Plans Change Constantly

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11/6/19

Fall 1997/Spring 1998

Is there really anything more to say when the cancer has been cured, and a person is going on with life? Just because chemotherapy, constant trips to the doctor, IV tubes, CT scans, throwing up, and hair loss is not my life now, cancer is a part of me daily. And because of that daily reminder, I feel like this journey is still worth sharing. I am a cancer survivor, having been at the lowest of lows and in the depths of despair and death. Fortunately for me at this time, I am not there; but unfortunately, others are.

When life happens, whether we label it as “good times” or “bad times,” we have to live life. Psalm 139 is such a strong chapter, I want to hold on to it today.

“O Lord, thou has 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 acquainted 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. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain it. Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee.”

Summary: Good times and bad times are known to our God, and wherever we go, He is there. Wherever we go physically, mentally, emotionally our Wonderful, All-Knowing, All-Powerful God resides in Heaven watching. When we feel like it is too dark to God, it shines brighter to Him. Good times and bad times are no different to Him; granted, they are to us.

While beginning my senior year of college, I was looking at pretty cool times. The totem pole had my name at the top; life was so exciting. Shortly into the fall semester, our family had a significant change. My dad, who was a part of the board of directors at the college, had been asked to be a part of the faculty on campus. He accepted, and planned to move the rest of the family down to southern California in January of 1998. CANCER SCARE! During this process, I had noticed a hard spot that raised major concerns in my heart and head of a recurrence. Man, the thoughts and anxieties that occurred. After doctor appointments, it was decided to remove what they classified as a fatty tissue tumor. I would return home at Christmas break and have the surgery. Senior year, fall semester: beginning-good times, middle-bad times, middle-good times, Christmas-bad times, good times. I have an immediate thought of a Charlie Brown character with a giant mouth open wide screaming, “AAUGH.” My life was in craziness mode; I may not have been doing a good job trusting God here.

I remember coming home and help pack the house up and then saying goodbye to the most precious people in my life for the last nine years. Our little church in southwest Wyoming had grown to include wonderful people who had stood by our family’s side during some of the hardest times in our lives. God was moving us away from them. Why? He knew the reason. That move along with other decisions were instrumental in where I am today in all aspects of my life. After saying goodbye at church, I entered a hospital which I had sworn off ever placing another foot in the door. Returned back into the cold, white walled surgery room with the hard bed and a gazillion medical instruments, and let a doctor take another knife and cut me open. Check – another surgery to add to my resume’. Cancer, heart, benign tumor… The tumor was just as they had said AND we had hoped, so we left two days later, saying goodbye to a place that we loved so much. We return every few years to visit with many of those friends and see God’s beauty in the mountains.

At the same time my home address changed, I was in search of my future address because graduation was just around the corner. What in the world would I be doing and where would I be? During this time, I was student teaching, and after a few days I was 100% certain God had NOT been leading me into teaching. No way, no how would I want to go into the classroom. It was an extremely rough classroom situation. I was totally wrong about my career! At the same time, I was approached about going back to the church camp I went two summers ago to work for the summer. With no other future plans, I signed up to return after graduation to Colorado; my future address was still undetermined. That would change quickly.

Within a couple of months and many turn of events, my parents would be moving to Oklahoma because the entire college was moving. I knew one thing: I was going with my parents after my summer in Colorado. Before and right at graduation, I would be offered a couple of teaching positions, but since my future did not have TEACHER in it anymore, those were easy decisions. Again, Charlie Brown – AAUGH!

But as a planner, things were being planned for me, and the good times and bad times were aligned; I was ok with that. At least I did not have cancer, even though it had raised its ugly head at me again, in a way. I knew at that point that I was going to have to keep this cancer past in my periphery, not the back of my mind. It would not be going away as easily as I had tried to remove it. God had made me aware that He was still in control, and after my amazing life-changing college lessons, my relationship with Him had changed dramatically. He was so good to me. I stood amazed at who He was and trusted Him for my past and my future. Proverbs 13:12 is my life verse and pushes itself at me constantly. I have used it once already in a past post. “Hope deferred maketh the heart sick, but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life.”

We Do Not Know What We Are Missing…

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10/28/19

Summer 1997

A recent sermon, make that many recent sermons, that I have heard have been about prayer. Boy, do I need the reminder. People have needs, and prayer is the conduit between us and our Faithful to Listen God. Answers are not necessarily readily available, but how many times have we heard someone say that prayer changed everything or they knew prayers were being sent up to God. Like a thousand times here! I am an obvious answer to prayer, and much of my life is as well. But, I would like to submit that some Christians would like to change their prayer life to be more meaningful. A prayer life that sees God and feels His presence. To develop this, we have to take time out of our lives and show God we mean business.

When the team and I went to the Philippines between my Junior and Senior year of college, we experienced many major life lessons. Of course, the lack of things that people have in other countries hits a person right in the face when that person was born in America. We see the videos and pictures on TV. They are portrayed to us pretty accurately from what I have seen even on a recent mission’s trip to Peru. But as a college student, it was the first time for me to see them in real life. I will never forget what I learned though. Even when the people of these countries seem to lack everything we take for granted, they are not lacking anything. Why? Because they do not know what they are missing. The way they live is all they know. They do not realize that their home could have an actual floor and not dirt, or their windows could have screens and panes and not just wood that swings out to let air and light in. They do not realize that sewage should not flow in the cut out ditches next to the road, or their clothes do not match because they were hand me downs from the local missionary who received them from Americans.

A small little, old Filipino lady beat me up with her words as we sat across from her in her one room shack with dirt floors. Through an interpreter she said that she was happy the way things were for her, and she would never change it. But the young people of her country see that Americans have so much and the only thing they want to do is go to America. They work hard in school trying to get good grades so they can get on a list to go to a college in America or try to get a job there. “Their only goal in life is to get to America.” That was crazy to me. These people had so little and never knew they had little until they saw that Americans had so much, and they wanted that life. They were the happiest, kindest people I had ever met, yet they wanted to be me?

Why did these people, whom we would consider poor and impoverished but who really were not, want to be me? It made me think what was my purpose in life? Who was I and where would I be going? I did not realize I had not answered those questions before. I did not know what I did not have was missing because I had never had it. The older people in this country were in the same boat with material things; the younger people had figured it out. They saw what was missing and knew they wanted something different. I needed to pray about this phenomenon in my life because cancer was instrumental in whom I had become.

I was not missing material things life food, clothes, family, friends. I had that covered. I had all of the things needed for a cozy dorm room, good grades, and a goal set to teach in the classroom. There was a fantastic job in college and a car to drive there. Plus, I would be graduating in a year. Absolutely nothing was missing from my life until the above questions came to light. The people from another country help me to get a hold of God in a new way and ask for the guidance that I did not know was missing. The direction in where I should be going, and who was I, really. So enlightening. I began to see answers to those questions as I searched. God gave me a peace about my career path, which would waver, unfortunately, but He would still be there to show me He was in control. God gave me a sense of purpose; looking at lost souls with a new set of eyes, and sharing the Gospel with them. He would answer for me who I was, and why He had chosen me to have cancer.

Cancer is followed by the word why. It really helps us see our prayer life in a real light. But if cancer is not near or has been placed in the far corners of our minds, what do we really pray about? Do we have a time and place for our prayers? Honestly, we NEED the time and place. God is felt and moves in our spirit and soul when we kneel before Him and fellowship in prayer. Most likely we will have a prayer list, but maybe the list should be shorter. Then we could intercede at a more intimate level when we concentrate on that name on the list and pray about their inner self, their well-being, and their needs. People all around us need us. Not only them, but we need us. We need to pray and really pray. I tend to be pretty faithful about lifting someone up in prayer when I am driving. It is a good time for me, but I would like to take more time in my “prayer closet” for me and my fellowship with a God who took my life a totally different direction than I had expected. He is pretty real to me, so I want to be the person He wants me to be.

Psalm 39:12, “Hear my prayer, O Lord, and give ear unto my cry; hold not thy peace at my tears: for I am a stranger with thee, and a sojourner, as all my fathers were.”

Life Is Good

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9/13/19

Fall 1996

Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. I am very much aware of this because my dear friend lost her little girl this year, and she is sharing her story. I am also a Childhood Cancer Survivor so of course I think about it this month. But what does this really mean to me? I have basically sat back and been a statistic: at thirteen, I was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, had eighteen months of chemotherapy and spinal taps, was told cancer free and cured at seventeen. Survivor. Made it! Done.

But cancer has never left my life; it just left my body. Sure, I have not walked around telling every person I meet, “I am a cancer survivor!” Why not? I am not quite sure how to answer that, but I do know that God has placed on my heart about a year ago to tell my story. Again, the audience is small, but someone I know, let us make that, many someones I know have been or are being affected by cancer. And if any one of the someones need another step forward, maybe hearing my story will help their brain tell the nervous system to move down to the muscles in the leg and make that foot take the next step to fight this horrendous disease. Because most days, it does not feel like it is worth the fight; cancer takes so much from a person.

Childhood Cancer Awareness Month is a great time to become aware of children with cancer, and the research to fight those cancers is critical. As with most cancer patients, the family will be involved with the fight, but with a child who has their whole life ahead of them, their family is their only way of making it through. How important is family? Very. In previous posts I have shared about my family and their fight along with me to conquer this disease, and then about two of my family member’s same fight in the years that followed my diagnosis. I pretty much hate cancer. And then on the other hand I am grateful for the story I get to tell. God has done some AMAZING things in my life through Childhood Cancer.

In my cancer story timeline, I have completed eight weeks at a summer camp listening to God and seeing Him work in my life. I met a super fantastic, over the top friend who was my roommate at camp, and we quickly decided to request to be roommates in college since she was headed there for her first year and me my junior year. We were granted that request and parted ways after camp excited about being roomies again in a few weeks. I spent a couple of weeks at home and my brother, who was also planning to join me at college, and I packed up our cars and parents and headed to So. Cal. I will mention here that So. Cal. is a great place to go to college! For one, the weather is wonderful! Living in Wyoming for nine years where they say we have nine months of winter and three months where the snow is not as bad, is a bit of an overstatement, but we have shot off many a firework with snowflakes falling. That means: it snowed on the Fourth of July at least twice! Back to So. Cal. There was Six Flags, Disneyland, Knotts Berry Farm all within 30 minutes to an hour and every beach about an hour. Anyway, I enjoyed living there.

My brother and I were very excited for the new school year, and we were ready for it to begin. I was assigned a new dorm as assistant RA and my new roommate and I settled in to the college schedule. We also had fun times with a group of friends that was quickly growing. She had come down with some from her church, and I had also reconnected with my friends from the previous year. Life Was Good! I remember being on a spiritual high from the summer and anxious for the chapel services and guest speakers visiting the campus.

I had an easy life, far from my four years of cancer life. Who needs cancer? It was extremely easy to leave that all behind and enjoy what I had to the nth degree. But why is it, we go through something, and because it does not have place in our lives at the time, we push it aside and focus on other things? For me, I was moving on; I did my time and wiped my hands clean of all the ugliness of cancer. Is that bad? No, probably not. But other people are going through trials, and I should care. When Life Is Good, it is someone else’s trial. True, but I would NEVER have been able to recover, first without the Lord, and second without family and friends. Sure, I was determined to beat it myself, which is crucial, but my family and friends were my ROCK, no doubt about it. Those that prayed for me, yes, God heard those prayers. He tells where two or three are gathered in His name, He is there Matthew 18:20. Prayer is essential, but so are actions.

Raising my hand, I would be the first to admit, my cancer advocacy is non-existent, but my husband and I have invested ourselves into where we feel most compelled and that is our church and the precious people that attend with us. I applaud those organizations and groups and research for what they are doing because those people helped me fight the fight. Thank you. But many times I get complacent and sit back and say, Life is Good. Those around me are doing well, too.

Let us make sure that those trials around us stay fresh in our minds. When the diagnosis is a few months removed, are we still praying for them? When that friend who was critically injured in a car wreck, they are home and their car is crushed at the salvage yard, are we still praying or calling them up and asking if they need anything today? When that special friend lost her little one, how is she doing? Pray today for them, and then act. Not sure what actions should be taken because I feel inferior in this area, but there has to be something out there we can do. Others are worth it, right? We have our own families to care for and those around us to invest in, I understand, but let us not forget about others where the Life is NOT so Good. They will remember us when it is our turn.

James 5:13-15, “Is any among you afflicted? let him pray. Is any merry? let him sing psalms. Is any sick among you?… ….And the prayer of the faith shall save the sick”… Galatians 5:13, “For, brethren, ye have been called unto liberty; only use not liberty for an occasion to the flesh, but by love serve one another.”

That’s What Friends Are For

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8/15/19

Spring/Summer 1996

Yes, I had the necklace above. And, yes, these type are still being bought by teens and kids today. I would have an extremely hard time keeping my head up if I had one for each of my friends over the years that I keep in contact with often, and then one for each of my friends who are in my life right now. I chuckle at the picture that comes to mind of me with an abundance of necklaces around my neck for each friend, but I also would know which one would stand for which friend and cherish them like I did when I was 15.

Friends. What does this word mean to us? When it is spoken, it triggers a picture or a thought in our minds. Sometimes we see a spouse or a close friend; other times we may picture a friend from our past. Our thoughts may include a feeling of relief, trust, a big hug. The word friend conjures up mostly good feelings because we have been through a lot with that person. They are super important to our lives as we live in a world of negativity and disappointment here and there.

The word FRIEND means “a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection.” A friend is a person we know, a person with whom we have spent much time, shared many thoughts, and let down our guard showing our true self. We all know who our true self is, and many times a choice few people know that self. A spouse will most likely understand us the most and then family members whether they be a parent or child. A close friend whom we have spent hours with either at work, on the playground, or at church may also see that true self. It really is hard to hide when hours upon hours are shared with others. It is not a bad thing to be ourselves, but some people may think that because feelings get hurt, don’t they? Unfortunately, I tend to be an open book, to the chagrin of those closest to me. I am truly sorry, but thanks for loving me, all!

My sophomore year of college became one of the most important years of my life. I met friends that changed my life and are friends to this day. I can look back on that school year and as it was closing thought how important it would be for me stay in a spiritual place even without chapels, roommates, and classes. In the early spring, I had signed up for a summer at a church camp in Colorado. Being from Wyoming, I was super excited to be close to home, and although I had never been to the camp, was looking forward to spending time there and in that capacity. School ended and I headed home for a few weeks before trekking south for eight weeks of church camp. Growing up as a pastor’s kid, I had been at camp my whole life. Literally! My birthday is in the summer, and many a present and song were passed on to me at camp, even at five, six, seven. My parents brought us along since they were going. Fond memories, but I really enjoyed when it was my time to be a camper in junior high and high school.

God knew I needed to be at church camp for eight weeks that summer. It was a little nerve racking at first because we were assigned roommates for the little rooms we would stay in for the summer. They had two bunks on either side of the room with a bit of space in the middle as wide as the door frame. Close quarters, so we would need to get along somewhat. Unbeknownst to both of us assigned to one room, we would definitely be getting along. We became fast friends; ones who would have bought the necklace. This friend was not only just like me as a ministry kid, but planning to go to the same college in the fall that I was already attending! Uh, God? Yes! She encouraged me, prayed with me, and became what I needed to further my relationship with my True Friend. Any apprehension was all gone about leaving Bible college and what I had experienced that school year, and I spent another two months seeing God work in my life through the preaching and friendships created. My roommate was not the only person that God sent my way that summer. He provided Godly leadership and multiple “best friends;” such close friends, they were all in my wedding six years later.

And now back to cancer. Not only was the first weekend at camp scary, each of us were assigned a host family we would stay with on the weekends, or let us say for 36 hours, so we could do our laundry, sleep, and get a home cooked meal or a much needed out to eat. If I remember right, my first introduction to my host family was at church the day after orientation at the camp. One of the other camp workers and I met with a cute older couple that we would stay with the next weekend. They were so sweet, and we would soon be grateful for their beautiful home and cool basement, couches, and TV where we would spend the majority of our Saturday and Sunday afternoons sawing logs.

The first weekend we arrived, we were shown our room and the basement with laundry facilities. We ended up in the kitchen continuing small talk and getting to know each other. I looked around and low and behold smack dap in the middle of there refrigerator with business cards and calendars was my picture. When I got out of the hospital the first time, we had been told I would most likely lose my hair. My mom took me to a photographer downtown and had my picture done before my hair fell out. She wanted to put together a little prayer card to send to the hundreds of people that visited and sent cards, flowers, and gifts after hearing of my diagnosis. This sweet couple 400 miles from my little town in Wyoming to Denver, Colorado, had received my prayer card through the church and had been praying for me. When they had been told I was coming that summer, they had requested that I stay with them. They wanted to meet the subject of their prayers and get to know me. Uh, God? Yes!

Under no other circumstances can anyone make these things up. There is absolutely no way to even write books that have these kind of twists. Well, I guess there are books like this, but they are mostly fiction. This is real life with a real God. My God said, “Cancer, Rachelle.” I said, “Nope, not me.” But He did not listen, and decided my family and I needed this in our lives. Why do I have this little blog recounting the years of agony and defeat and hair loss and hurt and whys? Because the story is worth sharing for that one person that may be going through the same thing I did. Because the story is worth sharing for that other person that had a why? day. Because of the stories like the one above. Because…

That day in the kitchen of the sweetest couple ever, God showed me my story was not just mine. It was theirs as well. Before them stood an almost 20 year old that they heard about years before, had cancer, then received a prayer card, and prayed for her. She was now in their kitchen, totally healed and a walking miracle to them. Now this was OUR story. God also knew years later, our paths would cross again. One of them has passed on, but the other one is a member of the church I attend in Oklahoma. Friends for a lifetime on this earth.

But our friend for Eternity is Jesus, and there is not enough time to list all the verses that confirm that. John 15:13, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” Romans 5:8, “But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” We can receive that True Friend today and never want for another friend or thing to make us happy. But, I am so grateful God said Cancer, because of the people that He has brought into my life to call my friends and that call me friend. Friends are what make the world go round.

Do You Remember When…?

5/21/19

Fall 1994

What about the time that we …? Do you remember when…? It feels like yesterday that I was riding a bike down our alley to go to the church where my dad was a pastor. We lived a street over, and between the row of houses there was an alley where we would ride to and from the church and our school which was across the street from the church. I remember the house and my room with a large picture window. The house was two bedrooms and two bathrooms with a dining room and eat in kitchen. My parents closed off the door from the kitchen to the dining room, and it became my bedroom. It had large windows on one side where I was certain to keep the bed as far away from them as possible. I loved that room. It was somewhat decorated girly, but most of my time was spent outside with my brother who was a year younger. Our other brother was born around this time.

We had the coolest trees in the front and back yards, and we did our dead level best to conquer them all, and they in return tried to do the same to us. The tree in the front was graciously used for sitting and talking and, one time, swinging with a sheet tied between two branches. It was not too fond of that because the swing lasted a few seconds and sent me crashing to the ground, breaking my collar bone. The five, large pecan trees in the back had an amazing crop of pecans that we turned in for money, which was well worth the time spent picking them up. The trees also had the best branches for climbing extremely high, but once sent my brother to the hospital with two broken arms. Although we had our share of mishaps, we have our share of fond memories that are cherished to this day.

In my cancer journey, a trip down memory lane brings me to the point where I had recently registered for college in Southern California and am fully engulfed in my freshman year. I had a quick turnaround from Ms. Independent to Ms. Homesick. I missed my family greatly, and it was not just the fact that I was not in the same house anymore. My brother was having a medical scare of his own. My parents had taken him to the doctor who had given him the news that he had cancer cells. He had surgery to remove a tumor and cells which were localized and not spread to any other locations. But the biopsy and a return trip showed the cancer could show up anywhere in his body. This sent my parents back into Cancer Parent mode, and they began the cancer journey again for the third time in five years. They chose along with my brother’s consent, who was almost 16 at the time, not to treat with chemotherapy and radiation. Just return trips for scans and monitoring. He never had another reoccurrence!

We were so grateful and took a sigh of relief that he would not have any treatment like I had to go through. I remember being in the dorm at college and asking roommates and housemates to pray for him, his surgery, and the diagnosis. I had so many people informed and praying, and I felt like if God could heal me, He would heal my brother as well. Really never doubted but was anxious all the same. I think my family kept me minimally informed about what he had to go through. Nonetheless, he is another sign of God’s healing hand for our family, because when cancer is diagnosed, the whole family is involved.

This memory of God’s intervention was impactful. I saw God in a whole new light because before, my cancer was my cancer, and He would be giving me my life back. My mom’s diagnosis the same time as mine, was not as impactful maybe because I was a little distracted. When my brother faced the same thing, it changed my perspective of the disease. I saw it as a threat, something that was going to take family from me. I was not ok with that at all. When everything turned out so well, I mean “so well?”, how can cancer have a “so well” result? Anyway, it was a good ending. God became real to me. I learned that freshman year that my daily walk with Him was an essential part of my Christian life. I also learned about making wise decisions when the decision making is in your court for the first time. Boy, I was shown time and again that my decisions were very important to my future and would need to be bathed in prayer. I learned that my study habits from high school were strong which helped me with the intense college grind. College can pound you with the schedule, papers, tests; the work load can at times be relentless. But pushing ahead and working hard will pay off. My freshman year was no exception, and it started off with a cancer diagnosis?!?!

Three people diagnosed with cancer within a few years of each other. How does that happen? Medically, my parents have spoken to specialists. But we understand that God did it this way for a reason. We have individually seen time and again why He brought cancer into our bodies. For me, my brother’s journey really helps solidify God in my life. Stories like this, or memories, are endless for us and would take volumes upon volumes of books to catalogue each instance how God revealed why the diagnosis of cancer was made in our three lives. Our memories are used to make new memories for us and then for someone else who might be experiencing cancer, and the cycle repeats.

Memories of our past can cause pain and can cause happiness. They can cause frustration and can cause joy. A memory may have been a learning experience or a turning point in our lives that made us a better person. Many of us have old memories of a life lived without God and new memories with Him as our Savior. We can rejoice in our salvation when the “old things are passed away” and “all things are become new” II Corinthians 5:17. I am truly thankful for memories, and ask the Lord when the memory is not so pleasant to help me not be bitter or learn from what transpired. It does not always happen that way, but I want to be aware. As I write each article, memories of how the events transpired come back and reveal to me how blessed I am; how amazing God has been to me.

Endings and Beginnings

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Before I begin I want to share a link to our family story that has just come out in book form. My mom has recently published the book on Amazon Kindle and in hard copy. Her many years of labor have come to fruition.

5/8/19

May 1994

Is it a coincidence that this written journey here has taken us to an amazing day in my life when an amazing day in millions of graduating seniors’ lives is happening this month? No, not a coincidence, but pretty cool all the same. Each year in May millions of graduating seniors and their families come together to celebrate many years of schooling and for most, countless days and nights of hard work. It is a pretty special month and worth celebrating with those around us that are having that special day. A chapter in their life is ending and a new one beginning. There are other ends and beginnings. Recently, in our family’s life, we have had neighbors and family members move away, so a chapter in our life has ended and a new one, especially for them, has begun. Makes us sad, but thankful for the memories.

Do you remember your graduation? I do, and to be honest, I miss high school just a bit. Maybe it is because I feel like there were not as many worries or stresses before graduation that a person seems to encounter in adult life. Maybe it is because I would like to go back with what I have learned about people and develop relationships with others that I did not pursue for one reason or another. I had a few close friends and then many others that I had a nice conversation with at my 20th reunion. The reunion made me miss the friendships, teachers, football nights, my first job at Burger King, and my beloved Chrysler. After cancer, I enjoyed being a teenager, which is what I always strived for during cancer.

Graduation was not only the end of 13 years of schooling, but for me it was the end of a few years of rough patches mixed in with plenty of high patches. It was the end of a disease that changed my life from a healthy, sporty junior higher with her future ahead of her to a broken, bedridden junior higher with blurred vision. I approached graduation, back to health, and ecstatic about what was going to play out in the next few months and years, not wanting to turn back for any reason to what I had just experienced.

In March of my senior year, I made the decision to pursue my dream of teaching and go to a Bible college in California where they offered a teaching degree for Christian school teachers. I always knew I wanted to be a teacher. I have vivid memories of sitting in my third and fourth grade classes with one of the most wonderful teachers in the world. His name was Mr. Hendon, and he made the process of learning in a classroom setting the ultimate experience. He brought math facts to life with games. He took us outside during reading group to get fresh air and discuss the characters like they were sitting beside us. He had a smile and encouraging word that made the struggle with history dates and science terms bearable. I was going to be like him. I remember where I was sitting and where he was standing by his desk in this large classroom in an old day care turned Christian school on 14th Street in Abilene, Texas, when I said to myself, “I am going to be just like Mr. Hendon.” That was the beginning of my pursuit of being in a classroom when I grew up. And then, I had so many other wonderful teachers that solidified that decision along the way.

When May and graduation rolled around, I was ready to hit the road. Graduation was the beginning of a new road stretched out before me that was leading to my ultimate dream. The summer months were spending time with friends who would not be going with me, camping in the mountains with the family, and working many hours at the downtown jeweler. I was basically the only employee so I had long days of cleaning shelves, windows, and jewelry cases and putting items out in the morning and in the safes at night. It was a pretty boring job, because how many small mountain town patrons does a jewelry store have in the summer months besides those needing watch batteries? Not many; when the snow melts in April and school gets out in May everyone leaves town. I enjoyed it to an extent, and that extent was that it would be paying for my first semester of school.

A new beginning was a new car my parents bought for me that I would end up driving for the next five years. It was a perfect car for me, two door Ford Festiva with moving seat belts. Boy, did you have to be careful with those. It is not a wonder why cars do not have those anymore because it about took off my head on many an occasion and drove my passengers crazy. I actually saw one the other day and can not believe I carpooled in college with four others in there. How in the world did we fit?! Let me just say Ford was the creator of the first SMART Car, and they did not even know it.

And before I knew it the next chapter in my life began, and I was beginning my college experience. I walked on campus blessed beyond all measure with a new car, a friend of mine as my roommate, and money to put on my school bill. I was going to start on my teaching dream, and I was super excited. Plus, I was going to school in Southern California which has so much to enjoy like Disneyland, shopping, the beach and trips to visit friends’ homes who grew up living there. The weather is great and the thrift stores are amazing, oh, and they have IN-N-OUT burgers! Yep, the freshman 15 was inevitable! Unfortunately, I am pretty sure I pushed my family out the door sooner than they wanted to go, but it did not take long before homesickness crept in, and calling cards and scheduled pay phone calls were a must. (Yes, you are right, no cell phones in the early 90’s for us.) I was having a great time, but I missed my family.

My beginning was shortly set aside for a new beginning that showed up back at the homestead, and it was not because I had left…

Ends and beginnings are healthy cycles in life; an end of something and the start of something else. Can I submit that in life an ending does not necessarily mean completion, but that we have to shift focus. Until we see our Father’s face we might see this happen many times whether it is the end and then a beginning or a shift in focus. Beginnings, exciting? Yes. Endings, exciting? Sure. Sometimes not so much in both scenarios. But I am grateful for one thing; God is there for either one of them, and that is so comforting. He IS the Beginning and the End. Revelation 1:8, “I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty.”

Faith in Things Not Seen

pink

4/18/19

I began this blog after a lunch date with a friend discussing children, school, cancer, and church. It was then and there that the tug for writing my story came to fruition. Her daughter was fighting a three year battle… My heart is heavy beyond description, but my loss has no measure to hers and her family. Her precious girl went home to be with the Lord last weekend. There is no way I can describe their loss. No way on this earth. My prayers and encouragement may be a help, but that is all I can offer.

In the last few months, I have seen families hurt by this disease, and I tried to answer the “why? “. I do not know if I have real answers, and for most people that have seen God work in their lives over and over again, they kind of already know those answers. We read God’s word, hear God’s word preached, and see Him work because of our faith. Faith is the “substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Everyone has faith in something. Having faith in God who takes every aspect of our lives in His hand and gives us hope, direction, and love makes life on earth seem bearable. He gives us evidence through answers to our prayers; whether He answers them how we want or how He wants. We can then have hope that He will do it again. Then the cycle repeats.

What are tough times? They come in all forms like taking away those who are precious to us. Cancer took other things from me: almost half my teenage years, school attendance, a healthy body, a head of hair… Tough times can only be labeled by us. We have to fill in the blanks ourselves, and no “tough time” is less important than someone else’s. They range from a broken body to financial troubles to spiritual downfalls. Whatever it is when we feel downtrodden and lost, then it is our tough time. It comes in all forms, and sometimes we do not see it until it is too late. Our relationship with God can keep our eyes open to what is around us and help us see a tough time. Then our faith is strengthened. The cycle repeats.

Cancer took so much from me, but it gave me a list of amazing things that would fill pages and pages. Which is why I have made note of many of them here. There are so many gifts and blessings that come from tough times, but it is important to grieve when we feel empty. Sometimes we cannot be strong for others anymore and just have to go to God and grieve. The grieving process is how we get back to remembering those blessings. Blessings that give us hope; blessings that increase our faith. Then the cycle repeats.

We have faith in so many things. We trust when we sit down that the chair will hold us. Our vehicle is important to our daily lives. The education we receive is used to improve our future. Each doctor we visit with helps us make decisions about our health. Faith is all around us, and we miss it sometimes. But when the tough times come, we remember what we are supposed to remember about God and His power to get us through. Next, we have to act upon it and have faith that He will. Easy to say, easy to do; because we live in faith in other things every day. I promise, it is easy to do. And then the cycle repeats.

Hebrews 11, the “Faith Chapter,” is all about people in the Bible that did do faith. Some of them in the daily things and some of them in the Godly things. Ordinary and extraordinary. But they all experienced a faith in God that brought them closer to Him. Abel offered up a sacrifice that pleased God; Abraham left his home and followed God’s leading; Sara believed and received a child in her old age; Rahab help God’s people escape. People who trusted in something they could not see but had seen the results of their faith in the past. Their faith put them in the Faith Chapter. It starts like this, “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

Senoritis, Cars, and Five Seconds

4/9/19

Fall 1993

And then there was one! One more year of high school, and I was outta there! My senior year was memorable, exciting, and so much work.

My academic career up to this point had been a boatload of hard work; granted I hit a brick wall in eighth grade that could have sent me in a downward spiral. I had around 3 months of my eighth grade year where I was on chemotherapy, all of ninth grade, and around 2 months of tenth grade. The eighth grade teachers were gracious in my school work load; even though I finished every paper sent home, I missed that instruction time for about a month plus chemo days. There was a plan in ninth and tenth where we would leave school at the very last minute, miss a couple of classes and then the next day. Those afternoon classes suffered quite a bit my freshman year. But still the teachers were helpful and let me come after school for a refresher course if I had any questions.

The one thing that was a life saver for me was the fact I was unable to take the PE classes because of the broviac and the risk of having my chest hit by a ball. I was an aide for the office where I could work on school work after the office duties. Still there was a struggle with the missed instruction time in class. Especially Spanish! Hard work kept me at about a B average, and in 10th and 11th with more class time, more A’s appeared on my report card.

So the beloved senior year came around the corner with a lack of a “sluff off” “senioritis” type of entrance. I had a full load of classes including AP English, AP Calculus (for the second time), Geometry, and Girl’s Jazz Choir. I chose to take Calc again because a repeated class might result in a better grade which was a C my junior year. I was determined to work extra hard this year because there was only one chance to see an improvement in my grades and graduate with the best GPA I had seen on my report card up to this point. I was very much aware of a younger brother who spent substantially less hours working on homework and receiving substantially better grades every single time. What can I say, both our results came naturally, but I was determined to catch up. Last chance!

Along with senior year came my past medical history, so that was never far away from every day life. I walked into school in September with a gorgeous head of hair which was down to my shoulders, a repaired heart, and driver’s license. I was a July baby so I was literally the last person in my junior class to get a license; it was such a bummer. No really, big bummer. But I was now in the driving crowd and had the coolest car in the world, too. Well, since it was free from my parents, it was extremely cool. How many of us remember our first car? Um, most likely the majority of people we ask will remember. This car was a 1979 Chrysler New Yorker, 15 years old, and a classic. It had a leather interior, a trunk the size of a train car, and two full rows of seats. I quickly became the driver for off campus lunch!

A month after school started, I had my two-year follow-up visit in Salt Lake City. These visits were now enjoyable beyond words. I did not dread the road trip anymore. My mom and I went to this appointment and kind of planned to make it a day. Scan days are always a bit anxious, but we had only one scare in the past three and half years, and that was not even from my results, just an overheard conversation. That day, we had a CT scan, blood work, chest X-rays, and a cardiologist appointment. My heart looked really good, and, of course, I had not had any SVT episodes. My oncology results came back normal as well, and the doctor came in to have a discussion.

They were going to give me the “Cure” diagnosis. What does that mean? We had heard the word remission which means that the signs and symptoms of cancer are reduced, but does cure mean really cured? It means that there are no traces of cancer after treatment and that the cancer that type should never come back. Yes, it really means cured. I began with a cancerous tumor throughout my whole abdomen, three months later not a trace of any cancer cells, three and half years later… Mom and I were overjoyed. The doctor explained a few things to us about side effects of chemotherapy in the future. A very obvious side effect is infertility. Of the drugs given in my protocol, two were most likely to cause egg damage, and since a girl has all her eggs at birth, they can be highly effected by chemo. Ok, that was not really what I wanted to hear, but I accepted it, thinking in the back of my mind that I would be invincible from that just like I was when I was going through treatments. At 13, 14, and 15, cancer was just a nuisance, and I did not comprehend that what I had gone through was really life changing for me. Being older and hearing those words, put reality into perspective.

The doctors would like to see me each year as long as I was in the area to keep monitoring me and basically mark it down how I was doing with the side effects. We would continue those visits until we moved my senior year of college.

My mom and I were extremely excited for the diagnosis. Mom decided we would go get my senior pictures done while we were down there to celebrate this amazing news. We had spent so many, many seconds, that added up to minutes and cumulated into day’s worth of agony from hearing bad news. That can really get a person into a bad place emotionally. It can put someone into a thinking process that all hope is lost, that there is nothing worth pushing forward for. “You have cancer,” takes how long to say? Five seconds? And yet those five seconds mean more to some people in a lifetime than any other five seconds they will ever have. Changes our lives forever. So cliché, but it changes our lives forever. Other five seconds have words in them like: there was an accident… I have found someone else… it’s a boy… you may kiss your bride… Not all five seconds have a gut punch, but a rejoicing time, and they can change things for us dramatically.

Take five seconds today to say I love you or thanks for being there for me or have a great day. It may not be that one life changing five seconds that person will encounter in their years here on earth, but it may be added up with other five seconds that help them when they do. When faced with trials, a person needs hope. A God I know gives that hope. I had Him during my trial, and He is still holding me in His hand today. He gave me strength, power, and hope even though He knew about the cancer before I did. I want to live a life that remembers that often; I know I will not remember it every five seconds, but I pray that it will be often.

James 4:14 “Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? it is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.”

MY God healed MY body and gave me MY life back. It is MY duty to live it for Him, because I do not know about tomorrow.

Time To Clean Things Up A Bit

CleaningServices

3/25/19

Summer 1993

On my cancer journey, we had many ups and downs; one being a heart problem I began having when I was small. I remember playing one day when I was super little, and all of a sudden my chest hurt. I went to my mom and told her, and she felt my chest and said my heart was beating really fast. We rushed to the doctor.

I have always been on the lower end of the growth chart, and I was pretty small when I was little. Back in the day when I started walking, my mom bought a baby doll that had hard soled shoes so I would have shoes to wear. When my heart started racing like that, my chest moved with the beats. At three, it was very unnerving, and when we arrived at the doctor’s office, they moved very quickly to get me stabilized.

My rapid heartbeat was called SVT or Supraventricular Tachycardia. In my terminology, the heart would get triggered and beat right around 300 times a minute. The doctors and nurses had me do many different things. We began with coughing, and then pretend like I was having a bowel movement, because the “bearing down” maneuver stops or slows the rapid heartbeat. When that did not work, they had an ice bucket, and they told me to put my face in it because the heart will slow down when someone is submerged in cold water. The last thing, if the previous actions do not slow the heart down, is a fast-acting medication that blocks the electrical impulses causing the heart to race. All of these treatments are done very quickly, because a body cannot sustain a rapid heartbeat for very long before there are major problems, like cardiac arrest. We were told we had a fifteen-minute window to get it under control.

For some reason, I remember having the medicine that first time we went in because the other treatments were not working. My memory may be wrong, because this was the beginning of dozens of episodes that I dealt with in my childhood and teen years. I would say 95% of them were treated by me. The first few we went into the doctor, and then I got to the point where as soon as it occurred I would cough, bare down, jump up and down, and then my personal go-to treatment was a cartwheel. Yep, that is right! All of those actions were done fairly quickly, but if I was playing with my brother, and the SVT set in, I did those actions in that order. I would mention to him that my heart was racing, and then off to the races-cough, bare down a few times, jump up and down, cartwheel. It worked almost every time, and then a few breaths and back to climbing trees.

Almost forty years have passed since my first episode, so these were the only treatments. As we entered the cancer world, I had just turned 13 and was still working through my same SVT treatments, with no new medical treatments out there. I would be hanging out with friends, playing volleyball, or even jumping on a trampoline, and there goes Rachelle doing a cartwheel. Absolutely random! But it had become my life, and that is just what I did. Cancer changed this self-treatment and “turned it upside down on its head.” Once I began chemotherapy, I had absolutely no control over stopping the rapid beats. We rushed to the hospital multiple times to receive the last resort treatment; the medicine that stopped the heart and then the heart would go back to a normal rhythm. The cancer surgery was severe, with an incision all the way down my stomach, and the chemotherapy blocked a healthy healing process. The final treatment for my irregular heartbeat was open heart surgery to repair that defected electric pathway that causes the signal to go in a circle instead of straight. Open heart surgery was absolutely not an option for me on chemotherapy, but it was the only option right then. At one of the heart episodes, my mom had begged the doctors not to do surgery; there was no way I would survive it.

I mentioned in a previous post, that we were at a chemotherapy treatment, when I lost it. I was done with the heart problem, I was done with the chemotherapy, and I was done with all of it. After my blood work that day, the doctors said counts were good, and we were going ahead with the chemo. I said I did not care if I died, tried to leave, and my mom stopped me. After we calmed down, we headed to the cardiologist appointment that was scheduled for that day. He came in, and we talked about the next step. What would we do now? He said there had been new medical treatments for SVT. One was a catheter ablation that goes into the groin and neck and burns the defected electrical pathway. The other treatment was a pill that was proven to lessen the amount of episodes of rapid heartbeats. We were very much ready to try the medicine, and if that did not work, the doctor would do the ablation. The medicine proved to be a life-saver, for real.

The medicine did its job and lasted through chemotherapy treatments and for the next couple of years. I stayed fairly healthy through the summer and 11th grade and kept up with my schoolwork and softball. It was determined at an appointment in my junior year, we would do the catheter ablation to correct the defect. This was in the early 90’s, and when you read about SVT treatments these were the medical advancements in this disease that were being introduced. I just happen to be going through what I was going through at the same time. The ablation was extremely new, so there were no long-term results to go off of, but we had been through so many years of this disease that we felt positive this was the direction to go.

Right after my seventeenth birthday, we went into the hospital again to have the ablation. I would be admitted for a week so they could monitor the heart and its response to the minute change in structure. I was pretty apprehensive because the last time I went into surgery, wow, did I wake up different. This time I actually was not put under but sedated. Now, that was crazy, because they “burned” the irregular pathway, and I remember clearly the sensation; I woke up slightly at that moment. A week later, I was good as new and 25 years later, my heart is still strong. Now, I have a normal heart with a skipped beat now and then, which sometimes makes me anxious because that was usually the same sensation that sent me into SVT.

I am so grateful for the Lord’s timing, direction, and leading my parents to make the decisions they felt were right for me and the problems that came my way. My parents asked for the doctors to wait on the open-heart surgery because there was no real deadly threat, and I would struggle with survival from another surgery. The Lord brought medicines in our world when I was at the bottom. And He gave us a non-invasive ablation that has proven to work for quite a few years now. What an awesome God! At this point in my cancer journey, decisions were still being made to further a healthy life. We were “cleaning up” some of the things that were put on hold for so many years.

God asks us to do the same in our spiritual lives. He directs us and leads us in the paths we should go, but we need to stay close to Him to see those paths. As Christians, each and every day we must confess our sins, the bad things that we do. We are human, we are sinners saved by grace, but our sin keeps us from God’s leading. I John 1:9, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” This is so important, so needed, and so much required to see our path clearly.

Health, Not to be Taken for Granted

3/12/19

Today is the 29th anniversary of when my cancer journey began. I went to the first doctor’s appointment on this day, and that doctor had a small part in saving my life…

“Don’t take that for granted.” Health is a gift we are given each and every morning we wake up, and each and every minute of every day of every week of each year. To take something for granted means to underestimate the value or expect it to always be available. When our health is compromised, boy, it sure makes us look at its value. How often do we think about the chance that it may be our last minute on this earth? I do not mean to live in a place of fear that we may die, but live in a place of realization we have to make each minute count. I think about it often. About once a week, I wake up with the prayer of thanksgiving to God for the breath I have for another day.

Very unplanned, but it just so happens that today I am getting ready to head to a doctor’s appointment for a physical. For the most part since cancer, the effects of chemotherapy have not raised their ugly head. Chemotherapy is very hard on a body; most people understand the physical effects. The long term effects have made their way into my life in recent years, and even hitting the forty year old mark has added to my demise. I have heard people say once they hit forty they had all these new health problems. I say to myself that age was really what I am dealing with, but I have had confirmation from a doctor or two that we are dealing with chemotherapy effects. Well, if I got almost 30 years of a healthy life, I feel pretty good about it. Now along the way to this point, my husband and I dealt with the emotions of infertility, and that is another story I will share.

Skiing down the mountains in Colorado on a green run with my son a few years back, turned into a torn ACL and a silly trip on the medic sled. I had made a hard stop because he had fallen and down I went. Within a few weeks, a trip to the doctor in the nearby town and one at home, a replaced ACL, and crutches for a week because the doctor did not want any weight on it. No weight is not the typical pre-op instruction, but he had some concerns. At my follow-up the doctor explained that once he was in surgery, he had seen what he thought was AVN or a blood loss in certain spots of the bone that he attached the new ACL to, so I would need to be on crutches for eight weeks. Good as gold in the seven years following and a return to the slopes; although my skiing is not as crazy or hard core. Within the last year, I have had pain and the doctor said the AVN is progressing and laid out options. He confirmed AVN would be an effect of chemo.

This is one of a few things that I have dealt with in the last year. Not all have been associated with treatment, but it has become real to me that I may be dealing with a whole new way of looking at health now. I do not want to take for granted what health I have been given as something may be taken from me in the near future. The use of my knee is very much still there, it is just painful to do certain things. In addition, my sight has been compromised, lately, and health became even more important to me than in the past. I am very interested in laying all these things out on the table today at my physical, and hear his thoughts. Once a person has cancer they just need the confirmation each year that they are doing ok. They just cannot go each year without blood work or a physical to let them know everything is good. I moved away from all of my oncologists and the hospital that treated me, so finding someone to take you on is a little uneasy.

You see, about ten years ago I walked into this doctor’s office ready to meet a doctor that could keep track of me. I had told my OB/GYN that I really should find a doctor because of my history, unbeknownst to me she was married to an adult medicine doctor. She told me about him, and my husband and I set up an appointment. The doctor was pretty excited to see me because as he put it, his “group of doctors specialize in adults with childhood cancers.” What a God-send! We have had complete work-ups, and I have come out in really good health. Praise the Lord.

Living life makes it easy to take health for granted because living life involves so much. Home life, family, work, church, sports; all of these things keep us so busy that losing our life the next minute is further from our thoughts. But I think that is ok, because I believe that God put me and each person on this earth for a purpose; to live a life for Him. When we go throughout our day, it should be our thought to give God the glory for each breath, for each healthy part of our body, and for each unhealthy. The use of arms, fingers, knees, backs, are all gifts from God. I really do thank Him for the fingers I have to type this blog article, my sight to see the words on the screen, and my back to be able to sit up. Call me crazy, but I want to encourage us to think about all the little things to be thankful.

I had a journal last year that I started writing a 1000 things to be thankful for. I really must go back to that this year and keep going because I never did finish, even though at one sitting I could write down 50. A couple of the things I wrote I was thankful for were the drips in the faucet which reminded me that we have running water, and the piano practice with the beautiful and not so beautiful notes. The little things add up and remind us how wonderful it is to be alive and have the health we have. Please remember those little things and live a life for God today. It may change tomorrow.

Our God Is An Awesome God…

2/12/19

October 1991

I walked out of my last chemotherapy with a boat load of drugs in my system, nausea setting in, and a spring in my step. I felt like doing a cartwheel all the way to the car, but that would get me puking on the sidewalk and who wants to see that happen. Besides I did not need to start the drive-home-nausea-inducing curves sooner than experiencing it in person. But we were so excited to be at this point in our cancer journey. We had experienced it all: surgery, near death, life, hair loss, hospital stays, life, thought of reoccurrence, life, end of treatment, life… And now I could be a normal teenager, so I thought. Since this was October, we were finishing off the holidays in high spirits. By the time Christmas break rolled around, my hair was just about long enough to feel comfortable going without a wig. That first time I took it off, we had someone cut it and style it for me. It was baby fine hair and extremely soft, just like an infants hair. Well, it was brand new so what did we expect. This was the early 90’s so Aqua Net became my best friend; wait, this was the early 90’s – Aqua Net was everyone’s best friend! I cannot explain how absolutely excited I was to be able to style my own hair again, what little I had.

So Christmas break was the ultimate turning point for me as a teenager in the world of high school. I would be returning to school in January with my new hairdo. Well, I was super nervous, and I had my biggest fears come true. My wig was a long, large curly blob; remember this was the 90’s. It looked like I had a ton of hair, and some people did not know I wore a wig. Those very few people let me know how weird my new hair cut was. It was tough, but I was so very happy, I just did not care as much as I could have at the time. I recall one time at the local Rec Center where we spent a ton of time as teens playing wallyball, volleyball, basketball, and running on the track. I turned in my student ID so I could get a locker. The girl behind the counter handed me a key and was about to turn around but stopped. She grabbed the key and said she made a mistake because she had handed me a guy’s locker room key. Great, I look like a guy when I have short hair! What a blow to the gut. Makes me chuckle today, but that is probably why I have never done a shorter haircut.

Why did I live through this when others do not? Today I ask myself this question because those around me have lost their battle, and their families are left to live their lives without their wonderful loved ones. I do not understand or comprehend the reason God takes a life and let others live, but it happens every day with people losing their lives in other ways besides cancer. God has a purpose for each and every minute of the day and each and every thing we are faced with during those minutes. Because we know life and death happens, we then try to prepare for those times.

A heavy heart can be hard to explain when the events of life appear before us as something other than easy or what we may classify as “day to day life.” But I believe most people have experienced this reaction to hard times. When the term “heavy heart” is used I have a sense of slowed breathing, a pressure in my chest, a punch in the gut, a feeling of sadness that comes over my spirit. Everyone would have a different reaction, but I think we could all conclude we know the feeling of a heavy heart. When I was a teenager, we had a dog that was killed by a car, and I remember so clearly the feeling that I had of death. Yes, I realize we are talking about lives of human beings, but the feelings are the same. There was a void. I recalled that same feeling when I was at my great grandfather’s funeral, but I was so much younger, I did not remember the sense of loss as much as when we lost our dog. In my adult life, three of my grandparents passed away within a few years of each other, and I still get that feeling of emptiness, especially when I think of my precious grandmothers. I feel like something is missing and there is a heaviness. I think this is where we get the above term.

“It’s life,” someone says, “Death is a part of life.” Yes, but there is still a sense of loss that we feel and have to live with until it gets easier. I do not like that phrase either, but it does get easier. How is that possible when we have had a loss? Our God who made us, loves us, and takes care of us shows us every day that He made us, loves us, and will take care of us. We have to embrace that. During those heavy heart moments, He is there. During those hole in the heart, punch in the gut, feelings of void and emptiness, He is still there. A song immediately comes to mind:

“Our God, is an Awesome God, He reigns from Heaven above, With wisdom, power, and love, Our God is an Awesome God.” Written By, Nathan Myrick

As a Christian, we must embrace this truth, and God reminds us of this hundreds of times in His Word. These verses can be just words to those that are hurting, but I want to encourage those that are hurting, do not stop at the words. In time, make the words a type of salve that fills in the void of the loved one we are missing or make it the counterbalance to the heaviness of the heart that will out weigh and lift the weight. Or put all the words together to make a strong surface that blocks the constant punch in the gut. Maybe the words of a song are the uplifting we need to put one foot in front of the other during the few hours after a loss. Whatever our comfort, we should still take the time to grieve; that is important and part of the process of loss.

Psalm 46:1, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.”

Proverbs 8:10, “The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it and is safe.”

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.”

A Day in The Life of a Teenager

selfie 1

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.

The Roller Coaster

ride 2

1/14/19

Summer 1991

How could the adventures within the last few months have been so amazing and actually occurred while I was on treatments for a disease that takes lives every day? It was a pretty wonderful experience. And, yet we had to return to reality that I was on treatments for a… Yes, reality hit me right in the face, right back to Salt Lake City and chemotherapy. It was the summer months again, so we were able to head down early to treatments and enjoy fun times at large area parks, shopping, and there was even a small amusement park in a nearby suburb with roller coasters.

We had to go early in the morning, because there was absolutely no chance we could enjoy anything afterwards. Chemotherapy hit me pretty hard, and if it was the one with a spinal tap, I was in worse shape. Salt Lake was eighty miles away from home, so we would prepare for a rough ride home, because when you leave the city, you climb up through a canyon. It is a major interstate, but it winds back and forth up the mountain and then straightens out after twenty miles or so. There was also another back and forth halfway between there and home. Car sickness is no comparison to chemo, but when you combine the two, not the best situation. Sorry Utah, I really did try to make it without stopping! Even though the trip was hard, we were so grateful to be as close as we were to an amazing hospital.

This was our second summer traveling back and forth for chemo. My prognosis was fantastic, no signs of any cancer since the doctors closed up my stomach, gave me a 30% chance to leave the hospital, and started me on chemotherapy the next day. We had another set of scans right between the two big trips, and they came back clear again. The last treatment would be sometime in October if my blood counts stayed good, and the doctors did not have to bump me back a week. My heart was staying under control with the medicine, and there would be an evaluation after chemo was over on the next step to get me off the medicine. I was healthy, happy, and enjoying my teen life. I just got my permit on my birthday, and school was about to start. I would be going into my third year of school on these treatments: spring of eighth to, Lord willing, fall of tenth grade. The end could not get here fast enough. I wanted to be a normal high school student. One brother was entering high school with me, and the other was going into first grade. Our church was doing really well. My parents had reached out to co-workers who had joined the church body, and the youth group was growing. I had some very special friends during this time at school and church that made my world go round. We had some amazing fun times together!

Yet, I started to struggle with some unusual symptoms that needed immediate attention. We headed down to the hospital to do a series of scans. Concerns about a recurrence were prominent. The scans were a disaster to get completed. I kept throwing up the barium, and they would have to start over. My mom finally told them to shove a tube down my nose and then we could pour straight into the stomach. It worked, and we were able to finish, and head back to the treatment room. For three hours, no one told us anything. It was very unusual to wait and not be given any information. We were certain the cancer was back, and mom and I were physically sick. Mom had made arrangements for being out of the office for an uncertain amount of time and made phone calls to the insurance company. After an excruciating amount of time, the doctor came in to tell us we would need to come back in the morning for more scans. We desperately needed him to tell us what the scans said, and he informed us they were clear, but they needed further tests to figure out why I was sick. The emotional down that we had experienced for the last few hours was almost unbearable. My life was hanging on by a rope, and no one informed us it really was not. Situations like this are a par for the course in the medical world. They did not do anything wrong; they have hundreds of patients and dozens in a given day that need attention, cry for attention, need a hand to get through some of the most difficult times in their lives. Hats off to the medical profession. Emotional roller coasters are in everyone’s handbook. Theirs just has to be under control and then make life changing decisions for other people.

But, boy, do I love the real deal roller coasters. I am on the petite side, and I did not get to enjoy coasters when I was younger until later than most because I could never reach that silly mark on the sign. Pretty sure my brother beat me to it. We were fourteen months apart, and because I was smaller, we were very similar in height. When I was three, the scissors and hair became one, and my mom and I did not. She had to take me to a barber to get it fixed, and I walked out looking like my brother. She had questions about her twin boys for a few months, so she made sure she put me in dresses as often as possible. Anyway, after much begging, pleading, and tiptoeing, I was able to get on that first roller coaster at Six Flags Over Texas. On the way up, I knew this was the wrong idea, and my aunt had to keep me from jumping out. I swore off coasters until I was in junior high and fell in love with them. They do not scare me at all; granted I am nervous on the big ones. Back and neck problems have changed my ability to ride them in this stage of life, but I miss the fun.

Life, emotions, etc… are roller coasters and winding roads through mountains, no doubt. Things are great, things are not so great, things are good, things are horrible, things are fantastic. When asked how things are going, I catch myself saying great.. wonderful… fantastic… no matter what is actually going on most of the time because I have been through some really, really bad times in my life. In comparison, things are really great. There may be times that are crazy, there may be times that are not so wonderful, I wear those on my face and people can tell. That is o.k.; it is life. God’s Word in Ecclesiastes 3:1-2 says it this way: “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted.” Verse 4 says, “A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and time to dance.” Winding through life has its times, and we know that our God will take those times and show us His love and strength and power. Hallelujah for the times we have!

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…

Added Blog Post

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…

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.”

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