It's about time...

Yes, it's been awhile since I last chatted with you all!  I'll give you my big good news first...  I had my second post-op CAT scan on Feb. 12 and my oncologist pronounced it "perfect"!  So, 6 months out from my surgery I'm still all clear of those pesky cancer cells.  So thankful, grateful, relieved!  That was this past Tuesday and Wednesday.  Today is Saturday and I'm finding I have a small surge of energy appearing.  More about that later...

This living between scans is an interesting challenge in many ways.  The challenge of it is not "in my face" but rather more subtle.  Like in the early morning prime-sleeping time I found myself thinking about which room of the house would be best to die in, what I wanted to do with my remaining few lucid days!  Weird brain stuff like that.  Then I'd wake up in the morning feeling drained, have some coffee, and get on with my normal-ish life and try not to plan too far ahead in my heart.  Like not buying new shoes because, well, just because.  And I do love me some shoes!  It's been like I've been holding my breath for an extended period yet feeling peaceful at the same time.  A very positive result of this 3-month cycle is that I've seen pretty clearly what is really important to me and one of those is living "cleanly" with the people in my life.  I like to think of it as "living mindfully" -- brain engaged, heart engaged.  And I've had plenty of time to do that, life being slowed down as it has been.  Before going to sleep at night now we often listen to some quiet meditations/affirmations--one is for relaxation and one is for fighting cancer.  I have them downloaded onto my phone.  Often I have to wake up to turn it off and Don is already snoring!  Ours are done by a woman named Belleruth Naparstek.  I'm telling you this because I want to be real with you and these have helped me.  Something else that's been a huge help during these last 6 months has been the PEOPLE who've kept in close touch--either by phone or in person.  The intensity of those first few weeks has lessened, appropriately, but I am still feeling the support and love extended.   How very blessed I am.         

So this morning...I woke up and wanted to exercise!  Of all things.  And clean the bathroom!  So I did both.  Cooking good, nutritious food is getting easier.  I'm getting interested in "rebounding" for exercise.  You use a mini-trampoline and for "older" folks it is recommended you start out very gently for 2 minutes and work your way up to more time.          

I've been researching the mini-tramps this morning (don't get the kind where the springs fly off!) and by next week should be into it.  It's supposed to be good in all sorts of ways--balance, core strength, weight-bearing exercise but easy on joints, good for the lymphatic system (and having had cancer, that's big), etc.  I'm pretty excited.  AND we went for a short hike up the Heather Park trail...short.

All in all it's been a good beginning to my next 3-months.  If my next scan comes out clear then I go to 6 months.  Prayers appreciated in that regard.  Just in case you wondered, I believe prayer makes a big difference and I mean it when I say I appreciate yours on my/our behalf.  Thank you.

Medical Update and Christmas musings...

I just wrote out a nice long update and somehow pushed a wrong thingy and lost the whole thing.  So if this seems a little short it's because I've already written it once!!  This will no doubt be more brief.  Maybe it's just as well...  Phew!

It's been a whole month since I last chatted with you so I'll fill you in.  I did more resting and recuperating, more walking and venturing out.  I'm feeling quite well, just a little residual soreness and fatigue.  Very grateful for the good progress.  I had my first followup scan which showed no sign of cancer!!  Yep!  None.  So a few days later Don and I went for a little one-night getaway at Lake Quinault Lodge to celebrate!  It poured rain and we sat by the fire, getting up only for meals and to have a quick game of pingpong.  

We are so very thankful for everyone who helped us...in large and small ways, who prayed and visited and cooked food and cleaned the house and, and, and!  And we are so grateful to God for pouring out that Peace that just doesn't make sense at a time like this.

And now...Christmas is coming.  I woke up the other day just feeling sad.  I sat there in the sadness for a couple of hours (you know how that is) trying to figure out why and then trying to figure out who to blame! (Ha!)  Then I decided to actually TALK about it with Don.  Amazing thing about talking.  For me it really helps bring clarity.  Here's what became clear to me.

I've struggled with Christmas for a long, long time.  Its been one of those nameless things that was definitely there in my heart but with family, kids, activities, busyness, gifts, blah, blah...it was sort of a silent struggle.  And as I talked with Don I realized the struggle wasn't about doing stuff or buying stuff or going somewhere or about the trappings of Christmas vs. the birth of Jesus.  it was a wound in my heart that's been there since I was a little girl.  I won't go into all that we talked about but I'll just tell you
there comes the time when you can make a choice.  I came to that point.  My choice was to see the wound for what it has been and choosing to my newfound clarity over my old confusion.  This has been a long time coming.  I'm 73 for heaven's sake!  But also... it's never too late to do things differently.  And it's nothing external...it's all internal.  So I'll look the same and sound the same when you see me.  But internally...ahhh.  That's different.  I love it that we have this story-resolving ability available to us when the time is right.  I think that's one of the reasons Jesus came.  Freedom.

Blessings on you all...

Learning to be proactive and my prayer for Christina

Good morning!  It's been awhile, I know.  I suppose I could have written something mundane during these last few weeks but, honestly, my brain just couldn't come up with anything worth putting down in black and white.  A lame excuse, I know.

It's been a continuation of what the last few months have been...resting, ...well, resting.  I'm so grateful for all the prayers, visits, phone calls, cards, flowers and food with which we've been lavished.  Hard to imagine going through this without our family and community.  In addition to resting quite a bit I'm starting to take on some little chores around the house, take longer walks -- I've even gone to Costco (that was an adventure even with help) and Goodwill!  

This is my "learning to be proactive" story.  This morning I had a CT scan, prior to our next trip to the dr. in Seattle on Nov. 20.  Since my last scan was so difficult I forewarned the necessary people before I went in.  (I learned they call me a "hard stick").   What a difference!  The technician (Rob) told me he was a "veteran", that a nurse was standing by with the ultrasound machine (to find a suitable vein) in case he had trouble -- they were ready.  I did my part by staying warm and drinking lots of water beforehand.  It was beautiful.  Quick, painless, done!  I also told  Rob there were people praying this morning and he said, "Good!"

I grew up during a time when the family doctor knew you so well you rarely had to be proactive, and it just wasn't a normal thing to do.  You just trusted they knew what to do and would do it.  This was a long time ago, mind you.  Penicillin wasn't in common use until I was 5 or so!  Hard to believe, I know.  Also, people died a lot younger!  When medical care began to change it was a challenge to switch to having a proactive mindset, where you're the one who gets things to happen, not your doctor, where you understand you have choices -- but I'm getting better and better at it.  

Another thing I've learned these last few weeks is when the dr. says it'll take at least 6 weeks to recuperate...emphasize the "at least"!  Especially when you're an older chick.  AND...it takes a village.  I've learned to bless people by receiving their gifts of love gladly.  

I'm mindful of my dear friend, Christina Nevill, who delivered little Isaiah by C-Section 10 days ago and now this week will have her 3rd brain surgery to remove malignant tumor.  My heart is with her and her husband Doug and baby Isaiah...and all who are walking by their side through this.  God says, "For I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord.  "They are plans for good and not for disaster to give you a future and a hope.  In those day when you pray, I will listen."  That's Jeremiah 29:11.  

Recovery going as expected...

I told a friend the other day that recovering from abdominal surgery is NO PICNIC!  I don't know what I was expecting...really.  I know what the drs. told me to expect but -- you know, I never have believed it would be as challenging as they have said!  Denial?  They said I'd have good days and not-so-good days.  How right they were.  Right now I'm recovering from a not so good day AND NIGHT.  Aren't nights the worst?  On this particular night I was laying in bed at about 11 pm thinking there was a very long night ahead of me and wondering how I could make it a little more comfortable.  I thought and thought until midnight and made my plan.  I quietly got up without disturbing my sleeping husband, grabbed my special pillow, my fleecy pj's from the closet, went to the living room where I retrieved my comfort blanket (yes, indeed), a fresh bottle of water, two Tylenol, two throw pillows (just in case) and proceeded to my corner where my recliner is.  I arranged myself in the most comfy possible way, and stayed there all night.  I actually slept!  I don't know if it was the Tylenol, the pillows, the recliner or my mental state but I was so thankful that, even though I was awake a bit and rearranging all my pillows frequently, I slept.  What a gift it is to be able to sleep.

I've always been a good sleeper!  Even when our kids were very small I slept, sometimes getting a little cranky when awakened.  When we'd go camping I'd know life would be so much happier if mommy slept!  I remember on a hike through the Olympics I didn't sleep for what seemed like DAYS!  It was so hard.  So, I've had enough sleeplessness to have great empathy for those who have trouble sleeping.  God Bless You!  And in the meantime I'm giving much thought to how to rest well, take care of my healing body.  I'm giving myself permission to let the "ought-to's" of life just fall away.  I've never liked them much anyway--   

Yesterday at the University of Washington

Yesterday Don, Becky and I drove to Seattle for an appointment with Dr. Yueng.  This appointment was to have staples removed (accomplished!) and for general followup (also accomplished).  Becky let me squeeze her hand while the staples came out.  I remember doing the same for her.  How time changes things.  Now I just have a very itchy incision.

The result of our visit was that all of the tumor has been removed along with a 3 cm margin.  That doesn't necessarily mean the cancer is gone because they're still looking for the primary site--as yet elusive to all tests.  So the next step is to wait 6 weeks, by which time I should be recovered from this surgery, get another full scan and then go back to the UW for the results.  We're just going one step at a time.

My big job now is to rest, eat, hydrate and heal.  I have lots of help with this so feel no pressure to get up and get going!

Blessings on you all.  Thanks for your continual prayers...

Becky here!  Mom wanted me to share a humorous moment from the hospital - there were many, but this was one of my favorites.  The U of W Medical Center is a teaching hospital, so you don't have one doctor you have whole teams of doctors who come visiting.  The leader of the Pain Team is a French man who pushes a wheeled cart with a computer monitor on it in front of him wherever he goes. I don't know what else he has under the computer monitor but I picture some devices that he uses to cause pain.   He wears heavy black framed glasses, wears a white lab coat and speaks with a VERY heavy accent.  All his little Pain Team minions follow behind like little ducks.  One day he arrived pushing his little cart with the rest of the pain team following behind, he was wearing a mask which just added to the bizarre scene - I guess he was feeling under the weather.  He said "We are zeh pen tem", and all of a sudden I had a Peter Sellers moment.  I started laughing and felt bad, I didn't want to insult anyone but I couldn't help it!  It felt like a Peter Sellers or Mel Brooks movie.  He looked at me and I apologized and explained why I found it so funny and I'm so sorry but I cant help laughing, then HE started laughing too!  He played along and said "We are zeh pen tem, we are here to cause you pen, and we LIKE it!"  It was awesome.  :) 

Second Day Home

This is my second day back home.  Thanks to all of you who have played such an important part in this last week--before, during and after surgery.  Your presence, your prayers and messages have been a huge encouragement to me.  As Tammy said in the previous message, everything went as expected.  We will have our post-operative mtg. with the surgeon next Tuesday where I'll also have my stapes removed.  There are lots of them!

What made this experience so amazing and memorable to me have been the people and all the highs and lows.  

Some of the people...Earl, my ICU nurse:  His words when something went well--and they went well a lot were, "Super Duper!".  He was fabulous.  Stayed flexible when visitors came pouring in and he still managed to do his very important job.  The nurses and Patient Care Technicians on the surgical ward:  Their job was to take care of me and educate me.  What an amazing group of men and women.  They listened, repeated as often as I needed (and, believe me, I needed a lot of repitition) and kept Becky and Don informed--day and night.

I haven't been able to read, listen to music (except for a hospital channel that had a nature slide show with music), or much else.  Becky and Don read to me but I had trouble staying awake.  This is the first time I could attempt to write on my blog and have some confidence it would make sense.  I've stopped the heavy drugs, though, so am thinking more clearly and feeling stronger.  Abdominal surgery is no picnic.

I'd love your prayers that I'd be able to eat (swallow) more easily and that my throat would clear up so I can talk more easily.   It's all part of recovery for me.  Trusting, resting, listening...