Category: Bald

Now We All Know…

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4/7/20

Since my 30 year Cancerversary post, I have had many other memorable moments that occurred thirty years ago. My diagnosis was March 15, 1990, and then a few days later we left the hospital only to return within a week because of a bowel obstruction. This obstruction was resolved only by God’s sovereign hand because my mom begged the doctor’s not to do surgery which would be the second one in a matter of a couple of weeks. Doctors in Salt Lake City told her if it does not resolve, we must do surgery, but if we do not do surgery she will die. Mom knew surgery would kill me and at that one moment, my parents made the decision that there would be no surgery. Putting me in God’s hand again for the umpteenth time in a matter of a month, God said, “I got this.” Within 36 hours, the bowel obstruction resolved, and we were headed back to Wyoming. Two weeks later, on Easter morning, my hair fell out. This weekend coming up is about Jesus’ Resurrection and one of redemption and saving grace. It means all of that to me and so much more because it is another Cancerversary for me. Reminders of what I went through, spiritually and physically. Redemption, healing, and saving grace.

Since my last post, the whole country’s population has changed the way we do life. I sit outside not watching a baseball game or practice like we have done in the Spring for the last twelve years, but I am watching kids in the neighborhood draw with sidewalk chalk on the driveways and ride their bikes up and down the street. Baby doll carriages and cartwheels mixed with remote control cars and makeshift ramps litter the sidewalks and new grass. I purchased a small little perennial a few years ago and the return of the tiny little perfect, purple flowers show everyone it made it through winter and it is time to shine. Thank goodness. It is so beautiful.

But the reality of why I am in this place this evening sets in, and I sit and ponder. You see, the new reality that we all are living for such a time as this, can be nothing new to a cancer patient. Yes, many of us know cancer patients that still attend events, church services, go to work or school, and do not even wear a mask, but I would submit that the majority live a life like most of us are living right now.

In my experience, my chemotherapy was every two weeks and each time we went in, we had to do blood work to see if my WBC or white blood count was high enough to receive the chemo. Chemo not only knocks down the cancer cells but also the healthy cells that fight any infections. The reason for treatments every two weeks, in my case, were so that the WBC could build back up because they were being knocked down so far by hard core chemotherapy drugs. On at least two occasions, at the two week mark my counts were low, and we had to go home. How I did not get sick is a miracle in itself because I was in 9th and 10th grade, and daily going to school. All that to say, infections were very much a concern after each treatment. Wearing a mask, washing my hands, and homeschooling were the norm at the beginning. I refused a mask, homeschooling, and prayed for low counts not really taking into consideration the magnitude of my susceptibility to infections and germs. My parents worked hard to protect me, especially with the prayers they sent to Heaven on my behalf.

Cancer patients and their families who take treatments seriously, will do whatever it takes to keep those germs away, as we all are doing now. They will skip an event, they will stay home from school, they will use hand sanitizer and masks all because they are highly susceptible to the outside bad stuff. I do not really believe they live in fear, but they know somewhat what the consequences are, as we have heard and are living our lives right now. They live years like this as long as they are on treatments, and they want to get back to normal as soon as possible. Yet the side effects will live on forever. We hope our lives get back to normal soon, yet so many lives are changed forever as well. Now we ALL know, to an extent, how a cancer patient lives.

God tells us in His word there is a time for everything.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and time to die; a time to plant, and time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and time to cast away; A time to rend, and time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.”

God has all the time in His hands. As Christians, we understand each and every thing in this life and all the happenings are for a purpose; for a reason that we may not understand at that time. But praise be to God, “He has this.”

 

 

 

 

A Day in The Life of a Teenager

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1/28/19

October 1991

Have we ever thanked God for our hair? Many people, many teenagers and women, sometimes do the opposite with their hair. It is funny because I have had this conversation a hundred times with others. If someone has straight hair, which I raise my hand right now because mine is stick straight, those people look at someone with curly hair and may want just an iota of those waves. Then someone with curly hair may look at those with straight hair and think it would be nice to have less curls. No matter the texture of the hair we have, it might be a thought that runs through our mind what it would be like to have curly? Straight? Short? Long? But have we ever thanked God for the hair we have been given by God?

When I was bald and nearing the end of my chemotherapy regimen, I told myself that once my hair grew out I would never complain about my hair or a bad hair day ever again. Now, I do not think that I have stuck to that statement, but bad hair days hardly happen because I am constantly reminded what it was like to have no hair for more than two years of my life. At the ages of 13, 14, and 15 to be exact! I spent those years in a wig and worrying about it coming off in the wind walking into school or a store or some place that I would be totally devastated if someone saw me. I did not embrace the bald is beautiful, but I think that is ok. Each and every chemo patient can be confident in different things about their situation, and no two people are alike when faced with this disease. Why do I say that? Because a cancer patient has to have confidence in something, or it is a struggle to live.

I was truly confident in other things about my cancer. In the back of my mind I knew that I may not get well and have a normal life again, but those thoughts were so far back there, they only surfaced a couple of times. The confidence that I was going to get well and have a normal life again were prominent. They pushed me every day to get out of bed, get dressed, go to school, work really hard at my classwork, come home and work really hard on homework, go to bed, and do it again the next day. My brothers and parents kept things normal for me as well with breakfast together, and bike riding, and sporting events, and Saturday morning cartoons. Those thoughts of normalcy pushed me to live a life of a teenager that many can relate to. I really kept cancer away, which makes me chuckle because it was so prominent in my every day life, especially when I took off my hair to shower and go to bed. I focused on friendships and the good and bad that came with that, like “Why was she mad at me?” or “I cannot believe she did that!” to “I think he likes me.” When I look back on my diaries during these years, they went somewhat like this:

“Today I had a history test and failed it so bad, and we started our songs in girl’s Jazz choir for the spring concert. I am so excited! So and so and me get to go shopping tomorrow in SLC. I really need a new shirt really bad to go with my new shoes. When we get done my mom is taking us to eat at… So and so at school likes so and so, and I like him, too, but he will not even look at me. I am just going to forget him and find someone else to like! He is not worth it. I had chemo Monday.”

As I flipped through my beloved diaries from this time of cancer and chemo, no lie, every single one of them were just like the above paragraph. Trying to be confident in normalcy? You bet. Cancer patient? Definitely, just a teenage one at that. In all areas of life, I believe we have to have a positive outlook, a confidence in something. I put my trust in the Lord Jesus Christ when I after diagnosis, and I did and can fully, 100% trust Him to love me, guide me, direct me, and heal me. I put my confidence and trust in Him 100%, but during this time in my teenager mind, I had to tell myself, “Just be normal,” and those words gave my teenager mind a better outlook for my situation, and I believe it really helped me feel better. It did not heal my body, but it healed my mind.

Also, at the forefront of my mind was the fact that my last scheduled chemotherapy was in October. The month before we had the virus scare thinking it had returned. We walked into this chemo with excitement and hesitation because we had questions about the future. Before I started on my drip, we met with the oncologist. My mom asked questions about what we should expect within the next few months, which the doctor said he would see us in three months for a scan unless there were any concerns before that. At that time, they would remove the broviac because I would hopefully no longer be needing it. I would continue to return every three months until the one year mark, and then every six months for a couple of years, and then every year up to five years from the last treatment. At this time, the term “cure” would be assigned if there was no reoccurrence or chance of reoccurrence. Wow, so this was not going away for a long time for me. But I would not be returning at this time for any more treatments. We were really excited with the prognosis.

We also discussed my body and the side effects of the chemotherapy long term. Two of the drugs were known to cause infertility and the fact that I had one ovary removed because of the cancer, I should realize that having a family might be difficult when the time came. I thought about that discussion, and it bothered me, but I also thought that having a family would pass on my cells that were at one time cancerous. I would later come to a conclusion that I would never want to bring a child into this world and have to have them go through what I went through. No way, no how. It did not seem logical or kind to do such a thing to someone. But I was not fully trusting in God with that frame of mind. My future was still quite blurry; like most people.

Philippians 1:6 tells us that we can be confident in the gospel, Christ, who has begun a good work in us and will perform it until He comes back. My confidence may have been in things outside of Christ, like trying to live a normal life going through cancer treatments, but that confidence always fell back on the fact that God gave me that life to live. I realized I could have died and God saved me. I realized that I could not do this, and wanted to quit, but God gave me new medicines. I realized that the cancer might be back one month before the last chemotherapy, but God was just checking out our confidence in Him. All the bumps in the road got me to this last chemotherapy with a fully renewed life and trust in my God who actually brought me to this last chemotherapy.

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

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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.”

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.