Round 5

I'm back in the hospital tonight - starting round 5 of my chemo. I'm feeling good - almost like I'm catching my second wind for the second half of this journey.

Thanks for your continued thoughts and prayers!

I've Got a Fever...

Well, at least I did have a fever. It’s gone now. It’s been a rough couple of weeks – but many of you got that idea already from my recent posts. Last week my neck swolled up like I had the gout and I started running a fever. Running a fever when your immune system basically non-functioning is NOT good. Once the fever hit 101, my doctor admitted me to the hospital for some close monitoring and heavy duty antibiotics.

I am doing much better now. My fever has resolved and my neck is normal. My energy is good and appetite is returning. And I should get to go home very soon – as early as tonight – as long as some labwork returns OK.

I’ve been reminded lately of the value of laughter. Proverbs 17:22 says, “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength.” So it is only fitting that I close with this funny and classic reference to someone else’s fever. For those unfamiliar with it – I wish you could see the whole skit, but apparently NBC won’t allow YouTube to post it.

Bedrock Theology

Sorry for the delay in posting... This has been the roughest week in my treatment so far - mostly because of the fatigue that I mentioned in my last post.

But I'm hanging in there. And I'm reminding myself of three foundational truths....

(1) God is good - He always has been.
(2) God is in control - He always is.
(3) God loves me - He always will.

That's good stuff - even if you don't have cancer, right?

Tired

Back during my Labor Day Q & A, Stephen asked what has changed the most as a result of my cancer and wondered what we might do better to minister to other families in similar situations.

(Stephen’s profile says he is a student in Afghanistan. I still can’t believe people actually READ my blog, let alone people in on the other side of the world. Whoa.)

This may not be the most comprehensive answer…. and it may seem trivial, actually… but doggone it – I’m tired. I’m weary, worn-out, fatigued, drained, and run-down. I’m pooped. (Brett, that last one was for you – and anyone else that giggles at the “p” word.)

This exhaustion comes in 2 main forms. First, there is just the sheer physical tiredness. I thought I was prepared for being a little worn down. And most days aren’t too troublesome. But after each round of chemotherapy, there are about 3-4 days of feeling an extreme tiredness. “Sleepy” isn’t the right word, though I do sleep a lot. This is body-dropping exhaustion. For example, I was discharged from the hospital Friday afternoon. I came home and slept from 4:00-6:00, was up for a couple of hours and them slept 12 hours straight from 8:00-8:00. After a couple hours, I took another 2 hour nap that morning, a nap that afternoon, and then went to bed at 9:00 that night.

It is now Sunday evening and I’m starting to feel better, but I’m beginning to hate the weariness. I told my son I couldn’t go to his first soccer game on Saturday morning and felt a little bit like a loser for doing so. I’m not doing much to help around the house and I didn’t go to church this morning – all because, well, I’m tired. Combine all that with a decrease in overall stamina for physical activities, and I start to feel like a weak, incompetent person. That’s been a struggle.

This leads nicely (if I do say so myself) to the second kind of tiredness. Looking ahead makes me emotionally drained. I have found this ironic, because I am actually half way done right now. This should be cause for celebration. I’m half done! But there’s been no streamers, no confetti, no balloons, and no cake – nor should there be. And I can’t keep myself from thinking I’m only half-way done. The road still looks long to me, and it makes me tired. I’m tired of hospital food. I’m tired of the hair loss. I’m tired of injections in my belly and spinal taps in my back. I’m tired of playing the role of sick person in my family. I’m tired of the weird routine I’ve established for my life and I’m tired of this ridiculous cancer.

Wow, I just reread my words and they sound a little heavy. I hope I don’t come across as an emotional wreck. I’d go back and delete half that stuff, but then I’d have to work at something else to write. And as I’ve explained, I’m too tired for that. Stephen asked what has changed the most – and it is the weariness.

He also asked about ministering to other families. I’m going to save that for another post. I have much to share about God’s blessings and provisions and how He has used others to minister to us.

For now, I’d like to make yet another request of ya’ll. I have a handful of verses that have been especially meaningful to me as they relate to tiredness/strength, etc. But I’d like to know from you…. what Scripture helps you the most when you are tired and you have a long road yet ahead?

Medications and Petitions

Like all medications, my chemotherapy medications follow a dose-response curve. This means that at low levels, the medications do little to no good in treating the cancer. There is a minimum dosage needed for the medication to be effective. This also means there is a maximum dosage of the medication beyond which there is no more increase in effectiveness. The area in between this minimum and maximum dosage is the therapeutic level of medication. Click on the picture for a larger graph of a typical dose-response curve.

Some medications have wide therapeutic levels, others are very narrow. Whatever the therapeutic level, it is critically important to find it. Not enough of the medication and you don’t beat the cancer, it beats you. Too much of the medication and you beat the cancer alright, but the medication beats you as well.

I’ve noticed that some very well-meaning folks think that prayers work on a dose-response curve, too.

I am very blessed. Seriously. I have an untold number of people praying for me. My family. My church. My parents' and in-laws' friends. My parents' and in-laws' churches and Sunday School classes. My friends from college and seminary – and their churches. My co-workers – and their churches. And this is just the beginning. There are people I’ve never met that are praying for me.

I’m honored that so many people would petition our King on my behalf. I’m floored, actually. I don’t deserve the attention. But I am encouraged beyond words. It is very hard to get too discouraged when I know so many people around the world are praying specifically for me. I believe in the power of prayer.

But I sometimes detect in conversations with others a belief that God must be answering these prayers for my healing because there are so many people praying. And I wonder…… Does God answer prayers on a dose-response model? Is there a minimum number of people that must pray before He decides to answer? If Shanda was the only person praying for example, would it matter? On the other hand, is there a maximum number of people praying beyond which it doesn’t make much of a difference?

Does God count votes? Do more prayers by more people require God to be more active? I don’t think so.

But now my head starts to hurt – because I WANT as many people praying for me as possible. I see the value of our church prayer lists – not just for me, but for everyone who is hurting and in need. And I believe that God answers prayers.

So here’s your chance for reader participation again. (Actually, I ALWAYS invite reader participation.) Help me sort through this issue. Do numbers matter? Why or why not?

Identity Theft

As a professor and a blogger, it is inevitable that my own words sometimes come back to haunt me. In what I consider to be the first post related to my cancer, I made some rather bold statements. And more than a few folks have reminded me of them. Consider these words…

“My life will not revolve around or focus on my ailment.”

“You won’t read much about my condition here in upcoming days and months.”

“Whatever it is – even if it is really bad – it isn’t significant enough to take center stage in my world.”

Oh brother. Reading them now makes me wonder what world I was living in. Cancer has a way of taking over your life – at least temporarily. Nearly everything I do revolves around it. It is THE reference point for my life’s activities and decisions. Am I well enough to do this activity? Do I have enough energy? Am I going to be in the hospital? Will my immune system withstand it? Will I be at the clinic or doctor’s office? The list of questions goes on.

My life is in one big time out. And my cancer is more than taking center stage. It is the only show in town for me.

But the main point of that first post still stands. Now consider these words…

“No matter what the condition is, I will NOT let it define me.”

“It will not become a part of my identity.”

I am still committed to these words, though sometimes this is easier said than done. But this is why I don’t wear the ridiculous hospital gowns. They identify me as a sick person. This is why I don’t participate in online support groups or discussion boards for people with cancer. As helpful and worthwhile as they may be, I’m resisting being identified as a cancer patient. This is why I don’t like having a bald head. I’m not at all vain about my appearance, but I feel like I might as well be wearing a neon sign that announces “CANCER PATIENT” up there.

Several items in my life have already had their identity stolen. I have some shirts that I now call my “cancer shirts.” Though they are perfectly normal and nice looking shirts, we bought them just for me to wear at the hospital and I can’t even imagine wearing them elsewhere. They are identified with my cancer. I also bought some crocs to wear while at the hospital – but they are quickly becoming my “cancer crocs.” As comfortable as they are, I may have to burn them once my treatment is over. Their identity has been taken over.

But I refuse to let cancer steal my identity. It will not and cannot define who I am.

So while I persevere and wait for the day when cancer will not be center stage, I remind myself of these fundamental truths about my identity…

I am a child (John 1:12) and a friend (John 15:15) of the King.

I am also His workmanship (Ephesians 2:10).

Gearing Up

So my Labor Day holiday from the blog turned into a weeklong break. And it was nice, actually. I've mentioned before that sometimes blogging only serves to remind me of my cancer and treatment. Taking a break is good for me every once in a while.

Just to give you a quick update.... I had a great week. I was able to meet with my classes at CBC and see my students and coworkers. My energy level was good and I was able to get out of the house to do some normal things, including making a trip to On The Border (the best restaraunt around) and a movie in Little Rock on Friday night.

I've been gearing up for Monday when I will begin round 4 of chemotherapy. This will mark the half-way point of my treatment!

I have several blog posts percolating in my head, and I imagine I will be writing nearly every day while I'm in the hospital. Thanks for staying tuned!

Labor Day Q&A

In honor of Labor Day, I'm taking to day off from working up a new blog topic. Instead, this is YOUR turn to ask me anything and everything you ever wanted to know about my cancer, treatment, or whatever. I'll tackle (nearly) any question - from the serious to the silly. It's open Q&A time!

(P.S. - pray for me today, though. The clinic is closed and Shanda has to give me an injection in the belly. She's been waiting a long time to inflict this kind of pain on me, I think.)