What is The Biggest Question?

12/18/18

Cancer. Why does that word bring a gasp, an extra heartbeat, a heavy chest, a picture of someone we know? Because it literally affects just about each and every person in this world. We all have a connection to cancer because we have it or had it or through someone we know or someone we know who knows someone. There are cancer treatment centers in many towns, because it affects so many people and the need for a nearby center that focuses only on this disease is crucial. Every single day thousands of people are diagnosed with cancer, and thousands of people are treated for cancer.

Cancer. What does that mean? We see the effects of the treatment, but what exactly is cancer? The long and short of it: Our body is made up of trillions of cells, and sometimes those cells turn abnormal for one reason or another. Because cells divide, an abnormal cell divides and it does so rapidly for there is nothing to keep it in check. It can appear in so many forms, it is unbelievable; or not appear in any form on the outside which is more unbelievable. I think there are signs that maybe we overlook as regular aches and pains, but it shows itself most of the time in some form or other. My cancer appeared as a knot in my lower abdomen which was an ovary that was taken over by the cancer. I had a sign, but I was also at the tail end of puberty, so we were keeping an eye on it. I was very healthy and had no other symptoms. Because the abnormal cells divided so rapidly, my tumor was very large when the doctors opened me up.

Modern medicine has found a way to test this silent killer through different types of abnormal cell killers. Once a diagnosis is in place an oncologist will work to get the best protocol which was tested on patients in a study and proved to get results as the best treatment. Chemotherapy, radiation, surgery, etc… Chemotherapy was the only cancer treatment I received when I was diagnosed. I received it in the form of an IV drip, orally in a pill, and through a spinal tap each month. My protocol set up by the doctor for Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma had seen great results in patients, and to this day this type of cancer has a high cure rate. We saw results very quickly, but we also had many prayers go up to the Great Physician on my behalf.

Cancer. Why? Why are so many people affected by this disease? I do not know. Everyone has their thoughts about it, but there are studies of things that are known to cause this disease. We all have heard of them. Why me? I do not know. Why my family? I do not know. You see, six months after my diagnosis, while I was still going through treatments, my mom went into the dermatologist and had a spot removed on her face. It was melanoma. Cancer again became the word in our home and affected another member of the family. It was a scary time. The doctor was confident that they removed everything, and she did not have to have treatment. We let out a sigh of relief to have such great news concerning her.

Why? That question is asked when cancer is a part of two members of a five-member family unit, and our story was not quite over in this department. But the question of “why” and others are asked by the family and those around us. It does not bother you when they are asked because it can be a healing process for you to talk about what you are going through. It can be a help for those asking the questions. They might be facing the same crises or a similar one and just need a word or two of encouragement they might receive through the same conversation.

Whatever reason for my life to see cancer is only answered through my Almighty God. For me and my family; God Said Cancer. The “why” has been answered thousands of times. First off, I did not have Him fully in my life as my God and my Savior. I accepted Him as my Redeemer less than a year after the diagnosis. Secondly, God said cancer and three months later God said no cancer. My body was full of disease and the three-month scans saw not a trace. Why cancer? So God could perform a miracle. Why cancer? So the people around us could pray for us and see God work… Why cancer? So our family would become strong together in a new community… Those around my parents in the work environment would see their strength and come to our little church… We could talk to the nurses and doctors about what God did for us… I would lose my hair and feel totally embarrassed and humbled which helped me realize I was not in control… We would get a little article in the paper about my diagnosis and our church… I would lose all hope in the middle of the protocol and see God bring heart and nausea medicine to help me… Our community would come together and raise money for our cause, and remember it well when we speak to them on visits… We would travel as a family to the National Spelling Bee… These are just a few of the reasons up to this point in the journaling of our story. There are so many more before this.

Hebrews 13:21 is talking about how the God of peace “Make you perfect in every good work to do his will, working in you that which is wellpleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ; to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.” Every single thing in our lives is there to help us be more like Him who is working to show others the glory that is due Him. In the moment, super duper hard, but so very important. They say hindsight is 20/20, but I want my foresight to be 20/20 and want to remember to ask God for this.

Cancer. Mine is hindsight, others is now, and still others are in the future. Why? Because God has amazing things to show us. And He had amazing things to show me as I continued my journey past the one-year mark.

Words All Around Us

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12/4/18

May 1991

My spirits were up, and the family was all pretty happy, mainly because I was not throwing up near as long. My youngest brother had had a hard go at the cancer thing. He spent so much time with sitters and really had a couple of rotten experiences. We talk about them still today, but he was a trooper. But many a time I would be laying on the couch with my tub nearby and when I would throw up, he would hold it for me. Sometimes he would set up a cot next to the couch, probably because I would watch TV to keep my mind off of the nausea, but all the same he wanted to be near me. He had to see so many things that a four and five year old should not have to deal with or see. My whole family did, but they were still my strength no matter how many times I would yell at them through the pain or mistreat them. In my mind, I was sick and had every right to behave however I wanted.

My eldest brother was back on the spelling bee trail and had done well. He won at the school, district, and then headed to state and won that. It was a pretty exciting time at home, especially when we received word, he would be traveling to the National Spelling Bee in Washington, D. C. The spelling bee organization would be paying for the speller and a chaperone to attend the event. My dad would be going with my brother. It was a busy next few days for us because the middle school he attended contacted us and asked if they could do something for the family. They would be having their annual spring fair, and they wanted to donate all the proceeds to our family so that my mom and I could go to D. C. as well. They published the fair in the paper and the cause, and the community came out in abundance. What a surprise and blessing! They ended up raising all of the funds we needed for the trip.

And we were on our way! I think I had only been on a plane one other time before we boarded the plane for the National Spelling Bee. No matter the end result, my brother was ready, and we were all very excited. Thank yous went out to him for his hard work and our community for sending us on this adventure. We would be gone a few days because they had a schedule of events leading up to the Spelling Bee. When we arrived, we were taken to a beautiful hotel down the street from the U. S. Capitol Building. We spent the week with the other spellers and their families touring our nation’s capital on tour busses and enjoying down time at a Memorial Day barbeque. We were able to see the Arlington Cemetery, some of the Smithsonian like the Air and Space Museum, and the Declaration of Independence.

My brother was nervous on the day of the Bee to say the least. We were all nervous. A spelling bee brings about a whole lot of emotions you do not expect. When the speller is up there and the word is pronounced, they have the ability to ask a couple of questions. During the whole time he was standing there, my heart was beating a hundred miles an hour. I cannot imagine what his is doing! As soon as he started spelling, I would just hope he knew the crazy word, because I did not have a clue. Each time he got it right was such a relief because you knew he could picture that word in his head, so he was in a good frame of mind. He went out in the fourth round and was very disappointed, but we were all super proud of his accomplishment. This time in our lives needed a time of joy, and we acknowledged that God had given us this trip for just that; a trip we would never forget. I had received a chemotherapy the week before traveling, so when we returned, I had a couple more days off and then back to the routine.

What is it about certain words that can cause a spirit and the physical and mental state of mind to change in an instant? First of all, we are human beings, and God created us with a body, soul, and spirit. We can keep the body looking well on the outside, but many times actions and words affect the spirit and mind more than we can control, and what is on the inside will come out. God’s word tells us in Matthew 12:34, the second part, “…out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.” Secondly, we keep allowing ourselves to be around the negative, so we internalize it and let it affect our heart. Each time I heard I had to have chemo because my counts were good, it affected me. The same went for my brother and spelling. He would put in the correct spelling of the words, so that what came out was the correct spelling of the word.

There are so many horrible outside forces that are not as easy to combat as those spelling words or the words I heard each time from the doctor. But as Christians we have the same God who can help us make it through, and if we will purposefully make it a point to internalize God and His Word at the hard times, we WILL come out on the other side.

Only God Can Do That

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11/27/18

Winter 1990 and 1991

Mint chocolate chip or peanut butter? Pepperoni or cheese? Wood or painted? SUV or sedan? Right and wrong? Choices are constantly in our lives and sometimes staring us in the face asking for us to make a decision that instant. What do we do for those major decisions? Pray and seek counsel from those around us that have most likely been faced with something similar. The little choices do not seem as important but can really change some things in our lives depending on what choice we make.

I was up against choices that changed my life forever. Since cancer had already done that, it was my turn. My dad and I were driving out toward the house, and he asked me a question that rocked my world. Had I thought about dying? Because he had known from his point of view that I had been at death’s door. Of course not! It did not even cross my mind at all. My only thoughts about cancer were that it was the worst thing that ever happened to me; I hated every minute of the fact I could not be a normal teenager, and stupid chemo made me lose my hair! No reason to talk about dying because I was going to be done with chemotherapy in less than a year and so long cancer.

I did not admit it, but his question scared me, and I spent the next few weeks in anguish. You see, when I was five, I knelt at a chair with my aunt and prayed the sinner’s prayer, but during elementary school I went to a Christian school and my teachers would always talk about where we would go if we were to die. I remember getting the opportunity to pray a couple of times on my knees near the chalkboard, and each time I asked God to save me if I was not saved. I knew I was not 100% sure if I had not woken up from surgery that I would have gone to Heaven. On January 5, 1991, I accepted the Lord as my Savior and felt a relief beyond all measure. I also felt like maybe things were getting better for me as a person.

That changed quickly. Around March, I had had enough of doctors, chemo, heart problems and the world. School was pretty difficult, and my headaches were unbearable. Nothing seemed to even scrape the surface and give me any relief. My heart condition was getting extremely out of control. I could not stop it right away, and it made me a nervous wreck. Throwing up for 24 hours was the last straw. I was so totally and absolutely done with puking. So I was walking into another chemo hoping for a low blood count so I could go home. When the doctor came in and said the counts were good, I made a choice to leave. I told my mom I was done, I was not going to do chemo, and I did not care if I died. This awful, this horrible disease was destroying my spirit and my wherewithal to live.

I got up and tried to get out of the room. But mom stood between me and the door and told me that I was not leaving, we were going to stick with this. Through tears and sobbing from both of us, we had a verbal and mental struggle with each other, and me with the devil because I was not going to stay there. Our memories of the day are a little different, but we both know God took control of it from that point. I sat back down on the bed, and mom kept telling me we were going to beat this thing; we had come this far and had six months left. Literally, within minutes the cardiologist stopped in and asked us to come over and discuss a new drug that came out for my condition. It was taking control of the rapid heartbeats, and patients were seeing improvement in the number of episodes a person was experiencing. He said our only other option was open heart surgery, and my body could not survive that on cancer treatments. Right after we returned from the cardiologist, the oncologist came in and said they were ready for the spinal tap, and by the way, a nausea medicine that helped with the length of time a chemo patient threw up just made its way to the department. I would be the first to try it out if I was interested. We said we definitely would try it out.

In less than an hour my choice to leave, my mom’s strong and convincing words to stay, and my choice to stay changed the next six months of my life. Both drugs really did just what we were told they would do. If I remember right, I did not have another heart episode during that period of time, and my nausea stopped at the twelve-hour mark. We said then and say now, only God can and did do that. Just like my God gave me a clear scan and blood work from three-month post diagnosis until now, thirty-three years later; only God can do that.

Stories like this could not possibly be true, but I am a living testament that they are. God showed Himself to us so strong and powerful, there was no question in our minds and thousands of others that have heard the story. It was He who did it. Why do I forget that miracle in my life? Why do I go through things right now and struggle to see God working? Where is my focus? I submit that it is not on God but on myself and the difficult situation I am in. I try hard to remember where God has brought me from and what He has done in my life. Little things like not complaining about a bad hair day are at the forefront of mind, and the reason why should be, too.

God is so good to me, and I am truly, truly blessed to be able to say that only God could do that.

The Heart of the Matter

11/20/18

Summer/Fall 1990

Nervous, to say the least. It was my three month checkup and although I would come to appreciate these scans more so later on, I had in my mind they were no big deal right now. The pink stuff threatened to destroy my life again, and we realized after this endeavor, we would get further along in the scan process if they just shoved a tube down my nose and shoveled it into my stomach. Not as much groaning and moaning and whining and refusing to drink the stuff that way, and it went in hours faster. Seriously.

Three month scan report and blood work: 100% clear! Not one spot or lymph node or any sign of cancer in my body. It was an absolute miracle, and the oncologists basically said the same thing. We knew it was and why and how. Each and every time we returned for scans throughout the months and years, we received the exact same results from the doctor. But every time I was still very nervous.

Another reason to be nervous. I was embarking on a new journey; entering the big doors of the only high school in the area. The two story building was set up on a hill right behind one of the two grocery stores in town. It was a rectangular shape with the freshmen lockers at one end next to the choir and band rooms and the gym. About 3/4 of the way down the hallway toward the other end was the entrance, commons area downstairs, and cafeteria upstairs. Then the classrooms began. We were able to get our lockers and check out the classrooms on our schedule before school started, and I figured that I might have to run if I ever had to go back to my locker. I did my fair share of that throughout the year.

My schedule consisted of all the regular classes, but I did not have to take P.E. because if for any reason the broviac was hit or dislodged, I could have serious problems. I would be an aide that hour, plus I would be taking Spanish and Choir as my electives. I was also taking Algebra II which ended up being with a few friends from middle school and a boatload of upper classmen, mainly Juniors and Seniors. I would soon dread going to this class; not because of the workload.

Like I said earlier, we had one high school in the area which brought all the freshmen into one building. Everyone from my middle school knew my situation, maybe not the fact that I wore a wig, but had an idea why I would leave during class and be gone the next day. After a couple of months, I started getting questions from the other students, so I would give them a short answer that I was going to the doctor because I was sick. I had a hard time talking about it so I just left it at that. The math class was hard because at one point I saw a couple of upper classmen point at my hair and laugh. I dreaded going in there from that point on, but I decided to move to the other side of the room and ignore it. I was just being sensitive, but when mom asked if I would like a new wig, I said yes. We picked one out that was longer and a different color and made plans to change them out at Christmas. The questions were non-stop that first day back in January. I told everyone that I colored my hair and got extensions! It worked, but I was not going to change my style again.

My health was really good. I had the occasional low blood counts, which caused a rejoicing in my heart because I did not have to have chemo. I think that only happened three times in the 18 month time period. Amazing to say the least. To go to school full time and hang out with friends at church, it is crazy that I did not have more times where they would send us home.

Even though my body stayed strong, I did struggle with a couple of issues that would not go away. I was having severe headaches. I would be in class in the middle of the day, and it was all I could do to keep my head up. After a visit or two with the school nurse, she suggested that I come down and lay in the nurses station anytime my headaches were unbearable. She spoke with my mom and sent out a note to all my teachers to let them know. I did not want to miss class, so I fought through them as much as possible. We asked the doctors at our visits and no one really had any explanation. I even had an MRI to see if there was cancer in the brain, but that came out negative, which was a huge relief. Mom and I concluded that it had to be the spinal taps because I have never had any headaches like that since chemotherapy.

The second issue I was having was with my heart. When I was young, I was diagnosed with a heart problem called SVT, Tachycardia, an irregular heartbeat. When I would have an episode it would trigger the heart to start beating extremely fast, up to 250 to 300 times a minute. When I was little I remember my parents rushing me to the hospital, and I would have to put my face in cold water or some other quick reaction that would trigger the heart to reset and go back to normal. The doctors had medicines that would go in an IV that would stop the heart, but that was always a last resort. If too much time passed, I could go into cardiac arrest so getting it to resolve was super important.

As I got older, I was able to control the beats by jumping up and down or doing a cartwheel or holding my breath. At this time in my cancer treatments, the situation was not so easy. Chemotherapy had intensified the amount of episodes I was having, and it was also preventing my regular ritual from halting the fast pace beat. I started seeing a cardiologist at Primary the day I was admitted for the tumor because they had to keep an eye on my heart during the surgery. We visited with him a couple of times the first few months, but as the intensity of the episodes increased, we met with him each month.

I was going through a hard time in the midst of a hard time, and I was at a real crossroads in my journey. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually I was about to take a hard turn in a different direction.

God has not given us a Bible filled with many stories of wonderful things that happened in history. He has given us His Word filled with many stories of wonderful things and difficult things and exciting things and devastating things and life and death. Just like our lives now. God mentions many times that there will be tribulations and trials in our present world, but He will be with us. John 16:33 says, “These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”

The Last Time We…

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Summer 1990

Have you ever been through a time in your life when you think, “Oh, this will be the last time that we will…?” Or someone says, “Let’s make sure to plan a get together because it will be the last time…” I can recall when my siblings and I were finding our significant others and the family got together for dinner “the last time as singles before the wedding.” There was another time right before we had our first baby when my husband and I went to pizza with our close friends and over to their house for Trivia Pursuit. Our baby was due that weekend, and I was pretty sure he was coming any minute, but we needed to get together that last time as childless couples. And we were a little crazy; he was born less than twenty-four hours later.

As the children in our family and our siblings’ families get older, we have been discussing a family trip before they graduate. Life has these “last times” around many corners. When I entered the hospital doors for the first time a few months back, having it be the last time I might see the outdoors was far from my mind. It almost was the last time I would see the snow piled up in the back of the parking lot or hear the birds chirping or see the new buds on the trees. I went in with a tumor in my stomach and miraculously came out, but with cancer in its place, an IV tube sticking out of my chest, and an incision eighteen inches long on my abdomen, among other things. Praise the Lord, it did not become my last time to walk out, and I was thankful.

Because the future was not certain, our extended family engaged in discussion with my parents about getting together. We had only been away for two years, but a much needed “family reunion” was put in the works. We have family in states all over the country, literally from sea to shining sea and border to border, so this would be an extensive undertaking. But plans were made, and everyone agreed on Yellowstone National Park. The great outdoors, and close to our home and the hospital and doctors. Chemotherapy was not going to stop for a family reunion, so as many as were able made the trip across the country to meet up at a place at the base of the Teton Mountains outside of Jackson, Wyoming. It was a little ranch with hotel style rooms where the families could divide up and stay. There was a nearby pond where everyone could go fishing, and a meandering creek and trees where exploring was invited. We congregated for meals and football tossing, and then we went inside the park to see the wonderful sights of Yellowstone.

The memories are worth mentioning because the past ups and downs of the family were shared with these members who supported us along the way. My family needed this time to be encouraged and energized by seeing their families again. One memory most of us would mention about the trip was the name of the ranch. It was at a place in the creek where it split off thus giving it the name Split Creek Ranch, which by the way to my family members reading, I looked it up and found it is still there. Maybe we need another family reunion! Anyway, one particular family member videoed most of the trip for all of us on VHS tape. Her announcement as she would sign on would always have the location where she was at the ranch, but with a different name. As we watch the tapes, we love hearing Split Rock Ranch or Split Creek Rock Ranch or whatever she decided to call it that time. Absolutely hilarious, and it kept my spirits up laughing, not at her just with her about her struggles with the name. She has now gone on to be with Jesus, so these memories are priceless.

Another memory was getting all of us to see Old Faithful when it was time to go off. We waited for ever and the littles AND bigs were restless, so we decided to leave and head to the next sight. Again, this event had to do with the video camera. As we were about to the car, Old Faithful began what it does best, and started to go off. We heard it, and one of the cousins grabbed the video camera and began running with it, unbeknownst to him that it was on. So for about 30 seconds you see his feet and hear his huffing and puffing plus you can hear the geyser in the background. He slows down and brings the camera up, only to have the battery die before it focuses on the geyser. We all watched it when we got back and were laughing our way through the week with the effort and the technology fail. By the way, these memories are ingrained in all of us because they are talked about when we see each other.

The last time together? Well, that was a possibility, and we could never repay our family for their efforts. But we are family. Efforts are worth it because we are family. That same family still makes effort to see each other, and it is so very special. I will not be able to stop and name off all the family members that came, but to each of you, I am so thankful for you and what you did. Once again, the memories are priceless. Those that could not come, prayed for us, and I am a direct result of God’s healing power through the prayers of others. So they were there in spirit.

Families pass on memories. How do we have God’s Word so preciously passed on to us? Through those that share it with others. God asked us to, “Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature,” Mark 16:15. We do not have to be preachers to share God’s love and what He did for us. He is telling us to share it with the cashier, the waitress, our children’s teammates’ parents we sit next to at every game, our friends and neighbors. Whomever we cross paths with, we need to make sure they are certain where they will go if their life ended tomorrow. It is a challenge to be a witness, because what if it was their last time…

A Dreaded Routine

11/13/18

Summer 1990

Routine: “A sequence of actions, regularly followed; a fixed program.” Merriam-Webster. Why in the world do we have to classify doctor’s appointments, chemotherapy, spinal taps, and throwing up for 24 hours a routine? Basically, a fight against cancer puts you in a routine you never imagined existed. We began to plan things around this routine. Salt Lake was such a big city compared to our town, so since it was summer time we would go shopping or sightseeing before we headed to the hospital. We were down there once a month so it was a little adventure. But then we would have to get in the car and drive to the hospital.

By this time we were going to the new hospital on the edge of town closest to where we lived. Salt Lake City is a large city and very spread out in the valley. From Evanston, we would hit the eastern side of the city first, right out of the winding, steep descent from Park City, and then travel a few miles north along the foothills. The large, new and beautiful Primary Children’s Hospital was such an upgrade from the older hospital with shiny floor-to-ceiling glass windows and multicolored murals on the walls. I remember some of the walls were made out of glass blocks to let in more light. It really was a nice place to go, even if the inside was filled with pain. I really dreaded this place. We were always greeted by a nice nurse who would do the routine weight, height, and blood draw from my broviac to test my white blood count. They would then deposit us in a pretty sterile room with colorful pictures.

Guess who comes in next? This cute little nutritionist; I can still see her smiling face if only it was on there for a minute or two. She would measure the fat on my arm and ask me how I was doing. She would then proceed to ask me what I had to eat that day, and then ask me if I was eating my fruit and vegetables at home because she was not happy with my food of choice before coming in. Did you ever have to sit at the table when you were younger until all your food was gone? I did, and the only thing left on my plate would be vegetables. I would sit there for a while until I could get up the gumption to get those things in my mouth without gagging them back up. As a teenager, it was not that bad, but my food of choice was never a vegetable. The nutritionist told us the very same thing visit after visit about how important it was for me and my health to be drinking lots and lots of water and eating “green leafy vegetables because they have so many nutrients for your body.” It was always followed with, “Broccoli and cauliflower are full of cancer fighting properties…” She would get me at broccoli. Nope, not going to have it. I could handle peas, green beans, corn, but come on, broccoli. If I heard that once, I heard it eighteen times; guaranteed. She was absolutely a saint and truly cared about me, and I really did try to listen to her words. Mom did too, and always had them available at the dinner table.

After she left, the doctor would stop in to tell me we were on schedule with the chemo because my counts were good. That was all it took for my spirit to fall to its lowest; like a weight had just been dropped on me. I knew once I got up off this bed I would have to walk down the hall to another room with another very flat bed with crinkly white paper. There were a few monitors in there and always a couple of nurses. I would have a spinal tap, and if they had not done so already, they would hook me up to fluid to get my body working to flush out everything. That is why the nutritionist wanted me to be drinking water. The quicker the chemo is flushed out of the body doing its job along the way, the quicker the recovery afterwards. After the horrible spinal tap, we would start the two hour chemo drip. Sometimes the nausea would start as soon as I would walk in the spinal room. The smell would get me going. Other times, I would not start throwing up until we hit the road or even at home. But nonetheless I would spend the next 24 hours in that state.

Although I would trade anyone, any day for anything but cancer, I embraced this routine for another chance at life. I may not have changed my eating habits to include the vegetables I needed; I actually stuck with tacos and burgers and chicken strips, I really did whatever it took to get better. I worked extra hard and said to myself, “You are strong, and this will be over soon.” This routine became my life. But my strongest routine should have included God. Each and every day He wants to spend time with us, and we should with Him as well. A popular chorus and verse says it perfectly. Matthew 6:33, “But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.” He will bless us spiritually, mentally, emotionally, and physically. We just need to seek Him.

Spring In Our Steps

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11/6/18

April 1990

Home again, home again. We had made it through a crises on top of our crisis. Phew! I was so happy to return home and feel like a normal person. I started to feel like I could do more things and be more myself. Our middle school was having their spring concert, and since I had been in choir before I went into the hospital and my brother was performing as well, I asked if I could go. Dad and mom loaded us up, and when we got there I used a wheelchair because I was still pretty weak. I was able to see so many of my friends, I felt rejuvenated. They dedicated the concert to me, and the next day there was a picture of me sitting in the wheelchair watching the concert on the front page of the local paper. Unbeknownst to us, a reporter from the paper was there to do a story about the concert and heard about what had transpired with our family. You see, we were one of the only Baptist churches in town, and the article mentioned that dad was the pastor at Uinta Bible Baptist Church. God has ways to invite people to church and sometimes it is not through an invitation at the door or work. The whole town knew about us now. At this same time, I wanted to start working on my school work. The school sent out a tutor to help me get through the massive amount of assignments, and I worked extremely hard to get caught up.

My biggest fear came true-my hair started to thin. Mom took me to town one day to get a shorter haircut and take some pictures at the local photographer. She wanted to put together a prayer card to send out to the hundreds of people that had sent cards and gifts to us during my hospitals stays. I was hoping that my hair situation would stay in this mode; just be thin. I mean, I had met kids at the hospital that were on chemo, and they had not lost their hair. I was in denial, because I had seen way more bald heads than ones with hair.

Months before, my parents had made plans to go on a trip for spring break and Easter. We had made quick friends with a family in our church after we arrived in Evanston, but they were moved to Denver for work right before my diagnosis. After much discussion, they decided we should travel down and go on the trip. We had a fantastic visit, but Easter morning about a month and a week after my first encounter with a doctor, my hair began to come out is handfuls. I was in the bathroom brushing my hair and yelled for my mom to come in. I had brushed a massive amount of hair out in the brush. Crying might be an understatement for my reaction. You see, I had had plenty of emotions; tears of pain, anger at doctors and nurses just trying to help me, determination to get better, happiness when getting to go home. You name it, I had run through the gamut of emotions, but this loss of my identity was more than I could handle. Mom started crying as she kept brushing to get the hair contained. When she was done I was basically completely bald and totally devastated and drained of all emotion.

Mom had known this was going to happen, and we had chosen a wig from a store near the hospital when we left the last time. I had told her I did not want to walk around bald like most of the other kids. Showing off my bald head was something that was really hard for me to embrace, so she had spent quite a bit of money on a nice wig. She had brought it with us to Denver along with a couple of scarves and bandanas.

She brought them to the bathroom, and we tried them on. At the time, I was not able to see myself with the wig on, so I chose a bandana. Everyone had left for the church service, and I had mixed emotions about going. We finally decided to go since we hated to miss the Easter service. I was absolutely embarrassed at the way I looked, but our friends were kind and caring about what had transpired. I do remember being glad to go back to their home. The next time I had to leave the house was not so bad, and the next time, and the next time. When we returned home, I started wearing the wig exclusively and only the bandana at night or at chemo. Mom had purchased a Styrofoam head that I put the wig on, and I would style it to make it look more like how I would wear my hair. It was difficult to keep the wig on my bald head, so I used double sided tape to stick it to my scalp, and most days I wore a headband that went all the way around my head to keep it on. At thirteen years old, losing my hair could not have been more traumatic. Everything else faded into the background in comparison to what I looked like on the outside. My looks were my identity and that identity had changed so much with the hair loss.

With the wig on tight, I entered the middle school doors again for the last few weeks of school. I was all caught up with the assignments I had missed and the ones the teachers sent home in case I did not return. Some classes were behind what I had worked on so I was super excited to be back, not playing catch up, and among my friends. I still had to miss every two weeks for a chemo. They were getting to be pretty intense with the side effects. I would basically go to school on the day of chemo until the very last minute I had to get in the car, and then we would either go to Salt Lake or the pediatrician’s office in town. I would be sick for about twenty-four hours, which would make me miss one day of school, and I would head back to school the second day after chemo. I was able to keep up and at the end of May, my friends and I had eighth grade promotion. We were headed to high school!

“Oh, God, you are my God, and I will ever praise you. I will seek you in the morning, and I will learn to walk in your ways. And step by step you’ll lead me, and I will follow you all of my days.” This song is written by David Strasser. I love this song. Step by step; that is the only way I can describe this journey. Each and every step forward, no matter if it is followed by two steps back, is another step in a direction that God is leading. Do we understand why we are taking that step forward in a situation that feels absolutely devastating? We do. Because our Christian life began with a step. A change from our old ways into a new life with Christ. What an awesome step of faith; becoming a child of God! What an awesome step of faith; believing He is in control of our __________________. We each can fill in the blank with what we are going through. We can have absolute faith and confidence that if we follow, God will lead ALL of our days.

A, B, C, D, E, F, G …

10/29/18

March 29, 1990

I mentioned in an earlier post that God orchestrated our path and moved us to a remote town in Wyoming. This state has less than 600,000 people, and its largest town has 63,000 people. Our little town had 10,000 at the time which puts it in the top ten cities in population, and it is located on a major cross country interstate, I-80. Why all of the statistics? Remote, desolate, long winters, no family, but we were 80 miles away from one of the top tier children’s hospitals in the United States, located a few miles north of I-80 in Salt Lake City. Only God knows. If there was any questions of why we moved eighteen months earlier, they were answered.

I was sitting in the hospital in Evanston after the doctor came in and told us I had a bowel obstruction. Dad, with my eldest brother, had left around this time because he had won the city spelling bee and was headed to regionals. Still amazes me that he did so well in the midst of this family situation, but he was a strong student. We had started months before my diagnosis drilling him on a nightly basis with words from the dictionary. He was crazy good at it.

The next step for mom and I; a trip back down to Salt Lake City. The bowel obstruction must resolve, or I was going to have to have surgery. Since I just came from there, the doctors in both locations decided if surgery was the outcome, then I should be back at Primary. They loaded me up in an ambulance because the hospital cannot release me with this kind of diagnosis, and we hit the road to the hospital. This was super surreal. I had experienced a couple of medical issues as a kid. One was a tonsillectomy at three, a broken collarbone from a tree swing made out of a sheet that was not quite tight enough, and the last one was an irregular heartbeat. The heart issue I will touch on later.

I was in the ambulance, and out of the back I could see us leaving town and driving past our church and home because they were on the service road of the interstate. I was so disappointed that I was leaving home again and wondered how long I would be gone. Home seemed like a haven for me, normalcy that I wanted to experience away from the doctors, nurses, needles, smells, etc… I just wanted this all to go away, but I knew something was really wrong with me at the moment. We passed by familiar landmarks that I had seen in the past, but when I was facing the other way in a car. It was almost like I was seeing them for the last time, and I could not understand why. Swirling around my thoughts and feelings, the siren of the ambulance gave me an eerie feeling that all this new stuff that was a part of my life now was no joke. Not going anywhere; not going to be pushed aside for homework, shopping, hanging out with friends, playing volleyball, and even sleeping in my own bed in my own room in my own home with MY family nearby. No, this was all here to stay.

I determined in that ambulance ride that no matter how hard cancer was going to hit me, that I was going to hit back harder. I was going to do whatever it took to “get better.” I physically was going to be as strong as possible and push myself to fight this. I told myself that this was going to be the last time I was going to go to the hospital. I knew God was real and with us, and I cried out to him to take it all away. But on the other side of the coin was the reality that I was super sick at that very moment.

When we arrived at the Salt Lake hospital, they admitted me and shoved a horrible tube down my nose and into my stomach. This NG tube would pump my stomach and relieve abdominal swelling. An enema is administered as well to see if the bowel will release itself. If this does not work, then surgery is about the only option. All my doctors came by to figure this out, because I would not survive a surgery. The incision site was not healing from the lack of white blood cells affected by the chemo, so most likely my body would not survive if surgery was decided on. Mom basically begged them to wait; we were going to pray for a miracle. And we did.

Within two days the obstruction resolved, and the doctors felt like I was in the clear. They administered the second round of chemotherapy I was supposed to receive back home, and after a few more days I was released. Almighty God healed me! And through the doctors’ knowledge, discussions, and procedures for this type of health scare, I was on the mend, inside and outside. My incision was taken care of by the medical staff and there was no other cause for concern. I was definitely placed in the hospital at the right time for there might have been some serious scarring involved that I would have dealt with in the future.

Each of these intermittent rays of sunshine within about a week changed so much of our dark cancer world. It gave us a massive pick-me-up, that for the last month, had been almost non-existent. It was now time to go home! I was more than excited, but I saw just a hint of something on my pillow that was beginning to concern me. Please, don’t tell me it was happening; if I ignore it, it will go away.

A, B, C, D, E, F, G… Words are built and given life by individual letters that come together. Once the word has been given life, it can be used alone like “Hi” or put together to make sentences to communicate. So much of our life is the same as a letter. There are times that the experience is put together and creates a small caveat in our world depending on how we observe it. Or the experience is placed with other experiences, and they come together and make a massive crater. Letters, they can change our lives; experiences they move our world. And God is the hand that holds us tight in and out of the caveats and craters. Isaiah 41:10 “Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.”

What Is Happening Right Now?

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10/23/18

March 23, 1990

“It looks like we are going to send you home. You are tolerating the chemotherapy, you are keeping solids down, your bowels are functioning again after surgery, and you are moving around better.” Those doctor’s words were wonderful music to our ears! The other music had been screeching in our ears for two weeks, and we desperately needed a new genre. Constant beeping from the IV pole and the heart monitor, people talking in the halls, and the blood pressure machine every couple of hours. None of the milestones mentioned in the first line were expectations of the doctors when this all began. But God said otherwise.

Hospital stays are so difficult, or maybe it is just me. At the beginning, I was started on a liquid diet for a few days and lost quite a bit of weight. When Jello was allowed, there was orange, green, and yellow, but I really wanted to have red. Do you know the hospital did not make red Jello? After a couple of days, it appeared on my food tray, and I was absolutely ecstatic! They had made it just for me. After a few days, I began to feel better, and they started weaning me off of pain medication. I was more aware of my surroundings and sleeping less. I really wanted to go home.

By the time we received those joyous words that we were going home, I had received a chemotherapy drip, with the second one scheduled to be administered at my pediatrician’s office in a few days. Two different drips were on my eighteen-month protocol. One drip was two hours and would later be the one that I dreaded. It was associated with the spinal tap, and both of them combined would make me extremely sick. The other drip was four hours long and did not seem to hit me as hard. At any rate, I tolerated them at the hospital, which was a good sign for the doctors. We received tremendous care, and we all understood we would be seeing each other for months to come.

Being home was rejuvenating, but I spent more time sleeping than anything. I was about seventy pounds and pretty weak. It was nice to be around my dad and brothers again. A new group of people to draw strength from. They were a big help, and we settled into just working at getting me strong again. My mom headed back to work to catch up, and the boys continued to go to school. Things changed quickly though. Within a week, I was writhing in pain. Mom made calls to the doctor, and dad loaded me up in the car for a trip to the hospital.

As I mentioned before, Wyoming has winter. This was the first of April, and we had received a snowstorm. On our way to the hospital, dad hit black ice, and the van spun around, flipped, and landed on the passenger side on an embankment. I was in the front passenger seat and remember looking up and seeing my dad hanging from his seatbelt. We were alive, but in a very precarious situation. Dad told me to crawl on the window over the seat, and then I could unbuckle him. By this time, a man driving by had stopped and was talking to us from outside. He and dad decided to see if the back hatch would open up, and we crawled out. I had hurt my leg, maybe when we had landed on that side, so they carried me to his truck. He drove us to our original destination, the hospital, and they started to check on me. I kept saying that my dad was in the wreck, too, and I wanted them to make sure he was fine. Thankfully, we were both injury free.

There was more of situation with the reason we were coming to the hospital. The abdominal pain was excruciating, and my incision was started to come apart. After testing, it came back that I had a bowel obstruction which is a complication from the surgery. Also, the incision was not healing because of the chemotherapy interference. It lowers the white blood cells which are supposed to help in the healing process, and it is possible I had attracted some kind of infection.

I was about to hit rock bottom, and I am pretty sure my family was about to hit the superhero status. I Corinthians 10:13 says “There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.” How can one verse say so much about our God, our Christian lives, and the trials that come our way?

The View From the Mountaintop

10/13/18

3/15/1990

Even if you have no desire to embrace the cancer world, it does not take very long before it embraces you, and your family is plunged head first into a new life. The doctors showed us how much they cared about what was happening to us, and yet pushed my parents forward on decisions that needed to be made immediately. Once we got past the diagnosis and had a protocol in place, we hit the ground running.

I started chemotherapy the day after surgery and also had my first spinal tap. What an ordeal. They made me get in the tightest fetal position I could on my side so they could remove spinal fluid to make sure there was not cancer there, and then they replaced it with chemotherapy. If they did not replace it, I would get a massive headache they told us. Memories of a spinal tap make my stomach turn, and I feel nauseous because I can remember the gurgling sensation at the base of my skull and the cool sensation from the chemo. It is very much like an epidural administered when having a baby. Needless to say, the first tap was a hard one, because I had a gigantic incision on my stomach and sites on my hips from the bone marrow extraction. I was still on quite a bit of pain medication which was helpful but obviously not enough.

The first chemotherapy was uneventful. They administered the drip through an IV that was attached to a crazy apparatus that came out of the middle of my chest. It was basically an IV that had a needle insertion site, and it went up under my skin toward my collarbone and then down into my heart. This would allow the heart to pump the chemo to my body quickly. I really had no affects right away even though they told me about vomiting and hair loss. After a couple of days, I remember thinking that maybe I would not lose my hair; that was pretty important to me.

I was moved from ICU to a regular room. The hospital was really crowded so each room had two kiddos. We were reminded that the new hospital would be opening soon. You could tell the nurses were very excited about it. They did their best to make me comfortable, trying to get me to walk; I refused. Mom recalls that they decided to tell me I had to move rooms, but I would have to walk there. It worked, once I had to walk, I was confident that my stomach was not going to fall out and land on the floor. I still held a pillow on my belly for weeks. My scar was so giant, I kept thinking it looked like I was a gutted deer.

We would end up staying about two weeks in the hospital. The doctors wanted to watch my reactions to the chemo and make sure I was healing well, but mainly they really did not think I would leave. Of course, I was not aware of this; that was my only goal – TO leave. My mom was my rock during this time, comforting me in the pain and making me feel like I could keep moving forward. She was spent physically and emotionally, but never showed me or told me that she had had a fainting spell one morning. After a few days in the hospital, she came down with a migraine which caused a seizure where they had to take her to the regular hospital. That was scary for both of us. She did not want to leave me, and I did not want her to go.

My grandparents came up toward the end of our two weeks, and my grandmother gave my mom a break. Mom was able to go across the street to a room the hospital provided, and dad and mom were able to go for her birthday dinner one evening. As I mentioned before, we had many friends and visitors come by and spend time showing us how much they cared about what we were going through. The cards poured in. The school sent large butcher paper posters with encouraging comments from the whole student body. Churches all over the country sent envelopes filled with cards and notes from church members that we had never met. They cared about us still. They prayed for us still. It did not take much time to realize how important other people meant to us. God’s Word tells us He is our strength in times of trouble, and He hears prayers. Isaiah 40:29 tells us, “He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.” Psalm 66:20 says “Blessed be God, which hath not turned away my prayer, nor his mercy from me.” I know we as a family were living these verses.

Praying is like climbing a mountain. To climb a mountain, we look ahead and map our course not really knowing how hard it will be or even what the outcome will be. There is hope, right, that we can make it even when it gets hard, and we will get to see the amazing view from the top. And the view at the top is really hard to describe unless a person has seen it. When we pray, we have hope that God will map our course, show us where to go and know that no matter the outcome, we will be able to see the amazing view from the top.

I Am Not Sick

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10/7/18

3/15/90

In the faint distance I can hear myself yelling, but nothing is coming out of my mouth. Or was it? Inside I know I am yelling, and all I want to do is tell someone I am in so much pain. What is going on? Why is no one helping me? And then the yell comes out of my mouth, and I can hear someone tell me it is going to be ok. Be still, calm down, you are just waking up from surgery. But I am in so much pain; how can you tell me to calm down?

Waking up in the recovery room after surgery was a very strong memory. I could hear so many different noises; people talking, machines beeping, oxygen flowing, my own voice… And I could remember smells of antiseptic, Beda dine, rubbing alcohol… I was truly scared and was being picked up by the sheet under me and placed onto another bed. They pushed me through doors into ICU. Faint memories as I was in and out of consciousness were later filled in by my parents as they shared with me what transpired. I was very upset most of the time, mainly because I was in so much pain. At one point, I remember hearing my mom talking to the doctor, and she asked him how she was suppose to tell me I had cancer. My immediate thoughts were: What? They told us they were going to take this tumor out, and I was going home. This was not supposed to be happening.

Cancer?

That is so bad. I asked my mom if it was cancer, and she said yes. All I could do was cry, but did I really know what that meant? I fell back to sleep. Hours passed, and each time I woke up, I was more aware of my surroundings. The oncology doctor came in and greeted us with an amazingly kind and caring face. He made this crazy situation one that seemed not so crazy. He brought the comfort to the room. After a couple of days, we had a serious talk. He shared with us that I had Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and we would start a chemotherapy treatment the next day, then every two weeks for 18 months. Along with the chemo treatments they would do a spinal tap each month. My parents had already been given this information and what would be happening. It was my turn to hear it.

Later on my parents shared with me what went on while I was in surgery. During surgery, the doctor had reported to them that I had a tumor from my diaphragm down that covered my entire abdomen. He could not remove any of it because of the large amount of cancer and its proximity to the organs. One ovary was removed, which was used for the biopsy. This was the lump I felt that my mom and I had discussed a couple of weeks before. They had also done a bone marrow test, which is one of the main reasons I was in so much pain, and they had inserted a broviac line, an IV tube that came out of my chest for administering chemo drugs. My body was all riddled with stitches. When everything was done, I had an eighteen-inch-long incision down the middle of my stomach, and the cancer closed back in underneath it.

I was also connected to every hospital tube known to man and not a happy camper. It was extremely difficult for me to accept this whole ordeal. Mainly because I was healthy at the beginning of the week, so how could all of this be necessary? This silent killer called cancer was literally holding my life in the balance, and I did not realize my odds were not so good. I really just wanted to get out of there. In the next few days, my dad returned home to be with my brothers and brought them up to see us. My closest friend that I had met the first day in the new school in the new town, spent hours with me. She rallied the kids at school, and we also had many of them drive the 80 miles down and visit with us. Our wonderful church family and local pastors came up to spend time with my parents. The support we received was overwhelming. The hospital room filled to capacity with flowers, stuffed animals, balloons, large posters, and cards. The prayers filled in any space that was left.

II Timothy 1:7 “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” This verse refers to a believer and their ability to share Christ with others. We have been given power and love and a sound mind so we can share with others that God loves and wants each person to accept His Son to be their Savior. But this verse is also an encouragement to the believer in other ways. Fear is definitely an emotion that comes with cancer. Maybe it is the fear of what is going to happen next after what just unexpectedly happened last. With cancer there is never a plan that goes as planned; there is just a plan that goes. But God has a plan and sees that fear and brings a multitude of people with a multitude of loving hearts that bring before Him a multitude of prayers.

Not Just About Me

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9/28/18

Before we can move on with the words from the doctors, we have to focus on four very important people whose lives would be forever changed by those words. It was not just my life. As I mentioned before, two brothers and a dad and mom were very much a part of my thirteen years leading up to this day in March. Well, dad and mom for thirteen, a brother for twelve and another one for four. My eldest brother was just a year younger than me; fourteen months. When we were little I was always on the smaller side so the one time I cut my hair, we looked like twin boys. Nice! I was the bossy older sister, and he was the creative but willing follower. We had fun, and as our surroundings changed with the move, not much changed; except for the growing up. He did fantastic in school, and as I mentioned before was making progress up the Spelling Bee ladder. He did not join us when we went to the hospital, but my dad brought both brothers up later. Feelings about what was going on were on his face because he was a caring person. I appreciated that more than I ever expressed. Later he would help me keep normalcy alive; which was difficult because of the new normal that I would have a hard time accepting.

Little brother was a fun guy to be around; full of life. He was so much younger than us, but we enjoyed him all the same. I think he was the first one to catch onto skiing-down the little hill behind the house. During the beginning of the doctors and hospitals, he spent time with friends and sitters. I noticed he was not around the hospital as much mostly because he was younger, and what could he do? He made up for it later by lying beside the couch after chemo, helping me with the puke bucket.

My parents jumped right into cancer parent mode. What are those? Well, first off what is cancer and how does it happen and why does it happen and what kind and what is the plan of action and what was that chemo drug called?… Their child has cancer and they are responsible for the decisions they make to keep them alive. Every piece of information out there has to be discovered through research, and back then there were no smart phones. My parents, and especially my mom who was by my side the whole time, asked questions, and when there was not an answer she would ask the next nurse or the next doctor and the next. My dad took care of the boys and the church duties.

Cancer parents should get an official medical degree for the amount of time they spend finding out what is inside their child. They have the knowledge that most doctors do when it is all said and done. And they also should receive a gold medal. We all understand a gold medal is placed upon a winner of an event, and most of the time it reminds us of an Olympic athlete. Although I have never been an Olympian, I have seen their stories about the beginning stages and their first accomplishments in the particular event, many starting very young. They all spend hour after hour practicing to compete, until they hit the Olympic stage. Then many times in a timed event, they have to compete liked they trained, and hope they trained harder than the person beside them so they come out in front of them and stand on the winner’s podium. Then they receive the gold medal for being ahead of the rest who worked just as hard to get there.

Why do cancer parents need a gold medal? Because at the beginning stages, they work on this particular “event,” and spend hour after hour asking questions and studying about their child’s cancer. Then they compete against time to make the right decisions with the knowledge they have acquired. They are competing in a race not to beat someone else just something else, but sometimes that something else wins. The end results of an Olympic race differ from this race; more than one person gets the gold medal. The cancer parents. They heard the news their child has cancer, figured out how to process those words, went through the emotions on the inside while staying strong on the outside, and had to put one foot in front of the other to fight to win a cancer race. Yes, they deserve the gold.

Not just one person goes through cancer. Their family does. And although the family is not waking up from surgery, or receiving the chemo drugs, or throwing up every fifteen minutes, or losing their hair, or getting sores in their mouth… they ARE watching their loved one suffer, and they cannot help except for driving them to chemo, or sitting by their side for hours, or singing to them, or holding the puke bucket, or being yelled at when it hurts… It hurts them, too. I have said many times, I felt like cancer was harder on the family then on me. I was just trying to physically survive any way possible.

I Corinthian 13 is the Love Chapter. It speaks of love or charity, and all of its different aspects. “Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things.” God has shown this love to us when He became man and died on the cross for our sins. This love is demonstrated in this verse and is an example of the love we have in a family. I thank God for my family and their love. They were my earthly rocks to stand on to face the difficult times that would lie ahead.

The Pink Stuff

9/26/18

The list of my activities in the new school: choir, volleyball, basketball, and track. Singing, cleaning, and youth activities were added to my list for the new church. The new home brought a new room with organizing my clothes and shoes and doing my homework. My parents worked at the church and for the school district. By the beginning of our second year in Wyoming, my brother and I were starting school again in eighth grade and sixth grade in the same building. Our youngest brother spent time with another family in the church during the day until he would start school the next year.

Winter came, and we were still getting used to the first snow falling in October. It was pretty hard spending so much time indoors, so my brother started Spelling Bee competitions which we worked on at home. He was doing very well. In addition, we quickly found ourselves learning to ski as a family. These Texans caught on a little, and soon enjoyed the snowy outdoor life. In February, I felt this weird hard spot in my lower abdomen. Mom and I talked about it and decided that we would see if it was just a part of being a teenage girl.

March 1990

Within a few weeks, I woke up on a Monday morning and did not feel well enough to go to school. The flu, that is what it was. Achy and feeling pretty wiped out. My mom said I could stay home from school, and we went to the doctor. The pediatrician did not seem concerned until my mom mentioned that I had this hard spot in my stomach, and maybe he should check it out. After the examination of my stomach, he said that I was either 3 months pregnant, or I had a tumor. My mom’s eyes got huge and she firmly said, “She is not pregnant.” Ask mom, I probably looked exactly like her, because I immediately said, “I am not pregnant; I don’t even have a boyfriend!” This was verbalized partly because there were cute guys at school but I knew “none of them liked me.”

The doctor said that we would need to do a CT scan to see what we were dealing with. He sent us home with this awful pink drink that made me gag. I could not believe that any medical concern would require me to drink this awful stuff, and furthermore there was absolutely nothing wrong with me! The next morning after downing only a little bit of the pink stuff, we arrived at the hospital, and the nurses told me I have to drink more, because I did not finish the first one. I was not having it, but I did what I could to get by, and they took me back. I was in a new world, surrounded by all these machines, and once I got back there, they injected more dye in my veins through a needle.

After the whole ordeal, there was a waiting period, and my pediatrician came and got us. I remember so vividly walking into a dark room with films hanging up all over on glass walls. The doctor began to explain what each of the pictures were, and I realized at that moment this was not a good situation. Those pictures in front of me and the explanation from the doctor were going to change my thirteen-year-old life forever. I was totally unaware of that.

The pictures showed me black blobs. I remember the doctor explaining to us where a certain organ was, “and surrounding it we see there is a tumor.” He said that about all my abdominal organs. In my mind, I deducted that we could not see anything because of the “black blob”. I did not realize that was not good. That day, we headed to Salt Lake City which was about 80 miles away. There was a well-known Primary Children’s Hospital which had a fantastic oncology center. The hospital was located downtown at the time, and I was going to be admitted to have surgery to remove the tumor. It was pretty busy in the hospital, and we passed a couple of kids in beds in the hall in transition between rooms. They told us that the hospital was constantly running out of space, but that a new hospital was within days of opening up just a few miles away.

I remember feeling anxious because of the results of the CT scan. I was also aware that we were about to do surgery and remember the doctor come in to talk to us. He mentioned they recently did surgery on another girl that came in and had her tumor removed because it was benign. That is what they were hoping they could do with me. Or that is what they were telling me. Through this time, I know my parents were receiving much more information than I was. My dad’s pastor friends from the Salt Lake area came by to pray for me, and I was quite aware that God was in control; just not fully aware. I do not remember thinking to myself that He was going to take care of me or of a peace that came over me. I kept saying to myself, “Let’s just get this over with.” I was so done with this hospital thing already, and besides, I had schoolwork I needed to catch up on. It is so hard to explain how I could be in such denial to the happenings around me.

Even though I was not really excepting the situation at the time, throughout the process and many years later, I learned how much my God was taking care of me. These verses below show God’s direction and power; bringing them to life for a Christian. They show us how He knows all about us and the things we go through, and the psalmist recognizes how we can praise God for those things because we have chosen to follow Him.

Psalm 139:1-5, 14

“O Lord, thou hast searched me, and known me, Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off. Thou compassest my path and my lying down, and art aquainted with all my ways. For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O Lord, thou knowest it altogether. Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me… …I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvelous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.”

Where Is That Place?

forest_pathway_detail

9/22/18

Because there are so many details that are pertinent in a story like mine, I do have to start quite a few years before my cancer diagnosis. My mom grew up in a Christian home and accepted the Lord as her savior early on in life. My dad was saved and surrendered to be a preacher by the time he was nine years old. They both went to Bible college, got married, graduated, and headed out to serve in a ministry in North Dakota where I was born. Shortly after, they moved to another ministry in Oklahoma where my brother was born, and then back to Texas where they met. My dad was asked to be the pastor at a church in their hometown when I was five, and because this was where they grew up, their parents and siblings all lived in the same area. Everything was so wonderful in the eyes of a kid my age. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins all lived nearby with many of them attending our church, and there were many family gatherings were exciting and memorable.

My brother and I attended the Christian school across the street from the church. We lived one street over, and walked and rode our bikes to school and all over the neighborhood to play with friends. My mom had our youngest brother during this time, and we stayed busy playing with him after school, as well. One day, my parents came in my room, and said they needed to tell me something. My dad had decided to take the family and go see a church in far southwestern Wyoming. I remember asking why and thinking, “I am not quite sure I really know where that state is.” I looked it up because I knew Colorado and Wyoming looked just alike, and I wanted to make sure I knew which one it was. After we returned home, my dad accepted the call to the church, and we loaded up a moving truck and a minivan and headed away from family and friends on a new adventure.

We, or should I say I, had no idea what the Lord would do in our lives from this point on. I know He had already been directing our paths and showing my parents that He was in control up to this point, but at twelve, I was a little disappointed and confused but mainly nervous. Sometimes I think about current decisions that my husband and I face right now and wonder if that was what my parents were going through at the time. I can imagine that it might be similar, and I appreciate their step of faith into the unknown.

If I recall correctly, we arrived a week after the public school started, so I headed to seventh grade and my brother to fifth grade. I remember walking in after school had started that morning, and the principal greeting us. After a conversation, they took me down this long hallway and outside of Science class I think, I was introduced to a girl. Cliché, we became fast friends. No, really, we did not leave each other’s side for years. Who knew I would need that introduction to this girl that would be a support to me, and who introduced me to other seventh graders that would eventually, outside of my parents and church family, be the support on this earth to walk through a valley. God knew. He had guided the steps of my parents up to this point in our lives. He had brought them together, showed them a path to take serving Him in the ministry, have a family, and move them to a small, remote town in Wyoming. This move was truly important in our lives not only because of the church my dad accepted, but for the proximity it was to a place we would visit often. We truly had no idea how important.

Psalm 37:23 tells us, “The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord; and he delighteth in his way.” It is hard to know God’s direction sometimes, but if we stay in His Word and seek counsel through those He places in our lives, the path will seem more clear to us. God wants us to follow Him, because His path is right. Whatever the journey, whatever the circumstances, whatever the outcome, He will show us the way, and then He will show us why.

The Journey Begins

9/3/18

Sitting at a restaurant recently, my friend and I ordered my favorite Sushi rolls, since it was all new to her. We spent a couple of hours talking about family, children, schooling, cancer, children (she has quite a few), church and ministry… Oh, did I mention cancer and children. She has a little one going through cancer, and quite a few years ago, 28 to be exact, I went through many of the things her little one is currently facing. Kind of ironic that our paths crossed about 15 years ago, and we became fast friends; that after moves to different cities and life changes, we still pick up where we left off? Not irony, but an Almighty God that orchestrates our every step and leads us down smooth, healthy paths most of the time with the occasional rocky, mountain trails mixed in.

I realized when we parted ways, I needed to write down my journey to where I am today. A blog seems more like putting down encouraging words for the day, so telling a story from almost 30 years ago seems a bit abnormal. But it also seems important, because there are many people today going through the exact same things just in a different way.

So this begins a new chapter in a journey that I believe is directed by a loving God that chooses paths for us to take to be an example of that love. People say that if God loves than why does He make bad things happen to good people. If we read in the Bible in the book of Job, God chose a man that went through prosperity and then lost everything, yet he never turned his back on God. Everyone around him told him to curse God, but he refused, and God returned to him the things he had lost. Job is not just an example of if you stay the course, God will bless, but he is an example of stay the course.

God does not always give back to us what we have lost like He did for Job, but He always gives us hope and peace in the journey if we keep our trust in Him. Proverbs 3:5, 6 says “Trust in the LORD with ALL thine heart and lean not unto thine own understanding. In ALL thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”

I began my journey in September 2018, so it helps to begin there. A drop down at the very bottom of this page should take you there quickly if you keep scrolling. Thank you for choosing to be a part of this journey.

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