New things?

Posted on June 27, 2022 by Margaret

This has been the adventure of a lifetime for me with a series of “firsts” like almost never before. I think, in our lives, we gravitate toward as few of those as possible the older we get. We do have our bucket lists, but more to do with having fun. I want to see the Great Wall of China, go skydiving, raise a family, learn a language or take a kickboxing class-you might have one or two NEW things you want to do before you quit this earth.

But mostly we like to be familiar with the day-to-day of our lives. The less unknowns the better. But at other times, things are done TO us or FORCED on us out of the necessity to survive. These are not always fun “Firsts”, but we do them for the greater good.
Most of the time, I’m scrambling to find something to keep normal amidst all the change. If I was asked to give a progress or update on any given day, they wouldn’t hold all that much action in and of themselves.

There are empty spaces like Friday and today. I was working out a kink in what the insurance would cover so they didn’t substitute a cheaper, less effective chemo drug for the one the docs actually prescribed, but I never actually went in for any procedure. I spent the time making phone calls which finally landed the chemo 2 days later than expected but still going forward unchanged and for that I’m soooo grateful.

Funny how my gratitude list can change. Yaaay for chemotherapy!
It’s important to keep the main thing the main thing and remember the real reason we’re here.
The treatment itself IS the main thing, not the symptoms. When we go to the doc, it’s usually to treat symptoms. “I have a headache, a toothache, indigestion, a broken arm, whatever… but one thing the Mayo clinic is good at is sticking with the attack on the Cancer itself over the symptoms.
I have swelling in my ankles, stomach, and back, These are fluid build-ups from infection in my body. Difficulty breathing is an ongoing problem and we do a daily fluid-drain so I don’t drown in it. There is ongoing pain in my rib cage and they treat that with opiates that cause constipation. There are meds for the constipation. It can be frustrating to bring a request or ailment to a doc only to have her brush it off and say, “That will correct itself once the cancer is under control. ” But she’s right. As much as I want to FEEL as NORMAL as possible, I want the Cancer gone because that leads all roads back to NORMAL.
So to sum up the symptom list for today: swelling is almost gone in my left wrist and arm (yaaay), swelling is the same in my ankles, stomach and back (booo), has gone down to 275ml at the nightly lung drain at 8pm (yaaay), nausea has all but subsided (yaaaay), breathing is more difficult than ever because of the stomach fluid (booo), I have meds for pretty much anything so there’s at least some relief if anything gets too gnarly (yaaay)

My second round of chemo IS happening Thursday morning despite the tussle (yaaay), We’ve been able to hang with my sister, Linnea who is helping us for 4 days (yaaay), and little Will keeps the rest of us in great spirits overall. (yaaay)

That’s where we stand here in late June and no one but God himself really knows what new thing waits for us tomorrow, but I’m ok with that. He tells us that today has enough trouble of its own. And you know what? He was right.

Another one from Nelson…

Posted on June 26, 2022 by Margaret

Ann Sophie and I (Nelson) read the Bible, 1 chapter every day and have done so in chronological order since we got married almost 5 years ago now. We’re on our second run though it.

The funny thing is: if you do this and don’t skip around, your circumstances line up with the reading in an uncanny way. For example, right when I received my Cancer diagnosis, we started the book of Job.

If you know the book of Job at all, the majority of it is consumed by a series of monologues coming from Job’s friends who visit him, all taking on a little different flavor. Some say he’s being punished for sin, others say he should do something or needs to realize something to make the judgement of God stop. Job’s own wife even delivers a shocking message of her own!

Either way, they all have a message for Job.

I mentioned this to Ann Sophie and how similar it is to what we have going here (if you put me in Job’s position). Many people have come and gone since we moved to Rochester and everyone brings a message or leaves us with a feeling. Some come to help set up furniture (Thank you!!!) Some bring a word of encouragement or help take care of little Will. Some have known me all my life, and call almost wanting to say goodbye. I mean stage 4 lung cancer, right?

But the one common reaction almost everyone has though is this: Surprise.

“Wow! I’m shocked by your optimism.”

“It’s amazing, you and Ann Sophie have such a positive vibe going here.”

“You sound much better than I expected.”

“You look better than I thought you would.”

“I’m so encouraged by our talk.”

“What a blessing is has been to see you, talk to you in person, hear your voice, etc…”

And I guess what I would say is that even though my diagnosis is grim on paper and maybe most folks who get what I have don’t last too long, I have just one approach at this point.

God gave me a beautiful little family. He also gave me a fairly good composition. The docs have given me good odds and told me about treatments we are going to try that my body is likely to respond well to. So many people have committed to us in prayer. I can hardly believe all the cards and letters and gifts we’ve been given. I’m even excited to be an encouragement to others who have what I have once we’re out of the woods at some point in the future. I have NO PLAN to say goodbye to anyone or get in that mode at all. Some might say I’m in denial. Maybe, But one thing I know is this: the war is won and lost on the battlefield of the mind and that’s the only battle I can actually control. And that battle actually controls the outcome.

That being said… and for me and my house, we are living every day like it’s the last and every day like it’s the first of many more to come. We’re committed to the God who can heal me and we are walking that out day-by-day. That’s my proclamation and the only way forward for us. There’s no plan B. I have the most dynamic, optimistic, beautiful woman on the planet and a 15 week old baby boy who need me to stay alive for as long as possible and alive is what I’m going to stay!

Beach Bums No More (…conclusion)

Posted on August 3, 2018 by Margaret

When Scripture describes the Lord as “God of all comfort,” what does it mean? Isn’t it true that when we need comforting, we can get it from many sources? It can come through friends, family members, sermons, books, magazines, a tasty meal, even just a good night’s sleep.

A more accurate way to think about the God of all comfort is to recognize he’s the only One with access to ALL comfort, i.e. all kinds of comfort. His soothing touch can come in a thousand ways, but there’s never any “Whoops. I should have tried something else.”

A case in point was when I was newly crushed after losing my long-term beach buddy, sister Mary (preceding post). Unbeknownst to me, it was several years earlier that God had set up gentle comfort for me during this time.

Back in 2013, our home association began building a sturdy walkway and deck leading from a small, sandy parking lot to the beach.

As Mary and I arrived one day, workmen were digging deep, round holes to establish strong pilings that would hold up the walkway. After digging the holes, they put in plump, white pipe-like forms resembling giant versions of what’s under a kitchen sink. Each was 12″ in diameter.

Next they stood hefty wooden 6” X 6” posts inside the “pipes” and poured in concrete for stability. As Mary and I left the beach that day, the crew had just finished, and she couldn’t resist the wet concrete. “Hey,” she said, “let’s leave a fingerprint.”

Mary bent over the first post and firmly pressed in her right thumb, making a mark that only she could.

In the weeks that followed, the walkway was completed, and neither of us mentioned “her impression” again. We actually forgot about it, but of course God didn’t. Instead he filed it under “All comfort,” saving it for use three years hence.

* * * * * * * * * *

The day finally came when Mary and I sat side-by-side at the beach for the last time. She talked about what was just ahead for her, with terminal cancer. “I hope I don’t die during the summer. That would be hard. September or October would be the best time.”

God gave her that wish. She died in September of 2016.

After that, it was difficult to think of being alone on the sand without my beach buddy, but eventually I did go back. Sitting in that peaceful place, though, where she and I had shared 70 summers, was painful.

That was the moment when God dipped into his file of “All Comfort” and eased my grief with one sweet thought. He reminded me of Mary’s permanent mark on this cherished place, still there where she put it – a small thing, but it brought big comfort on that hard day.