Today

This is my first bad day since the surgery. I had successfullly stayed in a daze of denial until now. To give you an idea, it is 9:30 am and I am still in bed. Remember, I have children so staying here until 7:30 would have been a luxury. So, the sun was streaming in on me more than usual, and I gingerly stretched and opened my eyes, as if I was to see a beautiful ocean view. Instead, I saw my femininely-painted pink nails, resting on the special mastectomy camisole I slept in. When zipped, the camisole hides my drains and pads my chest, so I almost feel human. But I suppose I unzipped myself for comfort during the night, as my hand was resting comfortably on the zipper, between two enormous sets of hideous scars and staples. The scars look very much like those on Frankenstein's head, to give you an idea. But they're bloody and brown, with a rainbow of bruising surrounding them, instead of a pleasant green that he had.

I'm so down today and don't know how to get through it. I suppose there's no real way to "give up" now anyway. Even if I opted to kill myself I couldn't, because I would look like this in my casket.

Alas, I will get through this too. Something good will come of it, right? I must outlive this cancer to know for certain that the generational mutation I have has been broken and my girls will not suffer from it. I can't tell you how desperately I don't want them to go through this. The testing is supposed to be a good thing, because there are things they can do to decrease their chances of the cancer. But, don't you know, the recommendations are that they have prophylactic mastectomies and their ovaries removed as soon as they are done having children. I understand that as the best-case scenario there are worse things, but right now those are the very difficult realities that are nearly breaking me.

By the way, no pathology report yet but last week I don't think I updated that my tumor markers came back great. A score of 0-40 is for normal people, and mine was 26.5. Amazing!

Romans 5:3-4, "Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perserverance; perserverance character; and character, hope."

Excuse me while I go rejoice...

Surgery Results

Hi Everyone - This is Yaacov with an update on Erin. The surgery went well yesterday and the doctors said things went according to plan. Erin's had a good deal of nausea thus far, but her spirits are high regardless. She'll likely be there through tomorrow at the very earliest, so prayers would still be appreciated that she regains her strength and mobility soon.

Throughout this process, I've been consistently drawn to John 15:1-2, which states, "I am the true vine and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful." This simple gardening truth rings as true today as it did when Jesus said these words. The illustration was a concrete reminder to His audience that those who are to grow in Him need pain, trials, and pruning in order. Given the choice, a branch would not ask to be cut, and would likely be content with its production. It's the gardener that knows what each branch needs in order to be most effective for the master. In the same way, we would certainly not ask for our daily struggles, and we often ask for them to be taken away; but it is He that knows what we need to bear our fruit for Him.

Though Erin's trials have tugged at my heart, as yours, and it's painful to see a loved one go through such incredibly hard circumstances, I have seen first hand the fruit she has born. The ministry and testimony that is now hers would not have otherwise been possible, and I consider myself blessed to be a supporter of my wife.

I'm reminded that Jesus' words in this passage paint a picture of duality such that the Father prunes and allows us pain, but also that He is near. A garderner is never as close to its branches as when it's carefully pruning.

Going in..

I'm about to go in for surgery. I need to be there at 5:30 am, sugery should start at 7:30. Yaacov will be responsible for blogging and updating people that I am perfectly fine.

I have been completely calm and fearless about this procedure. I was feeling like it was a routine thing, like getting shots. I got in late last night from picking my mom up at the airport though, and got worked up about my girls. Not the "girls" they're about to remove, my actual daughters. I realized I've been so focused on giving back to other people and my own recovery that I haven't given them the time or attention they deserve. I'm not just putting myself down, I have really been a bad mother lately. I would say it's ironic, because they are the very reason I was fighting to survive, and now because of surviving my priorities changed and not entirely for the best. However, that's not irony or coincidence. That is the enemy, and he won some battles. His cancer may not have taken my life but it briefly took my parenting skills.

Not anymore, I'm back. Or, almost back. I spent a lot of time cuddling with each of them in the middle of the night. They won't remember, but I will. And if something does happen to me in surgery, their last experience of me will have been perfect--quiet, intentional, prayerful, and overflowing my heart with peace, joy, and love.

A lot of people have reached out to me lately, and I haven't had a chance to get back to everyone. I'm sorry but do appreciate it very much. Talk to y'all soon!

Deut 31:8, "The Lord is the One who will go before you. He will be with you; He will not leave you or forsake you. Do not be afraid or discouraged."

Josh 1:9, "Have I not commanded you: be strong and courageous? Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."

I don't have time to type all these, but while waiting I will be praying and meditating on those along with Psalm 23 and Philippians 4:4-8.