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

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^)/

Port Away!

I’m so excited!

God, I’m finally getting this port out of my chest today.  I ask that you provide the same person who placed this port in my body to be the same person who takes it out.  I ask that you help the procedure go smoothly.  Guide the medical staff to hear and remember that I only want local anesthesia and not to be sedated (recovery time takes longer).  Help my body to not have any negative reactions and please provide minimal scarring over time.  Father God, also can you provide so that I don’t cough during the procedure?  I think I’m coming down with a cold, but I don’t want to delay the removal of this port; please manage any coughing or symptoms that I may have.  In Jesus' name I pray, amen.

Shiver.  That's cold!

A sponge containing a bright orange chemical runs across my upper chest.  Left to right and then left again.  Excess fluid trickles down the outside of my left arm.  Up my neck, wet and slighty sticky, I feel the sponge coating everywhere and anywhere around my potential surgical site.  The port’s on the left side of my chest.  Wait, why in the world is this lady applying the antiseptic cleaner all the way to my right chest?  *mental shrug*  Whatevers, at least they’re letting me stay awake for this procedure!

Surprisingly weighty, a large blue paper and plastic sheet is placed on my abdomen.  Unfolding the cover, a medical personnel extends the sheet up and over my head.  Now, all I see is a lot of blue.  A large hand reaches under the cover and something is removed.  Firmly pressing down, I feel sticky adhesive plastic applied to my left chest.  I’m guessing that this is a sterile blue sheet with an adhesive window for the surgical procedure.  Crumpling upwards, the blue is lifted away from my face so I can peek out and breathe.  Too bad I can’t see anything… they have my head turned to the right as they work on my left chest. 

Bummer.

Stab.  Prick.  I feel the needle injecting lidocaine into my left chest area. Bit by bit, I feel the pricks less and less.  Quiet.  A slight tugging sensation.  What’s going on?  Oh, the scalpel is cutting an incision over the port.  A little discomfort then a small tug… guess that’s the port coming out.

Stitch.  Stitch.  Stitch.  Dermal glue.  Finished!  The blue drape is pulled away from my face, chest and body; rolled into a massive ball and thrown into the garbage.  Procedure complete!

Hurray!

Back in the recovery room: a quick check-up, change of clothes, paperwork signing and final care instructions.  I just remember nodding my head to instructions about ice for the swelling, use of pain meds, how to shower and care for my incision… in one ear and out the other.  I have no intention of icing the incision because excessive icing can delay wound closure (inflammation is not always bad when it comes to healing).  Pain meds… I have no intention of taking any, I can easily distract myself by doing something to keep myself occupied (plus, I don't trust my body with meds right now... any meds are likely to de-stabilize my body).  Shower?  The dermal glue is present so the wound area is sealed so long as I don’t pick at it, it’ll come off in a week or two.  Done, now I can finally eat!  *wide grin*

Father God, thank you for providing such accommodating medical staff to my multiple requests and endless questions.  Thank you that I was able to get my port removed even faster than the original scheduled time and out a lot quicker than the staff expected.  Thank you for managing the pain and swelling so that I can basically ignore the incision site.  Lord, even though it seems insignificant, thank you that I can wear my normal bras again without the strap aggravating my port site.  Thank you that soon, I won’t have to worry about accidently scratching the skin over a protruding port.  Thank you that during the surgical procedure, I did not need to cough at all!

Lord Jesus, I want to go back to work again!  I worked full-time 4 days last week, was off this Monday for the port removal and now have been off sick from work with a cold.  Please heal my body, my throat and clear my nose so I can breathe easier, talk clearly, stop hacking and not sniffle.

In Jesus’ name I give thanks for these extra days of rest and increased physical stability, amen.

Just wanted to say that God is really awesome!  This cold of mine was delayed until _after_ my port removal.  I also celebrated my brother, Winston's, birthday (on his birthday) Monday evening with my entire family!  Yes, having a cold sucks... and I feel bad about not being able to go in to work... but I'm getting better again.  Can't wait to start serving again in my workplace!  The energy, excitement, constant adaptation and purposeful work... it's awesome.  I feel very blessed to have the opportunity to serve in such a great work envirmonment.  I raise my hands in praise to my Lord Jesus for so many many awesome blessings!

May you be blessed this week to see how great and fulfilling work and life and family  truly is.  Love ya, Kristy.  =D

Winston's birthday celebration with my family:

A New Day

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Day blurs into night... then it's day again.  I'm finally home!  Hurray!!!!  I'm ecstatic!

Sleeping a maximum of 2-3 hours, learning to juggle new aches with Advil and Tylenol.  No.... no Vicodin, Percocet or any of the more potent pain medications please... those make my head feel fuzzy!  A single day consists of eating, napping, and running to the bathroom.  Sounds like a baby right? That's how I feel... like I've regressed into a 6-month old:  I roll, I sit, I eat, I poop, I sleep.  Fun huh?

This new body of mine is very different.  I'm trying to incorporate my knowledge of medicine, physical therapy, nutrition, wound healing, research online...  option after option I consider, but is it enough?

I've lost over 10 pounds and my weight is still dropping.  My muscle mass is significantly less than pre-surgery!  *sniffle*  My arms are so scrawny... where are my biceps and triceps?  Okay, okay... it's not like I had that muscle to start with.  *sheepish grin*  Heheheeee... then let me try something else!  I step up the stairs two steps at a time... muscle cramping and breathing short, I pause at the top... slightly dizzy... very weak.  Drat!  This is NOTHING like after my first two abdominal surgeries.  Grrrrrrrr... the first two surgeries were a cake-walk compared to this round!

These past 2-3 days, I try eating more meat, more protein, nutrition shakes, fruit, carbohydrates, even celery... nothing seems to work.  What goes in ends up coming out pretty quick.  This sucks... I may as well be chained to a toilet.  *deep sigh*

Father God... what do you want of me?  What  can I do with this broken body of mine? How can I continue to serve?

Lord Father, I'm stuck... and I'm really scared.  The pain is nothing.  I can deal with pain!  Today, I challenged myself to not take any pain medicines... I'm more achy, but I can deal with it.  What I don't know is how to deal with eating, drinking, pooping.  Each day is a new day, a day of hope, of potential change, of new things or methods to try, of more training!  Lord, give me wisdom!  I don't want to waste this body you've given me, but I also don't know what to do.  These new changes are scary, very difficult for me to accept/handle, and totally life-changing!

Help!

Lord, Father God, even in the midst of this new challenge, I thank you for always providing.  I don't know where things are going to go or how you plan to work through my life, but I still see you moving!  Financially, you are still providing... food, you still provide... even a working vacuum-cleaner and random supplies... Lord, all this you continue to provide for my needs.  I don't know where you're going with my life and I have absolutely no idea how you're going to lead me... but Lord, I trust that your provisions are not given in vain... that even in this time and this place, you have a journey set for me and I don't want to miss it!

So Lord, where I go... where I can go with this body of mine... I completely leave in your care.  If I can step no further than 10 feet from a restroom, then so be it.  If I can again travel hours at full-strength, then so be your will.  Lord, I only ask that this trial.... this challenge I go through will not be in vain. May my hope always be in you, Father God.  Use me, Lord, use my life and my story so that your very name will be glorified.

In Jesus' name, I offer my hope, my life and my plea to you, Father God... grow me, bless me, use me, heal me.  Amen.

Pre-Surgery Video

Pre-Surgery Video

Hello Everyone!  Above is my video I took before surgery.  Thanks Stephen for putting it together for me!

Enjoy!
Kristy

Surrgery Update

Surgery date:  Thursday, August 1, 2013 at approximately 11am?

Surgery Update:  5-6 hour surgery.  Midway through, colorectal specialists called in to assist.  Single large tumor on my small/large intestine junction (removed along with appendix and then reconnected), many many tumors on my sigmoid portion of my large intestines so about 7 inches removed from there.  Other little tumors imbedded in the fascia (soft tissue) of my abdomen... those found, all removed.

Current State

Overwhelming pain. Tenderness at the incision  site.  A doctor attempts to palpate my abdomen... Surprising both her and myself, I grab her hand... hard.  I don't think I've ever grabbed someone so fast and so firmly before.  Lady, that hurt!  In return, I was told that that's why I got the PCA pump for self-administering morphine.  Grrrrrrrrrrr...  If the morphine alone worked, you think I'd be jumping so much?  Unable to speak or think clearly, I'm very happy the doctors decide to add Toradol and IV Tylenol to my pain regiment. *foggy relief*  (That took over a day to work out!)

Half the pain is gone... Now I'm stuck with a head filled with cotton.  The meds take the edge off my pain... On the other hand, I'm left in a drowsy, happy happy, agreeable and barely functioning state!  Over and over again, my eyes drift shut.  I dose, but don't sleep.  Eyes popping wide open... what time is it?  Oh, only 3 minutes have past.  Eyes droop shut... Darting open, what time is it?  Did an hour pass... an hour and a half?  Hopeful, I stare at the clock.  That can't be right... only 8 minutes have passed?  *deep sigh*  How much longer will this torture go?  I'm tired... so very tired of this endless cycle of pain.

Restless legs.  Head filled with fog.  Swirling vision.  Discomfort.  Frustration bound in a tight ball.  Irritation held under wraps.  Spinning energy with no outlet... just give me something to punch, a place to pedal... something, anything!   Arghhhhhhh!  Bruised hands, wrists, arms... needle sticks gone wrong, more needle sticks for testing blood, shots of heparin to prevent blood clots... oximeter tied to my finger, I slip off, they replace.  Blood pressure check every two hours.  My every movement is monitored and recorded like a bug under the microscope!  I really REALLY dislike not having control over my own decisions!

This endless monotonous life.  Seeing myself balanced on a thin line... one side is life and hope and being mentally being present.  There is pain and change and challenges to face.  The other side is nothing, emptiness... a place and time separate from this world where I have no history, no name, no struggle, no will... easy.  In fear, I calculate... if I fall into this secondary world, I can never get out.  Like my great aunt who stayed too long in a care home and gave up, she never quite got her mind back... that's what I'd be if I chose this step... I'd be in a deep, dark, comfortable pit where nothing could touch me, all the pain rolls off and I'm safe.  Dark and alluring... tempting... I tilt just a little to that side until WAIT... if I choose to fall into that route, I will never come back sane.  I can't do that!  I don't want to be comfortably trapped and safe.  Why am I even thinking this way?  This is so not like me!  *cold shiver*  

Shouting in my head:

God, where are you?!!?!?!!!  I'm so numb with drugs that I've lost all sense of myself, of time, of challenges, of hope, of life.  Help me gain a foothold, Lord God, give me firm ground to stand and a clear direction to strive for!  I can deal with pain.  I can deal with fatigue.  Haven't I done all that and more already?  What's so different this time?  What's this sensation of giving up I've so rarely faced... what's happening to me?

Lord Father, I'm scared.  I'm here and I'm not here.  My body is here but my mind is so clouded I have the hardest time even looking straight at someone as they speak to me.  Where are you God?  Where is my light given by your spirit?  I can handle the dark, but this distorted landscape is worse than anything I could ever imagine.  How can I stay sane and stay stuck to you?  Help me Father as only you can!  This is a struggle I don't know how to even voice... help me break through to who you created me to be.  I am not a puppet.  I am not a doll only going through motions to please others.  I hate this fog, my vacant smile, my barely returned replies.  What happened to my motivation?  What happened to my strength?  What  happened to my life?  Where are my goals and hope?  I want it back!

Being in a hospital can be so cold Lord.  Physically cold, yes.  But even more so, there are people so into protocol and numbers that my words don't make it through!  To these... I'm a statistic, a number, a job, money.  To others, they actually see me, hear me, take the time to listen to what I say and what I mean.

Thank you Lord that I get to go home Tuesday afternoon!  Thank you for softening the doctor's hearts to let me out of this soft prison.  The pain, the pooping and farting... the crap stuff I literally may have to deal with... Lord, I give into your hands and ask for mercy!  

In Jesus' name I plead for my Father God's mercy, grace, and provisions.  Amen.

Before Surgery

At work:

What do you like?
Ummmmm... kettle corn.
Okay, what else?
Chip.
Okay, chips... what else?
Uhhhhh......        *blank*
Fine the, breakfast or lunch?
Lunch... I think?
Hey!  Where did you get that food?  From the truck?  Is it good?
Yeah, let's all eat lunch together and get food from the truck!
Yes!  That sounds great!  Hey everyone, let's eat food from that truck on Tuesday!

Yup!  We're a rowdy group that enjoys good food... and recently... a slew of gross stories!  Many that are related to bugs!  *smirk*

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Today, we celebrate!  This is kind of embarrassing, but... we're celebrating "Kristy Day!"  My friends at work are soooooo cute!  I feel super loved, warm and all fuzzy inside.  Yay!!!

8 different _large_ bags of chips (or was it 9 bags?), 2 bags of kettle corn, flavored Kit-Kats and Pocky flavors that can't be bought in the United States.  *drool* On the side, there was a full spread of cheese, fruit, candy, drinks.  So much yumminess!

This is the demolished chip stash at the end of the day!!!

At lunch, we walk out into the warm sunshine, a group of green scrubbed, blue-gowned, capped and shoe-covered hospital workers to pick-up lunch. Together we shuffle our way towards the construction area where the truck is parked, gather 4 bags of goodies and shuffle our way back inside.  Yummy food!  I grab a little bit of food here, taste test a little over there, much off of another's plate, scoop a bit of soup... YIKES!  There's a LOT of food!  =D

The joy of hanging out together, of celebrating life and work with close friends... I don't have the words to express my joy and my excitement!  Sitting back, I soak in this atmosphere.  Wow, God has really blessed me with wonderful co-workers.  Together, we make a family... able to laugh together, cry together, play tricks on each other and help each other!  I can't imagine myself working anywhere else!


We just started using a cool new (for us) technology at work, a machine that uses ultrasonic waves and water to remove unwanted tissue from wounds.  A little water splashing here, a drip of blood there... and  a beautifully clean wound.  =D  Yes, my thoughts are kind of morbid, but this is what I do at work and I love it!

End of the day:

One by one, my co-workers leave.  I soak in the warmth from gentle hugs, arms wrapped firmly across shoulders and backs.  I have a few ends to tie up,  papers to complete, emails to write, desk to clean... the office becomes quieter and quieter...  background sounds dwindle... first slowly, then quicker and quicker as each person leaves.  In the quiet, I give my desk a final wipe, remove a lonely staple, pack away my flowers, toys, papers.

Looking around, a wave of sadness washes over me.  It's not like I'll be gone from work forever... just 11 weeks.  Eleven weeks sounds too long.  Already, I miss my friends at work.  I miss the laughter, the squeamish-bug stories, the energy, the life and even the work itself.

This is my desk... AFTER I cleaned up!  =O

August 1, 2013


I'm at Stanford...super sleepy.  Tripping over a chair, stumbling to get the internet key code... my brain is filled with a dense fog as I try and finish the blog.


God, I give this procedure up to you, I'm not clear enough to think right now, but I thank you for this life and where I'll go and do after this surgery.  Thank you, Lord God, for your blessings, for your peace and reassurances.  Thank you for all the support, love, encouragement, help, prayers and fun acitivities I've done recently!


In Jesus' name, amen.


See you all later!!!  =D

Upcoming Surgery

Monday, July 8, 2013

Fearing the worst, wishing for the best... that's my mindset for today.  Well, what's so special about today?  I get told whether or not my chemotherapy worked on stabilizing or shrinking my tumors.  This way, I can finalize my plans for the near future.  I'm excited and apprehensive at the same time.

Outcome:  the chemotherapy didn't work.  My tumors are larger in size (the official CT report isn't in so I don't have numbers to offer).

Plan:  Surgery on August 1st at Stanford Hospital... hopefully first thing in the morning.

How do I feel now?  I'm not sure.  Relief that there's a plan set in place.  Excited that I get a vacation after surgery.  Fear of the unknown.  I'm attempting to delve into my own feelings but unable to grasp what emotions are present.  Actually, I feel more blank right now.  I don't have a clear sense of my own reaction to the upcoming surgery and failure of this most recent chemotherapy round.

I do know that as I talk about my upcoming surgery, I strongly lean towards the positives.  I slide quickly from announcing my CT result, to upcoming surgery and then dwell on the benefits after surgery... mainly that the upcoming 2 months of disability from work will result in free-time to play and that this just happens to link up with my planned vacation from work in October!

Looking at my words, I get a sense that the way I talk is a defense mechanism.  Gloss over the hard to talk about unknown and just focus on the practical and positive aspects.  I know that after surgery, there will be pain, recovery will be miserable and movement will be difficult... however, that's just part of any major surgery.  This time, the doctors will have to cut me open even wider to get to the back of my liver.  Lovely.  (sorry, my sarcasm is popping out)

Honestly, I'm not looking forward to the first 2 to 3 weeks right after surgery... from my memories of two prior abdominal surgeries... recovery is not fun.  In fact, initial recovery sucks!  Nausea, pain, constant ache, fatigue, slow and careful movements... every cough is painful, every shift of position in bed is agony.  Nope!  Totally not looking forward to early August.  *deep sigh*

So this is where I am, balancing between two worlds: one beautiful and filled with hope... the other is dark, a churning pit of despair.  So how do I deal with two widely differing emotions?  To prepare for the upcoming battle...  I pray and I sleep.

Lord God, I can change my future by the decisions I make and by the attitude I choose to take.  I am determined not to run away from facing whatever comes.  Instead, Father God, please give me your strength.  Give me hope that comes only from walking with you.  Let your light and all your blessings outshine any difficulties in the coming days.  Father in Heaven... yes, I am scared.  Give me the strength to take just one step forward.  Open my eyes to see your power at work.  Give me peace knowing that you are in full control.  Settle my heart.  Renew the purpose I have in this life... to live fully for you.

In Jesus' name I pray, amen.

Healing...

Right now, the term "healing" is overrated, I feel more drained now than I did when I was in the hospital! *sigh*

I get out of breath and feel my heart pounding in my ears from walking up 14 steps, but this is probably because I can move faster now... I hope.

Sneezing no longer makes me feel like I'm being torn in two with only the stitches holding me together... At least when I sneeze now, it's only an achy feeling. Good! My muscles and skin are finally knitting together. Yay!!!

Today is the 11th day after surgery... The incision looks good (kinda cool where it curves around one side of my belly button)... The cut is measured at 6 inches with 18 stitches... But now it itches like crazy and scratching doesn't seem to work. *sniffle*

It's hard to appreciate where I currently am... My mind is alert and I want to do so much more than my body is capable of. Frustrating! However, compared to when I was in the hospital pumped full of meds, but dizzy and even weaker... I prefer now... I just don't want to get stuck in this stage!

Thank you Lord that I'm getting stronger and progressively my body is healing. Thank you for the knowledge and hope that I won't be stuck in this semi-helpless stage for forever. It feels weird to have others carry stuff for me, but Lord, I'm very very grateful for the friends and family you have brought into my life to support me when I can't support myself!

Father in heaven... I don't know if I have the strength to go through the subversive life activities and week-long fellowship at a friend's home. I'll be away from the comfort of home, away from my couch set-up just right for watching anime *smirk*, with daily long drives in traffic and on bumpy roads... I'm scared. I'm unsure what my body can handle and how I will feel... But Lord, you've provided everything with the most perfect timing (2 weeks off to do backyard stuff that let me get to be at the strongest point in my life, right into the abdominal surgery)... So how can I doubt that at this time and place, your provision will be any less?

Lord Jesus, I ask that as I step once again into uncertainty, that you continue to heal my body, give me physical, spiritual, and emotional strength! I ask that you take care of our cats while Noel and I are gone at night... That the cats won't act up or feel ignored... That they still feel loved and cared for. I pray that Noel and I will have the strength and courage and willingness to serve as you've called us this coming week. Please give us a peaceful and joyful attitude filled with the knowledge of your goodness as we step out of our comfort zones into whatever path you will guide us into and be present in all the conversations we have with the people we will meet.

In Jesus' holy name I pray and ask these things and more, amen.

The little things that aren't so little

Hello everyone!!!

I finally feel focused enough to write. *grin*

On Oct 5th, surgery finally started about 2:30pm (instead of the planned 9am)... I was starving and my mom sits next to me with this huge bag of food and drinks. *drool*. Anyways, when I finally start getting ready for surgery, i get this purple gown that hooks up to a heated air blower called Bair Paw... Technology is awesome!!! I hate being cold and this device kept me so warm that when anesthesiology came to place IVs in me... My blood vessels nicely popped out!*smile*. Little things like that for comfort have really made the difference in helping keep my positive attitude.

After surgery, I remember my sister handing me this HUGE stuffed dog (yes...another super large toy!!!) and it's been a super large blessing because this hospital is always out of pillows...so this large dog named Sammy has kept me both warm, it's legs are great to cuddle me front and back, and the large ears flop perfectly over my eyes to block out the constant light each hospital room has (either from staff leaving the light on when they say "good night" to you, from the hallway light when the door's always left open, or even the constant light from my IV pump).

I still remember my last surgery, not enough blankets, cold air, always shivering... Misery! This time, my mom made my bed with so many blankets and topped it off with another wool blanket my sister gave me from my last surgery... Who knew that a well made bed could be so comfortable, the sheets smooth, and no cold air leaks in! I've not let any of the staff remake my bed... My mom definitely made it the best! *grin*.

Another tidbit for anyone staying overnight at the hospital... The bed's always feel uneven with weird dips, especially under your butt! Playing with my bed, I found the most perfect position... Head of bed up a couple inches and the bed bent up at the knees... Makes the bed fit my body, allows me to rest comfy with no strech in my abdomen to cause discomfort at the incision site, and I can use the bed to help me get up when things are aching a lot. Yay!

Little things really do make a difference! As my gaze roams around a bleak room with pratical tans and green curtains, I see the beautiful flowers given to me by my co-workers and Noel's best friend. It's fun to stare at the different flower shapes, subtle and bold color changes, and varied textures of the flower petals and leaves. God really creates beautiful things... And having that little bit of nature in my room reminds me of God's glory and that Jesus has a plan for me... Exactly where I am, the staff I meet and talk to, the patients I smile at in the hallway, and that I am here to be blessed by others as well as to bless those around me.

Thank you Father in heaven for your favor upon me. I am blessed with a room to myself in a quiet location, staff to talk and laugh with, family and friends to support me, and quick healing. Thank you for helping me deal with discomfort and pain with hope, peace in the knowledge that I will heal, and the strength to keep moving in the face of fear and pain.

Lord God in heaven, I ask that you continue to use my time here on earth to serve you. In both the good times and bad, may I never stray from your side and your protection. In this uncertain world, may I always have the peace and strength to forge ahead, not for my own wants, but for the greater purpose of serving a loving Lord who is greater than anything or any other purpose or comfort I can think of.

Thank you Lord for blessing the doctors to find the multiple tumors and help them remove it (cauterizing the smaller walnut-sized growths and removing the one the size of a small cantaloupe from my intestines). Thank you Lord that I only lost 2-liters of blood and the doctors were able to give me a transfusion of red blood cells and albumin. Thank you Lord for a quick 3.5 hour surgery in which the doctors put me neatly back together. Thank you Jesus that for now, the doctors can't find anymore growths, but also have the wisdom to expect more growths in the future. Thank you Lord that I know you personally in my life o that I don't have to worry if I only have a day or many years to live. My life is yours, Lord, use it as you see fit... So long as I can honor you in how I live and act, my life is already complete... Everything else is just more blessing you shower me with from your mercy and your grace. May this body continue to be the Lord's temple and tool, to use as you see fit... In Jesus' name I thank my Lord in heaven for my given purpose in this life, to be one of meaning and not self-serving emptiness. Amen.

Surgery

Surgery planned for Oct 5, 2011 at 9am!

Yay!!! I'm so excited! From here on out... Things will just keep getting better!

Don't know how long I'll need to be in the hospital... Kinda depends on where the mass is actually attached to. *grin*

Thanks to everyone who's been wishing me the best and praying for me! I really appreciate all the encouragement and support.

Just wanted to let you all know that I feel very loved and have been blessed with almost finishing my backyard project (all the heavy stuff done) and really enjoying my time with Noel(outdoor rock climbing, cleaning house, sleeping late). Life's been awesome!

Love ya all and see you guys soon! --K