I'm Tired

Yesterday and today I have felt unusually tired, that tiredness that sleep doesn't conquer. Tears have come to the surface today. It seems I can cry all I want when I'm alone. Sometimes being alone is good.

Life Goes On

I'm snuggled up in my little sanctuary, 1 pm on a Saturday afternoon. Funny how one can live in a 3000 sq foot house and have one little dimension of a 6x8 square foot sanctuary known as a bed. Not much to see but I can hear the sounds of life going on outside. The most notable of Saturday afternoon sounds is the lawn mower. It seems to encompass all other sounds; it drowns out the sounds of car washing, pulling weeds, picking the last of the summer flowers. (It cannot, however, overpower the leaf blower...perhaps more on that another day.)

Hearing the sounds of a neighbor's mower brought this to mind: that no matter what is going on in our own boundaries of experience, life goes on. One doesn't have to move too far outside our personal perimeters that we begin to realize that community is nice to think about, wonderful to experience that "sense" of community but it is without a doubt, fleeting. It seems that whenever we experience tragedy or heartbreak or disappointment (for most of us), the pain will eventually lessen and we find within ourselves that realization that life goes on. People continue their Saturday afternoon lawn-mowing chores. I wouldn't want it to be any other way.

I wish I knew how ...

...to ease the pain of my loved ones. They feel it, surely. I see it on their faces and hear it in their voices and the crackling of their words. I wish I had the words to comfort them through their hidden tears.

A Glimpse of God's Tapestry

I'm outta here in about 30 minutes but wanted to write a quick post. Yesterday was a bit of a tapestry of my life, a glimpse of all the colors and textures of my life. My wonderful "church friends", Lynda and Sandy came by to get some details about starting up the food brigade, the absolutely wonderful church tradition of taking care of its flock. Perhaps this tradition goes beyond church walls but certainly cannot come close to the intimacy of sharing supper in difficult times. We talked little about what they came for -- isn't that always the best conversation? It's strange how we tend to get together for a reason: lunch, returning something we have borrowed, borrowing something we need -- when what we really desire is simply to be together and laugh. It's funny, don't you think, that we put those desires of companionship on a shelf waiting for .....

My mid-day visit was from my college roommate, Jackie. I've written about Jackie once before. I think of all that has happened in our lives since the early 1970s at Longwood College, a girl's only school in eastern Virginia. Our lives in the mid-hippie days when only a year prior to our entrance only dresses were allowed in the dress code. I will never forget the "cattle auctions" when guys would road trip down from U of Richmond or Randolph Macon or UVA. I hated those things. More humiliating than being the last-picked on the co-ed ball team in elementary school. I don't know where I'm heading with this! But our two lives were molded together at that one point in our lives and then un-molded and each became something new and different to fit the time slot we were in.

My evening visit was from Roy. Roy and I go back to the late 1990s and early 2000s when we taught together at Carolina Christian School. This guy's a hoot! We reminisced about those times as well, spending much of the time comparing our Facebook knowledge, interweaving joy, laughter and concern for former students. We were in some sense molded together at one point in our lives and then un-molded and each became something new and different to fit the time slot we were in. Man, how life changes. It changes whether we want it to or not.

You know this, I'm sure...about those pinpoint times in our lives when the day is perfect, the weather is perfect, the people we are with are perfect, the food and the wine are pefect, the rain show delivered just enough rain to make a rainbow but not enough to spoil the picnic. We treasure those days because those days are so rare. Those are our glimpses into God's perfect world in heaven. He gives us those images so we have assurance of His ever-present awesomeness and magnificence.

One of the things that divides Christians into different denominations is the idea of who is in control. Am I in control of my life through the decisions I make or is God ultimately in control?I'm afraid I am not of the calibre to make this decision for all men in all of time, but I can state unequivicably that I believe in the sovereignty of God. I don't know how long it has been that bit of John Calvin's theology has been centered in my life, certainly not life-long. It's become more and more real to me as I have given up more and more of myself to Him. At some point I reached that decision and ever since I have grown more and more sure of it. And today, August 1, 2009, I am totally convinced of it.

The Other Shoe Has Dropped

Yep, just what I've been waiting for these last seven months. I knew what was going on when it happened. I wasn't surprised and like every other day, Jesus was right there beside me. I woke up Thursday morning with a pain in my side and a pain in my shoulder and shortness of breath. I didn't rush to call the doctor Thursday (I'm not an alarmist you know!), but I did rush to call her Friday...9:00 a.m.....on the dot. She could see me at 11:40.

I was there at 11:37. The layperson's (that's me) interpretation: the inflamed liver is pushing on the diaphragm which in turn is causing shortness of breath and pain in my shoulder. Simple enough. I like that. No secret messages hidden in those words. The only option she gave is whether I wanted palliative care (pain control while continuing my bone-stabilizing medicine) or hospice (all treatment is stopped except pain control). I voted for the palliative care. I will meet with them this week.

I have been taking 10mg oxycontin for several months and that had taken care of whatever bone pain I've had. The dr. told me to double up to the 20mg. Let me tell you, the pain is--well, a pain! That hip that had been bothering me for months? I don't feel a bit of that anymore. But boy I do feel the liver pain. You've heard the story: the way to get rid of the pain in your foot is to slam the hammer down on your finger. Amen, brother! It's true!

I want all of you to understand something -- I want to make this ultimately clear for each of you. To those who say that I'm a "trooper," "an inspiration," "a winner," and many other wonderfully kind words that describe my association with THE BIG C, there has been nothing said any sweeter than this: "you are truly a testament to God's Divine Grace." His grace is real and if you have not experienced it, ask Him to show it to you. Life will never be the same.

Yes...I'm Still Alive!

For those who are not in touch with me regularly, the fact that I have not posted since May may indicate 1) that I'm doing well and spend my days lavishing at the spa and eating chocolate bon-bons (I actually like Breyer's chocolate or Klondike bars) or 2) I've passed. Let me assure you that I have not passed. I have been feeling amazingly well since my "terminal" prognosis in January.

This past week has been a bit of a strain on my energy. I was so tired yesterday that I wondered if this was the beginning of the end. I remember during my days of chemo feeling like that -- totally wiped out but not really being able to sleep. "Only time will tell," they say. I finally took the step to look up hospice on the Internet and read a bit. I e-mailed my brother to see if he wanted to be the keeper of years of genealogical research I've done on numerous family lines. I was resigned to it yesterday.

I'm blessed that my son hangs around enough to have a few chats. We laughed yesterday about taking him as a young lad to buy shoes. It always seemed to be a no-winner for both of us, as I recall. "No, you can't get those; they aren't on sale." "How do those feel?" "They're fine, mom." "You sure?" "Yes." I don't know how many pairs we bought but had to return because "these don't feel right." I asked him yesterday why buying shoes had to be such a big deal. With his wonderful grin that I love so much, he told me it was "the pressure." Ha!

Ed (Edward to me, of course) is wrapping up his summer internship with the U. S. Forest Service. Those of you who are parents know exactly what I'm talking about when I say how blessed I am to be able to see him in his element...doing something he enjoys so much...fitting into this new environment with ease and confidence. I know parents who have not had that joy with their child/ren. It's a very nice place to be. Thank you, Lord for this child.

Death is Not Dying

Yes, I know it's been a while since I've posted.  I've even had a couple of folks writing to ask if I'm okay.  Thankfully, all is going well.  I have thought about writing on numerous occasions, but I seem to wait until something of worth comes up.  J. I. Packer, a well-regarded theologian, wrote in Knowing God:  "If we postpone our journey till the storm dies down, we may never get started at all."  In my case, I seem to be waiting for the storm so I will have something interesting to say. That doesn't fit.

A friend sent me a link to a web site that mirrors all that I would like to say to you but haven't the words.  If you desire to know the thought processes and the roller coaster ride of one battling cancer, I invite you to listen and watch Rachel Barkley at http://deathisnotdying.com/.

You made need a tissue or two, as I did.  You will definitely need time (an hour or so).  The blessing will be immense.  Take time, as well, to explore the entire site.  If you want to read her blog, start at the bottom and work your way up to her latest posting.  

As I was listening to her on video, I imagined myself there, I imagined it was my voice speaking. Our journeys are frightingly similar. She states it wonderfully and courageously.

Wow! You've Got to Hear This

http://link.brightcove.com/services/link/bcpid271552717/bctid1913313052

C. S. Lewis Quotation

One web site can be counted on my "most visited" list: http://www.kenboa.org/. I was familiar with his book, Simple Prayers, so when I found his web site I was delighted. I especially look forward to the devotional, Daily Growth. Even when I'm rushed I am able to be spiritually refreshed.


The February 27th issue of Daily Growth had a quote from C. S. Lewis that struck me.


"Christianity is not a patent medicine. Christianity claims to give an account of facts -- to tell you what the real universe is like. Its account of the universe may be true, or it may not, and once the question is really before you, then your natural inquisitiveness must make you want to know the answer. If Christianity is untrue, then no honest man will want to believe it, however helpful it might be; if it is true every honest man will want to believe it, even if it gives him no help at all."

Now, different folks will pick out different phrases that stand out to them. For me, "...once the question is really before you, then your natural inquisitiveness must make you want to know the answer." How many of us known WHEN the question of the universe is really before us? Is it really before us growing up going to Sunday School where the teacher seems to have all the answers? Is it when we first hear of Darwin's theory of evolution at school where the teacher seems to have all the answers? Is it when you're sitting outside on a glorious, sunny afternoon with the sweet sounds of birds, breezes, and children playing that you suddenly want to know? Where did all this come from?

My good friend, Jenny, visited with us last week for several days. Jenny knows how to ask a good question given that her background is in counseling. Although I don't recall exactly what her question was, it allowed my near 22-year-old son to open up. Ed has done his growing up in a Christian home, even attended Christian school for several years. He is an environmental science major at UNC-Asheville and reflected his scientific reasoning in his answer.

I, on the other hand, have very little scientific background. I passed zoology my freshman year at Longwood because I took my professor's advice: he advised me not to study too hard for the exam; "drink a few beers," he said. "If you pass the exam, you'll pass for the year." I don't remember if I drank those few beers, but I did pass the exam with a 70 (I think he cheated a bit to get my grade up to 70). Chemistry was worse: first time around, an "F", second time around a "D".

My husband is the geology sort--a geotechnical engineer. One of those science guys that knows something about anything having to do with science. He's also a strong (not tepid) Christian.

It seems that Ed can talk to Jenny easier than he can talk to me, so I did listen a lot. Bottom line, he really hasn't decided what to believe. The "natural inquisitiveness" Lewis speaks of has evidently not been applied to Ed yet; he is still listening to the conflicting information he has heard from us and what he has heard from science professors (need I say more?) I think that the WHEN will come later. I think he will want to know the answer. I think he will be honest. And I think he, too, will believe Christianity to be true.

Cancer Update

I started this blog mainly so that I could keep my friends and family up-to-date with my health. I haven't gone there ... yet ... because I'm actually doing very well. My last visit to doctor was uneventful. Liver function is our focus now, and the result of my last blood test showed no change. That's good news! I am to have a liver function test done every 2-3 weeks to give us an idea of disease progression. Since my liver continues to do what it is supposed to do, I haven't experienced any physical changes.



Additional chemo is not in my plan and I am perfectly at peace with that decision. I've been on five different chemo drugs as well as several estrogen inhibitors (called aromotase inhibitors). My cancer was initially estrogen receptor positive, meaning that the tumor feeds itself on estrogen. Taking away the estrogen means that the tumors would eventually fade away. That hasn't happened in my case, although I think that treatment has extended my life without the side effects of chemo. Alas, there was one aromotase inhibitor that I had not tried, so I'm giving that a shot. Ladies, you can relate to what the side effects are: hot flashes, interrupted sleep, night sweats. For me, it's no big deal. It's much better than: aversion to certain smells, no appetite, NO sleep the night of treatment (it's the steroids), physical exhaustion, throwing up, taking 3-4 hour naps every afternoon after laying on the couch the hours between getting up in the morning and naptime, daily shots for chronically low white blood cells, borderline anemia because of low red blood cells, staying away from public places, staying away from children....the list goes on.

Yesterday, I actually had the thought that the doctor had made a mistake. How can I be dying while feeling so good? I certainly would not discount my chances for being blessed by one of God's miracles, but I also know that we all are terminal. Whatever, I am trying to use my hours/days/months/years according to His desire and for His glory.

New Addition to Our Family

Yes, we have a new pup. She's a 2-3 year old yellow lab mixed, we think, with German Shepherd. The top 4 inches of her tail are lab, the bottom 7 inches are Shepherd. In fact, her tail has the same star as Heidi had. Good mix! My mother-in-law went with me Friday to the Yancey Co. dog pound, about 25 miles away. This is after spending hours and hours trying to deal with a couple of non-profit pet adoption agencies, with nothing to show for it.

We all liked the idea of going to a non-profit group because most of their dogs are fostered, a good way to get a complete picture of the dog. The problem seems to be that they approach animal adoption as if they were child adoption. Two interviews and a home visit. What?? Certainly they want the dog to go to a good home but enough is enough. To be honest, the other agency was a bit more in line. I was asked how I could give this dog a good home. Good question from them, honest answer from me. But I grew tired of waiting.

My son, Ed, laid claim to the new dog and named her Oakley. Pretty soon, however, he discovered that Oakley did not have the energy level to take hiking and camping. She's a laid-back lab...perfect for the older folks in our home. She follows us around and seems perfectly content with her new home. And I'm perfectly content with my choice. Coming soon: a new "pup" for Ed. (Note: The new pup, the black one in the photo above, is named "Banjo." Every one of those five strings are moving at any given time...he's full of energy and lovin'!)

Intoxicated with unbroken success, we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving grace, too proud to pray to the God that made us.

~Abraham Lincoln

College Roommate

You all know how there always seems to be one person in a group that keeps up with everyone else. Jackie is the one that always sent the Christmas card. Over the years, I watched her family grow because she would enclose those neat little school photos. You know the kind....the kids hate the way they looked but the mamas always thought that they were a perfect likeness.

Jackie and I roomed together for four years at Longwood College (now University) in Farmville, Virginia from 1970-1974. Indeed, it is unusual for two roommates to last that long. It seems that our relationship has lasted these thirty-five years. She came to see me today.

Over the years, I have enjoyed the cards, and then e-mail. I was on her e-mail list so that I, along with who-knows-how-many others, kept up with her two boys as they were growing up and going off to college. And then, sadly, the death of her husband from cancer. I never knew what to say to Jackie when her husband died. I don't even remember if I sent a card. I regret that I didn't go to her and share her grief. The lesson I learned from that immense regret is that you always go to see one who is suffering. I'm saying that now because I want people to come to see me when I am suffering. I don't want them to be afraid.

Jackie and I had lunch at Sunnyside Cafe in downtown Weaverville this afternoon. My son works there as a server (not a waiter as in the olden days), and I wanted him to meet her. He is a part of me that she never knew, and I wanted her to see how proud I am of him.

We talked ... and talked .... mostly about Roy's cancer and about my cancer. She was pleasantly surprised that I was not "skinny" (it's been a long time since anyone considered me skinny). She was expecting me to be an emaciated victim of cancer as her husband had been. I am blessed not to be skinny at this point in my life! I read today that the main cause of death for cancer patients is starvation.

Now that those thirty-five years are behind us, we can once again call ourselves friends. She knows that I will be there for her in her time of need, and I know that she will be there for me in my time of need. I apologized for not being there when Roy died, and she accepted what I said in a gracious way. The wall that I built between us is no longer there. Forgiveness does that.

Losing Nietcha

Nietcha came to us when she was three. My family had decided to adopt a friend for Heidi, so we began a search. My husband's sister believed that a companion would help our sweet Heidi get over some irritating habits, such as gnawing at her nails.

I fell in love with Nietcha as soon as I laid eyes on her. Her family was in the middle of trying to sell their house, and with an infant, Nietcha was just "too much."

Heidi did not take too well to Nietcha. Sweet Heidi became super jealous Heidi--that came out of nowhere! After a week, Heidi realized Nietcha was here to stay and decided to join us in welcoming our new addition.

Immediately, Nietcha and I bonded, perhaps it was because of my "rescuing" her from the wrath of her new sister. That bond never weakened. Losing her broke my heart.

Heidi and Nietcha were both German Shepherds. We raised Heidi from a pup, but she was my son's dog. Nietcha was my dog. She wanted to be near me all the time, loving it when I scratched her ears in just the right place. I won't forget her sounds of surrender when I scratched just right.

Nietcha would have been a wonderful service dog. When my mother was visiting us shortly before her death, Nietcha would lay by her side. She was such a comfort to Mama. When I felt under the weather because of chemo, she was at my side. She had a sense that she was needed, so unlike Heidi. Nietcha always waited ahedad for me, as many German Shepherd's like to do, just to make sure everything was allright.

She loved to go for rides in the car, so she became a constant companion. It didn't matter how short or how long the drive, she never had too much of a good thing.

Nietcha had, over several months, gotten thin. I hadn't thought much about it because she was eating well and had no other symptoms. When a friend commented about her weight, I took her to the vet. After doing blood work , ultrasound and X-rays, the vet and I discussed possibilities. I decided to more carefully monitor her eating and pooping. Then the diarrhea started. We tried antibiotics and an anti-diarrheal medicine. In her last week, she seemed to rally, but then she stopped eating. We started giving her pancreatic enzymes to replace those that the pancreas was unable to produce. Apparently Endocrine Pancreatic Insufficiency in common in German Shepherds. But we were too late.

Niecha died on Wednesday, February 18, 2009. She was eight years old. The night before, she had made her way upstairs and had jumped on my bed. I don't know how she did it -- she was so weak. We had not been letting her into the house because of her diarrhea, but Tuesday evening I took the chance. She was so lonely. I'm so thankful that I did. I was able to scratch her ears and show her how much I loved her. She was able to jump on my bed to show me how much she wanted to be near me. As my husband drove Nietcha and I to the vet (I was still in my pjs and robe), she used her last bit of energy to crawl up in my lap so that I could ....rub her ears.