Terminal Cancer

I can't sleep. I'm having flashbacks of my trip to MD Anderson from last year. I just went back and read the blogs I wrote then (1/9/12) and can't believe how upbeat I sounded compared to how I felt. The Lord really carried me through that awful time. I have thought a lot about it lately because, as I mentioned, my friend Alison went there for a consultation this Jan. 9. I thought it was really weird that out of 365 days, the Lord had her go the exact same day I went the year prior, so it's been on my mind even more. Incidentally, her trip there went well. They didn't offer any great surprises or news but agreed with the treatment she was on and approved of her current doctors, etc.

So, I've been thinking about that trip mostly because I recently realized that was the turning point for me. I had been forced to take in the realities of a terminal diagnosis and whatnot, but that horrendous meeting was the last straw in my precarious, man-made world. I was left so empty. So broken. So hopeless. I had held out so much hope that God would use that trip as a lifeline. I knew He could heal me any way but thought all the signs pointed to it being that way.  It was that much more insulting with those hopes to show up there and be treated like garbage. Or, like litter. Garbage matters enough that one picks it up and takes it to a dumpster. Litter is more insignificant, left for the wind to carry off or destroy. I am so thankful that our Lord doesn't see me like that though. That it wasn't the wind, but the Lord God Almighty who lifted me up. And instead of destroying me like I deserved, He carried me through the storm and blessed me like never before.

I am burdened by a new group of terminal cancer patients that I've been learning about. The truth is that the doctors insist they're dying because they are. Technically, anyway. It's not the doctor's faults, it's the result of our fallen world. But as long as I live I will declare that only the Lord can number our days, and that no matter how small the frequency, once in awhile He pulls us out of the fire just in time. So it's not true that everyone dies once it's stage 4. Even if there's just a .000000001 percent survival rate, it's still something. If He did it for me, He can do it for you. Or your friends or loved ones. So, please keep praying for God's miraculous interventions in the lives of all the sick people we know. And keep believing in and expecting those miracles, just like the faithful followers who went before us.

"Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father." John 14:12

More

I'm utterly destroyed. I feel like that woman ripped my heart out, then everyone in the oversized parking garage drove over it. Then instead of returning it all, they laughed and stapled just a segment of the pulverized organ to my ugly bald head and kicked me out the door.
My support system has been great until now, but there's no help for this type of sorrow. God needs to do a serious intervention just to get me through the day. Yaacov too.
That's all.

Psalm 80:4
O Lord, God Almighty. How long will your anger smolder against the prayers of your people? You have fed them with the bread of tears; you have made them drink tears by the bowlful. You have made us a source of contention to our neighbors and our enemies mock us.
Restore us, O God Almighty, make your face shine upon us, that we may be saved.

Texas

We got in last night, right before a storm. It started this morning, just in time for my appointments at MD Anderson. There was a tornado watch and flooding everywhere. The signage here is awful so I trudged through the rain (without an umbrella) for half an hour before finding the place. Soaked and frozen, I texted with friends that it could only get better.

I was wrong.

Now that I've lost my hair, at my best I feel like a hideously disfigured clown, so it wasn't hard for the cruel doctors to crush what was left of my spirit. Still, they did everything in their power to make sure I was utterly devastated. It worked. First, the nurse practitioner met with me and told me there was no point in my ever having surgery to remove my tumor, because I'm going to die of cancer anyway. Then the esteemed Dr. Litton came in with two witnesses to drive it home. "Don't look at this like chemo will be done in 6 months and the you'll move on. Think of it like you're chronically ill and maybe you'll be on chemo until you die." When I became teary eyed she pursed her lips, tilted her head in an exaggeration motion and said without emotion, "I know." Just like she learned from reading the back of an empathy book. I didn't bother taking notes on all the helpful tidbits she shared, but she repeated them all for me so I wouldn't forget or get confused. "I would hate to give you false hope...our goal is not remission, it is just to control it... Metastatic means it spread. If it hadn't spread, it would be different...cancer is smarter than us..." Then she sent me on my way.

I wish I had been strong enough to say something awesome about how God is smarter than her and cancer. Instead I thanked her profusely. Then I ran to our rented minivan and sobbed until I was dry heaving. The agony and profound sadness I felt was incomprehensible. I knew there was a chance there wouldn't be good news here, but I didn't need to drag my family over here to be pounded with negativity. And why on earth did I feel such peace and joy about coming here?

I'm barely even breathing so haven't worked much out yet, but the general thoughts I have are that God gave me the excitement about coming so 1) I would come and 2) I would feel hope when I needed it. Maybe for some reason when the trip came together, God knew I really needed that good news. And of course there is a time for every season, "A time to weep, and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance..." (Ecc 3:4).

A pessimist might think I'm here to learn that I'm going to die. But I don't see a point in that. I've heard it before, and don't see why I would need to go through all this hassle to get it engrained in me. It is well-documented that people with the most positive outlooks stay healthier and respond better to treatment, so I'm going to reject the hypothesis that God would send me here to learn to shut up and die. Instead, I'm going to consider it more documentation that humans aren't responsible for my imminent, total, (unexpected to the medical community) healing. Selah! 

Before my appointment, God showed me a verse I now think pertains to these doctors trying to get me down. I'm going to cling to when I get upset about this experience: Col 2:8 "See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces of this world rather than on Christ."

Please note that Yaacov and I are trying hard, but this one is still a pretty deep wound. If people are looking for something to pray about, I would really appreciate a focus on lifting our spirits. I very much appreciate all the prayers so far, and we'll continue to pray for supernatural healing as evidenced in my next PET scan (didn't have one here yet but probably will in Tallahassee in the next month or so). 

We were scheduled to be here through Friday, but I'm done here so we're going back in the morning. 

Jeremiah 14: 19

"Have you rejected Judah (Erin) completely? Do you despise Zion (the Petschers)? Why have you afflicted us so that we cannot be healed? We hoped for peace but no good has come, for a time of healing but there is only terror. We acknowledge our wickedness, Lord, and the guilt of our ancestors; we have indeed sinned against you. For the sake of your name do not despise us; do not dishonor your glorious throne. Remember your covenant with us and do not break it. Do any of the worthless idols of the nations bring rain? Do the skies themselves send down showers? No, it is you, Lord, our God. Therefore our hope is in you, for you are the one who does all this."