Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Update #87: New Chemo

Well… It's happening. 
I'm here again. 
Same chemo chair.
New chemo drugs.

These past few weeks have brought lots of changes to my body and, as a result, lots of visits to Roswell.  Not to belabor anything but in an attempt to be honest with you, here are some of the things I've experienced and heard and lived through these past three weeks: 

Radiation daily to my left eye – 12 days
Radiation daily to my lower spine – 5 days
Radiation induced vomiting (every 20 minutes on our Rich Family Christmas morning)
CT and bone scans, x-rays, and blood work.
Vision issues in my left eye causing frustration to do simple tasks as well as nausea.
Tumor markers that are fairly rapidly escalating. 
Reduction in my weight.   I'm down about 35 lbs since June. 
New meds at home to manage the annoying cough, the bone pain in my hip, the shortness of breath. 

I probably could go on, but I'll spare us further yuckiness.
You can thank me later.

And, I totally get if you just want to delete this or decide to read it later when it might be at an easier time for you. 
I also totally get it if you read all that and your brain jumps ahead to what you are thinking is probably awaiting me.

And if you're thinking  "hospice" or "palliative care" or any of those types of phrases, you must have been eavesdropping on my recent conversations with my doctor. 
Those terms have either been directly mentioned or certainly implied.

As she has said, "We're not at the Hospice door yet, but…"

So what does THAT feel like?

Not sure.
It's definitely not easy.
It's definitely not fun.
It's definitely not light-hearted.
And it's definitely not what I would choose.
No, definitely not that.

But, thankfully, the physical reality of my situation is not the only voice that's speaking into my total reality. 
There is a spiritual reality that is speaking just as loudly – if not much more loudly - than my physical reality.

And it's a welcomed, peace-filling, awe-inspiring voice.
It doesn't erase  - or, like a good mathematical expression, negate - the physical reality, but rather it puts it into a beyond-important perspective.

As I find myself dealing with more effects of this unyielding disease, I find myself surprised by the amount of hope Christ is pouring out.
And astounded by the unleashing of His voice.
And amazed by the continued sacrificial love of His people toward my family and me.

And it's good.
In the midst of the hard, THAT is good.
So very good.
And I am thankful.

So, again, my friends…thanks for walking this hard journey alongside of us.  You encourage me to endure and be patient. To wait. To watch. To trust. 

Couldn't do this without you. 
So glad I don't have to.

My love to you,


  1. HI Kristie:

    I was made aware of you and your journey through my Adult Christian Group. Donny Kaminski has our group regularly praying for you, praying for God's care for you and your family.

    After reading your post today, I said a little prayer for you. There are those of us out here who cannot really understand what it must be like to be going through what you are going through.

    But we are praying that Jesus is with you, that you find comfort in your spirit with Him, that you find courage to keep on living and making every moment count with your family and loved ones.

  2. Love your smile, Kristie! You are an amazing woman of God!

  3. Kristie,
    Although I do not know you persoanlly, I know you through your mom and Dad and our Church Wester Pres. Through your words I hear your Dad and your Mom, and I hear the depth of faith and the amount of love that you all share. Your are a wonderful product of thier good and thier faith. We have been praying for you both at church and alone. God Bless you

  4. Like countless others, praying on with you, Kristie. We don't think there's another human being who could share the news you share with such humor, brutal honesty and steadfast faith. You have already won the battle.
    Carolyn & George