Hope, Believe, Strength, and Faith...and the power of prayer

Every cancer patient knows the term scanxiety all too well.  It’s legit.  It’s the anxiety that infiltrates and taints any hope for peace leading up to a scan and waiting for the results.  I had my first CT scan since starting treatment on March 16th.  Scans during and after treatment tell how effective chemo and/or other treatments are in the fight against cancer. It can be overwhelming and hard to escape the stress associated with these scans.  I feel very blessed to have an extraordinary support system to help me through it.  So many people have reached out to me during this difficult time and words don’t do my gratitude justice.  It’s been a huge source of support that has honestly kept me going.  Thank you to the many who have offered relentless prayers on my behalf and words of encouragement and support.  I love you all so much for it!  

On Friday I had an appointment to meet with my oncologist to review the results of my CT.  Although my pain has virtually disappeared (a good sign the chemo is working) I couldn’t help but feel anxious.  How could I not?  I was relieved when my oncologist, Dr. Moon, sent me an email Wednesday telling me she had received the results of the CT and they looked really good!  She didn’t offer any details, only that the visit on Friday would be good news.  But how good???  I spent two sleepless nights tossing and turning wondering what was going on inside my body.  How much cancer had been defeated?  How much was still lingering?  

On Friday I entered Dr. Moon’s office with Brandon and my sister Jeanette by my side.  When Dr. Moon came in she pulled up my CT scan I had done prior to treatment and next to it pulled up my most recent CT from the 16th.  I was blown away.  My cancer had shrunk…a lot.  When I asked Dr. Moon if she had been expecting this kind of result she said she had expected a response, but not this significant!  Typically, after 3 months of treatment a 50% reduction in cancer is good.  After 2 months of treatment I showed an 80% reduction!!!  Incredible.  What a victory!  I can only attribute this to the power of prayer.  Relentless and unwavering prayer from so many.  

When I got home from the appointment a package was waiting for me from a very wonderful and thoughtful friend Ginnell. She had no idea how perfect her timing was.  Inside the package were four necklaces.  One for myself, my mom, and each of my sisters.  Each necklace has a key with a single word inscribed on it. Hope, Believe, Strength, and Faith.  This gift was meant to come to me on this particular day.  The significance of these words is astounding.  Each represents my fight against a terrible disease meant to rob me of my life.  These words represent everything that I have tried to embrace in spite of the fact there are days I fail miserably.  

HOPE:  The HOPE key went to my sister Jeanette.  She took a 3 month leave of absence from work to be by my side every single day.  She has been by my side for every doctor’s visit and chemo appointment.  She has been there to listen when I feel everything falling apart.  I know I should have argued with her when she told me she was taking a leave from work, but the truth is, I wanted her by my side because it’s easy to feel hopeful with her there.  I am hopeful that no matter what, everything will be okay. 

BELIEVE:  The BELIEVE key went to my sister Liz.  That woman doesn’t let me linger on the negative!  She is the constant force behind me, reminding me that I need to have hope and faith and that I need to BELIEVE I can overcome the obstacles before me.  

STRENGTH:  The STRENGTH key was most fittingly meant for my mom.  The woman that radiates strength.  She taught me how to be strong and to not let even the most devastating moments break me.  If she can be strong through this, I can too.  

FAITH:  I kept the faith key for myself.  With all the trials Brandon and I have been through I have never lost faith.  I would often tell Brandon that God was not done with us because my faith had never been truly tested.  This has definitely threatened to test my faith.  There are days I feel angry and devastated.  I try hard to focus on the positive and relish in the blessing that have revealed themselves.  My amazing sister-in-law Kimber sent Brandon and I a beautiful portrait of Christ after my diagnosis.  I keep this portrait by my bedside to remind me that Christ is by my side.  When I feel myself falling I look to my bedside and know I am never alone.  

There is no denying that I am beyond blessed.  I need only look at the countless messages, texts, cards, gifts, meals, and thoughtful love and support to know this.  I definitely feel the love :).  

A Mother's Grief

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer we weren't expecting it.  I had been told over and over I was too young, that the lump I had was a cyst, a benign tumor, hardened fat from an injury and finally cancer.  The day we drove to the doctor's office for the results of my biopsy was the day we were heading to camp for the summer.  For the last 8 years we have spent our summers working in Santa Barbara at Circle V Ranch Camp.  Not only do we get to impact the lives of thousands of kids each year, but you can truly and honestly feel the spirit of Christ everywhere you go there.

Our car was packed to the brim that day and I remember telling Brandon to just wait at home with the kids while I went to get the results.  We were confident this was nothing.  Why waste time finding someone to watch the kids.  No big deal.  Of course Brandon refused to leave my side.  I remember sitting waiting for my doctor and knowing something wasn't right when he walked in.  There were tears of course and shock, but there was something else there too.  Gratitude.  On the way home I remember turning to Brandon and telling him it's okay because I am strong.  I'm not scared, I can do this.  It could have been my child sick with cancer.  I couldn't take it if it were Ava or Leo.  I remember talking to the Lord that day in the car and telling him he chose the right person to fight this battle.  I gave him my gratitude that this wasn't my child suffering.  I could handle this trial, but I couldn't handle seeing either of my babies in pain.  That's the love of a mother. I know any mother reading this can understand.

In the midst of my prayers and my gratitude we pulled into my parents driveway.  They knew I would be getting my results and had been trying to call me for well over an hour.  But cancer isn't news you break over the phone.  In the midst of my praying and thanking the Lord, I forgot something.  I am my mother's daughter.  When I broke the news to her I'll never forget her look of grief.  She held my hand and said, "I ask God why my Kathy?  Why not me?".  My mom had been praying for the exact same thing as I had been praying for.  I failed to realize that while God had granted my prayers, hers were not.  This was my mother's worst nightmare, and while I felt relief, she felt undiluted pain and grief.

No matter what I have to go through, my mother will always suffer more than me.  I know this because I am a mother.  Nothing hurts more than when your children suffer.  I guess it's because we're helpless to make the pain and suffering go away.  The other day I asked Ava if she wanted to talk about anything.  Her feelings in particular.  I had been in the hospital for 3 days and she hadn't seen me.  If you've never met Ava, she's an incredibly special and intuitive child.  She's an amazing kid with personality for days!  We are open and honest with her about cancer and what it means.  She knows what chemo is, has seen all my scars, and liked to rub my head when I was bald.  When I asked her how she felt when I was in the hospital she said, "I was scared because I thought you weren't coming back".  I asked her, "Where did you think I was going?" she replied, "To heaven".  What do you say to that?  I can't tell her everything will be all right or that I'll be here a long time because the fact is, I have no idea.  What I did tell her was we come from a family of strong women and that she has that strength inside her too.  She is fierce and can overcome things that would destroy grown men.  We come from a line of women that stand and face difficulty head on and we don't back down.  I know now looking back at my childhood and my life that I got my strength from my mother.  She taught me I cannot be easily broken.  She taught me the true meaning of unconditional love.  These things I hope to teach my children, not just with words, but by example.

I'm so grateful my mother showed me her grief, that she didn't try to hide it or shield it from me.  Her grief taught me that pain is real and that no matter how consuming our grief may feel we have the strength and faith to rise above it.  I will never shield Ava from it either.  I hope she will see my bad days and know that I am a fighter and stronger than anything cancer can throw my way.  I want her to see and know the strength she will inherit, a gift from her mother.

When cancer comes back...

2 months ago...the day before Christmas Eve we sat in the doctor's office waiting to hear the words we had been dreading. 

2 months ago...we found out the cancer we thought I beat is back and has found its way to my bones. Stage 4. Incurable. 

2 months ago...we found out I will spend the rest of my life fighting for my life. 

2 months ago...we found out my kids may grow up without their mother and Brandon without his wife. 

2 months ago...despite the odds set against me we have hope and the determination to fight. 

2 months ago...we realized what family really means. They band together and stick by your side. I don't need to ask, they're just there. My army by my side. 

2 months ago...we realized, despite the devastating news, it has and continues to reveal countless blessing in our lives. 

2 months ago...I realized how strong I truly am.  

In 10 weeks this is what cancer looks like:

-Bone scan...hello radioactive contrast

-CT scan...hello more radioactive contrast

-PET scan...you guessed it, radioactive contrast

-Brain MRI...which wouldn't be complete without radioactive contrast. 

-Bone Biopsy...you are totally awake for this and have to lay really still on your stomach while they inset a needle with a small drill on the end 3 times into your hip and drill into your bone. They numb the area so you don't feel when they insert the needle, just the drilling when they reach the bone. 

-4 rounds of IV and oral chemotherapies (at least 12 more to go)

-Told I was pregnant and decisions would have to be made. It felt like a death sentence. Then told that I wasn't pregnant. Then the next day that I really might be pregnant and finally figured out I'm just going through menopause as a result of chemo. 

-Underwent surgery for Port placement in chest for chemo. 

-Allergic reaction to the derma bond used to close incision. Terrible rash!

-Deep vein blood clot develop in my left neck/arm as a result of port placement. 

-Removal of implanted port 8 days after it was put in...totally awake for this one, but actually didn't hurt much. Just freaks you out more than anything.  

-Lovenox blood thinning injections twice a day for 6-12weeks to treat and prevent blood clots. 

-103 degree fever develop after port removal which landed me an admittance to the hospital for 3 days. 

-ER visit one week later where a second blood clot on the right side this time is found. In the smaller jugular vein nonetheless. Extended treatment of 3 months minimum of Lovenox injections to thin my blood. 

All of this in 10 weeks.  10 weeks of constant fighting and pain.  

But I write this with a smile on my face and gratitude for those who have helped me make it through these past 2 months. Read this and remember what's important in this life. Take the time to tell your kids you love them. Tell your spouse their amazing. Stop right now and look around at the blessings God has granted you and give thanks. Our God is an awesome God that never leaves our side. Even in the midst of pain and the unrelenting bumps in the road God is by my side asking me to trust him.  I'm working on that.  

Thank you to my family and close friends for helping through this. My squad is badass!  Thank you for the delicious meals. Food is such a comfort and especially delicious when made by others. Thank you for showing up without being asked. Thank you for the loving texts, phone calls and emails. I often go back to them as a reminder that I am not alone. Thank you for dragging me out of the house for dinner and movies. Thank you for not letting me fall apart and give up. Thank you for the beautiful cards and beautiful flowers. There hasn't been a day in our home these last 10 weeks without fresh flowers. Thank you for being supportive when it felt like the lord was testing me. Thank you for friendship, for finding ways to help. Thank you for listening when I needed to talk. Thank you for showing kindness to my family and for finding ways to make Ava and Leo feel special at a difficult time. Thank you for just being amazing and reminding me that while I may be unlucky, I'm incredibly blessed. 

Cancer can kiss my ass. I am a strong fierce woman and I won't be going down without a fight. It may wear me down, but it can't take away my positivity, it can't take away my smile, and it can't take away my faith.  In a way cancer has given me a gift.  It has given me the gift of living, truly living.  A veil has been lifted and life means so much more than it ever did before.  How can I give into the grief I feel when time is so precious?  I won't waste it when there's so much to live for.