St Polycarp (aka: things only I am interested in - most likely)

Today is the feast of the Archangels, which I love (pray for me, Raphael - see the book of Tobit)...but we also celebrate St Polycarp today...and ancient people fascinate me (see the Title and stop reading if your eyelids just got heavy :)

St Polycarp was a disciple of the Apostle John. He was the Bishop of Smyrna (now a city in Turkey) in the late 100's. This was when the Emperor Trajan was taking over most of Europe; when the Roman Empire was at its greatest (60 million people); when Trajan died and Hadrian took over - and started building his wall; when Marcus Aurelius was born... this was when Polycarp was helping decide when Easter would be celebrated and he was writing to the Philippians (the Biblical letter people)...Polycarp was burned to death for following Christ when he was 86...His is one of the earliest Christian writings that are still preserved. Today, in the Office, I read some of his letter to those crazy Philippians :)

"Many desire to come into the joy [of believing in Jesus], knowing that you are saved by grace, not by works, - not by your actions but by the will of God through Jesus Christ... Leave aside empty vanities (me) and vulgar error, believing in him who raised up our Lord Jesus Christ from the dead (God)...Do not judge, that you may not be judged; forgive and you will be forgiven; be merciful and you will receive mercy. For whatever you measure out to other people will be measured out to you also..." 

Isn't that still just great advice? 1,900 years later. Seriously.

And I finish with a prayer sung by many Catholics every Sunday (written in the 300's), the Te Deum:

"Keep us today, Lord, from all sin; have mercy on us, Lord, have mercy. Lord, show us your love and mercy; for we put our trust in you. In you, Lord, is our hope; and we shall never hope in vain."

Still true. Still my prayer (1600 years later).

Dang...

Happy Saturdays

It's a happy Saturday here after nearly a week of more difficult chemo side-effects. I think I've hit the space where this s@#* gets real (ha).  

Chemotherapy itself is ok. It's five hours and three days of "the pump"; but there is no real pain that comes during the treatment. I will say that the IV bag of Benadryl pretty much kicks me into a semi-coma...but that's not pain. It's the 5 - now 7 - days after that are my real struggle. It's getting colder here in Colorado (which is intensely beautiful in itself) so my extremities (now including my nose, face, fingers, and feet) tingle painfully with every drop of degree or the blowing wind. I love the fall. I love everything about it...but right now, my body does not. 

More difficult this week has been dehydration. I have the glamorous gift to be able to see all of my bodily output through my colostomy bag (gross-ness alert). Ok, I can't see pee but I think I'm ok with that. I can, however, see my #2's and their consistency. (Spoiler that I'm writing this in all humility because it's a part of cancer that is seriously hard and also embarrassing...and I firmly believe that if I'm going to write the good, I'm going to share the bad too. But skip this if poop talk isn't your thing. Remember that I have 3 boys, so it's de regueur around here). From last Thursday on, my bag has been 100% watery substance. It's not "deadly" but it's not good. 

Along with this has been intense dehydration head aches (that I recognize from hang-overs, ironically) and a general nausea that is similar to morning sickness or stomach flu. It's been a fun week. I'll share all of this with my oncologist when I have my next chemo treatment (this Thurs). But mentally, I hate to even think past Wednesdays, so I'm ok waiting to hear what exciting drug I'll need to take to help all of this next time. 

I have "miracle" days and I have "dark Valley" days. This past Thursday, I felt a good deal better and I felt prayers and hope pull me from the Valley. Seriously, it was like walking on a path out of dark woods into an open, sunny space. 

Friday school pick-up with H reading "Black Beauty," which he loves. 

D had a Friday field trip/Retreat at the Mother Cabrini Shrine 

Friday, our sweet friend, Fr. Nathan Cromly came for dinner and the boys told fart jokes and did bad magic tricks and we all laughed. 

This happy Saturday, we had soccer and flag football and D had some board-game-buddies over to kill each other with figurines like this: 

I don't want to leave out C. These are some shots from a family party last week. I need to take my phone to soccer. 

Just for fun.

I've read a beautiful blog post that explains so fully how I feel lately. It is written by a man named Jim Tierney who is battling brain cancer. His wife (Catholic-famous blogger Kendra Tierney) is due anytime with their 10th baby. It's not too long of a post, but it's beautiful. Click Here to read it (mom).
The post is about detachment and how he struggles with Cancer and possibly leaving his beautiful life and family.

Always now, my response will be the same. I turn to God and ask what He says about it:

"...When she calls to me, I will answer her; 

I will be with her in trouble, 

I will rescue her and honor her

With long life I will satisfy her

and show her my salvation..." 

Ps 91: 15 & 16 (changed pronouns :)

Jesus, I trust in You. Salve Regina.

Padre Pio

Yesterday (9/23) was the feast day (the day Catholics celebrate the death/birth into eternal life) of Saint Pio of Pietrelcina. Most people know him by the name of "Padre Pio."

Here's a bit on his life (I promise there is a point):

Padre Pio (25 May 1887 - 23 September 1968), was a humble Capuchin priest who lived the last 50 years of his life in San Giovanni Rotondo, Italy, at Our Lady of Grace Friary. He was blessed by God in many wonderful and mysterious ways; The most dramatic was the stigmata and he bore these wounds of Christ for fifty years.

Among his other gifts were perfume, bilocation, prophecy, conversion, reading of souls, and miraculous cures. People are still being cured through his intercession in ways that cannot be explained by medicine or science.

More important, if less spectacular, are the spiritual healings that take place in all parts of the world. Saint Pio is a powerful intercessor.

 There are a lot of pictures and some video of Padre Pio as well as numerous medical studies of the wounds of Christ he bore on his hands, feet, and (after his death they found out) his back.

The point for my blog was that I was praying to Padre Pio all day yesterday to pray for my healing. My mom also loves Padre Pio, so I'm sure I was on her list as well yesterday. I went to Mass and just kept telling him I know he was praying for me.

And back on the crazy-train, a good friend of mine dropped off dinner for our family (it was really good, K! Pulled pork is a major favorite). She is also Catholic, and included a little vial of oil with the note to "spread it all over" (and other funny things).

Here's the note that was around the oil:

The best part of this story is that I immediately texted Kate and asked if she knew it was Padre Pio's feast day. She wrote that she had no idea. Actually, she wrote: "Are you kidding?! It's a sign. Grease up tonight!! I seriously had no idea." 

That, my friends, is how my life is going right now. 

Proverbs 4:20-22 "...be attentive to my words, incline your ear to my sayings. Let them not escape from your sight; keep them within your heart. For they are life to she who finds them, and healing to all her flesh." 

Padre Pio, pray for us. Pray for all of the sick...especially those we love so much. 

Amen. 

Post-Chemo #5 & Psalm 91

I'm amazed when I see it's been four days since my last post.

On a practical note, this last chemo has left me feeling more sick. My fingers are constantly prickly now (it's a bit colder here in general). The bottoms of my feet are drying and I'm rubbing lotion on them every few hours to keep them from cracking (more glamour here!) I seriously struggle the most with the sickness and lack of energy. I'm guessing every cancer patient gets frustrated when he or she just wants to be who they are  - just wants to continue to live the life they had before. This has been (and continues to be) my greatest struggle.

I have been really blessed by an abundance of notes and messages and texts from friends. I even had a friend offer up a 5K race for me (that she was not interested in running) and it left me in tears because I feel so cared for by so many people. So many prayers, such incredible sacrifices, so much love...This has been my greatest gift in the cancer.

I did have an amazing encounter I'll probably write about a different time.  Long story short is that I continue to have miraculous things happen that I constantly refer to as "weird." In all truth, I am not one of those people who walks around thinking everything is a supernatural statement. I grow uncomfortable with making everything "spiritual." I'm explaining this because I have realized something in all of this cancer/healing business:

I have made God very small.

I have been praying in that way my kids ask for candy and Slurpees after school, "Do you think we could get something since we were so good? It's been a really long day and we worked hard. Just a small Slurpee, pleeeeeease?"

I've been afraid to cross over to the crazy side of the fence where the people who really trust live. Those people everyone rolls their eyes at. That lady who says, "God will take care of it" and there are at least 10 smirks (1 from me). The Mother Teresa prayer-people who tell the story where "mother Teresa had no milk for the poor and she asked Jesus to take care of it and there was a mechanical accident and they had to cancel all of the public schools that day and the schools sent the milk to Mother Teresa." I know I'm not Mother Teresa, so somewhere in this cancer, I stopped asking for milk and trusting that God would send it.

I've been saying, "If you want me to go to heaven, I'll be ok ...but I'd rather stay."

I realized last Tuesday night that this is not a prayer. This is me telling God that if He doesn't want to take care of it, I'll be ok (I'm such a giver). I have made God smaller than my sickness. But if I believe in the Bible and what He's said (and I try), there are too many places where it says He doesn't want people to be sick. He just wants people to trust Him and love Him.

So, I am trusting that He wants to heal me. Crazy-wack-a-doo as that can sound, I am now standing with the "God will take care of it" lady. I believe that I need to heal some things in my heart and soul and that this will help (counseling). I'll keep taking medicine/chemo and eating the best way I can (just practical) and I will tell God that He needs to take the cancer (all 4 stages of it) since I'm "never supposed to be free from cancer."

I'm not going to let God be small in my life anymore. I'm not going to pretend He's not there just so people don't think I'm crazy.

I am going to read Psalm 91 with my husband and children every night:

"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High,
who abides in the shadow of the Almighty,
will say to the Lord, 'My refuge and my fortress:
my God, in whom I trust.'
For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler
and from the deadly pestilence..." (that's me, right there).

Peace Out.
Jesus, I trust in You.

"Cancer is a Marathon, not a sprint"

I had a sweet reminder from my dearest (and longest consistent, at this point) friend, Tom. He was writing to me after the scans. He said, "Battling cancer is a marathon not a sprint...pace yourself and prepare for this to take longer than you think..." I know people have said words like that before, but it means so much coming from another cancer survivor - a cancer survivor who knows me - who has known me since I was 14 years old (the same age as my D). A man who knows that I do not normally take life with pause and patience (or anything with patience, let's be honest).

I do have sincere emotional struggles, but it's not my nature to share them in such a public forum. I do want everyone to know (who might wonder) that I am seeing both a counselor and a spiritual director (more like 2 spiritual directors) during this time. We were waiting on the first scans to know what direction to take for both physical healing but also spiritual and emotional healing...because these are all very closely related. I am currently building a "team" of prayer warriors and medical professionals who have my shared vision of complete and total healing from this cancer. Because the current medical thought is that I can never be totally "cured" of cancer after being classified as stage 4 and that I'll be on chemo for the rest of my life...

I'll share little bits of this as I go along because I believe with my whole heart that what God really desires is for me to be healed as a total person. That He has a plan that far exceeds anything anyone (including myself) has in store for me. One of my spiritual directors told me to keep in mind that "'God is your Primary Care Physician', He's the only one who truly knows what is possible and necessary for your healing."

I believe that God's Mercy and Love are so much greater than any of my fears. All I want is for everyone to know how much God loves them. That He is real. That all he wants is for people to fall in love with Him. That all of our postmodern angst and cynicism is a wall we've created to keep ourselves from who we are truly meant to be. If this cancer can be the sign that the walls can fall - I will embrace every. long. moment. And when my "glass-always-full writing style" seems to be too much or not real, feel free to text or email or call and I'll cry with you within seconds. Because I normally turn all of my Darkness over to God (or poor Shawn) but I am not getting out of all of this without walking through that Valley too.

Can't part without words that are now my life's goal from St. Maria Faustina (the Divine Mercy Saint):  "582. The interior of my soul is like a large and magnificent world in which God and I live. Except for God, no one is allowed there." (since I'm married, Shawn will always be allowed, of course and I'm happy to share my intimacy with God with him too).

A fuzzy picture of Tom and I when we were seniors in high school (nice hair, I know)

 The Image of Divine Mercy that St Faustina had in a vision. Jesus' heart is radiating his Mercy for the world. The bottom says, "Jesus I trust in You." 

Because no post can end without me being a Princess, I wanted to post of picture because I'm so grateful to still have my hair (see? Still totally vain). 

PET Scan results #2

Officially, this is PET scan #2 (since the first was when I was in the hospital to find all of the stuff in the first place).

    Just a general explanation that PET scans test for how reactive certain places on the body are to radioactive glucose. More reactive means that the cancer is more active. Less reactive means that the cancer cells are dying. Here are my non-scientifically explained results (science-types please email or text for specifics) :

1. We met with my doctor's PA (physician's assistant) to go over the results, but my doctor poked her head in and said, "Did you get the phone call that your scans were very good?" (I didn't, but I'm hard to reach if I don't recognize the number).  Dr NP was obviously happy and excited about the scans. We were happy to hear her say, "Very good." 
2. My rectal tumor has shrunk by 1/2 
3. The spots in my liver are gone/dead/not reacting to glucose (so not there)
4. All of the affected spots on my lymph nodes are shrinking and seem to be dying
5. There are two spots on my hip/pelvic area that are most likely cancer but could also be bone repairing itself if the cancer that was in them is dying or has died. This was seen as positive. I'll have an MRI next week to confirm/figure it out. 
6. I will definitely still have 8 more rounds of chemo every two weeks on Thursday beginning this Thursday (so until December). 12 rounds of chemo is standard of first round care for Stage 4 cancer.  

In a small, hopeful nutshell, I have had a "phenomenal" response to the first 4 rounds of chemo. (I'll also do a future post on the alternative things I am doing that could be helping). 

Thank you for caring how I'm doing. Thank you for reading this. 

Shawn and I realize now that we are "winning the battle but lots of war left" (Quote from Shawn). 

Thank you for praying. I am so grateful. 

Embracing the will of God as what's best. 

 

Pre-result thoughts

No news until tonight...(just in case you're hoping). But thanks for checking in!! I promise to post after we meet with my doctor at 1:30pm (Mountain Time USA)

I just wanted to share what I was reading last night because it shapes how I feel about any results today. Before bed, I was reading Uniformity with God's Will (written by my new dear friend, St Alphonsus Liguori) which was a gift from my friend, Lauren (hi, sweet lady!).

Just a collection of quotations with a promise that the next post will be all results :)

God Wills our Good. 

God wills only our good; God loves us more than anybody else can or does love us. His will is that no one should lose his soul, that everything should save and sanctify [the] soul: 'Not willing that any should perish, but that all should return...' (2 Peter 3:9). 'This is the will of God, your sanctification.' (1 Thess 4:3). God has made the attainment of our happiness, his glory. Since he is by his nature infinite goodness...God has a supreme desire to make us sharers of his goods and of his happiness. If then he sends us suffering in this life, it is for our own good: 'All things work together for the good.' (Romans 8:28)

... Let us then abandon everything to God's good pleasure, because being infinitely wise, he knows what is best for us; and being all-good and all-loving -- having given his life for us -- he wills what is best for us...

...Let us say: 'Lord, I wish neither to be well nor to remain sick; I want only what you will.'...still and all, when our sufferings are excessive, it is not wrong to let our friends know what we are enduring, also to ask God to free us from our sufferings...

...there is no better way to serve God than cheerfully to embrace his holy will.

I do not always "cheerfully embrace" all of this, but I do believe God is all-good and loves me. If I could explain how much good has come out of this dumb cancer already...I wanted to write this before we get any results because I need everyone to know that I (and begrudgingly, my sweet Shawn), will embrace the results as God's Good Will for me and our family.

And in the famous words of Bob Marley:

Don’t worry’ bout a thing -
‘Cuz every little thing gonna be alright...

...And nobody's gotta worry 'bout nothing
Don't go hittin' that panic button
It ain't worth spilling your drink
Everything's gonna be alright

It really isn't worth spilling your drink ;) 

No news today!

Just a quick update that there is no new news today!

We had a very busy weekend and I think we're just holding our breath until tomorrow. We'll meet with my oncologist (cancer doctor) to go over the PET scan and get a better plan of what is to come. Shawn is loaded down with articles and information and questions, so good luck to her!! (detail oriented as only engineers can be).

I am feeling good - because I'm 11 days out from the last chemo session. I love these last few days before it begins again.

Here are a few ridiculous (and some just cute) pictures from the weekend.
Niece (1) and Nephew (3) birthday party was a blast!!

I'll have a bit more to update tonight...but I'm off to pick up (still a gift!)

Scans Today #1

Today, I will have my first testing to see how the chemotherapy is working. We won't know the results until Tuesday of next week (9/17).  I just put this on here so that no one is waiting to read the results on the blog until then.

I have "Genetic counseling" at 11am (Mountain Time). This involves a blood test and will go over three major factors:

• inherited risks (which don't really apply to me since I already have it, but will help family members know) 
• diagnostic and treatment options (what treatments might be open to me in the future if I need them)
• prevention of future cancers if I have a predisposition. 

I'm honestly not hoping for much from the genetic counseling since we have a lot of information just from my biopsy report. But it will be nice to know if the counselor has some new information or options for me. 

My PET SCAN is at 1:00pm (Mountain). They are much more modern than the movie/TV show PET scans seem to be. Basically, the technician will inject glucose into my port (much easier than a vein) and the radioactive dye will race through my body. Then, I am put through a machine that looks like this: 

and it's not really claustrophobia-inducing (like they used to be). I basically closed my eyes and said the Rosary last time and it was over (about 20 minutes). My entire body will be scanned and there will be an image similar to this (this is not me, it's from the internet): 

In the PET scan results above, the person probably has lung or throat cancer. In my past scans, my liver has two little spots and my tumor is in my rectum (so lower than these). I also had enlarged lymph nodes, my hip lit up and I had some "wait and see" places. Welcome back to Bio 101!! Often, things like infections or injuries will light up as well, so there is a little bit of investigating that needs to go into reading a PET scan. Best result is nothing lighting up. If they can't find anything, then the chemo is working amazingly well. But, any shrinking of previous spots is good too...

All I can say is that I'm totally at peace about it. I think God is protecting my mind and heart because I am authentically OK. I am not sure how Shawn is...except that he's VERY hopeful. D is staying home from school today because he's actually taking it the hardest. You can imagine how sensitive teen boys are about their moms; and he woke up pretty nervous for me. He could use some prayers today, I think. Thank you in advance. C and H are brilliantly clueless and off to school in a rush, and that bit of normalcy calms and strengthens me. 

And I woke up to this reading sent from Betsy (which was in the Magnificat prayer book today): 

Everyone reading this blog, my sweet husband, Betsy, my mom and dad, our neighbors, the friends and family sending texts and love, all of our meal train servants, our St Mary community, all of the priests and religious praying (Fr Nathan! Sr Megan!! The DCJM), St Mother Teresa, St Alphonsus Liguori, St Maria Faustina, Julia Greeley, Bl Frassati, Bridgie Sullivan...my cloud of witnesses is great and more than a blessing that helps us to "hold firm and take heart." I'll be sure to update if we hear anything. 

Jesus, I surrender everything to you, take care of everything. 

Mini-miracles with Pandora

Pandora is a "music streaming" site (all of this info is for my mother, whom I love). That means, I have an app on my phone that I can click and I can choose a theme or a musician and the app (Pandora) will play a random list of songs either from the artist I choose or with the same basic "vibe."

Some people like a similar service known as "Spotify" (I'm sure there are others, but I'm old). I just started with Pandora and I understand it, so that's my go-to music service. Also, I am nearly 50 and I don't care.

I explain all of this because I had some mini-miracles (how I describe stuff that seems amazing and "just.too.much.of.a.coincidence." but really only applies to me).

The other day, Shawn and I were listing to Pandora using the artist "Chris Stapleton" who is one of our favorite folky-rock-country musicians. Shawn and I saw him at RedRocks a few years ago and it was really one of my favorite concerts ever. A very special part of the show was that his wife, Morgane, preforms and writes with him. Chris and Morgane sang the song, "You are my sunshine" and it was very moving and filled with obvious love between the two. I linked to the song a few posts back (pre-chemo#4 Sept 4th) because the song had randomly come on Pandora while Shawn and I were talking about some intense things...the song took on a very profound meaning at that moment.

Well...the next day, Betsy (my friend) and aunt of Bridgette Sullivan (who I'm asking for prayers for me), wrote to tell me that "You are My Sunshine" was one of Bridgie's favorite songs. Betsy wrote:

[Bridge] had a ton of versions of it in stuffed animals, apps and other baby toys.

Because I didn't know that, I really think it was Bridge reaching out to me from heaven...helping me because she knew how much the chemo treatments are getting to me mentally.

Then, this morning, I was praying (in my usual way with adoration on my iPad and Pandora worship music on my iPhone) on the "Lauren Daigle" station. I was just talking to Jesus about some things...mainly how tired I am this time and how I will embrace all of this because I know God loves me...

and then "You are my sunshine" came on....by someone named Jasmine Thompson...

And I just felt like Bridgie was there. Telling me it will be ok and that she knows a thing or two about earthly suffering but that something so much better is waiting...

I'm not sure if the video will work...but this is Bridge. 

My friend, the 3 day 5FU pump

Just a quick post on my friend, the 3 day 5FU (aka: Fluoroucil) pump. For the two days after my initial chemo, I wear this little pump attached to my port (a surgically implanted injection-site in my left shoulder/clavical area.) It doesn't hurt me physically. It's awkward and beeps sometimes (and makes that swoosh sound whenever it pumps the chemo into me).  It's better than lying in a hospital bed somewhere for 2 days (which I'm sure was the old way to do this). We assume that the Fluoroucil must be a powerful drug because it needs to be administered more slowly. I'm pretty sure that this drug is the one that gives me the most side effects because I feel so much better once Shawn removes it every Saturday. 

I carry the pump in a pouch that is basically like a little purse on my left side. This is the first chemo treatment where I've left the house with the pump attached (thank you, swim team practice & a flag football game). Most people don't notice the pump at all...just the long tube attached to it that mysteriously disappears into my shirt. 

The main side effect through all of this is my often-mentioned cold sensitivity (almost entirely in my fingertips). For that, I have taken to wearing these high fashion winter gloves in order to touch anything from the fridge or freezer. The one thing that is the most difficult is cracking eggs, which would be totally gross with gloves on (H has gotten very good at cracking eggs for me).

The sensitivity has gone away within a week for my first 3 chemo treatments, so I'm praying that happens again this week (hoping for Wednesday!)

When I reflect on all of this stuff (which I don't do too much because...life is happening), I almost always turn to one of my most favorite Saints, St. Maria Faustina (the "Mercy" Saint) and her diary (which is my reading obsession - it's around 400 pages with numbered passages and I love it). I read it in my prayer today and found so much assurance in what she wrote: 

569 - O Jesus, my dearest Master, do not abandon me, not even for a moment, Jesus. You know well how weak I am of myself; that is why I know that it is my weakness that forces You to be with me constantly...

I'm too weak to deal with all of this most days, but today, I feel ok and like He's with me. And that helps so much.

 

Chemo #4 Down

Here's me pre-chemo in our kitchen!!  

A day late because I slept almost all day yesterday. Woke up to look at my boys' assignment notebooks and do nightly reading with them (my personal favorite activity).

Happy to say that I feel pretty good (just tired) today. Having a busy, real life helps so much.

Interesting points from yesterday:

1. It was busy in the chemo room yesterday. I have a 'favorite' chair, but it was taken...so I moved over the 'old boys' section. This is the corner where three older gentlemen get chemo and basically hang out with each other. All that was missing was a pack of cards. They are funny and loud and they had a long discussion on their hair falling out. "My head was like a baby's bottom," one man mentioned. "It was nice not shaving," was also funny. They all had hair regrowth at this point, though, so I think they have been at this awhile. And I was amazed at how the worst of things can bond strangers together. And it was nice.

2. I learned that my cold sensitivity is NOT neuropathy. Cold sensitivity is just a side effect that will wear off. Neuropathy is a long term side effect where my fingers or toes will feel numb (that "fallen asleep" feeling) all of the time. Some people have it in their legs as well. Dr NP was telling me it's a positive thing that I've had few authentic neuropathy feelings, which could be a good sign long term. I'll take it.

3. I got my biopsy genome testing result. Cancer science fun-fact (😜) that every cancer has genetic and hormone related differences that are very important when it comes to treatment.  They can also be very different among cancers (even if they occur on the same genes). Trust me, it's WAY MORE confusing than even that confusing sentence sounds. Basically, treatment going forward will be guided by my results. Treatment trials, immunotherapy chances, prognosis (if I'll live a long time or not) may be based on these results. Three important results of my testing (for the researchers out there):

• I have the BRAF  D594 mutation (NOT the V600e) - 5-10% of people with colon cancer have the BRAF mutation. IT IS VERY LINKED TO HEREDITY (hint for my family). It's mostly found in women (yeah!) and older patients (not me) and rectal cancers. The good news from this is the little D594 has much better prognosis that the V600e.  Dr NP said, "This is OK." Not a cause for jubilation, but workable according to her. 
• I do not have KRAS or NRAS mutations - this is very good. I am considered "wild-type" (but we all knew that ) ha. ha. 
• There are A LOT of drug trials out there for all of this, especially in younger patients (or those who are overall healthy). That sentence makes me wish I was having a beer and pizza right now...that'd be way more fun. 

4. I will have my PET scan, to see how everything is working, on Sept. 12 at 1pm. **prayers appreciated** 

My only bummer news is that Dr. NP said to assume 4 more chemo treatments, even if my scans are amazing. The normal course of treatment is around 12 rounds of chemo (just found this out) but, like everything, all plans are basically "scan to scan." We (Dr NP, Shawn and I) all decide as we go and as we see things working or not working. 

I'm just not a very patient person, honestly. But it looks like I'm in this for a while. 

Yesterday was St. Mother Teresa's (not her official name, but whatever) Feast Day and she is incredibly special to me. I have always adored Mother Teresa. And my mom was given a special message from her yesterday...so I wanted to post some of my favorite quotes from Mother below. I especially love Mother's idea that the Western world poverty of loneliness is so much harder to heal that the Developing world's monetary poverty. We are called to SEE people, to HEAR them, to KNOW them. Sometimes, that it so much harder than fishing out a dollar bill. I would like to stay alive so that I can love more people like this...

Pre-Chemo #4

It's been a busy week with all of the boys back in school and soccer and swim starting all at the same time! At least I don't have any big medical issues to deal with or take care of (ha ha). Actually, my daily life with cancer is pretty dull and just regular life...for which I am incredibly grateful.

Tomorrow is my 4th chemo. The final chemo in my first line of treatment...maybe.

I will find out tomorrow when I will have my "scans" to see how effective chemo (along with all my other crazy supplements) has been. According to the oracle of the internet, doctors normally wait about 2 weeks from the treatment to run tests. I am guessing that chemo takes about 2 weeks to have a full effect.

I am just enjoying the analogy posed by Betsy that, "It's like you're getting punched in the face every two weeks and you are actually running into the punch." Yep. That about sums up my feeling tonight as I write this. My mind is filled with: "who is taking the boys to school" and "who is picking them up" and "who will get D to swimming" and "who will get C & H to flag football" and "will this be the chemo where the side-effects are just. too. much."?

So, instead of obsessing about this, I'll listen to a favorite song of Shawn and mine (💗) and post pictures of the amazing gifts I've received lately. You all are just too much. I wish I could post all of the emails and IMs and texts I receive where people are thinking and praying. It makes my eyes sting with tears just typing that.

Chemo is at 9:40am tomorrow (mountain time) so that I can drive the boys to school (it's a gift, people. I can't believe I'll type this, but CAR LINE IS A GIFT & so are your long homeschool start days...ALL GIFT).

You are My Sunshine

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are grey

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away

The other night, dear, while I lay sleeping

I dreamed I held you here in my arms

When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken

And I hung my head and I cried

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are grey

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away

I'll always love you and make you happy

If you will only say the same

But if you leave me to love another

You'll regret it all some day

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are grey

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away

Please don't take my sunshine away

 A good friend brought this amazing "chemo gift basket" (with her daughter's homemade card). The socks will be with me at chemo tomorrow! I'll try to post a picture (swear word spoiler).

 The basket included this lovely coloring book. I just had to laugh and hope I can say this soon.

 Another friend (and babysitter for my boys while we lived in Canada) is traveling Europe with her family and lit this giant candle for me in Lourdes, France. The feast of Our Lady of Lourdes is my birthday...so this is really special to me.

 Another school-mom friend and precious prayer warrior's husband took a trip to Mexico City and went to the Cathedral (for Our Lady of Guadalupe) and he picked up a statue of St Jude (Patron of impossible causes) for me. My mom has been praying faithfully for St Jude's intercession. I am surrounded by "such a cloud of witnesses" (Hebrews 12:1 & 2)...both here and in heaven.

I also received a beautiful heart necklace from my cousin. No picture, because I'm wearing it :)

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you. to Everyone.
I'll post tomorrow on my "steroid high" if I'm up to it.

Jesus, I surrender myself to You, take care of everything...everything.
Salve, Regina.
Pray for AJ.

Back to School

Hope you had a fabulous Labor Day weekend.

Just a quick post to say all is well here. I'm 12 days since my last chemo, so I feel almost normal.

Because we're true creatures of habit, we headed to the cabin for the long weekend. We were so happy to spend some time with Heather, Mark and Paige...Cory, Sally and the babes...Nancy and Dan. It was a busy weekend for sure. So many changes (new houses! back to gymnastics!) so much news and time to talk. So proud that we only cried once!

I am truly grateful to God that - by Sunday - the awful "fiberglass feeling" when touching anything cold had gone away. I could taste food and my toes didn't feel constantly cold and strange. What a WONDER that real, actual health is. Just our working bodies are miracles.

Today, C and H began their careers at a new school.

Change is hard, but good. The house has been so quiet since they all left. A mom asked me (at drop off) if I had to send them back because of the diagnosis (we homeschooled for the last year). I am amazed at the goodness of God because it was made pretty clear that the boys should return to school at the very end of last school year. We had all discussed it and the boys new the plan. I wasn't diagnosed until late June, so school wasn't something pressed onto them by cancer. It's more like the homeschooling year was just a nice reprieve where we were able to spend a lot of time getting to know each other. I am very confident about the types of learners they all are and what they need. I'm not sure they learned anything super valuable (except from their math tutors - not me - who kept them at grade level). I learned a lot about them and myself. With my whole heart I would encourage anyone to take (at least) a year and homeschool your kids. Or at least spend a lot of time with them.  Get to know them while they want to be known. It doesn't have to last forever. But, I can't say I haven't asked God, "Is that why we had that year? So we'd have a year totally together?" If it turns out that way, I'll always be grateful. Knowing my kids and having them know me is probably one of only 3 things on my bucket list. 

On that same note, I just heard that the youngest brother [of a very special family that I taught in California (years ago)] has had a tragic swimming accident and is on life-support. Andrew (AJ), is 28 and was just enjoying the weekend with his extended family when they found him unresponsive in the pool. Please pray for AJ and his family today. And love those people around you. 

Jesus, I trust in You. Salve, Regina.