Moving forward, choosing to see HIM

I'll start by apologizing for not posting this sooner.  Last week was a whirlwind of too much activity.   I have been trying resolutely but unsuccessefully to pick myself up ever since.  I thought I would be rejuvinated by the weekend but instead our hearts, and minds, and prayers are focused on our friends who I should really call family, as they face a mountain of unanswered questions and a test of faith. 
I realized this weekend that it is easier to be strong for myself but I feel weak and uncertain when faced with seeing others hurting.  I realize how helpless my friends and family must have felt these past several months.  I know this weekend I wanted to do anything and everything to help to ease the pain and burden and uncertainty that is engulfing my dear friends. 
I thank you all for bearing the weight of helplessness for me through my journey.   I truly had no idea. 

Our small group(a few are missing from the picture) has become our family.
 We are so blessed to call them our friends. 

So, as I pray for my friends I have had to remind myself that the same truths that held me up are true for everyone.   Our trials and the roads that we travel may be different but our God is Jehovah-Jireh, the Lord who provides. 

Consider it pure joy my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds,
because you know that the testing of your faith develops perserverance.
Perserverance must finish its work, so that you may be mature and complete,
and not lacking anything. 
If any of you lack wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. 
But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt,
because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the ind.
That man should not think he will recieve anything from the Lord;
 he is a double minded man, unstable in all he does.                                         ~James1:2-8

Blessed is the man who perserves under trial, because when he has stood the test,
he will recieve the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.
                                                                                                              ~James 1:12

Last Wednesday Heath and I travelled to Iowa City to meet with Dr. Howe(surgeon/oncologist) to review the pathology and next steps following the surgery.  There was very little anxiety going into this trip, because the afternoon before, my friend and colleague was kind enough to send me a spoiler alert.   Dr. Cheema sent me a note saying "accessory spleen."  Diagnosis: weird girl confirmed. 



Before you shout, "I knew it!" (you know in agreement with the weird girl status), let me tell you the rest of the story.   The most important and exciting words on the path report were, negative for neoplasia or malignancy.  Praise God!  
Dr. Howe, however, was not quite so convinced with the rest of the report.  Specifically the mention of a possible accessory spleen.   He listed all the reasons he didn't believe this was the case.  They all made sense, but most convincing was the fact that there wasn't any evidence in the report to support it.  The rest of the pathology identified necrotic(aka dead) and inflammatory cells.  There was NO identifiable organ tissue to determine the origin of the tumor.  He described the surgery as a little bit on the stomach, a little bit on the pancreas, a little bit on the spleen, a little bit on the adrenal.  It was a puzzle. 

The ambiguity of the tumor, though not malignant,  produces a certain level of discomfort in my kind doctor.   What does that mean?  It means that he is unwilling to say goodbye to me just yet.  It means that for at least the next year, I will have labs and scans and office visits with him to in fact prove or disprove my weirdness.  Someone hand me the easy button please. 

Needless to say, you can imagine the relief and flood of endorphins that comes with such news.  Heath and I celebrated with 'Cindy illegal' food from scratch cupcakery, an americano, and a few moments to just sit and be.  To be people that no longer had this rock to lug around, to be boring again, to not have to think.  I felt lighter, giddy, smiling was easy, and yet at the same time I felt like bursting into tears every few minutes.  I was and still am overwhelmed.  God is good! 

Days like these call for CAKE!

On the way home, I continued to ponder all of the events of the past few months.  I am just in awe of how time after time, after time, God made His hand so obviously known.  Who has a tumor that comes back, DEAD?!?!  I turned to Heath and said, you know just because they can't or won't put God killed it on the path report, doesn't mean it didn't happen.  

So there you have it.  Confessions of a weird girl....

Our present sufferings cannot even be compared
with the coming glory that will be revealed in us.      ~Romans 8:18

Life is GOOD indeed!
Thank you for being the good in my life!

Seeing the CANs among the cannots

Let's get this party started!

Tomorrow it will be two weeks since my surgery. In the time since, I have slept a lot, forgotten much, read two amazingly powerful books, and discovered A LOT of things that I currently cannot do.

We arrived in Iowa City before the sun rose and were greeted with kindness every step of the way.  Believe it or not I actually likened the pre-op experience to being at Disneyworld several times.  Happy faces around every corner as you are shuttled from one waiting area to another.  People dressed in "costume" with masks hiding their true identities, AND as the patient, I even got to ride everywhere.

Disneyworld!
 

Seriously though, I am so thankful for the compassion of my doctors, nurses, anesthesia team, medical assistants, everyone I met during my stay in the hospital was a blessing.   There is huge difference betweeen people who have jobs and people who have a passion for what they do everyday. 

I thank my God upon every remembrance of you.  ~Philippians 1:3(KJV)

To make my great experience even better, after surgery I was transported to my room in the PapaJohn Pavillion.  Now, all of you who know me, even if it is just as an aquaintance, know my love for football.  So,  despite the groggy, post op medicine head, I did indeed ask if Peyton Manning would be making rounds. 

pizza anyone?

The worst part of post op as anyone can imagine is the pain.  I remember lying there confused as to why I had pain in the middle of my chest.  It took a day or so before I realized that I had an incision there. Apparently I checked out when they told me about the incision sites because I was completely surprised.   I ended up with four incisions 1-2 1/2 inches each.  If you connect them I would have a big J from just below my sternum over to my left hip.    They didn't look too awful but their presence made moving a challenge.   I cannot get up. 

Another first for me was a foley catheter.  Convenient contraption for my current state of not wanting to move for the pain.  I was however anticipating like Christmas, bidding the bag ba-bye.  I was excited to get up and tour my semi private bath.   Funny thing though, something that had been automatically occuring since birth with little to know thought suddenly became a puzzle.  Which muscles do you contract? Which ones relax? There are a lot of muscles, this could take some time, and it did.   I cannot pee.

I saw small improvements and I still see them with each passing day.  When Dr. Howe came to see me Wednesday evening, he mentioned how well I was doing and that I would probably get to go home on Thursday instead of Friday.  I smiled and then as soon as he left the room, filled with panic I cried.  I had to go to elaborate acrobatics to get myself out of the hospital bed, how in the world was I ever going to be able to function without my nurses, and my trusty  green dilaudid button.   I cannot go home.

Thursday morning came and I was embracing it with a can-do attitude.  I would go be going home and I'm gonna be fine, maybe.... Goodbye Iowa City, hello hour long car ride.  I am so thankful to my  friend Tami and little Owen for coming to take me home, but I was dreading the trip.  Afterall, every trip on this journey so far has included me hanging out of a car door puking on the side of the road.  The incentive spirometer I had to breath into was painful enough I didn't even want to imagine what the force of vomiting would feel like.  We set off toward home and in an effort to be positive I  was thankful that at least I had a bucket this time. 
I thought it was going smoothly and then it started, the heaving, no hurling, just heaving.  It was so painful that I think I just refused to let it happen.  I cannot puke.

I did make it home and it felt like I was asleep for days.  I don't remember much of that first day or so at home.  I do know that my little sister Jen and my niece Bethany were here and did a great job loving my kids and getting them to their activities.  They also filled my freezer with lots of meals.  Bethany took on the ultimate challenge of trying to keep the dining room table cleaned off.   I'm pretty sure I heard her say it cannot be done.  

Sleepy Dwarf

Being home has it's share of challenges.  A lot of them are mental.  My typical day starts at 5am and from there I go until I stop usually after the kids are in bed.  I love my life and our routine, and in my mind I am more than ready to get back at it.  There seems to be a disconnect between my brain and my body however.   The simplest tasks seem to take so much energy.  One morning I broke out into a sweat just loading the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher.  One week post-op I did the unthinkable.  After waking up on the couch and seeing the layer of dog hair on my floor and  on my son, I decided to vacuum.   BIG mistake! HUGE!  Who knew vacuuming could be such an intense workout?!?!  I cannot work.

I have spent the past two weeks struggling to do tasks that are pretty ordinary.  I have felt weak and frustrated one moment and then incredibly grateful the next.  Grateful that despite a list of a few canNOTs, there is an endless list of CANs. 

I do not even know where to begin the list of things that I CAN do.  I can open my eyes and see the beautiful world around me.  I can enjoy hugs from my kids and Jack and Morgan arguing over who gets to snuggle closer to my side.  I can rest peacefully knowing that my ever faithful husband is doing his best to keep the house in order.  I can shower and put on makeup and sport the appearance of having it all together.  I can sit and stew about what is hard, or I can realize that my hard is hardly hard at all.  Like Dr. Seuss said, "you're in pretty good shape for the shape that you're in."  I am blessed, I am thankful, and I CAN do most anything. 

A few days ago I came across a passage in 2 Corinthians 12:8-10 that really spoke to me. 
     Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me.  But he(Jesus) said to me, "my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."
     Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses so that Christ's power may rest on me. 
     That is why for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. 
     For when I am weak, then I AM STRONG. 

Over the past two weeks I have come to realize that all of us struggle.  Those struggles come in all different colors, shapes and sizes.  The solutions may be quick and easy or painful and drawn out.  Regardless of the details unique to each of us, we all face hard in our lives.  One of the books I have read over the past two weeks, was The Hardest Peace by Kara Tippetts.  I cannot imagine anyone's hard being harder than hers, and yet she ministers to each reader, seeking to ease their burden in the truth's of God's indescribable love.

"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I CAN take the next thing that comes along.'"          ~Eleanor Roosevelt

I challenge you in your hard places to find the CANs among the cannots, and know that you are not alone. 

 

 

This Wednesday I will return to Iowa City.  Once again I will sit in the waiting room of the cancer clinic.  Once again I have an appointment with and oncologist.  Once again I am sure those words, sights, and sounds will cause fear and anxiety to creep in.  But I intend to go in with Deuteronomy 31:6 in mind.   No matter what the results are, I am prepared to move forward with the assurance that God is with us, and HE CAN do the impossible. 

Be strong and courageous. 

Do not be afraid or terrified because of them,

   for the Lord our God goes WITH you;

He will never leave you nor forsake you. 

                   ~Deuteronomy 31:6

 

 

 

This is the day that the Lord has made let us rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24

Good surgery morning to everyone! I have no idea what this blog post is going to contain. I have tried to write it for the past week and every time I do, I encounter block after block even though I have all of this "stuff" I think I need to say. Anyway the big reason I don't blog very frequently is because I have this perfection complex and idea in my head that it has to be of a certain quality, or style, or in a specific timeline. Through this journey of the past two months, I have worked really hard on letting go of that need to have things only go a certain way. Life certainly doesn't abide by those rules...

So last night after just not being able to write, and actually being tired I went to bed a t 9:30. I was annoyed with myself for not posting something and so I prayed. I asked God to wake me up at 2 if I really was supposed to get something out there. So around 2:20 I was wide awake and here I am now.

Initially I was going to write about how I cut off my hair and donated it. When my dad died over 5 years ago, I came up with two things that I could do to feel like I made a difference in the life of a cancer patient. Those two things were, running a race, and growing my hair so another could have it. I ran the race, actually I've run a lot of races. How did that make a difference? Yes some of those races were to raise money for different types of cancer, but I hardly believe my $30 went very far. No, running the races was my way of taking what I had recieved as a truth(you just cannot run distance), and saying "bite me!" Okay maybe not those specific words, but to be able to get out there and do it, I proved to myself that YES, I CAN!  I want every person that is dealt the impossible to boldy proclaim IT IS POSSIBLE! 

I can do all things through Christ who gives me stregnth. Philippians 4:13

So next comes the hair. I have never been one to have long hair, and once I decided to grow it I actually had it cut a few times only to start all over again. It wasn't quick, but I eventually had enough to donate. The problem however was that I was now very much attached to it. I liked my long hair. It was easy. It was pretty and made me feel that way. I didn't really need to give it away, and so I didn't. It has been long enough for more than 6 months, and I decided I'm gonna keep it. THEN...all of my tumor drama started. I have recieved so much in so many different ways. People I know and don't know are making sacrifices for me. I suddenly became very convicted to donate the hair. I wanted to, I needed to give back. My only other dilemma was when do I do it. Before or after surgery? I figured I didn't know when I would be able to drive myself or have someone take me, so I may as well get 'er done. Mini makeover = Happy Birthday to me!

My alarm just went off so I need to finish up here and head down the road to Iowa City, but I wanted to share just one more thing. Over the past two months, people have questioned how I do not freak out, stay so positive, be so confident that it is all ok, and so on and so on. My answer is that it is not me, it is HIM. My God, our God, and given me such a peace and a the absolute knowledge that I have indeed recieved His healing. That healing may not look like what you would expect, but He has indeed healed my body, spirit, and mind in so many ways. I find myself not knowing or being able to find the words to describe it. I feel like people hear me and think "she's on of those crazy Jesus freaks," and they may, but I wouldn't give Him up for anything in this world. I have example after example of how God has proven(not that He had to) his existence to me through all of this. Things that cannot be explained, or simply called coincidence. I want to share with you just one instance.

All of you know that I hoped for the surgery to occur before the new year for giant deductible sized reasons, but that was not the plan, and I know it will all work out. Shortly before the new year, on December 29th I recieved an email from my friend Cara in regards to a ministry she works for that I have had the privilege of being served by. The email said, we have an opening on Friday January 9th for a freedom session would you be able to come in? I knew instantly that this was God telling me the surgery date was not going to be before the end of the year, and that there was one more thing I needed to do.

I went to Wellsprings last Friday, but prior to this I had been praying for Dr. Howe and the surgery. When I would pray, I felt convicted to pray specifically for his HANDS.  After I would pray I would have the same thought in my head, and it was, "I have ORCHESTRATED it all."

As we began in prayer on Friday, one of the team members shared a vision that he had about me. He said that he could see the operating room. He saw me lying on my side(which is the position I will be in) He saw the surgeon, and he saw Jesus. Not His face though, just his HANDS. He said that Jesus placed his HANDS over the surgeon's hands and they became one. He said he saw angels surrounding the scene and described it as a beautiful ORCHESTRA of song. I was utterly amazed at the words that he used, and knew full well that God had given him those words to show me that HE hears my prayers. It was like getting a great big hug or a fist bump from my heavenly Father. My heart is full.

That is my story, and I need to go get ready to leave now.  I am so grateful for all who have met me along the way.  I look at you as answered prayers.   Here is a prayer my friend Cara shared with me last night.   

1You have searched me, Lord, and you know me.
2You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.
4Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely.
5You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me.
6Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.
7Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
8If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, 

you are there.
9If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
11If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,”
12even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
13For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.
17How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I AM STILL WITH YOU.

Psalm 139: 1-18 (NIV)

Immanuel, God with us