Shifting Gears, New Game Plan

After the whirlwind and week of being reunited with family, it was back to reality. My doctors were back in town. On Monday, it was time to see the oncologist. In two of the five areas of grading breast cancer, I had happy faces. One area was still unknown as the lymph nodes had not been biopsied. In talking with the oncologist, he was optimistic, however it was obvious he had not been properly briefed. He apparently did not know that the goal was to get us back to the field quickly. He was certain that chemotherapy would be part of the game plan. I was not certain. I knew it would lengthen our time here in the states. I asked the oncologist what he would do if it was his wife. He said he would do the chemotherapy first. That was not my plan.

My family was getting together for a while that afternoon. I could not make it. I had to take time to shift gears. This was not going to be as quick or easy as I would like it to be. However, the course of treatment set out was going to eradicate the cancer from my body and prevent me from having to leave the field again in a few years to go through it all again. It was going to be a marathon rather than a sprint. A battle or even a war rather than a skirmish. My brain shifted gears but still reserved hope that my surgeon would say that we could skip the chemotherapy.

On Wednesday, I saw my specialist who is my surgeon. She had talked with the oncologist and they had gone through every scenario. She had said we could do the surgery first, however the chemotherapy would give us a chance to get results back as to where else the cancer could be in my body. She said it would be better to do chemotherapy before the surgery, while my body was still strong. I trusted her to have worked through every possibility to get me back to the field more quickly because she had been properly briefed. I knew this was the right way to go, even if it was not what I initially wanted.

On Friday, I went for a PETscan to see if indeed the cancer had spread anywhere else. I also went for an echocardiogram to be sure that my heart was strong enough to handle the chemotherapy drugs. I met that afternoon with the oncologist. He said that my heart was good. He also said that a lymph node was enlarged, which could mean the cancer was there or not. The biopsy the next week would tell us for sure.

I braced myself for this new game plan. I would do eight treatments of chemotherapy every other week. After that, I would have a month off before surgery to remove the cancer cells. Depending on the results of the lymph node biopsy, we would look at radiation after recovery from the surgery.  This was going to take longer than I wanted it to take.

It would be longer before I would see my beloved Africa again. It would be longer than I wanted before I could do again what I was meant to do.  But maybe this is part of what I am meant to do. Maybe it is not about Senegal or America. Maybe it is about praising Him wherever I am, whatever my circumstance. "Bless The Lord, O my soul, worship His Holy name, sing like never before, O my soul, I'll worship His holy name."            

Missing Wade

I referenced in my last post my brother Wade, his battle with cancer, and his subsequent home going. I really thought for some reason that I would be able to just mention that and move on, but I was wrong. Instead my mind has been flooded the rest of the day with thoughts about that time in my life and how it has affected my life since then. Please forgive me if anything is a little off, as I am only telling as I remember. Time makes some memories fade and others are heightened.

In the fall of my junior year of high school, Wade, who was ten years older than me, was diagnosed with lymphoblastic lymphoma. In November 1991, Wade turned 27 and began treatment. I remember his hair falling out and him getting weaker. My junior year was a mix of typical teenage activities and nights of rushing to the hospital with my family when Wade had seizures at the house. In May 1992, I remember coming home from my senior ring ceremony to get Wade to be among the first to turn my ring. It was hard to go on the high school mission trip and to youth camp that summer for fear of what would happen while I was gone. During the last week of July, I remember overhearing some people talking about a vision Wade had of an angel or maybe Christ and how it would not be long. July 31st, I stayed with my mom as she spent the night with Wade. Early on the morning of August 1st, all went quiet as Wade took his last breath. I called to tell my dad and sister that Wade was gone. Subsequently, my senior year was covered by the fog of grief, which we all dealt with in different ways.

For the next ten years, I would live in fear that too would be my fate. I wondered if I would have the word "Cancer" pronounced over me. When I got married, I wished Wade was there.  When I graduated from college and seminary, I wished he was there. When I turned 28, I felt victorious! I had lived longer than Wade and had somehow escaped that dreaded word. I was happily married, pregnant with my first child, and on our way to the mission field. Life was not perfect, but it felt pretty close.

Every one of the ten years since then felt like a gift. They were not perfect and nor was I, but I felt blessed to have the opportunities that I did. I began to realize more and more what a gift each day, not just year, was, especially this past year. I came to the point of embracing my season of life. I did not long for the past nor was I overly eager for tomorrow. This embracing played out in lots of areas including, but not limited to, my hair. I grew it out to be its natural color, whatever that was going to be. My hair was full of "wisdom highlights", also known as grey. I knew I needed to savor the moments I had with my children because they would be gone far too soon.

Then this summer that word "Cancer" came back into my life, into my family's life. Why now? Why this time? "The field is white unto harvest but the workers are few." Too much work is left for us to be gone now. Why my mom? How can she go through this again, watching another child fight this fight? As a mother, I would rather be the one sick than see my children hurting. Far greater than any self concern when I was given the official word was concern for my parents who would have to go through all of this again. The same Lord who has given me the gift of the last few years is also walking my family through this time as well. I am missing Wade but gearing up for my own fight!

Hope and Advice

Sorry to have taken a break from writing. I have not retreated so much as been absorbed getting my family transitioned to America. I am going to try to get you caught up on us without writing a novel of what has happened between then and now.

So the beginning of the week of mammogram/ biopsy, a sweet friend had said that a girls' night out on Friday would be a time to celebrate that the results would be negative. When they came back positive, the outlook for a celebratory dinner was set aside. I was at least going to enjoy being with my friends and try to forget about the elephant in the room. However, I got a call shortly after I arrived at my friend's house. It was my specialist calling to say that the results came back from one of the tests that had been done the day before.  It came back negative! Woohoo! The doctor had tried to keep her concern restrained, but this negative was a big deal. If this had been positive, it would have been really, really bad. So the fact that this came back negative was cause for celebration! We were back to having a celebratory dinner!

My doctor also informed me in that phone call that another result had come back. She said that test gave hope that we might be able to skip chemotherapy. My doctor knew my hope was to get this done and return to our field of service as soon as possible. Skipping chemo put us at a possible window of returning in three to four months. I was so excited about this possibility. I love our lives there. "Africa is where I belong."

When one is entering this type of journey, one gets lots of advice. Some good. Some not. The job is distinguishing the difference.  I had been doing really well with everything, even surprising myself. God had given me scriptures to encourage me and get me through, specifically the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. I even began to wonder if I was crazy because I was not a basket case, as others indicated they expected me to be. I was praising him in the storm! Then I got the best advice from a sweet friend at church. "This is your journey, no one else's. When I was at the point you are at, I could not have been at church worshipping. Let it be yours and don't try to make it like someone else's." That is good advice for life, not just cancer!

More advice I got was to go ahead with putting my children in school. At first I resisted for lots of reasons, but most of all because William would be in middle school. That was not something I was prepared for at all. He and Mariama are both young for their grades, which was fine in homeschool. Besides if it was just going to be a few months, we could just wait until we returned to our field to begin the school year. However, the idea that they would get a chance to see how the other half lives and have distraction while I committed my full effort to recovery won out.

I had a week off from doctor appointments to get ready for my family to arrive and get them settled. A bonus was that my brother and his family were also coming into town. My mother would have all of her children and almost all of her grandchildren in town at the same time. (I was especially excited about the timing of this grand reunion because it was also the 22nd anniversary of my oldest brother's final battle with cancer and home going.) I was able to spend this week helping my family prepare for my brother's family. With less than two weeks before school starting, it also meant we had to get the ball rolling for getting the kids enrolled in school. It was not as relaxing as I had hoped, but it was nice to be together.

His Point of View

Well hello there.  Lisa asked me to be a guest blogger for her blog and post about what I was feeling, thinking and going through in the early stages.  To be honest, almost from the moment it was found at home, I had a feeling in the back of my mind that it was going to be more serious than my lovely bride was playing it off as.  I have always been a strange combination of a little bit of a dreamer mixed with a realist: sort of a realistic dreamer.  I tend to see several possibilities a path can go before I even get to the fork and prepare myself for either one.  This has served to help me be prepared for most things that I have faced over the years.  I think about what could be, then layout a very short response and then I move on in my mind.  This allows me to be free from sitting around and thinking about something that may or may not be a big deal.

As I said, from the very beginning I started thinking in my mind about what the possibilities could be, what the possible long and short term options were for either one and “pinned” those in my mind and was able to move on with my life and stay focused on the task God had set before me.  While this allowed me to stay focused on sharing His word where we were, the news took a little wind out of my sails.  I also was blown away by the speed in which our company and our family/friends (friends who are like family) moved Heaven and Earth in order to get Lisa back to the States, get her appointments set up and then get me and the kids in the States as well. 

I was certainly more than a little concerned when the doctor sent her to the States, and more so when the diagnosis came back as cancer.  The first few days were difficult telling others about it, but the more I talked with God and laid out my concern to Him, the more His peace settled over me.  The roughest time though was the 4 – 5 days that Lisa and I were apart.  Across the ocean I knew I could not hold her in my arms and pray with her in person.  I was grateful for modern technology that allowed us to Vox and Facetime each other and allowed the kids to talk to mommy as well. That helped fill in the gaps, a little.  Most of my time those days though were spent being almost too busy getting things packed and squared away getting me and the kids ready to leave.  That helped to occupy my mind and keep me focused on the kids. 

The flight though, did cause me a little anxiety, the thought of a 32 hour trip with the 3 kids through 5 airports, 4 planes, customs, and layovers.  I should have known better as God was in control even over that.  We got on the plan in Dakar faster than thought, made a few friends on the airplane that helped a little and the kids and I all slept the first leg (it left at 9:45pm).  At the Brussels airport, we had a 6 hr layover and a Starbucks!  After some breakfast and checking in, once they opened the gate to do so, we settled in to a seating area and then the tiredness hit.  The kids watched a show on their iPad, they share 1, which I preloaded on there and I took a short nap sitting in my seat with the kids at my feet.  When I woke up Lydia-Ann had fallen asleep as well and took about a 2 hour nap.  Meanwhile, after I woke up, Mariama and William both proved to be big helpers and big kids by taking each other to the bath room as well as watching the bags and everything.  When we got on the plane for the longest flight of the trip, 8 hours, the actually bumped us up to Business class!!  I was able to switch seats with another father and son and all 4 of us sat together.  It was like First Class with seats that laid back, which allowed us all to take another sleep, after watching some shows on the bigger screens and eating ice cream for dessert of course.

A Whirlwind

I knew that what we suspected was going to be true. I was called into the office. I sat down at the desk and began talking with the doctor. He updated his information on me. He still had my age written as 29. Heeheehee! Then we talked about the checkup for which I was coming. I also told him about the suspicious lump, which needed to be checked. He asked me to go to the bathroom to change for the exam.

I went to change and came out to be weighed. Oh joy! Then I sat down to begin the exam. As soon as the exam began, the doctor was concerned. He knew something was not right. He did an ultrasound and was able to measure the lump. He asked when I would be traveling. I responded, "Next week I will be traveling back to our town." He emphatically answered, "No, no you are not. You need to go somewhere to get this checked."

What? I thought maybe he would say we need to check on it in a few months. I thought maybe he could do something there. However, our country does not have adequate mammogram capabilities. He wanted me to have a mammogram and biopsy as soon as possible.

We finished the exam and talked about our medical office personnel. As I went to get changed out of my exam "attire", I called one of those medical personnel to let him share his findings. The wheels were set in motion.

I got done and drove back to the place we were staying. Rich and I met with our medical personnel to discuss our options. It was agreed that sending me to the United States for the tests he was recommending was the best option. The wheels were rolling.

Later that evening, I had a ticket booked back to the states for three days later and an appointment with a ob/gyn doctor. The next day my family general practitioner in the states was calling to arrange for the process to go faster by getting me straight into a specialist. Saturday I spent time with my family and relaxed as much as possible. Sunday I was on a plane across the ocean and had the opportunity to sit next to some really neat people.

Monday I had my mammogram. The ultrasound there showed two larger lumps and a smaller one.  The doctor at the center was 90% sure it would be benign. He said he would bet it was not cancer if he were a betting man.  

Tuesday I saw my specialist.  She too felt that it was unlikely that the lumps were cancer. For the average woman, they would seek to check it in six months. However, since my situation is not average, she went ahead with the biopsy.

Wednesday, everyone was surprised when the results came back early and the results were positive. Well, I cannot say that I was surprised completely. I was more surprised by the results coming back so early, not so much that it was positive.

The next day more tests were done to give more information for what type of cancer I have and the wheels were set in motion for my husband and children to join me in the states. I was more anxious about him traveling alone with the children across the ocean with a concerned heart than I was about my cancer. However, the same God who is big enough to handle my cancer is also big enough to get my family across the ocean in peace.

"What is that? Nothing, I'm sure."

This is the day that The Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it.
This is also the day that this blog shifts from a blog about God's work in Africa to God's work in me.
Of course, I have written blogs along the way about what God was doing in my own heart, struggles I was facing in my life, things He was teaching me personally. However, this blog is about to go to a whole new level of personal.

Some may say, "How can you share that? How can you put that all out there?"  Well, I have been doing that all along the way. Others might not process things the way I do. I am a writer. I always have been, though at times in my life I allowed myself to get too busy. As a wise woman told me recently, "Your journey will not look like anyone else's. Don't make it anyone else's but yours." Others may retreat to a cave within themselves. That is not me, at least not at this point. I am a writer.

So to begin, we must go back to the beginning. At the beginning of 2014, I felt a lump in my left breast.  I think I blew it off.  To be more precise though, my husband felt the lump one day in ?January or February.  That is the day we took mental note of it to keep checking on it.

Thoughts like, "I'm too young for that to be anything." "I have nursed all three of my children for a year each. That is supposed to help prevent anything." "I don't have time for that. We have too much work to do. I have young teammates to encourage and mentor as they learn language."

As if to show me that He had all those things under control that I thought I had to be there for, God began pulling us away from our town. March had a homeschool conference, but we had to go up early to get Visas done and for us all to see the dentist. A one week conference turned into a two week trip away from home. Then we had the opportunity to go to some training in Zambia in April and May. We took a few days before the conference to vacation a couple of days down to Victoria Falls and before that we had to go up early to get Mariama to the doctor for her boils. When the training was over, we had some college students come join our team for a few weeks and their orientation kept us in the capital a few more days. One month of training turned into almost two months away from our home. While we were away during this time, our teammates had been going out to share in villages with a local brother, and they had been able to see many open doors and two baptisms. I was humbled. God did not really need me. God was going to do the work whether I was there or not.

During the time that those college students were there, amidst all of the activity we had going on, in the quiet moments, once again the lump was felt. Not that it had ever gone away, but my husband and I began to grow more concerned. Rephrase. I was not concerned because I was still rationalizing. In addition to all the arguments I gave earlier, I said to myself, "It's just hormones or something. It somehow has something to do with pre-menstruation."  My husband grew more insistent that I go get it seen about in the capital. I reassured him that I would when we went up for a retreat and then our supply shopping. I would go for my routine checkup. He wanted me to let our medical friends know what was going on. I made a passing mention in an email to them about other things that I would be having something suspicious checked out.

After the retreat, we went to the capital for a few days of vacation. Then we began some grocery shopping and doctor visits. One of those was to see my doctor, who had delivered both Mariama and Lydia-Ann. As I sat waiting to see him, my heart began to be heavy within me. I knew something was about to change. I knew I was going to leave there different.  I knew....