Update #26

It's been a year.  Hard to believe, but true.

A year ago today, I was sitting in the doctor's office hearing some words that were unbelievably hard to hear. 

"You're taking this really well," he said as he looked into my eyes with a mixture of sadness and uncertainty after he told me that I had metastatic lesions on my bones.  I'm sure part of him wondered if I really understood what it was he was really saying.  

Oh, I got it.  I understood what he was telling me.

I understood that I was just delivered news that meant my life would never be the same again.   News that meant any security I had in planning life beyond the confines of today was gone.  News that meant everything I had believed about my God would be tested and challenged to see if He was truly big enough, truly loving enough, truly real enough to - not just help me make it through this, but to - truly live an abundant life through this.

If I didn't fully process it all sitting in his office, I certainly got it as, the next morning, I held it together while getting Emilie and Daniel ready for school and out for the bus.  I got it when I just sobbed watching them get on the bus and wondering what hurts may lie ahead for them, for me, for Chad.  I got it as I called Laura and just kept saying, "I can't breathe.  I can't breathe.  When will I be able to breathe again?"

Oh, I got it alright.  However, 365 days later I'm still learning how to live with it.

Some days it's easy. Truly.   But sometimes it's still hard.  Sometimes it's a battle to keep my eyes focused on the many things I have to be thankful for.  Sometimes it's a battle to not let my eyes only see the scary size of the waves surrounding me rather than see the firm ground upon which my feet stand.  Sometimes it's a battle to constantly lay down my natural desire to get security from the things of this world (my house, my family, my bank account, my upcoming vacation plans), and be - not just okay with - but satisfied with the security that God promises me as I trust in Him.  Sometimes it's hard to rest in the promises of God.  

Oh my goodness...so many things to share (after all, I haven't been in touch in over 6 weeks with you all!)...

I guess what strikes me most this morning as I sit at my PC listening to some pretty cool music (like this one from Kari Job:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NI_1YliutzA), is that, above all, this past year has just caused me to see the reality of life.  It - cancer - has stripped bare any pretense that I control my life.  And, although I may have more doctor's appointments on my calendar than you do, we both have this common truth:  the path our lives will take is unknown to us.  Despite our best efforts, we just don't fully know the twists, turns, ups, and downs that the road we're on will take. 

Are you okay with that?

Does it bother you?

Does it cause you so much fear in your stomach that you just want to stop reading right this second so that you don't have to think about it and pretend that it isn't true?

Me to.  All of those options at one time or another. 

This past weekend, my women's bible study group went on a little retreat.  In honor of the Royal Wedding, the theme of our weekend was "Living the Dream. Leaving a Legacy."  It was just fabulous. (If you're interested in getting more info about it, let me know.)  And we talked a lot about the things about our life that are unknown to us today and how we respond to that.  Although I won't take time now to walk through all of what we studied and discussed, here's the number one thing that I realized this weekend: 

How I will be remembered is a result of what I choose today.  

I won't be remembered as someone who believed God, unless I believe Him today.

I won't be remembered as someone who loved her husband, unless I love him today.

I won't be remembered as someone who is generous, if I'm not generous today.

I won't be...You get the picture.

It is powerful to me.  It keeps me fully engaged in the present and asking, "What am I going to do with what you've given me today, Lord?"  And, it keeps me fully focused on trusting Him to walk with me and provide for me through all the uncertainties, through all the things that I cannot control.

365 days ago (almost to the minute) I sent out an email to many of you letting you know of my diagnosis. In it I wrote, "...This isn't taking Him by surprise. This isn't something that denies who He is.  He is the Rock. The God Eternal. The Unchanging One.  Nothing - no diagnosis, no painful treatment, no statement of what lies ahead of me - changes that. No matter how hard it is to think of those things." 

It's cool to know that I would say the same thing again today. 

He is the Rock.  

He is the God Eternal.

The Unchanging One.

Nothing changes that.

Amen.

Kristie

Update #25

Quick update now...more later...

 

Hard news today:  cancer appears to be progressing.  The places where I feel (a little) pain are places that show on the scans as having cancer.

Have a choice:  weekly chemo (taxol/avastin) or a 3rd-line anti-estrogen treatment.

After extensive conversation, have chosen the 3rd line anti-estrogen.

I'll be rescanned in May. If there's any progression at all, chemo will be the next step.

 

The anti-estrogen treatment is delivered by injection.  Today I was the lucky recipient of 2 shots.  In two weeks I get two more and then I'll get two more on a monthly basis after that.   And, oh, did I mention the shots go into my butt?  (Thankfully, the few extra pounds I've gained these past months helped to absorb the pain!)

 

I'll write more later, but that's the scoop for now.  Off to put a heating pad on my cheeks.  You know...those cheeks, not the ones above my neck! :)

 

Love to you all and thanks for your prayers.  Despite the swirling waters, there was a deep sense of calmness and peace.  God does that. 

Kristie

 

P.S.  Almost forgot...the bright spot of today's medical news is that they've changed their assumption about the two small spots in my lungs; they're now thinking that they are NOT cancer as they haven't changed a bit since my first scans in May.

Prayer Request

Headed to Roswell tomorrow (Wed) for an 8:30 meeting with my doctor to hear her "final analysis" of what's going on inside my body.  Won't lie.  Not totally calm about it.  Have minor aches in my back and pelvis that make the mind wonder.

 

But I also won't lie and tell you that I'm a wreck; I'm not.   And it's because, today, I heard afresh some really cool things that I needed to hear and place at the forefront of my mind. Things about... 

 

The infinite trustworthiness of Christ - that He is faithful and good. No matter what.

The truth that I am wrapped completely in his arms and hidden in His protective wings.

The fact that God provides so much more than even my (excellent!) dad can. 

 

So as I type this my heart and mind are soothed by these truths - how thankful I am for that.   No knot in my stomach.   I pray that continues tomorrow morning.  If you have a moment, I would appreciate prayers for Chad and me as we meet with the doctor tomorrow.  

 

As always, thanks so very much and I'll keep you posted.

Kristie

Update #24

Seriously, this is getting ridiculous.  I would say that I'm laughing about it, but there's just too much at stake to find this funny.  

 

The short answer is that we still aren't sure what's going on. 

(I know that you must think that I have crappy medical care, but I assure you that I don't...I'm a complicated case, apparently).  

 

Did you ever write those poems in elementary school where you tell a story by starting each line, alternately, with "Fortunately" and "Unfortunately"?  I feel like that's the theme of today as it relates to the news I heard from the doctor:

 

Fortunately,  my tumor markers went down.

Unfortunately, they only went down minimally.

Fortunately, there was no cancer in my ovary and no follow-up is needed.

Unfortunately, my bone scan and CT scans showed additional activity.

Fortunately, it still might be due to healing.

Unfortunately, I have to have an MRI of my spine to see if this sheds that "last piece" of information that will clarify my bone situation. 

Fortunately, the spots in my lungs haven't changed.

Unfortunately, there are too many "fortunately's" and "unfortunately's" to know even medically what the deal is until I meet with doctor again, after she's had the tumor board at the hospital review my case!'

 

Don't get me wrong: hearing all this is way better than hearing only "unfortunatelys"; I saw several patients today who looked as if they've heard - and have been hearing - lots of bad news lately. 

 

But if I didn't tell you that it's not what I wanted to hear, I would be lying.  And, as you know, I made a commitment to you to be as brutally honest with you all as I can be.  This journey isn't meant to win anyone awards.  I'm not up for an Academy Award for Best Actress.  There are enough actresses in the world, and there are enough people (me included) who spend way too much time making it seem like everything's good, everything's fine, that faith is clean and simple and straightforward when it's anything but that.

 

What I wanted to hear was: "Oh my goodness Kristie.  We can't find a trace of cancer in your body.  We're totally perplexed and you are totally healthy."  I don't honestly think that any amount of additional faith will ever change this desire. 

 

I really don't. 

 

And I will sing songs of praise, do a funky dance, embarrass my kids, and tell the stinkin' world what has been done the moment I that I do hear those words.  (I will.  Just you wait.  Be ready to look at me as if I'm a crazy lady.  I'm cool with that.  J)

 

But, unfortunately, today isn't that day.  Or at least it doesn't appear to be that day. 

 

After spending a little time crying and worrying as I left Roswell and had to make some hard phone calls to people I love, I have been reminded that I will always be living with some degree of uncertainty.  And, guess what?  So are you - whether we both realize it or not, both like it or not, both want it to be that way or not, both do everything in our power at times to try to pretend that this isn't true. 

 

So...hmmm...I've thought all afternoon about this and here's my response to living in uncertainty...here's what I'm going to do about this:

 

I'm going to live.

And not just be alive.

But live.

Thanks to Christ, that means that I have the privilege and the right to live abundantly, live joyfully, live peacefully, live contentedly, live hopefully, live humbly, and live expectantly, live without worry or fear or anger or despair. 

 

I think I'll take it.  I hope you do too.

 

Thanks for your prayers.  (Really. I need to come up with a new way to say "thanks."  You all are out-doing yourselves in loving me and my family...it's fabulous!)

 

Love,

Kristie

 

Update #23 - Part II

Back home. Fortunately, things went extremely smoothly.  Our friend Danielle joined us at the hospital and I think she's going to have to come with us each time because today... 

• We made it through Roswell in record time.
• I only had to have two "sticks" in my arm instead of the usual three.
• I didn't need to sit through an extra set of scans during my bone scan; a "one-take wonder" I was this time.
• We even had two hours in between tests that we could actually leave the hospital and have a yummy lunch downtown!!!  (Sugared strawberries in a salad are fabulous. Who knew?) 

The only unfortunate part was that I was a little too efficient. Chad dropped me off at the entrance and then parked the car. By the time he parked and walked into the waiting room, I had already sucked down my barium smoothie so - much to the dismay of my competitive nature - we weren't able to time how long it took!  I almost said that I had to wait until Chad showed up with his stop-watch, but decided getting it over with was top priority.  (I did do a little bragging with the nurse about my mad skills; she was very impressed.)

 

So...I go back for the results of my scans/blood work on Wednesday at 9 AM.  Those meetings are always a bit unsettling.  Waiting for my doctor to come into the room and trying to read her face for what might come out of her mouth in the .2 seconds it takes for her to start speaking is crazy hard.  

 

Thanks for your prayers and encouraging words today. They matter. 

 

I'll be back in touch soon.

With love,

Kristie

 

Update #23

Headed into Roswell tomorrow (Monday) for a CT scan, bone scan and blood work.  I'll be there almost all day.   Needless to say it's not a lot of fun for either Chad or me.   The highlight is the little race I have with myself to see how fast I can drink the yucky "smoothie" they give you before you get your CT scan.  I'm seriously having Chad time me. Last time I totally beat the lady sitting across the waiting room. She started way before me and was still only halfway through by the time I tossed my cup in the trash.  You'd be proud of me, however, I refrained from yelling, "Yeah" and doing a fist pump when the thing hit the bottom of the garbage can!

 

[I'm laughing to myself because I've never chugged a beer in my life, but apparently, if you entice me with a delicious radioactive drink, I'll suck it down in record time.  Funny or completely ridiculous?!?] 

 

All kidding aside...I would love your prayers for tomorrow.  Although I won't be getting my results until Wednesday morning, these tests aren't easy. Physically they aren't too bad, but emotionally and spiritually they can be challenging.  I've been praying a lot - and being reminded through Scriptures a lot - about the fact that worrying about tomorrow is just a distraction from being fully present in the blessings of today.   "Lord help me be aware of and stay focused on Your Presence here with me now, at this moment." 

 

So, while tomorrow provides ample time to practice staying in His presence (lots of laying still and quiet on exam tables), those same minutes can easily be waste on thinking and worrying about all the unknowns of my situation.   Knowing that others are praying for me during those moments provides just that extra nudge I need to keep my eyes on His Face.

 

Thanks!

Kristie

 

P.S.  I'm feeling great after the surgery...my little incisions are healing nicely.  I've just come to realize, however, that there wasn't as much "swelling" as I thought there was in my belly; ice cream, cookies, delicious meals delivered to my doorstep may actually be to blame! :)    

Update #22

If you were a superhero, what would your name be?

 

Me?  I'd be "Scar Girl."

I'd be the coolest Scar Girl ever. 

 

Not sure exactly what crime-fighting skill I'd have....maybe handing out superpower band aids to boys and girls with skinned knees or paper cuts or boo-boos from a bad run in with a stapler.  Whatever skill I'd have, my costume is one that it'd be tough to argue I haven't earned the right to wear.  

 

On Monday, I added three more soon-to-be scars to this well-deserved title and am still in a little bit of awe that it only takes three fairly little incisions to remove body parts these days.  Pretty amazing, isn't it?  Three cheers for laparoscopic surgery!  Thankfully everything went really smoothly, including my recovery thus far. 

 

The most surprising thing is that - unbeknownst to me - I only had one ovary.  Shocking, actually, given that I've had upwards of 10 ultrasounds in the past 5 years and, each time (albeit after some fairly hard-core searching by the tech), they found this now-missing right ovary, measured it, and told me that it looked healthy.   My brain wasn't clear enough to really discuss this "find" with my surgeon in post-op, so I'll let you know what kind of explanation I get when I go in for my follow-up in two weeks!  The good news is that the left ovary - the one with suspicious spot - looked normal, but the jury's still out until the final pathology is complete (in 2 weeks).

 

So that was the most surprising thing.

The best thing was, once again, you.  I don't mean to be repetitive, but I cannot just ignore the fact that I have been showered - and I truly mean showered - with love from you all. 

 

From cut-outs of your hands that remind me you're praying for me;

to getting paper roses that tell me encouraging things that make me cry;

to a treasure hunt of gifts spread all over my house that we're - days later and  to the sheer delight of my kiddos - still finding tucked into nooks and crannies (I woke up in the middle of the night to find a plastic baggie of conversation hearts under my pillow!)

to meals being delivered EVERY DAY for the next two weeks;

to emails, phone calls, flowers, cards, visits, and...drum roll please....drive-by drop-offs of Starbucks coffee drinks!

 

All this and even more that goes unmentioned.  And I'm so grateful for it.

 

But, you know what absolutely continues to astound me?

The letters, cards, emails, gifts from people I don't even know.

People I don't even know who - because they love Christ - have gone to such great lengths to encourage me.

Me.  Little.  'Ole.  Me.

 

Don't think that it's because I really am a Super Hero; we've talked about this in the past.  I'm no hero; I'm just a girl with a really big God, remember?

 

No, I'm convinced that it has nothing to do with me; rather, it has everything to do with the fact that Christ's love matters.  It changes people. It causes people to do illogical, selfless, radical things.  It causes a woman I've never met (who I sense would be embarrassed if I mentioned her name) to send me card after card after card just to remind me that I have a God who is bigger than my circumstances.  It causes mothers with small children and already not enough time in their day to take the time to painstakingly trace the hands of their children, cut them out and write out a Scripture verse that reminds me that He is always present, always in control.  It causes an entire class of 4th graders in a school states away to pray for me daily.

 

Although I cannot fully explain it, what I know to be true is that Christ love changes people, change circumstances.  It dispels darkness, brings laughter, infuses purpose.

Christ's love even caused this girl's kitchen counter to be covered in presents that she never in a million years expected! It's just that powerful. :)

 

Not only am I astounded and humbled and grateful, I am refreshed and renewed and encouraged. And while my ultimate thanks is directed heavenward, I would be sadly remiss if my eyes didn't drift toward faces I know and face I don't know and thank you as well. Thank you for choosing to release His love and pour it down on my family, teaching us about the tangible - and intangible - JOY that comes from knowing Christ and being part of His family.

 

You are the best,

Kristie

 

P.S.  Would you pray for Laura?  Just yesterday (yes, I said yesterday), she was given the opportunity to go on a missions trip with Young Life to El Salvador. She left today (yes, I said today) at 6:15 AM for a week of digging wells and sharing Christ. I cannot wait to see what God has in store... Thanks!!