Wednesday, November 30, 2011


I'm baaaaaaaack!!!!!!

Literally and figuratively. I was in a huge funk for the past few days. I became really negative about Mayo, and about the potential results of the brain MRI I had yesterday. It seemed like there was no chance we'd hear any good news, and I just could not take any more bad stuff. I remembered that the Lord is my strength (Ps 28:7, etc.), but it seemed like the part of me that it takes to move one foot in front of the other wasn't strong enough to even lean on His arms.

So we got to St. Augustine late last night and stayed with our friends Andrea and Neenad. Neenad is the one I've mentioned does all my cancer-thinking for me and directs my path. He found all my beloved doctors for me and got me into Mayo in the first place. But he can't erase the cancer on my PET scan or remove it with the wave of his hand. God can, of course, but sometimes it's hard to really feel that when you're down.

The kids cried through the drive then Naomi was up all night, yada yada. Then we show up at our appointment and there's a woman my age standing next to me with a mask on her face. Her mom has to check her in because she can't speak. She needs a pail to throw up in because she's had two strokes and can't hold her own puke bag. "No! A bag will not do! I must have a large pail for my daughter's vomit." I prayed and tried to praise God that I can still hold a flimsy puke bag. The prayer fell flat.

Anyway, I immediately despised the first doctor we met, but she did grow on me. Then she insisted that I meet with a geneticist to see if I got this cancer from a mutant gene. I knew this was an issue, and because it pertains to my children (if I have it they likely will), it is extremely touchy. The other doctors had told me it was an issue to be addressed later, so I was entirely unprepared to face it today. We'll get the results in a week, and the positive part about it is that if I do have it, my brother will know what to get extra screening for, and in 18 years Abigail can begin early screening to catch the stuff before it's too late. Plus, in 18 years the treatments will be much better.

Overall, the genetic stuff and very real cancer patients at the hospital devastated me and I had an awful day. Yaacov tried to get me to focus back on God but I didn't put my heart into it. By the time I met with the oncologist I was sprawled out on his waiting room couch crying and had decided my hope was gone. Sort of bipolar considering how I felt just days before. I kept thinking I needed to focus on something positive but instead embraced the sadness without even trying to go the right way.

The oncologist walks in and doesn't have any new findings, isn't lovey-dovey the way I wanted, and didn't seem to really care about me. But, God was there. And God still answers prayers, even when I fall short and lose sight of what's really important. This guy walks in and says word for word what Yaacov and I said to each other and God the  other day. He said, "We're just going to treat this cancer like it hasn't spread. Like it's Stage 3." No one else had suggested this, online or in person. But Yaacov and I talked about it and I think we discussed it with my family when they were in town. The words were so beautiful. I know cognitively that pretending it's Stage 3 is not the same as it actually being Stage 3, but the difference to me is huge. It's the difference in being treated like you're living instead of dying. And guess what? I'm ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm so grateful to be alive at all, and that God set it up with those words, just to comfort and remind me that He's listening. Plus the last few days I had fleeting thoughts telling me to stop thinking like I'm dying and remember that I'm living. But I've mostly ignored those.

Not anymore! I'm alive in and through Christ, "But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions--it is by grace you have been saved And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus... (Ephesians 2:4)."

I'm also just alive in general. None of us know when our last day on earth will be. I always thought I'd sort of know when things were happening, but I was wrong. I had no inkling about this cancer thing. So I probably won't have an inkling about the day He heals me either. It's so that no man can boast. 

Thanks to all who read and comment on this. I'm trying to get back to as many people as I can, but it's a slow process. Please know I love you all and you have no idea how grateful I am for your prayers and support.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

A New Day

God is still good. Last night I felt sick and started panicking that I wouldn't be able to start chemo on time because of it. I went to bed at 7:30 and feel fine now. I'm so grateful for the healing and for the lifestyle that I can do that and it's not even a blip on the radar. The kids were in bed, Yaacov was home with video games to entertain him, etc. I can't imagine going through this with a job outside the house or as a single mom.

One reason I went "public" on Facebook yesterday was because I was already sort of depressed and wanted to get it out of the way. I was skeptical that those who aren't close enough to me to know already would really care. But the outpouring of love and messages from old friends and even strangers has been really encouraging.

I had a sort of daydream (I can't say it was a vision from God, but it was definitely filled with love that only He is responsible for). I was in the front yard with Abigail, having a "dance party". We have them all the time where we blast the music and mostly spin around and laugh. Anyway, it was the two of us holding hands and spinning, the wind was in our hair and she was smiling with those huge cheeks. Then suddenly I looked over, and the whole yard was filled with people who love us. We were all dancing together with joy because of God's great love. We're going to have that dance party when He heals me.

Abi just caught me crying as I finished up this post. She said, "Why are you crying?" I told her it's because God is so good. She wisely responded, "Well, whenever you want to cry about something you should just sing, 'God is so good' instead". I think I'll try that today.

Monday, November 28, 2011

Pics from the other day

Posted by PicasaThis is Yaacov and me from the pics we took the other day.

Just Abigail, almost 4 years old, in her homemade glasses.

Precious Naomi and me, almost 8 months old.

This is Yaacov and me with the girls, my mom, and my brother Ben.

Thanks to all who are reading this story and praying for us. I pray for you all as well, and hope God blesses you abundantly for your dedication.

Day 11

I lost some of my happy, positive energy today. I still have so much to be thankful for though. Maybe even more than usual. The girls have been completely precious and so many people have reached out in extraordinary ways. I can't write about them just yet. I guess it's just becoming more real now. I still know God can heal me, but I was hoping it would be yesterday or at lunchtime today. Now it seems I'm going to have to face at least some of it. But God said, "when you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned, the flames will not set you ablaze." Isaiah 43:2.

Sunday, November 27, 2011


One more thing. I had Susan send out an email on my behalf and that included a request to not call us because we were getting overwhelmed. But as I was writing the last page I started thinking there might be a person or people who read this sooner or later who need support too. It would be an amazing opportunity to be able to help someone like that, whether they're going through something like this or even bent out of shape about this challenge. So if anyone reads this and needs anything, please contact me. Put a note in the comments or send a note to our new email,, and we'll set up a time to talk. I'm really sorry if I hurt anyone's feelings by not wanting to hear from people.

So many awesome things!

Psalm 89:1-2 "I will always sing about the Lord's love; I will tell of His loyalty from now on. i will say, 'your love continues forever, your loyalty goes on and on like the sky'."

Every second of this day is getting better, I can't even handle it! God is so good to me. Who am I that He would comfort me and give me hope? That He would hear my cries and wipe the tears before I have a chance to ask? The answer is no one. I've never led anyone to Him. I've never sacrificed anything that mattered. But He loves me anyway. In fact, the word says He has no favorites. Meaning that He loves me as much as someone who's spent her life dedicated to serving Him. As much as King David, Paul, or Mother Theresa. He certainly loves me as much as Hezekiah, who He granted 15 extra years of life just because he asked. And He loves my children enough that He will have mercy on them for my sake. Glory be to God, the author of this and every story!

Anyway, church was good, but I was distracted for most of the day because I can feel my milk is drying up. As much as I try to be positive, it is a very real and painful experience. I know I will never nurse a child again. Most importantly, I will never nurse Naomi again. I wanted to cry. Really to sob and writhe around on the floor in self-pity, screaming to this invisible God who would be so heartless as to require this sacrifice. It made me feel unneeded too, which is hard to face because the basis of my desire to be healed is to raise the children I claim need me so much. It was a struggle to snap out of the funk, and to (attempt to) focus on God and the fact that He weaned her for a reason. Just days ago I felt weaning her was a blessing, and I was viewing it differently suddenly. Then--get this--He blessed me again! Instead of making me feel like a piece of junk for having the selfish thoughts in the first place, He comforted and answered me like only He can. When I got home from fellowship group she woke up and started crying. She would not go back to sleep until I held her. She was quiet the instant I grabbed her, and when I tried to put her down prematurely she cried again. So I walked her and rocked her (okay, and smelled her sweet little head), while she held onto me with those fat baby arms. As she fell asleep on my chest she made the happy baby sounds that confirmed little Naomi loves and needs me.

In Genesis 18, Abraham pleaded with God to save the evil city of Sodom for the sake of as few as 10 righteous men He would find there. God promised to save the city for the sake of those, it just happened that there weren't 10 righteous people there so Sodom had to go. But I see the story with a parallel to us. If I'm the evil (or at least unrighteous) city we will beg that God will spare me for the sake of the righteous (my children). And I do. Beg. Please, Lord. Have mercy on me for the sake of those innocent babies.

That isn't all with the good news. Yaacov has a work connection who is related to someone who created an algorithm to determine the best treatment for breast cancer patients based on their symptoms/characteristics. She's looking into where we could go in the vicinity to get it done. If not, we also figured out that Texas has the #1 ranked cancer center (although this is general, not specifically for breast metastatic), and somewhere in Texas is the algorithm guy, so maybe we can work that all out together. The best part of this is that we weren't looking for info like that, but it all fell together. It's so clear that every move I've ever made is to set me up for this experience. For those who don't know, I was a researcher in my career, and have that personality now. I have extremely high standards for such matters, and won't just accept some schmo's advice to stand on my head while eating carrots because they talked to someone whose brother was cured by it. So a guy who invented a testable (hopefully tested of course), science-based algorithm that would direct my treatment and leave the guesswork out of if is another miracle to me.

I have more to say but don't want to spend too long each night on the computer. I am so grateful that tomorrow will be a day of relaxation. I'll spend it enjoying my girls and the world God created. It will be the first day spent without the company of adults since the diagnosis. I don't think I was ready for that then. Hopefully I am now. But if not, I will actually reach out and find some company. We had fellowship group with just the women today, and it was so nice to sit back and chat, laugh, and breathe a little. They are amazing ladies and I pray that one day I can bless them the way they've blessed me.

Saturday, November 26, 2011


I'm learning so much about what to do if someone else I know ever goes through something like this. The biggest is that no matter how close I am or am not to the person, it's nice to reach out in some way. I'm trying so hard to stay positive, but am really bothered that I'm positive some old friends & acquaintances know what's up and don't care enough to even drop a line. It's not like those people are important to me now, but it's painful to know that they'd hear someone is dying and not care at all.
Same goes for the people pushing their ideas/beliefs on me. I get that they believe I should do what they would do. That doesn't make it right for me though. And maybe I'm being sensitive, but right now it seems that if I don't do it they'll judge me, and if I die they'll think it's because I didn't follow their advice. I'm praying about everything now and following God's advice, not man's. But I sure wish I didn't have to juggle other people's judgments and beliefs along with it.
Anyway, none of this matters. I need to focus on what's important. Worshiping God and spending time with my loved ones. Getting the house cleaned is up there too. But regardless, Paul said in Galatians that he's not trying to win the approval of men. One of my favorite verses has always been that, "if I were still trying to please men I would not be a servant of Christ" (Gal 1:10). I will remember that the next time I lose focus and think this junk is important.
Now, I have found no verses about the filthy kitchen so better attend to that.

Good Things

I might be repeating a few good things I posted on other days, but I've been talking, texting, and thinking so much about everything that I can't remember where I've put it. This seems like a good morning to start off  focusing on all the positive things going on.

One really cool thing from Thanksgiving was that I had recently decided to make a list of 1000 things I was thankful for. Then I upped it to 1 million, because God provides that many blessings. Anyway, there was this book in my car from my friend Shannon that I realized I'd never have time to read. So I returned it when I saw her and she said the gist of it is that you should write down 1000 things you're grateful for!!!!! How cool is that? I swear I hadn't read the back or even looked at the book, so it wasn't some sort of delayed reaction. It was God being awesome. I started the list yesterday.

That night Naomi also started taking a bottle. Doesn't sound huge but she'd barely eaten in days because she was confused about the weaning I'm forced to do, and she just would not take a bottle or sippy cup for more than a sip. Suddenly that night she took it like she loved bottles. Hasn't stopped since. She's so much happier now, I'm so very grateful.

I'm also glad for other things. I have so much peace and even some joy right now. God is going to be glorified through this, and it's an honor to be a part of it. He is answering my prayers from long ago about doing something big for Him. And we have the chance to go to Mayo this week, and maybe something awesome will happen there. Naomi's also been eating more table food, which is good, and Abigail is chipper and happy with all the people who keep showing up here. My mom and brother Ben arrived yesterday and we had some nice family time. Now we're about to take family pictures, and everyone would normally groan about it. But I get to pull the cancer card and no one will dare complain about striking a pose. God is good.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Day 7

Yesterday was difficult. Met with local oncologist who we really liked. Unfortunately, he didn't say anything contrary to the bad news we were aware of. I think it was extra hard for Yaacov because I hadn't told him about the incurable part so he didn't find out until Dr. Rassam told him. Then we went home and Yaacov told my dad, who also hadn't known. Rough day all around. I'm praying that it's the worst day of our lives.

The plan is to get a brain MRI Monday to see if it's spread there. Wednesday is Mayo. We're going to ask them and Neenad for advice on the best place in the country for treating stage 4 BC. Particularly because everyone is noting how unique my case is. In addition to being only 32 with advanced BC, the characteristics are unique to the few people who do get it at this age. I'm hoping that the uniqueness makes me a pet project to a genius oncologist who treats me exactly the way God wants, and I have a full recovery. I can't wait for that day.

Anyway, Rassam said to call as soon as we leave Mayo, he'll order the drugs they recommend, and we'll be able to start 2 days after that. That's next Friday or the following Monday. I never thought I'd be so excited to lose all my hair. Apparently with Stage 4, the goal is to prolong life rather than cure it, which somehow makes the surgery less important. In fact, the only reason to have it is so the cancer doesn't grow outward and burst through my body. Are you kidding me? Are you kidding me?

Weaning Naomi has been incredibly difficult. It's so unfair to her, and she's so confused and heartbroken. However, we recognize God's hand in it all, and when we really stop and pray (not just the quick kind you do in the middle of washing dishes), it improves. She took an ounce or so from a bottle before nap and has now slept for a few hours. She should be less distraught for Thanksgiving dinner.

We were still going to cook everything today, but at the last minute last night ran to Publix and got a bunch of premade sidedishes. The house is a mess too. But it has been so much more peaceful today. And I have never appreciated the meaning of "Thanksgiving" as much as I do today. My dad and father in law are here now, the Kent family is coming with their amazing kids, and Sarah and Abe from Yaacov's work will be here too. So everyone has someone to support them. Mom and Ben are on their way but won't be here for the meal. I am so grateful for the support and love from all these people. Last year when my book came out, a lot of people who I thought cared about me didn't read or buy it. It wasn't about the money, but the gesture. I felt like it really showed who my real friends were. But the truth is that sort of crap doesn't matter. What matters is that people rally around you and your family for the important stuff.

This is the most encouraging verse I have found. And when I say, "found" I mean it--over the past few months I've been making notecards of verses I thought were important, and leaving them wherever I shove them while cleaning. Last night was the hardest of all, and Yaacov's dad was talking my ear off about nonsense while I was just trying to figure out how to breathe. I said a little prayer for God's help and went to look for something. Suddenly one of my notecards was sitting right there, with the best thing I could have heard or read right then. I don't actually remember making it, or why I would have thought it applied to anything BC (before cancer). But it and the others I keep finding are directly applicable now. Glory be to God for this outpouring of love, peace and assurance!!!!

The verse is 2 Corinthians 4:8-9, "We have troubles all around us, but we are NOT defeated. We do not know what to do, but we do NOT give up the hope of the living. We are persecuted, but god does not leave us. We are hurt sometimes but we are NOT destroyed.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Day 5

Worst day yet. Got word it spread to lungs and 2 spots on my spine. This makes it Stage 4, which is considered incurable. Typically I would have 1-3 years, although being so young might help. I didn't expect the spine part, so I'm sort of blown away. And honestly, I didn't realize that it's not curable. I thought there was a cure, it just didn't necessarily work for everyone.

I didn't think it could get worse than Friday's call about having cancer in the first place. But this is a lot worse than I imagined. I guess I thought everything was curable until you get treated and it doesn't work. So I didn't think I'd get this info so soon. Blown away.

Psalm 147

 1 Praise the LORD.[a]    How good it is to sing praises to our God,
   how pleasant and fitting to praise him!
 2 The LORD builds up Jerusalem;
   he gathers the exiles of Israel.
3 He heals the brokenhearted
   and binds up their wounds.
4 He determines the number of the stars
   and calls them each by name.
5 Great is our Lord and mighty in power;
   his understanding has no limit.
6 The LORD sustains the humble
   but casts the wicked to the ground.
 7 Sing to the LORD with grateful praise;
   make music to our God on the harp.
 8 He covers the sky with clouds;
   he supplies the earth with rain
   and makes grass grow on the hills.
9 He provides food for the cattle
   and for the young ravens when they call.
 10 His pleasure is not in the strength of the horse,
   nor his delight in the legs of the warrior;
11 the LORD delights in those who fear him,
   who put their hope in his unfailing love.
 12 Extol the LORD, Jerusalem;
   praise your God, Zion.
 13 He strengthens the bars of your gates
   and blesses your people within you.
14 He grants peace to your borders
   and satisfies you with the finest of wheat.
 15 He sends his command to the earth;
   his word runs swiftly.
16 He spreads the snow like wool
   and scatters the frost like ashes.
17 He hurls down his hail like pebbles.
   Who can withstand his icy blast?
18 He sends his word and melts them;
   he stirs up his breezes, and the waters flow.
 19 He has revealed his word to Jacob,
   his laws and decrees to Israel.
20 He has done this for no other nation;
   they do not know his laws.[b]
   Praise the LORD.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Day 4: Silver Lining!!!!

What an amazing day! It started off horribly and I had a really bad attitude. Naomi was up all night and I felt sick from the stupid fasting part of the PET Scan. I read online that I'd have to wait 30-60 minutes to let this radioactive sugar get absorbed. So I brought a list of phone calls I had to make. Sidenote: if you're ever diagnosed with cancer make sure to get unlimited minutes. I've never been on the phone so much in my life. Anyway, he tells me I can text but not speak. Then he mentions that besides not nursing Naomi for 24 hours (no, she still has never taken a bottle), I can't TOUCH or hold my children for more than 30 second increments. For 4-5 hours. By the way, is it 4 or 5? I went with 4.5 hours. Of torture.

Naomi was hysterical when I got home and all I could do was look at her. She normally has 2 naps by then but had only slept for 30 minutes. Hadn't eaten a thing. I couldn't find the best sippy cup we have and searched everywhere. Finally, I prayed for 10 seconds, then walked back to where they were. She stopped crying. I looked over, and there was the sippy cup (in one of Abi's toy bins). Then she took the sippy cup with milk for longer than ever from my dad. My baby girl passed out for 3.5 hours after this.

I expect the night to be the worst part, because she nurses so much. But at dinner she miraculously took a bunch of milk from a tablespoon, and after a stroller ride she fell asleep without nursing. Very little crying. This early and sudden weaning was one of my biggest concerns of the entire cancer deal. Praise God from whom all blessings flow! He is still around and still faithful.

Not only is this verse a reminder of that, but it opened my eyes to the most important part--He keeps this covenant of love to 1000 generations. The whole time the big issue is how He could care so little about my children to potentially rip them away from their mommy. But I believe every word of the Bible, and I believe He loves my children because we love Him and keep His commands. Awesome. i will admit that doesn't mean He'll love them enough to keep their mom around, but it does mean He'll keep loving and taking care of them the way that is Right (He's smarter than me and defines it His way. But I trust Him!) I'm so happy right now! I will admit
Deuteronomy 7:9 Know therefore that the LORD your God is God; he is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commands.

Sunday, November 20, 2011


Had a great time at fellowship group today. They prayed for us and I felt like everyone truly understood what was going on. I mean, in the sense that they can empathize. I also learned there is a man there who was told for 2.5 years that he was going to die (didn't ask of what, I assume cancer). He couldn't find a doctor who would tell him he'd live. And what do you know, years later he's alive. He said he totally relates to everything I told the group tonight.

I'm a little worn out by everything, and in particular by a few people who are trying too hard to be helpful. I got home from a nice time with the group and had these messages that stressed me out. I really appreciate the effort, but sometimes it seems like people want to help in the way they'd want to be helped, instead of in the way I'd want to be helped. And it's hard to say no to these people. I guess everyone copes in different ways, and most of us really want to feel helpful. But part of me feels like it's a little selfish of them to be so pushy.

Why should I have to do things to appease them when I disagree with what they're saying and I'm the one with cancer? But then I release the though and the Holy Spirit fills me with love for them. Even though I'm the one with the diagnosis, all these people are still affected by it. So they're doing what they can think of to help, and I'm complaining about it. In a few months when the newness has worn off I'll be sitting here alone and wishing I had people who cared enough to push things on me. Plus, God says to love one another because God loves us, not because they automatically know how to cope when their loved one is diagnosed with cancer.

1 John 4:7  Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God.

Day 3

It's a new day! I woke up feeling much more peaceful about my prospects. It's Sunday so we went to church and everyone knew. I'm glad for the support but it's still awkward for Yaacov and me. It felt like a funeral where I'd lost a loved one. But then I realized it was me we were all mourning. Ouch.

I'm encouraged that I read it's pretty unlikely for the cancer to have spread already. That usually happens on the recurrence of breast cancer. We won't know until after the PET scan though. Plus, I've been on the losing side of every other battle with this thing so far.

I have to remember that although everything changed, nothing really changed. I still love and trust God. He is still my Lord and Savior, and He is mightier than cancer. If He wants to, He will heal me. If He chooses not to, He has a reason and the wisdom behind it is beyond my comprehension. But it's still a reason. The right reason, because God doesn't make mistakes. "But as for me and my house, we will worship the Lord", Joshua 24:15

1 Thess 5: 17-18 Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Day 2...Living with Cancer...?

Tired. Is it the cancer or the stress? Had a nice day with the family today. I like the distraction. Now the girls are in bed and Yaacov is playing video games. I spent half an hour looking for matching Christmas pajamas for the family, and just looked up and saw the time. Then I realized: I'm DYING. Right now. Who knows how much longer I have to live, and I just spent thirty minutes of it messing around on the internet. I'm such a loser.

My dad showed up today. That was a huge surprise. We were at Costco and he called but I didn't answer because I was driving. When we got home I saw flowers at the door with his business card. He was going to come from West Palm on Wednesday anyway, so he came up early and is staying the week. It'll be good because he can watch Naomi while I'm having the PET scan Monday. But I'm still in shock. I don't deal well with unplanned things. You know, like schedule changes. Or getting diagnosed with advanced, invasive breast cancer.

Cancer. Is this for real? Not just any cancer, but apparently stage 3 or 4. What was that shooting pain in my leg? Ow. Am I being paranoid or is my cough bad? It is only manageable when I'm on antibiotics then returns when I finish the pills. Lungs are one of the first places the idiot cancer cells move after breasts. Please, Lord, don't let the cancer have spread. On a happier note, perhaps we'll see that the lymph nodes don't light up in the PET scan, which would be awesome. Imagine that, good news!

Before the diagnosis I determined this would be my life verse, so I guess that shouldn't change now: Philippians 4:4-7, "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. the Lord is near. do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and  your minds in Christ Jesus."

The Diagnosis

Got the call yesterday. I have cancer. It took 4 weeks of doctors going back and forth, including one biopsy and one ultrasound with promising outcomes. This time there's no confusion though. Final answer: It's cancer. Always has been.

My mind is reeling. It feels surreal. I thought it was cancer the whole time. The day the idiot radiologist told me it was just a cyst and canceled my mammogram, it felt wrong. Not enough for me to argue, of course. Thank the Lord my GP still insisted on a biopsy. When the biopsy from that one came back abnormal I wasn't surprised, just worried. Then we waited to see Dr. Crooms, the amazing surgeon. I love him and everyone in his office. He insisted on another biopsy which he did right away. A frozen section from that came back negative for cancer. Online it says only 3-5% of frozen section biopsies result in false negatives. Unfortunately, I am in that group.

We had a few hours to digest the news, during which time we went to Abigail's preschool Thanksgiving presentation. She proudly recited Ephesians 6:1-4, then did a vaguely offensive Native American dance and we ate Chik Fil A. It was perfect. I hope to have many more Thanksgiving feasts with both my baby girls.

Dr. Crooms asked us to come in and talk about the cancer. Our friend Shannon watched the kids (again), so we could concentrate on the findings. Too bad my mind is shot so I can't concentrate on anything. Thankfully, Neenad Shah is helping and said he'll do the thinking for me. He got me in with a local oncologist for Wednesday and is working on getting me into the Mayo clinic too. Neenad might not be a Christian, but he and Andrea are DEFINITELY gifts from God. I would be so completely lost and confused if I didn't have them.

Anyway, Dr. Crooms confirmed our worst fears about the way things look, but I'm praying that in reality they'll turn out to be better than that. He said with the size of the lump (7cm), and the apparent spread to lymph nodes it seems to be Stage 3. I'm getting PET scan Monday to see if it's spread elsewhere, which would make it even worse.

I guess that's it for now. I've been crying for 4 weeks now, no need to type about my feelings and start the waterworks again. Maybe later.