Take Gentle Care

Lettuce, kale, hot peppers, cilantro, tomato

We fill up ourselves with many things -all day long.  Some good, others not so good. Week after week and month after month. Sometimes we forget that the Lord wants us filled with him -with love and blessings- with joy and peace. With the Lord, we can become renewed and experience growth. Without the Lord guiding us we harden our hearts and become less sensitive to his touch on our hearts. We become hardened to how we care for ourselves and to others. We quickly become empty...like an empty half barrel (photo below.)

CTCA: The last appointment

Well it's been several days since my last post. We were at CTCA with a full schedule and a sense of frustration. As we waited in the exam room with our homemade medical binder awkwardly propped on my lap, I wondered why I would be meeting with a surgeon. Surely they heard me several times before we came to Phoenix that I wasn't interested in chemotherapy -so it couldn't be to have a port surgically installed into my chest. I'd already had surgery 28 days prior and the wounds were healing. So we waited. 

Once he arrived he asked how I found the tumor and what all had transpired up to this point. Then he told us that the surgery I'd had was rather old fashioned as -he would have had me on chemotherapy prior to surgery. 

My hubby began to defend our well known and well regarded Albuquerque breast surgeon. This led to heated discussion/stand-off which resolved with the surgeon saying we should probably not spend time replaying what has already happened and look at future plans. But isn't that where he started? He examined me (#18 person to examine me). While checked out my wounds, I asked why I was seeing him for an appointment since surgery was completed. He stated that depending on how chemo goes at some point he might have to remove all or nearly all my lymph nodes in the arm pit area. Seriously, did he just say chemo, again?

I looked at him, as he was 8 inches away from my face and prayed over his heart. (That he might know you Jesus.)

I asked him if he had ever had cancer. He said, no. I asked him if he would chose chemo as a treatment for himself and with the unknown, long term affects changing who he is and even to the point of removing him from his career. We had a discussion about the purpose of life. He says enjoyment. Of course I introduced Jesus to him. He took pause several times throughout the discussion to consider what I was saying. But then would return to his 'standard of care' rhetoric.  That although there was no way to measure any cancer cells in my body, the standard of care was chemotherapy to be sure.

We discussed other possibilities such as drug trials and immuniotherapy. Both he said were used when all other treatments had failed....after chemo and radiation fail. All I could think was, 'why am I here??' I was reminded of the song, Hotel California -"you can check out anytime you like but you can never leave." It creeped me out. 

As he discussed the possibility of lymph nodes being filled with cancer at some future point (yet undetectable at this time due to the way scans view lymph nodes after surgery) and how at some future time I may have to have all the lymph nodes in the arm pit area removed. So, I asked about lymphedema (edema of the entire arm and hands due to the lack of lymph nodes). He didn't see it as a problem to live with life long lymphedema as long as you went to physical therapy. Um, for starters I don't want lymphedema. Secondly, who can afford to go to physical therapy for the rest of their life? 

The appointment ended and I felt like a bad patient -asking too many questions, wanting what I want, arguing points -and worse not a good messenger of the word. I hadn't made him laugh or feel cared for as I could have. 

It was utterly exhausting. 

We left the office and made our way to to the cafeteria, as I really needed a cup of tea.  I looked closely at all the patients we passed by. Each one easily identifiable by an plastic identification wrist band. None looked as though they were recovering or becoming healthy. For a minute I wanted to run -run as fast as I could out the doors and to our car. But instead I just kept observing...the ones who looked healthy and well were the employees. Again, the song Hotel California came to mind.

Hot Tea and Prayer  -Charm is deceptive Psalm 31:30

We sat quietly at a charming, linen covered table. I drank my hot tea, praying for clarity and thinking of all the ways I had been reducing stress and focusing on healing prior to our trip to Phoenix. I'd lost all of those things in 48 hours. Where was the sun on my face and laughter -when did it all become so heavy. Where was the dancing underneath the stars?  And what could this place could offer us?

Honestly, it's a medical facility. They offer medical treatment that is a standard of care -reimbursable by insurance. What I had hoped for was not here. Not in this place. And furthermore, I was losing the peace and joy which was stolen from us with every person pushing chemotherapy. 

The main issue I had with CTCA wasn't the environment -it's charming; it wasn't the staff they were medical professionals; it wasn't the other patients doing what they could to continue to live.

It was me (my faith). 

The main issue I had with CTCA was that I didn't fit there and how I wished I could. It would have been much easier. But isn't that the rub with the 'world.' Now I was told that the oncologists on my team were faith-based, but I didn't see that part of who they were. Their profession superseded faith -from what I saw. It's understandable -I was touched by our Lord -no chemotherapy. But oncologists treat with chemotherapy.

It makes me think of being a counselor so over 20 years and how the faith-based community is divided over the use of counseling. I've heard too many times that counselors are unnecessary as people just need to go to Jesus. Does that mean my calling is worthless? That the years of working with people was worthless? That I was worthless? No. I know better. But the thought is there. As such, I feel no ill will toward oncologists. But for me and my situation, I had to go to Jesus and just be with him -no oncologists.

When it's time to go ...leave

As soon as they had brought them out, one of them said, “Flee for your lives! Don’t look back, and don’t stop anywhere in the plain! Flee to the mountains or you will be swept away!” -Genesis 19:17

After the insightful cup of tea, I knew what to do. I couldn't stay there any longer. We cancelled the scans, went to our room, packed and checked out of the hospital. I called the number for 'scheduling' from the car to cancel all other appointments. As we drove away, I began to feel the tremendous heaviness lift from my heart. The further away we drove the better I felt.

On the way out of Phoenix we came across an IKEA. One of my all time favorite stores. My hubby asked if I wanted to stop. It was that moment that I realized that it wasn't the rooftop garden that made our dancing joyful and fulfilling  but that we brought that part of our marriage with us. 

We make our moments special, normal, lovely -when we choose to. I looked at him -as he wanted to make me feel better- he wanted to feel better too. So we stopped at IKEA. We had lunch (lentil stew with veggies) and hot tea. We walked around and for an hour talked of daily life without cancer mentioned. 

While walking around I got a call from the surgical nurse who had been in our last appointment. She wanted to know why we'd left before getting the treatment plan and scheduling future appointments. I explained how I had become worn out telling every single person that I didn't want chemotherapy and it seeming to be the only option. She said the treatment plan appointment scheduled for the following day would have reviewed all my options and that chemo was one. She inferred that they offered naturopathic options. But when I had discussed that as an option with the intake nurse she made it clear that all naturopathic options were to alleviate reactions from chemotherapy. It was confusing to be honest. Where was the faith-based options that I'd been told about? The chapel was a quiet, restful empty place without anyone to talk to. I hoped that she understood my concerns and although I felt emotional I tried to be polite and honest.

We can only have one master -his name is Jesus

Honestly, I want to go to the christian oncologists and see their joy at being a good patient. I want to be the kind of woman who 'fights' cancer. I want to believe that medications called chemo could heal me. But that's not who I am or what I'm about or what God has put on my heart. I can not afford the luxury to follow what everyone else does or what others want or what the world does. Obedience to the Lord is all I am willing to do. (I'm not always obedient, but when there's a struggle to be obedient or not, well, it all goes well when I choose obedience.) For those of you who are faith-filled and believe in chemo -please understand- I respect your choices/decisions, I really do. 

We arrived home four days ago completely wiped out. We were as empty as the half barrel waiting to be filled in body and spirit.

Let the Lord fill up your empty barrel

A close friend texted a photo of a flower in Hawaii and said to 'take gentle care.' These three words  have danced in my mind. How can I be more gentle with myself? It's not about cancer treatment but living my life with the Lord and caring for myself, in gentle ways. 

It has taken me all of the last four days to renew with the Lord.  After church yesterday, my 18 year old daughter and I drove to Cloudcroft for lunch (salad for me). We sang songs together and laughed. We went to Home Depot and purchased garden starts and an empty half barrel to grow salad veggies. Later my husband and I rode his motorcycle to the church for the annual/financial meeting. We received a second confirmation from the Lord, that the surgery removed all of the cancer.... and I am cancer free. Praise God!

Now to take gentle care and let the Lord, fill up my empty half barrel with the most nurturing of plants. 

Half barrel waiting to become a salad bowl