Word of the Year

I'm not a big fan of new year's resolutions. I've never really made them, and the few times I have, well, they didn't make it to February.

I did recently read an interesting take on the idea of New Year's changes and resolutions, but I can't remember now where (and I feel bad about that because I'd love to give credit where credit is due). 

Anyway, instead of creating specific resolutions, this person thinks in terms of more and less. What do I want more of in the upcoming year? What do I need to do to increase those things in my life? What do I want less of, and what steps can I take to make that a reality?

Now, this is kind of the opposite of the goal-mentality wherein you need to set specific, measurable goals with specific steps and timelines and all that jazz. But it's a more organic way of creating the life you want to be living, without the guilt that comes with inevitably failing at your resolutions.

As 2018 comes to an end, I'm asking myself: What do I want more of in my life for 2019?
Jesus. 

Joy.

Creativity.

What can I do to make that happen?

Devotionals and daily Bible reading plans are a good start for me. Did you know that in 2018, despite everything I had going on, I read through the whole Bible? I did a chronological reading plan, and it was very enlightening. There were times when I was behind - more than once I was 2-3 weeks behind - but I finished it right on time! I am honestly thinking of doing the same reading plan again. I know that rereading a passage of scripture (or anything, really) can provide different insights based on the context of your life when you read it, and I also think rereading it will help it to sink in even better.

As far as cultivating joy, I want more smiles and laughter and adventures in my life. I don't have a concrete plan for this, but I plan to seek out things that make me happy, more often.

Creativity... I'm doing it, here and now. I'm writing. I've also started keeping a bullet journal, although I'm not entirely sure how long I'll keep that up. Some days I love it and other days it feels burdensome. 

And on the flip side, what do I want less of in my life?

Cancer. I'm doing what I can do on that front, and it's going very well!

Fear. How can I get rid of fear, with all I'm facing? I guess that's not really feasible, but I want to keep moving forward despite the whispers of fear. 

Mosquitoes. Ha, haha. A girl can dream, right??? 

What about you, what do you want more of in your life for 2019? What do you want less of?

In some past years, I've chosen a word for the year. I've never really done much with that word; I've just sort of used it as a guide from time to time to reframe my thinking. This year, my word is Brave. I think it's fitting, with the devotional that I'm starting the year off reading. And, I think it supports all of the things on my more and less lists. I'm not brave on my own, but I can be with Jesus' strength. Being brave, stepping out of my comfort zone, leads to adventures and the space to be creative. I have to be brave as I face the rest of my treatments, and the upcoming surgeries. Bravery isn't the absence of fear, but acting out in bravery robs fear of its power over us. And, in southeast Texas, you've gotta be brave to face the mosquitoes!

Recharge

Today I got to have lunch with a sweet friend. We chatted while our kiddos climbed the McPlayLand. Tonight, my family is having an old fashioned sleepover at other friends' house, and tomorrow the kids will likely pull out every toy they own while we adults relax and catch up on each others' lives.

This Christmas season has been one of my favorites. In addition to all the joy and festivities, there have just been so many simple experiences, like today, that have just recharged me and refilled my cup.

Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor. If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.

Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

I am thankful for friends to help me up. I hope you are taking a little time as we wind down 2018 to recharge with friends and family as well!

Imperfect is Okay

Imperfect.

It's a paralyzing condition for me - I am a perfectionist, and if I am going to do A New Thing, I want it to be done just right. A new Bible study? I want to sit down with my highlighters and a nice fresh journal and really dig in. Make a new dish? I want to use all the kitchen gadgets I never use, plus make sure I've got fantastic (and new!) sides to go with.

Except... those conditions never happen. Ever. Because, well, life is busy happening. And so, more often than not, I let the fear of imperfection stop me from even starting that new thing. Or, I find myself doing the absolute bare minimum - if I can't do it just right, then I might as well not even be doing it, except I have to, so here's my half-hearted attempt so I can check it off the to do list. 

But the funny thing is, I'm imperfect. Yep, I said it, I am not perfect. It should come as no surprise to me then, that the things I do, the life I live, is also imperfect. But each time I set my sights on something, and then either quit altogether or woefully underperform because I know I cannot do it as well as I'd like so I don't even really try, I still feel defeated or guilty or less than.

This blog, for example. I started it as a way to let friends and family keep up with what's going on with my treatment. Sometimes, there's nothing going on, so I don't write for ages. Other times, my writing is free therapy (for me, not you, although I do hope someone enjoys the words on this page). But because it's not perfect - filled with engaging, daily posts with lovely photos and read by many - I sometimes feel like I shouldn't even bother with it anymore. 

Here's the thing, though. I'm enjoying this bit of creativity, however imperfect it may be. And the last Bible study I did? I enjoyed that too, despite the fact that my highlighters were completely absent for the entire 6 weeks, and some days I found myself doing several days of readings to catch up to my small group.

Life is imperfect. And that's okay, because even the imperfect things can bring us joy. 

And, just because blogs are more fun with pictures, here you go:

Further proof of my imperfection: Luke's birthday was October 26, and his party was the weekend before that. These adorable photos were taken on........ December 10. And now, I've moved the LUKE balloons to his room, amid the perfectly curated gallery of decorations on his navy accent wall, because he pointed at it very forcefully and said Blue! when I tried to hang it on the empty gray wall. And I swapped out the D for a J, and so the last three balloons in BIRTHDAY are now on Jay's wall. So now my dining room says HAPPY BIRTH. We are getting some real mileage out of these birthday decorations, because that's how things go in this imperfect house. And that's okay.

Brave

Brave is a bit of a buzzword these days. Or maybe the word is as common as it ever was, and it's just buzzing my ears more than ever. 

Last March, I attended a one-day ladies' conference at Miracle Christian Center, the church I grew up in. The theme? Brave.

In April, I'm attending a ladies' retreat with Second Baytown, the church I've been attending for a few months. The theme? Brave.

I planned to attend both of these before I ever knew the theme, and it JUST dawned on me tonight, 2 months after registering for the Second retreat, that they had/have the same theme.

See, Second's conference is 100 days away, and leading up to it we are reading the daily devotional called 100 Days to Brave. I just started it tonight, so I have no idea if it's Earth shattering or a waste of my $10 and 10 minutes a day, but at the very least, it's gotten me thinking.

What does brave mean? I tell Jay often: Brave is being a scared, but doing "it" anyway, whatever "it" may be that has you scared. 

Brave is looking ahead to where you want to be, making a commitment to get there no matter what, and then sticking to your commitment even when it gets hard. Brave is not letting the buts get in the way. "I want to do this, but I might not be any good at it. I want to go there, but I have small children. I would love to have that, but money is tight." There are always buts behind dreams; brave is pursuing those dreams anyway.

Sometimes brave means giant leaps forward. Sometimes brave means tiny baby steps, or even crawling. Sometimes brave means dusting yourself off and starting over again when you've bailed on your goals. 

So I'm asking myself tonight, what does brave look like in my life? What does it look like in yours?

Another Bell

I want to let you in on a little secret.

There is no One Bell when it comes to cancer treatment.

When I first started chemo back in June, I walked by The Bell each time I walked into the treatment facility, and each time I walked out, counting days until I could ring it. 

My dad was there with me on my last chemo day. And when I finally got to ring that bell, it was so special that we were both teary. The nurses cheered and clapped and snapped pictures, and even mailed me a certificate.

And then 3 weeks later, I had another infusion. Not chemo, of course, so it was MUCH easier to tolerate. But still, the journey didn't end with that bell.

A few weeks after that, I began daily radiation sessions, and again, I've been walking past a bell every day, counting down the days until I get to ring this bell, because, as it turns out, when you finish a phase of treatment, whatever that phase is, you get to ring the bell.

So I understand now that it's less about being finished, and more about marking off a milestone in the journey. 

And so today is another day, another Bell, another part of my journey ended so that I can keep on keepin' on.

This time, I full on cried as I read the poem. Because I DID IT. I rocked this, and it is done. Not the whole journey, mind you, but this big milestone, radiation, is FINISHED.

Hallelujah, and Merry Christmas to me!

So, you got my Christmas card, huh?

I love sending Christmas cards, and I love getting them. My favorites are the ones who send a letter telling what all is going on with them, and while I always intend to do that, I think I've managed it once. I figure since I've already got the blog going, it's easier to write here than to put it in a letter.

This has been a roller coaster of a year, for sure.  We spent the first part of the year finishing up repairs from Harvey.  Last August, our home flooded while we were in Buffalo at Mom & Dad's. The boys and I spent 4 months living with them while James oversaw repairs to make our house livable, and we moved back in last December. Even after we moved back in, there were several things we still needed to do, but we're finally done with everything! On top of that, I think I've put more effort into decorating this house, post-Harvey, than any home we've previously lived in. It feels good to feel at home.  Oh, and some of you may not know that we moved in April 2017, just four months before Harvey!

Jay turned 5 in July, and started Kindergarten in August. It was a rough start, but he's finally really enjoying it, and he's doing SO well. He goes to a private kinder at the church where he's been in preschool/mother's day out since he was 2, and has a really small class.

Luke turned 2 in October, and he's starting to say lots of words, and even putting them together. He has been a little slower to talk - probably because Jay is ALWAYS talking. (Just this week I said something to Jay about only talking when it was his turn, and not when he's not supposed to at school, and he said, But Mama, when I have something to say, I just can't hold it in!) Luke misses Jay while he's at school, but he's been spending some time at a babysitter and loves going there to play.

James celebrated 5 years with Dianal in March, and we celebrated our 8th wedding anniversary in November!

And then, there's me. In January, I found a breast lump, which was diagnosed as breast cancer in March. In April, I had a right mastectomy. At that time, we learned that it was more invasive than the March biopsy had indicated; however, it was a very treatable type (ER+/PR+/HER2+), so I'm looking at a 95% cure rate. If you're curious, I'm 33.

I had 6 rounds of chemo from June to September, which was one infusion every 3 weeks. As of this writing, I'm down to 6 more sessions of daily radiation - my last one is on the 18th! I will continue to receive an infusion every 3 weeks until next summer, but it's two medications with few side effects. Sometime next year, I'll have reconstruction, which is a two-surgery process with 3-4 months of recovery in between.

This blog arose from the need to share my journey with those who wanted to follow along, so feel free to go back through old posts where I give a lot more detail about each step of the process.

And if you didn't get a card from me, I'm sorry - I know there are some friends checking in here whose addresses I don't have! But, here are some of the pictures I included on the cards, so you don't feel too abandoned.

  

  

Radiation Update

Woops, y'all, it's been ages since I posted! Here's what's new.

Radiation is going well. I started on October 30. I drive down to an annex office right outside of the Medical Center (aka, free parking) 5 days a week, but the appointment is short. I'm usually in and out in 20 minutes, except the one day a week I have to see the doc, and then it's more like an hour or so. But, it takes about an hour driving each way. I am down to 7 more sessions - 4 boost and 3 regular, and I'm SO ready to be done. The radiation itself isn't so bad, but the driving and juggling appointments and kids and life is wearing me out. 

I'll have a total of 28 regular sessions, where they zap the entire breast/armpit/collarbone area, and then 5 boost sessions where they only zap the area around the incision. This was supposed to be sequential, but I'm having some major skin irritation under my arm, so they decided to pause the regular sessions, do the boost, and then we will go back and finish up the last of the regular sessions. The official name for this is a "sandwich boost" and it gives my skin a chance to recover. 

I also have about 47 creams I'm using. At night, I use a thick cream recommended by my plastic surgeon to coat the whole area, from my lower ribs, up over my shoulder and down my shoulder blade, and under my arm. Right after treatment, I have a thinner cream that the radiation oncologist recommended called Miaderm. Now that I'm dealing with some skin irritation, I have a prescription called Silvadine, aka, Magic Cream. After just three uses, my skin feels dramatically better. The downside is that it stains clothes... so I'm wearing James's old work shirts. (So if you see me around, he has 3-4 of the same shirt, and I'm wearing them all - not just the same one several days in a row!)

I have been really lucky to find a great babysitter in my neighborhood for Luke. He loves going to "Tessie" house (Jessica, or Jessie for short), and even packs his own backpack every day with his blankie, paci, and water, along with some random toys. He also pretends to drive to her house and tells me bye-bye, and asks to go there on days he doesn't have to. If you know Luke, you know this is HUGE because prior to the last couple months, I'd never really left him anywhere successfully except with family!

And that's the story of radiation, which is kind of all-consuming right now. I've been sick for, I dunno, about 6-7 weeks now? with a cough and runny nose. I'm finally almost over it all, thank goodness. Still a lingering cough that just doesn't want to go away, even with Mucinex. Whatever, I like sounding like a 70-year-old smoker, it's sexy.

I'm still doing my Herceptin/Perjeta infusions every 3 weeks. Sort of. I did #9 this past Monday, but I had a big delay for #8. My first and second ones after chemo ended (so, #6 & #7) were at the Baytown hospital, which should have been more convenient, but was just a big headache. I loved the nurses there, but didn't care for the doctor. See, I kept my main oncologist, Dr. Patel, but she doesn't have privileges at Baytown, so her colleague was signing my orders, and... he was not Dr. Patel. I went in 4 different times to try to receive infusion #8, and finally got it on the 4th try because she was on the phone telling him to give it to me, I think. He was delaying it because some of my blood counts were low, but these medications don't cause that, so delaying didn't do any good. So, to make a long story short, #9 was back at the Med Center (where I got all my chemo sessions) and it was nice and smooth. I'll be going there for the remainder of my sessions.

That's about all going on over here. I'm ready to finish radiation so that I can relax a bit and enjoy Christmas!

Overcoming Adversity, Part 3

I know you've been waiting on pins and needles for this, the final installment of my Overcoming Adversity talk from MOPS.

If you haven't already, stop and go read Part 1 and Part 2 before you continue. I'll wait.

Okay, here we go...

3. Focus Forward

I could spend a lot of time asking why.

Why me, Lord??? What did I do to deserve this awful diagnosis?

And on a more practical level, why me... what choices did I make with regard to my body and my health, or what have I been exposed to in my lifetime, that could have made my body turn against me like this?

But in reality, those kinds of questions aren't helpful, because the truth is, it doesn't matter why.

Let me say that again.

It
Doesn't
Matter
Why

Knowing why doesn't make me able to suddenly go back and change anything. What matters is, I am HERE, in the midst of this mess, and I don't want to stay HERE.

So instead of wasting my time asking why, and feeling sorry for myself, I choose to focus my energy and my thoughts forward. Here are some more relevant questions I ask myself:

What do I need to do TODAY to get through this? Tomorrow?
What am I going to do with myself when this is all over?
What parts of my life - the good stuff - can I hold onto right now, during the crazy, so that I don't feel robbed?
How can I use this crappy situation to lift others up, and bring glory to God?

Y'all.
Being diagnosed with bc at 33 sucks. I'm not trying to sugar coat that. But by doing these three things -
     Accepting help,
     Watching my inputs, and
     Focusing forward,
I am pretty confident that I'm in a position to walk this journey in the best way I can.

I might have been given a cactus, but I don't have to sit on it!

I will be your God throughout your lifetime, until your hair is white with age. I made you, and I will care for you. I will carry you along and I will save you!

Isaiah 46:4

So, my current status: I finally got my infusion on Friday (attempt #4). My white counts are back up where they need to be, but my platelets are even lower. Off to the hematologist I go on Tuesday, to try and find a cause and/or a solution for this. 

In case you're wondering, platelets are what makes your blood clot, so that you don't bleed out over a minor cut. Mine aren't dangerously low, so I'm not super concerned, but they're trending downward so we've got to reverse that trend before they get too low.

I'm feeling great overall - I'm just about over a bad cold, and the infusion wasn't bad. Radiation is going well - I actually look forward to it because they have a jigsaw puzzle in the waiting room, and I love puzzles!

Overcoming Adversity, Part 2

As promised, here's part 2 of my Overcoming Adversity chat from MOPS. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go back and read Part 1.

2.  Watch your inputs.

I truly believe that whatever you put into yourself, whatever you fill yourself up with, is what is going to come out of you.

Think of a sponge. You put a sponge in plain water and then squeeze, clean water is coming out. You soak a sponge in soapy water, and you're going to get soapy water when you squeeze it. And if you follow that soapy water with a quick dunk in some clean water, and squeeze it again? You're still going to get soapy water.

So for me, that means being pretty strict about what shows I watch, what music I listen to, what I read on Facebook. I'm not saying I only watch G-rated movies. Well, mostly I do, because of the boys. What I'm saying is, you will not catch me watching something that's going to make me cry, even if it's "a good cry" moment at the end of a chick flick, because I've found that that just brings me down too much. There's no This Is Us on my DVR. I'm very diligent about the content I consume on Facebook and just online in general. The "hide post" button is my friend.

Life is too precious to be clouded by sadness, bitterness, anger, and all that other nasty stuff that doesn't even pertain to me, so I filter it out.

Some of my favorite scriptures that I've been leaning on:

Great is our Lord, and abundant in power. His understanding is beyond measure.  Psalm 147:5

Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. 

Ephesians 3:20

I am the Lord, the God of all mankind. Is anything too hard for me? 

Jeremiah 32:27

If you're wondering what's going on with my treatment.... I'm 6 days into radiation, and it's going great. No side effects to speak of, hallelujah. And they have a jigsaw puzzle in the waiting room, which I'm really loving, even if I only get a minute or two to play some days!

My blood work is still a little off, and the doctor I've been seeing is STILL delaying my infusion because of that, which is frustrating. If he delays again, I'm going back to my normal doctor at the medical center. She's not sure why he's delaying it, since these meds don't impact the bloodwork and it's just leftovers from chemo.

Also, I have a cold, and it's the pits, but hopefully I'm on the mend!

I promise to share Part 3 sooner than I got around to posting Part 2... Honestly? I forgot to hit post, woops!

There's Always Something...

Well, I was all set to publish Part 2 of my MOPS talk today, but something came up. There's always something, right?

So yesterday, I was scheduled to receive my Herceptin/Perjeta infusion (second try for this round), but my blood work still wasn't right, so we had to delay it again. The plan is to try again Monday.

I have questions outstanding to my primary oncologist, but that's neither here nor there.

I was SO frustrated when the doctor told me we had to postpone AGAIN. He walked away and, to quote my friend Mrs. Billie, my eyes leaked a bit. Cancer is just so freaking inconvenient, amiright? It just gets in the way of everything.

So, I'm leaving the hospital after my non-infusion. A nice lady asked me which floor I needed on the elevator. Then she asked me how my day was going. I briefly considered complaining, but just said it was alright and asked how hers was. I'll admit, I had kind of a "woe is me" tone to my voice, but I didn't say anything else. 

She reflexively answered that it was fine, or some other semi-positive, non-thinking response we give strangers by default.

Then: My husband is in ICU.

Oh, I'm so sorry, I told her.

She continued: But they took the breathing tube out. He's breathing on his own now.

That's wonderful news, I told her. That's an improvement, a big step!

But there was more to the story: He tried to commit suicide, she continued.

I was absolutely floored. I told her I was so sorry. 

It happens, she said.

As if it was a frequent occurrence.

A non-event.

Forgetting your lunch at home, happens.

Getting a flat tire, happens.

Being late to the dentist, happens.

But your husband attempting suicide? It doesn't just happen.

Except, for her, it happens. I don't know if it has happened before, or if it will happen again. But my goodness, my heart just broke for her. I had no words, and I awkwardly hugged her.

And I realized, more completely than possibly ever before, that there's always, always, always something to be thankful for.

My family is healthy and happy. I am winning this battle, navigating this inconvenient detour in the middle of my own happy, healthy life. I am loved and supported by SO many. My daily needs are met. I could go on and on. There is so so much to be thankful for.

And you know what?

She might have found something to be thankful for as well. "My husband is going to be alright," she might be thinking. "It could be worse: we could be facing cancer, like that poor lady on the elevator."

You never really know what roads others are traveling. And you never know if your road looks better, or worse, than theirs.

But regardless of what road you're on, or where you're at on that road, there is always, always, always something to be thankful for.

Choose to see those things today.

Overcoming Adversity, Part 1

A few weeks ago, I was invited to be a part of a panel of ladies speaking on the topic of Overcoming Adversity at our local MOPS meeting.

If you aren't familiar with MOPS, it's Mothers of Preschoolers, and it's a Christian moms' group where we get together, eat yummy food, hear some uplifting words, maybe do a little craft or service project, and just spend time pouring into each other, and remembering that we don't have to walk this phase of life alone. It's a great group, and I've had the privilege of being a part of this group for five years now, so I was very honored to be asked to speak.

When I received the request, I was elated, and immediately responded that I'd love to speak. Within minutes, I knew exactly what I was going to say, because God is cool like that. Y'all, I'm not a person who enjoys speaking in front of more than about 3 people, and we're talking about 75 ladies. But even so, I was SO excited for the entire month or so between being asked and getting to speak.

I thought it'd be nice to share with you the words I spoke to the mamas at our meeting, because I feel like they were God-given, and they're relevant to you even if you're not fighting the same fight as me. 

So many friends tell me that I'm an inspiration, or they admire my cheerful outlook through my journey. I can be cliche, and tell you that "God is carrying me through." That is so very true, but it's not really the most helpful thing to say, because in reality, it's kind of hard to "just stay focused on God" when your world is turned upside down by an unexpected diagnosis and you suddenly find yourself incapable of living your life in the same way as before.

So instead, I'm going to give you three concrete steps that I have found to be helpful for me. They are:

1. Accept help
2. Watch your inputs
3. Focus forward

I think these are valid things to do when life is chugging merrily along, but when life hits you with the hard stuff, these things become vital to survive. One of my favorite verses that I've leaned on through all of this is about getting into position, and I think these three things put me in the best position for winning this fight.

In 2 Chronicles 20, King Jehoshaphat was surrounded by three different enemies, and facing an unwinnable battle. He called on God's people to pray and fast in preparation for the upcoming fight, and after three days, the prophet said to him:

But you will not even need to fight. Take your positions; then stand still and watch the Lord's victory. He is with you... Do not be afraid or discouraged. Go out against the enemy, for the Lord is with you!

2 Chronicles 20:17

A little disclaimer: I definitely have my down days. Days when I cry, and wallow in my emotions, throw a full on pity party, and just generally feel like I can't fight this fight. But by and large, these are the things I try to do as much as possible to get through this battle.

1. Accept help.

When friends hear that you're going through something, they want to fix it. And sadly, they can't. The next best thing, though, is if they can help make your problem suck a little less.

Think of it this way: when you are the giver of help, whether it's holding the door for a disabled person, or bringing a meal to someone after surgery, how do you feel? Good, right? So when you're the one going through a trial, and you tell your friends no, you don't need anything but thanks for asking, you're robbing them of that feel-good feeling.

There are certain things that only YOU are able to do when you're going through a trial. For me, that's showing up for chemo. For doctor's appointments. For radiation. It's taking care of myself, resting when my body says No More! Taking medicine that helps one thing, but causes it's own issue. I am the only one who can do those things. 

But, like it or not, there are things that are normally a part of my wheelhouse that I can let go of. I am not the only one who can feed my family. Load the dishwasher. Do the laundry. Rock my baby to sleep. I may feel, in my heart of hearts, that I do those things best, because I'm Mama. I know the best way to put the plates in the dishwasher so they get clean and the whole sink full of dishes fits. But, can someone else take over those tasks for a little while, without my interference, and everyone survive? Absolutely. It's okay if the towels are folded differently than I prefer, honest.

So don't be too prideful to accept help when it's offered. And if it's not offered? Speak up about needing a hand. And while you're at it, tell people what is actually helpful for you. People love helping, truly, so give them the opportunity to help you, so that you can focus on what you need to do to get through the battle.

And, because I'm just a little bit mean, you're going to have to come back another day to find out what else I had to say to the lovely MOPS mamas!

Treatment Update

Sorry, it's been a while since I've updated... but I've been feeling great so I  just haven't sat down to write!

I'm back to feeling like a normal human being, now that I'm done with chemo. For some reason, all of my muscles are very sore all the time, like I've just done a hardcore workout, but I haven't. But other than that and no hair, chemo is quickly fading into a distant memory. And my hair is starting to grow back - it never completely fell out, but I've got a 5 o'clock shadow going on where a bunch of new hair is sprouting!

I'm still receiving infusions every 3 weeks, but they're much easier, for 2 reasons. 

1. I'm receiving them at the hospital in Baytown, rather than having to drive into Houston to the medical center. That means less time, and free parking, woohoo! It also means I'm seeing another doctor - Dr. Patel is still coordinating my care, but she doesn't have rights at this hospital yet, so I'm seeing her colleague. He's nice enough. I do still see her occasionally though.

2. The meds I'm receiving are much easier to tolerate. Before, I was receiving 4 drugs, and now I'm just getting 2 of those. So, my body is used to them. Both of them are smart therapies, meaning they target and block the HER2 receptors. I learned last week that the only normal cells in the body with these receptors are breast, heart, and gut cells. So, the main two side effects are digestive woes, which have been MUCH easier to manage than with all 4 meds, and a low risk of a heart issue. That means, I'm getting an echo every 3 months to check my heart valve/pumping function. If they see that there's a problem, then I just take a break from the meds and it will go back to normal, and then I can resume the meds.

I'll be starting radiation next week, and honestly, I'm just ready. Ready to get started so I can get it over with. I'm most concerned about the logistics of driving into Houston every single day. The appointments should be quick - less than 30 minutes - and I'll receive my treatment at a facility that has free parking, so that's nice. I've got a sweet babysitter in my neighborhood that Luke is warming up to visiting, plus a couple of friends who have offered their help as backup sitters.

So, that's what's going on with me right now.

What's Next?

So, it's been nearly 3 weeks since my last chemo infusion (and my last post), and the question I get asked most is: "What's next for you?" So... Here's the scoop.

Maintenance Infusions

I'll continue receiving infusions every 3 weeks, for the remainder of a year. But, they'll be much easier to tolerate.

Up to now, I was receiving 4 meds at each infusion: 2 chemo drugs, and 2 smart drugs. I'll continue receiving just the smart drugs for the remainder of a year. 

All cells, or maybe just all breast cells, have a certain receptor on them called HER2 Receptor. This attracts a protein, also called HER2, which tells the call to divide. Normal cells have 2 or so receptors, but HER2++ c cells have a lot of them, so they attract a lot of the protein, and divide much more rapidly. This makes this type of c more aggressive, but doctors are really smart, and they have medications that block these receptors, essentially turning off the division mechanism. So, if the cells can't divide, the c can't continue to grow and spread. Yay!

Plus, since these meds are so smart, they don't have nearly the amount of side effects that chemo meds have, because they're targeting only the c cells, rather than all fast-growing cells. I'm told I can expect some tummy troubles, but nothing like I've been experiencing. Double yay!

Radiation

Another thing coming up is radiation. I've already met the radiation oncologist, and I'm waiting on insurance to approve my treatment so I can get it scheduled, which should happen maybe this coming week.

The first step in that process (well, second, after my initial consult last week), is a planning appointment. This involves using a CT scan to map out my body and the zones they want to target, plus the nearby organs they want to miss. Then about a week later, I will start receiving the radiation. I'll have 6 weeks of 5 sessions per week. 

They target the entire breast area (because a mastectomy cannot remove 100% of the breast tissue), the armpit (because of that one pesky lymph node) plus another small area nearby that "c likes to go to next if it's going somewhere else."

Side effects should be minimal: 

-Redness that looks like a sunburn, but doesn't hurt.

-Potential skin breakdown, since the skin nearest the incision is very thin and new. If this happens, and I think it's rare, I think we just take a couple days off and be more aggressive with what cream I need to use on the area.

-Some fatigue, more toward the end, but nothing like chemo fatigue.

Some questions I've gotten (or had myself) about radiation:

Q: Is radiation necessary? 

A: It's necessary because with lymph+, hormone+, HER2++ c, the standard of care is surgery, chemo, radiation, hormone therapy. It is a proven treatment, not experimental. 

Q: Do they do a scan of some sort first to see exactly what we are radiating, if there's still c there, etc?

A: The areas areas I talked about above are the standard places to radiate in cases like mine, so they don't need to do a "look for more c" type of scan first.

Q: Is radiation dangerous to other organs, like your lungs?

A: That's what the CT scan is for. It allows them to minimize the radiation to other areas. For example, only 2-3% of the lung, right on the edge, will receive any radiation at all. None will hit my heart, esophagus, or any other important stuff in that area.

Q: How does radiation work, and what's the difference between chemo and radiation?

A: Chemo is medicine that I received by infusion. Picture an IV bag, but instead of a regular needle, it goes into the port in my chest, near my collar bone. (If you ever wanna see it, I can show you. It's not gruesome.) 

Radiation, on the other hand, is like... Laser beams, I guess. They aim the machine at the targeted areas and blast it. It does two things, and I can't take credit for this analogy - it's courtesy of the Radiation PA, who was great at explaining things. So, radiation kills any "seeds" that might be trying to take root in that area. It also changes the environment, making it inhospitable to growing anything new. So kind of like the opposite of fertilizing a garden.

Hormone Therapy

This is a pill for 5 years,  suppresses estrogen and progestin, and that's about all I know about that. I think I start it after I finish the smart drugs, so next summer.

Reconstruction Surgeries

About 6 months after radiation, I'll have my first reconstruction surgery. This involves taking a section of abdominal tissue (think: tummy tuck), and using that to construct a new breast. The procedure is called DIEP Flap Reconstruction, if you care to google, but I probably wouldn't do a lot of googling if I were you. Recovery is about 3 months. 

Then, we will talk about phase two surgery, which will be for symmetry (think: boob job, ha). The recovery for that one is much easier, more like 4-6 weeks or so I think.

Ok, that got really long. If you have more questions about what's next, please ask - I don't mind sharing details!

In the meantime, I may not be posting a whole lot because I'M BUSY FEELING LIKE A PERSON AGAIN!! 

I Rang the Bell!

Today was my final chemo infusion! I still have, I dunno, maybe a year left on my journey to getting fully finished and back to normal life, but chemo is the worst of the process, I think.

A big celebration at infusion centers is to ring a bell, surrounded by nurses and staff cheering for you. It was surreal and magical and a great way to close this chapter.

Beside the Bell is this poem, which I read before ringing.

Ring this bell

Three times well

Its toll to clearly say,

My treatment's done

This course is run

And I am on my way!

I got a little teary halfway through. Dad got a lot teary, but I'm so glad he was here with me!

Here are a few pictures of the day:

 Six treatments, in the books!

Getting ready to ring.

I also got a certificate that says I completed my chemo treatment.

Hugs from Dad, who has always been my biggest cheerleader.

I know I already said so on Facebook, but I couldn't have gotten here without my friends and family giving me SO much help and kindness and support!

A merry heart...

A merry heart does good like a medicine, but a broken spirit dries the bones.

That is one of the earliest memory verses I can recall memorizing. There was a song we sang... A merry hea-a-art, does good like a meeee-dicine, and like a meeee-dicine, is a merry heart! 

Anyway. I'm feeling great this week, so my heart is pretty merry. It's funny how I can let my physical feelings dictate my emotional state, when really, I need to make it the other way around. But that's a post for another day.

Today, I wanted to brag - I got the results from last week's echo, and it's filled with a bunch of medical hubbub, but one word is repeated over and over with respect to each thingamajig they examined on my heart: NORMAL. I'm no medical expert, but I know that normal heart function is what we are going for, so, HOORAY!

I'm getting ready for my last chemo treatment Monday, and honestly, I'm dreading it - round 5 was the worst as far as how bad I felt and how long I felt bad, so I'm not ready to sink down to that low again... But, it's the last one, so, HOORAY again!! I think you can do just about anything when you know there's an end to it.

And to celebrate, we are going on a little vacation. Some dear friends have family connections to a pair of cabins on a small private lake near Broken Bow, OK. They've invited us and another couple, along with all the kiddos, for a long weekend at the end of this month, and we are all super excited. It's been quite a while since we've all gotten together, and it'll be great to just unplug and relax for the weekend with good friends!

Five down, one to go!

Today was chemo day 5! One left, y'all, woohoo!

I'm currently holding down the couch, after some delicious pizza a friend brought over. It's so nice when food tastes good, and makes me dread the period when everything is just kinda icky. Except for sweets, they're usually reliably edible, ha!

So anyway. Today I learned:

I'll have an echo to check on my heart every 3 months for the remainder of a year, because the two smart drugs, Herceptin and Perjeta, can mess with the pumping functionality of your heart. So I had one before I started, and I'll have one next week, and then continue on a 3 month schedule. This "damage" if there is any, wouldn't be permanent - take a break from the meds and the heart goes back to normal and then you can start again. But I'm believing God that my heart will be pumping perfectly at each and every checkup!

The Physical Therapist came while I was getting my infusions. She did some measurements for a baseline, and checked my range of motion (which is limited and pain shoots down my arm when I reach up for things). Then she gave me some stretches to do to help. She also identified that I have some scar tissue that creates a sort of band from my armpit down my arm. This is what is causing the pain. So, I'll put a hot pack on and then massage it every day, followed by the aforementioned stretches, and that should help considerably. I also have a full PT appointment next week, and I'm assuming they'll walk me through actually doing some stretches.

Oh, and maybe TMI, a (negative) pregnancy test. Just a standard thing, not that it was suspected, but it's super important to not expand the family because the chemo is pretty terrible for babies. And, the hormone changes from a pregnancy would be pretty bad for me, too... So, the Rendon family is complete, y'all. I mean, it was anyway, because God gave me two hands and two boys and I don't believe in coincidences. But definitely for sure complete now, because more babies just wouldn't be safe. In case you were wondering, ha.

Um... I think that's all that was new today. I had my favorite nurse so far - he was chatty and funny and made the day really pleasant. All my nurses have been nice, but he was the best so far :)

Chemo is funny.

They tell you ahead of time that things will taste funny. Maybe metallic.

Funny and metallic are still edible flavors. Maybe not pleasant, but edible.

This "flavor" is, to be polite, not edible. It's kind of bitter. Kind of rotten. Makes your mouth pucker - which metal does also, so maybe that's why they say that?

Anyway, this is not a complaining post, honest. I just got sidetracked.

All that to say, it's often very hard to find something edible, because one bite will be good, and the very next bite is bad, so it makes you a little nervous for each bite. That means I get a little adventurous sometimes, or it means I eat the same thing over and over again even if it's not the best choice. 

One such "reliable" option is a Hot N Spicy McChicken Sandwich from McDonald's. The funny thing about my tastes, though, is that they aren't always the same as you expect. See, the Hot N Spicy is this little chicken patty sandwich that's kind of spicy, but nothing to write home about, and then I get it plain and dry with a slice of cheese.

Except... The chemo turns  that "slightly spicy" into an inferno. 

We are talking, two glasses of water to get through the sandwich. One tiny bite of sandwich, french fry french fry french fry, breathe some fire, chug some water, repeat.

And the funniest part? 

It's so spicy, it makes my ears burn.

I'm not even kidding you, I feel like those cartoons where the steam comes out of their ears. Its like they're ringing, but you can't hear anything. And drinking water doesn't solve burning in the ears, just so you know.

It's not terribly unpleasant, but it is certainly strange!

And sadly, there are still some bites that have that chemo taste. But mostly, I can't taste anything because of the burn, so I can eat the whole meal, and that's a win!

(Nevermind the reflux that rears its head a little later... But like I said, this isn't supposed to be a complaining post!)

I write. Sometimes.

Mostly I write to cope. I've been coping well, so not much to write. I also have a lot to say at bedtime, but I don't let myself write then because sleep is one of God's greatest gifts. Am I right, Mamas?

Anyway.

I'm writing today... To cope. Usually I don't get bogged down in the why's, and the how am I gonna do this, and I try super de duper hard to just look forward and onward and upward, because, to paraphrase someone who knows me well, I am optimistic as &+#*, right?

So... In an effort to regain my optimism this morning, I turned on my YouTube playlist called Songs of Truth, which has exactly two songs, because I have great intentions and less than stellar follow through.

Song number one - Reckless Love. If you haven't heard it, you must listen at least 6 times on repeat, then come back and continue reading.

There's no Shadow you won't light up

Mountain you won't climb up

Coming after me

There's no wall you won't tear down 

 Lie you won't tear down

Coming after me

Whoa. I love this song, mainly because each time I hear it, I focus in on a different part (hence my requirement for you to go listen 6 times before reading this).

Today...

There are a lot of lies that need tearing down for me. Lies that I try oh so hard not to listen to, but they're whispering to me anyway. 

I'm not going to tell you the lies humming around in my head, because I don't want to give them any more power than they already want, but I'm going to share the sweet sweet words that God gives me to tear those lies down.

I am not alone.

I am strong enough with his help.

None of this is a surprise to God.

I can do this.

I am worth this fight.

God gives good gifts.

Y'all. C sucks. Chemo sucks. It takes more from me than I want to admit. Dignity. Energy. Experiences. Strength.

But oh my. There is no Shadow of sadness or despair that God won't light up. Chemo is not a mountain too high for him to climb and reach me. There are no walls strong enough to keep him from me and there are certainly no lies big enough to make me believe them long enough to keep my God from me.

Why?

Because, HE IS COMING AFTER ME. 

Like, he's right behind me, gently ushering me through the door with a gentle hand on my back.

Or he's boosting me up onto a saddle I'm not tall enough to reach.

Or when I'm in despair and I'm hiding in my feelings and under the covers and just feel like I can't, he's running after me, coming after me, to lift me up and dispell the lies and shadows that try so dang hard to sneak in and find a foothold.

Not today, Satan, not today chemo, not today c.

My God gives good gifts.

But you will not even need to fight. Take your positions; then stand still and watch the LORD's victory. He is with you, O people of Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid or discouraged. Go out against them tomorrow, for the LORD is with you!

2 Chronicles 20:17

PS, I've received 4 treatments, and I'm wallowing in the worst couple of days of this cycle and then should start to feel better any minute now. Then, a couple of good weeks and only 2 more cycles to go!!

And another PS... That verse says don't be discouraged. So I wanted to make sure I wasn't being discouraged, and see what I should be instead. This is gooooood.

Chemo #3 - some perks!

Well, I forgot to take a pic, but today was infusion #3 - I'm sort of halfway there! I say sort of, because I still have to get through the side effects, which are much worse than infusion day but not as bad as I expected, by a long shot.

The worst part of infusion day? I have this stick on injector that counts 27 hours and delivers a white blood cell boosting medication. It's called Neulasta, if you're curious. They stick it on me belly, it beeps for 30 seconds, then has 10 tiny clicks, and then BAM  it pokes me with a tiny needle but makes me jump out of my chair. It doesn't hurt, really, but it scares me every time!!! Whoever is with me gets a pretty good laugh.

I met with my oncologist today, and I asked her: "So how do we know this treatment is working?" And here's what she said:

Well, we just know that it works. Because your case is Her2+, it is exquisitely responsive to the treatments we are doing. Then, the chemo is attacking any cells in the body that are rapidly dividing, which will take care of any straggler c cells. And finally, the radiation will get any c that might be hiding out around the breast and armpit area. So your risk of recurrence is very very very low. And, they did some studies about women coming back often for scans to look for recurrence. While those recurrences were found earlier, there was no difference in the lifespan off those women vs ones who just came back when they had symptoms. But, the women who did not receive periodic scans we're overall much happier because they felt that they could close the chapter on c and move on with living their lives.

That, friends, was so encouraging to me! And for those who might be worrying about me, I hope you stop because God's got this, and I hope this report brings you comfort as well.

And now, on to some lighter things! I'd like to present to you, a list of the Top Six Perks of Chemotherapy.

1. It's much faster for me to get ready to go somewhere, because I don't have to fix my hair! (Except here lately, I've been playing with makeup because I got a whole bag of goodies from a c survivor skincare seminar - say that 5 times fast!)

2. Mosquitoes don't bite me - apparently I stink to them or something, because I normally get eaten up and I haven't had the first bite. 

3. Showers are faster because I don't have to shave my legs nearly as often! 

4. I haven't been nauseated at all. Not really a perk compared to normal life, but something I was really really worried about coming into treatment, so it's been a big relief.

5. Maybe a little TMI but the ladies will appreciate this... No monthly hassles!

6. The food. So many people have brought us really yummy stuff, or ordered takeout/delivery for us, and it's been a huge blessing. There have been a few times where my stomach or tastes have been wonky and I had to freeze the leftovers for a few days til things got back to normal, but overall, YUMMMM and thank you!!

Life is good, y'all. Even when it's hard, or different than planned, life is good. 

Jesus is Calling... Am I Answering?

A dear friend sent me a care package, and it included the Jesus Calling devotional and a few other goodies.

Actually, several sweet friends have sent lots of goodies and cards and food and and and... I'm terribly behind on thank you notes. (Miss Morris, I see you hanging your head in shame!) But, I so appreciate all of the kindness you have all shown me.

So, back to this devotional... 

"Recall that I am able to do immeasurably more than all you ask or imagine. Instead of trying to direct Me to do this and that, seek to attune yourself to what I am already doing."

Whoa. I mean, sure, we all know that God isn't at our beck and call, but how often are our prayers, or at least mine, 

     Please Lord help me do this.

          Please Lord provide that. 

               Please Lord give me give me give me. 

Or when I'm especially spiritual, it's

     Thank you Lord for helping me do this (task I'm about to do).

          Thank you Lord for providing that (thing which I need but haven't received yet).

              

But when do I ever actually attune myself to what he's already done? I feel like "attune" implies "change my attitude/actions to match" and honestly, that's not very easy.

It's downright hard. 

But aren't we called to do hard things?

Aren't we fully equipped to do hard things, when we listen to His words of encouragement?

Truly, He can do more than I can ask or think, and that includes helping me attune myself to what He's already done.

In case you're wondering, Round Two was much easier than the first - it was really only about 6 days of feeling really run down. Some of the other symptoms lasted longer than that, but I managed them much better this time and they slowed me down but didn't totally derail me from normal activities. I'm geared up and ready for Round Three's infusion on Monday! James is off work to take me that day, and I'm planning to FINALLY finish sewing Luke's stocking... that I started when he was born, ha!

Down Days and Super Heroes

Wanna know a secret?  

I have down days.

If you see me today, I'll probably still be smiling... but I was awake a good chunk of the night, achy and feeling sorry for myself, and still couldn't quite shake it off this morning when I woke up. And I don't even feel "that bad" today, so really, there's no reason for the funk...

Except that I'm human. I'm a person, and not a super hero, so I can't actually fight this fight every single day and win. Some days, I just don't feel like showing up to the fight, and I just want to hide. Or cry. Or both, maybe.

But... this morning, I got up and took Jay to Vacation Bible School at Memorial Baptist Church. Before this week, we've never set foot in there, although I've driven by a few times. It's a beautiful, sprawling red brick church with a big white steeple that chimes (which Jay loves hearing when I pick him up at noon), and it's filled with lots and lots of excited kids and shuffling parents and smiling volunteers this week. 

Tuesday was Jay's first day, and although we'd talked about it and he'd been excited, he told me he didn't want to go. I was firm and insisted, and told him if he didn't like it, he didn't have to return on Wednesday. The first whispered words out of his mouth when I picked him up? "I loved it and I want to come back tomorrow!"

Each day has a different theme. Today's was super heroes, and when I picked him up, Jay informed me that Jesus is the best super hero there is: "I learned that today at vacation bible school!" he proudly reported. Kid, you're onto something. A super hero's job is to swoop in and save the day when the regular people have done all they can do, and just can't find a way to win the battle.

So today, I'm just a regular person, doing all I can do, and yet still struggling and feeling more a failure than a success... and, oh hey, there's Jesus, swooping in. Here, right by me, to uphold me through this battle, this journey that is gonna take a while. 

I'm not talking about the metaphorical "Jesus is everywhere" talk - although, I do believe that Jesus is, in fact, with me always, because the Bible says so. 

But right now, I mean in a more concrete sense. Jesus's words are in me, and when I'm feeling low, He touches a friend and hints that maybe they should reach out to me, right in that moment that I'm feeling a little damp-eyed, and remind me of the truth that regardless of what is going on and how I'm feeling, there is always always always something to be thankful for, and when I choose to focus on that bit of goodness, even if it's tiny, that small-but-bright feeling of hope and grace will sneak in and light up my soul, little by little, and help me pull through today's dark patch. 

That, friends, is Jesus, being a super hero. Working through regular people, to reach me right when I need it. God is good, y'all, and I can't do this on my own. Thanks for being a part of my journey, for lifting me up when I just can't.

I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken!

Psalm 16:8

Bye Bye, Blue!

They said it would happen. 

Dr. Patel said I could expect my hair to start falling out between two and three weeks after my first infusion.

She was correct. Over the last couple of days, it was coming out way faster than normal, and speeding up, so I shaved it (also at doc's recommendation).

Before treatment started, I felt like it wouldn't be that big of a deal. I figured I'd just have a bald head, or wear a scarf, and it wouldn't really impact me much.

And then I started treatment, and after a couple of days, my hair started to HURT. Anytime my hair moved, it hurt. And hair moves a lot.

After that, it started to itch. And also, I broke out with an awesome rash from one of the medications that looked remarkably like horrible teenager acne - face, chest, and yep, my scalp. And that hurt, too.

So I thought many times over the last couple of days about shaving it because of those things, but of course part of me was holding onto the "maybe she's wrong" line of thinking. But, it definitely made me less attached to it.

Until it actually started to fall out quickly a couple of days ago... And then I thought, I'm not sure I can handle this. Monday night, I scheduled the appointment for today (Wednesday) and lost sleep over it for two nights. This morning, on the way to the salon, I thought I might puke. I even skipped mascara because I totally expected to lose it and bawl during the shaving part.

And then a funny thing happened.

It wasn't a big deal. 

I mean, it wasn't my favorite haircut I've ever gotten, but I didn't cry, and I am not as upset over it as I thought I might be the last couple of days.

Luke isn't a big fan. Jay was absent-mindedly petting my head while talking to me earlier, so I guess he's alright with it. Crispin was looking at me like I'm crazy - he convinced Mom to pick him up and let him smell my head, then he licked my ear and he's been fine since then.

So anyway, that's what's new with me. I'm feeling fine now, and have been since about the middle of last week, so it seems like about a week and a half of feeling crummy and then things get back to normal.

Round 2 is Monday. Specific prayer request: for normal results on some liver enzymes that were elevated last time. They need to stay the same, or preferably go back down to normal, so that we don't have to delay Round 2.

Excuse me, have you seen my pillow?

Hey! This isn't life-alteringly terrible like I anticipated. It's not peaches and rainbows, but I haven't thrown up (or even felt nauseated) so I'm calling that a huge win.

Naps, on the other hand, are my friend. More like, my long lost soul sister that I crave more and more time with each time I have one, ha. I've never really been good at snoozing on the couch with other stuff going on around me, but I'm quickly perfecting that skill. I can integrate the kids' game and a TV show and James & mom's conversation about how hard I'm sleeping into one cohesive dream that I'm aware I'm having and tell myself I should wake up... but still not actually be able to get up for a few more minutes.

I also fantasize often these days. When I'm walking (which I'm 6 days for 6!), I imagine whether that grass right there is as soft as it looks and if I should sit there for a moment. In the evenings I contemplated just how cloud-like my pillows and blankets will feel when I crawl into bed. When I finish eating, I remember vividly how comfortable the couch is.

6 days down, 120 to go. 

Quick Update - So Far, So Good!

So it turns out, it wasn't just nerves keeping me up Sunday night. I take a steroid for 3 days (S-M-T) at the beginning of each cycle, and goodbye, Sleepy Town! 

I was up this morning about 5 am, and if you know me at all, you know that is NOT MY STYLE! But, I felt great so I got up and enjoyed the time. I snacked, took the precautionary anti nausea meds, read my Bible, walked around the pond twice, and got back right as everyone was waking up. I made some yummy scrambled eggs with chopped up salami and bell peppers, and they were delicious.

I truly felt great today. I made sure to take it easy, and I did nap this afternoon, but it wasn't major exhaustion, just more like, Oh, I probably won't sleep tonight since I'm still taking the steroid, so let's snooze a while. And it was pretty lovely, I gotta say.

I was able to eat well today, and things tasted great, and no nausea, praise the good sweet Lord!

I got my neulasta booster injection this evening, and besides the beeping and annoyance of a LOT of sticky residue, it was totally no big deal. A semi-common side effect is flu-like body aches, but I've got preventive meds for that, so I'm praying it's not an issue for me.

Oh, the worst part of the day... Our water company is on day 2 of a boil water notice. Tomorrow they're going to be working on the lines from 8-5 and we may lose water completely, and will still be on boil water notice when they're done until they can test it. So that's real cool of them, since you know, chemo lowers your immune system function. But, we are being diligent with the boiling and bottled water, so it shouldn't be more than an inconvenience.

I had some pretty important thoughts this morning during all the quiet time, and I want to share, but I'm still working on getting the thoughts into cohesive words. Just, man, to summarize... I have so much peace right now, and it has nothing to do with me or my actions or even what the doctors say, and everything to do with the truth I know deep inside. More on that, soon, I promise.

Thanks for all the kindness, y'all. Sweet words, texts checking on me, cards and goodies in the mail, groceries and dinner brought by... God is using your kindness to build me up, please know that. 

Confidence

Confidence

Sanctus Real

I’m not a warrior

I’m too afraid to lose

I feel unqualified for what you’re calling me to

But Lord with your strength

I’ve got no excuse

'Cause broken people are exactly who you use

So give me faith like Daniel in the lion’s den

Give me hope like Moses in the wilderness

Give me a heart like David, Lord be my defense

So I can face my giants with confidence

You took a shepherd boy

And made him a King

So I’m gonna trust you and give you everything

I’ll be a conquerer

'Cause you fight for me

I’ll be a champion claiming your victory

So give me faith like Daniel in the lion’s den

Give me hope like Moses in the wilderness

Give me a heart like David, Lord be my defense

So I can face my giants with confidence

I’m gonna sing and shout and shake the walls

I won’t stop until I see 'em fall

Gonna stand up, step out when you call

Jesus, Jesus

I’m gonna sing and shout and shake the walls

I won’t stop until I see 'em fall

Gonna stand up, step out when you call

Jesus

So give me faith like Daniel in the lion’s den

Give me hope like Moses in the wilderness

Give me a heart like David, Lord be my defense

So I can face my giants with confidence, yeah

Give me faith like Daniel in the lion’s den

Give me hope like Moses in the wilderness

Give me a heart like David, Lord be my defense

So I can face my giants with confidence

I'll face my giants with confidence

Songwriters: Matthew Ross Armstrong / Jordan Michael Bailey / Tony W. Wood

Confidence lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group

This song came on my Pandora playlist while I was walking this evening, and holy wow, it spoke to me. I don't have adequate words to say about it besides wow, but I had to share.

Today went really smoothly. I started the day with blood work - they calculate dosage for each medication based on your kidney function, for every round. After the labs came back, they gave me some pre-meds for nausea and to prevent allergic reactions. Then, we did the two biotherapies (Herceptin and Perjeta) followed by the two chemotherapies (Taxotere and Carboplatin). H was 90 minutes, and the rest were 60 minutes. In between each, they flushed the lines, so that added a few minutes. Overall, it was an 8-4:30 day. But, I had a nice bright room!

James went with me. We watched some TV, and then played a fun card game called Odin's Race. He won one and then we tied one, and then it was time to go home!

I was so nervous last night I could barely sleep. But today was really easy. Honestly, the worst part was removing the bandage over my port at the end! 

I came home, ate a delicious dinner, relaxed a bit, then walked a mile - which is quite a feat since I've been really sedentary since surgery. It was very slow, but I still managed it! They told me today that walking every single day, at least 30 minutes, is vital - it helps the meds work, helps my body's healthy cells recover, helps alleviate side effects, helps my mental state... So, walk I will!

Days 2-4 have the potential to be the roughest in terms of side effects, but Dr. Patel has said over and over that this combo of drugs is predictable and manageable, so that is what I am praying - join me!

Chemo Day 1 down, 5 more to go! 

After today, I feel like I've totally got this under control. If my attitude changes, won't you please remind me of that feeling and lift me up again? Your kindness really does make a difference to me!