Groomed Trails

Three weeks ago today, I had surgery. In just over a week, chemo begins. Today, actually this whole week, is a wonderful break from appointments, while still in holiday relaxation mode. Jon and Erika and I got to the Lake Elmo trails before dusk today for a short but very sweet ski. Nothing like fresh snow and fresh air. Nothing.

The groomed trails seem an apt visual for the journey ahead. Just step into the tracks and start moving. I have already been touched by countless kind gestures from those who've broken trail before me and from intentional, thoughtful, and compassionate professionals who make each step do-able. Well-groomed trails.

As I cautiously skied down one trail's hill in the vanishing light tonight, I caught myself tensing and relaxed my knees. Absorbing the trail bumps with bent knees keeps me upright most of the time. Going to point my skis forward, try to relax to absorb any bumps, and opt outside as often as I can.

 

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TMI 3

Started Christmas Eve Day bright and early at Woodwinds for a CT scan, followed by an echocardiogram. In one of the many times angels have appeared recently, I lay on the CT scanner waiting for the nurse to take care of the IV. Looked up to a friendly hello, and there was Amy from church. Comforting to get good care from a friendly soul, and to get a peek into her work world.

Good friend, Marie, was the angel who got up very early to chat me through the prep/waiting time.

The CT scan, as I understand it, was primarily to rule out any spread of the cancer, which it did. Check. A few other things appeared in the scan results, including what might be a cyst in the liver area, and a thyroid cyst or nodule. Incidental is the word I think the oncologist used. Looks like I 'get to' have another ultrasound to check out the thyroid situation. Ruling-things-out is what that's about. Thankful for good insurance and a wealth of medical resources close to home.

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There’s Always a Story

Erika and I stopped at the St. Olaf Bookstore on our way to pick up Jer and his carload of laundry today. The half-price book cart outside the shop always gets a glance. Today, book after book about breast cancer. I guess I’m grateful there isn’t much market for these titles on campus. My lucky day. Finding some welcome humor in the poorly titled A Cup of Comfort for Breast  Cancer Survivors . .

TMI 2

Met with the surgeon today for a post-surgery check and to hear, in another doctor’s words, the report the oncologist shared Monday, from last week’s surgery. What I understand is ~

– Going into surgery, tests indicated three carcinomas – invasive ductal carcinoma and ductal carcinoma in situ on the right, and invasive mammary on the left. Invasive was the scary word to me, as it meant spreading beyond a duct or specified area.

– Post surgery we know there was also ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS) on the left and that is what meant the margins weren’t clear. So, after the primary, initial six rounds of chemotherapy, I will most likely have another surgery to remove any areas related to the DCIS. Genetic testing in the meantime will help make decisions related to the scope of that surgery, depending on what the test reveals about likelihood of recurrence. 

– Have been to chemo class (I used to love school . . .) and have appointments for a pre-chemo EKG and CT scan. Filling out paperwork on whatever history I have for the genetic testing, and then wait until 1/8 for treatments to begin.

– Because you just have to keep laughing . . . and this struck me as funny: Just before surgery, the anesthesiologist was going through the lists again – diabetes, smoker, asthma, etc, etc, – to which I answered no again and again. “You’re very healthy, aren’t you?” Yeah, I said to myself, just cancer. 😉

Cheers to the day when I can say no to that too!

Pondering

Thank you to Renovare friends* who shared this painting during Advent. It is so unlike many of the images of the manger that adorn mantles, Christmas cards, and sanctuaries. In the groups that have shared this picture online, reactions have ranged from sadness and tears, to thoughtful unpacking of the story's timeline, to quips . . . which of course is the power of art, and the nature of individual responses to it.

by Gari Melcher

On the most basic level, I am reminded of the overwhelming feelings after any baby is born ~ exhaustion, elation, overwhelming responsibility, awe, isolation, questions, love. My time in the Renovare Spiritual Formation Institute, and my current entry into a time of post-surgery healing and learning about cancer treatments, have each raised up the value of solitude. In this world of doing and accomplishing, it is so easy, for me anyway, to neglect time of just being, and time of quiet with Jesus. This painting brings to life for me a time of solitude with the infant savior in a way I have never pondered before. Before any arrive to worship, to adore, or just to gawk or say they were there, Mary and Joseph are alone with him. With their raw emotions or exhaustion or fear or questions, each simply is, in the presence of Emmanuel. My own forced rest in the midst of December, draws me to this painting, and while it comes with its own pain or questions or fears, it also is rich with quiet and peace. Pondering needs time or space or quiet. I find all three in this painting. Silent night, holy night. TIme before, and for, whatever journey lies ahead.

*Keith, thank you!

 

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TMI 1

I have a treatment plan. Many people, especially those who’ve been down this road, have commented that I will feel less anxiety when a plan is in place, and I am so thankful to the many encouragers who’ve already been so generous with their stories, their experiences, prayers, meals, etc. Wow. Graced with amazing support.

Here’s the TMI . . . the right side is stage 1a and the shorthand info is ER + / Her2- The left side is stage IIb but is ER – / Her2+

Because a left lymph node also tested positive for cancer and the margins were not clear, I’ll begin with chemo treatments January 8. Every three weeks for 6 cycles, then continuing on for the remainder of a year with herceptin alone.

A CT scan and genetic testing will help us determine whether additional surgery may be needed after chemo. There may be radiation after the initial 6 cycles of chemo, depending on whether future surgeries are scheduled or not.

Learning a new vocabulary and even attending a chemo class this week. Feeling grateful and excited* to have chemo begin after Christmas, after New Year’s, after more healing time, and after the kids’ college break. (*excited about the after part. Less freaked out about the rest . . .)

 

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The ironies of social media

I do enjoy writing, posting, scribbling, etc. Yet in recent days, the energy or mental clarity isn’t always there. And at the same time as a Facebook essay can spark online reunions or begin long dormant conversations, this quick and easy communication suddenly makes the ‘get back to ___’ list grow faster than I hope cancer cells do. So as much as I would like to write handwritten cards, thoughtfilled posts, or at least somewhat coherent messages, I am trying to take a break from ‘shoulds’ and minimize the to do lists that dance round my times of rest. So this may be the place for updates, if you are interested, until we can chat in person, or in some online space. I truly treasure the overflowing expressions of kindness, love, prayer, and support. Whatever calm and peace and hope I am enjoying is thanks to that and a deep trust in God.

Posts titled TMI will contain the medical details I have trouble remembering, or would just as soon not think about 🙂  Should, scratch that . . . I expect to learn more tomorrow about the way forward and can share TMI then.

Or maybe I will just ask Pete to blog for me 🙂

 

 

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A month ago

About a month ago, I visited My Happy Place, one of those destination shops where a group of women find all manner of decor for home or self. Enjoying a Friday afternoon with friends, I bought a necklace with the phrase enjoy the journey. Soon after, I gave time to preparing a Sunday message about hope for the future, a message that needed to be rewritten as Paris reeled in the midst of a horrific attack. And I noticed a lump. Oh, a lot can change in a month. How eager am I to wear that necklace now?

Phrases like my happy place, enjoy the  journey and hope for the future, sure take on new layers of meaning for me, after the unexpected turns in recent days. Happy places can change, the journey is suddenly not the one I set out on, and hope for the future is increasingly filled with prayers for peace. I am getting to explore that peace that passes all understanding ~ and thankful to so many who are offering their presence in the journey.