It's a long and windy road

Our house is filled to the brim with family again since Steve's clan arrived to stay with us for Christmastime, and I love waking up each day to the sound of girlish giggles from little Emma. Mornings are usually difficult for me as I wake up feeling just as exhausted as when I went to bed which is an immediate reminder that I am still sick and it's going to be another day of wearying effort to accomplish the simplest of tasks. But when I slowly descend the stairs and am greeted by a perpetually bouncing delight of a granddaughter who beams, "Hi-ya Gram!" I am reminded that God is good. He is the Father of life, and He has given me a blissful one.

There have been some new developments in the cancer arena in the past few days which we are praying about and continuing to take one day at a time. We were called to meet with Dr. Segota for an unscheduled appointment after the results of my latest scans were received. She told us that the cancer in my lungs and bones has grown, which is to be expected since I have been going without treatment for almost two months, but more concerning is the fact that the MRI showed five new cancer sites in my brain. These cancer lesions have manifested themselves in noticeable physical symptoms, such as my recent inability to maintain balance or be steady on my legs. Since chemotherapy does not treat cancer in the brain, Dr. Segota said the only option for dealing with these new lesions would be a process called gamma knife surgery, which is actually not surgery at all, but extremely localized and concentrated radiation. The obstacle is that this treatment is generally administered to patients with many less lesions than I have in my brain. There is no evidence that gamma knife surgery yields any benefit in terms of life span or quality of life in patients with numerous lesions. However, since there is no other option for treating my brain, Dr. Segota has already set up an appointment for me Monday morning with a highly esteemed neurosurgeon who has extensive experience with gamma knife surgery. He will have to look at my case and decide whether this treatment is a reasonable possibility for me.

After that decision is made, we will have to make another decision regarding chemotherapy. Although the disease in my lungs and bones is progressing, the cancer in my brain has far greater bearing on my life span. It will continue to be a much more serious concern than the cancer in the rest of my body. So Dr. Segota said we will have to have a discussion about whether remaining on chemo is improving my quality of life, or whether its side effects are actually doing more harm to me than good for my body. But for now, we have set that issue on the back burner until we receive an answer about the possibility of gamma knife surgery.

So once again there has been a sudden turn in the road, and I am asking you to join me in prayer for myself, my family, and my doctors as we wait on the Lord to provide us with some critical answers. Thank you and God bless you.

My One Year Anniversary!

I know it's been a few weeks, but I promise I haven't kept you waiting much longer than I myself had to wait! At the end of last week Dr. Segota walked into the examination room where Bob, Mackenzie, and I waited for my appointment and said, "You will kill me when I tell you this." Luckily for her, she was wrong. When she told me that the lab for the clinical study had once again come up with inconclusive results about whether I qualified for the study, instead of killing her, I just stared at the wall while I tried to come up with a reaction. The past few weeks I had thought hundreds of times about what I would feel and do if the news was that I didn't qualify for the study. I thought about what my response would be if I did qualify. I never decided what my reaction would be if I once again received no answer! Dr. Segota understood my silence and told me she was disappointed and confused as well. After the last biopsy, we sent them the largest sample we could of my most densely cancerous tissue. So it seems that if the lab for the clinical trial cannot determine if I make the cut now, they'll never be able to know. Instead of waiting 2 to 3 more weeks hoping for different results, we've decided to go the chemo route with a drug called Alimta.

So here I sit back in my home away from home at the Holy Cross infusion ward catching up with the oncology nurses I haven't seen in a few months. It's hard to believe it's been a year since this enterprise began. December 13, 2007, was my general physical with Dr. Groene where I mentioned a little shortness of breath. Thankfully, my off-hand remark prompted her to order a chest x-ray which exposed my lung cancer, beginning one of the most monumental adventures of my life. And I praise God that I have yet to see an end in sight.

Day to day living has certainly become more wearying. I am far more fatigued, have little appetite, and simple tasks like writing, painting, or walking up the stairs have become irritatingly difficult. But God sends me all the blessings I need to keep my spirits up and my focus on Him. My sister Jody came back to play with me a couple weeks ago and we had a great time lunching on the town, telling family stories, and once or twice staying in our pajamas all day long! Jody helps to take care of a family of girls who recently lost their mother where she lives in Kentucky. So while she was here visiting, we bought a Christmas doll at Target that coos and sings and sucks her thumb for one of Jody's girls. Separate outfits for the doll were hung up next to it and we picked a cute one out so it would have two clothing options. Later in the afternoon, we stopped at a children's shop so I could find a treasure or two for my grandbabies, and we discovered that Jody's new doll was a perfect fit for the premature infant clothing. Not only were the premie outfits adorable, they were cheaper than the actual doll clothes! Now that Christmas doll has a bone fide wardrobe! And the original Target outfit went right back to the store! Having Jody around for a week of fun did a great deal to buoy me out of a heavyhearted funk I had been in while waiting for results from the clinical study. She has a talent for creating smiles.

If you've known me for some time, you know that my life has generally been characterized by a distinct "get-up-and-go" attitude. I enjoy being busy and active and usually have a myriad of projects going on at any given time. Especially as a mother of four, sitting around idly grew to feel eerily uncomfortable. But this time of resting in my life has given me a powerful understanding of my true significance. Even as I make the shift from the "get-up-and-go" gal to the woman shuffling from the bed to the couch, I have lost none of myself. My identity is found in Christ, in that in His astounding grace and mercy, He chose to save me and give me abundant eternal life, regardless of what my earthly restrictions may be. Galatians 2:20 says, "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." I am continuing to learn more and more of the vast expanse of Christ's love for His children. Ephesians 3:16-19 contains a prayer of the apostle Paul for the church, "I pray that out of His glorious riches He may strengthen you with power through His Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God." Christ's love for me is certainly beyond my understanding, but I am thankful for the enormous purpose and hope it gives me.

I pray that God is also showing you the magnitude of His love and the impact He can make in your life. He is truly the "Father of all compassion."

I have good news and bad news...

The good news is, a sample of my tissue was inspected for the clinical trial, and I was not disqualified! The bad news is, I have not qualified either. Dr. Segota's nurse Debbie called last week to tell us that there was not enough tissue sent to the test lab from my three previous biopsies to determine whether or not the specific mutation they are looking for is present. You can imagine my disappointment after waiting weeks for news and then receiving no answers. Debbie was sympathetic and regretful to be the bearer of bad news, but she asked me to come in for an appointment on Thursday where we could discuss the options that were left.

So this morning Bob, Mackenzie, and I headed down to Holy Cross Hospital to hear our choices and make some decisions. Like Debbie, Dr. Segota was disappointed and apologetic that the lab could not offer us conclusive results. It was a discouragement for all of us, but now we had to look at our options and choose the one we felt best about.

The first option would be to undergo another lung biopsy where they would make sure they gather enough tissue to receive a clear decision from the clinical study. Then we would again have to wait the two weeks while the tissue is tested and find out whether I qualify for the experimental treatment. Of course, the numbers are still the same. After examining the sample tissue, only 10% of candidates actually qualify for the study. But of those qualifiers, 70% of cases see their tumors shrink by about 25%, and life expectancy is significantly increased. I had to ask Dr. Segota to repeat those percentages a few times before I could actually follow the information!

The alternative is to return to chemotherapy using a different drug called Alimta. I could begin this treatment immediately. In 20% of cases, patients see their tumors shrink by 25%, and in 40% of cases, they see their cancer stabilize for about 2 months.

Of course, this isn't a decision with a clear right or wrong answer. There were numerous factors to consider, and pros and cons to each option. But when I turned to Bob and Mackenzie it was clear we were on the same page. I've never been a gambler, but I have always been a risk taker, and I think the risk to go a couple more weeks without treatment, undergo another biopsy, and send in my tissue for a long shot at the clinical trial is a risk worth taking. If the lab results show that cannot participate in the study, I will resume chemo with Alimta. But I would like to know if I qualify for the most promising option.

My lung biopsy is tomorrow at noon, so please be praying for that procedure and pray for the answers we will receive from it about my future treatment! Ultimately, God is in control and as we pray to Him, I know He will reveal His will for my journey.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow!

Well, it has happened again folks! I inspected my pillow about a week after I finished radiation, and determined that either a German Shepherd had been sharing my bed or my newly sprouted hair was again on its way out. It's back to bald and beautiful for me! Last night Annabelle had a sleepover at Gram's, and after her bath she came into my room where I opened my drawer and pulled out a brush to work on her tangles. After a minute of thought, she asked, "Gram, why do you even have brushes and combs?" I laughed and told her I hold on to them for her sleepovers.

I am slowly getting back to feeling like myself again after completing radiation. The skin on my head is red and irritated, much like a sunburn, and I've suffered some hearing loss which will likely repair itself in the coming weeks. But the most significant side effect is extreme fatigue which set in a few days after I began the treatment and has just started lessening this week, just in time to get up and throw on a wig to see Annabelle and Addison get baptized in church Sunday morning. Baptisms at our church are usually scheduled every few months so that groups can be baptized in a single service. We were very thankful that they were willing to work in an unscheduled baptism for my grandchildren at Shannon's request so that I could be there to see my them enter into the covenant family. When children are baptized at Coral Ridge, the entire congregation pledges to take part in nurturing them and training them up in faith. As I heard my church family take this oath, I was powerfully touched and reassured that the kids will be taken care of after I'm gone. It was a beautiful experience that reminded me of God's unfailing goodness and grace.

And then it was on to waffle mania! Erin hosted an elaborate celebratory brunch at our house complete with pumpkin waffles and apple maple syrup. She did a fantastic job, and we enjoyed having extended family and friends over to rejoice with us!

Steve accompanied Bob and me to meet with Dr. Segota last week since Mackenzie was visiting her boyfriend in North Carolina. But of course, she didn't leave without giving him explicit instructions on taking notes and asking questions according to her method. Because of his background with medicine in the Navy, Steve was great to have with us during yet another appointment filled with new information, because he could simplify the medical talk for me. Here's the latest news. Without a biopsy providing absolute proof of the cancer in my spine, they cannot treat the disease. Dr. Segota met with a team of doctors to discuss my case, and they decided the spinal area under suspicion is so precarious that attempting a biopsy might do more damage than good. Instead, they'd rather focus on treating the overall cancer as opposed to that specific region. My best option now is a clinical study which involves a daily oral treatment to impede the growth of the cancer. Roughly 10% of people in my situation have the specific mutating gene that is necessary for the study medication to work. So far Holy Cross Hospital has tested 8 candidates for the presence of this gene and none of them have had it. So they've sent off my tissue to be tested as well, and if it turns out that I qualify, I'll be quite the celebrity around the hospital! This clinical study has had great success in extending the life of its participants. We'll find out if I fit the bill in about a week, so please be praying that I do! If not, Dr. Segota said we will refocus on managing the systemic cancer, though we did not go into detail about what that would involve. With the amount of radiation I've received recently, she said it's best I take a few weeks off from any treatment anyhow.

After my last day of brain radiation, I brought the mask home that was used to bolt me to the metal bed for the procedure - just in time for Halloween! The grandkids have had a great time putting on the stiff mask and running around the house yelling, "Boo!" Terribly scary!

I have continued to be blessed by big-hearted people who take the time to remind me of their care. An elegant bouquet of lilies and irises was delivered to our door last week with a touching note from one of Mackenzie's best friends, Arianne. And my daughter-in-law Dawn brought me wonderful scrapbook pages she made with pictures of Steve's induction as a Naval Chief to add to my book because she knows how I love to show off his accomplishments. I also received an adorable card from a first grade class at Westminster Academy with a beautiful drawing on the front of what we are guessing is either a flower or a ladybug. Either way, it was cute and encouraging.

We have enjoyed the week we've had with Steve since his return from duty overseas. He came to collect Dawn, Emma, and their dog Barley who were staying with Dawn's parents in South Florida while he was gone. But unfortunately, their visit has to come to an end, and they are leaving before sunrise tomorrow to drive to their new home in Washington, DC where Steve has been restationed as Chief. I can really never find adequate words to say how proud I am of my son. I am saturated with joy every time I get to see him.

I'm getting ready to head over and say my goodbyes to Steve and co. I'll definitely be bringing my camera to take pictures of Ballerina Emma, and later Kitty Cat Annabelle and Minnie Mouse Addison at Shannon and John's house!

The results are in.

I know many of you have been diligently checking in for answers about my myriad of tests last week, and I am thankful for your concern. I needed some time to get used to the news myself before I was ready to pass it on, so thank you also for your patience. In my appointment last Tuesday, Dr. Segota was teary-eyed as she told my family that my condition has become significantly worse. The MRI of my spine showed free-floating cancer cells, meaning there is cancer in my spinal fluid, which was evidence that cancer would also be in my brain. Cancer appears in the spinal fluid through a process called drop down metastasis which is basically just what it sounds like. The cancer which originated in my lungs infected my brain and its surrounding cerebral fluid, which then dropped down into my spinal fluid, causing a formidable spread of malignancy throughout my body. The MRI of my brain confirmed what Dr. Segota already knew by showing 8 cancerous lesions in my brain. While the cancer in my lungs has remained stable, this surge in metastasis means the disease is strengthening and growing beyond the rate at which it can be treated. Surgery is often performed to remove brain cancer in cases of up to 4 or 5 lesions, but since my brain has rapidly developed 8 lesions, the only option is daily radiation of my entire brain. This will kill the areas of cancer growth and sterilize the rest of my brain so that baby cancer cells cannot develop. Dr. Segota said that in the future I will also likely receive chemo directly into my spine as opposed to the usual systemic chemo in order to impede the cancer growth in my spinal fluid. Of course receiving all of this information in a span of a few minutes set my head spinning as a flood of thoughts, questions, and emotions washed over me. Dr. Segota had the unenviable responsibility of having to tell us the bottom line of all this information is that, statistically speaking, it shortens the amount of time I have left with my loved ones on earth. You know that my hope has been to greet Shannon's new baby in January, which Dr. Segota sorrowfully said will be unlikely considering the growth of my cancer. But she added that most people with stage 4 lung cancer are no longer alive at this point. I have beaten the odds already, and God may allow me to do it again. We will have to wait and trust in the wisdom of His sovereignty.

Wednesday I had my first appointment with Dr. Irina Grosman, my oncologist for radiation. She gave me a thorough examination and sympathetically rubbed my arm as she further explained my situation and the treatment I will undergo. She seems as sweet and capable as Dr. Segota, and I feel fortunate that I love both of my doctors.

So Friday I got my introduction to radiation therapy. As you can imagine, in the process of treating my entire brain, it is imperative that sensitive areas like my eyes are not unnecessarily affected. The way this is avoided is by molding a personalized, incredibly tight-fitting mask that is placed over my neck and face as I lay on the metal bed for radiation. The mask is then bolted into the bed so that my head cannot move and they can ensure that I am in exactly the same position every time I receive treatment so that radiation never affects areas of my head and neck that are not meant to be treated. The mask is porous so breathing is easy, but it is certainly strange to hear footsteps around my bed and not be able to turn my head to see who is in the room with me. Thankfully, I only wear the mask for about 5 minutes per day, which is how long it takes to receive my radiation. During the process, I don't feel a thing, although as soon as they turn the great machine on, I can distinguish a sort of burning odor. I actually know what it smells like to fry my brains!

Such a drastic advancement in my disease was certainly not the report I was hoping to hear from Dr. Segota, and as I tried to focus on her words through a tempest of thoughts, and as I saw Mackenzie diligently recording scribblings in her notebook like, "disease significantly worsening," "probable loss of cognitive abilities," and "daily radiation" - I felt like I had been sideswiped. I was run off the road and flipped upside down by a truck I never saw coming. I thought I knew the path I was on. My cancer was stable and I was on a break from chemo until the day we would see some growth in my tumors. Then we would resume chemo. I know chemo. I'm comfortable with chemo. Radiation was never a possibility. I didn't want to meet new nurses and new doctors and face this new adversary of brain cancer. I wanted to cry. And so I did. I cried and I slept and I stayed in my pajamas for five days. And my family let me.

Then Monday morning I awoke renewed. My pastor Dr. Kennedy used to always respond to the conversational, "How are you?" with the same profound answer: "Far better than I deserve." And that's how I felt. Lung cancer, bone cancer, brain cancer - whatever afflicts me - I am incomprehensibly loved by my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and I am blessed. I think it's OK to give in to our tears for a time, and I am not afraid to let myself do it, because I know each time I've been sideswiped in life, the Lord comes alongside me and pulls me out of the muck. I realized I had Monday to take Dawn and energetic Emma to lunch. I had Tuesday to make Halloween cookies with Shannon, Annabelle, and Addison. And I had Wednesday to paint with Erin. I have always taken the most pleasure in the day-to-day business of living, and God is still giving me days filled with my little joys.

I also have a lot to be thankful for in the ways God has chosen to answer many of your prayers. My neck pain that has plagued me for months has gone from a 10 to a 1 on a scale of pain. We never found the cause of the pain, but it was the reason Dr. Segota ordered MRIs of my spine which revealed the growth in my cancer. If it wasn't for the neck pain, we would not have known about the cancer in my brain and spinal fluid until after I was suffering the painful effects of this metastasis. When the last of my MRIs was completed, the constant pain in my neck vanished. Amazing the way God works, isn't it?

I am also thankful that I have not yet experienced the severe headaches and backaches that typically accompany cancer in the brain and spine. God has protected me from these symptoms thus far, and I'm asking you to pray that He will continue to do so. From what my nurses tell me, it's pretty incredible that I am practically asymptomatic for the amount of cancer that has filled my body.

So although the news about my cancer is different than what I had hoped to hear, I am consoled by the knowledge that God is always in control and His purposes are always for the good of those who love Him. I am confident in His promises and in the truth that I am still living "far better than I deserve."

It is better to be patient, than it is to become one :)

Well this time around there is much to report on the cancer front. As I told you, my chronic neck pain prompted Dr. Segota to request an MRI of my upper spine to check for nerve compression caused by tumor growth. We’ve been aware that I have cancer in my lower spine and pelvic region, but my complaints of neck pain suggested the disease may have spread. The three MRI images taken Tuesday showed no cancer in the area they examined, but raised suspicions about cancer just lower on my spine than the pictures had captured. So I returned for an MRI of my entire spine. After this test, Dr. Segota called me and explained that they haven’t necessarily found confirmation of cancer growth in my spine, but the results they’ve been getting are leading her to ask for even more testing. It is possible that there are free-floating cancer cells in my spinal fluid, so she ordered a spinal tap, which I underwent this morning. She also ordered an MRI of my brain because lung cancer that has metastasized is most commonly first spread to the lymph nodes and brain. When we did the original round of tests nearly nine months ago, my lymph nodes had, in fact, already been infected, but I was fortunate in that my brain had been spared at that point. Dr. Segota ordered the MRI of my brain to see if we are still fortunate in that area. If not, we will have to discuss new treatment options. In addition to all these tests, I also underwent a bone scan and a CTscan to check all the sites of my cancer for changes. We are meeting with Dr. Segota tomorrow morning to discuss the results of the complete set of tests. Please be praying for wisdom and thoroughness in the technicians and doctors who will be deciphering the information they receive. And pray for my family and myself as we receive their reports.

The litany of medical examinations in the past week has been wearing on me, but I think this is the part I find more taxing. I’m not usually characterized as a pillar of patience. I like things to move! I feel very helpless knowing all I can do is wait until God gives me answers about my future at the appointment with Dr. Segota. I am constantly thinking about it. Practically nothing works to take my mind off the impending news, except politics! The two hours I spent riled up in front of the TV during the presidential debate while Mackenzie shushed me every few minutes was a fantastic blessing to me because after it had ended, I realized I hadn’t given a moment’s thought to the results of my tests! I was too busy running the country! But for the times when I’m not prescribing the solutions for all the world’s problems to our political leaders, please pray that God grants me peace, patience, and distractions!

On the family front, Bob and I had a wonderful time of closeness and relaxation in Naples on the Gulf coast for our anniversary. I was able to find an adorable “grandma store” where we bought an abundance of stocking stuffers and charming treasures. When we returned from our trip, Bob and I were finally able to get together with our good friends Bryan and Norma to party! They never disappoint with the amount of laughs they deliver, and I don’t think Bob disappointed with his homemade chocolate cake either. A few days later, I had a five hour lunch date with girlfriends that I have been close with for over thirty years where we beamed and bragged about our grandbabies. It’s amazing to think of the changes in our topics of conversation at these lunches over the past three decades of our lives.

Bob’s mother Bea was able to visit from New York and brought beautiful handmade doilies which are now adorning several tables around my house. She couldn’t believe how much Annabelle has grown and was entertained by the liveliness of Addison and Emma. She asked a few times just how many people actually live at our house!

Shannon and Mackenzie’s grade school alma mater had a fine arts benefit concert last Monday night, and Mackenzie was asked to sing a number for a segment of the show they had entitled, “The Divas of Westminster,” reprising her title role from the school play five years ago, Hello, Dolly! Annabelle loves to see her aunt on stage so Bob and I brought her along for the night to watch Mackenzie flirt with the audience and belt out her song with back-up from the boys of Westminster’s honor choir. Annabelle was star-struck as she watched a talented little girl sing “Tomorrow” from Westminster’s production of Annie, but of course, my unbiased opinion is that Mackenzie was the hit of the show!

Bob and my kids tell me daily about friends who ask about me, and every time I feel encouraged. It is wonderful to know people are still thinking of me. I appreciate your prayers and know God is working through you in my life.

Taking the City by Storm (Again!)

Well the party's over. My daughters very tactfully pointed out that it has become hard to tell the difference between Bob's legs and mine. Apparently, God is giving me back the hair I lost tenfold! Time to bite the bullet and start shaving again!

One of the places I never grow tired of visiting is New York City, so over Labor Day weekend, when the workers of the family had a few days to spare, we jetted off for five days of fun! Bob and I brought the three girls - Erin, Shannon, and Mackenzie (unfortunately the Navy had other plans for Steve) - and had a vacation I find myself wishing I could repeat. It's not often we get to see Shannon apart from her toddler twosome, so it was particularly special to get some quality time with my middle daughter. Especially because this was her first time in the Big Apple! We made sure she got the full experience, from Lady Liberty to Tavern on the Green to Broadway. And she did all of it while 5 months pregnant and never voicing a complaint about the miles we covered on foot. In fact, I was very thankful that both she and I held up so well during such a busy adventure. I had plenty of energy to enjoy seeing my family take in the endless spectacles that fill the bustling island. Before we left for our excursion, Annabelle was curious about our destination, so we described to her the city filled with towering skyscrapers and enormous flashing lights. The next day, as she and her mother drove into downtown Fort Lauderdale with its dozen or so buildings just over 10 stories, Annabelle's eyes lit up and she gasped, "Mom! Look! New York City!" We took a few pictures from the top of the Empire State Building while we were gone to give her a better idea of the heights we were describing. All in all, the trip was perfect. Don't you wish we never had to return from vacations?

We had to come back though, and it took me a couple days in bed to recuperate. The fight against my cancer does occasionally get the better of me. My physical abilities have noticeably decreased which has been the cause of a few tears. Beyond that, fall is a bittersweet time of reflection for me. This Sunday our church is having a commemorative service for our minister, Dr. Kennedy, who passed away a year ago. The anniversary of my mother's death is also approaching. And it was about a year ago I remember getting the call that my sister Jeannie had suffered her first stroke, marking the beginning of the end in her battle against esophageal cancer. I am so thankful that these three people who meant the world to me all had personal relationships with Jesus Christ, and I can be confident of a reunion with them in heaven. But regardless of the sweet reward I know they are experiencing, deaths are always sad for those of us left behind. This was the most difficult aspect for me to accept in coming to terms with the possibility of my own impending death. I hate to think of leaving my children and grandchildren behind. I hate to think they won't have a matriarch for advice and to share in their future joys. But I know that the God my family serves will continue to be with them, so I am comforted to know they will never be without love and guidance. In 3 John 1:4 the Bible says, "I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth." I know God has helped me to raise four God-fearing children, and that is truthfully my greatest joy.

But as I spend time in reflection each fall, I not only consider the losses, but the life-changing blessings the autumn months have brought. Bob and I will be celebrating our nine year anniversary in a few days! And before we head off to Naples for the occasion, I am busily sewing birthday dresses for Annabelle and Addison - two more of the blessings fall delivered. I need to get them both finished before Annabelle's mermaid-themed party this weekend, and Addison's Mickey Mouse-themed party a few weeks later. And speaking of Shannon's girls...have I mentioned she's going to have another? That's right folks! Whittle down your list of A-names to be feminine gender specific! We're always looking for suggestions!

I am so thankful for those of you who continue to check-in with the blog even while I've been less consistent in posting. I can't tell you how much it bolsters my spirit to know I have constant allies to support me. In fact, I have specific prayer requests I'd like you to bring before the Lord with me. I have been suffering from neck pain that limits my mobility and causes chronic discomfort. Dr. Segota said she doubts it is related to the cancer in my spine, but gave me suggestions to alleviate the pain, and asked me to monitor it. Over the past few weeks, the aching has increased which I will mention in my appointment with her this week. She may have to refer me another doctor for this problem. I am asking you all to pray that my neck pain disappears, either by God working through medicine or on His own. I also have a prayer request dealing with my future. Please join me in praying that God allows me to live long enough to spend time with my new granddaughter after her birth in January. You all know the pride and joy my grandbabies bring me, and I spend so much of my time thinking of this new one I have yet to meet. I want to hold her and smell her and kiss the top of her head as she lays on my chest. I want to be able to tell her how much Jesus and Grandma love her. So please fuse your prayers with mine in this expressly sensitive request.

That is all for now. Thank you for keeping me in your prayers and on your hearts. God bless!

Return of the Jayne

The guilt over my three week blog hiatus has built up, and I have returned! The main reason for the extended writing break is that my condition has been so stable, there's not much to report on the cancer front. I'm still feeling much better than when I was on chemo, with just a little less energy than a completely healthy person. Although I'm off chemotherapy, my mind still feels somewhat trapped in that fog of "chemo brain." I've been doing my usual painting of sugar bowls, jewelry boxes, and other tiny treasures, but it takes me much longer to come up with creative designs to cover my canvas when artistic inspiration used to come naturally to me. But these minor setbacks have done little to interfere with my quality of life.

In fact, I'm really enjoying a slower pace of life these days. Considering that I may have little time left on earth has caused me to stop and smell the roses instead of trying to pack in sensational experiences. When my sister Jeannie learned she had terminal esophageal cancer, one of her first comments was, "I'm letting the dog in the house." Her lovable collie had spent its days frolicking the farm grounds, but was always stopped short at the front door to the house to keep his mud-soaked coat from dirtying her beautiful new home. A pristine domicile suddenly couldn't compare with snuggling with her furry buddy on the couch.

I've finally gotten around to cleaning out my disastrous craft closet. (My family often replaces the word craft with another cra- word when referring to my cluttered area of knicknacks, paintbrushes, glue guns and the like.) And instead of just cleaning house, reminiscing over the forgotten inventory of the closet has become my main focus. Old family pictures, gifts from my sisters, and old projects I had made for my children when they were young were hidden in the mess. This major cleaning project has actually been a great blessing to me in the deluge of memories brought with it. It was also a blessing for the other ladies in my weekly art class since I brought in enough gently used art supplies for their taking to make it like Christmas in August!

My hair is still steadily returning in a particularly unusual pattern. I look like I'm donning a yamaka at all times. Dark grey hair is filling in the crown of my scalp, which gradually fades to white in all directions. So since my head hair isn't exactly growing in as illustriously as I had hoped, I'm more excited about the eye-framing lashes that are returning. Mascara isn't a total waste on me anymore!

There has been big anticipation in our household the past few months over the new SuperTarget which was opening on the corner of our neighborhood. The big day arrived at the end of July, and I think Annabelle may have been the most excited of any of us to get to the grand opening. As soon as she saw the legion of over-stuffed toy aisles, she was scheming of a money making plan to increase her piggy bank funds, and the lemonade stand sale was set for Sunday. In the 95 degree heat, we were fortunate to be set up under a sprawling tree which provided shade as we refreshed passing-by customers. In just one hour, Annabelle's dimples and pigtails earned her over $50! We are thinking of renting her cuteness out to friends in monetary need for a very reasonable fee. Profits aside, it was a beautiful day to spend outside sharing homemade lemonade and smiles with friends and strangers alike.

And now for the biggest news! (Drumroll please) After multiple applications, a peer review, and meeting rigorous criteria, my son Steve has been accepted for training for the position of Chief Petty Officer in the United States Navy. We are overjoyed and immeasurably proud of him! This is one of the highest rankings an enlisted member of the Navy can achieve. It is a recognition of his consistently commendable service over the past seventeen years and a great military honor. We are certainly not surprised that he was chosen - I've always known Steve is the best of the best - but we are thrilled to see God reward his exemplary character with this prestigious promotion. To add to Steve and Dawn's blessings, they were also able to sell their house in Virginia this week as they have been restationed in Great Lakes, Illinois. Dawn, Emma, and their dog Barley will be returning to South Florida for an extended stay after Steve heads out to sea at the end of the month until their move to Illinois around Christmas time. I'm looking forward to spoiling Emma rotten!

That's the bulk of the news around here. I'll continue to ask for your prayers, and thank you for your steadfastness in support. You continue to amaze me!

Makeover Madness

With summer in full swing, I am feeling back to my normal self. Everyone asks how I'm feeling, and now about a month after my last chemo, I am glad to say I'm doing great! I have to monitor my energy a bit, but I have the feeling again that I would never know I had cancer if I hadn't seen the test results at my oncologist's office.

I don't know how we've lived in this beautiful south Florida community for almost ten years without joining the pool, but my kids finally bothered me enough to make us members. Now many of my days are spent by the pool watching Annabelle alternate between practicing her backstroke and freestyle, and pretending to be Ariel the mermaid. It didn't take long for my grandchildren to become indignant that Gram was observing from the shade of an oversized umbrella, so I bought my first swimsuit in fifteen years so I can join in on the splashing wars.

The new suit was just a small article in the wardrobe overhaul Mackenzie and I implemented soon after my energy was restored. We overtook Talbots and a few of my other favorite stores to buy some stylish clothes for my new post-steroids body. I've mentioned before that in order to inhibit the mal-effects of cancer treatment drugs, patients are administered steroids in combination with chemotherapy. It caused the shape of my body to change quickly, so I've spent the past few months in sweatsuits and pajamas. But now that I feel so much better, I don't want to dress like a sick person anymore. "What Not to Wear" is one of the staple shows Mackenzie and I like to watch on our stay-in days. Much like the pattern of the show, we got rid of the articles in my closet that hadn't left their hangers in years, and started from scratch. I looked fabulous at lunch today with my dear friend Patsy! And I'm excited to wear my new outfits any chance I get, so if you feel inclined to invited me out for a meal too, I promise not to disappoint!

I've been looking forward to the chic new ringlets that I knew were going to start growing in anytime now...Well, I've got some fuzz, but it sure isn't any stylish hairdo. Right now the top of my scalp feels a lot like a baby chick. It's fluffy and light, but steadily getting thicker.

Apparently, Bob was ready for a new look too. His Lincoln is on its last legs, so in true retirement age man form, he bought himself a flashy sports car. Bob and I drove up to Orlando this weekend to pick up his new convertible Mustang GT. We had a great time cruising around with the top down, and his work friends have been anxious to see the new hot rod Bob's been bragging about, but it looks like they're going to have to keep waiting. Since we got back to Fort Lauderdale, it's been raining on and off, and Bob won't chance taking his new baby out with the possibility of a thunderstorm. It looks fantastic sitting in our driveway though!

So medically speaking, there's not much to report. I have a routine appointment with Dr. Segota next week, but I'm doing wonderfully and enjoying this time of feeling healthy.

Good News!

Well, Emma et al. have returned to Virginia, leaving our home eerily noiseless. Emma's Fourth of July birthday party went off without a hitch, and I think her favorite present may have been the tissue paper filler from the gift bags. She, Annabelle, and Addison loved throwing the weightless papers in the air and dancing as they floated to the ground around them. Shannon's girls still come over everyday asking where Emma and her parents are. They miss their playmate.

Friday's celebration was made all the more enjoyable after the weights were lifted from my shoulders at Thursday's oncology appointment. Dr. Segota said my lung tumor has shrunk about 2mm, and the cancer in the rest of my body looks stable - meaning it has not changed in size. The fact that the cancer has gotten slightly smaller is remarkable considering 50% of people in my situation are dead six months after diagnosis. Here I am seven months from diagnosis and my condition has improved! We asked Dr. Segota what she thought about the amount of time I have left, and she said she is confident I will live at least a year beyond my diagnosis. She added that whether that means little more than a year or two and a half years, only God knows. How true. Still, I am happy to tell you that all of your prayers and support have helped me to fare far better than most people with stage 4 lung cancer. Praise God!

I will undergo the usual tests again in 2-3 months to see if the cancer has progressed, and then in 3 month intervals until a change is noted. Whenever that happens, we will delve into the possible treatment choices. I would be tested to see if I qualify for a promising clinical study, and if that is not for me, there are multiple chemo options on the horizon. We will cross that bridge when we get there, but for now I am delighted with the good news!

Dr. Segota said I can expect to see much of my energy return and the other chemo side-effects wear off within a few weeks. As I've mentioned before, I will continue Zometa and Avastin, but the effects of these drugs are far less severe. I'm most eager to see my hair grow back. After chemo, the re-grown hair often looks different than it did prior to treatment. I remember my sister Jeannie's hair came back in tight little ringlets that framed her face beautifully. Right now I've got some peach fuzz that appears to be (gasp!) white. My scalp has been tingling, similar to the sensation I had just before my hair started coming out, so I think it's a sign the fuzz may be filling in soon.

We took a mere 357 pictures during Steve, Dawn, and Emma's visit, so I have to share some with you!

Breaking News and More!

It's a big week at our house, and I have somehow stumbled into a rare period of quiet in the home, so I'll use it as long as it lasts to catch everyone up on all the latest news. Steve, Dawn, and Emma are back in town, and it is incredible the amount of noise three little cousins can make. I finished the matching dresses I've been making for Annabelle, Addison, and Emma to wear at Emma's bug-themed birthday party this weekend, so the girls have been tearing around the house in them in 10 minute installments. We try not to keep the dresses on them long enough to get dirty before the day of the party, but they need some time to admire themselves in the mirror each day. They look like three little butterfly princesses in them.

Last Monday I underwent all the tests again to make sure I can go off chemo. I spent the full day being poked and prodded with IVs, shots, a bone scan, and a CTscan. On Thursday morning, I have an appointment with Dr. Segota where we will hear the results of these tests. Hopefully, the conclusion will be that the chemo has slowed my cancer growth enough that I can have an indefinite break from these harsh treatment cycles. I would appreciate your continued prayers on my behalf for these results.

I'm also seeking God for wisdom about a sensitive issue for me. It has been a little over 6 months since my diagnosis, where I was told I would probably live shortly over a year. I'm wondering if I should ask Dr. Segota for another projection at our upcoming appointment. I know it is just an educated guess, but Shannon has given us some exciting news that makes me curious about the time I have left. She and John are expecting another baby! We are thrilled to welcome this gift into our family, and you all know how crazy I am about grandchildren! I want to know if I can count on holding, smelling, and kissing this new blessing, or if I should prepare to possibly depart before I can say hello. I'm sure it wouldn't make any major difference in my behavior, but I'm just curious to know. And then if God grants me more time than Dr. Segota's prognosis, it'll be a blessed bonus. On the other hand, I may not ask her at all. Of course there are many stories of cancer patients who have outlived their mortal prognosis by years. This is because God had already chosen the very hour they would die, regardless of what their doctors estimated. Psalm 139:16 says, "All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be." No terminal diagnosis can change what God has already decreed, but I think a medical estimate of my time left will help my family continue to prepare for my departure. In fact, as I'm writing my thoughts, I think I've decided I'd like to know. I will likely ask Dr. Segota for an updated projection at my appointment, and if I do, I will tell you her response.

Continuing the news from earlier, and I'm sure Shannon will protest this request, but I would love for all of you to send in suggestions for the next "A"-name to add to the series in her family. We don't know the sex of the baby, so we are open to all submissions!

Here are some pictures of my kids with their kids at the zoo and water park adventures this week:

Because He lives

"Because He lives, I can face tomorrow,
Because He lives, all fear is gone;
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living,
Just because He lives!"
~William J. Gaither

This was the chorus Mackenzie sang Sunday evening in church that gave me great comfort and reminded me of the movie Bob and I finally watched last week, "The Bucket List." It was an overall good movie, but there was a particular scene that has occupied my thoughts because of the marginal significance it was given in the film. The characters played by Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson are flying over the Arctic and as they take in the magnificent view, the two terminally ill men begin to talk about the future. Freeman's character says he is not afraid because he has faith. He doesn't go into detail about his faith, but Nicholson's character responds that he is proudly faithless. He says this life is all there is, and after you die it's the end of the story. The wheels on the bus keep going round and round - someone is born, someone dies, and there is no great meaning behind any of it. His companion asks, "What if your wrong?" And Nicholson's character replies with his sly grin, "Well then I win!" And the men turn back to the window view.

The movie goes on, but I was stuck at that exchange. This faithless character thought by ignoring the possibility of a God, he could ultimately win. How is that conceivable? I believe with all my heart, mind, and soul that the one true God sent His son, Jesus Christ, to die on the cross to pay the deserved penalty for my sin and the sin of countless others, so that whoever believes in Him can be forgiven and spend eternity in heaven with Him. I don't see how there could be any other way to live without fear in the assurance that you will reach heaven. If the way to get to heaven is by living a good life and doing good to others, how do you ever know you've done enough? Can you ever feel secure that you've reached that unknown standard of some kind of good to bad ratio where your benevolent deeds outweigh your selfish ones, or must you constantly live facing the risk that you just might not be good enough? Does each blemished action detract from your worthiness of heaven? Just what is the measure of goodness to qualify a person for heaven? In Matthew 5:48, the Bible states the standard, "Be ye perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." Alright, I think most people would agree with me that this is impossible. I know for a fact that I, for one, am far from perfect. I think this is where many people, like Jack Nicholson's character who just wanted to pack as much fun as possible into life, jump ship religiously. Religion requires far too much of us and takes the fun out of life. I would argue that these people are missing a major component of Christianity, but without that element, I can see how they would get turned off. I can see how it may be more appealing for them to believe there is no God and no ultimate accountability. Now there is no need to worry about perfection, but instead they are free to live for their own happiness. But what about people who take this idea to the extreme? If there is no God, then every person can define right and wrong for himself. The Manhattan pastor Tim Keller poses this question to people who claim this conviction, "Is there anyone in the world right now doing things you believe they should stop doing no matter what they personally believe about the correctness of their behavior?" The answer is invariably, "Yes." The fact that we desire justice according to some moral code that is not defined by us, but must be answered to regardless of personal beliefs is one of many strong indications that at heart we are all created to know there is an accountability and a power beyond ourselves. There is a multitude of clues like these that, when examined, suggest that we know there is a God, and we know actions will be judged.

Now if we acknowledge that there is a just God, and we know that His standard for us is perfection, yet we are imperfect, how is all of this reconciled? Of course, in Christianity, we call these imperfections sin. Romans 3:23 begins this way, "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God," and since we know God is just, this sin must be punished. Romans 6:23 says, "For the wages of sin is death." Because of our failure to meet God's standard of perfection, we all deserve to die an eternal death. We deserve to never be joined with our Creator in heaven, but to live forever apart from Him. However, the same Bible that tells us of these severe consequences, also tells us in 1 John 4:8 that, "God is love." These two great attributes of God - His perfect justice and His love - converge in the solution provided for us through His only son Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ, who was fully man and God, lived an entirely sinless life, but died in our place to pay the terrible price for our sin. Isaiah 53:6 explains it this way, "We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all." Jesus was a blameless man who was tortured and died for the sins of the world, but unlike other men, Jesus was also God and able to overcome this death by coming back to life. His physical resurrection is a foreshadowing of the resurrection God offers to everyone who trusts in Christ's sacrifice for their salvation. In Christ, we have no reason to fear death because it is not the end of our story; it is a beginning to our eternity in heaven. Earlier, I quoted a portion of Romans 3:23. The continuation of the passage is this, "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by His grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. God presented Him as a sacrifice of atonement, through faith in His blood." How beautiful that we have a Lord and Savior who not only offers us an eternal place with Him in heaven despite our unworthiness, but He does so by suffering on our behalf, so that anytime we face anguish, we know we can turn to a God who understands our pain in an entirely literal and courage-inspiring way. This has been especially comforting to me as I face cancer with a God who has been through physical pain and death.

All we have to do is acknowledge that we are sinners and believe that Jesus interceded on our behalves so that we can enter heaven. It is truly that easy. But if we choose to ignore God and just hope for the best when we die, Jack Nicholson's character was heart-breakingly mistaken. We do not win. We lose. We lose in the the most monumental and final way possible. And yet it is so easy to win eternal life through a relationship with God. This is the way that we can live without fear of the future and experience the fullness of joy God has intended for us. John 10:10 says, "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." I pray that none of you will put off thinking about these things until it is too late. I pray that you will recognize your own innate perception of justice and love, which we all experience because we are made in the image of our just and loving Creator. I pray that you will believe in the saving sacrifice of Jesus Christ. I pray that you will win.

"And life is worth the living,
Just because He lives!"

A sister is a forever friend.

The comments and cards are pouring in again and I'm so thankful! I especially love hearing from those of you who were very dear companions in my past with whom I have sadly lost touch. Getting reacquainted with old friends is one of those especially heartwarming experiences in life. I don't think it is a coincidence that the resurgence of encouragement from you and a remarkable boost in my energy came at roughly the same time, which was just before my sister Jody's visit from Kentucky.

With our father, mother, and sister all passing recently from cancer, Jody took an astounding 17 trips to Wisconsin and Florida last year to be with her family, which should give you an idea of the kind of dependable and caring sister she is. By now she's made more support visits than she could count on her fingers and toes and still never seems to be suffering from jet lag! Her high energy has gotten me out to lunch, to the mall, and cruising along the beach - all out of my pajamas I should add! Jody said my family and I have got to be sick of the same few pairs of pajamas I spend most days in now, so she's taking mine back to Kentucky and buying me a fresh set! We have shared all the laughter and tears you would expect between two sisters separated by distance, and I'll be sad to see her go. One of the funniest parts for me was watching Bob, Erin, and Mackenzie join Jody for her 3-mile walking exercise video. I sat back and chuckled as I watched the crew do kickbacks, knee highs, and grapevines across my living room while the girls harped on Bob for hanging in the back so he could cheat. Bob was sweating and smiling as he sat down to enjoy a chocolate cookie after exercising.

I've been thinking lately about an apprehension I felt when I first learned of my diagnosis, and which I know some of my friends who have been through cancer grappled with. When I knew I would lose my hair, I wondered how people would receive me. I thought they would stare and make me uncomfortable. But every time I stepped out of my house, I was surprised to find I didn't receive a second look from anyone! It seems cancer has in some way touched the lives of most people in our time, so a woman with no hair is hardly shocking anymore. Instead of feeling self-conscious about my new look, I felt completely accepted. There's no reason for the effects of our treatment to cause us to hide away, because cancer has become a worldwide issue that people are aware of and empathetic toward.

In fact, I found I was the only one giving myself a second look - every time I passed a mirror. Who is that old woman?! All the reader's in my generation will understand what I'm talking about. I think I know the radiant beauty I'm going to see, but when I step in front of the glass I see someone's grandmother! But the grandmother is starting to become more familiar to me, and now I usually don't need a second look. I don't know if this growing recognition of my mirror image is a good thing or a bad thing, but I thought it was a fascinating process, so I've included it for your reading intrigue.

I was able to rejoin my friends at art class last week where I talked with some of them about their own experiences with cancer. I lamented my growing fatigue to them, and they said, "If your treatment is making you feel this way, just think of what it's doing to the cancer in your body." I like that outlook. My cancer should be pooped-out by now! And they assured me that as I stop the chemo, my energy will be fully restored.

So with future restored energy in mind, Bob and I are making plans for after Steve and his family's visit next week, starting with the boat day we've pencilled in with friends on Bob's birthday!

Daydreams of a New World

I had to add a couple more pictures of Annabelle's fashionable clothing made by Gram, and then one of lunch with the ladies in my blonde bombshell wig to celebrate Erin's last day of school since she teaches 5th grade.

I can't tell you how much I've appreciated the outpouring of love I've received since my last post! It couldn't have come at a better time either because this has certainly been the toughest phase of my cancer yet. But now, as I'm enjoying a banana split in place of dinner, (trust me, it doesn't happen often) I'm feeling better and can catch you up. I don't know if it is the wear and tear of multiple chemo treatments on my body, or just the cancer itself, but my observable health has worsened over the past weeks. After a couple episodes of physical illness spread out over a few days, I spent a full 24 hours Sunday through Monday evening vomiting at least once an hour. I had trouble even keeping down sips of liquid, so we called Dr. Segota's nurse who suggested I come in Tuesday morning for IV fluids. I'm taking all the anti-nausea medications they have to give, so unfortunately there isn't much they can do to stop this symptom. But I was glad we made the appointment for IV replenishments Tuesday morning because I woke up so weak I thought I might pass out walking from the house to the car. Mackenzie held my hand for support as we got to the hospital and we spent the day in infusion with the familiar nurses and volunteers who are always personable and gentle in their duties.

Thankfully the vomiting stopped and the intravenous fluids perked me back up, but my energy has remained lower than usual. Little tasks like wiping a spot from the floor can leave me winded. Each time I lay down to catch my breath, it is a blessing to open a card or read blog comments from loved ones rooting for me. I hope you all know how much your care rallies me.

Of course when you hear you've got terminal cancer, you start to spend a little more time thinking about what lies ahead after life. I've been daydreaming of what's in store for me. Bob and I have been looking up what the Bible has to say about heaven...and it's not much, which made perfect sense when I gave it some thought. I've often compared human comprehension of heaven to a baby's understanding of the world while he's still in his mother's womb. If you tried to explain to that baby fetus that it would have to eat and breathe to stay alive when all he's known is the nourishment of an umbilical cord, or tell him gravity would hold him to hard surfaces when he's been floating in amniotic fluids, or describe to him any multitude of the visions and sensations he would experience in a new world in an instant, it would be unfathomable to him. However, the moment he's born, the baby adapts perfectly the the experience he could have never imagined. Although he could not have anticipated what awaited him outside of his mother's body, he was made for this world and has been equipped with all he needs to thrive in it. That's the best way I can understand heaven. When all we know is this mortal world, how much could we understand of an eternal world completely beyond and apart from its realm? Even though I know next to nothing about heaven, I trust God that it is there and I have been perfectly created to live an unending life there.

I know and am thankful that many of you are praying for my healing, and of course I would cherish more years with my family and loved ones if God chooses to give them to me. But at the same time, I don't have the desperation to live that it seems many people expect me to have. My life has not been a fairytale, but I also have no regrets as I think back on my years. I have taken advantage of every stage of life, so like I've said before, I have no bucket list or unfulfilled dreams. It helps me to be at peace with either living or dying. Truthfully, if I do enter heaven soon, I am incredibly thankful for the way God is allowing me to finish my time on earth. We have had family members die in car crashes and other tragic accidents, and I think those are the hardest deaths to deal with. There is no closure. No preparation. No goodbyes. God has given my family the great blessing of time. And as a mother, I am grateful that I can be here to help my children prepare to live without me. I know now is the time to teach Mackenzie all the traditional family recipes. Now is the time for Steve and Dawn to have Emma's birthday party in Florida instead of Virginia so I can be a part of it. It is the time for Erin to get more than an earful of my financial advice, and the time for Shannon and her kids to stop by almost every day. This is really a precious time for us. My mom and dad used to come stay with my family about 6 months out of the year, and even though that was a lot of time to spend with them, I would cry every time they packed the car to drive back to Wisconsin. I didn't want them to leave, but I knew they had to go home. And I was comforted to know that soon enough we would be taking our summer trip to Wisconsin and we would be reunited again. That's how I see the time I have with my family now. My visit on earth may be coming to a close, and it makes Bob and my kids and me cry to think of saying goodbye, but we know that eventually I need to go home. And they will all come stay with me soon.

Is anybody out there?

I had another round of chemo on Tuesday, so now I'm smack dab in the middle of the difficult days following treatment. I spent all of yesterday in bed with what I would describe as a "skullache." It's different from a headache because I actually feel the pain in my bones. My eyes were also sensitive to light, so I tried to sleep as much as possible in my dark room to pass the time. My teeth were hurting again this time around, so I filled up on applesauce, bananas, and the like. I have been fortunate this far to have experienced only one instance of the vomiting that you often hear comes with chemo, but it came back last night and then woke me up this morning. A red bucket is my best friend today.

I am also a little lonely because my daughter Shannon has a cold, so she and her baby girls won't be able to come over for a while since I'm supposed to avoid sick people. Most of the day it is just Mackenzie and me in the house, and we enjoy each other's company, but we've both heard all of each other's stories at least a hundred times! I need fresh ears to appreciate my riveting tales!

All that being said, I miss you! Where have you all gone? When I started this blog, my reasons were many. One of them was a hope that others who experience unexpected suffering could feel encouragement reading along and knowing they were not alone. Another reason was so that I would not feel alone either! I have been blessed by your comments on this blog, cards in the mail, phone calls, and emails - probably to the point where I've taken them for granted. I want you to know how much those small acts serve to lift my spirits and rejuvenate me. The seventeenth-century English writer Joseph Addison is often remembered by this quote, "Friendship improves happiness, and abates misery, by doubling our joys, and dividing our grief." You have all done this for me, and especially on these days when I'm feeling a little down in the dumps, I pray that you will continue to do so.

I can't wait to hear from you!

An end in sight!

We had another oncology appointment with Dr. Segota last Wednesday where we discussed my chemotherapy treatment. She said studies of patients in my position show that they live longest and most comfortably when they receive a limited number of chemo treatments rather than continuing them indefinitely. This is because eventually the detrimental effects on the body outweigh the positive. Medically speaking, curing my cancer is not a possibility, so Dr. Segota wants to stick with the plan that shows the best quality and length of remaining life for patients with stage 4 lung cancer. So after two more cycles, we will stop the chemo, and I will continue to receive Avastin and Zometa, which are drugs that have already been a part of my treatment which inhibit the development of nourishing blood vessels for the tumors and prevent complications from the cancer in my bones, respectively. After my last chemo treatment, which will be June 17, I will undergo tests to gage the current status of my cancer, and these tests will be repeated every three months. If there is unexpected tumor growth, or I show poor symptoms, we would consider repeating chemo. I immediately felt relieved and encouraged to hear there was an end in sight to these chemo cycles. I can't imagine how people deal with the ups and downs of this treatment for years. I have been getting chemo every three weeks, so I've become used to this schedule where I feel awful for the week after treatment and then alright for two, but I am eagerly looking forward to the time when my health will feel more stable.

Discussing finishing my chemo cycles and the limits of medicine again reminded me of God's sovereignty in my life. He is in control of this entire situation, and it may very well be that I do not have much longer to live. I still believe that if God chooses to heal me, He could defy all medical odds and do it, but if He doesn't, I am happy to rest in His plan for me. Taking me home to be with Him in heaven is not exactly a consolation prize to healing me here on earth! It is the ultimate joy, so I have a great peace and in fact a yearning to experience it at the time God has planned for me. Knowing that my cancer is this severe has encouraged me to live more fully in the time I have left on earth, so in that way it has been a great blessing for me. I take little for granted and am thrilled by all the inspiring and even the more mundane aspects of daily living. I feel fortunate that God has given me this time to gain some perspective and live in a more fulfilling way.

The Biltmore Mansion was as impressive as I expected, and we had beautiful weather all weekend. We got to tour the home, vineyard, and gardens. Bob and I found everyone who worked at the Biltmore to be personable and well-spoken and were impressed by their dedication and pride in their jobs. One of my favorite parts was striking up a conversation with a gardner who had worked on the estate for nine years and whose father had held the same job before him for his entire life. He had fascinating stories to share about George Vanderbilt, who had built the mansion, and his family and servants who had lived there with him. I was amazed at how progressive and cutting edge the bachelor Vanderbilt had been when he built this dream home. The entire place was constructed out of concrete instead of the usual wood to prevent fires, but there was also an intricate fire alarm system installed throughout the estate. It was also the first residence in the US to run on electricity and have home telephones. He not only created a home noteworthy for its size, but also for its top of the line and advanced design. As I mentioned last week, Bob had reserved a wheelchair for me so I wouldn't exhaust myself with the tours. We discovered that crowded, unfamiliar tourist attractions are probably not the best places to get accustomed to pushing a wheelchair. We were knocking people over left and right, and while my legs never got tired, I ended up with some souvenir neck pain from Bob's daredevil navigating.

Annabelle and Addison have been able to have some extra sleepovers at Gram's the past few days, and they keep us laughing. The other day Annabelle was curious about all my new hats since I've lost my hair and asked, "Gram, why do you wear those hats all the time? Is it so birds don't poop on your head?" She had no clue why I cracked up, so I explained to her that I hadn't thought of that specific benefit to headwear. She gets to sleep with Gram and Bob when she stays over, and she has taken to wearing a nightcap too to be more like Gram. She is completely adorable.

Memorial Day having just passed, I have to tell you all how proud I am of my son Steve who enlisted in the Navy seventeen years ago. I am so thankful for the selfless service of Steve and the many other military men and women who have taken up this sacrificial profession both now and in past generations.

Weary Bones

I have been feeling the cumulative energy loss from repeated chemotherapy over the past week, and a few days ago I was also feeling pain, which I hadn't experienced in a while. We called Dr. Segota's nurse, and we decided it was time to up my pain medication which solved that problem. It is two weeks after my latest treatment, and the major side effects have worn off except for the tiredness. We had "Fake Mother's Day" on Sunday because most of the family was out of town on real Mother's Day (if you started reading around Christmastime, you'll realize my family has a thing for fake holidays), and I woke up so tired I spent much of the day on the couch while we enjoyed family time. It took a lot out of me just to speak above a whisper. Everyday is not that severe, but I am feeling more overall fatigue.

Bob and I have planned a trip to North Carolina this weekend to see the Biltmore Mansion, which is something I've always wanted to do. I am excited for the vacation, but we've decided it's the last major out-of-towner we'll be planning for a while since my fatigue has increased. Bob has reserved a wheelchair for our tour so I can sit most of the day and relish any special treatment that comes my way because of it!

My sisters and I are trying to finish up the loose ends of settling my parents' estate, which is necessary, but difficult. I still miss them everyday, and sometimes I can feel an actual pain in my chest because of how hard this is on my heart. I have been reminded, though, that I pass on a great deal of my parents' legacy to my kids and grandkids all the time without even realizing it. Yesterday Annabelle wore one of her new Grandma-made outfits to school and when everyone complimented its adorable design, she responded like a well-trained parrot, "Thank you, my grandmother made it." It was a page right out of my own childhood as I remembered my mother drilling that phrase into me, "Thank you, my mother made it."

I've included a picture of Annabelle playing with her Doodle Bug in the outfit so you'll understand why it is so important that I receive credit for the style!