Walking and Podcasts

As a cancer survivor (I think "thrivor" is actually better), I was encouraged to make exercise part of my daily routine. My favorite form is walking. In fact, I often don't consider it exercise but a treat for myself in the midst of the daily grind.

When I was in treatment, many of you will remember, I set up a walking schedule for friends to accompany me, motivating me to get outside on even my roughest chemo days. I cherish the memories of the friends who put on their shoes and supported me in this way.

Now that I'm post treatment, I don't have the constant stream of friends coming to my door for a walk. I do have a weekly walk time with a friend while our kids are in a homeschool science class. During the summer, I was a lot better at scheduling walks with friends. In the busyness of the fall and winter, especially with the constant threat of darkness and rain looming, I take advantage of any free window I can to take a walk. These spontaneous outings do not allow much room for scheduling with friends.

It was a few years ago when I started listening to audio books checked out from the library on OverDrive on my Iphone. It was a painless way to get through the classics and other literature assigned to the homeschool literature class I helped teach. I remember chugging up the hill on Cathcart with the sound turned up as I listened to Jane Eyre. Another time I wore my long blue raincoat as I circled the parking lot at our homeschool co-op while listening to Jekyl and Hyde.

From the classics, I started listening to memoirs and essays, Bittersweet by Shauna Niequest became a favorite because it was read by the author. Shauna had no idea how many miles she churned out with me.

Just so you don't get a wrong impression of me, not all my books have such redeeming qualities. At Christmas last year, I found a Debbie Macomber Christmas story, Angels at the Table, absolutely full of all the sap and predictability you would expect. I've been known to listen to Karen Kingsbury and John Grisham and Nicolas Sparks as well.

Then a friend told me about Podcasts. She was my roommate at our church's women's retreat last spring. She showed me how she could listen to sermons she missed because of frequent business travel. Soon I was discovering favorite Christian authors like Shauna Niequest, Jennie Allen and Jen Hatmaker had recorded messages spoken at churches, conferences and retreats I could listen to while I walked. From there, I discovered the wide world of podcasts. Have you?

Here are my favorites to listen to when I lace up my sneakers. In fact, my listening goes beyond walking these days since I can now listen to podcasts over bluetooth audio in my car. Aren't you impressed?

My all-time favorite so far is The Happy Hour because it's like going on a walk with a new girlfriend every week. These women who chat with Jamie Ivey have pretty amazing lives, starting a business to help support women in developing countries, traveling along with international adopting parents to photograph the first interaction with their children, tons of authors and speakers and worship leaders and readers. So inspiring!

This is a long podcast for those extra long walks, sometimes annoying, other times laugh out loud fun. Several guys (not even sure who they all are) and guests (including Shauna Niequest on a regular basis) discuss relevant stuff  on faith, music, culture and life. Interviews are thrown in for kicks. Pretty crazy stuff.

I heard about this podcast from The Happy Hour podcast, which seems to be the way I learn most of my new things these days. Every week Megan Tietz and various co-hosts share what is "sorta awesome" of the week. I've since joined the Sorta Awesome facebook page and its offspring, Sorta Literary, which has been a great resource for new books. I've heard about products and organizing techniques and ways to stay in the moment and lots of other things that don't quite stick around, but each episode is like opening up a present and discovering what's inside.

Other podcasts that I've enjoyed are the ever-popular Serial (yet I find it better to listen to on long car rides than on walks. Not sure if I'm going to like this new season, though, but if you haven't heard season 1, I highly recommend it); If: Gathering Podcast (love the guests and topics, but the episodes are recorded infrequently so it isn't my go-to podcast), and The Archibald Project where I'm introduced to families who are adopting or fostering orphans all over the world.

That's my initial list. I heard on my walk today about a new podcast I will try called Magic Lessons, by Elizabeth Gilbert. Everyone is talking about her new book,Big Magic and I think it might be fun to learn how to be more creative. Haven't heard it yet, so who knows if it'll stay in my playlist.

What are you favorite podcasts? I would love it if you would share with me in the comments. New podcasts help fuel me as I cover the miles through my neighborhood.

Update: Today on my walk, I listened to Magic Lessons and I have mixed feelings about it. I love Elizabeth Gilbert's use of language and imagery. Her discussions reach past the surface to some interesting, creative areas. However, as a Christian, I need to filter some of her insights through the truth of God. It's not the universe calling, but God's calling on my heart. It's not reaching inside myself to uncover my ability to create, but it's seeking out what God has created or will create through me. One truth I am walking away with, however, is that if I am called to create, then if I tap into that part of me, I will be a better mom, wife, friend and person. I fully claim that truth and hope to connect more into the gifts God has created in me this coming year. Will you join me?

Ordinary Life through Pictures

 For fun, I thought I'd take snapshots of my day.

 On this Saturday in December, my day started with an early morning walk with my faithful companion.

 On my return, I noticed the blooming flower on this plant which resides in my entryway. Years ago, when my mom died, friends gave me this in her honor. The plant has survived several moves and infrequent watering, yet each year it blooms. It is a special reminder of my mom as well as my dear friends.

 My breakfast usually consists of this granola, almond milk, blueberries and either Greek yogurt or Kefir.  My almost empty jar required a new batch of granola, so I threw together a bunch of oatmeal, nuts, pumpkin seeds to slowly bake while I ate breakfast.

 Quiet reading of my bible with beautiful Christmas decor in the background filled up the rest of my morning.

 Time for chores because there are always dishes to be loaded and unloaded.

 The boys and Walt hung Christmas lights. 

 Saturday vacuuming

 At 3, we were at our church. We host a huge Christmas party for hundreds of families, mostly young women who choose to give life to an unplanned baby. Step By Step is an organization that walks with these moms, not only during the pregnancy but for years later. These pictures are of the volunteers who serve these families either as hosts, waiters, food service, activity coordinators, parking attendants or countless other jobs.

Evening hosts receiving instructions

Fueling up on pizza before the guests arrive

 It's a huge event, with our whole church participating, as well as several other partnering church.

Walt and I are in charge of coat check. All these chairs, and another room just like it, will house the coats, hats, and strollers of these families. The families also are able to choose a toy for each of their kids from hundreds of donated toys. We hold these gifts in bags for them to discreetly take home. 

Clean Up

Ben vacuuming the stairs

Moving back tables

 

Afterwards, everyone pitches in to clean, move back furniture and restore the church for services tomorrow. 

When we got home, I popped some popcorn and watched a Hallmark Christmas movie. Now it's time for bed. These day are full of amazingly normal things.

Thankfulness

On this beautiful, brisk fall day, Walt and I welcomed Thanksgiving with a long walk along frozen sidewalks and crispy grass. Sugar acted like a puppy, lunging at new scents and enjoying the cold air. Coming home, I settled in my favorite chair to read my bible and pray. My journal is full of thanks, no requests today.

*I am thankful for energy to walk for an hour and a half, remembering the time at the end of my treatments when I barely made it through our small neighborhood.

*I thought about the time in 2012 when today was my only break from daily radiation treatments, thankful that I don't have a trip to the hospital in store tomorrow.

*I am thankful for my messy curls sticking out of the hat I threw on this morning.

*I am thankful that my next doctor's appointment isn't until April, a six month stretch from my last appointment in October.

*Needless to say, but important to recognize, I am thankful for health.

*I am thankful that I did not meet my insurance deductible this year, the first time since my cancer diagnosis in 2012.

* I am thankful for my own family, remembering Thanksgivings shared with other families when I was single and far away from relatives.

* With that in mind, I am also thankful for our good friends who open their home to us yet another Thanksgiving, so my family can merge with hers and other friends, enjoy the varied dishes (especially her famous stuffing!), and share our lives.

My list continues, pages and pages of things I'm thankful for, gifts like Salvation and Mercy and Hope. Memories of Thanksgivings hosted by Walt's mom, huge spreads put on by my mom when I was young, my own attempts at cooking the big meal.

We have so much to be grateful for. Life is not perfect, it's downright hard sometimes, but it's always good. Worthwhile.  Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good! His love endures forever. Psalm 118.

Thanksgiving thankfulness!

Never-to-be-forgotten Summer

All in all, it was a never-to-be-forgotten summer — one of those summers which come seldom into any life, but leave a rich heritage of beautiful memories in their going — one of those summers which, in a fortunate combination of delightful weather, delightful friends and delightful doing, come as near to perfection as anything can come in this world.” ― L.M. Montgomery, Anne's House of Dreams

“Summer afternoon — summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.”

—Henry James

I'm sitting on my porch, dog by my side, a dragonfly flitting over the rhodies, a plane leaving a white trail in the mostly blue sky. I hear the occasional squeals of happy neighbor children, but it's mostly quiet as my own are gone on adventures of their own. This is one of the rare open summer afternoons of this summer. I was determined to use my free hours wisely, but then I taste the sweetness of one of the last lazy afternoons left of summer, and I give myself permission to just be. Well, I open the laptop, and inspired by not having to write, to not having to do anything, the words flow freely.

First, I need to share this picture with you. It's from Nathan's blog when he was nine. He actually started it when he was eight, hence the name, http://adventuresofaneightyearold.blogspot.com .

If you have a chance, read through the few postings he wrote because they are just beyond precious. This now 15 year old is trecking the Pacific Coast Trail with a few other scouts, carrying all he needs on his strong and tall body, living in the wilderness for five days, covering 50 miles with his own boot-covered feet. I'm eager to hear of the adventures when I pick him up on Saturday, but until then, let me share with you this picture:

Oh, I forgot to tell you it also includes a shot of our dear friend Abby. This was at Lincoln Rock during our camping trip in 2009, where Nathan water skied for the first time,  and we made memories of soaking up the sun, boating on the river, and enjoying great fun around a campfire with close friends. I miss those simpler days. While in the midst of parenting young kids, I had no idea they would be considered simpler. Now, my kids are older, have jobs and responsibilities, are so busy that a weekend trip is almost impossible.  I wish for those earlier days, but at the same time, I am so proud of my kids and the growing they did this summer. 

Instead of meeting friends at a park or at the beach, as we did in their younger years, I've spent most of my summer in a car, driving the kids to their activities. Nathan finished drivers ed this summer, went to boy scout camp as the troop's Senior Patrol leader (and navigated the leadership responsibilities expertly), spent a week each at church camp and band camp, and now, capping off this busy summer, he is hiking 50 miles. 

Becca, too, had a summer of growth and adventure. She found a job working in a law office, which is an amazing first job for anyone. The experience and working environment is wonderful, with the only downside being its  location. Three days a week I drive Becca to and from the office in north Seattle, navigating about 90 minutes of rush hour traffic,  but grasping onto the opportunity to have my now 17 year old to myself for those hours. In the midst of brake lights and merging lanes, I enjoy discovering more things about her. Our conversations have been the silver lining in our tough commute this summer. When she isn't working at her law office job, she works at her horse barn to help pay for lessons. In the midst of all this work, she has gone to two amazing camps which included activities like cliff jumping, tubing, cave spelunking, rock climbing, whitewater rafting, hiking, and above all, growing closer to God.

Becca, her friend and group leader rock climbing

This will probably go down as a summer to remember for both of my older kids. While Ben has had a much quieter summer, it has not been without some growing, too. He spent about a month at a daily tennis camp run by the high school tennis coach, meeting new friends and developing strong court skills. Ben and I find ourselves often playing tennis, laughing and challenging each other.

Ben at tennis camp, last man standing

During his time at our church's summer camp, he experienced the ups and downs of getting sick. In the early  morning hours of his second day at camp, he urgently made his way to the bathroom. After his second trip, his friend Colton  noticed and encouraged him to go see the camp nurse. We received a phone call that morning that Ben had been throwing up, so Walt and I immediately left our treasured time away together to go be with our son. Two and a half hours later, we found Ben sitting in the shade in the nurse's tent, surrounded by his good buddies, Colton and Estif. If junior high boys can be any more supportive of each other, I can't imagine. After spending a bit of time in camp with Ben, checking to see if whatever he had might pass quickly, we decided that Ben would benefit from at least one night at home.

Estif and Colton saying goodbye to Ben

Fortunately, after a good night's sleep in his own bed, a shower and some comfort food, Ben was ready to return to camp. Another two hour trip south and a quick hi to Becca and Nathan (it was Becca's 17th birthday), Walt and I were finally able to return to our little getaway. The time away was fun, made all the more precious by the reminder of what is really important in our life. These kids will be home with us only a few more years, and it is an honor to watch them grow into the adults that God intended them to be. Ben experienced the bonds of a strong friendship, that two 13 year old boys would forgo some of the fun to help pack up his stuff and stand by him while he wasn't feeling well. These two friends were one of the firsts to welcome him back to camp with huge grins. What a great thing to discover amidst the pain and disappointment. 

This summer has been unlike any I've experienced so far as a parent.  My kids are making great choices, are growing, are becoming more independent. Yet, when they are sick, or discouraged, or need to hear that they've done well, it's us, their mom and dad, who get to fill that void. There's no better role in life to have. Without being too overly dramatic, I feel led to add that my cancer journey has seasoned my role as a mother with a greater sense of awe, of thankfulness, of priority.  I heard news of a fellow homeschooling mom, a lady I spoke with once but who was part of the same co-op, who finished her race with cancer this summer, going to her eternal home, leaving her family behind. Hearing this news was a reminder to me that this time is sacred. Nothing is to be taken for granted. 

As the days of summer wind down, this glorious summer afternoon spent writing on the porch will be hard to come by again, I am thankful for the chance to recognize how even this is important. That each conversation, each word of praise, each instruction spoken from my mouth begins the beginning of the end. The kids will grow up and leave the home. Walt and I will be empty nesters. We will cheer from the sidelines as they continue to lead their lives. At least, that's the hope. With a cancer diagnosis, there is always the fear that things aren't going to work out that way. That's why I don't dwell on the fear but I relish in the now. The summer breeze, the quiet, the joy of today, the trust in God's plan. I hope this is a "never-to-be-forgotten summer" for me, too, and the same for the fall, and the winter, and every season I have the opportunity to live. 

Lab Results and New Meds

I realized that life has me running these days and I forgot to post the results of my doctor's visit last Friday. I actually peeked at the lab results prior to the appointment, and I knew that pesky tumor marker was up again. When Dr. Kohn entered into the room, she said that for the most part everything looked fine, except the CEA marker was up again. I mentioned that I had discovered that already, and she asked me if I saw that the rest of my results were fine. I did, but of course, I wondered what she was going to tell me about the elevated marker.

Just to refresh your memory, tumor markers pick up proteins in the blood that can be caused by cancerous tumors. The CEA marker in particular picks up an indication of gastronomical cancers (primarily colon) which earned me an extra colonoscopy last summer. Before going into the office, I noticed a trend in my numbers from last year, elevated in the summer and decreasing in the fall. I asked my doctor if by chance it could be related to spring and summer allergies. My allergies were particularly bad on the Friday I had the blood draw.

Dr. Kohn didn't think that was the missing puzzle piece, but she admitted that there could be any number of benign (non-cancerous) reasons why my tumor marker is up again. The normal range is under 3.0, and my marker was at 3.2. She mentioned that tumor markers really do not add to the survival rates of patients treated as curative (early stage cancers that the doctors pursue treatment to get rid of the cancer entirely as opposed to cancers that have metastasized). Percentages and numbers are an oncologist's holy grail in deciding treatment and follow up, but Dr. Kohn admitted that it was hard to forego checking the markers. She wasn't going to stress about the slight increase (her words), not even make me come in for a blood draw in two months (which was the protocol we followed last year). Instead, she said she would see me in October, when I was due for my next mammogram.

I had hoped this was how she was going to react to this report. When I did a bit of research again, it seems like people were asking about tumor markers that were significantly higher than normal. If my marker was at a seven or even a five, I would be concerned (especially since some patients online had scores of 27 or 54). But .2 over normal? Especially since this seems to be the trend from last year? Perhaps this is my normal. I usually do things a bit above average, so maybe I'm following that through with tumor markers.

I did decide to try another aromatase inhibitor. I felt like I needed to try one more time because it would give me a bit higher survival percentage and more importantly, didn't have the added uterine cancer risk that plagues tamoxifen. Granted, the survival percentage is very small as is the risk for this secondary cancer, but combined, I felt it was worth trying once more. The last time I tried an AI, the doctor prescribed Arimidex. After a few days, I noticed itchy spots on my abdomen and top of one foot. Then when I forgot to take Claritin one morning, my throat began to swell and I realized these were symptoms of an allergic reaction to the medication.

I started my new med, Aromasin, on Friday. So far, I haven't experienced any negative side effects. I'm trying not to be overly sensitive to my skin itching or whether my tongue feels numb. I've decided that I'll know it if it's a reaction, but I don't want to make one up by overly thinking about it. I'm on the alert for any red bumps, which I haven't found. The best thing is I haven't experienced the achiness that I experienced on Arimidex. This is a common side effect of an AI. This was probably one of the main reasons why I hesitated about switching before. Quality of life, being able to exercise without pain, being flexible and strong, is important to me.  So, as of now, everything looks like it is going well.  I'm so thankful.

So, my season of testing is finished! I am off until next October when I'll undergo a mammogram and blood draw. If everything looks good, my next appointment isn't for six months. Six whole months!! I'm ecstatic over those numbers. Until now, I'll continue living each day for all it's worth, enjoying my kids, the sunshine, this marvelous life that God has blessed me with. And you? Is there anything you are putting off because of fears? Anything you need to try once more? Any test or medical procedure you have been avoiding? Schedule it, perform it, just do it. Remember, God's got your back!

Glimpses of God in an MRI Tube

MRIs can be a relatively easy procedure--if it were on a knee, for instance. But for a breast MRI, the positioning needs to be precise and difficult, and the lying facedown is anything but easy. For me, now an expert at these things, I knew what to expect. After positioning and adjusting and readjusting a bit more, the technician hits a button and the table with me on top is inserted into the tube. I hear the technician's voice in between sessions, but the only view I have is a mirror reflecting a painting on the wall behind me. Add in the necessity of lying absolutely still to the uncertainty of what the test might uncover, it could be a difficult procedure.  Some women require an anti-anxiety drug prior to the test, like Ativan, to make it through. My drug of choice is prayer. I pray and I ask for pray from my friends. There is something so sweet and encouraging to be waiting for my name to be called, and a text pops up from a friend, reminding me that they are praying. That happened several times, before going in for my blood draw, and then moving down the hall to diagnostic imaging... I knew God was with me, but the alerts from my friends helped me feel even more supported.

While undergoing the procedure, I also listen to Christian music to remind myself that God is with me and to help me relax. I was thankful that the technician knew exactly what I meant when I answered her inquiry about the type of music I wanted to listen to. It was as if God personally selected songs that would help get me through this time. Yes, of course, He did! We often overlook minor miracles in our midst because our eyes are closed. Yesterday, I noticed how God arranged the songs especially for me.

The first song on the set was Matt Redmond's 10,000 Reasons. In between the clanging, stutter sounds and whoop-whoops, I heard pieces of...

Bless the Lord, O my soul

Sing like never before, O my soul...

Whatever may pop, or lies before me, 

Let me be singing when the evening comes... 

...You are rich in love and slow to anger...

For all your goodness, I will keep on singing,

10,000 reasons for my heart to find....

More clanging, whooping, dit-dit-dit-dit staccato sounds, a pause and then through my headphones:

Who breaks the power

of sin and darkness?

Whose love is mighty

and so much stronger?

The King of Glory,

The King above all Kings...

This is amazing grace!

This is unfailing love!

That you would take my place,

That you would bear my cross...

"Okay, keep still. I'm ready to start your next session...." Bang, whoop whoop...

There was one more  song, but for the life of me, I cannot remember it. Oh, wait, now I recall. It was so perfect. Oceans (Where Feet May Fail) by Hillsong United.

You call me out upon the waters,

The great unknown

where feet may fail.

And there I find You in the mystery,

in oceans deep,

my faith will stand.

And I will call upon your name,

and keep my eyes above the waves

When oceans rise, my soul will rest in your embrace...

The technician pulled me back to start a contrast liquid into my IV, and I felt cold seep into my arm. Seconds later I tasted chemicals, similar to chemo, but I told my mind to not go there. Six minutes or so later, she was pulling me from the machine and I carefully pushed myself up and off the table. A quick removal of the IV, and I was escorted back to the dressing room. I wore athletic pants to the appointments (my friends are not surprised to read this since I wear them most days), and because they had no metal, I was allowed to wear them for the procedure. So the redressing was quick, and I was on my way back down the long hallway and out to my car. Well, I did treat myself to a cappuccino at the hospital coffee shop. I told myself if all the tests are clear next week, I'll splurge for a pump of vanilla in a latte!  

When I arrived at home, Ben popped out to the garage to ask if he could go over to a friend's house. 

"All done with your grammar?" I asked. He had a couple pages left and we were determined to finish it before summer break.

"Yup!" he countered. Very deep conversation. I'm sure you are all intrigued. I was feeling a bit tired, however, having not slept well the night before and feeling the effects of the procedures. I was so thankful he had a fun place to go.

Dropping off the groceries I picked up from Trader Joe's, something inspired me to check the front porch. I spotted this beautiful display of flowers: 

Another flower arrangement by Krista
Thanks, sweet friend!!

So my tests are finished. School is finished. Just like the older two are waiting for their final grades, I'm waiting for my test results. I haven't let it spoil my relaxing weekend. Nice, long walk with Walt and Sugar this morning. Time in God's word and prepping for my last bible study meeting tomorrow. Yard work in the afternoon. Of course, a bit of blogging now and maybe time for reading... My eyes are open, looking for glimpses of God as I wait. What about you? Where is God showing up in your day? 

Last Day of School and MRI

Last April (oops, it was really January!), I stood at the check out counter at the oncology clinic, making an appointment for an MRI and blood draw. My calendar noted it was the kids' last day of school, June 12. (Because of a one day teacher walkoff, their last day of school is technically June 15th now, but no one I know is sending their kids on Monday.) It's amazing that tonight I'm sitting on the eve of that day that seemed so far away, looking at how fast the time went. The  kids have taken numerous tests, written several papers and made presentations in class. The dreaded end-of-course exams, including Becca taking a biology test even though she hadn't studied the subject in over a year, are finished.  Tonight, Becca is completely done with all her finals and for the first night in ages, she doesn't have to finish up school work for any class. Nathan has one small test tomorrow. While I am at my appointments, Ben will finish the bit of grammar he has left, the other two will be saying goodbye to teachers and friends, participate in a crossover assembly, and then come home to a whole summer break stretched before them. It's truly remarkable that we are already at this day. I wish we could celebrate it other than by me lying in an MRI tube. Oh, well. Such is life.

Of course, I'm praying that my tests are benign, and that alone will make a great celebration. I first have my blood draw and then will head down the hall to imaging and wait for my MRI appointment. It's been a year since I was here for an MRI, but this is also the same place where I had my thyroid tests last fall. I won't find out the blood test results until I meet with my oncologist next Friday, but I recall receiving a phone call regarding my MRI results last year.

I've really felt God's peace this week. I am amazed that I haven't felt one ounce of dread or worry as this day approached. I know God will be there with me, I know He has a plan and already knows the answers to whether the radiologist will see anything tomorrow. Let's hope this is just another test checked off my list, and not the beginning of something bigger or scarier. It's just a test, I remind myself, and afterwards, we can truly welcome in our summer break.

Supported by Grace

Krista's Flowers
Every week during chemo, Krista dropped off flowers for my porch.
 Last week she came over for a bbq and brought me a jar full again!
They represent God's grace to me, undeserved but so beautiful!.

A week or so ago I had a terrible dream. I dreamed that my cancer was back and I had to undergo chemo immediately. All the emotions felt real: angst about losing my hair, worrying about nausea, wondering how we were going to keep pace with the kids' activities... When I woke up, I had to remind myself that it was a dream. It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't real. Even though my head agreed, my emotions had trouble catching up.

Usually cancer floats around my consciousness, like a fragrance I've grown accustomed to smelling. Some days it bursts through my senses, like the whiff of a strong, putrid scent.  Because I recently shared my cancer story at our church's women's retreat, I've again ripped open the emotional scars of going through chemo, the ups and downs, the nausea and food aversions. My subconscious, while I slept, must have picked up on those emotions.

When I first received my cancer diagnosis, I knew God would use it to glorify Himself, to touch others. I tried to be faithful to this, including being willing to share my experience with anyone who asks. So when Susan, my friend and women's ministry director at our church, asked me to share my story at this year's women's retreat, I immediately said yes. It wasn't necessarily something I wanted to do, but I felt it was something I needed to do to make sense of my cancer. I was able to share how God never left me, even in the midst of my hardest days. I shared how God's grace met me every day. I described how suffering isn't the absence of God's goodness, but His means of getting our attention, removing the fluff in in our lives so we can truly see Him. It was emotional and good. I tried not to be pollyannish about how God met my every needs, but I shared how some days were brutally hard and my pain was raw. On those days I had to dig and hunt for a glimpse of God. My prayer as I prepared and as I spoke was that God would use my words and experience to draw someone to Him in a new way.

At the end, I opened up for any questions. One lady, the mother of our junior high youth director, came up front and told me she, too, underwent treatment for breast cancer, about six months behind me. She even has my same doctors! I also noticed another lady who was openly sobbing through my talk. Afterwards, she caught up with me and shared her story. She was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer, her cancer already having spread to her bones. We connected, we shared, we teared up.

It was an amazing weekend. The new friends I met, the stories that were shared keep rolling around my mind. I've been thinking of cancer, too. I'm sure this fueled my dream the other night. Shaken, I remember getting out of bed that morning and immediately replaced the dread of chemo with thankfulness that it wasn't my reality today. It threw me off a bit, but after spending time with God, reading His Word, praying, following God's lead as I started my day, I felt better. I still feel the emotions of that morning, because, in truth, the possibility of recurrence is real.

Next Friday, I go back in for an MRI. I remember the fear surrounding that first MRI, the fresh cancer diagnosis not quite settled into my reality. Last year's MRI was easier because I was so much more acclimated to these sort of tests. My worry was  that the highly sensitive films would show more spots that would need biopsying. Last year, everything was clear. I'm praying for the same this year.

Yet today, on this beautiful sunny Saturday in June, with our backyard waterfall roaring in the background, the breeze gently blowing and Sugar keeping my company, I'm enjoying the present. As I told the ladies at the retreat, as long as I focused on what is right here, God would be with me. If my mind wanders out into the future, God's grace isn't there. That's where I hope to stay this week, supported by God's grace. Want to join me?

Wish you could hear the rushing water

My faithful companion

God in Our Midst

Nathan turned 15 this week. On his actual birthday, Monday, he found out he didn't make the golf team. On Friday when he invited a few buddies over to help celebrate his birthday, he came home with a splitting headache. Even though I could tell he was struggling, he soldiered on so his friends would have an enjoyable time. The way he handled this week, how he rolled and never complained, gave me a glimpse of the man he is soon becoming. I have the privilege of cheering him on.

Last week were the tryouts for the high school golf team. He was a bit hesitant, unsure if he wanted to pursue something he was still pretty new at. Yet, he took the step, knowing it was a long shot,
knowing it was a journey outside of his comfort zone. He had a blast. One amazing day on the course solidified a new love for the game. His coach wrote him a warm-hearted letter, thanking him for his effort and respect for the game. He encouraged him to continue to practice and tryout again next season. While some could have left feeling discouraged, Nathan is all the more determined to get better. I admire that in him.

Nathan after his band concert this week

I just checked on him since it is after 1pm and he is still in bed. He has a fever of 102. I offered him some juice. He accepted it with as much appreciation as if I offered him his favorite meal. Anything else I can do for you? Nope, I'm good. He takes no small gesture for granted. He is our middle child. As a middle child myself,  I thought I knew how to manage family dynamics. He is offering me lessons in humility, servanthood, gratefulness.

Since my cancer journey, I've had an opportunity to look at things with new eyes. Each moment is precious. Relationships trump activities. I still have a hard time not panicking if I'm running late, but even that has mellowed a bit as I realize its lack of importance in the whole of life. Life is fragile. It is beautiful. It is daunting and tremulous. This idea that we are parenting teenagers reaks havoc on any sense of control I once thought I had. Their decisions at this age are huge. The consequences are unnerving. Yet, what a privilege it is to walk alongside my kids, to witness their successes and be the soft landing for their struggles. I'm thankful that my disease is at bay so it doesn't steal away from these last precious years as my kids launch into adulthood. Just as my kids' futures are uncertain, so is my health. The only thing that is certain, the one thing I know I can count on, is the love of God who holds this all together.

He knows if Nathan will make the golf team next year. Or if it will even matters. He is in our midst, rejoicing over us with gladness, quieting us by his love. (Zephaniah 3:17) I am currently working through a bible study called Wonder Struck by Margaret Feinberg. Every day I am asked to look for three wonders of God and His handiwork. It has opened my eyes to Him in new ways. Let me encourage you to look for Him in your midst today.

Still Cancer Free

As I was driving into the hospital this morning, I listened to Rend Collective's

 The Art of Celebration cd.

One verse resonated with me: It's only in surrender that I'm truly free...

As much as I didn't want to go into the doctor's office to find out what my blood test results were, I knew I needed to. Last night I was a bit cranky, sad that the long weekend with my family at home was drawing to a close, a bit anxious about this appointment. This morning, however, I woke up with a tremendous peace. I know it could only be from God. People were praying that I wouldn't be anxious. People were praying that all my tests would be clear.  God's grace met me as the sun came up today, and I worshipped as I drove in, singing, "It's only in surrender that I'm truly free." I surrendered my fears and anxiety to God as I crossed the parking lot and climbed the stairs. I was calm as I checked "no new symptoms" on my intake paperwork. As I waited for Dr. Kohn to come into the examining room, I simply read from my Kindle. Then Dr. Kohn appeared, systematically checking off her list: my blood work all is normal, white and red blood counts normal, tumor markers normal, liver function normal. I took a moment to silently thank God. We discussed whether I was going to stick with tamoxifen or try another version of the aromatase inhibitor (after my bout of hives from arimidex last fall). Weighing the benefits with the risks, I decided not to rock the boat at this point and stick with tamoxifen since I seem to tolerate it well. Besides the hives, I remember the pronounced achiness in my joints and stronger hot flashes with Arimidex. Dr. Kohn clarified that the increase in survival percentage of an AI is like one, not 40% or even 20%.  So, it's Tamoxifen for now. And that was that. I have an appointment for a followup MRI and labs on June 12 (which is also the kids last day of school!). 

On my way home, I celebrated by buying a cappuccino with coconut milk. Starbucks just started offering this non-dairy option, which I was eager to try. It was a nice alternative to milk, foamy and slightly sweet. When I ordered it, the barista warned me that she hadn't been trained on foaming it. I've looked cancer in the eye and lived to tell about it... I think I can handle an untrained barista foaming coconut milk.

Nathan, (Ben hiding behind), Walt and Becca on the trail

Then I rolled into the rest of my day, as if my appointment didn't happen. How different it would be if I was presented with concerns or worrisome results. Thank you, Jesus!

Yesterday the family went on a hike in Snohomish. Although the parking lot was full, the trails were pleasantly uncrowded--a bit muddy--but overall a fun hike. Who would have thought for February?

Today my job is to enjoy the moments of this beautiful day. I am back from a nice walk with a good friend. I plan on doing a science experiment with Ben soon.The sun is blissfully shining and I'm still cancer free.

Four Months Already?

Today I had a morning appointment for a blood draw. I prayed before and during the procedure that there would be only healthy, happy cells floating around. When the technician was filling up the tubes (I think there were four or five of them) I turned my head, as always. Red blood being drawn from my veins is not something I care to witness. If I could see inside the blood and know what was going on, I might glance a peak. Since only God knows right now, I'll focus on His Face and trust.

Other than an achy tooth from biting on a pretzel a bit too hard, I am feeling amazingly well. Even something which I hope is just a bit of nerve irritation that will calm down in a day or so can lead my brain to what ifs during these days of medical tests and appointments after a four-month hiatus from all of this. What if it's not an ache in the tooth but an ache stemming from the brain where a tumor might be growing? Yup, even the most calm, level-headed person can quickly jump on that bandwagon, because she has had a cancer diagnosis before. For four wonderful months, I've tried to hold thoughts of cancer at bay. It's been four months of focusing on the day, of spending time with family and friends, savoring well-written books, nibbling on fresh fruit and homemade granola, even fitting in a bit of tennis and golf in the midst of my usual walking routine. It has been four splendid months of living life in the moment.

Now, I'm scheduled for a followup appointment with Dr. Kohn on Tuesday, my blood is available for analysis, and I'm back home writing and baking homemade granola. It seems like the serious is mixed with the normal today. Medical tests with daily life. In reality, whether I am preparing a meal for my family or relaxing with a good book and a cup of tea, whether I'm enjoying the unseasonably warm weather on a walk through our neighborhood, no matter what my day brings today, I'm living a serious choice. I'm choosing to trust, to rely on the God who loves me, who knows my future, who knows what words I'm going to hear in my appointment on Tuesday and has already gone before me. I'm living my faith daily, knowing God is good and can be trusted. No matter what. No matter how good or how hard. So, despite my reluctance to re-enter this world of doctor's offices, I am remembering to lean on God today.

What's your hard today? Are you being drawn to trust God in a new way? Are you choosing the serious work of faith in the midst of your normal today? If so, then make it a meaningful day.

Weekend Redo?

Running water is an amazing thing. Breathtaking. Welcomed. Useful. Refreshing. I could pretty much use any other positive adjective in describing how highly I think about water today. As I washed my hands before cooking breakfast, I remembered the day--well, Saturday, to be exact--when we didn't have water.  I was forced to use bottled water to rinse my contacts, wet down my hair, wash my hands, and, well, all the other things  you need water for. Our almost-camping-but-with-electricity-and-soft-bedding wasn't planned. In fact, we had lots of other options to consider on Saturday morning while the kids were enjoying themselves at Great Wolf Lodge for their youth retreat. Should we go biking? Golfing? Maybe take in a movie after a long walk? All the possibilities came crashing down when Walt muttered those infamous words, "We have trouble in paradise."

Trouble came in the form of a busted water heater, water pouring out into the garage, knobs that wouldn't shut down the way they were supposed to, and difficulty finding a plumber available last minute on a Saturday. After several calls, Walt was able to find one who could come out in the afternoon. I snuck in a walk with Sugar, and Walt took a trip to the driving range, but all our grand adventures we imagined for the day together dissolved in the water pooling up on the concrete floor as we waited for the plumber.

Because he couldn't turn off the water to the broken heater, Walt was forced to turn off the main water line, and we no longer had water anyplace inside the house. A spontaneous and necessary cleaning of the garage floor sparked a few more organizational projects around the house as we continued to wait. Mid-afternoon turned into late afternoon. Finally, as I took Sugar for her early-evening walk, I saw the plumbing truck turn up our street. Returning, I discovered a hose connected to the tank with water stream down the driveway. Turns out that Walt slowed down the water going to the tank, but not completely. Once the old tank was carried away, and the new tank installed, I expected to hear the rush of water coming from the shower when Walt turned the knob. Nothing. Only a trickle from the sink. Seems like trouble decided to stick around for another day.

The valve, which was made mostly of plastic, busted closed when Walt turned it off. The plumber said he had seen that happen so many times in these "newer" houses. His recommendation would be to get a new valve and reroute the pipe and other plumbing technicalities that I failed to catch. All I knew was we would be without water for the rest of the day, and to have  him return tomorrow, the Sunday surcharge would add to our already expensive weekend. Should we wait until Monday for water, with the kids returning and needing showers for school the next day? After a bit of discussion, the choice was obvious--we needed water. Well, okay, it is arguably correct that we didn't "need" water with neighbors willing to open their showers to us, but it felt close enough to a need for us to justify the extra cost. 

On Sunday, Walt stayed home to greet the plumber, and I headed to church. The kids were expected to arrive at the church around 12:30, so I agreed to catch a quick bite to eat with our neighbors. Caught up in our conversations, I failed to notice the texts and calls from Becca. Where are you? Are you coming? MOM! We are going home with the Sanders. Oops, failed at my parenting duty, too. They arrived early, I didn't respond to texts, Becca was tired and feeling overloaded with her school work awaiting her, that well, let's just say I'm thankful they were able to catch a ride and not have to wait the 10 extra minutes or anything.

When I finally got home, the house was quiet. No plumbing truck sat in the driveway. A shiny new tank anchored into the wall. I turned the faucet in the bathroom and witnessed the outpouring of the most fabulously beautiful clear fluid I have seen in a long time. Water! Not to be overlooked, or unappreciated no longer! Until the next thing I take for granted breaks, of course (hope you aren't listening washing machine, refrigerator, stove, car...) 

Our Sunday was redeemed! Our pocket book lighter, but we had the Super Bowl to look forward to. Friends! Food! Cheering our beloved Seahawks! Little did I know that trouble was lurking in the end zone, with seconds left to play in what could have, should have been, imagined to be the Seahawks great comeback win! Oh, Malcolm Butler, were did you come from? My Wisconsin family and friends can empathize with our loss, knowing all too well when their Packers saw victory snatched from their grasp. They probably empathized, but I'm sure not many were hoping for a Seahawks win. I understand. I probably couldn't have rooted for the Packers, either, if the tables were turned. With much disappointment and unanswered questions about the last play call, we packed up and headed home. To a home with running water, heat, food... It'll all be good... after a few days or weeks, or maybe in April when the Mariners start their season

I will say, though, as my eyes popped open early this morning, I couldn't help but wonder if it all was a dream, and perhaps we'd have a chance at a redo of the weekend.