Category: Stage IV

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Buy My Book!

Prototype of the book cover.

I’m so happy to announce I have started a Kickstarter Campaign to publish my new book: “One Day I Tried to Rhyme a Word with Onomatopoeia!” It’s a story of a young girl who sets out to rhyme a word with this very big, six-syllable word. She asks for help along the way, from friends, family members, and even pets! Some are more helpful than others, but at the end of the book she realizes all the sounds and rhymes she has heard in her adventure.

This story was started by our family. To pass the time on a road trip with our high-school sophomore, I said, “Let’s write a poem! Finish this phrase…One day I tried to rhyme a word with Onomatopoeia,” and from there the book was born. It has fun sounds and phrases, colorful pictures, and diversity. Diversity is a hot topic right now, which I am pleased to include in the book. The family is multi-racial, and the main character has colorful friends. This is one of my bucket list items, which I have finally taken the time to pursue. I am SOOOO excited to finally be at this place.

This is the first in a series entitled, I Can Say Big Words: The Six-Syllable Series. It will be published in multiple languages as well. Please review my Kickstarter video and consider making a pledge! This is an all-or-nothing campaign, meaning I must meet my goal in order for your credit card to be charged. I have SIXTY (60) days to meet my goal, so hurry!

You will find the book, some teacher rewards, as well as some rewards with a plush Bumble Bee toy. The Bees are crocheted by a friend of mine, who is donating the bees in honor of her mother, who also has metastatic breast cancer. We share that in common, as well as love for our Lord Jesus Christ.

What is on your bucket list?

Á la prochaine…until next time.

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Scans, Scans, Doctors and Chemo

It’s that time again… I’m sure my readers are a bit weary of the same story over and over and over again. Yet, I also know you like to hear updates on what is happening to me and my body.

On Monday I had another routine MRI of my brain. I have graduated to every four months, since I’ve been cancer-free in the brain for a year. My last scan was in January. I don’t even worry about the results any more. I know I will see my radiation oncologist and she will tell me if there is any cause for concern. We met on Wednesday, and once again my brain looks great! It appears the Gamma Knife has done its job. Now we continue to pray no further lesions will develop in my fastidious and quirky brain. (I just asked my husband to provide an adjective to describe my brain…that brought a laugh or two 😂.)

Scan on Monday, Doctor on Wednesday, and more stuff tomorrow.

The Woodlands campus is yet to bring echocardiogram to the center, so I still have to go downtown for that. They scheduled me first thing in the morning, meaning an early rise without time for a walk. I am told morning is the best time to go. But if you ask me, there is no good time to go downtown Houston 😔.

I am required to get an echo every three months. This is a strict rule or they won’t let me get my treatment. Perjeta and Herceptin can be hard on the heart. This is why we started walking, to strengthen my heart. For those who follow me on FaceBook, you already know our routine is to walk anywhere from 3-10 miles in the morning.

Oy vey… I had treatment scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, but this is the best they could do. I do think they are slipping a bit with the schedule, with all the work from home due to the coronavirus. Typically they have my echo on the books at least a week before it is due.

It should be interesting to see how the downtown campus is handling the pandemic. I typically do not get nervous going to get a scan or treatment, but admittedly I am a bit more cautious these days. At least they provide me a mask each time I go in. That’s one thing to be thankful for.

After the echo, I have to give blood, meet with my doc (virtually) and get his blessing for treatment (which I unfortunately can’t do virtually 😂). After all my medical is complete, we are heading to east Texas where he has a meeting, and we will hopefully see our grandson for his second birthday. (Where as the time gone?)

Looking forward to another busy and long day. Did I mention how happy I am that I am not working?

À la prochaine…until next time…

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SSDI and LTD

It’s official! I filed for SSDI (Social Security Disability Income), and I was approved! Woo Hoot! Early Retirement is what I call it. 😃 I have also been approved for (LTD) Long Term Disability through my company’s insurance. I got my first check in the mail today! (Still waiting for SSDI to kick in, as the government is a bit slower than the insurance company LOL😂).

When I was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer (MBC) almost four years ago, I immediately qualified for disability. That’s what I was told. “But, I don’t feel disabled,” I thought. I can walk. I can talk. I have use of my arms and hands. I could even do my job from anywhere as long as I had Internet and my laptop. I am a task-oriented person, and I have always had a strong work ethic. “You don’t work…you don’t eat,” was my motto (and still is, as long as you are able). I did accept a handicap plate for my car early on, for those days when I was doing chem and didn’t feel like walking as far. But the wheelchair on the plate made me feel a bit like an imposter.

Just because someone doesn’t look disabled, doesn’t mean they aren’t.

Even though I would qualify as disabled, I wanted to keep working for a variety of reasons. I felt more productive than I thought I would feel not working. I didn’t want to lose my sense of purpose. I have spent the past ten years developing my professional identity as a counselor educator and supervisor. It is difficult to let go of part of your identity–not that I have to completely–but working full-time in this position has provided me a reason to get up, get dressed, and connect with other professionals. I genuinely enjoyed my job and felt like I was helping people. I put my all into my job, maintained high performance scores and even earned multiple awards. To manage it all, I let go of any extracurricular activities. Fighting cancer became my main activity outside of work and family.

I admit I probably put a bit too much stock in what people might think if I stopped working. I had this theory that people look at you differently when you are not working. I thought they might think of me as “lazy” or “irresponsible.” However, we knew this day would eventually come. From the point of diagnosis, Tim and I talked about what it would look like if I went on disability.

We could send more quality time together, while I’m still feeling good. Perspective changes significantly when you don’t know how much life you have left, or whether you will even make it to the day you retire. Sometimes healthy people don’t make it to their retirement!

The more we talked, the more we liked the idea of accepting SSDI as an “early retirement.” Basically that’s what it is! Going on disability (SSDI) is equivalent to accepting what Social Security has to offer now, rather than waiting to see if I can retire and earn back what I have contributed. It is a tough decision. Social Security is much less than my current income. I committed to keep working as we knew it would take some time and planning to change our financial picture.

You see, two months prior to my MBC diagnosis, we bought a new house. It was a beautiful, 2-story house of 4,200+ square feet. We got a fantastic deal, so we bought it as an investment property. The plan was to keep it until retirement, and then sell it and downsize. It required two full-time incomes. We loved that house. It had a game room with a pool table upstairs, and a dark media room on the first floor with proper media furniture. That was probably my favorite room as we had a lot of family gatherings there to hang out. Well, I also loved my closet 😃 (the house has his and hers closets).

Reality pressed. We could not stay in the house if I wasn’t working. The options were limited: keep working, or begin the process of downsizing. Alternatively, Tim would need to take on additional work, which would defeat the purpose of spending more quality time together. It honestly took a while for me to accept the possibilities of not working. I admit this was a very grueling decision for both of us. It is a process, but we learned to trust the process.

Aside, when I was diagnosed with brain mets in 2018, and experienced the Gamma Knife in January 2019, the decision became easier to downsize and move toward disability. We both agreed that brain mets qualifies you for disability income 😂. We put our house on the market and sold it in May.

Three years have passed since my original MBC diagnosis, and we finally managed to pull the trigger. We downsized and moved into a smaller house in August. I do love our new home. It’s just the right size, and we got to pick out the colors. I finished out the year at work, then I informed my boss I would not be coming to work in January of this year. And as previously stated, I got my first disability check on May 11th.

God is good. He is faithful.

Hebrews 10:23

While I am now earning a small disability income, I still feel pretty good. I do get fatigued at times, but now I can lay down and take a nap in the middle of the day without feeling guilty, or worrying about whether I have a meeting to attend to. When I have scans, chemo, or doctor’s appointments I don’t have to take my laptop and work around it, stressing over whether I will have time to complete my job. I do plan on being around a while. My body is stable, but I’m still considered “terminal.” I will always qualify as disabled even without any progression of the cancer.

Looking back (which I only do on a rare occasion), this was the best decision we could have made. I have a new sense of purpose. I am able to work on projects that have been sitting on hold for years. I can spend time with my grandchildren, garden, cook, clean, and organize things around the house. I can play the piano, tap into my creative side, and simply enjoy the small pleasures of life. I can blog 😂. Most importantly, Tim and I are working on ministry opportunities which we can do together, to advance the Kingdom of God. This is my purpose.

Á la prochaine…until next time…

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Drip During the Pandemic


Today is chemo day. I also saw the physical therapist to get measured for a new sleeve. Admittedly, it was a little intimidating going so “far away” from home. Amazing how perspective changes so quickly. Under normal circumstances we could all be diagnosed with agoraphobia! 😳

I put on make-up for the first time in quite a while, and set out for my big adventure. See picture below. 😂

With the pandemic heating up, MD Anderson’s protocols have also changed since my last treatment just three weeks ago. For starters, no one can come with us. Tim drove me here as usual, but he couldn’t come in the building. 😩😩

They still screen you at the door. Even moreso now. I was welcomed by a trio of face shields and protective clothing. Start with a spritz of hand sanitizer and then the screening begins. This time they also screen by taking your temperature…At the door. It’s in the ear so you don’t have to remove your mask.

Last time I was here, they asked if I had traveled to Wuhan, China. Yeah, right. This time…have you traveled outside of Texas? That’s a bit closer to home.

Last time there were only a few people wearing masks. This time…they hand you one if you walk In the door without your face covered. It is now required for all persons in the building. If you have a fever you can’t come in. If you miss one of the questions you can’t come in. Well, that was an assumption on my part. I didn’t have a fever so I really didn’t know what they would do. I asked my nurse when she came back in. She confirmed my suspicions. They are screened the same way as we are. If you don’t meet the criteria they will send you to the parking lot where a large tent now resides. This is one of the many screening locations for the Coronavirus.


In addition to the mask, you have to wear your yellow armband everywhere you go, which shows you have been screened and meet their “safe” criteria.

More changes to the drip. An extra clip, a different attachment… and the pharmacy seems to be behind today. The wait was quite exhausting. An hour here, an hour there… I did tell Tim he could stay home, but he insisted on coming even though he can’t join me. He’s working in the car since all the restaurants are closed.

On the bright side, I got to enjoy a room with a view. 🙂🙂 We’re almost done so I’ll close for now. It’s been a long afternoon!

À la prochaine… until next time…

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Pandemic – Coronavirus

Two days ago the WHO declared the coronavirus a pandemic. This has resulted in unprecedented changes in our country, as well as around the world. Schools, churches, and other gathering places have closed for an indefinite period of time in my area, as well as other parts of the United States. As one of my friends noted: when Disney World closes, you know things are getting bad. This is not true in some countries where there are many COVID-19 cases, I am told, where schools are still open and the numbers of ill are increasing exponentially. It has been interesting from a people-watching perspective to observe the various responses to this current crisis.

The thing I least expected was the shortage of toilet paper. Many people are asking why? The short answer is based in at least two psychological phenomena: retail therapy and panic-buying. Buying all the toilet paper on the shelves helps people feel a sense of control in an environment where they sense a lack of control. It’s relying on an external locus of control to control one’s internal emotions (retail therapy). Also, if you walk into a store and see everyone buying toilet paper, you may panic and start buying your own (panic-buying). It’s a good idea to stock up on essentials, but a strong head on your shoulders can be helpful in this panic-driven society.

God is our internal locus of control. He has it all in control. Let’s not forget that.

Honestly, I’ve been wondering why we haven’t seen the same phenomenon happening with diapers and wet wipes, but that may not provide the same sense of relief for a purely personal need. Are we thinking only of ourselves? Hmmm. 🤔 I suppose we could go back to washing out cloth diapers. Then again, we could do the same as our ancestors did before toilet paper existed and use a corn cob. 😂😂😂

I’ve digressed.

As a patient with metastatic breast cancer, my curiosity with the coronavirus has heightened due to concerns of my own immunocompromised body. My white blood counts are fine at this time, but I am told my body has a harder time fighting infections, viruses, and diseases due to the cancer that still lives within. I take lots of supplements, use essential oils, and of course I pray many times throughout the day. I am also washing my hands frequently, using the 20-second rule.

We were traveling when all of this began. We have been on the road since March 2nd when we left Vero Beach. First we went to the Exponential Conference in Orlando where 5000+ church planting professional gathered together. (They didn’t seem too concerned about the Coronavirus at the time). Next we drove to Charlotte, NC for Tim’s national council meetings (starting to see a little concern in the US at that time). And now we are in Oklahoma City for a wedding he is officiating for a friend (pandemic and panic are evident across the media). My observation is that the change in attitudes and behavioral responses happened very quickly, as does the spread of this virus.

It is surreal, as it seems life goes on in most of the places we are visiting. Restaurants are filled with people, as are the malls and hotels. Yet, notices of school closings and other event cancellations have been showing up on my FaceBook feed and ticking across the TV throughout the night. Every news channel and radio station is focused on this event. This morning I prayed God would direct me to the places that are virus-free. We will be back in Texas on Sunday, and then I can hunker down and stay home until this passes.

You may recall I belong to an online support group of over 5,000 MBC patients. I posted a thread… “Coronavirus check-in. How is everyone doing?” which started a very active discussion from patients living all over the world. Most of the threads said they were doing okay, with a brief update on what is happening in their world. A couple of people used the forum as an opportunity to state their political views, of which I was uninterested to participate to be honest. Aside, this isn’t about politics. You can argue the response of various leaders from both sides, and no matter how red your face gets, the other parties will become even further entrenched in their views. It’s just not worth it. We believe what we believe, and we need to accept that. We need to work together here to fight this thing.

MBC group members in the hotspots seem to be a bit more concerned than the rural areas, while many are trying not to let this interrupt their flow of positivity. Overwhelming responses to my question indicated we are more aware of our frailty, and we are taking whatever precautions are necessary to keep us safe and healthy. But this is something we do all the time, so it is not necessarily new to us. At least two people in the thread have contracted the virus, or are being tested for it. Others have bronchitis, the flu, pneumonia, or other major illnesses. It is challenging enough to fight cancer without this added concern. For them I am praying.

In addition, there is a fear that if we do not “flatten the curve,” medical professionals who are inundated with cases will be forced to choose who gets treatment and who does not. In essence, doctors will be placed in an ethical position to say who lives and who dies. This is already happening in other countries, and could happen here if we do not contain the virus. The concern in my group is that we will not be deemed valuable enough to save, since we have already been diagnosed with a terminal illness. We would not receive the last ventilator, for example, if they did not have enough to go around. One woman has been fighting MBC for 11 years. She is doing well. Her body is stable, but she still has MBC. She has children to care for, and she expressed her fears that the medical professionals would place her lower on the list of those “valuable enough” to save, if it came to that.

There are those who still feel we as a nation are overreacting. Perhaps. I am not writing this to debate whether the decision to close flights or other gatherings is the right or wrong thing to do. I am writing this because I think it might be helpful to inform you of the fears that go beyond the lack of toilet paper, whether or not we can go to school or church, or whether we can go to Disney World or the Houston Rodeo or an NBA game. I wanted to let you know there is a real concern amongst those who are battling a chronic illness, cancer, and probably the elderly. MBC patients live daily with the reality of life and death, yet now have to face yet another crisis that impacts already frail emotions.

So far I am virus-free, and so is my hubby. We are taking precautions as much as we can. It is suggested we stay home. Stay away from people. Wash our hands. I agree, and I plan to stay home as soon as we are home. 😉 But there is another side to this as well. Every time someone goes into public with the potential to infect another, they are putting others at risk. You may not even know you are infecting others. While social distancing may not feel good, I think we can find a way to make this work. Altruistically. It’s only temporary anyway. Let’s rely on the words of Jesus for this one…

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.

John 13:34-35 (NIV)

Á la prochaine…(until next time).

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Last Flight for Chemo

It’s not my last treatment, as I am a lifer, but it is the last time I will need to fly home from Vero Beach for my triweekly infusions. Tomorrow is our last service. Then Monday we will say good-bye to the staff. Or, as one parishioner so aptly put it while quoting Tigger, “It’s not good-bye. It’s TTFN.” I loved living in Vero Beach, and I imagine we will be coming back for visits from time to time. Good memories here.

The flight home was … interesting. It was a full flight with more wheelchairs than the norm, so boarding took some time. The incoming flight was delayed as well, so we had to clear a path for those deplaning. Orlando flights are always filled with children, some of them happy and some in need of a nap, so you never know who will be sitting beside you. I did get the extra legroom thanks to my Premier status, and I always hope for someone small. A child is not so bad, and we typically get along.

I was on the aisle, and in the middle seat next to me was not a child but a large gentleman who would, from time to time, break into a violent cough. He ordered a Bloody Mary for himself and his female companion in the window seat beside him. He downed the first one, ordered another, and fell asleep before drinking it. The full cup sat on his tray, with his hands snuggled beneath the tray, head slumping further and further forward as the flight continued. At one point the cough startled him and woke him up. His reflexive hands sprang upward, stopped short by the tray, and resulted in a Bloody Mary tray. How it stayed upright I have no idea, except for the grace of God, as it only spilled onto the tray and managed to keep the rest inside the glass. I don’t even know what goes into a Bloody Mary, but I was glad it didn’t take flight and make its landing on me as I envisioned the red stains would be difficult to remove. I sat with my hand over my mouth for most of the flight.

Tim, on the other hand, rode the motorcycle home. It took him two days, in the rain and cold weather. On the first day he rode over 700 miles, which he could not have done with me on the back. I wimped out, as he would say, and decided to fly home. The beginning of the trip looked promising, but the thunderstorm he rode through was reminiscent of some scary rides, so while I would have preferred him as a riding companion, I was glad I didn’t have to bear the storms.

Happy Birthday!

Thursday evening we went to dinner with two of our little JEDIs. Alison is turning FIVE on Tuesday, and we will not be home for her birthday, so we celebrated with dinner, a gift and some fun. All we were missing was a cupcake, so she made one with her play-dough and we sang happy birthday with her imaginary candle. What a great kid! I can’t believe our oldest granddaughter will be five years old. Time flies before your eyes.

Treatment yesterday went pretty smoothly. I was originally scheduled for the afternoon, but I had called and rescheduled to the morning so I could come to Dallas with Tim (he led a church Vision conference). And boy am I glad I did! A water main broke in downtown Houston, flooding 610, as you’ve probably heard. This resulted in at least two of MD Anderson campuses closing. They diverted many of their nurses and patients to The Woodlands where I go for treatment. They were starting to trickle in as I was waiting for lab techs. Who knows how long I would have waited if I didn’t reschedule to the morning? Whew! Crisis averted. My nurse was aware of our tight schedule, so she got me out in plenty of time to go with Tim to Dallas where we spent last night. He started the conference in the evening, and he is finishing up as I am writing this blog.

Last night was an interesting experience. We don’t see this very often. I was awakened at 3:38 AM to the sound of people talking. At first I thought it was a television set, and then I realized a couple was arguing in the room next to us, or in the hallway. I wasn’t for sure. He was cursing at her and calling her names for not letting him see his kid. This went on for a while so I called the front desk, who subsequently called the police. It did calm down, but I lost more than hour of sleep. They gave us our money back for the room, with several apologies. I was not the only one who had complained.

I woke up early and came to the airport, after dropping off Tim, saying hello to the church folks, and returning the rental car. I was on a much earlier flight than him to Houston (the same flight to Orlando), but the water main break resulted in my favor. I asked them in the United Club if I could get on Tim’s later flight. Because of the water issue, she moved me to his flight and didn’t charge the change fee. This made it worth my while to use my United Club pass, where I am enjoying free tea, soft drinks and snacks all day, in addition to breakfast and lunch.

It’s been a crazy busy few days, but one thing I know for sure is this…Christ came to this earth that we might have life, and have it more abundantly. We are living life daily and enjoying each step of the way. I don’t want people to see me. I want them to see Christ in me. It is His strength you see, not mine. It is His peace I feel. Without Him I would not feel very peaceful at times. It is His healing that touches my body. He is keeping me alive for a reason. No matter what your circumstance in life, give Him the glory. As we focus on Him we are at peace with all things…family, health, work, and ministry. God has it all in control.

Á la prochaine…until next time!

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Sleeeeeepy

“Dear Sleep, I’m sorry we broke up this morning. I want you back.”

–unknown

I woke up at 3:15 AM to the sound of my husband’s lovely dreaming. After tossing and turning for an hour I decided it was better to get up and work than to lay there sleepless. 😴 💤 😑

Now I’m paying for it, of course… It’s been 12 hours almost to the minute since I first woke up. 😳

Technically, I’m not working. I’ve been helping out at the church, typing Employee Handbook and other documents for review. It’s been great to do ministry without the stress of actually working. I can say yes, or I can say no. I can do a little work or I can go to the beach and put my feet in the water. I can sit at Panera without the stress of meetings with learners or faculty at work. It has been so nice not having to work with all my scans, treatments, doctors visits, and wonderful travel to get there.

I’m not sure what will happen at the end of the term. Will I go back, or will I stay off…? “Early retirement” sure sounds good right now. 😊

We have a few weeks to decide whether I can handle it. 🥱 Now pardon me while I go take a nap…

Á la prochaine…until next time!

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Sharing My Journey

When I was asked to share my breast cancer journey in the chapel at the church where my hubby was serving as interim pastor, of course I said yes! The date was set. We promoted it for a few weeks and I was really looking forward to sharing. But I got sick in the middle of the night…the not-so-good (is there any “good”?) kind of sickness. 🤢 🤮 💩 Whatever I ate the night before came out with a vengeance. I was in no shape to go to church or share my story. It was all I could do to climb out of bed and make it to the porcelain bowl. My sweet husband stepped in and shared his perspective. He’s been so busy, but he did that for me. I’m sure his side of the story was entertaining as well, but I knew I would need to set the record straight and correct some of his antics 😂.

So, a few weeks later, we tried again. This time I was not sick. I was actually feeling really good. I was fully prepared, and I even figured out the Apple TV so I could share some “never-before-seen” pictures of my cancer journey. I showed them my 2013 smiling face just before surgery, and the portrait of me with the “crown” screwed onto my head from the Gamma Knife a little more than a year ago. I was smiling in that one as well, but right after my doctor took it and showed me the picture, I broke into tears. Reality bites…

That’s how it is on this journey. It’s not a straight, uphill or downhill ride. It’s a supersonic roller coaster with surprise twists, sharp turns, sudden drops, and steep inclines. Sometimes it makes you want to scream, and other times you can’t help but laugh. It can be gut-wrenching and emotionally draining, while at the same time we often forget we are living with a serious illness. We just go on living.

I sometimes wonder how long the ride will last, but then that moment passes and life goes on.

We had a great turnout. The chapel was full…standing room only. I shared my journey, explained a few things about breast cancer and different types, provided some tips for caregivers, and most of all gave God the glory for my currently stable body. It was a great day. (My only regret is that I did not get a picture to remember the day. Hard to believe, I know! I did not take a picture.) 😃 😂

That is but a small and insignificant consequence of being fully on and fully present. Living life abundantly means glorifying God with my life, living each day to the fullest, engaging with people, and being mindful of how my life may impact those around me. I have since had several people come up to me and share how much they learned that they didn’t already know, how it helped them, and how it will help them to help others. Women have asked me questions which helps them to make better choices about their own health. A few people bought books, and others are probably reading this blog as soon as I hit the “Publish” button. I feel like this speaking gig was a success on many levels, and it gives me encouragement to continue to do more. If I can help even one person by sharing my journey, it is worth it.

Á la prochaine…until next time!

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Test Results – PTL (Again)

Earlier this week I flew into Texas from Florida where we are completing our short-term assignment as Interim Pastors. Since we are out of state, I have been scheduling all of my scans, doctor visits, and treatment all in the same week. I am here from Sunday to Sunday. On Monday I had a bone scan, CT scan of chest, abdomen and pelvis. Tuesday was the Echocardiogram. A couple of days at home and playing with the grandkids was a nice reprieve. Today (Friday) I saw my oncologist and got my treatment. I was in a bed-room. Yes, I had a bed. 😊 Tim joined me this afternoon as we are here to experience the launch of our newest church plant this Sunday.

As stated in a previous blog, I had an MRI of the brain the last time I was in town, which seemed to indicate a new lesion on the left frontal bone of my skull (brain was all clear). Yet, the whole body bone scan completed last Monday showed continued stability, with no new growth. And the CT scans were also normal, with no lesions or new growth. Basically, everything is still stable! For that I am grateful.

As it turns out, the MRI was completed on a new machine in The Woodlands (I have been going downtown for these). The radiologist looked at the pictures again, and he amended the report. Instead of new lesions on the frontal bone, he saw lesions on the parietal bone, which is where they have been all along. It has something to do with the slices, and how they view the pictures. My doctor is on top of it. He admits he isn’t a radiologist, but he looked at the pictures and they didn’t look any different to him. He asked for the radiologist to look again, who then amended the report. Here’s what the addendum says, in case you need some reading material to put you to sleep 😂:

The reported enhancing marrow replacing lesion within the LEFT frontal bone on further review is actually in the LEFT parietal bone and when reviewed on the 3-D T1 post contrast imaging is seen to not have changed in size compared to the October 2019 examination. The apparent increase on spin-echo T1-weighted post contrast imaging is likely due to slice selection. The lesion is is best seen on the current study coronal 3-D T1 post image 91 where it measures 17 x 6 mm. On the 3-D T1 post contrast coronal imaging from the October 2019 examination, the lesion is seen and measures 17 x 6 mm.

This is all good news! Still stable. No new metastasis. No new growth. My blood work looks normal. Echo was fine. Now we have all of my scans in The Woodlands, so they can compare from this point on.

I am in the process of moving most of my other doctors and scans to MD Anderson as well. They now do colonoscopies and endoscopies right there in The Woodlands campus. My last colonoscopy was in 2016, so it’s getting close to time for that. They also have dermatologists, and it is time for my yearly skin check. Looks like this facility is going to become my one-stop shopping for all my preventative care. 😊

Á la prochaine…until next time…

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Old Love

I witnessed old love at my aunt’s funeral today. Sixty-two years of marriage, and a few years of knowing each other before that left my uncle feeling a bit lightheaded and quite uncertain about the future, as well as unclear on what we were about to experience. One thing was clear…these two were very much in love. ❤️

I came to Ohio to ensure my uncle (my mother’s brother) had company on the nights before and after the funeral. I’m really glad I came. If mom was alive, she would have been the one to stay with him and keep him company. So, I came for her as much as I did for him. She would have wanted me here.

Last night I helped the family mount family photos on the display board, which would provide a gathering place for many stories during the viewing. Many memories were shared around the table as pictures continued to fill the display. More memories continued from some old pictures from my mom’s middle school photo album, of people and cars and houses. Pictures of ancestors to whom we could all relate.

One request she had was for the family (men) to wear suits. We got up early this morning, with plenty of time to eat and get ready. I had to check on him a few times. His frustration had mounted after numerous failed attempts to button the top button of his newly pressed shirt, which turned into changing clothes twice and a few meltdowns along the way. I managed to get it buttoned despite my own neuropathy ridden fingertips, only to have it unbutton itself a few minutes later.  Perhaps the tie will cover up the top button, he decided, and thus we left for a long day at the funeral home.

He insisted on driving, and I was not going to let him go by himself, so I rode with him in his Cadillac SUV rather than taking my car. He’s a pretty good driver for 84, quite frankly, although a bit slower on the reflexes as one might expect. This one thing continues to give him a sense of independence. He said the family should be there at 10:00 (viewing at 11 and funeral at 1:00), so 10:00 it was.

When we first arrived, he went straight for the casket. I gave him space to be alone with his wife, as we were the only two there. This is where I witnessed old love firsthand; it broke my heart to see them separated by the eternal mortality of life and death. He said several times through the sobbing, “this is the last time I’ll see her.” Even though he knows they will be together in Heaven one day, it is not quite the same. I was brought to tears as I thought of my own husband, and what he might have to endure if the cancer decides to take me Home. I saw an image of him sobbing over my body, feeling sad that he had to let our future on earth together end at this moment. 

Most of the time I was able to hold it together, and support my uncle with whatever he needed.

Several of my cousins were there, and it was wonderful to see them again, or for the first time. My first cousins, first cousins once removed, spouses, and close friends of the family.  I have not seen some of these people in many years, and I might not have recognized some of them if they were not introduced to me.  It seems I might even be related to the officiating pastor. He is related to many Centers out of Mount Sterling, Kentucky, so it is quite possible we are distant cousins.

I was asked to read the obituary, and so I did. Several friends and family gave some remarks, a couple of songs were played, and the pastor provided a message of hope to the congregation. The minister was confident my aunt was going Home based on conversations they have had in the past few weeks. He described her as a Proverbs 31 wife and was so glad to get to know them and support them in this time of need.

I regretted not having my car, as there was the question of how I would get to the cemetery from the funeral home when it came time. The family was riding in the limousine but there would not be room for me to ride. I was blessed with my cousin’s wife’s offer to drive her car, and even more thankful it had a good heating system. There was a light snowfall, barely visible, but cold enough to wear a coat and gloves and turn on the heated seats (if one had them). 

She will be placed in a mausoleum with her son who has been gone for more than ten years, and where my uncle will join her one day as well. The area was covered where we all gathered to pay our last respects and leave our handprint. The pastor’s message was brief. Psalm 23, another message of hope.

I chased the limo back to the funeral home, where lunch was waiting for us. The caterer prepared a nice meal of lasagna, chicken breasts, salad, mashed potatoes (comfort food), veggies, and some bread. Of course, there were cookies and brownies for dessert. I was glad to see my uncle eat a full meal, to know his appetite is back even if temporarily. 

As I write this, he is sitting in his room, their room of at least 15+ years in this particular house, their shared space for 62+ years, where he hasn’t come out since the funeral. At first, I thought he was changing clothes or taking a nap, but then I realized he was just sitting at the foot of their bed…staring…thinking…still dressed in his suit. I think he fell asleep while sitting there, staring into space. I did check on him to ensure he is okay, and I will continue to do so. I can’t imagine how hard it will be after I leave tomorrow. The house already feels empty without her here.

Á la prochaine…until next time…

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