I Did Land I Promise

I've been thinking for days, "I need to blog." It wasn't until I expressed to Jim that I need to blog and he replied, "Good. Because you are still in the air." that I realized where I had left off on my last blog entry. "What a week!" is all I can say. Time goes by so fast...even when you are in pain.

My two weeks at Stanford differed drastically. I still can't wait to share about the girls road trip. It will be titled, "Special Addition." I just feel I need to get you caught up first.

Jim and his mom traveled with me to Stanford last week. This is mom's 3rd trip with me. Thank goodness because she has become my brain when it just refused to work. Her love and patience have been special gifts I graciously needed during these trips. I've sadly given her the experience of traveling with a daughter who is going through an emotional breakdown. The manner of these trips has been so difficult. My brain didn't always hear what my heart was feeling.

I honestly vaguely remember Monday evening to Tuesday morning - it's a blur. I'm sure Jim and mom feel the same regarding Tuesday for the many hours they waited for me. The procedures were running behind and then I was in recovery several hours longer than they expected. I just remember pain. I woke up in so much pain. I expected less pain because there would be less pressure. My expectations were way too high I'm guessing.

I really had a hard time coming out of the anesthesia. Once that happened then the pain and nausea arrived. I felt terrible for Jim and mom because I was not in a good place mentally when they were finally allowed to see me. I was freaking out because my arm looked no different, I was in so much pain, and the fact they had decided not to admit to the hospital but release me to return to the hotel. All I could think about was I would be throwing up all night in a strange room. Thank God for an angel he brought dressed as a male nurse.

Craig or maybe it was Greg...I don't remember...pumped me with enough anti-nausea medication for 5 days (the 6th day it wore off - trust me). He gave me enough pain meds to get me to the hotel. I was on my own from there. I should say the 3 of us were on our own because my pain became their pain. This did not become a funny episode of Three's Company. There was little sleep. When my body gave in and slept, I think the two of them had given up. I woke up to an empty hotel room. I had to call Jim to find out where they were at 10 am.

I wish I would have stayed asleep. I quickly learned that the doctor had released me to travel a day earlier than expected. Jim told me we were going to try and make the 3 pm flight. I instantly thought he had lost his mind. I couldn't possibly imagine getting on a plane less than 24 hours from being put under anesthesia. My flight time choices were 3, 5 or 9. I was leaning towards 9 (the next day) - especially because it meant we would have to leave our hotel room three hours before our flight.

I realized what I had put the two of them through the last 24 hours and they just wanted to get home. I quickly feared if I didn't leave on one of these flights they might leave without me. I was very close to calling my dad and asking him to come get me when I decided to suck it up, pick the 5 o'clock flight, and start packing. I just put one foot in front of the other. It helped that they got me a wheelchair at the airport. It also allowed for priority seating. My situation was finally good for something.

I will never know if having the procedure was worth it or not. The doctor explained to Jim, and then to me that they inserted another longer stent within the existing stent. They were not able to correct any other veins. The procedure so far has not made any difference in my arm, EXCEPT for increasing my pain from manipulating the arm. I can't even straighten my arm any longer. My therapist is not sure if something was done to my elbow.

Now...lets go back a week to the following Stanford trip...

I completed my PET Scan on Wednesday, May 4th. This test at Stanford is done completely different than what I've experienced. No three hour boat ride. When I explained how I've had the test done before the tech looked at me in disbelief. It would have been a fairly easy test if I didn't have the discomfort of my arm. After I completed the exam I was told the doctor would have the results the following day.

Waiting is never easy....especially when you see the doctor almost 2 hours after your scheduled appointment. When her assistant (I'm assuming) came in she didn't say...how was your trip?...you have beautiful eyes....or, what do you think of Stanford? No. She said, "Wow, you're complex!" Really? Always remember, first impressions, or first words, can stick with a person. For some reason it stuck with me. I was grateful that woman wasn't the one who would be my actual physician.

I really liked my oncologist at Stanford. She was informative, kind, and gentle. She tried to express from her view point the journey I had experienced before she continued to explain what she had learned from my PET Scan, and provide her recommendations for a plan of treatment. She confirmed that the redness I had under my arm and around my back was breast cancer that had penetrated the skin. The breast cancer is in the tissue, lymph nodes, and skin. I have another area around the sternum (which is causing a lot of pain too), and another lymph node on my right side.

It was exactly 6 months to the day that I had gone to my "previous" doctor questioning the redness under my arm. So frustrating!!!

The oncologists recommendation is several cycles of a combined chemo regiment. I do not qualify for a clinical trial until I have undergone one more attempt of "standard medicine." Right now I don't know if this is good or bad. Undergoing standard medicine will allow me to have treatments within my doctor's facility. The oncologist at Stanford does believe I will respond well to the combination of medications. She believes we should see a difference within 2 cycles (6 weeks). The cycles will be once a week for two weeks I will have a treatment with the third week off. Day 1 and day 8, and then it starts again on day 22 (hope that makes sense).

I begin chemo this Wednesday, May 18th around 10 am. I meet with my doctor at 9:30 am and then immediately begin chemo. I still hate that word. I'm having a really difficult time with it all. If it wasn't for the "carrot" hanging in front of the situation saying this might take away your pain - I just don't know if this is the direction I would be taking. Maybe God knows that.

My family heard respond well...I heard side effect nausea and fatigue.
My family heard swelling could go down...I heard blood count will go down.
My family heard this...I heard that.

I've thought about why? My only conclusion is that they heard "there is hope" and I heard "chemo."

I told myself and Jim that I would never go through it again. They are telling me it will be different. So Jim encouraged me to try again. It's just hard for me to understand that I went through the hardest chemo regiment and it didn't work, how is this one that isn't as strong going to work? My oncologist explained it's going to be a long haul, but it should be much easier. I frankly don't understand and maybe it's because I still remember and I haven't recovered from the side effects of the first drugs two years ago.

I'm going forward because my family heard hope.

First Corinthians 13 says, "Now these three remain: faith, hope, and love, but the greatest of these is love.

In The Message it reads: "Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love."

There is something that stirs in us when we hear the word HOPE. There is something that is much deeper when LOVE is involved.

Because I love so deeply is the only reason I can enter that chemo room on Wednesday. What happens from here on out is in the hands of God. My confidence can only lie in Him.