Click ’em off – Round 1 week 3 completed

2012-04-07 GA Process Group copyWe all need those mile markers, don’t we, especially when the journey is long or hard. I remember driving to Alaska with grand kids — I don’t know if the calendar or roadmap meant much to them but it was great for me to celebrate each week, state, providence and city as we clicked them off.

So today was my first day in 3 weeks without Revlimid (chemo). I don’t feel any different yet, but the week off is to give my body some rest and let it rebuild from all it had gone through before we hit it again.

So, we celebrate! Roger and I went out to our favorite pizza place for lunch where we have so many great memories. My sciatic had been giving me fits, so it’s a slow, cautious celebration. It helps me see that I am on a path and clicking away the markers.

For prayer partners, pray we find relief from the pain in my sciatic. I was in the ER Monday but really haven’t found a solution. In the process, they found progression of the cancer in my upper back. I have an appointment with the cancer doctor tomorrow (Thursday).

In the meantime, celebrate with us…and get some rest!

Mind Games – Round 1 Week 2 of chemo

2011-5-22 Great WallI’ve finished my second week of chemo, and I can tell it. I’m shaky and swing from insomnia (thus at post at 4am) to fatigue. I’m starting to puff up with water weight and now weigh more than I have in 6 years.

It’s hard to describe the symptoms, and I know they could be much worse. I am learning how to manage some of them (when headaches will come; don’t fight insomnia but get some good use out of it, how to focus on other things, etc.) but most of the time, internally, they manage me.

One friend said, “Of course, you are poisoning your body.”

I had to think that one through, but it is true. Deliberately, I am poisoning my body. The drugs target fast growing cells which are your cancer cells, but are also good cells. No wonder I am shaky — my body doesn’t know what to do! Does it fight the poison, or is poison its friend?

So it ends up being a mind game. What feels awful is really good. Even if my stomach feels queasy, I don’t need to eat. Even if I am tired, it’s good to focus on something else so that I will sleep at night. What are warning signs that something is terribly wrong inside should be encouraging that the poison is working.

And poisoning yourself is good. In the dying of cells is the potential of life.

In the midst, there is good news. November 21st I have an appointment with the transplant center in Tampa. This is much quicker than last time, which may mean I get through treatment quicker (which would be wonderful). It also may mean facilities are nervous with the changes in health care. Just pray that I won’t be disqualified for some reason.

And pray the poison works.

Crazy!

The Nature of Disease

2011-5-22 Great WallMy disease is cancer, specifically multiple myeloma. Since I’m in the middle of treatment, I tend to think about the nature of “disease.”

Scientists tell us that we all have cancer cells within us. What makes them go crazy in some of us or morph into specific kinds of cancer is often a mystery. We just know it happens. Circumstances may contribute to their explosion, like cigarette smoke or radiation, but other people may have the same set of circumstances and are unaffected.

And, as my husband often says, life is a fatal disease. One thing is true – we will all die of something. Mine just happens to have a name.

I can’t help but relate spiritually. We all carry the ability to do evil within us. It’s part of our humanity, our “less-than-god-ness,” our mortality. For the most part, we keep it in check, disciplining ourselves to not commit murder, even if we are angry. But sometimes it does explode, doing damage to ourselves and others.

Just like cancer, evil/sin can be growing inside and we don’t even realize it. What has been deadly about MM is that you didn’t have symptoms until it was too late. Even then, they were common life symptoms like fatigue that everyone else has, so comparing yourself to others didn’t help. People often died within weeks of diagnosis. Doctors have found genes and conditions that might develop into MM that heighten monitoring but not prevention.

In the same way, bitterness and disappointment can grow subconsciously until an ugly side comes out. By then, cancerous habits and relationships can ruin families, children and lives. Decisions are made for self-survival rather than the benefit of others.

And unless there is some intervention treatment, there is no hope. No amount of perfect diet or discipline exists to prevent cancer. Even if we can keep outward symptoms in check, inward tumors like bitterness or lust grow. While we try to be better, we become more aware of how we fail.

I’m glad that for my cancer there is an intervention treatment. Chemo/transplant will not totally rid me of the disease — it will come back. But for the moment, I am given a reprieve.

For those who follow my blog, you know I am a follower of Jesus. He is the only intervention treatment I know for sin. It will never be irradiated in this life just as my body will never be cancerless.  As hard as I might try to stop it, it grows as a part of my mortality.  Only the substitutional death of Jesus is the cure in a life that is to come.

Eating the Elephant – Round 1 Week 1 of chemo

I’m the kind of person who likes to make goals — anyone who knows me will agree with me. One of my favorite saying is, “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.”

So I’m breaking my elephant of cancer into smaller goals, like starting at the elephant’s tail and working my way up. That way I can celebrate each day/each week as an accomplishment.

How am I feeling? Well, I can tell it is doing something. I feel different with the drugs in my system. Nothing has been really bad so far. My main system in shakiness internally and externally. I can’t hold my hand steady and my insides feel like I’m  anxious when I am not. And the 2nd drug that I take on Wednesdays gives me a headache, which is probably why this blog entry will be short.

IMG_0848On top of everything, I stubbed my toe (won’t you be glad when you quite getting pictures of my feet!). I couldn’t believe it. I was stumbling to the bathroom early morning and caught it on the doorway. Part of me wanted to be mad at God for giving me another trial, but then I laughed — why not? At least it was on the broken foot side and not my good foot. God has grace in the midst of suffering.

Thanks for everyone’s thoughts, prayers and comments. They mean so much to me. I savor  each one of them!

Hurry Up…Wait

IMG_0223 copyI had forgotten how much I said “Hurry up…Wait” the first time I went through treatment — why wouldn’t I think I would be saying it the again? When the medical community wants action, they really push you to get your information in, but then there are all sorts of delays and communication gaps on their end.

All that to say, I did not start chemo on Monday as expected. Medications got delayed and were not delivered until Wednesday. Yesterday, as I started them, I had a bad headache but today it is better. It probably has more do to with the steroid I have to take 1/week (10 pills) so go along with the Revlimid. Today, my face is flushed and red and I hope I’m not getting the rash associated with the drug. Time will tell.

It was a sharp reminder when the package came in it’s special wrapping and all the warning labels that this is real. Even though it is oral and not infusion, it is highly controlled and toxic. And even though we are on a brief trip with friends, life is not normal. I know that as I look towards the future, this is the beginning point.

And I have choices. I can choose to be afraid. I can choose to be bitter. I can choose to detach or deny. I can choose where to put my faith and what my attitude will be.

In the meantime, I take my pills, count the days, pray, make memories and be faithful in little things. I appreciate those who think/pray for me so much during the journey. I do believe we gain strength from others.

Here We Go Again…

IMG_1148I’ve had the hardest time trying to think of what to name this post:

  • What I’ve dreaded is happening…
  • Hope is in the future…
  • I don’t know what to think…
  • God is in the details…

Yesterday was my oncology appointment. And, yes, as we talked about last time, chemo is starting Monday. It’s no surprise. Just a reality.

I have multiple myeloma, what is considered an “incurable” cancer. We knocked it back 7 years ago. 70% relaspe in 3 years. God has been so very gracious in my life. My M-protein jumped 6 months ago and has slowly, steadily increased since then. They delayed treatment because of the broken leg, but now it is time.

How do I feel about it?

I’m ready. I’m ready to fight. I’m ready to go. We took a road trip to visit Roger’s mother, our youngest daughter and experience ArtPriz with a grandson. We’ve intentionally made memories with friends, kids, grandkids. We’ve advice from a counselor. We have support groups. I’ve focused on eating well and working out. I’ve contributed to ministry. We’ve grown personally. We’ve walked with the Lord. We’ve done our prep work.

Will it be enough? What is the goal? Is it to live longer?

That would be nice and I would love to make more memories and serve the Lord longer. But, bottom line, I don’t know his will for the future. I only know it for today. And that is for me to abandon myself to his will. I’ve lived the last 7 years with the thought that God has given me grace for today and will be with me in tomorrow.

What he asks of me is to be faithful.

I know that’s simple. I know I don’t live it perfectly. I know others may not “get it.” I know it will be harder in the days to come when I don’t feel so good. Like any temptation, I’ve been here before, tempted to be anxious, to lean on my own strength, to think doing the “right thing” will conquer the disease. Bottom line, it’s all up to God’s will. I submit myself to it this morning and every morning.

I do know I am not alone. I have this community of readers who walk with me. You know me — I’ll be honest when I’m not doing so well. Even now, tears flow as I anticipate the future. Faith is not without fear. I appreciate your prayers however the Lord is leading you.

I wonder, are there simple statements of faith that embolden you in your walk with God? I’d love to hear them… (comment button just above the picture)

PS – For those who are interested, the drug is Revlimid which I take orally for 21 days and then 7 off for 2-4 months. That will be followed by an autologous stem cell transplant, another 2-3 months process similar to 7 years ago. Pray for all the approvals, especially in light of healthcare changes.

 

I’ve Graduated!

HPIM1079

Graduation is a amazing event.

I love this picture of my daughter, Amanda, as she graduated college several years ago. You can see so much in her face:

  • Confidence
  • Completion
  • Joy
  • Hope and expectations

What you don’t see in that picture are:

  • The suffering and trials it took to get there
  • The fears she has about the future

The good news is that I have “graduated” in regards to my foot. The orthopedic doctor has released me. There was no cap and gown, but there was the same sense of confidence, completion, joy, hope and expectation that glowed on Amanda’s face.

But what is not so easily seen are the impact the ordeal left on me. I’m still hesitant to trust my foot going down stairs. Escalators, the fear of falling forward, is still with me. I can’t walk long distances or my foot swells.

And I have graduated to fears about the future, especially as I head into cancer treatment. Last time the doctor said he didn’t want to wait any longer, so tests begin later this week. Just like Amanda, I wonder what the future will bring.

So right now, I’m celebrating. I’ll take each day as it comes, knowing that God gives grace for each day. I’m so grateful for those who are celebrating with me, but am even more grateful for those who walk with me into the future.

Have you “graduated” lately? Resonate with these feeling? How can I pray for you? (leave a comment; let me know if it is personal and you don’t want it posted)

Just Do It!

IMG_9576 copyI’ve been having a hard time getting back into writing. My book of poetry is 90% complete – just the finishing touches. Sure, I broke my leg, which disrupted routines. It took a long time just get up and ready in the morning. You would think being stuck at home would be a writer’s paradise. It was not.

I can give a lot of excuses, but let me just say I made choices that began new patterns of how I spend my time.  My lack of mobility crept into a lack of motivation. My lack of energy morphed into laziness. My lack of ability formed a lack of focus.

And I confess, I numbed the pain. I’m not just talking about pain-killing drugs I was on after the break or surgeries that left me in a fog. I’m talking about TV and easy things that numbed feelings of inadequately and frustrations of dependency.

Just like the drugs, it wasn’t my real world. My world has people in it I wanted to encourage. My world has obstacles to overcome. My world also had words that needed to be put on paper.

It’s easier to avoid responsibility. It’s easier to live in dependency, letting others care for me.  It’s easier to spend time watching reality TV, other people living their lives. But it’s not me. It’s not my life. It’s not who God called me to be.

So, “just do it!” is what came to me as I prayed. Turn off the TV – I really don’t like the show anyway. I can get myself to the computer. I can spend time with God and let his spirit flow. That is who God uniquely made me to be. And the process of publishing is back on track.

I can’t help but think of others. They may not be writers. They may not have a broken leg or cancer. But they may be numbing themselves away from what God has called them to do with things that in and of themselves are not “bad.” Are they asking themselves, “Is it who God made me? Is it what He is calling me to do? Is it how he has asked me to reflect his character?”

Just do it!

October

IMG_5215 copyThe word for right now is October. We went to the oncologist last week and, as pleased as he is with the healing of my leg, he feels that we should not wait much longer to begin chemo. My next orthopedic appointment is October 1st, so he want to start immediately after my release from that doctor.

What does treatment mean? 2-4 months of chemo followed by a stem cell/bone marrow transplant (6-9 months total).

The good news: I can now schedule and actually make plans. We’ve been given a green light to celebrate vow renewals with my daughter and her husband in September. I know what time I have to finish projects before becoming fogged over in the chemo zone. People know how to pray.

The bad news: It is a reality check. It’s been a wonderful summer of grace. I’ve enjoyed the freedom of driving and accomplishing. I’ve connected back with friends. I’ve felt relatively good. But the truth is, I still have a disease living within me.

Spiritual truth: Even when I’m doing well spiritually, I still have the disease of death/sin within me. At any moment, it can tempt me to not focus on Jesus or desire to do His will. While I love His grace, I should never take it for granted or think “I’ve made it.” My life is always in His hands.

Thanks for your prayers for me. I don’t take them for granted either. Each day is a precious gift. Who would want to waste it with sin?

July Newsletter

July 31, 2013

 Dear Friends,

Thank you so much for your prayers this last month. So much has happened, it’s hard to capture it in a letter.

First, Maggie is walking! She has been walking with a surgical boot, and last week we got the word she can start walking with a regular shoe, starting with a few hours a day. She’s been going to rehab to try to regain a natural gait and has some pain, but overall it’s given her (and me) an incredible amount of freedom. We’re defining a new normal for which we are grateful.

Secondly, doctors have not been able to locate the source of the cancer and therefore, have not begun treatment. For some, this would be a stress builder, but having been through chemo before, this has been a window of opportunity for us to do some things before hard times come. We keep praying that if God wants us to find it and treat it, He will make it high visible. And if He doesn’t, we will continue on the path before us and trust Him.

Third, we had an amazing time at our staff conference and Maggie was able to join me for part of it. Alastair Begg, a pastor from Cleveland, spoke from Jude, encouraging us to stay true to our calling and the faith to which we have been called. I had the privilege to speak to 4 of the ministries that report to me, encouraging them to continue to trust God for the future was we continue to transition them for even greater effectiveness.

Fourth, Maggie was able to complete a project as our President, Steve Douglass, made a report before the Board. There had been confusion on statistics that Maggie waded through and figured how to communicate in a way that affirms our values and goals. She enjoys working on big challenges, but she is also glad when they are over.

Lastly, God is providing the resources to pay for Maggie’s medical and staff conference expenses. We have hit our yearly “out-of-pocket” so Cru is paying 100% of her treatments, for which we are grateful, but we still have a deficit we are trying to cover. Wonderful friends of the ministry have already donated 2/3 of the cost, but we still need about $3000. Could you pray with us that it will be covered.

And if you have not signed up for Maggie’s blog at www.thebruehls.com, I really want to encourage you to do so. She’s done a great job summarizing the spirit at staff conference as well as her thoughts and feelings with her health. I know she’s inspired me through the transparency of her walk with the Lord.

Thank you so much for partnering with us in ministry. We are grateful each day for our partnership that keeps us going. It’s been a good month, and we want you to rejoice with us —

Roger and Maggie

P.S.  If you would like to give towards our medical deficit please go to htpps://give.cru.org/0008787