Until a few years ago, I didn’t know that much about cancer.  Cancerland was a place that old people went for excruciating treatments before they died.  Of course, I had heard a few terms, such as tumors, radiation, and chemo, but I had no idea what they meant.  I didn’t even know that chemo is short for chemicals.  Let’s just say I was ignorant of the complexities of the disease. 

Then came my diagnosis…first endometrial, then uterine, then ovarian.   Talk about a learning curve.  I have compared it to being thrown into a boxing ring with the heavyweight champ…only without any training or preparation.  The words “you have cancer” are the first devastating blow in a ruthless fight.  While you are reeling from the first hit, dazed and in shock, you realize cancer isn’t just for old people anymore.  Your medical team swarms around you talking in a foreign tongue that is difficult to understand, while you wonder how to prepare your children to live without you.  Devastating does not begin to cover the impact of this whirlwind.  It is a scary, lonely place, because you are in the ring by yourself.

When you look around to get your bearings, you see people in your corner.  They are cheering for you, and even though you can see the fear in their faces; they offer kind words and encouragement.  They bring you food and offer to take drive your kids. They come pray over you when you are afraid. Cards flood your mailbox, and you realize that your life is intertwined with many amazing people.  You think “It is sad that it took cancer for me to realize how truly blessed I am.”  

Your caregivers, the ones that stand to loose the most if you throw in the towel, stand firm.  They endure ER visits, side effects of medications, grumpiness, and overall chaos.  This battle could not be fought without them; they are the rocks in a sea of panic. Does that mean they are not afraid?  By no means…they are terrified, but they know the battle does not wait until we are ready, so they plough through one step after another.  Day after day, bad report after bad report their lives hang in the balance along with yours.  Hoping for good news becomes a daily prayer, while the world goes on around them.  It is surreal. 

Our school family has been hit hard this year and cancer seems to be behind every bush.  It is stealing from us, and that is difficult to take.  Our hearts are broken for wives and children who have watched their loved ones slip away.  We have a ringside seat so we can see up close the toll the battle is having.  The helpless feeling of being an observer is hard to stomach.  We are a group of doers and it seems there is very little to do. 

I have an idea.  It is a small thing, but it could make a difference.  Relay for Life sells luminaries to raise money for cancer research.  Some of that research is what saved my life by developing the chemicals that treated my cancer.  I am one of the fortunate ones.  To continue to find treatment options is critical to the battle for the cure.  Relay is one small way to support those in our school family.  I plan to purchase luminaries in memory of Dennis Carpenter and in honor of Monty Pert.  It would be moving to see hundreds of luminaries with Dennis and Monty’s names on them.  Somehow, it acknowledges the pain of the battle, and makes a statement that the fight will not end now.  Though the champ appears to be winning at times, we will not give up.  The friends and family members will not forget, nor will we quit.  I plan to make an exclamation of that fact by purchasing luminaries. Will you join me?

For all that are concerned with Peter’s health, here is the latest…

We went to Scottish Rite for the Endoscopy this morning.  It went well and we have some great pictures of his perfectly healthy insides.  So we ruled out ulcers, polyps, tumors and anything else you could see with your eyes…that’s good news.  He also took some small samples from the esophagus, stomach, and intestine.  Those are sent off for biopsies that will be returned sometime next week.  He says they will show if there is anything on a microscopic level that we cannot see. 

Beyond that, he is starting to think that stress related issues would be next to consider.  He asked if we have had any stressors in our lives lately….ha!  Little did he know what can of worms he was getting into.  For kids that do not express their emotions outwardly, they internalize and that can cause physical symptoms like stomach pain.  This of course is much harder to diagnose and/or treat. 

However, I still feel there is some kind of physical cause that we just have not gotten to yet.  It seems too constant to be stress related to me.  I asked today if it could be lungs or some other system besides digestive.  He felt that if that were the case some of the blood work done at the ER would have shown it…but he also didn’t quite rule it out either.  For now, we are waiting on biopsies to come back and then looking toward stress related issues after that.  If we have another ER visit he said to tell them to do another CT scan WITH contrast…since last time they didn’t use contrast.  He said that would show inflammation anywhere and may give us a clearer picture of the source.  So your continued prayers are much appreciated.

So, I am watching it snow and thinking how winter and spring are having this battle. It occurs to me that this is the week of the Resurrection.  Once again, God shows us a natural picture of the spiritual world. Last Sunday was the perfect weather for a triumphal entry wasn’t it?  It could not have better…beautiful sun; the temperature was warm but not too warm.  On a day like that, it is easy to believe that anything is possible.  We could take over the world, couldn’t we?  Problems are distant, the birds are singing and all is well.  I don’t know what the weather was like 2,000 years ago, but I bet the disciples had the feeling that they had arrived, as palm branches were thrown at the feet of Jesus. Their spirits lifted by the enthusiastic reception of the Messiah, they rejoiced that their difficult journey was at an end.  Little did they know that winter had one last storm to throw their way.  They did not perceive the change in seasons could happen so suddenly.

The events went terribly wrong then. It was a trap…or it appears so.  How in the world could those same cheering people become the jeering mob in a matter of days? Winter returned and the snow fell, spiritually speaking. The harsh cold returned and within a few short hours had blanketed all of Jerusalem with a coat of bitterness.  It was a battle in full swing.  If we could have seen the heavenly war being waged it would have been something to behold.  The battle to end all battles, literally.  When Jesus breathed his last breath, I think God cried.  There was darkness over the land like a permanent winter.  For three days, it seemed that winter had won, and spring would never again bud into full blossom. 

But God, ( I love those two little words) was not finished yet. Spring returned in all its glory…in a garden of all places.  God was mistaken for a gardener, but I ask you, was that really a mistake?  Didn’t this whole creation begin in a garden?  I think it was appropriate that the women mistook him for a gardener, in fact, I think in that moment they saw a great deal about his character.  He is someone that creates beauty; who nurtures those in his care.  A God that plants, feeds, and waters his own design in order to bring it to its fullness. A patient God who is not in a hurry because he knows the end result will be a masterpiece that is worth the wait…and the sacrifice of his son. All of this we see in a short moment of mistaken identity. Or was it?  Maybe instead, it was a moment of clarity, one of true identity. 

Suddenly, spring breaks forth and eyes open to perceive the nourishment for God’s garden…the risen Messiah.  He stands among us even now. Can you see him?  Spring has won the battle, and despite what winter wants you to believe, the battle is over.  The snow falling on my deck right now is a temporary blip on the screen. The sun (son) will break through and the earth will awake…it is done. I thank God for his pictures that demonstrate his truth.  It is finished.   

Peter is feeling some better, still hurting but not as severely.  His x-ray results came back today and there is not a blockage...good news, except that would have been the easiest to fix.  Next Wed. April 15 he will be having an endoscopy.  That should tell us more than we know right now.  Continue your prayers and thanks for holding us up.  🙂

Okay, here is the latest with Peter.  We went to a specialist today.  The doctor looked at all of our paperwork from all of our previous visits to ER’s and doctors offices.  He did an exam.  He determined the pain was coming from the colon…he thinks.  There is some kind of issue that he wants to check for by doing a scope in two weeks.  Kids with allergies and asthma tend to be at a higher risk for this particular condition.  I would tell you what it is but I could not pronounce it if I had to.  Whatever it is, it is treatable. 

In the meantime, he sent us to get an x-ray to make sure there was no blockage in the colon. Those results will not be back until Monday.  Peter is relieved and so am I that someone finally seems to have a plan.  He is still guessing but is a “smarter guesser” according Peter.  He added a different medicine that should give some relief in the meantime.  We are headed in the right direction I believe, finally.  Thanks for all of your prayers, please continue.  I will update you when I know more.

In the inky blackness, looms a giant checkerboard of lights.  It towers above the ants below as a monument to men who wish to scrape the sky.  Lesser buildings surround it, their lights reflecting off the window glass in a kaleidoscope of shiny splendor.  The uneven heights reach to the heavens, silhouetted by the lights from street lamps below.   The roof of each building has its own landscape.  Some are grand and highlighted with spotlights as if to say look at my elegance.  Others are simple with flashing red beacons to ward off winged aircraft in the night.

            In the distance, twinkling lights all shades of white sparkle like diamonds set against black velvet.  Cars winding along highways move quickly at first then slow to a molasses pace as the day begins.  The horizontal snake draws the eye among the vertical jungle of buildings. As far as the eye can see, all the way to the horizon, there are lights. The black sky is clear; there are no stars that I can see.  The building beacons are the manmade stars that hide the real ones from view.  Life is like that for us.  Humans with places to go and be, we run and rush, in and out of each day.  The natural stars are hidden, yet there is beauty in the glimmering, shimmering lights of the city. 

I wonder what all those people are doing.  There is great perspective from up here among the clouds.  Each of our small problems seems so big when we do not rise above them.  They take up our entire field of vision, not allowing us to see beyond them to the bigger picture.  Looming 53 stories in the air, I think about how each tiny window contains a person just like me, people that have families, friends, and co-workers. There may be others visiting city for workshops or meetings as I am, sitting in hotel rooms next to mine.  Others probably live here.  Each tiny car has an individual in it with a story.  Some are having a good day; others ride along with the weight of the world on their shoulders.  From this viewpoint, it is impossible to tell one from another with the blur of the lights. 

It is enough to make me wonder in awe at how God does it.  How does he know each name, each hair on our heads?   I do not know about you, but I am glad he is big enough to breathe the stars into existence and to care about my individual needs at the same time. He knows the story of every person in every window.  His capacity for love is so deep that he cares intimately for each individual.  He is not silenced by the man made glitter that tries to hide him, in fact he can easily top it.  I see the heavens now, turning deep red in the distance.  The black of night is fading into gray, then pale blue.  Flamingo pink sky hovers over the bump on the horizon that I know to be the mountain of stone.  Purple blended with the pink creates a blend of color that glows as the sun rises above the horizon.  It is a spectacular dawning of a new day…and a new perspective.

This is getting old really fast. As you know last Sunday night Peter went to the ER and they found nothing wrong.  On Monday, our family doc took more blood and still it showed nothing wrong.  She referred us to a pediatric gastro specialist and we scheduled the soonest appointment they had...in May.  Our doc said if he had pain again to take him to Scottish Rite ER because that would get the gastro doc he needed faster.

            At 9:00 pm last night, one week from his last ER trip, Peter began having pain again.  This time it was not in his back but had radiated around to his right side.  He took his pain meds and tried to go to sleep.  About 12:30 am he was back up doubled over in the most pain I think he has had yet.  We did what our doctor had suggested and took him down to Scottish Rite.  I was prepared for an appendectomy because it just seemed the pain was now presenting like an appendix.  Again, more tests, just like the ones he had last week. Again, nothing abnormal.  She ruled out appendix because his inflammation rate was normal and so was his white count.

 They gave him a bag of fluid…no change.  They gave him pain meds…no change…not even sleep.  They did an ultra sound…nothing.  Blood work and urine all came back normal.  They called the gastro doc and he prescribed a stomach med.  They put it through his IV and his pain went down considerably.  So, they wrote us a prescription to give him at home and sent us on our way at 9:00 this morning.  We also got our doctors appointment moved up to next week…the soonest they have.  This is frustrating to say the least.  I know something is wrong but no one can find it.  I am encouraged that at least we have found something that seems to point us in one direction or another.  Not to mention we have a specialist now that may be able to help us narrow things down.  I was so convinced when we left here this morning that he would be having surgery…I still think it is most likely his appendix.  We had several trips to the ER before Bill finally had his appendectomy, years ago.  For now, we will go through the protocols but we request your prayers.  Peter is tired of being a pincushion…I can relate to that feeling. For today, sleep is the top priority.  This was a long, long night.  I haven’t been this tired since I was a teenager at a lock in.

I wanted to update you on Peter.  Many of you know that he has been suffering this winter with a sinus infection that would not go away.  The good news is that it is finally gone!!! It only took 4 rounds of antibiotics.  However, for the past three weeks he has been having a pain in his abdomen.  It is on the right side on his back right over his kidney.  It has been progressively been getting worse until Sunday night when we ended up in the ER.  They have run a multitude of tests, from blood work, urine, CT scans and ultrasounds.  So far every thing has come up normal, yet he is still in pain.  We go for another dr appointment on Thursday afternoon to see the results of the latest round of blood work.  They have ruled out kidney infection, kidney stones, gall stones and several other things.  All the blood work is normal so there does not appear to be an infection…no fever either.  They do not think it is his appendix, because his white count is not elevated.  Now they have put him on Zantac to make sure it is not his stomach flaring from so many antibiotics.  So far, that has not helped his pain at all.  We are kind of shooting in the dark, trying to eliminate one thing at a time. They are thinking it is viral at this point and want to do another mono test even though the first one came back negative.  If you don’t mind praying when the Lord puts him on your heart we would appreciate it.  Tonight he seems slightly better so I am hoping that the source, whatever it is, is resolving itself.

I guess you have noticed I haven’t written a lot lately.  It is because I am reading.  My topic? The Holocaust.  Tough stuff.  Two of my kids have been assigned books written from inside concentration camps.  It is of interest to me because I a writing a children’s book about it right now.  I know I know….not quite a children’s topic.  To me, putting a hard topic, rich with deep meaning, into a story simple enough for children is part of the challenge.  I am wrestling over this partially written manuscript…thinking I may be onto my first middle school novel rather than a picture book.  How to simplify it enough is the problem, how to write gently while still covering the facts…it is my current mental activity.  I wrote my first scene before the assigned books of my children showed up at my house.  I thought maybe reading them would give me some more insight.  I was right.  However, not much of what I am reading is suitable for children.  I am not one to shy away from a tough topic so I will keep hammering it out. 

I feel compelled to write this story even though it has little market value and most likely would not be something a publisher would jump to publish.  Yet I feel as though it needs to be written, so I will write it.  Where it goes from there is not my issue. 

There is a quote from the book Night by Elie Wiesel that is sinking into my brain. (That is the book that William is reading for school)  The quote says “Books no longer have the power they once did.  Those who kept silent yesterday will remain silent tomorrow.” Those two lines are powerful when considering the topic of which he is writing.  Of course, “those that kept silent” are the ones that did not speak against the atrocities, but in my world I am the one that keeps silent.  Not in the same way the author refers too, but even today in my own life I feel the command of those words.  Subjects for my writing are not nearly as poignant but still there are words to be written.  The question is will I remain silent?  Will I hold my words in or share them? My testimony may not capture the world’s interest but it is important none the less. The stories I write are for entertainment and to inspire deep thought at the same time.  The balance of the two is tricky and I am just learning.  I committed in January to step into my writing.  Now I am trying to carry that out.

They say that we are the sum total of our experiences; that each and everything we go through shapes who we become.  I don’t know that I believe that completely, but it is true that life gives us many opportunities to shape our thoughts and convictions. 

Peter has been fighting a stubborn sinus infection for over a month.  He has had 3 rounds of antibiotics, blood work, a flu test, two strep tests, a mono test and now a CT scan.  We are trying to get to the bottom of why he is not getting better.  The other day, after another round of tests, he asked me a question.  “Mom, can you get cancer in your sinuses?”  That question opened the window to his fears and broke my heart.  It also showed me that even though we as a family survived the battle with cancer, our minds were forever affected.  It is like innocence was robbed from my children, as is evidenced by Peter’s simple question. 

I know, I know…they can’t stay pain free forever.  Something at some point in life will break the bubble of childhood and they will come to the reality that life can be hard and full of heartbreak.  They will learn that life isn’t always fair and that you cannot always predict the outcome.  I think the thing to remember is that life experiences DO shape them…and us.  We cannot undo the fact that I had cancer and that Peter’s mind remembers that fact when there is unexplained illness.  We can however, remember that I survived cancer and that God is faithful.  I think it is how you allow the experience to shape you that is the important thing.  We cannot control what happens to us in life, but we can choose how we will respond to what happens. 

In our case, we could let fear take over every time we get a cold.  Or we could remember that the cancer is gone and that every day is precious.  I will not lie and tell you that I do not think about cancer.  Every time I have a test, it crosses my mind as I wait for the results.  Yet I cannot allow fear to dominate, or I will live a life imprisoned. I cannot let the losses consume me.  I must look back and see the closeness of my family, the intimacy with my God, the care of my husband, and the inspiration in my words…all that came as a direct result of the dreaded C word.  The main blessing I received was a new appreciation for life and realization that every breath is a gift.  We do not know that…I mean really know it until a tragedy strikes.  I am blessed to have a chance to live out this revelation.  Not every one is so blessed. 

Do my experiences shape me?  Yep.  Do they shape my children?  Yep.  We can see this from a simple question escapes their lips to reveal their hearts.  Is it a bad thing for us to change based on our life experiences?  It is only bad if we close our hearts to the process.  After all we are being formed in his image.  The word formed implies that it is an ongoing work. In the midst of a hardship we have to look for his hand.  We have to focus on the good, while still acknowledging the bad. Otherwise, we are pretenders.  It is not our experiences alone that determine who we become.  We must remember he is the potter; we are the clay…so he uses these life experiences to shape us…if we let him.