RECOVERY CHRONICLES XXII
She cried tonight. Not one of those big heart wrenching waling cries, but just a long steady stream of tears and sobs. We, so far, have had our cries at different times. My last one was two days ago in the Wal-Mart parking lot. I don’t even know what triggered it but I got out of the car and the weight of the last three months just hit me. It slammed me like a tsunami wave, fast and out of nowhere. So I’m just out there by myself, leaning against the car crying. I had not control over the whole ordeal whatsoever. Tonight was Betty’s turn. She had an under the skin “port” surgically implanted last week to help administer the chemotherapy. That way, we don’t have to have an IV stick two and three times a week. This week, the port became infected, and depending on whether or not they can stop the infection, we may lose it. She took antibiotics for the problem and they have caused a really bad rash to break out on her neck and shoulders. One thing seems to stack upon another and another and sometimes it overwhelms all at once. That happened this evening. I have spent a wonderful lifetime loving and holding this woman. She is my sanity, my best friend, my dreams and the love of my life, all in one package. Tonight, I instantly went to her to hold her and brush away the tears. I so wanted to pull her close to me and hold her tight. To put my arms around her and lay my head on her shoulder. But, her chest is in pain from the double mastectomy, her left arm still hurts from the removal of lymph nodes. Her right side is swollen from the infected port and her hands still ache from all the needles that have stuck her. I knelt beside her chair and ever so gently held her head next to mine. I carefully folded my right hand around hers and gently squeezed and that was all I could do without hurting her. I don’t know how long we were there. Just until the tears ceased. Just until a calm returned to us both. We had talked earlier today about things that we wanted to do in life and places we wanted to go. We discussed far away places, exotic islands, and other countries. When we got through dreaming, we both decided, as we have hundreds of times over the years, that the only place we really wanted to be was with each other. That’s what makes anywhere good, the fact that we are side by side in it. Since Betty is here, in this place of hurt, in this land of sickness, then there is no where else I want to be than right here in it with her. Many times in the last few months, she has apologized for me having to go through this with her. She’s sorry for ME! Hey baby, it’s my privilege just to walk beside you on this journey. There really is no other place I would rather be, or will be. You will cry again, and I will be here for you. You will hurt again, and I will be here for you. It’ not my job. It’s my joy. That’s what you do for the love of your life. That crazy little verse that says, “The two shall become as one,” is not a commandment, it’s a prophecy. A wonderful, mysterious truth from the very heart of God. There really is no me, apart from you. I am blessed with you, and you are stuck with me!
Thank you for checking on us again. Thank you for your prayers. Please pray that we can keep this port for the treatment. If you would pray that specifically for her today, I would ever so appreciate it. We love you all.
RECOVERY CHRONICLES XXI
Tuesday, Jan. 10, 2012
Well I thought maybe that our blogs had ended for Betty’s journey since we started chemotherapy treatment last week, but so many wonderful things keep happening that I wanted to tell you about. Many of you have written us asking that we keep you up on what’s going on with the treatment phase, so maybe we’ll keep going a little longer. Last week, Betty and I went to “Chemo Class.” I haven’t been to a class in a really long time. In my mind I was already trying to figure out how to get out of it. Back in Jr. High I’d just put the thermometer under hot water and tell my mom I had a fever. I tried that with our new digital thermometer and in one second it registered 145 degrees. Betty didn’t buy it. Technology sometimes disgusts me. The old reliable standard, “the dog ate my homework,” obviously didn’t apply because we hadn’t been to class yet and consequently, no homework had been assigned. But I thought I would hold that one in reserve in case this was a two or more part course requirement and home work was a possibility. Of course my dog only weighs 4 pounds, so he probably couldn’t eat a whole paper. Maybe a note card or two. I named him “Rolex,” because he’s a “watchdog!” OK, back on track. So, we went to the chemo class with our notebooks and questions. We were the only two people who showed up for the course. Others had called in and said they were running fevers! The nurse began with some things we should know about the facility we would receive treatment in and then came the video. It told us of all the possible side effects from the drugs and how to deal with each issue. Oh my! I’ve never heard of so many side effects. It’s like they came up with every possible and probable problem you could have with drugs and then they made up a few extra in case you came up with a new symptom. “Can cause constipation and diarrhea.” Is that at the same time? If so, then it seems like they’d just cancel each other out and you’d be regular. Well, your know, normal. “Can cause loss of appetite and weight gain.” At the same time? Wait! Here we go again. Which is it? I mean how sad would it be to finally get your appetite knocked down and then balloon up like you went on a Twinkie binge…...without enjoying the wonderful, smooth, velvety, succulent deliciously creamy center of that luscious, delectable, flavor-exploding cake! That’s just a thought that ran through my mind. Anyway, the class was very eye-opening. It gave us some great information on what to expect after chemo. The number one problem, vomiting. Not just the normal stomach virus kind, but a really wrenching, drawn out kind. It could happen the day of treatment or in the next three days after treatment. Betty began treatment on Friday, at 11:00 am. We had a little glitch about 1:00 pm. She had a slight allergic reaction to one of the drugs, but they got it under control and slowed the drip down and she was fine. We left the treatment center at 5:15 that evening and we waited. Waited for what we were told was probably the inevitable. I told Betty that I was going to pray that she didn’t get sick. I told some friends to agree with me. Betty said she didn’t want to bother God with that request because He had already done so much for her. I told her…. He doesn’t work that way. It’s not like He has a quota of blessings and when it’s up, it’s up! He delights in helping us! He’s our FATHER! She said she knew that, but she just felt guilty for asking for so much. I said OK, I’ll ask and take your guilt for you! I want to thank all of you who prayed for Betty in that way. Today is Tuesday, and she hasn’t thrown up a single time!!! How great it that. It has been a sweet little gigantic blessing in the midst of so much pain that she has gone through. I like specific praying. It’s GOOD! Love to all of you.
RECOVERY CHRONICLES XX
Thursday, Jan. 5, 2012, 5:45 pm
We are praising God tonight for answered pray today. Betty’s heart test today was good and we are able to take the medicine necessary to attack the tumor cells in her body. We had so many friends praying for her today that it seemed God’s presence just hovered everywhere we went. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your intercession. We start the drug treatment tomorrow at 11:00 am. This first session of chemo will last for four hours. Betty will have one year of treatments at different stages during the year and then follow that up with radiation therapy. It will be a long year, but we will go through it and thank God for his grace and comfort in it. Thank you for reading and praying and sharing this blog with your friends. We’ve heard from people all over and it’s great to know that so many folks have stood with us. All the biopsies and surgeries and doctor visits have lead to this, the treatment phase. We are glad to be here. As we travel this new road, we will let you know from time to time how we are doing and give you our prayer concerns for Betty’s healing. Healing is what we are praying for. And as I pray, I realize that healing is really no big deal for God. He created us from dirt. We’re just walking mud packs man. And some of us are packed a little tighter than others. But what God made from dirt, he can surely fix. How He chooses to fix some and not others is still a mystery to me. I’ve told Him before that when I get to heaven, I have a lot of questions about some of these things. He told me, that when I get to heaven, none of “these things” will matter anymore. I like that! Don’t miss the big “home coming” over there. It’s gonna be great! .
This, I suppose, will be our last blog on the subject of discovering and fighting this terrible disease of cancer. Not only because we’re moving on with treatment, but that Roman Numeral thing is really getting out of hand. After XX, I’m just not totally sure of the I and V placement. I know there’s a pattern in there somewhere, but I went to Grand Saline High School, and after we counted to 20 with any number system, we were adrift. You know, once we had used all of our fingers and toes, we were pretty much in uncharted waters. We had a kid who flunked shop due to an unfortunate skill saw accident, with only 9 toes and 8 fingers. He was in trouble after 17! Thank you again for all the love you’ve shown us. Please continue to read the other blogs that I place weekly at our website. They’re listed on the home page as “David’s Thoughts.” And I realize that sometimes I don’t have as many thoughts as you’d think, but still, check with us and we’ll try to bring some truth with some fun into our writing. God has a great sense of humor, don’t miss it. Don’t let the world keep you from it. Rejoice in it and enjoy His gifts to His children. We love you all. Thank you for loving us back!
RECOVERY CHRONICLES XIX
January 4, 2012
We’ve had a great Christmas and New Year’s. Our oldest son, Josh and his wife Emily came home from Pennsylvania. Family is good. They provide a comfort that no one else can.
We’ve been comforted by many others on this journey also. So many folks have told us of their fight with this terrible disease and their victorious emergence from it’s grip. Many have told me in detail. Graphic detail! I must say that I have experienced a lot of “breast talk” in the last few months. Don’t get me wrong. I think breasts are fine. I’ve just never discussed them with women. Until now. Please understand, most all of these stories have been very beneficial to our situation. However some have been a little awkward. I was about to begin a worship service not long ago at a really great church. The crowd was gathering and I was tuning my guitar. An older lady approached me on the stage. She was dressed nicely and was very elegant in her appearance. As she got closer, she placed her hands under each of her breasts, literally jiggled them up and down a couple of times and said to me, “How do these look”?.............Uh…........Uh….... Uh…............Uh!
I have never been at a loss for words. My brain usually has something on reserve to share with my mouth at a moments’ notice. But this day, my brain said, “Hey, you’re on your own, I’m outta here”! And I really was on my own! No one came to rescue me. Those standing around me strangely disappeared. The pastor crawled under a pew! I couldn’t move and I couldn’t speak. I thought, “So this is how I will die, not by disease or accident but by embarrassment.” I find embarrassment is a very slow and agonizing way to go out. It’s like watching the Cowboys in a play-off game. You’re thinking, “Will this ever end?” She went on to tell me how that she had experienced breast cancer some twenty years ago. She had beaten the odds and God had rescued her life. She had reconstructive surgery back then and she was still doing fine today. She wanted me to have hope. She wanted to encourage me in my time of despair. It was a wonderful story, just a really strange introduction. I don’t remember what I sang that morning, or if I sang. I don’t remember exactly what the end of the service was like. But I will forever have burned, on the back side of my eye balls, the image of a uniquely sweet, wonderful lady, trying to bring comfort to my heart. “Thank you ma’am, and by the way, ya’ll looked great!”
Here’s our request of all those who read this note. Tomorrow, January 5, at 9:30 am, Betty undergoes a heart scan to see if she can tolerate a drug treatment for the aggressive tumor that was found during surgery. If her heart contains a certain protein, then the drug that can bring about a cure could stop her heart during the administration of it and can’t be used. Please pray that the scan will prove negative for this protein, and we can began treatment immediately. Please pray for her specifically in this matter. Then we’ll take the next step. They come one at a time. Thank you for laughing and crying with us. Occasionally, we do both at the same time. Check back tomorrow and we’ll tell you where we are. Thank you for your help and concern. We love you all.
RECOVERY CHRONICLES XVIII
Well, we’ve had quite a whirlwind finish to 2011. Life happens and changes so quickly. My grandfather lived to be 96 years of age. He had observed a lot things in his time. For instance, he said you could tell how old a man is by how high he wears his pants. At 96, he said he had to unzip his just to see out! He had four philosophies of life. Number 1: Always drink upstream from the herd. Number 2: Never squat with your spurs on. Number 3: The fastest way to double your money is to fold it over and put it back in your pocket! Number 4: Nearly anything can happen at anytime. I’m not totally sure about 1-3 (though they make a lot of sense), but # 4 he had dead on. My grandparents missed the great “Hymns vs Praise & Worship” wars. The music of the world changed many times during their lives, but the music of the church remained a constant. Constants are not a bad thing, especially when they are adorned with truth. One of their most loved hymns has come to me this week. Sometimes a song comes to my mind for a few moments or a few hours, but occasionally one will find lodging for a while. For a day or a week. Possibly just for however long He thinks I need it. This one came early today and is still melodically filling my heart and mind.
“My hope is built on nothing less, than Jesus blood and righteousness,
I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus name.
On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand,
All other ground is sinking sand.”
The whole song doesn’t play in my head, just this verse. The other verses are great, but maybe this is the one I need today. “Thank you Lord for coming to us in our need and comforting us in a way that no one else can.”
We normally send out a Christmas newsletter at this time of year. The time has been eaten away from us by surgeries and doctor visits. We thank you for your support this year, both in prayer and financial help. Finances are tough for everyone this year and we thank you if you have shared or plan to share with us. We will be good stewards of God’s provision. Also, many think that I’m not taking work because of the circumstances of Bettys’ cancer. NOT SO! Please, all you preacher guys that are reading this, let us come and minister. Call your preacher friends and tell them I’m available. That’s what I do. It’s my calling! It’s my livelihood. Preachers tell me all the time, “Well I called Bro. John Doe cause he’s real good but he couldn’t come so we settled on you!” Hey, that’s OK. I’ve made a career out of being settled on. Let us help if we can. We’re going to take a break from the blog this week. We’ll start back after the first so you can know how to pray for Betty. Thank you for checking on us and keeping up with us here. We hope your Christmas was wonderful and pray the new year will be blessed. We’ll talk next week. God’s love to all!
RECOVERY CHRONICLES XVII
“God is our refuge and strength, an ever present help in trouble.”(Psalm 46:1)
A few years ago we bought a boat. I know, “a hole in the water to throw money in.” “B-O-A-T=Bring On Another Thousand.” “The second greatest day of my life was when I bought a boat, the greatest was when I sold it.” Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard them all. All the terrible things about owning a boat. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not disagreeing with them, I just happen to love boats regardless of the pitfalls. Our boat was an old boat that needed a lot of work. So I jumped in head first and tightened, cleaned, patched, hammered, repaired, calked, painted, waxed, straightened, replaced most everything on it. Did I mention that it was an old boat and needed a lot of work? On the maiden voyage- and when I say voyage, I mean 100 yards from the dock- she cratered on me. The engine wouldn’t start. I was adrift, getting further from the shore. The wind was quite strong that day and the boat was really being shoved around. The lake was rather large and I had no control over where I was headed. I was being pushed toward a rocky shore line which could possibly ruin the hull if I ran aground. No problem though. I had spent good money on extras for this boat. A soft comfy seat, extra-powerful binoculars and a brand new anchor. I opened the storage compartment to get the anchor and it was empty! No anchor! Where’s the new anchor? Then I remembered… I sat in my soft comfy seat, got out my extra-powerful binoculars and looked back towards the shore. There, on the dock, was my brand new anchor! A help that is not present is no help at all.
Today we received more depressing news on our cancer battle. The third tumor that was found at the time of surgery has been deemed to be extremely aggressive. Somehow it is either a different strand or a stronger type. I would love to explain it to you, but I don’t understand it myself. There is so much information coming at us when we visit the doctors, that I just can’t take it all in. We take notes. We jog each other’s memories and then we come home and look up terms and find out about treatments from the literature that they give us. On every visit to the oncologist, we bring home another library of medical jargon with warnings of side effects that the medications will cause. Hair loss, numbness, weight gain, stroke, paralysis, heart attack. If the cancer doesn’t get you, don’t worry, there are lots of other things just waiting for you! We had 21 weeks of chemotherapy scheduled to be followed by radiation as of yesterday. Now, with the new diagnosis, the chemo is extended to a year. The pain, the time, the cost all starts to stack up! It’s almost overwhelming. Then the Word came so sweetly. “Ever present. Ever present help.” He is more that just present. He is ever present. You can’t lose Him. He never takes time off. He is never disconnected. HE’S NEVER NOT THERE! I don’t have to worry about being shoved around by every wind or crashing on the rocks. He’s right there with me. I can rest in Him. I can find refuge in Him. I can hide in Him. That’s where we are right now. Today has been a tough one, but we are not here to whine. Though we’ve cried and struggled through the news of the day, to know that He was with us in the middle of it all gives us peace. If you need us tomorrow, or any other day, we’ll just be resting in Him. Love to all!
RECOVERY CHRONICLES XVI
So the bleeding has finally stopped. The surgeon had no explanation for the event. “Could have been this, could have been that.” Five days is a long time to lose blood according to Dr. David Crain, but apparently we were all in a tither about nothing. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging over the week-end. but that’s where we were also. Just hanging, waiting for someone to tell us what the deal was. I’m sure that doctors are called for many non-emergency medical problems. “What color should this be…what does this smell like…does this one look bigger than the other one?” I can understand a doctors’ frustration with a lot of the crazy symptoms that arise from a neurotic group of patients. But if I were a doctor and a patient called and said, “Hey, we’re bleeding buckets here, what should we do?”, I think I’d probably say something like, “Ya’ll might want to mosey on down to the hospital here so we can plug that sucker up!” But, that’s just me. Anyway, we’re plugged up now. Betty’s arm is still very painful. Still resting in Him and comforted in your prayers. We love you all.