Living for my Reward

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Today's the day I find out what options I have.  I'm sitting in the treatment room nervously twiddling my thumbs and swinging my feet as I wait for my cancer doctor.  In walks my physician's assistant holding a small sheaf of papers.  Holding out his right hand, he offers me the printed CT scan results.  

"Kristy, I assume you already read the results?"

"Yup.  I know my cancer is worse and the tumors are significantly larger.  No more Eribulin for my chemotherapy treatment."

"Yes.  As of now, all we have to offer you is either palliative care or application to clinical trials.  First, palliative care is not hospice; it is access to an interdisciplinary team of medical staff who can assist you with relief from the cancer symptoms so that you can maximize your quality of life.  Second, know that since you have tried 7 types of chemotherapy and none have worked, any clinical trial you participate in will likely have less than 5% chance of shrinking your tumors.  Those who choose to receive experimental treatments outside of their geographical area temporarily move to the clinical trial host site.  Are you willing to travel?"

Instantly, my mind flashes me a picture of living elsewhere: no family support, no friends to drop by, can't eat restaurant food, trying to grocery shop and cook while on chemo, stress of an unfamiliar location, additional living costs... the list goes on and on.  The instability of my body makes me scoff at the very idea of trying to travel long distance.  "Nope.  Can't to do it.  There's no way I'm willing or able to travel for clinical trials.  Traveling from Milpitas to Stanford Hospital already pushes my limits when I'm tired.  Living elsewhere, I don't believe I can manage my needs away from home."

The door closes softly as the physician's assistant steps out to speak to my cancer doctor.  I snuggle my head against Noel's neck.  Tears leak from my eyes.  Why am I crying?  The conversation went exactly as I expected.  My options?  Limited.  I furtively inch my right hand under my right cheek in an attempt to wipe away the moisture dripping down my face.  Doesn't work.  Noel's shirt is already damp.  Clenching my teeth, I endeavor to speak in a cheerful tone, "Noel, whatcha think?"  Tilting my chin up, I glance into Noel's eyes.  He's crying too.

Deep breath in... Dang it!  I didn't want to cry.  Now my tears are just coming faster.  Noel wraps his arm around me tight.  I can feel my head getting wet.  I'm sure Noel's shirt is damp too.  Together, we silently comfort each other.

Time passes.  

Shoot, the doctor will come in any moment!  Yanking tissue from the box on the table, I hand Noel some tissue, then stuff the rest against my face.  It's miraculous that not wanting someone else to see me cry can stop my tears just like that.  *sheepish grin* Making my face presentable, I lean my right shoulder heavily into Noel's left shoulder.  My hand creeps in to tightly clasp Noel's hand.  We wait.

My cancer doctor sweeps into the room with the physician's assistant quietly following.  Getting right to the point, my doctor states, "There's a clinical trial you can apply for.  It's a phase I trial combining a chemotherapy drug and another drug targeted to stop blood vessel formation.  I'm hoping that this will shrink your tumors.  Do you want to try it?"

Honestly?  No.  I'm tired of chemotherapy failing and leaving my body weaker.  I'm tired of getting my body broken over and over again while my cancer continues to run rampant.  Since April of 2007, I've gone through 3 abdominal surgeries.  From January 2012, I started my first round of chemotherapy and have failed every single one.  Now in August 2015, all that's left for me in the medical field is the proud opportunity to be a guinea pig through uncharted experimental drugs.  Lovely.

Taking a deep breath, I reply, "Sure, let's do this.  I'll sign the papers today."

Ah, Father God, Jesus Christ, Holy Spirit... help me!  I so don't want to do anymore chemotherapy.  I'm tired of breaking, getting weaker, increasing my dependence on all those around me.  Lord, I honestly don't care if I die.  Death means rest from pain, the dysfunctions of my body, and I believe that I'll get to be with you.  There's nothing wrong with that right?

Yeah, I know it's not yet time to leave this earth or else I'd already be gone.  *wide grin*  I'm not waiting to die.  I refuse to sit back and let my life, however long or short, slip by.  But I'm tired.  Cancer may limit my activities, my abilities, my energy; but Lord, don't let hopelessness or despair ever crush my spirt.

This is my battle cry.  This is my declaration of intent to fight.

I will fight with every fiber of my being to live and live well.  But what does it mean to live?  For me, living is not just an existence where I eat, breathe, sleep, play.  No.  Living requires purpose, a goal, direction.

Lord God, I made serving you, loving you, emulating you as my first priority in this life.  Because this life is yours, I am willing to walk through any path you call me to live so that in this life, you are truly Lord.  I will continue to trust you with the journey of my medical care.  My acupuncturist believes that this body you've given me is strong.  He says not to do chemotherapy because the poisons weaken my body and allow the cancer cells to replicate faster.  I believe him; I see my tumors rapidly increase in size the weaker my body gets.  Lord, I continue to choose any chemotherapy experiment that comes my way knowing that if you don't call me to walk that path, one way or another, you will cancel or invalidate my application. 

I surrender to your will so that you alone will shine as first in all choices.  I will live until you choose to call me to rest.  I will not surrender to my own wants, but will struggle and fight because you are my everything.  Lord, you are the love of my life. In you, I have complete trust in your goodness.  I blindly follow whatever path you call me to walk so that I can personally know you more.  You are my Father in heaven who hurts when I hurt, loves me unconditionally, shapes me so that I can grow ever closer to you... I will not waste this life to satisfy my own desires unless I can match it to yours.  Help me, Lord, live this life so completely for you that all the pain and affliction means nothing compared to being with you... For, God, you are my reward in this life and the next.

In Jesus' name I pray, amen.  

Thursday, August 27, 2015

Praise God!  My application to the chemotherapy experiment is canceled due to the drug containing gluten and alcohol which gives me severe allergic reactions.  Yay!!!  Until my doctor can find another experimental drug appropriate for my type of cancer, I am free to get stronger, to recover from years of infusing poison into my system, and wait to see what God chooses to do with my fast-growing tumors.

God, please stabilize my body and heal me like no one else can.  In Jesus' name I pray, amen. 

Saw this octopus tree with a knitted body in San Mateo:

Dealing with an Aggressive Cancer

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Standing up straight, I notice pulling inside my right abdomen.  These past couple of days, I see abnormal round protrusions, likely from the cancerous masses.  My endurance is significantly less than 2 months ago.  I can feel my muscles wasting away from lack of use.  *deep sigh*  Do I increase my activity and aggravate the internal discomfort?  Or do I take it easy and let my muscles atrophy?  I don't like either option.  

Father God, please guide today's appointment with the cancer specialist.  My body continues to break down.  My tumors continue to grow.  Father, not sure where my life is going, but things aren't looking so great.  

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

I have the results of my CT scan, taken yesterday, in my hands.  As expected, the tissue masses are larger.  Somehow, even as my brain processes the unchangeable facts, I feel heaviness in my chest.  Tears seep from the corner of my eyes.  Am I sad?  Scared?  I don't know anymore.  With over 50 tumors in my abdomen, surgery won't cure me.  Depending only on human medicine, I've now tried and failed 7 types of chemotherapy treatments.  My largest 4 tumors each grow about 1cm every month.  Like a ticking time bomb, my lifespan depends on how my tumors push against surrounding organs and the issues that will arise due to malfunction or organ failure.  

As I lay in bed, tears continue to roll out the corners of my eyes.  They won't stop.  My pillow is damp.  I throw my right arm across my face hoping that the pressure will slow the flow of moisture.  It's not working.  My arm is wet.  Swiping my left forearm across my face I find that now both arms are wet.  Great, this is just what I need, a self-made swimming pool. Wiping my arms across my shirt, I draw in a deep shuddering breath.  I need to stop crying. I need a distraction.

My eyes wander across the room; I see a pile of snacks on my bedside table, an accumulation of scrap papers on the floor, clothes thrown over my chair to put away sometime later.  I see the mess of my room everyday; frequently for hour after hour after endless hour on my worst days.  Meh.  My gaze falls onto my legs.  I glare at each bony protuberance.  I wince as I see skin that stretches taunt over protruding tendons, knobby joints, thighs almost the size of my calves... not quite the look I want to go for.  I see my body and cringe inside; this body is weak.  *shudder*

I hear the garage door rumble open.  Noel's home.  He left work after I emailed him and my entire family the CT scan results.

Thump.  Thump.  Thump.  Rolling my head to my right, I see the top of Noel's head as he ascends the stairs.  As his tired footsteps fall on each step, more of his body becomes visible.  Suddenly, I notice two plastic-covered items dangling from Noel's left hand.  Is that Kristy edible ice cream?  *drool*  Quickly, before Noel lifts his head to actually look at me, my hands fumble around.  Grasping a fistful of my shirt in each hand, I swipe the material across my face to erase the trail of tears.  Pasting a small smile on my face, I prepare to greet my tired and over-stressed husband.

Noel finally reaches the second floor and walks into our bedroom.  Looking up, his smile wavers at the edges.  "I stopped by Safeway to get you this ice cream."

Ahhhhhhh, my beloved Hub-chan, he loves me so much.  I can feel tears pooling against my bottom eyelid.  Blinking quickly, I pat the space next to me.  Diverting myself, I snuggle my right side against my husband and quietly focus on eating my dessert.  Silently, we gently munch at the chocolate and almond encrusted ice cream bar.

"I couldn't stay at work anymore.  After reading about your CT scan results, I couldn't focus.  As I was leaving work, a co-worker asked if I was okay and I started to cry."

Tilting my head up, I finally look at Noel's face, then his eyes; I can see the tears shimmering with reflected light.  Dang it!  I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes too.  I bury my face hard against Noel's left shoulder as he holds me tight.  We cry.  A deep ache twists and throbs inside my chest.  I don't want to die and leave my husband alone; this year will be our 10th year anniversary.  How much longer will I get to live?  What kind of life am I living now?

God, my options in you are limitless.  I believe you can do anything you choose to do.  I know my medical care is beyond the ability of human medicine; that's okay because even throughout my entire course of medical care, you show that you are present.  I don't know what you have up your sleeve, but I know you have something planned for this life of mine. Don't let me waste what time I have on this earth be it 1 year, 5 years, or even 100 more years!  Father God, I thank you for bringing Noel home so that we can comfort each other. Thank you for such loving family and friends.

Lord, in your presence, I take great joy, deep comfort, and relax in the hope of your unbroken promises.  This life is not useless.  Lord, I have you in my life.  Lord, I know you personally as I interact with you every day.  Lord, I see you come through over and over and over again.  You are my rock, my redeemer, my God.  To you, oh God, I lift my voice in praise.  In the name of Jesus Christ I pray for your will to be done, amen.

Noel and I playing with the camera at Stanford while waiting for my doctor appointment:

Feeling Useless

August 3, 2015

How long have I been on disability now?  Close to 3 months I believe.  In these 3 months, I find myself laying in bed hour after hour after hour.  I eat, so dishes pile up.  I change clothes, so laundry accumulates.  

Poor Noel; he works, he cleans, he takes care of the cats, he has obligations as part of the paintball team to practice, and he takes care of me.  So much for being in a marriage where both husband and wife work together.  Noel gives so much by taking care of me.  I take and give nothing in return except to be a source of stress.  This lifestyle irks me.  Sure I don't always feel well, but I'm not incapable of helping out either!

With solid determination to do something and be helpful running in the forefront of my thoughts, I roll to my left.  Kicking my feet off the edge of our super high bed, I half-roll almost onto my stomach before bending my legs.  Reaching my toes to the floor, I forcefully leverage my upper body away from my pile of pillows and the alluring softness of my mattress.  Standing upright, my vision immediately starts to cloud up with a film of gray.  For a moment, everything is in shades of black and white.  My head throbs to the pounding of my heart.  Right hand on my bed for balance, I quickly bend forward at my waist until my head is parallel with the floor and start walking.  This happens everyday, my blood pressure drops, but in about 5 steps, I fully recover.  I can see the beige in the carpet again.  The overwhelmingly loud pounding in my head fades to a soft thumping rhythm.  Once again, I'm upright.  I don't bother to stop walking, but my hand no longer needs to be on the bed for balance.  Okay, time to start being useful!  

Going downstairs, I let my left hand float over the railing.  I don't expect my legs to collapse, but I take pride in being able to say that I haven't blacked out in a while.  *sheepish grin*  Well, at least I've never blacked out while coming downstairs!  *wide grin*  Not something on my to-do list.

Shuffling across the cool laminate flooring, I arrive at my destination; the kitchen.  Surveying the area, I see plates, bowls, and utensils stacked one into another soaking in a bucket of water on the right portion of the sink.  The left sink portion contains more bowls and plates.  To the left of the sink, cups and baking pans sit waiting to be cleaned.  On the stovetop, a large pot with old spaghetti sauce needs to be soaked for easy washing.

Heaving a deep sigh, I mentally prepare for the task at hand.  First, soap the dishes on the left side of the sink.  While rubbing my sponge across the surface of a small bowl, I note the slowness of my hand movement.  Forearms braced against the rim of the sink, my body half-sags for additional support.  This is sad, there's no strength in my arms.  Determined, I use a little more strength, speed up my movements.  I feels my reserves draining faster.  Never mind, if I'm going to finish cleaning even half the dishes, I need to slow down and conserve all my energy.  

I complete washing all the small stuff, the pot's gonna have to wait.  What should have taken 10 minutes (max) to wash just took me 30 minutes!  My hands have no strength.  I can feel the pounding of my heart, the weakness of my legs.  *deep sigh*  Time to rest in bed.  Forget the laundry, sweeping the floor, playing with the cats... I'm at my limit.  Time to lay down again.

Lord, thank you for the motivation to do more than be a blob at home.  Even though I can't fully  contribute my portion of the basic housework, I'm happy that I can do a little something.  Thank you, God, that since chemo was last week, I should be getting stronger this week!  I look forward to getting stronger, doing more, maybe even playing paintball?  *hopeful look*  

Thank you, Father God, for giving me a mind that won't allow me to wallow too long in my weakness.  Thank you for giving me the drive to keep pushing my physical limits so that I don't get even weaker.  Lord, I fear not being able to do anything.  I fear being a useless weight my husband has to deal with.  I fear loosing what little independence I currently have. 

Father, I have many fears; and yet, in your presence, I have joy and hope that is not of this world.  Keep giving me the heart to struggle and not give up.  Give me a smile that shines from your Spirit.  Give me the wisdom to use everything you've placed into my hands for your glory.  Give me your heart to keep loving others.  Make this house you've blessed Noel and I with as a place of rest for the heart, a place your Spirit dwells, a place where you shine so bright that only joy, peace and hope exist because you are clearly here.

In Jesus' name I pray, amen. 

Me hanging out in my hyperbaric chamber:

The Promise: 8th Annual Church Paintball Event

Today is finally the day of our 8th Annual Church Paintball a Event!

God, you promised that I'll be able to play with no holds barred.  I will trust in your promise and your provision.  Forget the last couple days of dizziness or weakness; today, it's going to be amazingly awesome because you made this event possible!

Father God of all Heaven and Earth, into your hands I release this event into your care.



"Start in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... Go.  Go.  Go. Go. GO!"

My heart pounds with the thump echoing in my ears.  Adrenaline courses through my veins. My eyes shine bright in anticipation and my feet bounce against the ground.  I love being on the paintball field; just being here makes me feel alive!

Holding myself still, I assess my side of the field.  Lord, where do you want me to go? There's 40 people here.  What if there's somebody who really needs or wants help... God, don't let anyone fall through the cracks today.  Guide me to serve so that your Spirit will shine and your presence be undeniably present!

Crouching nearby, I see one of our youth girls.  Gun in hand, she huddles behind a wall, unmoving.

Sliding forward, I gently I touch her shoulder and lean towards her left ear.  "Are you okay?  Is this scary?"

She slowly nods her head yes.

"No one is shooting here right now.  There's no paint hitting this wall or the ground around you.  Come, let's take a look to see if there's anyone you can shoot."

I peek around the wall, I encourage the girl to join me in scanning our surroundings.  No one in sight.  Good.  Coaxing her forward, we move to the next wall.  Ah, perfect!  No paint is flying in this direction.  Yes, opponents are visible.  Easy targets.  *drool*

"Can you see those guys in the middle?"

Cautiously, the girl peeks out.  Quickly, she pulls back and nods her head.  Guiding my hand along her gun, I position the gun against her shoulder and adjust the angle of the barrel.  "Okay, all you have to do is lean your body out, keep your gun pointed in this direction and pull the trigger."

"Game over.  Time's up!"

God, give this girl the strength and courage to step beyond her fears to enjoy the fun that paintball can be.  Give her and the rest of these kids (and adults) the support each needs to step forward, the ability to get past the painful hits, the courage to step back onto the battlefield, and the strength to stay positive in the face of loosing.  Lord, I ask for you to bless this group with fun, laughter and integrity regardless of winning, loosing, painful hits, or even unfair calls.  I ask that you show everyone this day what it is like to have you present.



We've only finished the first round of games, but already sweat trickles down my chest.  My gun, still unused, sags heavily in my hands.  Today's going to be hot!  Already, two people need band aids for cuts; one from a paintball, another from falling into the castle's moat.  Another guy limps off the field from a hard hit on his thigh. Around me, I hear stories of people getting shot in the groin and one on the neck.  Ouch!  

God, is this really okay?  There's a lot of minor injuries first thing in the morning!  Will anyone still want to play after this?  I know I prayed for openings to serve and for people to be loved on; but even for a paintball event, what kind of calamities are you going to allow for the rest of this day?

I'm scared, a little anxious.  But isn't this what I prayed for?  I asked God to be in complete control.  

As I shuffle my feet in resignation, a movement on my left catches my eye.  Turning my head, I see a bunch of guys crowding around a girl on the bench and two staff members present.  Oh shoot.  Is this girl part of our group?  One of the guys hovering around her is from my church youth group.  Heart sinking, I toss my gun on a nearby table and rush over.

Eyes glazed.  Minimal response.  Slowed speech.  Body drooping forward.  Not good.  I focus on the conversations around me:

"Yeah, I had to carry her."
                                                                   "Probably got too hot."
                                    "How are you feeling?"
                                                                                              "For a little bit, she was out."

                       Concern                         Helplessness
                                      Desperation                                                   Hesitation
                                                                                    Inexperience

Oh Lord, already?

I get the closest guy to lay the girl on the ground.  I send another for wet towels and hear footsteps running off.  Without turning away, I lift the girl's head and hand her a nearby Gatorade.  "Take a couple of sips every minute, no gulping."

Drat.  It's hard to drink laying down.  Too late to lift her upright.  Laying down is safer in case she blacks out.  

Taking a nearby sweatshirt, I stuff it under the girl's head for a pillow. Someone hands me two wet towels.  Perfect.  I quickly place one on her neck and hand her the other towel.  "Use this to wipe your face."  

Looking down, the girl appears more alert.  "Here, drink another couple of sips.  Cooling your body more would be good.  If your willing, squeeze the wet towel and soak your shirt across the abdomen.  It's hot enough your clothes will dry fast."

Oh Lord, did this really have to happen so early in the day?  Give me the wisdom to provide appropriate care for fluid dehydration.  Give me the eyes to assess this girl's body and plan for the next step.  Help me to manage today's event to completely eradicate the chance of anybody else getting dehydrated!

Father God, I know I asked for no major injuries, but this is cutting it pretty darn close!  In this type of heat, it's really hard to recover.  It sucks, but this girl may not be able to participate in today's paintball event.  Should I pull her out?  Return her money?  God, please give me your wisdom!  I want her to be able to play today.  I want her to be stable and safely play paintball with her friends!  I want her day to be filled with laughter, fun experiences, and for her to enjoy the deep sense of community only you can create.  I want her healthy so that her friends can also wholeheartedly enjoy the blessings of playing with and against each other.

"Here, make sure you sit in the shade.  Still feeling okay!  Dizzy?  Nauseas?  Discomfort? I'm honestly not sure if you can participate in the rest of paintball today.  Keep drinking sips of fluid; if you like Gatorade, switch between that and water.  I leave the decision up to you whether you choose to play or not.  But you've gotta be very careful; if this happens again, it'll be worse the second time around."

God help!



"Kristy, can I get a band aid?"

Turning around, I see that the next game, or maybe even the third game, has already ended.  "Sure.  Show me the cut."

My eyes pop open.  The outer skin is completely torn off!  I've never seen this happen in paintball before... At least not from a paintball!  A full circular wound is visible completely torn down to the reticular layer, a criss-cross mesh of yellow-white fibers.  Great.  What in the world is happening out there?!?

"Is this a paintball shot?"

"Yeah."

Oh my goodness, today is so out of my control.  Yup God, all yours.  What happens today I know you allowed it, so in whatever you allow, please protect these children!  

Arghhhhh... I wanna pull my hair out!  Today is dangerous beyond what my words can express!  This is not normal paintball!



Father God, as always, you are beyond amazing!  I asked for 40 players; you ended up providing 41.  I asked for your help in gathering over half the needed payments and electronic waivers on the morning of the event before 9am; you completed this process in 30-minutes by 8:55am when my personal best still took 60-minutes.  I asked for no major injuries; there were none... But there were PLENTY of minor injuries.  I asked for opportunities to serve and share in how playing paintball with integrity, prayer, and a good attitude is our way of bringing God into our passions, our hobbies; Lord, you answered this request too.  I asked that the girl who got dehydrated would fully recover to play paintball with her friends; she did.  But not only that, God, you gave her the energy and ability to play so well that she surrendered players and became the key in winning games.  I asked for protection of our youngest players and promised to keep them out of the advanced games while my neighbor went to pick up the pizza; Lord, you protected them even as they participated in the advanced games (I had no idea they came in on the field and joined the other side).  *deep bow of apology to the parents*

I still shudder when I think of all the potential injuries, dehydration issues, hurt feelings... But Lord, you took care of it all!  No twisted ankles.  No complaints of headaches past the single occurrence of dehydration which spurred me on to constantly bug everyone to drink water. Lord, you even provided extra water so that there was no need to portion fluids throughout the entire day.  

Father God, I thank you for the laughter of everyone present.  I thank you for the strength you gave me so that I could completely participate in today's event!  I thank you for providing just the right people at all the right times to help run this event smoothly.  I thank you for two friendly referees.  I thank you for providing treasured friends to share their time and energy to selflessly teach and protect the new players.  I thank you for even providing people who we've never even met before to guard our bags so nothing got stolen.  I thank you that in the chaotic return of equipment, everything was completely returned.  I thank you that even though we played really late, the late arrival of the pizza allowed everyone to eat fresh pizza instead of old cold pizza.

Lord, you are all-powerful indeed!  This entire day is a blessing.  Thank you for the chance to see you so clearly present, so clearly in control, and so clearly purposeful!  Thank you for allowing me to participate in your story and walk beside you in this journey of sharing your glory. Thank you for loving me enough to answer all my demands, my requests, my wishes all so that I can shout that my God is a living God, real in my life, and visible by your provisions.  

I am humbled by your goodness.  I am awed by your power.  I am freed by your love.  I am comforted by your unbroken promises.

Father God, in you, I lay my life.  In the name of Jesus, give me the strength to serve and ground my identity in you.  With the Holy Spirit, may I shine brightly as a small reflection of you on this earth.

Oh yeah, and one more thing.  God, can you continue to give me strength?  Tomorrow is a practice with our other paintball team, Crimson Rage.  I would like to participate... just a little bit.  Please?  I really want to participate at least in the second half.  I know I'm crazy.  Today alone with the heat, full gear, carrying my heavy gun, and playing paintball would wipe out any unseasoned, physically untrained person.  For the past 6-weeks, I've been mostly stuck in bed with a couple days where you blessed me with the strength to bed out of bed for half a day.  Today is my first day out of bed for so many hours, I should be completely drained.  In fact, logically I know I should rest tomorrow.  Forget logic.  Lord, will you please bless me with the energy to play more paintball?  If you will it, I believe anything is possible!

*huge grin*  Well, God, if you're going to teach me to pray boldly, I'm going to do it!

In Jesus' name I boldly ask my Father in Heaven for another day of playing paintball... one in which I can fully enjoy myself without physically crashing or being too sore to move. Amen.

Video clip of us playing paintball also found at https://youtu.be/Hd1G450Dr90

(un)CERTAINTY

Monday, June 22, 2015

My feet drag as I walk into the doctor's office.  Plopping into a chair, I wait with Noel supportively by my side.  

I'm scared.  Today's another chemo day.  

Last chemo sent me to the hospital for two days with fever, a high resting heart rate and an even higher moving heart rate up to the 150s.  I don't want to deal with the chemo again!  Can I just stop?

I know God will guide the doctors in regards to my treatment.  I know God is all-powerful and if he wanted me to get chemo, I can physically crash the entire week and still be strong enough to participate in the Summer Church Paintball Event this Saturday?  Or God can let me have chemo and get no symptoms at all.  Even better, how about no chemo?  God can do anything.  But for me, will I have to go through another week of misery?

I'm tired.  Part of me is breaking inside.  How much more?

Father God, I don't know what you have planned for me.  I'm clueless as to which direction you're guiding my care.  Lord, I know that in you, anything is possible.  Please give me peace as I follow your will.  Give me comfort as I choose to serve you.  Give me a heart to accept the doctor's judgement as I know their decisions are under your will.  Give me the heart not to argue, not to push my will, but allow you to be in complete control.

In Jesus' name I pray, amen. 

The doctor comes in.  She sits down.  I know what she's going to say; there's a certain look.  Is that pity I see?

"Kristy, you will get chemo today.  To counter the alcohol allergy, we'll give you Benedryl and a steroid called Dexamethasone.  Any questions?"

Inside, my heart drops.  I feel myself starting to crumble.  What can I say?  I told God that I'll let him lead the doctor's decision.

But really God?  

Again?  

No break?

*deep sigh*  

My limbs have no strength.  Here I go, another round.  God, you call it.  You promised me I can play with the kids at the Summer Paintball Event.  I don't know how, but I know that in you, anything is possible. I will trust in your faithfulness.  I dread my future, but to walk with you is better than me walking my own path.  I commit to submitting to your will... But God, you know I'm really hating this chemo right?

Noel and I sit for two hours, waiting for my scheduled chemotherapy session.  I flop in my chair; my small black backpack supports my head, my legs drape over the opposing armrest.  At least this is comfy!  The sun beats down, I'm starting to sweat.  Okay, maybe a little too warm here.

Just as I prepare to move, a nurse calls out my name: "Kristy Cheng Esporo?"

"Here."  I wave my hand to get her attention.

"Are you waiting for your port to be de-accessed?  You know that your chemotherapy was canceled right?"

What?!?  "My port wasn't accessed this morning, we were just waiting for the chemo."

Three minutes later, my phone rings.  The PA (physician's assistant) is on the phone.  "Hi Kristy?  You know that your chemo is canceled right?  Your morning's blood test shows that your ANC (absolute neutrophil count) is 0.5, too low for us to give you any chemotherapy treatments.  Go home today and take the Neulasta injection to raise your white blood cell levels and we will see you in two weeks for chemotherapy."

Hanging up, I give Noel a huge smile and a thumbs-up.  My heart leaps for joy.  Sweet, no chemo today!  

Thank you, God!  You totally waited to the absolute last moment before notifying me of the cancelation of my treatment.  Not waiting would've been nice, but I'm totally fine with this outcome!

Friday, June 26, 2015

Father God, even without chemo, this week, my strength is up and down.  There were times I felt stronger.  There were also many times my bones hurt, I can feel my heart pounding, my head gets dizzy, eyes loose focus, a sharp sensation shoots from my shoulders to my hips where my muscles almost collapse in pain.  Father, I don't know what's going on with my body, but give me the energy, strength, focus, and spirit to serve those around me with a positive and loving attitude; no holds barred.  

May we as a paintball group be a blessing to all we interact with. Give us the heart to unconditionally serve, teach, love on each other.  I ask that your Spirit shine so bright all will know of your presence.  Bless the communication between all players, especially the captains and lieutenants, even the staff we come into contact with.  Guide the pacing.  Protect the children.  Keep us hydrated. Give us the wisdom to teach, the spirit to love, words to encourage, fellowship, joy, laughter, hope, and growth together as a community.

In Jesus' name, I continue to pray big for this event and expect to see you come through in amazing, wonderful, and totally unexpected ways!  

Now let's PLAY!  <3

Noel and Kristy at Stanford right after getting notified NO chemo!!!

Noel and Kevin preparing pods to paint:

Kristy & Paintball: Leap of Faith

June 14, 2015

Wide stance, squatting low, I readjust the gun in my hands. Shifting the weight of my paintball tank, I settle it into an area just below my right shoulder.  Torso twisted, my gun touches the starting net while my gaze fixates on my goal.  Lower, I push my body weight ever closer towards the ground.  Silent count: one, two, three, go!  I throw my body forward.  My gun twists to the opponents side.  My left foot pounds the ground.  Right foot flies forward shoving me forward.  I'm falling.  Oh shoot I'm falling face first as my right foot catches the ground.  I have to protect my brand new paintball gun!  Instinctively, I flex my right elbow angling the barrel of my gun away from the ground.  Ahhhhh, gotta straighten my knees!  I'm not wearing any padding, if my knees touch the ground first, it's gonna hurt!  Quickly, I duck my head downwards to lower my upper body, stretch out my arms, and allow myself to skid along the ground: forearms first, chest, abdomen, then legs.  So embarrassing!
Picking myself off the ground, I can only think of two positive comments: one, I turned tripping into a successful dive, and two, I protected my gun from getting scratched.  Success!  *sheepish grin* 

Brushing the dirt off my chest, I stand up.  Legs planted a little wider than normal, I balance myself upright as my legs shake from lack of strength.  Drat, I'm so weak!  Guess that means no running for today.  Stumbling a little, I shuffle to the nearest inflatable bunker and position myself to shoot.

*click*

"Good, stand there like that."

Gun up, angle the hopper behind the bunker.  Tuck my elbows tight by my sides.  Plant my feet and twist my them in (smaller target). Squat low, lower.  Focus.  Looking down the side of my gun I search for my opponents.  Any enemies?  Stay sharp.  Keep my body hidden as much as possible.  Be ready to switch from the right side to my left.  Be ready to shoot someone and be shot at. 

*click*

Okay, if you didn't catch it by now, a teammate is taking photos of me posing on the paintball field in my brand new Crimson Rage team jersey with my very first brand new paintball gun.  Yay!  Today is my first day over this past one month that I'm back at the Santa Clara Paintball field.  Actually, it's the first day in a month I'm doing anything active!  Forget the fact I'm not really playing paintball.  Forget the fact that there are no real opponents and the field is empty of people.  I'm enjoying the air, the sounds, my environment, even the feels of preparing to shoot someone. *wide grin*  Bloodthirsty ain't I?

Unofficial photo shoot complete, we leave the field.  I feel satisfaction with killing imaginary opponents, getting the opportunity to start breaking in my new gun, learning my current physical status.  I have many areas to to address: physical strength, speed, balance, positioning, techniques, accuracy.... the list is never-ending.  Well, more like there are always areas to improve in.  I'll always be assessing and tuning my physical capabilities, my attitude, my technique, increasing my knowledge, and the most important bit is I'm having so much fun!

Laying in bed, home again after another forced hospital admission, I stare at the calendar. Today is June 18th; I just got home yesterday.  How come my time at the paintball field, only 4 days ago, feels like a whole different part of my life?

I received two more units of blood on June 15th and started the newest chemotherapy (Eribulin) which left me with erratic fevers, headaches, weakness, sore throat and a very high heart rate. No one is sure what the cause is.  Not likely the blood transfusion. Maybe the chemo?  The alcohol in the chemo that I'm allergic to? Combo?  *shrug*  All I can say for sure is that my current resting heart rate is 100-110s.  Simple activities such as standing up or picking up socks from the ground jump my heart rate into the 140-150 range.  *shudder*  

I've worked as a physical therapist in the cardiopulmonary department; I know I'm pushing close to the limits of being safe if I increase my activity levels.  With my current heart rate, what paintball?  I'm more likely to jump out of bed, get dizzy, and put my head down to minimize blacking out or completely loosing my balance.  *deep sigh*

On the other hand, as I was praying last week, I felt and still feel God confirming that I will be able to completely participate in the upcoming church paintball event on June 27th.  With me living in one hospital after another every week this month, where does my unfounded confidence come from?  All I can say is that God's given me assurance in my heart and peace in my mind that he will intervene no matter how bad things are now.  Beyond my faith in God, I have nothing else to base the conviction I have in my full participation on the coming paintball event.

But not just my confidence in making it to the paintball event; the planning, group organizing, logistics... If I don't make it to the field, execution of the event will be more difficult, but not impossible.  I believe in delegation, communication, and training the next generation to take over.  A huge thanks to Kevin Wang and Joshua Wang for making this event possible as Noel and I lean on the both of you!  

Talk about jumping off a cliff; I expect and need God to step in. My body as it is now lays weak and motionless in bed.  Under my own power, I'm not able to walk a block much less run, crawl, shoot, and carry equipment.  By God's power and his promise, I will be living proof that for the one day God's provided, I will be fully functioning.  Doesn't matter if I crash afterwards, I know that in the name of Jesus Christ, this is a blessing my Father in Heaven will bless me with.

If you have time, come see for yourself what God can do!  I dare you and I dare myself to see God in action!  *wide grin* 

Flipping to the other side of my head, I keep telling myself "this paintball event is God's event!  He will provide who comes."  Then I get scared.  Sure there is some interest in the event, a couple people have requested information... but the reality is that besides the team captains and lieutenants, we have absolutely no one officially sign up 7 days before this paintball event.  

I gnaw on my lips with worry.  What if no one comes?  What if no one signs up?  We promised Santa Clara Paintball that there will be 40 people.  Right now, we have 7 advanced players ready to serve and no one to serve.  *stress*  

I'm scared. But this is God's event.  But I'm still scared.  God promised I can be there at this event so he's gotta provide people to serve right?  But what if he doesn't?  What if I heard God wrong and everything is all foolishness in my head?  Where did my brash confidence disappear to?  Inside, I'm completely defeated; I feel crushed.

Father God, you, who are all-powerful... will you hear my plea? Even after seeing you in action and boasting of your great works, something as small as numbers stump me.  I freeze in fear I hear you wrong.  I shudder at shouting of your greatness, not knowing how you choose to provide, but then cringe at my timidity in asking you to provide players to play and serve each other at our annual church paintball event.  Lord, you have continued to provide both the advanced players as well as the beginner players of all levels for 8 years... so why do I start doubting you now?

Forgive me, Lord, for my lack of faith.  You said, “Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move.  Nothing will be impossible for you.” (Matthew 17:20 NIV)

Lord, I want that faith as tiny as a mustard seed!  Give me the boldness to trust in your goodness.  Give me courage to pray publicly for great things.  Give me the confidence that you love me so much that you will step in regardless of my selfish requests and provide better than I can ever dream of.  Help me ask for big things so that I can see you provide even bigger!

Father God, Lord Jesus Christ, Holy Spirit; I want to show the world that you are real, that even in this day and age, you work miracles.

In Jesus' name, I ask these things for next Saturday's June 27th Church Paintball Event:

• Bring 40 players to this paintball event
• A referee who is kind, hard-working, meshes well with our group, approachable, and willing to work with us to smoothly run the event
• Protect all participants from moderate to severe injury as well as dehydration
• Have everyone in good health and able to play to their heart's content
• Provide enough food, water, snacks
• Give everyone the heart to help one-another, a positive attitude, joy in playing both with and against each other
• Properly working equipment: nothing broken, jammed or irreparable on the field
• Nothing gets lost, stolen, or misplaced
• Stress-free collection and organization of money, people, transportation, anything else
• For all participants to have fun and the day be filled with laughter
• Main request: your sovereign presence throughout the planing, execution and closure of this event

Lord, help me to release the control of this paintball event, all the details, my health into your all-powerful hands.  Regardless if I get another round of chemotherapy this coming Monday, I trust that my medical care and physical body reactions are all in your hands.

As I trust my life in your care, help me to trust you with events out of my control.  Give me, Noel, Kevin Wang and Joshua Wang wisdom, courage, tenacity, strength, boldness, kindness, gentleness, peace, joy, and hope as we learn to seek you first in this paintball event and first in our lives.

Lord, I thank you that you are greater than everything.  I ask that you again step in and show your provision so that this paintball event can be a "success" in all senses of the word.

In Jesus' name I pray, amen. 

June 5th video update regarding my chemo: 

http://youtu.be/HiCvMmx3NAY

Kristy shooting imaginary opponents on the paintball field (June 14, 2015):

https://youtu.be/Pb2aIpgm4q8

Stuck at Stanford Hospital

Wednesday, May 27, 2015: Stanford for scheduled blood draw

Just wanted to let you all know that the docs admitted me at Stanford today because they were worried about my low red blood cell level, high fevers (103F), potential GI bleed, and even considered abdominal surgery. 

The surgeon who checked on me today was the same one who helped perform my last abdominal surgery in 2013.  He totally remembered me and even got a little emotional seeing me back in... but he was able to pass on the message that I'm physically very capable and strong so the staff gives me more leeway.  Praise Jesus for providing not-so-random meetings!

Surgeon's verdict: no huge abdominal surgery right this minute.  Why?  The bad news is because surgical removal of my masses will result in so much resection of my intestines that I'll end up with multiple poopy bags!😱 So surgery is last resort even though my masses almost doubled again since 6 weeks ago (5x5 for the largest mass).  

I'm being well protected by God in Stanford with my crazy allergies, especially my unique sensitivity to alcohol (not the alcohol itself that can evaporate, but something linked with it?).  Every lab draw and every IV line switch that requires cleaning is dangerous for me. So far not a single accident has occurred.  For me, this is a miracle in and of itself!  Nowadays, everything has alcohol: cleaning pads, hand wipes, IV line green caps (Curos caps), surface wipes, and even hidden within medications.  Each step of the way, God has and is continuing to prevent any alcohol from contacting my body.  Yay!!!

I'm here, stuck in Stanford, for 5 days now.  I now have a drain hanging out the right side of my abdomen with a little plastic bulb to create negative pressure to suction out the fluid.  It's pretty neat!  I've learned that if my abdomen hurts, I request my drain be flushed with saline (probably reduces the bacteria) and all the pain goes away without additional medications.

I'm on Zosyn, IV antibiotic, but my fevers continue.  The doctors added IV Vancomycin which resulted in my face flushing hot red and my chest getting itchy.  First dose stopped, but pharmacy thought the reaction was from pushing the medication too quickly.  Second trial of  Vancomycin given at a slower rate resulted in difficulty breathing, my entire face and chest itching, face burning and fire behind my eyes... 50mg Benedryl later as my symptoms start calming down, I'm told that the night doctor wants me to continue with Vancomycin and more Benedryl.

What?!?!

"No."  I will NOT take anymore Vancomycin.  This is ridiculous!  Out of all the antibiotics out there, there's gotta be other options that won't knock me down.  25mg Benedryl makes me cross-eyed.  Even more Benedryl and fighting allergy symptoms is not my idea of a beneficial healing process!

I know the doctors are trying to protect me.  With the Zosyn alone, my fevers got so high it resulted in rigors, severe uncontrollable shivering with me feeling super cold.  Each time, I fought to control my breathing, protect my tongue away from my teeth and minimize the convulsive spasming.  A great workout.  After 45 minutes of shaking: my muscles ache, my hands tremor with fatigue, and back hurts.  Kind of weird.  My body is only a fraction under my voluntary control, I'm trapped inside my head, but at least I can gasp out single-syllable replies.  Not my most looked for activity of the day, week, or ever again in my life!

Thank you God that the daytime doctors agreed with my decision to not continue Vancomycin!  Thank you, Lord, for  providing another antibiotic, Zyvox, that my body is easily tolerating.  Thank you for taking away the crazy sweat-dripping fevers, the severe fatigue, the pounding headaches, my uncontrollable muscle spasms, my inability to breath deeply, my mist-clouded mind, my gut-wrenching pain that would immobilize me and so much more.

Thank you God for helping the doctors find the seropurulent abscess hidden amongst my tumors.  Thank you that the medical staff cares enough not to take my allergies for granted.  Thank you that when my body spasmed out of control, you provided people nearby to help when I couldn't call out for help or hit the nursing call button.  Thank you for the favor you've given me in the sight of all the staff and doctors. Thank you for helping me be able to bless others even when I don't feel well.  Thank you for your Spirit in me that enables me to smile, be patient and love on others even when everything seems to fall apart.  Thank you for getting me through 3 days of not eating without biting someone's head off (I really hate being hungry)!

Heheheheee...God's blessing me everywhere I go so I'm spoiled by lots of nice ppl. Yay!!! Praise the Lord!

These past couple of days, I'm learning again and again to trust in God for my health, my attitude, my emotional status, my physical capabilities, my allergies.... trusting that even when things go very wrong, nothing is out of God's control.  Everything that scares me being in a hospital: minimal choices, limited option, restrictions, lack of privacy, living with a noisey roommate, the service I receive, the food I eat... I can control none of it and the lack of control freaks me out!

Please pray that my heart stays soft and receptive to MD orders instead of me being stubborn thinking "I know how this should be" or "I want this."  Pray that God will use me as a light in the hospital so much his Spirit shines undeniably by my actions, words, attitude and "the God factor!"

Love you all lots!

K

Choices: 1st round of chemotherapy

Hot air rushes past dry crackling lips.  I desperately attempt to fill my lungs with fresh air.  Sucking.  Chest expanding.  It's no use.  Nothing changes.  I lay in bed, panting, trying to get air, but can't seem to slow down my breathing enough to take a deep breath.  Heart pounding, I can feel the blood pulsing through my limbs.  I take a quick assessment of my body: hot, probably fever; twitch my fingers, maybe the smallest movement only noticeable to me; open my eyes, just enough to glimpse a sliver of light.  What happened to all my motor functions?

*click*

I hear the front door.  Yay, Noel's parents are here!  Excited, I attempt to call out a greeting.  Nothing.  Soundless, my lips barely move.  Air flows quickly, but no sound comes out.  I try again.  Failure.

What should I do?  I'm all here in my head, but my body doesn't obey my commands.  I have no sense of time.  I'm unable to move, to speak.  Interesting ideas are coming to mind about how to draw attention: throwing my seal plushie down the stairs, knocking over my water bottle... Yeah, if only I can move.

*rumble*
               *squeak*

Ah, Noel's home!  Anticipating him checking in on me, I prepare to go all out and catch his attention!  Air hisses out my throat, but no recognizable sounds.  Furiously I attempt to roll out of bed... my foot moves one inch, maybe less.  My hand, a slight vibration through the bed, but no sound.  Panting, I lay, still in the same position I've been in all day.

Helpless I lay trapped under heavy comforters.  I listen to Noel greet his parents, go back outside to clean his paintball gear, then come back inside.  *clink*  I hear metal utensils clanking on the food bowl... Noel's probably eating.

Hello... I try to call out.  But again, I can only produce the same panting breath as before.

I don't know how much time has past until I feel a slight vibration through the bed.  Is that steps on the stairs?  Noel?  I hear a person creep silently to my side, probably trying not to wake me.

Look!  I'm awake!  Look harder!

Hot air continues to flow in quick bursts between my lip.  I still don't have control.  In frustration, I feel burning tears slide down my face.

"Why are you crying?"

I try to answer, but nothing comes out.  I feel my tears flow faster.

A rough and cool finger wipes away my tears; first my right eye, then my left.  New tears flow out.  I think my pillow is starting to get wet.  This is embarrassing.

I feel my body pulled partially upright.  I'm dead weight, I can't move a single muscle to help.  A wet spoon touches my lips and pours soup into my mouth.  I attempt to swallow and choke instead.  After a couple more failed attempts with the spoon, I mouth "straw."  Straw in hand, Noel holds my head up.  I still choke three or four times, but at least the fluid is going down the right tube.

Noel cradles my head.  I'm finally able to open my eyes.  Gently, he brushes his face near mine, "Don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry."  I didn't mean to.  I didn't feel good, I hurt, got really hungry and then I couldn't move at all.  I'm scared too... I've never been trapped alert in my body before.  It sucks.


Father God, I don't remember much of these past couple days, but I acknowledge everything is in your control.  Thank you for providing Noel the ability to work at home when I  first needed care.  Thank you that Noel's parents are willingly staying over these past couple of days to cook, clean, check up on me, literally feed me, carry my to and from the house to the car for my acupuncture appointment, feed the cats... So much, Lord God, am I blessed by your provision when I can do absolutely nothing on my own.

Fevers rage. Pain immobilizes me.  Strength is nonexistent.  Air, a difficult to acquire commodity.  I lay in bed; tossing in discomfort when I can, freezing in pain or sometimes writhing to find a more comfortable position.  I pant for air and claw at the bed.  My mind is glazed, time flows on.

Every day is a battle.  Do I choose to follow my doctor's advice and continue injecting the Neupogen that's supposed to protect me but also causes fevers in the 102+ range, uncontrolled by Tylenol and requires me to constantly take Benedryl to ward off my allergic reactions?  Just one more day.  Keep going.  Can I eat enough to maintain my weight without getting nauseous?  I've lost 5 pounds now,  but I make sure that I eat every 1-2 hours I'm awake.  Exercise?  Forget it.  I'm lucky that I can even use the restroom without falling over.


Lord God, even in this time, I know that you're with me because you promised to be.  In you I trust; no more and no less.  Because I acknowledge you, Father God, Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit as sovereign Lord of my life and my household, I trust the stability of my health in your hands.  By choosing to follow doctor's orders, I am choosing to follow your lead.  As I send Noel off to serve in Bigfoot youth retreat, a huge part of me wants my husband by my side, but when it comes to serving you, may nothing... not my health nor personal wishes interfere.  So Lord, for these next 4 days and 3 nights, I entrust my husband, myself, Noel's parents all into your all-powerful hands.  May our attitudes and decisions bring you complete glory for we serve you first... beyond ourselves and even our families... to you and for you, Oh Lord, may you truly always come first.

In Jesus' name I pray, amen.



Here's a pic of my first chemo infusion of Dacarbazine... it's cold!

Now it Starts: Port Surgery

Am I ready?

Yes.  No.  I don’t know anymore.  Well, either way, I’m here at my workplace.  It’s 6:15am.  I’m starting the process by registering at admitting, then off I go to radiology for a port placement.  What’s that you ask?  The port is a small chamber placed in my chest with a small tube that goes around my collarbone, into my vein, and stops at the entrance of my heart.  Supposedly, this is for the purpose of quick easy access for chemotherapy, blood draws, etc.  *shrug*  Each step of the way, I have the option of saying “stop.”  Will I do so?  Probably not.

I like to push the limits of what’s considered “normal.”  In my head, choosing local anesthesia is scary because I’ll be awake for the procedure, but I’m curious.  I _like_ to know what’s going on around me.  I like the concept that I can jump off the surgery table right after the procedure and go to work right away.  I hate taking medications and I really dislike not having control.  Local anesthesia it will be!  This way, I also don’t have to go hungry.  This point is very important.  *wide grin*  Hey, don’t laugh!  For me, I really like to eat and I’m never comfortable going hungry. 

Sorry, I’m rambling.  Guess my nervousness is showing.  I’m in full control, but to lay on a table and let someone I don’t know cut into my skin… now that doesn’t seem sane to me.  *sigh*

I can feel my heart pounding.  My breath quickens as I anticipate the near future.   

Stop.   

Breathe in.  Hold.  

Breathe out.  Pause.   

Repeat. 

God, my life is in your hands.  Whatever happens, I leave to you.  If you choose to stop the placement of this port, please feel free to go ahead.  If you want to stop the infusion of chemotherapy meds, even at the last moment, I’d welcome that too! 

Father God, I know you have a plan for my life.  The reason I’m going through with this chemotherapy thing isn’t because I believe that it will cure me, but because I want to live the life you’ve set for me so that you will shine.  I don’t care if everything falls apart… well, I do care, but at the same time, you are more important than my life and so I want to choose a life that puts you on display. 

Father God, to your will, so be it.  My life, my future, my dreams are yours.  Please use me so that I can see more of you.

*prick*  Ah, in goes the IV.  *shrug*  I can feel the nurse fiddling with the line; I've seen this so many times already… anything else of interest to look at?  Glancing around, I feel a rushing ache in the upper back of my throat.  Alcohol?  Whipping my head around, I catch a glimpse of an open alcohol pad used to wipe the syringe just before connecting it to my IV line.  Yup, that was alcohol alright.  Good thing I planned ahead and took Benadryl first thing this morning.  Doesn't matter how many times I warn people, my alcohol allergy is so unusual that almost all cleaning processes use it in hospital settings.

Trickles of cold liquid run down my left neck, into my armpits, down my sides.  What's going on now?  Rolling my head to the left, I watch as a staff member runs a cold swab dripping with betadine to circle my left chest, once, twice, three times over. Ewwww, this feels gross!  The lady directs me to turn my head to the right and keep it there.  Cold and wet, the substance is used to coat my neck as well.  *shudder*  Cold fluid through the IV line and cold sticky fluid.... Ahhh, gotta stop thinking about the cold.  I just need to ignore the discomfort.  I hate being cold!  What else can I focus on?

"Close your eyes."

Huh?

Next thing I know, a large blue sterile sheet presses against my face.  Some paper jabs near my eye.  A rustle of paper, then I feel the sticky edges of the drape being pressed onto my left chest.  Cold, sticky, foam-padded… what?  Oh, the person is applying the drape, pulling it off my skin, then reapplying it; this process is repeated many times until the person decides the positioning is just right.  Ummm, normally not so bad when someone's sedated, but definitely not the type of care catered to someone who's awake and alert.   Does anyone realize how cold and how sticky and how painful just the set-up process can be?  Probably not.  I'm not even gonna bother focusing on the what it's going to be like when they remove the tape used to stretch out my skin.  *deep sigh*  Medical practices are practical, not comfortable.

I can't see anything but blue. Suddenly, bright light pours into my eyes as the drape is lifted off my face and tied up.  Ahhh, I can see the wall again.  Is that a slight reflection of the room against plastic panels?  Yup, I can see outlines of people moving around.  Cool!   Too bad I can't see the procedure.  *sniffle*

"This is the not fun part okay?  It's going to feel like you're getting pinched like this."  *sharp pinch*

Thanks for the warning… I think?

I feel the needle stab deep past my skin.  Lidocaine is injected.  The needle gets partially pulled back and stabbed in at different angles.  I guess it's getting numb... Somehow this round, I can still feel all the places the needle is inserted... I don't remember that being the case last time.  *shrug*  I'm not going to give them any reason to regret letting me stay awake!

A nurse comes up with her hands outstretched, "Do you want to hold my hand?"

"It's okay.  I'm fine.  Thanks."  I'm too busy clenching my right hand in a fist and keeping my left side relaxed.  Honestly,  I don't think I can relax enough to grab her hand. 

"Okay, now you should only feel some pressure.  No pain."

I feel the scalpel run across my chest.  Once.  Twice.  "Ummmmm, I can feel the scalpel."

"Really?  I gave you enough lidocaine that you shouldn’t feel this.  Okay, I'll inject some more."

Again, the sharp pinch as the needle dives deep into my tissue.  Still, I can feel the pressure of the fluid being injected into my body.  Once.  Twice.  Three times. I can feel the excess liquid trickling down the side of my chest.

"Okay, that should be enough to numb the area."

Again, I feel the scalpel run across my left chest.  This time, I decide not to say anything.  I can tolerate pain.  As the surgeon cuts deeper, I stop being able to feel the sharp edges of the scalpel.  Maybe the local anesthetic is finally working?  Whatever, it's better for me to stay quiet than to make comments.  If they really wanted to know how effective their treatments are on an alert person, they'd ask.

*stab* Ouch!  This is the part I hate most!!!  Strong pressure.  Choking sensation.  A hard lump-in-my-throat type feel.  Lovely.  A small guide wire followed by a flexible tube is probably being inserted into my vein with the end near my heart.

*yank*  Huh?  My whole body is being dragged up and down almost to the point where I'm starting to shift on the table top. What's going on?

"I need to break through the old scar tissue from your prior port’s scar to create a pocket for this new port."

Finally, all the rough motions settle down.  Yes, I'm almost done!  I can clearly feel the needle jabbing into my skin, the thread sliding with some resistance through my tissue.  Almost there!  My skin gets pinched closed while a gel-like material is applied... I think this must be the skin glue.  Even if I can't see, I can feel the small foam-like tip dabbing against my skin.  Steri-strip for extra protection, 2x2 gauze, large tegaderm.

Freedom! 

I'm so happy the procedure is done that when given permission to climb off the table, I skip the small step and hop down.  Almost prancing now that the ordeal is done, I look forward to changing clothes and returning to work!  YAY!

Father God, thank you for helping me make it through the procedure!  For me, the unknown can be scarier than pain; however, whatever happens, Lord, I know you are in complete control so I really have nothing to worry about.  Discomfort, pain... All that's temporary.  But you, oh Lord, are eternal.  Even if things go wrong, I believe that if you absolutely didn't want it to happen, it won't.  Lord, with you always by my side, I can be completely nonchalant.  I can push the limits knowing you'll warn me when I go too far.  Father God, in your presence, I have no deep worries.  Yes I am unsure of my future, but I am completely confident that you will step-in when I can't deal with things anymore.  In the meantime, I'll enjoy what I have and what I can still do.  I am self-assured, not in my abilities nor in my own power, but in yours.  I know that you are God eternal, promise-keeper, true to character and love me so much I get spoiled.  In you, regardless of circumstances, I have peace, joy and hope unending.

Thank you, God, for redeeming and using the bad stuff in my life for your glory.  Thank you that I can look forward because of your steadfastness so that I don't get trapped in the darkness of my upcoming chemotherapy.   

Trials.  Unknown future.  Test subject.  Lord, to you, I am none of these things.  In you, the fact I get to dwell in your presence is a given.  I am content.

Lord God, Jesus, Holy Spirit... Give me the strength to fix my eyes only on you.  Help me see the end-goal and not the temporary struggles of this life.  May my life, my choices, my words, my attitude be what it is because I have you carrying me forward.  Continue to bless me so I can see you in action!  Keep my heart from straying away from you.  In this lifetime, show me that just having you is truly enough.

In Jesus' name I pray, amen.

Please pray for my physical safety, strength, wisdom with managing symptoms, a good attitude, stability in my body...  stuff like that.  If God wills it, I start my clinical trial of chemotherapy tomorrow morning on May 13, 2015.

For following my blog, for reading my life story, for your wholehearted support, for your love and prayers... I know I am beyond blessed to have you walking with me through this life.  *Super big hug*  Thank you!  (^o^)/