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.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Update #48
And…..
It's a shocker….
Ready for it?
"Wait and see."
Actually, the news was a bit harder than just a neutral wait and see.
The reality is that - while the CT shows no change and my tumor markers are back in the normal range - one test, the bone scan, shows that there is probably mild disease progression in a few places on certain bones in my body. To help shed more light on the bone scan's results, I just had today an x-ray of my left femur and both hips to get a better look. (I'll hear the results of that tomorrow). With that mixed bag of results, the underlying question still remains: Is this probable progression bad enough to switch treatment?
My doctor (who I trust and appreciate very much) wants to wait 1-2 more months - unless my symptoms in my leg become substantially worse - before she recommends any treatment changes. The reason? Slow disease progression is still considered, medically anyway, a relatively acceptable outcome when you have a Stage IV diagnosis - especially when the treatment plan you're on has mild side effects.
While it may be medically acceptable, it's really not all that acceptable to me. Although I'm not crushed by the news I heard today - thankfully, in no way shape or form am I even close to crushed by it - I didn't like hearing what I heard. No one in their right mind would just smile and laugh at hearing the words "disease progression" strung together. Right? I'm not just a strange one in that regard, right?
Right.
Yet I also know that I, by far, did not receive the hardest news in that place today. Guaranteed. So while I don't offer a yippee over today's news, I will choose to remember that, and instead, be thankful for the easy things about my day today.
I'll choose to be thankful that I don't have to change anything medically right now.
I'll choose to be thankful for Chad rubbing my back and giving me strong, comforting hugs.
I'll choose to be thankful that the pains that I am experiencing are intermittent and most of the time don't even require a tiny little Advil to combat them,
I'll choose to see the many texts, emails, posts on FB as a tangible expression of God's love
Oh yes…there's lots to be in prayer over in this thing, but there's also lots to be thankful for too.
Above all, today was yet another can't-ignore-it reminder that my medical team doesn't have the final voice in my life. While I appreciate them - and the science under-girding their skills - they don't have the final say as to how I live my life. Why I live it the way I do. Even what's going to happen in it. That falls squarely on God's shoulders.
Thankfully, He's fully trustworthy for that job.
May I remember that and hold fast to it.
One more thing before I go TAKE A NAP (not words often spoken by me!)... I wanted to pass along something I read today as I sat in the waiting room. I totally appreciated both the challenge and the encouragement of it. Matthew Henry, in his Commentary on the Whole Bible, made a passing comment as he was offering some insight on a particular passage in Scripture. Here's what he said, "If we do not know truth, we cannot be ruled by it."
I won't say anything more about it.
But, do me a favor, and spend a minute thinking about it.
May it both challenge and encourage you too.
Thanks for your prayers and your encouragement.
With Love,
The Blonde-Ponytail-Sporting-Kristie
:)
It's a shocker….
Ready for it?
"Wait and see."
Actually, the news was a bit harder than just a neutral wait and see.
The reality is that - while the CT shows no change and my tumor markers are back in the normal range - one test, the bone scan, shows that there is probably mild disease progression in a few places on certain bones in my body. To help shed more light on the bone scan's results, I just had today an x-ray of my left femur and both hips to get a better look. (I'll hear the results of that tomorrow). With that mixed bag of results, the underlying question still remains: Is this probable progression bad enough to switch treatment?
My doctor (who I trust and appreciate very much) wants to wait 1-2 more months - unless my symptoms in my leg become substantially worse - before she recommends any treatment changes. The reason? Slow disease progression is still considered, medically anyway, a relatively acceptable outcome when you have a Stage IV diagnosis - especially when the treatment plan you're on has mild side effects.
While it may be medically acceptable, it's really not all that acceptable to me. Although I'm not crushed by the news I heard today - thankfully, in no way shape or form am I even close to crushed by it - I didn't like hearing what I heard. No one in their right mind would just smile and laugh at hearing the words "disease progression" strung together. Right? I'm not just a strange one in that regard, right?
Right.
Yet I also know that I, by far, did not receive the hardest news in that place today. Guaranteed. So while I don't offer a yippee over today's news, I will choose to remember that, and instead, be thankful for the easy things about my day today.
I'll choose to be thankful that I don't have to change anything medically right now.
I'll choose to be thankful for Chad rubbing my back and giving me strong, comforting hugs.
I'll choose to be thankful that the pains that I am experiencing are intermittent and most of the time don't even require a tiny little Advil to combat them,
I'll choose to see the many texts, emails, posts on FB as a tangible expression of God's love
Oh yes…there's lots to be in prayer over in this thing, but there's also lots to be thankful for too.
Above all, today was yet another can't-ignore-it reminder that my medical team doesn't have the final voice in my life. While I appreciate them - and the science under-girding their skills - they don't have the final say as to how I live my life. Why I live it the way I do. Even what's going to happen in it. That falls squarely on God's shoulders.
Thankfully, He's fully trustworthy for that job.
May I remember that and hold fast to it.
One more thing before I go TAKE A NAP (not words often spoken by me!)... I wanted to pass along something I read today as I sat in the waiting room. I totally appreciated both the challenge and the encouragement of it. Matthew Henry, in his Commentary on the Whole Bible, made a passing comment as he was offering some insight on a particular passage in Scripture. Here's what he said, "If we do not know truth, we cannot be ruled by it."
I won't say anything more about it.
But, do me a favor, and spend a minute thinking about it.
May it both challenge and encourage you too.
Thanks for your prayers and your encouragement.
With Love,
The Blonde-Ponytail-Sporting-Kristie
:)
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Update #47
Wrote this around 2 PM today. Didn't get a chance to send it out until now. I'm, thankfully, home!
______________________________________
Sitting at Roswell. Waiting for my scans. Again.
Not a place that I am unfamiliar with.
But not a place that makes it easy for me to rejoice.
The sad part is that I'm not alone.
In the last 15 minutes, there have been 30 other people, couples, families who have walked by my little, out-of-the-way place where I've set up shop as I wait. Whoops. Make that 31.
Time to be honest. Do you know what question I have asked myself over and over again during the past almost three years when I'm here?
Do I care?
Do I care that there are hundreds and hundreds of other patients here?
Or do I just care that I'm here?
Perhaps my answer to this question isn't completely black and white, but I do have a definitive answer to that question.
Chad and I have taken a very nice Christian worship song that has a line it is that says, "It's all about you, Jesus. And all this is for you, Jesus" and we - when we think the other person is being a bit selfish or egocentric - will sarcastically sing it to the other one but replace Jesus' name with one of our names. In essence what we're laughingly reminding each other of is that there is One who deserves to be the center of the world, but neither one of us is Him.
So, because Chad's off getting a quick bite to eat in the cafeteria, I guess I'm stuck singing that sarcastic version of that lyric to myself. Because, truth be told, that's how I feel right now.
I could lie to you and say that I don't care as much about myself as the others' who are in this place. I could pretend that I've never thought about it before or that it's a silly question. Or I could even lie to you and say that, from now on, I will care about others more than myself; after all, that's biblical. But since I have committed to walk this journey out with you as authentically as possible, those are not viable options.
The truth is that I'm in process on this one. And, while I wish my honest answer isn't what it is, the reality is that's where I am: I care very much what happens to me and sometimes that makes me focus only on me and what this means for my husband, my kids, my dog even :)
So why am I sitting here with a smile on my face after coming to this "you're not as good as you thought you were" realization?
Because, as much as I know that God intends for me to see things a bit differently than I see them today, I am so much more in awe of Christ.
Of His selflessness.
Of His countless examples of choosing to prioritize others.
Of His ability to change His own difficult on earth situation at any time by calling "legions of angels" to release Him and, yet, choosing not to.
Why would He do that?
Why on earth would He do all that when He could have easily and simply and quickly and painlessly have chosen not to?
(Here comes the reason for my smile…)
So that you and I could experience a forgiveness, a restoration and a freedom that is beyond words. Beyond what we deserve.
So that you and I could express our weaknesses and failures and questions and doubts and know that we will not be tossed aside as useless to Him.
So that you and I could be in a place - while not unfamiliar, but difficult - and know that we can experience a joy and a peace that defies the boundaries of our walls.
So that you and I can know that hard circumstances don't deny a good God.
Thanks, God, for that truth. I needed that.
So...as I go to try to beat my record in the "How Fast Can You Chug Your CT Smoothie" contest, my heart is lighter and my mind is calmer. Good stuff.
Love,
Kristie
P.S. I'll get the results on 2/6. Be back in touch then.
______________________________________
Sitting at Roswell. Waiting for my scans. Again.
Not a place that I am unfamiliar with.
But not a place that makes it easy for me to rejoice.
The sad part is that I'm not alone.
In the last 15 minutes, there have been 30 other people, couples, families who have walked by my little, out-of-the-way place where I've set up shop as I wait. Whoops. Make that 31.
Time to be honest. Do you know what question I have asked myself over and over again during the past almost three years when I'm here?
Do I care?
Do I care that there are hundreds and hundreds of other patients here?
Or do I just care that I'm here?
Perhaps my answer to this question isn't completely black and white, but I do have a definitive answer to that question.
Chad and I have taken a very nice Christian worship song that has a line it is that says, "It's all about you, Jesus. And all this is for you, Jesus" and we - when we think the other person is being a bit selfish or egocentric - will sarcastically sing it to the other one but replace Jesus' name with one of our names. In essence what we're laughingly reminding each other of is that there is One who deserves to be the center of the world, but neither one of us is Him.
So, because Chad's off getting a quick bite to eat in the cafeteria, I guess I'm stuck singing that sarcastic version of that lyric to myself. Because, truth be told, that's how I feel right now.
I could lie to you and say that I don't care as much about myself as the others' who are in this place. I could pretend that I've never thought about it before or that it's a silly question. Or I could even lie to you and say that, from now on, I will care about others more than myself; after all, that's biblical. But since I have committed to walk this journey out with you as authentically as possible, those are not viable options.
The truth is that I'm in process on this one. And, while I wish my honest answer isn't what it is, the reality is that's where I am: I care very much what happens to me and sometimes that makes me focus only on me and what this means for my husband, my kids, my dog even :)
So why am I sitting here with a smile on my face after coming to this "you're not as good as you thought you were" realization?
Because, as much as I know that God intends for me to see things a bit differently than I see them today, I am so much more in awe of Christ.
Of His selflessness.
Of His countless examples of choosing to prioritize others.
Of His ability to change His own difficult on earth situation at any time by calling "legions of angels" to release Him and, yet, choosing not to.
Why would He do that?
Why on earth would He do all that when He could have easily and simply and quickly and painlessly have chosen not to?
(Here comes the reason for my smile…)
So that you and I could experience a forgiveness, a restoration and a freedom that is beyond words. Beyond what we deserve.
So that you and I could express our weaknesses and failures and questions and doubts and know that we will not be tossed aside as useless to Him.
So that you and I could be in a place - while not unfamiliar, but difficult - and know that we can experience a joy and a peace that defies the boundaries of our walls.
So that you and I can know that hard circumstances don't deny a good God.
Thanks, God, for that truth. I needed that.
So...as I go to try to beat my record in the "How Fast Can You Chug Your CT Smoothie" contest, my heart is lighter and my mind is calmer. Good stuff.
Love,
Kristie
P.S. I'll get the results on 2/6. Be back in touch then.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Update #46 And Then I Promise I'll Be Silent for a Few Weeks
Kinda easy day today.
Doctors aren't all that concerned about my tumor markers being above normal as they're only slightly above normal. However, they were adamant that it is time - actually I'm technically overdue - for repeat scans and so I will be going back to Roswell on January 30 for scans and then, the next week (2/6), for my regular monthly appointment.
My shoulders can relax again for 3 weeks. Gotta like that.
Thanks for loving us through this time. And I am behind on my reply emails so please know that, although perhaps I've haven't yet responded to something you've sent me, please know that I am so incredibly thankful for and encouraged by your words and even by your "no-words just frowny-face signs" that you send along!
K.
Doctors aren't all that concerned about my tumor markers being above normal as they're only slightly above normal. However, they were adamant that it is time - actually I'm technically overdue - for repeat scans and so I will be going back to Roswell on January 30 for scans and then, the next week (2/6), for my regular monthly appointment.
My shoulders can relax again for 3 weeks. Gotta like that.
Thanks for loving us through this time. And I am behind on my reply emails so please know that, although perhaps I've haven't yet responded to something you've sent me, please know that I am so incredibly thankful for and encouraged by your words and even by your "no-words just frowny-face signs" that you send along!
K.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Update #45
Bottom Line: Tumor Markers up outside of normal. Meet with dr. tomorrow morning (9:30 ish) to hear plan. Most likely scans will be scheduled near-term and then the treatment plan will be discussed based on those results.
The Bigger Story:There's a group who is doing the bible study I wrote last fall and they wanted to have an intro to the study. So, today, I went online to find the link to the four messages that I gave at my church in the summer of 2011 to send that link along to them. To help them "pick the best one" I stopped and listened to two of those messages.
Just minutes before hearing the news about my tumor markers, I got to listen to a girl (me) talk about what it was like to anticipate hearing potentially hard news the following week when she was going to have scans because her tumor markers were going up and the most likely explanation was that her treatment plan probably wasn't working any longer.
I heard her (me) talk about the provision and the promises of God and how - even when this Hill of a Hard Circumstance threatens to block her view of God (the right view of God, the full-of-promises and full-of-power and full-of-love view of God) - God is never for one second off His Throne. He is never unaware of her. That He is always seeing her, even when she can't see Him. That He is always acting in accordance to a purpose that far exceeds what she can imagine.
Boy did this girl need to hear that.
I know…doesn't it sound so bizarre that I was so encouraged by an August 2011 message from my own self? Quite honestly, I don't know if that makes it a great message that worth's hearing again or makes me a pretty poor truth-keeper! All I know is that I needed that powerful reminder because my Hill still lies before me and I still have to choose where my eyes will rest:
Will they rest on this scary Hill or will they rest on the face of the One who has already done more than what should be enough for me?
Oh that the "right answer" will be, in fact, the answer I choose...
Be back in touch soon.
K.
By the way…here's the link in case you might want a reminder as well. http://www.wchguest.org/media.php?pageID=19
Scroll down to 8/24/2011 and you'll find a 5 minute intro by Chad. Then you'll see that there are four messages from me (dated 8/23 - 8/20. Not the real dates, but that must have been the way they identified the messages) I'd recommend the 8/21 or 8/20 one…
The Bigger Story:There's a group who is doing the bible study I wrote last fall and they wanted to have an intro to the study. So, today, I went online to find the link to the four messages that I gave at my church in the summer of 2011 to send that link along to them. To help them "pick the best one" I stopped and listened to two of those messages.
Just minutes before hearing the news about my tumor markers, I got to listen to a girl (me) talk about what it was like to anticipate hearing potentially hard news the following week when she was going to have scans because her tumor markers were going up and the most likely explanation was that her treatment plan probably wasn't working any longer.
I heard her (me) talk about the provision and the promises of God and how - even when this Hill of a Hard Circumstance threatens to block her view of God (the right view of God, the full-of-promises and full-of-power and full-of-love view of God) - God is never for one second off His Throne. He is never unaware of her. That He is always seeing her, even when she can't see Him. That He is always acting in accordance to a purpose that far exceeds what she can imagine.
Boy did this girl need to hear that.
I know…doesn't it sound so bizarre that I was so encouraged by an August 2011 message from my own self? Quite honestly, I don't know if that makes it a great message that worth's hearing again or makes me a pretty poor truth-keeper! All I know is that I needed that powerful reminder because my Hill still lies before me and I still have to choose where my eyes will rest:
Will they rest on this scary Hill or will they rest on the face of the One who has already done more than what should be enough for me?
Oh that the "right answer" will be, in fact, the answer I choose...
Be back in touch soon.
K.
By the way…here's the link in case you might want a reminder as well. http://www.wchguest.org/media.php?pageID=19
Scroll down to 8/24/2011 and you'll find a 5 minute intro by Chad. Then you'll see that there are four messages from me (dated 8/23 - 8/20. Not the real dates, but that must have been the way they identified the messages) I'd recommend the 8/21 or 8/20 one…
Monday, January 7, 2013
Update #44
Had a tough interchange with Emilie last night. My hold-her-cards-close-to-her-chest kid said some pretty hard things to me. While I don't know, in full, where some of her complaints and perceptions come from, some of them I absolutely do. I cringe because I know exactly where some of them come from.
They come from me. From wrong choices I've made as a mom. From wrong things I've said, from poorly worded comments I've made, from numerous times I don't stop and listen - truly listen - to the internal, softly spoken voices of my kids.
The truth is that Emilie's perceptions - some of them anyway - come because I've earned those perceptions. And that's…well…that's a huge "ouch."
Yes, it's painful at any time to see the effects of your weaknesses, mistakes, sins.
It cuts to the core at any time, right?
But it cuts particularly deep when you hear those words the day before you head to the doctor to find out what your tumor markers are doing.
Shouldn't you, Kristie, of all people know better? Shouldn't you choose better? Shouldn't you prioritize better? Live better? Love better?
Oh yes. Oh yes, I should.
But I don't always remember that.
And, because I don't, last night's conversation happened.
Tears flowed. And then, thankfully, apologies poured out. Snuggles happened. I love you's were said. Smiles returned. The light was turned out and goodnight's were spoken.
And then what happened?
What do you do after you leave her room after hearing these hard, hard things?
You go into your room. Into the dark closet and you spend several minutes crying. Quietly so that she won't hear and be alarmed.
You spend more than a second thinking - wrongly, but you still think it anyway - that perhaps your children would be better off if someone else was their mom.
You spend a few painful moments wishing you could make everything all better. Wishing either your cancer diagnosis were gone or wishing that you'd never make another mistake again. Yet knowing that both would be nothing short of miraculous outcomes.
These moments are painful. Yet they also serve as deep reminders.
Humble reminders of who I really am. And who I am not.
And that I have a God who sees me.
Exactly as I am.
Imperfect. Mistake-laden. In a wimpy puddle of tears in her darkened closet.
And that He loves me anyway.
He forgives me anyway.
He holds on to me anyway.
He never walks away. Even when I might very well deserve it.
And, ultimately, that's why I'm sharing this story. Not so you'll assure me that I won't be on the next America's Most Wanted for being the Worst Mom in the USA. But because even in the darkest moments, you and I both need to know that God's forgiving truth matters.
So as I head to Roswell tomorrow to hear - yet again - the internal status of my body, I would covet your prayers. Not just for my tumor markers to be in the normal range, but that - just as God's truth penetrated my darkened heart last night - it would penetrate into any of those dark places in Em's heart as well.
Thanks friends. Back in touch tomorrow or Wednesday…
K.
 |
| Thankfully there are many, many, many fun and silly moments too! |
Update #43
Some updates are difficult to write and some are easier.
This one is super simple:
Tumor markers went back down into the normal range.
Wow. I'm truly floored.
I think this goes without saying, but praising Him was easy today.
And I am thankful for that.
Superbly, superbly thankful.
Oops. Daniel's bus is coming. Gotta go. More later. (Or perhaps not…after all, did anyone know that there are only 21 days left until Christmas?!?!)
Thanks to you for, once again, standing in the gap for my family and me. I will never know how to express the depth of my appreciation.
Love,
K.
This one is super simple:
Tumor markers went back down into the normal range.
Wow. I'm truly floored.
I think this goes without saying, but praising Him was easy today.
And I am thankful for that.
Superbly, superbly thankful.
Oops. Daniel's bus is coming. Gotta go. More later. (Or perhaps not…after all, did anyone know that there are only 21 days left until Christmas?!?!)
Thanks to you for, once again, standing in the gap for my family and me. I will never know how to express the depth of my appreciation.
Love,
K.
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