Spring Fever!

Deanna and I are taking a road trip  to Peoria Arizona today to watch a couple of Padres spring training games.  Spring training is the time of year when the young and still eager to excel rookies mingle with wizened injury healing veterans.  The games are played with a freshness and joy that comes from unbridled abandonment to hope for great things to come in the season just ahead.

My favorite time of year has always been early spring when "all things are made new" and budding life is showing itself in childlike splendor all around us.  Withered dreary browning plant life is decaying into mulch from which the the roots of new seeds and bulbs take nourishment.   I'm hoping that the desert is joyfully blooming after the abundant rainfall we enjoyed the past month.  I'm camera ready for it!

My recovery is progressing gradually and God reminds me constantly that His time, His healing, and His renewal will come as He wills it... not as I wish it.

I am totally off the PEG tube (though the Dr. decided that I should keep it for another month as a precaution for unforeseen complications).  A small concession in the big picture.  My sense of taste is beginning to come back and I've been trying some solid foods.  Last night I had half of a chicken breast with marinara sauce.  Not bad.

I'm  thankful to be progressing in my physical recovery from a the harsh winter of chemo, radiation, and surgery.  Although I won't know for certainty weather the cancer is gone, I am hopeful for it and will continue with each day as a new creation knowing that it is all that the Lord gives us and "tomorrow will take care of itself."

Onward and forward in God's hands, timing, and mercy.

Dave

Baby Steps to recovery

"Getting Better All the Time" slowly...

It is amazing how a simple thing like being able to swallow, or talk without gagging can bring so much joy!  I can do both now and I am getting back nuances of taste.  I have not used the PEG tube for a few days now and I'm really, really looking forward to having it removed.

The biggest deal right now is the pain in my back and neck, and that seems to be getting less and less bothersome.  My energy level is also creeping up to where I can take an hour or two to go to the Church or store without my "gas" gage dropping suddenly to empty.  Getting out into the garden when the sun is shining is such wonderful treat for me now.

I attended my Growth Group meeting for the first time this quarter last Thursday.   Boy was it great to be with them again!

I have my first doctor's appointment since my last radiation a month ago...was it really a month ago?  I won't know whether they got all of the cancer for another couple of months when I will be getting either a pet or cat scan.  The lump in my neck is totally gone now, which is a good indicator that things are looking positive for future prognosis

Again...Onward and Forward in God's grace with baby steps toward full recover (I hope).

Still One Day At a Time, but back to "My Utmost"

I just started back with reading my daily devotional, "My Utmost for His Highest."  It is a daily devotional based on the teachings of Oswald Chambers that I have been faithful to for several years now.  I put it aside about 3 months ago because my spiritual side needed less deep diving (Chambers gets down below the dust and into the deeper soil of Christian development) and a simpler approach to things.  Just asking God to keep me strong enough for this day, or this moment was about the extent of my soul's needs.  Very childlike and, at times, beseeching.

But wouldn't you know it?  Chambers busts my chops right from the get go with letting me know that "God puts us through the discipline of darkness to teach us to heed Him.  Some birds are taught to sing in the dark, and we are put into the shadow of God's hand until we learn to hear Him...If you open your mouth in the dark, you will talk in the wrong mood: darkness is the time to listen.  When you are in the dark, listen, and God will give you a precious message for someone else when you get into the light.  He gives you the gift of humilation which brings the softness of the heart that will always listen to God now."

My voice is about 80% now and I've been able to get some longer periods of sleep in.  I'm back to Tylenol for pain except for a few times that my back and neck get to barking loud enough for me to take a dose of
Vicodin.  I think my kidneys are still trying to shake out the toxins.

We got a juicer so now I'm shooting jevity (supercharged formula), green tea, water, Gatorade, and beet , apple, spinach juice into my peg tube.  I drank a bottle of Ensure yesterday, but it still tastes like no flavored Maalox -yuck.  Fortunately, I have been able to drink hot green tea (with lemongrass) and that keeps my swallowing muscles in shape.

I'm looking forward to tasting things again whenever that time comes.

Onward and forward...One day at a time.

Dave

Now for the "Recovery" part of this journey

It has been a week since my final radiation and two since my third and final chemo.  So, I suppose that puts me in the "recovery" mode of this little journey.  Well...someone needs to let my body know.  I would say that the past week has been the toughest to date.  The after effects of having all that radio active material shot into my arm and beamed into my neck are like "taking a shot of malaria to kill a cold" - Bob Dylan, from "Subterranean Homesick Blues" (I think).  Very sporadic sleep, Vicodin brain, painful sore under my tongue, wierd thoughts, etc.

Yesterday Deanna mentioned that she was going to check out a desk that she saw was on sale at Target.  I thought I'd like to get out of the house (it's been a week since I have) so I said that I would join her.  Maybe not such a great idea.  When we got there we had a bit of a walk to the entrance.  By the time we reached it, I needed to sit down and rest due to light headedness.  We got the desk.  I got humbled.  I need to force more formula into my feeding tube to give my beleaguered red and white cells something to fight back with.

The Superbowl was a much needed respite from the mind numbing stuff on T.V.  Watching two incredibly gifted teams with all universe quarterbacks play such an inspiring game gave me an emotional lift.  The image of Brees with his little boy in his arms was priceless.

I'm really looking forward to getting back to "work" at the church.  We will be relocating to the new site in April or May and I am excited and anxious to do my little bit in installing the new bookstore/cafe'.  Much to do, so I've been pondering and planning, online research for fixtures and such.  Thank you God that I am privileged to part of this time in the life of North Coast!  We are so dang blessed!

Onward and forward in God's time.

Dave

Last day of radiation is tommorrow...None Too Soon.

Early this morning may have been my "low point" to date while undergoing treatment for the past 3 months, including the surgeries.  I'm not going to detail it, but I have a real bad case of "chemo brain" and this morning "chemo stomach and chemo spirit."  Last Tuesday I had my last Cisplatin infusion and I was back there (infusion center) Thursday and Saturday to get re-hydrated.

Tomorrow we "ring the bell" at the radiation center.  It's a tradition they have to celebrate the last day of radiation therapy.

Deanna is starting to get an influx of tax clients, so she is really testing the waters of burn-out.  Doesn't show it much, but she had on her "game face" today.  Amazing though, she got up at 5AM...I think, yesterday to run many miles with some friends from church.  Check out Proverb 31:10-31...she kicks that lady's butt!

Everybody's kind words, thoughts, and prayers have meant so much to us.  If I could plead one more time for a mega-infusion of words lifted to God for more strength in recovery andfaith in His healing, I would be most appreciative. 

The Wall - A Marathoner's analogy

Deanna (my wife) has run many marathons in the past few years.  Last year she qualified and ran the prestigious Boston Marathon.  One of the things I have learned from her is that there is a phenomenon that marathoners refer to as "The Wall."  The wall comes upon some marathoners (even the best) usually at around the 22 mile mark.  For those of you not up on marathon details, the race is 26.2 miles.  So, the wall hits at around the last quarter of the race.

Evidently The wall experience is a predominantly psychological thing rather than a physical challenge.  The runner begins to have thoughts of quitting or letting go of their personal goal.  Of course there is a physical aspect to this, but the best of runners overcome the challenge with their minds through mental, or even vocal self talk.  When teamed with another runner, they can also get through this period with lots of positive coaching and verbal affirmations.

For cancer treatment patients, there is something sort of analogous to the marathoner's wall. Much like The Wall in marathons those of us undergoing chemo, radiation, and surgery can become mentally challenged with self defeating thoughts and burned out with the process.  It is at this point that having positive affirmations, strong faith in a positive outcome and,  for those of us that call ourselves believers, a continued belief in the power of prayer to keep mantra of "stay strong" a reality.

I took my first dose of Vicodin,, since starting the chemo/radiation process, tonight (I did need Vicodin for a few days following both the tonsillectomy and tube insertion surgeries).  I've been okay with Tylenol to this point, but after today's radiation, the pain needs a bigger foe.  I'm tired of getting poked for hydrations/chemo  and radiated and am dreading tomorrow.  I receive my final dose of cisplatin (chemo) tomorrow morning.  The week following the first two rounds was tough.  I have only 6 (out of 30) radiation treatments left with the last coming on Tuesday of next week. 

I know that God is with me each day.  Deanna is the wind in my sails and the prayers of others instill  hope for a cure and a cancer free life for whatever time God allows me to remain on this rock in this dimension.  Life here is really precious and there is so much left to experience (grand kids, growing old with Deanna, working in my garden, travel, and music, music, music!).

Beautiful Rain, Voiceless in SoCal

I looked at the schedule for treatment this morning and see that I have 9 more rads. and one more chemo before the cycle is through- less than 2 weeks to go.  My voice is pretty much gone with occasional surprising periods of being able to make an utterance come through, albeit not with much volume or clarity.  Deanna has had to work on some response habits in order to help me from becoming frustrated with her.  I get a bit cranky with her when I try vocalizing something and she gives me the "what are you trying to say" look.  But, all in all, we are making it work fairly well.

Continuing with stomach tube feedings or gatorade (almost hourly), salt water and green tea with lemongrass gargles (at least hourly) and aquafor or cortizone cream applications to my neck regularly.  My neck has become reddish brown and itches/burns off and on. Tylenol is still sufficient for the throat pain, but I'm getting tempted to hit the hydrocodone (vicodin) on occasion.

As I've mentioned in the past, Deanna has been a rock for me though this stuff and I'm so, so grateful for that.  She is forgiving of my sometimes childish impatience and offers head and back rubs nightly...the best medicine by far.

On ward and forward trusting God, prayers, and the healing powers He has provided.

Dave