed to be in, and one of Dr. Gilbert's nurses, Beverly, appears out of nowhere telling us where to go and that she would be down as soon as possible with my orders for chemo. She and Dr. Gilbert have been so kind and so available. On Wednesday, Dr. Gilbert wasn't even planning on seeing me. She was just going to write orders for my pre-chemo bloodwork and have that drawn, but when she ran into us in the waiting room and she could tell I thought she was going to see me, she took us to a room and answered tons of questions. Beverly, was also running to and fro that day helping with additional requests for information. Meanwhile, there was a waiting room full of people with questions for her, I'm sure.
Later, just before I was set to go into the chemotherapy treatment room - I mean, literally, they had just called my name - Patti McCarver, NP from surgery shows up to encourage me. What you must understand is that her office is nowhere close to the chemo treatment area. I know people who haven't walked that far in 10 years! I really don't even think she was sure of how to get there, but she showed up with perfect timing to add her comforting smile. Making a special trip across campus to comfort someone on day one of chemo is not the job of a head and neck surgery NP - it is Colossians 3:23 in action. Mom and Dad had not met her yet, but had heard about her kindess to me - of course, they were pleased to get a chance to talk with her. I don't know if I've mentioned this in a previous post or not, but Patti has prayed with us on two occasions, and I'm certain she has done some praying on her own time, as well. She is a God-send without question.
I can't leave out Debra, the oncology nurse that I mentioned above. She was just as impressive as everyone else by which we've been served. She was kind, patient, thorough, comforting, and knowledgeable. She will be my nurse for most of the treatments - I was very uplifted by that news.
There is more to be said about other staff members, Drs. Sinard and Netterville (the surgeons) and Dr. Cmelak (radiation oncologist), but I'll save those for future posts.
Randy also stopped by yesterday morning. I was pretty out of it while he was there, but I'm certain he and Doug discussed drive-thru strategies, which gave me some of my best entertainment of the day.
Let me get back to the details of yesterday. The actual infusion of chemo only took one hour, but the total experience was about 4 hours. I expect this to be the case for most treatment days. Each week, before receiving chemo, blood will be drawn to check various markers which indicate whether or not it is safe to receive that week's treatment. The lab results have to be reviewed by Dr. Gilbert and then I can receive treatment.
After the treatment, I felt fine regarding the chemo. I was just extremely drowsy for several hours later. Nausea and vomiting were possible side effects for later in the day, but I never experienced those. I have had some nausea this morning, but nothing major. My pain medications have been changed by oncology, and they are working much better than what I had been taking. This is extremely good news, of course, especially where my sleeping is concerned. For almost a week, I hadn't gotten a good night's rest. At times, the pain medication and fatigue where enough to get me to sleep, but I woke frequently with more intense pain than when I went to bed. Lying flat seemed like it might be making the pain a bit worse, so I had been trying to sleep in the recliner, but that wasn't a very successful strategy either. Yesterday afternoon, with the combination of extreme drowsiness from the pre-chemo infusion and more potent pain medication, I was able to sleep in the bed for about 3 hours solid - such a wonderful blessing! Then, last night, I slept a good five hours without interruption - thank you, Father!
Today, I have an appointment for a PET (positron emission tomography) scan to determine whether or not the cancer has spread to other parts of my body. That wasn't really a great concern before now, since my CT looked so good. In fact, I still think it will be negative, but due to the rapid changes over the last few weeks and my desire to have one done, Dr. Gilbert ordered one. It is scheduled for today at 3:15 pm.
The PET scan brings me to my next topic - cure rates. I'm always hesistant to talk about this, because I don't want any of you to be more upset or worried than you already are. On the other hand, I want you to understand the seriousness of the situation, because I cherish your prayers. I have been told that the cure rate is as low as 40% by Dr. Sinard and up to 80% by Dr. Gilbert. Dr. Gilbert also recognizes that it could be as low as 40%, but states that the cure rate increases dramatically with this treatment method depending on the cause of the cancer. Of course, as I've said before, we will probably never have a definite cause for mine. Therefore, it is impossible to produce a definite cure rate percentage. Cure rates are based on 5 years post treatment. So, if I have no signs of recurrence 5 years from now, I will be considered totally cured. Of course, I will always be considered high risk for developing other cancers.
Make no mistake, I want you to pray for complete cure if it is God's will. We must not fret about cure rates, though. Listen to this from Job 14:1,2, & 5:
1) Man born of woman is of few days and full of trouble. 2) He springs up like a flower and withers away; like a fleeting shadow, he does not endure. 5) Man's days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed.
God has a perfect plan for my number of days - cancer or no cancer, surgery or chemoradiation, promising cure rate or not so promising cure rate. However, he also tells us to come to Him and ask for what we desire. Of course, I desire to live, so I will keep praying for healing and cherishing your prayers for the same. Even still, if God has other plans, they are best for all of us, and we have to remain strong in our trust of His intentions.
Praise Him for always making good plans!
In fact, permit me a tangent about the staff for a minute. It seems that in the last couple of days, staff from different parts of this puzzle appear out of nowhere offering just what I need at the time. For instance, on our way into chemo yesterday, we passed Dr. Netterville's nurse, Georgette in the hallway. First of all, I don't think Georgette ever even met me personally (we had talked on the phone), but a few days ago at Netterville's office, she recognized me from a good distance and it was the same story yesterday in the hallway. They do have a picture to help them remember patients, but really who could be expected to remember someone they'd never really met from a picture they might have seen briefly? Anyway, she was so kind in her hopes that my pain subsides quickly and in offering her assistance with anything I need (even though she works in the surgery department and I am in oncology's hands for the next 9 weeks). She wouldn't have even had to speak, but she took the time not only to speak but also to show genuine concern.
Next, we went into the waiting room we thought we were supposed to be in, and one of Dr. Gilbert's nurses, Beverly, appears out of nowhere telling us where to go and that she would be down as soon as possible with my orders for chemo. She and Dr. Gilbert have been so kind and so available. On Wednesday, Dr. Gilbert wasn't even planning on seeing me. She was just going to write orders for my pre-chemo bloodwork and have that drawn, but when she ran into us in the waiting room and she could tell I thought she was going to see me, she took us to a room and answered tons of questions. Beverly, was also running to and fro that day helping with additional requests for information. Meanwhile, there was a waiting room full of people with questions for her, I'm sure.
Later, just before I was set to go into the chemotherapy treatment room - I mean, literally, they had just called my name - Patti McCarver, NP from surgery shows up to encourage me. What you must understand is that her office is nowhere close to the chemo treatment area. I know people who haven't walked that far in 10 years! I really don't even think she was sure of how to get there, but she showed up with perfect timing to add her comforting smile. Making a special trip across campus to comfort someone on day one of chemo is not the job of a head and neck surgery NP - it is Colossians 3:23 in action. Mom and Dad had not met her yet, but had heard about her kindess to me - of course, they were pleased to get a chance to talk with her. I don't know if I've mentioned this in a previous post or not, but Patti has prayed with us on two occasions, and I'm certain she has done some praying on her own time, as well. She is a God-send without question.
I can't leave out Debra, the oncology nurse that I mentioned above. She was just as impressive as everyone else by which we've been served. She was kind, patient, thorough, comforting, and knowledgeable. She will be my nurse for most of the treatments - I was very uplifted by that news.
There is more to be said about other staff members, Drs. Sinard and Netterville (the surgeons) and Dr. Cmelak (radiation oncologist), but I'll save those for future posts.
Randy also stopped by yesterday morning. I was pretty out of it while he was there, but I'm certain he and Doug discussed drive-thru strategies, which gave me some of my best entertainment of the day.
Let me get back to the details of yesterday. The actual infusion of chemo only took one hour, but the total experience was about 4 hours. I expect this to be the case for most treatment days. Each week, before receiving chemo, blood will be drawn to check various markers which indicate whether or not it is safe to receive that week's treatment. The lab results have to be reviewed by Dr. Gilbert and then I can receive treatment.
After the treatment, I felt fine regarding the chemo. I was just extremely drowsy for several hours later. Nausea and vomiting were possible side effects for later in the day, but I never experienced those. I have had some nausea this morning, but nothing major. My pain medications have been changed by oncology, and they are working much better than what I had been taking. This is extremely good news, of course, especially where my sleeping is concerned. For almost a week, I hadn't gotten a good night's rest. At times, the pain medication and fatigue where enough to get me to sleep, but I woke frequently with more intense pain than when I went to bed. Lying flat seemed like it might be making the pain a bit worse, so I had been trying to sleep in the recliner, but that wasn't a very successful strategy either. Yesterday afternoon, with the combination of extreme drowsiness from the pre-chemo infusion and more potent pain medication, I was able to sleep in the bed for about 3 hours solid - such a wonderful blessing! Then, last night, I slept a good five hours without interruption - thank you, Father!
Today, I have an appointment for a PET (positron emission tomography) scan to determine whether or not the cancer has spread to other parts of my body. That wasn't really a great concern before now, since my CT looked so good. In fact, I still think it will be negative, but due to the rapid changes over the last few weeks and my desire to have one done, Dr. Gilbert ordered one. It is scheduled for today at 3:15 pm.
The PET scan brings me to my next topic - cure rates. I'm always hesistant to talk about this, because I don't want any of you to be more upset or worried than you already are. On the other hand, I want you to understand the seriousness of the situation, because I cherish your prayers. I have been told that the cure rate is as low as 40% by Dr. Sinard and up to 80% by Dr. Gilbert. Dr. Gilbert also recognizes that it could be as low as 40%, but states that the cure rate increases dramatically with this treatment method depending on the cause of the cancer. Of course, as I've said before, we will probably never have a definite cause for mine. Therefore, it is impossible to produce a definite cure rate percentage. Cure rates are based on 5 years post treatment. So, if I have no signs of recurrence 5 years from now, I will be considered totally cured. Of course, I will always be considered high risk for developing other cancers.
Make no mistake, I want you to pray for complete cure if it is God's will. We must not fret about cure rates, though. Listen to this from Job 14:1,2, & 5:
1) Man born of woman is of few days and full of trouble. 2) He springs up like a flower and withers away; like a fleeting shadow, he does not endure. 5) Man's days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed.
God has a perfect plan for my number of days - cancer or no cancer, surgery or chemoradiation, promising cure rate or not so promising cure rate. However, he also tells us to come to Him and ask for what we desire. Of course, I desire to live, so I will keep praying for healing and cherishing your prayers for the same. Even still, if God has other plans, they are best for all of us, and we have to remain strong in our trust of His intentions.
Praise Him for always making good plans!
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Relentless
One of my favorite hymns is called Praise to the Lord, the Almighty. The melody is infectious and the lyrics have a way of lifting low hearts. My favorite phrase in the song asks the hearer to "ponder anew what the Almighty can do." When is the last time you pondered freshly what our mighty Papa can do? No, really - I want you to ask yourself that question. Has it been an hour, a day, a week, a month? Has it been a year? Has it been tens of years? Answer the question honestly. How long has it been? If it has been too long - your heart will tell you - then do it now before you read another word of this post. He deserves the praise it will create in your heart, and the vitality of your faith depends on you doing it frequently.
Now, let me tell you about my day. As you know, I was scheduled to see the surgeon today regarding the changing appearance of my tongue and my continually increasing pain. Up to this point, the surgeons, and everyone involved really, have been adamant that surgery is my best option offering the highest cure rate and the lowest amount of potential side effects. Today, their opinions changed. After additional recent history was given and a quick exam performed, Patti McCarver, N.P. and Dr. Sinard let us know that they believe the cancer is much larger than what was originally estimated by exam and CT. Dr. Sinard believes that the cancer now extends to the middle of my tongue and probably involves the posterior base (back), as well. As a result, surgery is no longer considered first-line therapy, because it would involve taking a much larger portion of my tongue and decrease my quality of life tremendously.
It is my understanding that they do not normally see such rapid progression, but it did not leave them in shock either. It does happen. Perhaps the tumor was larger than my CT on 5/8/08 revealed or it might have just grown rapidly during the weeks since. Either way, Dr. Sinard called it relentless. He then explained that we need to change the treatment plan to begin with 9 weeks of chemotherapy. If I respond well to the chemotherapy (the tumor shrinks considerably), the theory is that additional chemotherapy with concurrent radiation would be successful. If the tumor does not shrink considerably with the initial chemotherapy, then they would have to reevaluate whether surgery or chemoradiation would be the best way to finish the treatment. I was rushed over to the cancer center where blood was drawn, and I was prepared for my first chemotherapy treatment tomorrow morning at 7:30 am.
I'm sure you wonder how I feel about all of this. Today, Becky let me read from Streams in the Desert, a devotional that one of her coworkers gave her recently. It dealt with Jacob's wrestling away of the blessing. It made the point that Jacob didn't really win the blessing by overpowering, but by clinging to - he simply would not let go, holding on until he won. The writer's assertion is that to win the victory we must "... cease our struggling ... give up our own will and throw our arms around our Father's neck in clinging faith." And, that is the answer to how I feel about all of this. I don't need to wrestle with God for a blessing. He already wants to bless me (and you). All I have to do is cling. Clinging isn't easy, but I'm ready and willing to give it my best.
You can start to ask all kinds of "what if" questions. Please don't do that. It will only make you crazy, and it won't change a thing about my health. Like I've said many times, God knew this day would come before he formed me in my mother's womb, and His grace is sufficient for every moment it and all future days contain. I will address one of those questions specifically, though. You might ask yourself, "What if they had done surgery immediately?" There is a good possibility that they still would have found a much larger tumor than expected, which would have resulted in them taking a much larger portion of my tongue than I was expecting. Can you imagine waking up to that news? Don't ask "what if" questions. In life, we only have this moment, so "what if" never gets to play - the past is gone and tomorrow has not been promised.
At this point, I won't speculate a lot about what the future holds or what I will decide if presented with various treatment options. Right now, let's just deal with right now.
There is so much more in my head and heart, but I am also exhausted. I'll try to write again tomorrow. Until then, join me in pondering and clinging.
Now, let me tell you about my day. As you know, I was scheduled to see the surgeon today regarding the changing appearance of my tongue and my continually increasing pain. Up to this point, the surgeons, and everyone involved really, have been adamant that surgery is my best option offering the highest cure rate and the lowest amount of potential side effects. Today, their opinions changed. After additional recent history was given and a quick exam performed, Patti McCarver, N.P. and Dr. Sinard let us know that they believe the cancer is much larger than what was originally estimated by exam and CT. Dr. Sinard believes that the cancer now extends to the middle of my tongue and probably involves the posterior base (back), as well. As a result, surgery is no longer considered first-line therapy, because it would involve taking a much larger portion of my tongue and decrease my quality of life tremendously.
It is my understanding that they do not normally see such rapid progression, but it did not leave them in shock either. It does happen. Perhaps the tumor was larger than my CT on 5/8/08 revealed or it might have just grown rapidly during the weeks since. Either way, Dr. Sinard called it relentless. He then explained that we need to change the treatment plan to begin with 9 weeks of chemotherapy. If I respond well to the chemotherapy (the tumor shrinks considerably), the theory is that additional chemotherapy with concurrent radiation would be successful. If the tumor does not shrink considerably with the initial chemotherapy, then they would have to reevaluate whether surgery or chemoradiation would be the best way to finish the treatment. I was rushed over to the cancer center where blood was drawn, and I was prepared for my first chemotherapy treatment tomorrow morning at 7:30 am.
I'm sure you wonder how I feel about all of this. Today, Becky let me read from Streams in the Desert, a devotional that one of her coworkers gave her recently. It dealt with Jacob's wrestling away of the blessing. It made the point that Jacob didn't really win the blessing by overpowering, but by clinging to - he simply would not let go, holding on until he won. The writer's assertion is that to win the victory we must "... cease our struggling ... give up our own will and throw our arms around our Father's neck in clinging faith." And, that is the answer to how I feel about all of this. I don't need to wrestle with God for a blessing. He already wants to bless me (and you). All I have to do is cling. Clinging isn't easy, but I'm ready and willing to give it my best.
You can start to ask all kinds of "what if" questions. Please don't do that. It will only make you crazy, and it won't change a thing about my health. Like I've said many times, God knew this day would come before he formed me in my mother's womb, and His grace is sufficient for every moment it and all future days contain. I will address one of those questions specifically, though. You might ask yourself, "What if they had done surgery immediately?" There is a good possibility that they still would have found a much larger tumor than expected, which would have resulted in them taking a much larger portion of my tongue than I was expecting. Can you imagine waking up to that news? Don't ask "what if" questions. In life, we only have this moment, so "what if" never gets to play - the past is gone and tomorrow has not been promised.
At this point, I won't speculate a lot about what the future holds or what I will decide if presented with various treatment options. Right now, let's just deal with right now.
There is so much more in my head and heart, but I am also exhausted. I'll try to write again tomorrow. Until then, join me in pondering and clinging.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Smurf me a new tongue
Nitty-gritty: Pain is about the same, but tolerable (praise God!) with medication around the clock. Attempting to sleep is a daily adventure in patience. This morning's puree: Cinnamon Life and milk - not bad (who am I, Little Mikey all of a sudden?). Next appointment still on Wednesday at 10am with Netterville to examine the open surgical wound. Surgery still scheduled for June 10th at 730am.
Room for laughter, even still ...
As mentioned in an earlier post, I'm writing notes or using the computer to communicate. We've all adjusted to this pretty well, but it wasn't exactly a natural transition. When I wrote my first note to Mom, she had already started to write me back when Doug gently reminded her that she could still talk. I would have laughed at her even more than I did if I'd realized what was going on myself. Poor little Emma and Daniel. Bless our hearts.
Terrah and I stumbled upon the last few minutes of a Smurfs episode yesterday. Look! I have cancer, and I'll watch whatever I feel like! Besides, who could blame me for wanting to escape to a land where everything is Smurfy and fluffy little blue creatures sing with glee as they live in perpetual harmony? I wonder how the Smurfs would handle cancer? Naturally, everyone would smurf a hand. Papa would lead a trek to smurf out the best oncologist around. Baker would smurf up some delicious puree. Vanity would smurf a way to resurface my surgical scars. Poet would smurf up clever blog ideas. Handy would probably try to smurf me a new tongue. Right - this could go on forever, and I have digressed in the saddest of ways. My point in venturing into the mushroom village was to share my sweet sister's latest with you. When she heard that Terrah and I had been watching the Smurfs, she quickly began to reminisce about my love for the Smurfs as a young child - she recalled my stuffed Smurf and my Smurf birthday cake and would have gone on, but Terrah interrupted with the question, "Which Smurf was on the cake?" Becky's response? Wait for it ... take a deep breath ... make sure your footing is sure ... if you're diabetic, grab a Lifesaver. Her response? "Well, I'm not sure what its name was, but this one was blue." There aren't enough "bless her hearts" in all the South to cover that one. If anyone is worried about death by cancer, you can relax. Once Becky finds out this made the blog, cancer won't get a chance to kill me.
Room for joy, even still ...
" ... for the joy of the Lord is your strength." -Nehemiah 8:10
Yesterday, at church, our pastor explained this verse in a fresh way. The joy of the Lord is not something we have to worry about going to find or keeping once we find it. In this verse, joy is possessed by the Lord. Joy belongs to the Lord. So, it is His joy, the joy of the Lord, that gives us strength. And, since He never loses His joy, we never lose our strength. Amen.
Room for laughter, even still ...
As mentioned in an earlier post, I'm writing notes or using the computer to communicate. We've all adjusted to this pretty well, but it wasn't exactly a natural transition. When I wrote my first note to Mom, she had already started to write me back when Doug gently reminded her that she could still talk. I would have laughed at her even more than I did if I'd realized what was going on myself. Poor little Emma and Daniel. Bless our hearts.
Terrah and I stumbled upon the last few minutes of a Smurfs episode yesterday. Look! I have cancer, and I'll watch whatever I feel like! Besides, who could blame me for wanting to escape to a land where everything is Smurfy and fluffy little blue creatures sing with glee as they live in perpetual harmony? I wonder how the Smurfs would handle cancer? Naturally, everyone would smurf a hand. Papa would lead a trek to smurf out the best oncologist around. Baker would smurf up some delicious puree. Vanity would smurf a way to resurface my surgical scars. Poet would smurf up clever blog ideas. Handy would probably try to smurf me a new tongue. Right - this could go on forever, and I have digressed in the saddest of ways. My point in venturing into the mushroom village was to share my sweet sister's latest with you. When she heard that Terrah and I had been watching the Smurfs, she quickly began to reminisce about my love for the Smurfs as a young child - she recalled my stuffed Smurf and my Smurf birthday cake and would have gone on, but Terrah interrupted with the question, "Which Smurf was on the cake?" Becky's response? Wait for it ... take a deep breath ... make sure your footing is sure ... if you're diabetic, grab a Lifesaver. Her response? "Well, I'm not sure what its name was, but this one was blue." There aren't enough "bless her hearts" in all the South to cover that one. If anyone is worried about death by cancer, you can relax. Once Becky finds out this made the blog, cancer won't get a chance to kill me.
Room for joy, even still ...
" ... for the joy of the Lord is your strength." -Nehemiah 8:10
Yesterday, at church, our pastor explained this verse in a fresh way. The joy of the Lord is not something we have to worry about going to find or keeping once we find it. In this verse, joy is possessed by the Lord. Joy belongs to the Lord. So, it is His joy, the joy of the Lord, that gives us strength. And, since He never loses His joy, we never lose our strength. Amen.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
My janky tongue
Yesterday, the challenges continued. I woke up to realize that there is a bit of necrosis (dead tissue) on the flap of tongue partially broken loose from the original surgical wound. A filleted tongue was plenty noticeable - there was really no need for it to put on a black dress for extra attention.
Don't ever expect a specialist to get excited. Vanderbilt wasn't the least bit impressed by this little development. They assured me that I would be fine to wait until June 10th for the surgery, but did agree to examine me again this coming Wednesday at 10am. They mentioned the possibility of doing some pre-surgery chemotherapy. I'm assuming that would be an attempt to keep it from spreading and maybe to reduce the pain, as well.
All of this is sounding really negative, so let me hurry to the point. When you wake up to find your tongue in two pieces and different colors, you want someone to make you feel special. You know in your head that you aren't special. You realize that there are tons of people, in the Nashville area alone, suffering from cancers way more painful than your own. You know that in the context of all that suffering, yours isn't premier.
You know that with your mind, but your heart can't make room for pragmatism. Your heart wants your pain and stress to be moved to the top of the list. It wants somebody to do something! Vanderbilt couldn't do a lot yesterday, and I understand that. Everyone there has been very good to me, and I trust their judgment and expertise. So, this post isn't intended as a tirade on Vandy - please don't read it that way. It is simply an expression of my real feelings yesterday - pain, frustration, and some fear. The other purpose of this post is to give thanks for the ones who did do something yesterday.
There was ...
Ty, who came in on his day off to look at my janky tongue and tell me everything would be okay.
David, who on the eve of a long anticipated and much deserved family vacation, took time away from his own patients to hear my pain.
Doug, who trashed his plans to provide his usual bodyguard and taxi service, forced me to drink an entire 32 oz. smoothie dubbed The Activator from Smoothie King, and braved the fray at Verizon to get my texting plan increased - I kind of went over last month (tongue cancer would be even more of a drag without text messaging).
Terrah, who can make me smile even when I feel like I've just been freshly paved. She brought me movies and Scrabble (America's favorite word game is appropriate in every situation), but we didn't need them. Some people can make you feel better just by pulling up a chair.
Sweet Emma, who spearheaded the campaign to puree a steak for me. People, I hope you never need to know this, but Outback is almost as good blended as it is whole.
Becky, Jeff, and Dad, who are always there and should never be left out.
Coworkers, who encouraged me even in the midst of their own trials.
Dear friends and family, who continued to check on me. (Smooth and Kit, your special messages came at the perfect time.)
And, all those who did something that I don't even know anything about. Thank you for bringing some of God's light into a really dark day.
If we spent every day in comfort, we would miss out on the balm of his "everlasting arms." -Deuteronomy 33:27
Don't ever expect a specialist to get excited. Vanderbilt wasn't the least bit impressed by this little development. They assured me that I would be fine to wait until June 10th for the surgery, but did agree to examine me again this coming Wednesday at 10am. They mentioned the possibility of doing some pre-surgery chemotherapy. I'm assuming that would be an attempt to keep it from spreading and maybe to reduce the pain, as well.
All of this is sounding really negative, so let me hurry to the point. When you wake up to find your tongue in two pieces and different colors, you want someone to make you feel special. You know in your head that you aren't special. You realize that there are tons of people, in the Nashville area alone, suffering from cancers way more painful than your own. You know that in the context of all that suffering, yours isn't premier.
You know that with your mind, but your heart can't make room for pragmatism. Your heart wants your pain and stress to be moved to the top of the list. It wants somebody to do something! Vanderbilt couldn't do a lot yesterday, and I understand that. Everyone there has been very good to me, and I trust their judgment and expertise. So, this post isn't intended as a tirade on Vandy - please don't read it that way. It is simply an expression of my real feelings yesterday - pain, frustration, and some fear. The other purpose of this post is to give thanks for the ones who did do something yesterday.
There was ...
Ty, who came in on his day off to look at my janky tongue and tell me everything would be okay.
David, who on the eve of a long anticipated and much deserved family vacation, took time away from his own patients to hear my pain.
Doug, who trashed his plans to provide his usual bodyguard and taxi service, forced me to drink an entire 32 oz. smoothie dubbed The Activator from Smoothie King, and braved the fray at Verizon to get my texting plan increased - I kind of went over last month (tongue cancer would be even more of a drag without text messaging).
Terrah, who can make me smile even when I feel like I've just been freshly paved. She brought me movies and Scrabble (America's favorite word game is appropriate in every situation), but we didn't need them. Some people can make you feel better just by pulling up a chair.
Sweet Emma, who spearheaded the campaign to puree a steak for me. People, I hope you never need to know this, but Outback is almost as good blended as it is whole.
Becky, Jeff, and Dad, who are always there and should never be left out.
Coworkers, who encouraged me even in the midst of their own trials.
Dear friends and family, who continued to check on me. (Smooth and Kit, your special messages came at the perfect time.)
And, all those who did something that I don't even know anything about. Thank you for bringing some of God's light into a really dark day.
If we spent every day in comfort, we would miss out on the balm of his "everlasting arms." -Deuteronomy 33:27
Thursday, May 22, 2008
He is strong and able
The last few days have been very difficult. On Sunday, I woke up to more intense pain. Monday morning brought a continuation of that pain and another palpable lymph node. Talking at work was a real challenge, but I made it through the whole day. I didn't even try to go on Tuesday - the rest from talking was wonderful. On Wednesday, I woke to a small amount of blood in my mouth and the eventual realization that my first surgical wound had opened up partially. As mentioned in an earlier post, I had been trying to eat through the pain in preparation for upcoming weight loss. With medication, it was going well - I was eating almost like normal. Apparently, I was a little too ambitious.
That brings me to my decision. I have decided to go with surgery, and it has been scheduled for Tuesday, June 10th at 7:30am. It is expected to last for 10-12 hours. I was almost 100% sure that I wanted to go with surgery anyway, but this latest development seems to lend it even more support. I want this out of my body completely, and I believe the chances of that are increased with surgery. Also, while the surgery will be very hard, it will be over faster. As for my singing and speech, it could be affected with either treatment plan. Therefore, I'm going with the treatment plan that gives me a better chance for life.
With that said, I ask that you continue to pray that my speech and singing will be preserved. I have asked God for this, and I believe He will grant it to me. But, if He chooses otherwise, I trust that His plan is flawless.
Also, please pray for relief from the pain. Unfortunately, the surgery could not be moved up, and it doesn't make a lot of sense to close the wound at this point. Eating and talking are no longer mindless tasks. So, I hope you'll understand if you've made an unreturned phone call.
That brings me to my decision. I have decided to go with surgery, and it has been scheduled for Tuesday, June 10th at 7:30am. It is expected to last for 10-12 hours. I was almost 100% sure that I wanted to go with surgery anyway, but this latest development seems to lend it even more support. I want this out of my body completely, and I believe the chances of that are increased with surgery. Also, while the surgery will be very hard, it will be over faster. As for my singing and speech, it could be affected with either treatment plan. Therefore, I'm going with the treatment plan that gives me a better chance for life.
With that said, I ask that you continue to pray that my speech and singing will be preserved. I have asked God for this, and I believe He will grant it to me. But, if He chooses otherwise, I trust that His plan is flawless.
Also, please pray for relief from the pain. Unfortunately, the surgery could not be moved up, and it doesn't make a lot of sense to close the wound at this point. Eating and talking are no longer mindless tasks. So, I hope you'll understand if you've made an unreturned phone call.
This is where faith has to get real. I can say God is bigger than cancer all day long, but that's just a powerless statement if I fail to trust Him when the pain is overwhelming. I must admit, this is hard, and I am weak. But, He is strong and able. Pray that I'll use His promises to shield me.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
It wants the spotlight
Today marks one month since my diagnosis. A couple of weeks ago, Doug took me to see a movie. About halfway through the film, I suddenly realized that for a few moments, I had forgotten all about having cancer. Of course, as quickly as I made that realization, the bliss of distraction passed. There it was again - staring me right between the eyes while yelling at the top of its lungs. Since that night, I can't remember a moment when it hasn't been present. Cancer isn't content with lurking around behind you. It wants the spotlight. Cancer is a shameless narcissist. It pervades the mind while working feverishly to pervade the body.
Cancer isn't the Great Pervader, though ... it just thinks it is.
The Father spread Himself throughout all my parts - mind, body, and soul - long before He allowed cancer to attack one cell.
This is what He has promised:
"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." -2 Corinthians 12:9
And, my response must be:
"Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." -2 Corinthians 12:9-10
How comforting it is to know that the power of Christ is greater than the power of cancer ... and greater than the power of what you're facing, as well.
Prayer requests: Continue to pray for my friend Bryan. Check out his webpage on my favorite links to learn more. Also, today I learned that a very dear friend's (Maela Tanigawa) brother is fighting for his life, as well. His name is Jonathan, and he has been hospitalized for 7 weeks battling severe pancreatitis with some very serious complications. Please pray for Jonathan, Maela, and the entire family. Thank you.
Cancer isn't the Great Pervader, though ... it just thinks it is.
The Father spread Himself throughout all my parts - mind, body, and soul - long before He allowed cancer to attack one cell.
This is what He has promised:
"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." -2 Corinthians 12:9
And, my response must be:
"Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." -2 Corinthians 12:9-10
How comforting it is to know that the power of Christ is greater than the power of cancer ... and greater than the power of what you're facing, as well.
Prayer requests: Continue to pray for my friend Bryan. Check out his webpage on my favorite links to learn more. Also, today I learned that a very dear friend's (Maela Tanigawa) brother is fighting for his life, as well. His name is Jonathan, and he has been hospitalized for 7 weeks battling severe pancreatitis with some very serious complications. Please pray for Jonathan, Maela, and the entire family. Thank you.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Details from yesterday
Yesterday's visit was with a general oncologist, Dr. Lisa Gilbert. Just like all the others have been, she was very kind and thorough. Again, it is such a blessing to feel assured that you have been placed into capable, caring hands. She agrees with the other physicians that it is best in my case to have surgery. She thinks surgery will enable me to get back to a normal life more quickly with less negative side effects. However, she is willing to administer chemo if I refuse surgery. She is familiar with the work of the University of Chicago and explained that the treatment there would be similar to chemo and radiation done at Vandy, but the doses would be more aggressive. She stated she would be willing to use their protocol if that was my desire, but she would regard it as overtreating.
At this point, I am almost 100% sure that I will choose surgery. Additionally, I probably won't make the trip to Chicago. I don't expect to hear anything new, and they might even recommend surgery there, as well, since my tumor is considered small. Of course, I am concerned with how surgery will affect my speech and singing, but chemotherapy and radiation could affect it, as well. Surgery seems to offer a better chance for cure and less anxiety over whether or not the cancer has been eradicated. Plus, it might not even affect my speech and singing to a degree noticeable by others (I know God can accomplish this if He so desires).
Please continue to pray for me as I make this decision. I am confident God has orchestrated this all for His and my good, and I know He is leading me. Thank you for your prayers and support.
"Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken. My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge. Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge." -Psalm 62:5-8
At this point, I am almost 100% sure that I will choose surgery. Additionally, I probably won't make the trip to Chicago. I don't expect to hear anything new, and they might even recommend surgery there, as well, since my tumor is considered small. Of course, I am concerned with how surgery will affect my speech and singing, but chemotherapy and radiation could affect it, as well. Surgery seems to offer a better chance for cure and less anxiety over whether or not the cancer has been eradicated. Plus, it might not even affect my speech and singing to a degree noticeable by others (I know God can accomplish this if He so desires).
Please continue to pray for me as I make this decision. I am confident God has orchestrated this all for His and my good, and I know He is leading me. Thank you for your prayers and support.
"Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken. My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge. Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge." -Psalm 62:5-8
Sometimes, you just have to laugh at cancer
When I was little, my parents subscribed to Reader's Digest. I think I started reading it before I was 10. That was either an early sign of nerdiness to come or a perfectly normal response to the desperation of only getting semi-clear reception from one television station. Perhaps it was a mix of both. My favorite part of the magazine was Laughter, the Best Medicine. I remember not understanding all of the jokes, but I loved reading the ones I did.
As it turns out, laughter really is good medicine. You see, cancer can make you mad, lonely and confused. It can make you sad, apathetic, and frustrated. It can make you cry - even if you're not much on crying. So, sometimes, you just have to laugh at cancer. Laughter may not kill the cancer cells, but it makes living with their presence a whole lot easier.
Here are some things that are making me laugh these days ...
1) You can't take some people anywhere. I'm not one to name names - Doug and Terrah. Oops! Recently, we were at my consultation with the radiation oncologist. We were sitting in the waiting room when I commented that if my enlarged lymph node was negative, I wouldn't even have to have radiation. At that moment, my sweet little brother blurted out, "I hope they do a little "Zap-Zap" on you anyway!" Of course, I knew he meant radiation would bring more assurance that all the cancer is gone, but had he really just said "Zap-Zap" in a radiation therapy waiting room? After suppressing my laughter, I had to remind him that he was born without an inside voice.
It wouldn't be fair to leave out Terrah, would it? I made the comment that if you looked around the waiting room, it was easy to separate patients from supporters - not due to side effects, but something in the eyes. Then, Terrah, never short on self-deprecating humor and still unsure of her recent haircut (which actually looks really good), declared that those looking our way would whisper, "It's the one with the wig." We had a good laugh.
2. Super-sensitive friends. I was explaining to Brad that if I chose chemotherapy and radiation alone, I would likely have to have a feeding tube placed for the duration of the treatment since I'm so thin. Even with surgery, I'm likely to lose some weight. So, I was telling him how I had been trying to eat everything in sight. That's when he asked, "Should I start taking wagers on how much weight you'll lose?" Another really good laugh. I love my super-sensitive friends.
3. Messin' with Momma. If you know my Mom, you know that she loves to do nice things for people even under normal circumstances. Well, cancer has thrown her into high gear. She's as sweet as they come, but I can't help messing with her. So, when she baked me a fresh blueberry cobbler, I said, "You just made this because I have cancer, right?" Because she does something special almost every day, I get to use that one a lot. She just gives me that "Son, I didn't teach you to act like that" look and we both laugh. It's fun to use on my sister, too. She's a little scarier than Mom, though, so I have to make sure there's a safe distance between us. The look she gives usually says, "Cancer will be the least of your worries when I'm finished with you!" And, we laugh.
4. My Entourage. David joined the usual suspects, Terrah and Doug, at yesterday's consultation. That poor little oncologist hoped she was in the wrong place when she walked in the room to find the Three Stooges of Academia lined up against the wall. They have like 16 degrees between them. I must say, cancer is a lot less scary when you are accompanied by Nashville's favorite internist, Vanderbilt's latest PhD, and your own personal big country sasquatch bodyguard brother (who has the brains to match his brawn). I told the doctor that I'd always wanted an entourage, but I didn't think I'd have to have cancer to get one! Another good laugh. I wonder what they'd charge to keep following me around after the cancer's gone?
Many other things are making me laugh. I'm sure I'll share more of them later. Laughter can be an unconcsious defense mechanism, but it can also be a conscious choice in the face of challenges which seem to leave no room for humor. I think there's always room - even if it's just a little crack.
Indeed, there will be days when laughter is less and pain and crying are more, but today is a day for laughter. Go find something to laugh about.
"Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh." -Luke 6:21
As it turns out, laughter really is good medicine. You see, cancer can make you mad, lonely and confused. It can make you sad, apathetic, and frustrated. It can make you cry - even if you're not much on crying. So, sometimes, you just have to laugh at cancer. Laughter may not kill the cancer cells, but it makes living with their presence a whole lot easier.
Here are some things that are making me laugh these days ...
1) You can't take some people anywhere. I'm not one to name names - Doug and Terrah. Oops! Recently, we were at my consultation with the radiation oncologist. We were sitting in the waiting room when I commented that if my enlarged lymph node was negative, I wouldn't even have to have radiation. At that moment, my sweet little brother blurted out, "I hope they do a little "Zap-Zap" on you anyway!" Of course, I knew he meant radiation would bring more assurance that all the cancer is gone, but had he really just said "Zap-Zap" in a radiation therapy waiting room? After suppressing my laughter, I had to remind him that he was born without an inside voice.
It wouldn't be fair to leave out Terrah, would it? I made the comment that if you looked around the waiting room, it was easy to separate patients from supporters - not due to side effects, but something in the eyes. Then, Terrah, never short on self-deprecating humor and still unsure of her recent haircut (which actually looks really good), declared that those looking our way would whisper, "It's the one with the wig." We had a good laugh.
2. Super-sensitive friends. I was explaining to Brad that if I chose chemotherapy and radiation alone, I would likely have to have a feeding tube placed for the duration of the treatment since I'm so thin. Even with surgery, I'm likely to lose some weight. So, I was telling him how I had been trying to eat everything in sight. That's when he asked, "Should I start taking wagers on how much weight you'll lose?" Another really good laugh. I love my super-sensitive friends.
3. Messin' with Momma. If you know my Mom, you know that she loves to do nice things for people even under normal circumstances. Well, cancer has thrown her into high gear. She's as sweet as they come, but I can't help messing with her. So, when she baked me a fresh blueberry cobbler, I said, "You just made this because I have cancer, right?" Because she does something special almost every day, I get to use that one a lot. She just gives me that "Son, I didn't teach you to act like that" look and we both laugh. It's fun to use on my sister, too. She's a little scarier than Mom, though, so I have to make sure there's a safe distance between us. The look she gives usually says, "Cancer will be the least of your worries when I'm finished with you!" And, we laugh.
4. My Entourage. David joined the usual suspects, Terrah and Doug, at yesterday's consultation. That poor little oncologist hoped she was in the wrong place when she walked in the room to find the Three Stooges of Academia lined up against the wall. They have like 16 degrees between them. I must say, cancer is a lot less scary when you are accompanied by Nashville's favorite internist, Vanderbilt's latest PhD, and your own personal big country sasquatch bodyguard brother (who has the brains to match his brawn). I told the doctor that I'd always wanted an entourage, but I didn't think I'd have to have cancer to get one! Another good laugh. I wonder what they'd charge to keep following me around after the cancer's gone?
Many other things are making me laugh. I'm sure I'll share more of them later. Laughter can be an unconcsious defense mechanism, but it can also be a conscious choice in the face of challenges which seem to leave no room for humor. I think there's always room - even if it's just a little crack.
Indeed, there will be days when laughter is less and pain and crying are more, but today is a day for laughter. Go find something to laugh about.
"Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh." -Luke 6:21
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Defaming the Israelites
When you read the Old Testament, do the Israelites wear you out? If you're like me, you've thought that more than once while cruising through the Pentateuch (except Leviticus on the cruising part - no one has ever cruised through Leviticus). I mean, I just get frustrated with how they're so painfully slow to catch on. Talk about your vicious cycles. They experience hardship ... they whine a lot ... God delivers them. They experience more hardship ... they whine a little louder ... God still delivers them. Even more hardship ... they whine even louder than before ... God delivers them yet again.
Somehow, though God repeatedly rescues them in exceptionally miraculous ways, they go on stumbling around in oblivion. I mean, wouldn't you expect that if you'd escaped 400 years of captivity through a parted sea you'd remember it for a few days? Me too! But, not these people. They get out in that desert and what do they do? Forget that a sea was parted in their honor and start crying about food. They go so far as to declare they would've rather died stuffed full of meat in Egypt than hungry in the desert. You'd think at this point that God would just turn the desert into a sea and drown them all. Instead, he shows mercy and rains down food from Heaven. You think surely they'll realize now that God always provides. Then, you turn the page, and they're wailing about how their kids and cattle would prefer all you can drink in Egypt over death by thirst in the desert. You find yourself thinking, "They've done it now. He really is gonna drown 'em all!" Instead, he turns a rock into a faucet running with water perfect in every way. At last, you think this is the miracle that will make it impossible for them to forget God's power to save. Not so much. They forget again and again and again, and the cycle just continues. And, Almighty God, rather than giving up on them, repays their faithlessness with mercy and grace.
They just make you wanna scream, don't they? Then, suddenly you get it. You're exactly like them. We're exactly like them, aren't we? Trials come ... we forget God's power ... He delivers anyway. Next trial ... our memory fails us again ... God still shows up. Truth is, we have no business defaming the Israelites when we suffer from spiritual amnesia ourselves. Sometimes, it's easy to get so overwhelmed by the details that we forget how many times God has saved us from them.
In my case, He's bigger than cancer, bigger than surgery, bigger than radiation, bigger than feared speech problems, bigger than a feared inability to sing, bigger than feeding tubes, bigger than tracheostomies ... bigger than it all. He's not just bigger than my details, though. He's so big that He can be bigger than all of our details at the same time. The details of your life are no match for Him either.
"The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still." -Exodus 14:14
Next appointment: Friday at 2pm with Dr. Lisa Gilbert, a general oncologist. I haven't decided on a treatment course yet. This will be my last specialist meeting at Vanderbilt. After this appointment, I will decide whether or not I am going to pursue the University of Chicago option further or cancel that appointment and schedule surgery here. Thanks for joining me in praying for healing, God's guidance, and God's glorification through it all.
Somehow, though God repeatedly rescues them in exceptionally miraculous ways, they go on stumbling around in oblivion. I mean, wouldn't you expect that if you'd escaped 400 years of captivity through a parted sea you'd remember it for a few days? Me too! But, not these people. They get out in that desert and what do they do? Forget that a sea was parted in their honor and start crying about food. They go so far as to declare they would've rather died stuffed full of meat in Egypt than hungry in the desert. You'd think at this point that God would just turn the desert into a sea and drown them all. Instead, he shows mercy and rains down food from Heaven. You think surely they'll realize now that God always provides. Then, you turn the page, and they're wailing about how their kids and cattle would prefer all you can drink in Egypt over death by thirst in the desert. You find yourself thinking, "They've done it now. He really is gonna drown 'em all!" Instead, he turns a rock into a faucet running with water perfect in every way. At last, you think this is the miracle that will make it impossible for them to forget God's power to save. Not so much. They forget again and again and again, and the cycle just continues. And, Almighty God, rather than giving up on them, repays their faithlessness with mercy and grace.
They just make you wanna scream, don't they? Then, suddenly you get it. You're exactly like them. We're exactly like them, aren't we? Trials come ... we forget God's power ... He delivers anyway. Next trial ... our memory fails us again ... God still shows up. Truth is, we have no business defaming the Israelites when we suffer from spiritual amnesia ourselves. Sometimes, it's easy to get so overwhelmed by the details that we forget how many times God has saved us from them.
In my case, He's bigger than cancer, bigger than surgery, bigger than radiation, bigger than feared speech problems, bigger than a feared inability to sing, bigger than feeding tubes, bigger than tracheostomies ... bigger than it all. He's not just bigger than my details, though. He's so big that He can be bigger than all of our details at the same time. The details of your life are no match for Him either.
"The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still." -Exodus 14:14
Next appointment: Friday at 2pm with Dr. Lisa Gilbert, a general oncologist. I haven't decided on a treatment course yet. This will be my last specialist meeting at Vanderbilt. After this appointment, I will decide whether or not I am going to pursue the University of Chicago option further or cancel that appointment and schedule surgery here. Thanks for joining me in praying for healing, God's guidance, and God's glorification through it all.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Troughs of ice cream
Details first:
The tumor board met this morning and, as expected, recommended surgery as first line therapy. For oral cancers like mine where it is presumed that swallowing and speech function can be preserved, surgery is usually chosen over chemoradiation because cure rates are higher and to avoid the long term effects of the latter option. While my swallowing and speech will likely be impacted to some extent, it is not expected to be at the possible life-changing degree of chemoradiation. Of course, my speech could be drastically altered, but there is a lot of hope that it will not be. On the other hand, if I choose the chemoradation route, I will almost certainly have excessive dry mouth for the rest of my life. Most importanly to the board, though, is that there is more data supporting surgery than chemoradiation in cases like mine.
I met with a radiation oncologist, Dr. Cmelak, who reiterated the board's opinion. He, like all the others, indicated that he would choose surgery if he were sitting in my chair. He did encourage me to speak with the folks at the University of Chicago if I so desired before making my final decision. He ensured me that they are the best at treating with chemoradiation first line, and they would indeed have an ongoing study that meets my needs. However, he stated that he would want to know that the cancer had been cut away cleanly if it were him. Surgery makes that more possible than chemoradiation - of course, neither one is 100%. Dr. Cmelak and his resident, Dr. Yang, were both wonderful as all the others have been.
Some great news: My CT from Friday revealed that the tumor is no larger than originally expected, there is no bone/jaw involvement, and there is only one suspicious lymph node. (Thank God for such great news!) While the board believes this node to be cancerous, they cannot say definitively until it has been removed and viewed microscopically. Keep praying about this. If the node is clear, I might not have to have any radiation therapy post surgery (if I choose that route). If cancerous, I would definitely have radiation about 3-6 weeks post surgery (however, it would be at a much lower dose than in the chemoradiation alone option and only involve my neck).
Next steps:
I have an appointment with a general oncologist on Friday at 2pm. My appointment at the University of Chicago is on May 27th (if I choose to keep it). Ideally, I need to make a decision as soon as possible. If surgery is chosen, they would like to schedule it right away. Please join me in asking God to guide my decision-making process.
One final note: No Rock 'n Roll Marathon this year - Dr. Netterville says it would just be too hard on the body right before surgery - no big surprise there. Brad was really excited that he could slack on his training and starting eating big troughs, I mean bowls, of ice cream every night. I guess we'll just have to run it next year. :)
One of my aunts reminded me today that God truly is my physician - we musn't forget that.
"He delivered me from all my fears." -Psalm 34:4
The tumor board met this morning and, as expected, recommended surgery as first line therapy. For oral cancers like mine where it is presumed that swallowing and speech function can be preserved, surgery is usually chosen over chemoradiation because cure rates are higher and to avoid the long term effects of the latter option. While my swallowing and speech will likely be impacted to some extent, it is not expected to be at the possible life-changing degree of chemoradiation. Of course, my speech could be drastically altered, but there is a lot of hope that it will not be. On the other hand, if I choose the chemoradation route, I will almost certainly have excessive dry mouth for the rest of my life. Most importanly to the board, though, is that there is more data supporting surgery than chemoradiation in cases like mine.
I met with a radiation oncologist, Dr. Cmelak, who reiterated the board's opinion. He, like all the others, indicated that he would choose surgery if he were sitting in my chair. He did encourage me to speak with the folks at the University of Chicago if I so desired before making my final decision. He ensured me that they are the best at treating with chemoradiation first line, and they would indeed have an ongoing study that meets my needs. However, he stated that he would want to know that the cancer had been cut away cleanly if it were him. Surgery makes that more possible than chemoradiation - of course, neither one is 100%. Dr. Cmelak and his resident, Dr. Yang, were both wonderful as all the others have been.
Some great news: My CT from Friday revealed that the tumor is no larger than originally expected, there is no bone/jaw involvement, and there is only one suspicious lymph node. (Thank God for such great news!) While the board believes this node to be cancerous, they cannot say definitively until it has been removed and viewed microscopically. Keep praying about this. If the node is clear, I might not have to have any radiation therapy post surgery (if I choose that route). If cancerous, I would definitely have radiation about 3-6 weeks post surgery (however, it would be at a much lower dose than in the chemoradiation alone option and only involve my neck).
Next steps:
I have an appointment with a general oncologist on Friday at 2pm. My appointment at the University of Chicago is on May 27th (if I choose to keep it). Ideally, I need to make a decision as soon as possible. If surgery is chosen, they would like to schedule it right away. Please join me in asking God to guide my decision-making process.
One final note: No Rock 'n Roll Marathon this year - Dr. Netterville says it would just be too hard on the body right before surgery - no big surprise there. Brad was really excited that he could slack on his training and starting eating big troughs, I mean bowls, of ice cream every night. I guess we'll just have to run it next year. :)
One of my aunts reminded me today that God truly is my physician - we musn't forget that.
"He delivered me from all my fears." -Psalm 34:4
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Moments
Time isn't grouped in days anymore. I am much more aware of moments. Some of those moments find me in high places warmly blanketed by the prayers of faithful family and friends. Other moments find me in sad disbelief as the majority of my body disagrees with the test results. Some moments find me thankful for evidence of God's movement before the most dramatic challenges have even begun. Other moments find me terrified of the unknown.
But, if I truly believe Him, I can't wallow in fear of the unknown. All of my unknowns have been known by Him since long before I was even born. He has not been caught off guard. He is ready, and He is more than able. A friend shared this verse earlier today: "Do not be terrified, do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." -Joshua 1:9
Indeed, He is ... and forevermore will be.
But, if I truly believe Him, I can't wallow in fear of the unknown. All of my unknowns have been known by Him since long before I was even born. He has not been caught off guard. He is ready, and He is more than able. A friend shared this verse earlier today: "Do not be terrified, do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." -Joshua 1:9
Indeed, He is ... and forevermore will be.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Bad Day, Part Two
Yesterday, it was hard to be positive. It just hit me that I REALLY have cancer, and there are two options: lie down and cry all day (not an option for me) or get on with trusting God to guide the decisions and steps of everyone involved (I'll take this one).
It wasn't long after the appointment that positive thoughts began to compete for space with the negative ones.
1. Terrah's graduation was yesterday - she is now officially, Dr. Terrah Foster. Very proud.
2. I have health insurance!
3. I am surrounded by people who truly love me every day of my life.
4. I have internet access (just kidding - kind of. I mean, what if we had to go back to pre-internet days! That's not funny.)
5. No one on earth can understand exactly how I feel, but I have a Father who can. There's a great Issac's song that says, "When I don't understand, I have a Father who can."
There are also thoughts of those whose suffering is far greater than my own.
1. Somewhere today there is a young man about my age who has been given news similar to mine, but he doesn't have health insurance. Imagine the increased stress!
2. That same young man doesn't have family members who would gladly take his place or friends who sacrifice their own feelings in the hopes of comforting him.
3. There are those who live in fear every day in Darfur, Afhganistan, Iraq and so many other places.
4. There are precious children sold into slavery every day.
5. Senseless disease and starvation still dominate an enormous amount of lives.
Somehow, the positive and the negative coexist in the same story. We can't understand the negative parts of the story, but we have a Father who can. Corrie Ten Boom tells the story of when she was about 8-years-old, and she asked her father about the meaning of 'sex.' She had seen the word on a sign or something. Casper Ten Boom answered, "Some knowledge is too heavy for children. When you are older and stronger you can bear it. For now you must trust me to carry it for you."
I will have to trust the Father to carry this for me.
You will have to trust Him with the load that is too heavy for you.
"Our God will fight for us." -Nehemiah 4:20
It wasn't long after the appointment that positive thoughts began to compete for space with the negative ones.
1. Terrah's graduation was yesterday - she is now officially, Dr. Terrah Foster. Very proud.
2. I have health insurance!
3. I am surrounded by people who truly love me every day of my life.
4. I have internet access (just kidding - kind of. I mean, what if we had to go back to pre-internet days! That's not funny.)
5. No one on earth can understand exactly how I feel, but I have a Father who can. There's a great Issac's song that says, "When I don't understand, I have a Father who can."
There are also thoughts of those whose suffering is far greater than my own.
1. Somewhere today there is a young man about my age who has been given news similar to mine, but he doesn't have health insurance. Imagine the increased stress!
2. That same young man doesn't have family members who would gladly take his place or friends who sacrifice their own feelings in the hopes of comforting him.
3. There are those who live in fear every day in Darfur, Afhganistan, Iraq and so many other places.
4. There are precious children sold into slavery every day.
5. Senseless disease and starvation still dominate an enormous amount of lives.
Somehow, the positive and the negative coexist in the same story. We can't understand the negative parts of the story, but we have a Father who can. Corrie Ten Boom tells the story of when she was about 8-years-old, and she asked her father about the meaning of 'sex.' She had seen the word on a sign or something. Casper Ten Boom answered, "Some knowledge is too heavy for children. When you are older and stronger you can bear it. For now you must trust me to carry it for you."
I will have to trust the Father to carry this for me.
You will have to trust Him with the load that is too heavy for you.
"Our God will fight for us." -Nehemiah 4:20
Bad Day, Part One
Yesterday it all became real. I had been scheduled to meet with an oncologist, but that was canceled until after further testing. Instead, I met with another surgeon, Dr. Sinard, who would perform the reconstructive part of the surgery. (Before I get into that, I need to make one correction - I mentioned earlier that I would have a sentinel node dissection, but it would actually be regional and involve a few more nodes - still no major neck disfigurement.) Dr. Sinard wanted to see me to examine my forearm, from which he would take the tissue for transplant into my mouth. He would take a flap of skin from my forearm along with the radial artery (which helps the ulnar artery supply blood to the hand) and a couple of veins. The flap would become the new section of my tongue and the blood vessels would be connected to existing vessels in my neck for blood supply. Then, skin from my leg would be used to reconstruct the forearm.
All that sounds great, doesn't it? They can get all the cancer, and I can live! I should be excited, right? It's just that it's hard to be excited about living when I've never really thought this would kill me. The surgeons are so focused on preserving life that what must be suffered by the patient and the resulting quality of life is not really on their radar. The surgery would take 10-12 hours. I would be in the hospital for several days with a tracheostomy (air supply via tube inserted into the trachea via the neck), because breathing would be compromised for a few days by swelling. I would have a nasogastric feeding tube for a couple of weeks, because swallowing would be impaired and have to be relearned to some extent. Dr. Sinard says it would never feel the same, but I would adapt to the new sensation. Again, my speech and singing might be affected and might not - they just can't say for sure. Right now, it looks as if the tip of my tongue, which controls articulation, is not affected. However, if it does have cancer cells once in surgery, they would have to excise it as well. They estimate that I would be out of work for about a month. And, to top it all off, my tongue would be hairy (what?!), because it's a transplant from the forearm. Terrah said, "No problem, we'll just get that lasered at Elan." :) Laser or not, that's downright mangy.
So, you see, I was never really scared of dying from this, but tracheostomy, feeding tube, and hairy tongue - that's scary, because it's all imminent if I choose surgery. Death is just out there somewhere, but is doesn't cause much fear in the present. It's exactly the opposite for the surgeons. They see possible death and immediately think: Cut cancer out and save young man's life. That's their job. So, to them, feeding tubes aren't a big deal - they're just part of the process, and if you want to live, you just have to get over it. Don't get me wrong, they've been very compassionate, but I can just see the cogs of logic turning in their heads. Finally, if the dissected nodes are positive for cancer cells, I will have radiation, as well. If not, once the surgery is over and I have recovered, I can go on with my new life.
Chemotherapy and radiation without surgery are still an option. These surgeons do not recommend it, because there simply aren't enough people using it as first-line treatment (in cases like mine) to give me a good idea of my life expectancy. The absolute cure rate five years post surgery is about 65%. I do have an appointment at the University of Chicago where they are using chemo and RT as first-line. I'm not sure they would do it in my case, though. That appointment is on May 27th, so I'm not sure I want to wait that long. I am going to ask my surgeons to have a conversation with the physician there about my case and see if there is really a need to make that trip.
Next steps:
-Tumor board meets on Monday to review my CT and discuss my case. They will call me Monday afternoon with their final recommedation.
-I have an appointment on Monday with a radiation oncologist at 10am.
-I need to decide soon on a treatment plan. Vandy is willing to do either.
Things to pray for:
-I continue to have pain in my mouth, which makes it painful to talk and eat. It is unclear if the cancer is irritating nerves or there was nerve agitation in the previous surgery. It didn't hurt when I first got my news, because I was still on prednisone. My mouth used to hurt only when food contacted the lesion - now, it is more constant. It is unclear if this will resolve with surgery or continue. So, obviously, there is stress now talking all day at my job and eating, as well as contemplating whether this pain will persist post surgery (if I choose surgery) while there are many other discomorts.
-That God will guide my decision-making over the next few days and weeks.
Daniel prays a passionate prayer in chapter 9. My favorite part is in verse 18 when he says, "We do not make requests of you because we are righteous, but because of your great mercy."
Indeed, He is merciful. I have not forgotten that.
See Bad Day, Part Two - the story doesn't end here.
All that sounds great, doesn't it? They can get all the cancer, and I can live! I should be excited, right? It's just that it's hard to be excited about living when I've never really thought this would kill me. The surgeons are so focused on preserving life that what must be suffered by the patient and the resulting quality of life is not really on their radar. The surgery would take 10-12 hours. I would be in the hospital for several days with a tracheostomy (air supply via tube inserted into the trachea via the neck), because breathing would be compromised for a few days by swelling. I would have a nasogastric feeding tube for a couple of weeks, because swallowing would be impaired and have to be relearned to some extent. Dr. Sinard says it would never feel the same, but I would adapt to the new sensation. Again, my speech and singing might be affected and might not - they just can't say for sure. Right now, it looks as if the tip of my tongue, which controls articulation, is not affected. However, if it does have cancer cells once in surgery, they would have to excise it as well. They estimate that I would be out of work for about a month. And, to top it all off, my tongue would be hairy (what?!), because it's a transplant from the forearm. Terrah said, "No problem, we'll just get that lasered at Elan." :) Laser or not, that's downright mangy.
So, you see, I was never really scared of dying from this, but tracheostomy, feeding tube, and hairy tongue - that's scary, because it's all imminent if I choose surgery. Death is just out there somewhere, but is doesn't cause much fear in the present. It's exactly the opposite for the surgeons. They see possible death and immediately think: Cut cancer out and save young man's life. That's their job. So, to them, feeding tubes aren't a big deal - they're just part of the process, and if you want to live, you just have to get over it. Don't get me wrong, they've been very compassionate, but I can just see the cogs of logic turning in their heads. Finally, if the dissected nodes are positive for cancer cells, I will have radiation, as well. If not, once the surgery is over and I have recovered, I can go on with my new life.
Chemotherapy and radiation without surgery are still an option. These surgeons do not recommend it, because there simply aren't enough people using it as first-line treatment (in cases like mine) to give me a good idea of my life expectancy. The absolute cure rate five years post surgery is about 65%. I do have an appointment at the University of Chicago where they are using chemo and RT as first-line. I'm not sure they would do it in my case, though. That appointment is on May 27th, so I'm not sure I want to wait that long. I am going to ask my surgeons to have a conversation with the physician there about my case and see if there is really a need to make that trip.
Next steps:
-Tumor board meets on Monday to review my CT and discuss my case. They will call me Monday afternoon with their final recommedation.
-I have an appointment on Monday with a radiation oncologist at 10am.
-I need to decide soon on a treatment plan. Vandy is willing to do either.
Things to pray for:
-I continue to have pain in my mouth, which makes it painful to talk and eat. It is unclear if the cancer is irritating nerves or there was nerve agitation in the previous surgery. It didn't hurt when I first got my news, because I was still on prednisone. My mouth used to hurt only when food contacted the lesion - now, it is more constant. It is unclear if this will resolve with surgery or continue. So, obviously, there is stress now talking all day at my job and eating, as well as contemplating whether this pain will persist post surgery (if I choose surgery) while there are many other discomorts.
-That God will guide my decision-making over the next few days and weeks.
Daniel prays a passionate prayer in chapter 9. My favorite part is in verse 18 when he says, "We do not make requests of you because we are righteous, but because of your great mercy."
Indeed, He is merciful. I have not forgotten that.
See Bad Day, Part Two - the story doesn't end here.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Oncology appointment
Just found out I have an appointment with an oncologist at 4pm today. I'll post the details tonight. Thanks for praying. Have a good day.
Bryan Larson
Don't forget to pray for my friend Bryan - he is truly fighting for his life right now. Check out his story in my links section. Thank you.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
God is my doctor
I had my first appointment with the head and neck surgeon today, Dr. Netterville. A resident, Dr. Sarah (last name escapes me) and a nurse practitioner, Patti McCarver also worked with me. They were all compassionate, articulate, and thorough. I feel so blessed to have such a stellar crew of caregivers.
Unfortunately, I can't offer a complete picture of what lies ahead. Much is yet to be decided. Here are the highlights, though. Dr. Netterville's first impression is that surgery is the best option in my case (I won't go into the reasons for this now, but bottom line is that he thinks it would improve my long-term survival rate). He made the comment that if he were going to have cancer anywhere on his tongue, he would pick the spot where mine is located. I am fortunate that the cancer doesn't involve the back or tip of my tongue, in which case a resection would cause more problems with swallowing and speech. He does anticipate having to take a fairly large section, but does not anticipate causing a severe speech impediment. When asked how it would affect my singing, he simply said he didn't know. If surgery is chosen, I will also have a sentinel lymph node dissection, in which the node/s where the cancer is most likely to travel to first would be removed. If the node/s are positive for cancer, I will have to have radiation. If there is no nodal spread, I will not have to have radiation.
However, Dr. Netterville was quick to point out that he will be presenting my case to the tumor board (a group of oncologists, surgeons, etc.) on Monday, and they will collectively decide what is the most appropriate treatment plan to ensure eradication of the cancer. He stated that if they believe chemotherapy and radiation are the best options, he would defer to their decision. If chemotherapy and radiation are chosen, there will be no surgery involved. I will have a CT scan of my head and neck tomorrow at 1pm to help them determine the best plan for me.
Since I found out that some oral cancers are treated without surgery, I have been hoping my case would qualify for that option. I know it seems strange to want chemotherapy and radiation, but surgery has seemed to be the more overwhelming route to me. Since a fairly large portion of tongue would be resected, I would have to have reconstruction using a skin flap from my forearm. When I think about the recovery time involved, I am very apprehensive. Dr. Netterville seems to think that surgical recovery is less difficult than the effects of chemo and radiation, though.
More daunting than the recovery process is the possibility that my singing might not ever be the same. Of course, to the doctors and probably most of you, it seems trivial to consider singing a higher priority than living. And, I don't really, but I must admit there have been moments where I've wondered if I would want to live if I couldn't sing. That must sound so dramatic and just downright stupid to some of you. But, I've thought it more than once.
Also concerning is my speech. Although Netterville assures me that I would still be able to practice, I wonder what the true impact would be. Many of my patients have a hard time hearing anyway. Hearing loss in patient + speech impediment in provider = very long work days. :)
It's funny how we refer to God as the Great Physician all the time, but the meaning can't seem to permeate our dullness. Terrah and Doug went with me today. After the appointment, Terrah and I were discussing my concerns about surgery when she reminded me that Netterville said he prays for wisdom with each patient. She said she realized that if he is praying for wisdom, God is my doctor. And, if He is my doctor and I require surgery, He will restore my speech, singing and work abilities to the state He desires. That may not look like it looks now, but His plans will not be thwarted (Job 42:2), and they are always good plans. Back to Great Physician ... I use that phrase all the time, but it didn't really come to life for me until Terrah said, "God is your doctor." That struck me with such fresh meaning. God is my doctor! God is my doctor! God is my doctor!
Thank you all so much for praying and please keep doing so. Next week will be really busy as I will likely meet with a couple of oncologists after the tumor board has discussed my case. Then, I imagine decisions will need to be made quickly. Pray for wisdom, pray for my voice, pray for my pain with eating, but most of all ... pray that in the midst of this I will live my life in a manner worthy of the Gospel of Christ and that He will be glorified as He deserves.
"Praise and glory and wisdom and thanks and honor and power and strength be to our God for ever and ever. Amen!" -Revelation 7:12
Unfortunately, I can't offer a complete picture of what lies ahead. Much is yet to be decided. Here are the highlights, though. Dr. Netterville's first impression is that surgery is the best option in my case (I won't go into the reasons for this now, but bottom line is that he thinks it would improve my long-term survival rate). He made the comment that if he were going to have cancer anywhere on his tongue, he would pick the spot where mine is located. I am fortunate that the cancer doesn't involve the back or tip of my tongue, in which case a resection would cause more problems with swallowing and speech. He does anticipate having to take a fairly large section, but does not anticipate causing a severe speech impediment. When asked how it would affect my singing, he simply said he didn't know. If surgery is chosen, I will also have a sentinel lymph node dissection, in which the node/s where the cancer is most likely to travel to first would be removed. If the node/s are positive for cancer, I will have to have radiation. If there is no nodal spread, I will not have to have radiation.
However, Dr. Netterville was quick to point out that he will be presenting my case to the tumor board (a group of oncologists, surgeons, etc.) on Monday, and they will collectively decide what is the most appropriate treatment plan to ensure eradication of the cancer. He stated that if they believe chemotherapy and radiation are the best options, he would defer to their decision. If chemotherapy and radiation are chosen, there will be no surgery involved. I will have a CT scan of my head and neck tomorrow at 1pm to help them determine the best plan for me.
Since I found out that some oral cancers are treated without surgery, I have been hoping my case would qualify for that option. I know it seems strange to want chemotherapy and radiation, but surgery has seemed to be the more overwhelming route to me. Since a fairly large portion of tongue would be resected, I would have to have reconstruction using a skin flap from my forearm. When I think about the recovery time involved, I am very apprehensive. Dr. Netterville seems to think that surgical recovery is less difficult than the effects of chemo and radiation, though.
More daunting than the recovery process is the possibility that my singing might not ever be the same. Of course, to the doctors and probably most of you, it seems trivial to consider singing a higher priority than living. And, I don't really, but I must admit there have been moments where I've wondered if I would want to live if I couldn't sing. That must sound so dramatic and just downright stupid to some of you. But, I've thought it more than once.
Also concerning is my speech. Although Netterville assures me that I would still be able to practice, I wonder what the true impact would be. Many of my patients have a hard time hearing anyway. Hearing loss in patient + speech impediment in provider = very long work days. :)
It's funny how we refer to God as the Great Physician all the time, but the meaning can't seem to permeate our dullness. Terrah and Doug went with me today. After the appointment, Terrah and I were discussing my concerns about surgery when she reminded me that Netterville said he prays for wisdom with each patient. She said she realized that if he is praying for wisdom, God is my doctor. And, if He is my doctor and I require surgery, He will restore my speech, singing and work abilities to the state He desires. That may not look like it looks now, but His plans will not be thwarted (Job 42:2), and they are always good plans. Back to Great Physician ... I use that phrase all the time, but it didn't really come to life for me until Terrah said, "God is your doctor." That struck me with such fresh meaning. God is my doctor! God is my doctor! God is my doctor!
Thank you all so much for praying and please keep doing so. Next week will be really busy as I will likely meet with a couple of oncologists after the tumor board has discussed my case. Then, I imagine decisions will need to be made quickly. Pray for wisdom, pray for my voice, pray for my pain with eating, but most of all ... pray that in the midst of this I will live my life in a manner worthy of the Gospel of Christ and that He will be glorified as He deserves.
"Praise and glory and wisdom and thanks and honor and power and strength be to our God for ever and ever. Amen!" -Revelation 7:12
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Awesome!
I was talking with a friend today who is flustered with herself over using the word 'awesome' too much. She thinks it should only be used to describe God. She's got a good point. Think about it. We sing, "Our God is an awesome God" at church and 15 minutes after service is over, we assign that same label to our Bloomin' Onion at Outback. We've thrown it around so carelessly that it has almost lost its meaning ...
Those jeans are awesome!
This video game is so totally awesome!
Your hair looks awesome today!
Can someone really have awe-inspiring hair? Are jeans really powerful enough to make us gaze in wonder? We've ruined what was once a really good word. Perhaps if 'awesome' were reserved for describing God only, it would get its dignity back.
Have you thought about how awesome God is lately? He is constantly doing awe-inspiring things when we need them most. I almost went to bed tonight without reading my devotion for today. I've been using Grace For The Moment Volume II by Max Lucado. This is an excerpt from today's entry:
No one breathed life into Yahweh. No one sired him. No one gave birth to him. No one caused him. No act brought him forth. And since no act brought him forth, no act can take him out. Does he fear an earthquake? Does he tremble at a tornado? Hardly. Yahweh sleeps through storms and calms the winds with a word. Cancer does not trouble him, and cemeteries do not disturb him. He was here before they came. He'll be here after they are gone. He is uncaused.
Our awesome God knew exactly what I needed to hear tonight. I'm so glad cancer does not trouble Him. Whatever you're facing doesn't trouble him either.
"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail." -Lamentations 3:22
Those jeans are awesome!
This video game is so totally awesome!
Your hair looks awesome today!
Can someone really have awe-inspiring hair? Are jeans really powerful enough to make us gaze in wonder? We've ruined what was once a really good word. Perhaps if 'awesome' were reserved for describing God only, it would get its dignity back.
Have you thought about how awesome God is lately? He is constantly doing awe-inspiring things when we need them most. I almost went to bed tonight without reading my devotion for today. I've been using Grace For The Moment Volume II by Max Lucado. This is an excerpt from today's entry:
No one breathed life into Yahweh. No one sired him. No one gave birth to him. No one caused him. No act brought him forth. And since no act brought him forth, no act can take him out. Does he fear an earthquake? Does he tremble at a tornado? Hardly. Yahweh sleeps through storms and calms the winds with a word. Cancer does not trouble him, and cemeteries do not disturb him. He was here before they came. He'll be here after they are gone. He is uncaused.
Our awesome God knew exactly what I needed to hear tonight. I'm so glad cancer does not trouble Him. Whatever you're facing doesn't trouble him either.
"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail." -Lamentations 3:22
Extra large slice of gratitude
Yesterday, I was walking by the snack bar at Wal-Mart, and it smelled ... perfect. It's amazing what becomes tempting when you suddenly (or gradually) can't have anything you want. I have begun to have more pain in my mouth and neck - not sure if this is due to the recent surgery (probably) or the cancer. Anyway, eating has become more of a challenge. So, when I caught a whiff of all that overly processed goodness (that I wouldn't normally touch with a fireplace poker), I suddenly wanted to eat 6 corn dogs and wash them down with a couple Big Gulps filled to the rim with carbonation. I thought to myself how nice it would be if I could just eat anything I wanted again without thought of the texture, crunch, spice, acidity, or chew-factor. Then, it hit me. I was walking out of that store. I can walk without any pain at all! And, that's not all I can do - I can see and feel and smell and hear and touch and run and jump and think ... but, it has been so long since I've been thankful for being able to do those things specifically. So, the pain in a small part of my body reminded me to be grateful for all the places where I don't have pain or disability. If only I (we) could keep that perspective all the time. Impossible for our small minds, but God loves us just the same.
Make no mistake - I can't wait till I can devour a pizza again, but in the meantime, I'll have to take comfort in knowing ... "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God." -Matthew 4:4
And, when I can devour a pizza, I hope I remember to do it with an extra large slice of gratitude.
Make no mistake - I can't wait till I can devour a pizza again, but in the meantime, I'll have to take comfort in knowing ... "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God." -Matthew 4:4
And, when I can devour a pizza, I hope I remember to do it with an extra large slice of gratitude.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Cancer doesn't care how much you exercise
After my diagnosis, all I could think was, "But, I'm the healthiest person I know!" Then, I had to face reality ...
Number 1: Cancer doesn't care how much you exercise. It doesn't care how many marathons you've run, how many times per week you go to the gym, that you can swim a mile without stopping or that you've climbed a 14,000 foot mountain. Cancer isn't impressed by your fitness level.
Number 2: Cancer doesn't care if you shop at Wild Oats or Trader Joes. It isn't frightened by your Kashi cereal. It isn't disheartened by your Naked Food Juice. It doesn't back down when you wield your organic sword and proclaim loyalty to clean eating. Cancer isn't impressed by your grocery cart.
Bottom line: Cancer doesn't care about me and cancer isn't impressed by me.
After realizing this, your first thought is ... if none of this stuff helps, what's the point? A few days after my diagnosis, I was eating blueberries as my dessert for lunch. Next to me, a coworker was eating a Cracker Barrel biscuit covered with cinammon apples topped off by Smucker's caramel sauce. (I'm not making this up.) I looked at that succulent pile of sludge and thought, "A lot of good these antioxidants have done me - I might as well have some sludge myself." As for exercise, you can't help but think morbid thoughts like, "Why would I spend time trying to build muscle when I'm going to start losing it all anyway when my treatment begins?"
As it turns out, I finished the blueberries and left the sludge alone. I like blueberries. I also like exercising. God tells us our body is a temple. So, as long as I am able, I should make choices befitting a temple. Guess I'll just have to be the healthiest person I know ... with cancer (for now).
Real bottom line: God does care about me (and you) and I am really impressed by Him. "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." -1 Peter 5:7
Number 1: Cancer doesn't care how much you exercise. It doesn't care how many marathons you've run, how many times per week you go to the gym, that you can swim a mile without stopping or that you've climbed a 14,000 foot mountain. Cancer isn't impressed by your fitness level.
Number 2: Cancer doesn't care if you shop at Wild Oats or Trader Joes. It isn't frightened by your Kashi cereal. It isn't disheartened by your Naked Food Juice. It doesn't back down when you wield your organic sword and proclaim loyalty to clean eating. Cancer isn't impressed by your grocery cart.
Bottom line: Cancer doesn't care about me and cancer isn't impressed by me.
After realizing this, your first thought is ... if none of this stuff helps, what's the point? A few days after my diagnosis, I was eating blueberries as my dessert for lunch. Next to me, a coworker was eating a Cracker Barrel biscuit covered with cinammon apples topped off by Smucker's caramel sauce. (I'm not making this up.) I looked at that succulent pile of sludge and thought, "A lot of good these antioxidants have done me - I might as well have some sludge myself." As for exercise, you can't help but think morbid thoughts like, "Why would I spend time trying to build muscle when I'm going to start losing it all anyway when my treatment begins?"
As it turns out, I finished the blueberries and left the sludge alone. I like blueberries. I also like exercising. God tells us our body is a temple. So, as long as I am able, I should make choices befitting a temple. Guess I'll just have to be the healthiest person I know ... with cancer (for now).
Real bottom line: God does care about me (and you) and I am really impressed by Him. "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." -1 Peter 5:7
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Eerily calm
I knew as soon as he walked into the room. He's usually quick to make eye contact and shake hands, but on that day, he greeted me and looked away. My oral surgeon had removed a suspicious lesion from the side of my tongue a week earlier. I love how we describe lesions as "suspicious" - like they have a brain that guides their devious, destructive plan for each day. Seems strange, but fitting, especially for this one that was slowly eating away at my tongue like it was dessert - something to be savored not devoured. Anyway, he asked how I was feeling, and I let him know that my mouth actually felt better than it had in a year. He responded, "I'm glad to hear that, but unfortunately, you have squamous cell cancer."
I don't think I even blinked. I couldn't feel emotion yet. It was like my intuition that I was about to hear something really bad had made me eerily calm. He began explaining what might lie ahead for me concerning further diagnostics and treatment, but I could tell he was uncomfortable. It was obvious that he doesn't hand out cancer diagnoses every day. Isn't it funny how we often end up comforting those who are charged with comforting us? I felt so bad for him. He couldn't stop talking. To be fair, I asked plenty of questions, but he kept talking even after the questions were sufficiently answered. He wanted to be able to do more, to call it a mistake, to close up the wound neatly as surgeons do. Instead, he felt like he was opening a nasty one. I found myself trying to reassure him with, "It's okay ... someone had to do it." But, I have cancer. He can't fix that, and I can't make him feel better about it.
There is One who is able to fix it, though. "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." -Job 13:15
I don't think I even blinked. I couldn't feel emotion yet. It was like my intuition that I was about to hear something really bad had made me eerily calm. He began explaining what might lie ahead for me concerning further diagnostics and treatment, but I could tell he was uncomfortable. It was obvious that he doesn't hand out cancer diagnoses every day. Isn't it funny how we often end up comforting those who are charged with comforting us? I felt so bad for him. He couldn't stop talking. To be fair, I asked plenty of questions, but he kept talking even after the questions were sufficiently answered. He wanted to be able to do more, to call it a mistake, to close up the wound neatly as surgeons do. Instead, he felt like he was opening a nasty one. I found myself trying to reassure him with, "It's okay ... someone had to do it." But, I have cancer. He can't fix that, and I can't make him feel better about it.
There is One who is able to fix it, though. "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." -Job 13:15
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