Dear Friends,
One year ago today, Matt, my mom, and I sat in the doctor's office and had it confirmed that I had kidney cancer. Two days later, after two nights in the ER, I would be admitted to the hospital. Oh my, what a year it has been since that day. On that day, I don't think I would have thought it possible to say this, but it has been a year for which I now have an abundance of things to give thanks for.
From that day forward, Matt and I had to decide just how much we believed in the God we have always followed and trusted in. Would we love Him and follow Him if things didn't go the way we wanted them to? Could we stand firmly on His Word even when we doubted? Would He be enough to get us through the many unknowns we would have to face? To all, we can unreservedly say YES! He has proven Himself to be truth, to be patient, to be compassionate, to be our comforter, to be our wisdom, to be God. I couldn't have made it this far without Him. I give my eternal thanks to Him.
This year has been full of family and friends...phone calls, caring words, shared Bible verses, cards and emails, meals, invitations to my kids to spend days and nights with friends, people who have cleaned and ironed and cooked and did so many things that I would never have asked for but they were willing to do anyway. I am beyond grateful.
And it's been a year of prayer. Your prayers for me and my husband and kids, for my family, for my doctors, for treatments and side effects, for wisdom in making decisions, for strength in times of weakness and doubt, and for healing. Your prayers have sustained me.
I don't know what the next year holds, I just know that God is continuing to grow me into the woman He wants me to be. It isn't easy, it isn't really something I want to go through, but if it is drawing me closer to Him, molding me to be more like Him, and making me bolder to share Him, then so it will be.
I will continue to give thanks,
Danene
September 23, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
A Short Update
Okay, Friends,
I got the results from the radiologist, and I will tell you what I can, but most of it is in language that I don't totally understand, even with my Medical Terminology for Dummies book at my side. They couldn't use a contrast dye during the scans this time because my creatinine level was on the high side, so the findings weren't as clear as in the past.
On the chest scan, there is an increase in size and number of noncalcified pulmonary (lungs) nodules. In the left lower lobe, the nodule appears to be slightly more nodular and enlarged at 1.4 cm x 2.2 cm. (previously .7 cm x 2.0 cm.) There is also development of pleural effusions, which is the escape of fluid into the pleural cavity, which surrounds the lungs. That is the part that could or could not involve my cough. The doctor just isn't sure. There also is evidence that some of my lymph nodes show progression of the disease.
On the abdomen/pelvic scan, there is a soft tissue mass in the left lower quadrant that has increased in size from 1.5 cm to 2.2 cm. All of this is consistent with metastatic progression.
So, here's the thing. All of that says that the disease is still trying to win, but I'm still in the fight. So join me as I hit my knees, figuratively and literally, and turn it all over to God. I may not understand completely what is happening, but He knows, and I trust Him with my life.
Love you all,
Danene
September 16, 2009
I got the results from the radiologist, and I will tell you what I can, but most of it is in language that I don't totally understand, even with my Medical Terminology for Dummies book at my side. They couldn't use a contrast dye during the scans this time because my creatinine level was on the high side, so the findings weren't as clear as in the past.
On the chest scan, there is an increase in size and number of noncalcified pulmonary (lungs) nodules. In the left lower lobe, the nodule appears to be slightly more nodular and enlarged at 1.4 cm x 2.2 cm. (previously .7 cm x 2.0 cm.) There is also development of pleural effusions, which is the escape of fluid into the pleural cavity, which surrounds the lungs. That is the part that could or could not involve my cough. The doctor just isn't sure. There also is evidence that some of my lymph nodes show progression of the disease.
On the abdomen/pelvic scan, there is a soft tissue mass in the left lower quadrant that has increased in size from 1.5 cm to 2.2 cm. All of this is consistent with metastatic progression.
So, here's the thing. All of that says that the disease is still trying to win, but I'm still in the fight. So join me as I hit my knees, figuratively and literally, and turn it all over to God. I may not understand completely what is happening, but He knows, and I trust Him with my life.
Love you all,
Danene
September 16, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
A Chuckle for the Day
Well, Friends,
I think this time circumstances call for me to begin with a little levity. So here's your chuckle for the day:
Is My Duck Dead?
A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgeon. As she laid her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird's chest. After a moment or two, the vet shook his head sadly and said, "I'm sorry, your duck, Cuddles, has passed away." The distressed woman wailed, "Are you sure?" "Yes, I am sure. The duck is dead." replied the vet. "How can you be so sure?" she protested. "I mean, you haven't done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something." The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room. He returned a few minutes later with a black Labrador Retriever. As the duck's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom. He then looked up at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head. The vet patted the dog on the head and took it out of the room. A few minutes later he returned with a cat. The cat jumped on the table and also delicately sniffed the bird from head to foot. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out of the room. The vet looked at the woman and said, "I'm sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck." The vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he handed to the woman. The duck's owner, still in shock, took the bill. "$150!" she cried, "$150 just to tell me my duck is dead?" The vet shrugged, "I'm sorry. If you had just taken my word for it, the bill would have been $20. But with the Lab report and the Cat scan, it's now $150."
When you're done laughing, I'll fill you in the fact that Matt and I spent the day in San Francisco. I had my CT scans done early this morning at UCSF's China Basin facility, then we had the chance to stroll around near Union Square for awhile, and ate at the most wonderful hole-in-the-wall place called Dottie's. Undeniably one of the best breakfasts I have had in a long while, and a joy to sit at the counter and watch the two cooks at the stove create. By 12:30, we were at Mount Zion meeting with Dr. Ryan.
While we had my blood test results, and the doctor had seen my chest scan, we did not have the rest of the scans nor the radiologist's report yet. So I will have to update you as I receive those results from the doctor in the next few days. My blood test showed that my creatinine level was high (in short, the amount of waste that my kidney allows through), and that my liver functions were high. These are both attributed to the Sutent, and the creatine also to the fact that I only have one kidney. My thyroid's TSH level, if you recall, was extremely low last time, and this time the TSH was almost five times higher than the highest normal level. So I will begin on thyroid replacement to see if it can be helped, and hopefully in the process will gain some energy and have some other things straighten out.
My cough is not better, and the good doctor is not sure exactly what to attribute it to. It could be just seasonal, but it also could be a result of what is going on in my lungs. Again, I don't have all the details yet, so be patient as we continue to receive information and confirm things, but it appears there could be some sort of pneumococcal growth, as well as at least one nodule that has continued to grow. The Sutent is not 'not working', but it is not working to the degree that it needs to be. With many kinds of chemo, when it is not working, it is in the best interests of the patient to take them off of it. That is not the case with this kind of chemo. Sutent is a chemo that creates a kind of wall between the cancer and its ability to receive oxygen and grow. On the other side of the wall, it is possible for the blocked effects to begin to back up and build, so that if you were to abruptly remove the 'wall', it could advance with greater force, causing the cancer to have a big growth spurt of sorts. There are other types of this same chemo I could try, but right now UCSF and a manufacturer are at the end of a phase of a trial that the doctor would like me to look into that might provide a better attack. It would involve taking a different form of this same type of chemo, but simultaneously taking a second form of a different type of chemo that attacks kidney cancer in another way. If the doctor running the trial, and her team, which includes my doctor, feels that I am a good fit for this, it would put me in the second phase of this trial, which is to see how this combination attacks kidney cancer. This second drug is FDA approved, and the patients in the first phase have participated to see what is the highest level of this chemo that can be taken with the other one, with the lowest bad side effects. I have a lot of respect for those patients.
Since there are still some administrative things going on with phase one of the trial, I will go on one more round of Sutent starting Thursday night, then meet with Dr. Ryan in six weeks to make some decisions as to what is next. I will hear from the doctor who heads up the trial in the next few days, to learn more and have many questions answered.
Matt and I have sat in many doctor's offices over the past year, and we have heard many different things that have changed our lives in ways we would have never dreamed of. My attitude has always been that I just need to know what you want me to do and I will do it. I'm ready to fight, and I'm in it for the long haul. But today hurt, and for the first time, I cried on the way home. Then as I listened on my iPod to a Michael W. Smith song, I was struck by these words:
"And even now that I'm inside your hands
Help me not to grow prideful again
Don't let me forsake sacrifice
Jesus, You be lifted high
And if I'm blessed with the riches of kings
How could I ever think that it was me
For You brought me from darkness to light
Jesus, You be lifted high"
For the first time, it was as if I was hearing God tell me to get out of the way and let Him. Whatever happens, whatever the fight, whatever the course of action, do my part, but leave the rest to Him. He will take care of the long haul, whatever it may be, and in the end I just need to fall to my knees so it's Him that you see, not me.
Help me hold true to that, my friends. Continue to pray for my family, and especially my husband. Take the time to ask him how HE is doing, not how I am doing. I would appreciate that. I love you all.
Danene
September 14, 2009
I think this time circumstances call for me to begin with a little levity. So here's your chuckle for the day:
Is My Duck Dead?
A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgeon. As she laid her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird's chest. After a moment or two, the vet shook his head sadly and said, "I'm sorry, your duck, Cuddles, has passed away." The distressed woman wailed, "Are you sure?" "Yes, I am sure. The duck is dead." replied the vet. "How can you be so sure?" she protested. "I mean, you haven't done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something." The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room. He returned a few minutes later with a black Labrador Retriever. As the duck's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom. He then looked up at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head. The vet patted the dog on the head and took it out of the room. A few minutes later he returned with a cat. The cat jumped on the table and also delicately sniffed the bird from head to foot. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out of the room. The vet looked at the woman and said, "I'm sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck." The vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he handed to the woman. The duck's owner, still in shock, took the bill. "$150!" she cried, "$150 just to tell me my duck is dead?" The vet shrugged, "I'm sorry. If you had just taken my word for it, the bill would have been $20. But with the Lab report and the Cat scan, it's now $150."
When you're done laughing, I'll fill you in the fact that Matt and I spent the day in San Francisco. I had my CT scans done early this morning at UCSF's China Basin facility, then we had the chance to stroll around near Union Square for awhile, and ate at the most wonderful hole-in-the-wall place called Dottie's. Undeniably one of the best breakfasts I have had in a long while, and a joy to sit at the counter and watch the two cooks at the stove create. By 12:30, we were at Mount Zion meeting with Dr. Ryan.
While we had my blood test results, and the doctor had seen my chest scan, we did not have the rest of the scans nor the radiologist's report yet. So I will have to update you as I receive those results from the doctor in the next few days. My blood test showed that my creatinine level was high (in short, the amount of waste that my kidney allows through), and that my liver functions were high. These are both attributed to the Sutent, and the creatine also to the fact that I only have one kidney. My thyroid's TSH level, if you recall, was extremely low last time, and this time the TSH was almost five times higher than the highest normal level. So I will begin on thyroid replacement to see if it can be helped, and hopefully in the process will gain some energy and have some other things straighten out.
My cough is not better, and the good doctor is not sure exactly what to attribute it to. It could be just seasonal, but it also could be a result of what is going on in my lungs. Again, I don't have all the details yet, so be patient as we continue to receive information and confirm things, but it appears there could be some sort of pneumococcal growth, as well as at least one nodule that has continued to grow. The Sutent is not 'not working', but it is not working to the degree that it needs to be. With many kinds of chemo, when it is not working, it is in the best interests of the patient to take them off of it. That is not the case with this kind of chemo. Sutent is a chemo that creates a kind of wall between the cancer and its ability to receive oxygen and grow. On the other side of the wall, it is possible for the blocked effects to begin to back up and build, so that if you were to abruptly remove the 'wall', it could advance with greater force, causing the cancer to have a big growth spurt of sorts. There are other types of this same chemo I could try, but right now UCSF and a manufacturer are at the end of a phase of a trial that the doctor would like me to look into that might provide a better attack. It would involve taking a different form of this same type of chemo, but simultaneously taking a second form of a different type of chemo that attacks kidney cancer in another way. If the doctor running the trial, and her team, which includes my doctor, feels that I am a good fit for this, it would put me in the second phase of this trial, which is to see how this combination attacks kidney cancer. This second drug is FDA approved, and the patients in the first phase have participated to see what is the highest level of this chemo that can be taken with the other one, with the lowest bad side effects. I have a lot of respect for those patients.
Since there are still some administrative things going on with phase one of the trial, I will go on one more round of Sutent starting Thursday night, then meet with Dr. Ryan in six weeks to make some decisions as to what is next. I will hear from the doctor who heads up the trial in the next few days, to learn more and have many questions answered.
Matt and I have sat in many doctor's offices over the past year, and we have heard many different things that have changed our lives in ways we would have never dreamed of. My attitude has always been that I just need to know what you want me to do and I will do it. I'm ready to fight, and I'm in it for the long haul. But today hurt, and for the first time, I cried on the way home. Then as I listened on my iPod to a Michael W. Smith song, I was struck by these words:
"And even now that I'm inside your hands
Help me not to grow prideful again
Don't let me forsake sacrifice
Jesus, You be lifted high
And if I'm blessed with the riches of kings
How could I ever think that it was me
For You brought me from darkness to light
Jesus, You be lifted high"
For the first time, it was as if I was hearing God tell me to get out of the way and let Him. Whatever happens, whatever the fight, whatever the course of action, do my part, but leave the rest to Him. He will take care of the long haul, whatever it may be, and in the end I just need to fall to my knees so it's Him that you see, not me.
Help me hold true to that, my friends. Continue to pray for my family, and especially my husband. Take the time to ask him how HE is doing, not how I am doing. I would appreciate that. I love you all.
Danene
September 14, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
I'm Singing
Hi, Friends,
Round Seven is over! It felt good knowing I did not have to take a pill tonight. It's been a tough week. Last Friday I ended up missing school and went to the doctor instead. I had a sinus infection (am taking penicillin but am doing much better), and that dreaded cough from the year before returned, so the doctor changed the type of inhaler I am using to one that is longer lasting and more preventative. It finally feels like it might be working as I am not coughing quite as often, but still deeply. The end of the meds hit hard with tiredness, pretty bad spots on my thumbs and one of my fingers, bruises appearing out of nowhere, and spots of hair thinning and breaking. So I get a two week break to recover, have a blood test, and find out just what good the medicine is doing with another set of scans. It's hard not to get anxious around this time, wondering about the unknown.
Kari Jobe is a favorite singer of mine. She has the most pure and beautiful voice and can make a song touch your soul. She sings a song called 'I'm Singing", about singing to the God who brings redemption to the nations; the One who wrote the book on our salvation; who covers us in grace. I'm singing praise to the One who wrote the lines of my life. I'm singing about things like a husband who has stood by me through more than he ever thought he would have to this past year. I'm sure he would like to not hear anything about cancer for a day or two from me or anyone else. But, nonetheless, he hears about it daily in some form or reminder or so. When I woke him up just 15 minutes before the alarm was to go off this morning, and asked him to pray for the muscles in my abdomen that were spasming from the coughing, he rolled over, put his hands on me, and began praying to the One we know listens to the cries of our hearts. And as he prayed, I began to relax and felt the pain slowly begin to slip from my body. There are many times in our lives that we feel far from being in the singing mood. Perhaps those are the times we most need to find reasons to sing. What are you singing about today? I'm sure there is something that you can find to sing praises about to the One who has done so much for you.
Sing!
Danene
September 3, 2009
Round Seven is over! It felt good knowing I did not have to take a pill tonight. It's been a tough week. Last Friday I ended up missing school and went to the doctor instead. I had a sinus infection (am taking penicillin but am doing much better), and that dreaded cough from the year before returned, so the doctor changed the type of inhaler I am using to one that is longer lasting and more preventative. It finally feels like it might be working as I am not coughing quite as often, but still deeply. The end of the meds hit hard with tiredness, pretty bad spots on my thumbs and one of my fingers, bruises appearing out of nowhere, and spots of hair thinning and breaking. So I get a two week break to recover, have a blood test, and find out just what good the medicine is doing with another set of scans. It's hard not to get anxious around this time, wondering about the unknown.
Kari Jobe is a favorite singer of mine. She has the most pure and beautiful voice and can make a song touch your soul. She sings a song called 'I'm Singing", about singing to the God who brings redemption to the nations; the One who wrote the book on our salvation; who covers us in grace. I'm singing praise to the One who wrote the lines of my life. I'm singing about things like a husband who has stood by me through more than he ever thought he would have to this past year. I'm sure he would like to not hear anything about cancer for a day or two from me or anyone else. But, nonetheless, he hears about it daily in some form or reminder or so. When I woke him up just 15 minutes before the alarm was to go off this morning, and asked him to pray for the muscles in my abdomen that were spasming from the coughing, he rolled over, put his hands on me, and began praying to the One we know listens to the cries of our hearts. And as he prayed, I began to relax and felt the pain slowly begin to slip from my body. There are many times in our lives that we feel far from being in the singing mood. Perhaps those are the times we most need to find reasons to sing. What are you singing about today? I'm sure there is something that you can find to sing praises about to the One who has done so much for you.
Sing!
Danene
September 3, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Hosanna in the Highest
Hi, Friend,
I had the chance to take my son to church camp in the hills of Watsonville for a couple of days last week. My daughter was already there. What a wonderfully peaceful and relaxing time. It was fun to watch my kids and their friends play and work together, and worship God as they learned more about Him and themselves. There was an incredible worship band, too, and they sang this one song with us, called Hosanna. One of the lines talked about worshipping the Lord as we pass from earth into eternity, then moves into a chorus of Hosannas. As we were singing, my husband's aunt, who has fought a battle with cancer for a long time, came to mind. She had just been moved to a Hospice facility, so we knew her time was near the end, and for some reason, I began to picture her as she entered the presence of her Lord, and how she would soon have the chance to worship Him in person. This morning, on her birthday, she lost that battle with cancer. She left behind a body that was full of disease, that couldn't support her, that was full of pain, and entered the presence of the Perfect One, the Healer, the Creator.
I need you to know that that is what keeps me going. It's called hope. I grow weary of the fight, the things that go with it, never giving up, but just weary sometimes. It has become part of my life, and for the most part, something that I don't overly dwell on, but at the same time, it never goes away. However, through it all I stand on the hope that comes only from a relationship with Jesus. I know that in the good and in the bad times, He is with me, He never changes, He is enough to see me through. This is just life on earth, wonderful at times, but nothing compared to what is in store for us in Heaven. I am sad at the loss of our aunt, but so very happy that she is whole and complete and with Jesus.
As an update, I am in the third week of this seventh round of chemo. I started school last week, still job sharing the position but with a new partner, and really like my class of 26 kids. I'm feeling well, overall, with no new side effects but several regular ones that are irritating, and an overlying feeling of being tired all the time. Matt and I will head to UCSF on September 14th, where I will have CT scans in the morning, and see the good doctor that same afternoon to go over the results as well as those of my blood test. I feel your prayers on a daily basis, and am thankful for those of you who have made me a permanent name on your prayer list. I will ask that those of you that know my husband's family will prayer for his mom and her two sisters as they face the loss of their sister, and for the families as well.
Walking in Hope,
Danene
August 25, 2009
I had the chance to take my son to church camp in the hills of Watsonville for a couple of days last week. My daughter was already there. What a wonderfully peaceful and relaxing time. It was fun to watch my kids and their friends play and work together, and worship God as they learned more about Him and themselves. There was an incredible worship band, too, and they sang this one song with us, called Hosanna. One of the lines talked about worshipping the Lord as we pass from earth into eternity, then moves into a chorus of Hosannas. As we were singing, my husband's aunt, who has fought a battle with cancer for a long time, came to mind. She had just been moved to a Hospice facility, so we knew her time was near the end, and for some reason, I began to picture her as she entered the presence of her Lord, and how she would soon have the chance to worship Him in person. This morning, on her birthday, she lost that battle with cancer. She left behind a body that was full of disease, that couldn't support her, that was full of pain, and entered the presence of the Perfect One, the Healer, the Creator.
I need you to know that that is what keeps me going. It's called hope. I grow weary of the fight, the things that go with it, never giving up, but just weary sometimes. It has become part of my life, and for the most part, something that I don't overly dwell on, but at the same time, it never goes away. However, through it all I stand on the hope that comes only from a relationship with Jesus. I know that in the good and in the bad times, He is with me, He never changes, He is enough to see me through. This is just life on earth, wonderful at times, but nothing compared to what is in store for us in Heaven. I am sad at the loss of our aunt, but so very happy that she is whole and complete and with Jesus.
As an update, I am in the third week of this seventh round of chemo. I started school last week, still job sharing the position but with a new partner, and really like my class of 26 kids. I'm feeling well, overall, with no new side effects but several regular ones that are irritating, and an overlying feeling of being tired all the time. Matt and I will head to UCSF on September 14th, where I will have CT scans in the morning, and see the good doctor that same afternoon to go over the results as well as those of my blood test. I feel your prayers on a daily basis, and am thankful for those of you who have made me a permanent name on your prayer list. I will ask that those of you that know my husband's family will prayer for his mom and her two sisters as they face the loss of their sister, and for the families as well.
Walking in Hope,
Danene
August 25, 2009
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
In the Nick of Time
Hi Friends and Family,
My mom and I were at UCSF yesterday to see the good doctor for a check-in appointment. It was her first time to meet him, and he was in a fun mood. We were just consulting on the results of my latest blood test, which had no new surprises. My thryoid TSH level is even lower now (.01, with a normal range being .3-5), so we are pretty much playing a waiting game for it to fail outright. Apparently there is no rush on our part! The extreme of how my thyroid is acting would explain a few of my side effects, though. He took pretty extensive notes (with the help of another 'trainee') on all of the side effects I had this last time, and again they are all expected, just varying from time to time in the degree. I also took the CD of my last scans, which he hadn't seen yet. We looked at them together-very strange as it is like you are looking at yourself through the middle from head to toe lengthwise. It took awhile to get the perspective, but my mom and I finally figured it out, and saw the little specks in my lungs. The doctor was glad to see the scans for himself, as he thinks they don't look as badly as the report led him to believe. In fact, he thinks that the larger 'irregular opacity' might not even be a tumor, but an infection. The next scans in 6 weeks will be very interesting to compare. So...I start my 7th round of chemo (9 full months, now) on Thursday. I was also told, and expected to hear, that the year mark is not a magical number. It's a wait and see time as to what will come after that. God is good, as I was prepared to hear that.
My mom and I went to the Ferry Building after the appointment, as it was gorgeous, walking-around-in-shirtsleeves weather. In San Francisco, I can park free in most places with my handicapped placard, so we found a place on the street, checked that it was okay with the parking gal who rides around in the little cart giving out tickets, and left, not needing to buy a metered tag for the windshield. Well, after we ate and checked out the shops in the Ferry Building, we were strolling back towards the car with our Peet's, and I look ahead and saw that my car and all the others around it were surrounded my tow trucks! Now to get to the car, I had to cross a double-wide street with a train running through the middle of it. I made it to the last part, but the traffic light would not change, and only my car was left for them to tow...and they were loading it up! Finally, the cars passed, and even though the light hadn't changed, I went running. I told the officer in charge what the situation was, and he informed me that the magical hour of 3:00 had passed, and all cars were towed after that time...and that it was posted on the place where you buy your pass, and on street signs. Well, I shared (very respectfully) that I had checked with the meter gal, and that since I hadn't needed to buy one of those passes, I didn't know the magical time, and the sign nearby was hidden in the trees. I really hadn't seen it! He was very firm, but also very gracious. He told me I would get my car, and no ticket, but to be aware the next time. Folks, my car was already hooked to the truck and they were ready to drive away when I ran up. God is so good. Without even knowing, my mom and I were in the right place in the nick of time to avoid who knows what hassles that would have resulted. I have been thanking Him ever since. Isn't this proof that He cares for even the details in our lives?
Humbly,
Danene
August 4, 2009
My mom and I were at UCSF yesterday to see the good doctor for a check-in appointment. It was her first time to meet him, and he was in a fun mood. We were just consulting on the results of my latest blood test, which had no new surprises. My thryoid TSH level is even lower now (.01, with a normal range being .3-5), so we are pretty much playing a waiting game for it to fail outright. Apparently there is no rush on our part! The extreme of how my thyroid is acting would explain a few of my side effects, though. He took pretty extensive notes (with the help of another 'trainee') on all of the side effects I had this last time, and again they are all expected, just varying from time to time in the degree. I also took the CD of my last scans, which he hadn't seen yet. We looked at them together-very strange as it is like you are looking at yourself through the middle from head to toe lengthwise. It took awhile to get the perspective, but my mom and I finally figured it out, and saw the little specks in my lungs. The doctor was glad to see the scans for himself, as he thinks they don't look as badly as the report led him to believe. In fact, he thinks that the larger 'irregular opacity' might not even be a tumor, but an infection. The next scans in 6 weeks will be very interesting to compare. So...I start my 7th round of chemo (9 full months, now) on Thursday. I was also told, and expected to hear, that the year mark is not a magical number. It's a wait and see time as to what will come after that. God is good, as I was prepared to hear that.
My mom and I went to the Ferry Building after the appointment, as it was gorgeous, walking-around-in-shirtsleeves weather. In San Francisco, I can park free in most places with my handicapped placard, so we found a place on the street, checked that it was okay with the parking gal who rides around in the little cart giving out tickets, and left, not needing to buy a metered tag for the windshield. Well, after we ate and checked out the shops in the Ferry Building, we were strolling back towards the car with our Peet's, and I look ahead and saw that my car and all the others around it were surrounded my tow trucks! Now to get to the car, I had to cross a double-wide street with a train running through the middle of it. I made it to the last part, but the traffic light would not change, and only my car was left for them to tow...and they were loading it up! Finally, the cars passed, and even though the light hadn't changed, I went running. I told the officer in charge what the situation was, and he informed me that the magical hour of 3:00 had passed, and all cars were towed after that time...and that it was posted on the place where you buy your pass, and on street signs. Well, I shared (very respectfully) that I had checked with the meter gal, and that since I hadn't needed to buy one of those passes, I didn't know the magical time, and the sign nearby was hidden in the trees. I really hadn't seen it! He was very firm, but also very gracious. He told me I would get my car, and no ticket, but to be aware the next time. Folks, my car was already hooked to the truck and they were ready to drive away when I ran up. God is so good. Without even knowing, my mom and I were in the right place in the nick of time to avoid who knows what hassles that would have resulted. I have been thanking Him ever since. Isn't this proof that He cares for even the details in our lives?
Humbly,
Danene
August 4, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
WALKING Through the Valley
Hi, Friends,
Two more days and this round of chemo is over. Yahoo! It's been a long month. I was doing quite well (just normal, to-be-expected side effects) until last week when our family went camping and fishing at Mosquito Lake. It's such a beautiful setting just past Lake Alpine, at 8050 feet. About the third day into our trip, though, the altitude got to me, and I had a hard time getting enough air, zapping me of any energy as well. Fortunately, Matt's parents were with us and my mother-in-law had her inhaler with her. That helped get me through the next day and a half until we headed home. I have noticed that I am tired A LOT lately. Perhaps the answer is in the additional blood test I had during my last visit at UCSF. It showed that two additional markers of my thyroid came back within normal range, but that my thyroid stimulating hormone is still abnormally low, which suggests that my thyroid is failing, but my body is trying its hardest to compensate for that. This can continue for awhile, but eventually I will probably need to go on thyroid replacement therapy. I've been assured by family members who are on replacement therapy already, and by the doctors, that this is nothing to worry about. However, it will be just one more pill to add to my already almost-bursting pink pill case!
Not long ago I read a fun book called Sisterchicks in Wooden Shoes. In it, a gal gets a call from her doctor that she has had an abnormal mammogram and needs a biopsy. Before she does anything, she gets on a plane to go visit her penpal of 40 years, in Holland. While she is there, many hilarious things happen, but she also has some profound moments as she deals with what may come in her life. One of these moments she finds in the 23rd Psalm. As she is reading it, her friend notices that it says "Even though I WALK through the valley of the shadow of death." That's different from stopping in the valley or sitting down under the shadow of death and just giving up. We don't stop and get stuck in the dark places.
I took the first step into that valley when the doctor called and told me I had cancer. While I do have moments I fear evil, I know that God is with me. His rod and staff are there to comfort me. The shepherd's rod was used for discipline and the staff for rescue. So what represents His rod and staff in my life? Well, many of you are the tools of the Great Shepherd in my life, keeping me close to Him, and encouraging and admonishing me with verses and words of wisdom. Oh, there are so many times I feel so helpless as I go on this journey, but God is taking care of me so wonderfully in this valley. I wonder why that is such an unexpected discovery...
Thank you all, my rods and staffs, for your prayers, and being tools for the Father in my life.
Danene
July 21, 2009
Two more days and this round of chemo is over. Yahoo! It's been a long month. I was doing quite well (just normal, to-be-expected side effects) until last week when our family went camping and fishing at Mosquito Lake. It's such a beautiful setting just past Lake Alpine, at 8050 feet. About the third day into our trip, though, the altitude got to me, and I had a hard time getting enough air, zapping me of any energy as well. Fortunately, Matt's parents were with us and my mother-in-law had her inhaler with her. That helped get me through the next day and a half until we headed home. I have noticed that I am tired A LOT lately. Perhaps the answer is in the additional blood test I had during my last visit at UCSF. It showed that two additional markers of my thyroid came back within normal range, but that my thyroid stimulating hormone is still abnormally low, which suggests that my thyroid is failing, but my body is trying its hardest to compensate for that. This can continue for awhile, but eventually I will probably need to go on thyroid replacement therapy. I've been assured by family members who are on replacement therapy already, and by the doctors, that this is nothing to worry about. However, it will be just one more pill to add to my already almost-bursting pink pill case!
Not long ago I read a fun book called Sisterchicks in Wooden Shoes. In it, a gal gets a call from her doctor that she has had an abnormal mammogram and needs a biopsy. Before she does anything, she gets on a plane to go visit her penpal of 40 years, in Holland. While she is there, many hilarious things happen, but she also has some profound moments as she deals with what may come in her life. One of these moments she finds in the 23rd Psalm. As she is reading it, her friend notices that it says "Even though I WALK through the valley of the shadow of death." That's different from stopping in the valley or sitting down under the shadow of death and just giving up. We don't stop and get stuck in the dark places.
I took the first step into that valley when the doctor called and told me I had cancer. While I do have moments I fear evil, I know that God is with me. His rod and staff are there to comfort me. The shepherd's rod was used for discipline and the staff for rescue. So what represents His rod and staff in my life? Well, many of you are the tools of the Great Shepherd in my life, keeping me close to Him, and encouraging and admonishing me with verses and words of wisdom. Oh, there are so many times I feel so helpless as I go on this journey, but God is taking care of me so wonderfully in this valley. I wonder why that is such an unexpected discovery...
Thank you all, my rods and staffs, for your prayers, and being tools for the Father in my life.
Danene
July 21, 2009
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