Update #49 & #50

Forgot to post Update #49 yesterday
Had my blood draw this morning. Just got the results: Tumor markers up above normal. This does not surprise me - although please don't think that that means I didn't cry a bit when hearing my suspicions confirmed - as my left leg has been causing me some discomfort. Meet with the doctor tomorrow morning at 8:45. I'll keep you posted.


Update #50 from today
Wait and See.
No treatment plan change.
Follow-up in 4 weeks.

After you read those words, I bet you're wondering if I, by accident, sent you last month's update instead of this month's. Because it sounds sort of familiar, right? Are you wondering if my doctor isn't doing her job? Are you wondering if I'm sticking my head in the sand? Or, are you smiling because you're thankful that Cue-Ball Kristie (you know, the bald version of this blonde self) doesn't have to been seen quite yet?

I hope by now, you understand that a journey with a cancer diagnosis - at least a Stage 4 cancer diagnosis - is neither a straight-line or a clear 100%-we-absolutely-know kind of a thing. It's not. It's a combination of cold hard researched science and a plethora of still-remaining research questions. It's a combination of qualitative assessments and quantitative tests, of the voice of the patient and the expertise of the doctor, of a drug's past efficacy and a unique person's internal chemistry.

All those things combine and paint a picture that isn't as clear as any of us would like it to be. It's kind of like someone who has taken off her coke-bottle thick glasses from 1998 (yes, some of you are smiling at that because you've seen me wearing such things!) and is trying to paint a detailed color by number picture...while there are some guidelines to follow, those guidelines are fuzzy at best and completing the picture is definitely not going to be within the lines.

(Ha! Not a bad analogy. Just came up with that. Such a sharp cookie I can be, eh?)

And that just describes all the medical combinations.

For those of us who believe in a God who is in and above and outside and bigger than all those things, it's even more complicated.

I would argue that it's infinitely better, but it's also definitely more complicated too.

Why's it more complicated? Well, said simply, because God can remove the only thing that the medical community treats as a "known" in this thing - my death from this disease.
He can remove that "known" (death), spin it's on it's ear, and make it an irrelevant, totally-not-gonna-happen, don't-trouble-your-mind-one-second-about-it thing.

Death from cancer?
Or is it a never-gonna-fully-explain-it rescue from cancer?

Hmm…guess what?
It's a wait and see.

So today's plan of wait and see (which, by the way, doesn't go against my doctor nor is my doctor going against me in that recommendation) is actually totally okay by me.

It's not that I have incompetent doctor.
It's not that I'm burying my head in the sand.
It's not that I'm being stupid about not wanting to be bald (although, seriously, I just got my hair done and according to friend, it looks marvelous!)


It's about resting in a place of recognition that I cannot determine the outcome of this. In a place of trusting in the One who can and does. A place of surrendering my desire to "know how this will go" so that I can embrace His goodness and His blessings and His grace and His presence today.

So the plan?
It's no different than it has been really:
Wait on God.
And see His face while I wait.


Oh, and to go to the grocery store.
We really need some food in this house.
Love to you all. Thanks for your prayers. They matter.
K.