Being Transparent is Healthy

At least that’s what I tell my students. Are there limits to this transparency? I’m sure there are. What should be the limits of my own transparency in the midst of my cancer? I’ve lost some objectivity and I'm not so sure. So I’m following my gut here – which is terribly ironic since it is my gut that has gotten me into this trouble. But I’m trying to be as open and honest as possible here on my blog these days.

I know I’ve promised not to make this all about me. And someday, as things settle down, I’ll reduce the cancer posts and write on other stuff. But enough of you have asked for updates that I feel compelled to keep ya’ll current. (And honestly, I cherish the idea that so many people are thinking of and praying for us.)

We are in a holding pattern until around Thursday next week. I’ve had a slew of tests, exams, pokes, and prods. And I have a few more to go. All of the results will come in around mid-week and then I’ll have another consultation with my oncologist. I am looking forward to that day in nervous anticipation – as I assume that’s the day I will get some numbers; something concrete to wrap my mind around. I’ll get the stage of my cancer (how far it has progressed) and I’ll get a cure rate. I want to know (1) my stage number and (2) the likelihood that I’m going to survive. I want the numbers. And waiting for them is hard. So if you are looking for specific ways to pray in the next few days – pray for patience and peace and we continue to live with the unknown and we have to wait.

And pray for this…..

This is hard enough to hear rattle around in my head – let alone verbalize it to Shanda (which I’ve done) or write about it on my blog (which I’m now doing). So bear with me.

I know that I can handle anything that happens. Seriously. I’m in God’s care. I can handle the pain and side effects that will occur as a result of my chemotherapy, which is probably going to be pretty brutal. Maybe you’ve already read my take on these things: I don’t deserve any different. Others have suffered incredibly more than I will. God loves me and nothing can separate me from His love. It will be hard, sometimes very hard, but I can handle it. That’s not self-centered pride (I don’t think). That’s the assurance and hope I have in Christ.

I also know that if treatment does not go well and I don’t make it – the alternative is being with Jesus. See? I’m going to be OK.

But I’m having a hard time thinking of my family – particularly my sons. Shanda is a strong woman and while it would be incredibly hard for her, she would be OK, too. But I’m struggling with the idea of my sons growing up without a father. If I let those thoughts linger - for even a moment (like now) - the weight of them nearly crushes me. Even though I know in my head that God loves my family far more than I do and would take care of them, in my heart I can’t bear the thought of my sons growing up without their dad. Please focus your prayers as I try to live out Philippians 4:8 and as I seek the promise of Philippians 4:6-7.

Ugh. That wasn’t fun. But it was transparent. Your prayers are a lifeline for me. Thank you all!

Breaking News

Thanks again to everyone who has commented or emailed. I appreciate your kind words more than you know.

Here’s a brief update….

My cancer is one of two different subtypes of B cell lymphoma. I like having a name for it. I now know what I’m battling against.

I also get to keep my guts. The oncologist today said that colon surgery is not necessary. That’s the good news.

The bad news is that I am in for some pretty rough chemo starting soon. (Probably Hyper-CVAD for the curious.)

While my oncologist was very helpful, I didn’t get as much news as I would have liked today. He still doesn’t know what stage my cancer is in. And that means I don’t know the exact success rate of treatment. We will know all of that within the next week or so after I have a battery of more tests.

Speaking of tests – I have a bone marrow biopsy Wednesday. I hear those aren’t any fun.

That’s the short story. I don’t really know what to make of these changes yet. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it all. I’ll post more soon.

Thanks again for your encouragement and prayers!

Nailed Down

Nailed down.
Written in blood.
Carved in stone.
Written on the bathroom stall with a sharpie.

OK. So that last metaphor wasn’t appropriate. But you get the idea.

I’m seeing the oncologist today and I’m preparing myself for what he may have to say. I imagine he will be much more specific than my other doctors – more specific about the type of cancer, about the course of treatment, and about prognosis and life-expectancy. The less specific the details were until now, the more I could just assume that all was good. But I’m a little unsettled about what I might hear today. So I’m driving some stakes into the ground. No matter what news I get – I know without any doubt or reservation...

(1) God is in control and He loves me.
(2) God loves my family more than I do.
(3) Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from God’s love (Romans 8:38-39).

Thanks to all who have commented and emailed their encouraging words. I have not been able to repsond to everyone - but please know I appreciate you all.

A Place for Everything and Everything in its Place

- I have cancer. And…..

- I have Shanda, a strong, beautiful wife who knows all my faults and weaknesses and loves me anyway.
- I have Parker, a 6 year old son who loves to read, play soccer, and who looks a lot like me. He also sometimes tells me I’m the best dad in the whole world.
- I have Tanner, a 3 year old son who is a talking machine and who reminded me yesterday that “we can’t see God but He is still in our hearts.”
- I have Cooper, a 2 month old son who breaks out with the biggest smiles at me when I smell his toes and make faces at how stinky they are.

- I have parents and a sister who love me, pray for me constantly, and who worry too much.
- I have a Mom that wears her heart on her sleeve, who passed along to me the legacy of making up my own words when my mind works faster than my lips, and who cries at coffee commercials.
- I have a Dad who is a dreamer, who loves going to the movies with me, and who passed along to me a love for music.
- I have a sister who is sensitive towards others who need help and who is firm with people who should know better when they get stupid.
- I have great memories of growing up as a kid.

- I have a small home full of big love, loud noise, and lots of laughter.
- I have a yard with beautiful trees and lousy grass.
- I have two cars that get us where we need to go and keep us safe.
- I have over 500 CDs
- I have 1 country music CD
- I have good taste in music, but not as good as Craig.
- I have too many clothes and too much stuff.

- I have a good education.
- I have delusions that I am better at basketball, softball, and racquetball than I really am.
- I have more friends than I should.
- I have Scott, who never fails to check how I am doing, who knows it is OK to find the humor in my situation, and who once said “that Jesus – he is a smart man.”
- I have Jenni, who does, um, nearly perfect impersonations, who sometimes snorts when she laughs, who loves Big John’s at Larry's like I do, and who is always willing to watch our sons when we need her.
- I have among my friends many Christian brothers scattered all over the United States that I know would drop what they were doing and find me if they knew I needed them.

- I have a caring church family.
- I have a pastor that is wise and who takes his job as a shepherd seriously.
- I have students who love the Lord and who want to make a difference in the world.
- I have coworkers and supervisors who appreciate and support my work.
- I have an office that is bigger than Medenwald’s.

- I have Jesus.

- I have a life that is better than I deserve.

Life Takes Less Guts

I’m a little uncomfortable making my condition the focus of too many blog posts. But several people have asked that I keep the blog updated periodically so they can know how to pray, etc. I have appreciated those encouraging words and prayers so I suppose in the short-term, as things are more urgent, I’ll post on my condition more often than usual. This means the content of Nothing New will be taking a detour from normal content more frequently.

This week has been chaotic, to say the least. Please read my last post and the comments that follow to get up to speed. After that, here’s the latest: The preliminary results are in from the colonoscopy biopsies. I do have a tumor that is cancerous. It is not the “normal” type of colon cancer, however. It is a lymphoma. Lymphomas can occur just about anywhere in the body, really. Mine just happened to show up in the colon. It is rare to occur this way, though. From what Shanda and I can tell from a little research, only about 0.5% of all colon cancers are lymphomas.

As such, things are a little up in the air about what is the standard treatment procedure. I will very likely undergo surgery to remove the part of my colon with the tumor – early next week. Then I will likely receive chemotherapy after that. This is all just a bit tentative, though, as my GI doctor and my surgeon have asked that I see an oncologist this week to get his opinion on the best course of treatment.

That’s the short story. Thanks for all who have offered kind and encouraging words the last week. And thank you for your prayers. They are much appreciated. I’ll update again as it seems appropriate.

Life Takes Guts

In less than an hour, I’ll be heading to the doctor. Without sharing all my symptoms, which would be unnecessary and embarrassing, I ended up yesterday seeing my doctor for some gastrointestinal issues. He performed an awkward procedure (one that my friend Scott says is “not cool”) and then sent me to the hospital for a CT scan of my abdomen.

I could have one of several conditions – inflammatory bowel disease, Chron’s disease, diverticulitis, or even colon polyps or colon cancer.

I’ll know more in less than an hour.

My wife asked my yesterday if I was nervous about getting the results. I told her no and it was an honest answer, I think.

There are two thoughts that have kept me grounded yesterday and today. These aren’t fleeting thoughts – I consistently have these thoughts whenever I face potentially bad news. As it relates to my situation today, I believe… (1) Whatever the condition is, even if it turns out to be worse than I suspect, I have no reason to think I’m entitled to anything better. It’s not like I should be exempt from bad things. Nothing I’ve done in life gives me a pass from sad or painful conditions. In fact, if anything I deserve far worse than I get. (2) Whatever the condition is, there are plenty of others who have persevered in the face of situations monumentally worse than mine.

I suppose I should have a more “spiritual” response. Maybe I should have some important Scripture passage that I’ve memorized and repeat over and over to give me some peace. Perhaps I should be able to say I’ve heard God’s still, small voice and therefore I have no reason to worry. But I don’t and I haven’t.

So here I am – getting news in about 30 minutes. Why am I blogging right now – at this moment? I suppose I just wanted to verbalize in a more permanent way some of the thoughts I’ve been having. Maybe I’ll need to come back and revisit my own words to keep my head on straight. Maybe they will be an anchor for me in upcoming days.

Here’s one more thing I have already decided. No matter what the condition is, I will NOT let it define me. I will not be known as a diverticulitis-guy. I refuse to be known as that professor with colon cancer. I will not be thought of as the Sunday School teacher who is always dealing with his polyps. My life will not revolve around or focus on my ailment. It will not become a part of my identity. I have a family that needs me too much to let it interfere. I have too much to invest in my students to let it distract me. I have too many friends that enrich my life to let it become a stumbling block. I’ll post an update this afternoon, but you won’t read much about my condition here in upcoming days and months. Nor will I talk about it too much in my conversations. Whatever it is – even if it is really bad – it isn’t significant enough to take center stage in my world.

I’m off now. I think maybe I’ll come back and read this post later and wonder why I was being so overly dramatic. In fact, I would go back and edit some of the drama out of my words, but I don’t have time. They’ll have to stand for now.

Random Observations from the Past 2 Weeks

Have you ever heard of a baby’s umbilical cord wrapping around his/her neck during delivery? It usually isn’t that big of a deal as doctors know how to unravel that thing in a heartbeat. But it DOES have to be addressed very quickly. Because the cord that is designed to sustain life can actually become a noose, strangling the life out of a baby. I’ve discovered that apron strings are like that, too. Some parents choke the life out of their kids with their apron strings. I’m thankful for a wife that doesn’t do that.

If you use the word “crap” in a pseudo-whisper during a funeral service eulogy, you might get a few chuckles from those in attendance. And you might hear the pastor from his little pew say, “I heard that!” – getting ever more chuckles. (Thanks for the laughs Grandma.)

I have often told my students that if you say anything with enough confidence, people will believe you. I have proven this false. If you go on a father/son fishing trip, you better know your angling lingo. If someone asks, “What are you fishin’ with?” and you say, “oh, you know, some spinner croppy with weighted jelly jigs,” real fishermen will know you are full of stink bait no matter how confident you say it.

The best father’s day present is hearing your kids say, “Dad, you are the best daddy ever.”

I’m going to be taking a break from blogging for a couple of weeks this summer. Please come back and visit then! You might want to visit the blogs I read on a relatively regular basis – see links at the right. Be sure to check out Craig’s latest post in particular to give you some perspective on father’s day.

See you in a couple of weeks!

One Less Reader

I lost a blog reader Tuesday morning.

Jean Irma New (1924-2008) went to be with Jesus.

She was my last living grandparent. We loved her and will miss her very much. And we will hold on to some very fond memories of her. For me, they are memories like some of these…..

Playing untold numbers of games with her as a kid – mostly Scrabble and Boggle. The Scrabble game was the deluxe edition, with ridges to keep tiles in place on a turntable board. It was only the best Scrabble for Grandma. I don’t think a deluxe edition of Boggle existed, but Grandma did have to line the inside of the lid with felt to reduce the racket of the cubes bouncing around. I don’t know if Grandma ever went out of her way to let me win games – but it never mattered. She was spending time with me and instilling in me an appreciation for words.

Spending summer days with her – playing Old Maid and swimming at the pool of whichever apartment complex she called home at the time.

Periodically receiving from her some really odd gifts. Like for my 21st birthday – a special turning-of-age celebration for many young men – when she presented me with a boxed set of Hickory Farms summer sausage and smoked cheese. Or like the awful Pierre Cardin cologne (that smelled like brussel spouts if I remember correctly) that she gave me one Christmas curiously shrinkwrapped inside a coffee mug – only to have her buy me the exact same cologne and mug again the very next Christmas.

And speaking of Christmas, I have fond memories of spending nearly every Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with her. We would pick her up from work or home and she would stay the night with us. She would join in as my sister and I always begged to open just one Christmas present on Christmas Eve. And she was usually good to accept or pass along any designated gag gifts (usually a coconut head like this one or crocheted smiley face) whenever it was her turn.

All these times (and others) with Grandma were great times. She was a wonderful lady to be around. She did have a knack for saying and doing some of the darndest things, though.

Like claiming she had never had a headache in her life. Ever.

Like announcing that Kung Fu was her favorite television show.

Like trying to walk smooth through a plate glass door at a store – colliding with quite a racket and drawing a little blood on her face – and then complaining that the store owner kept his glass doors too clean.

Like suggesting to Shanda and I that there was a “way we could be sure to have a boy” the next time we tried to get pregnant – only to be pretty embarrassed when I openly asked her to elaborate.

Like often laughing so hard that she would start coughing and have to wave her hand down at us to stop just so she could catch her breath.

Like abruptly changing perfectly normal conversations at the oddest of times and to the oddest of things – to Meerkat Manor or some other show she had been watching recently.

Like proudly purchasing Zamfir cassettes and making us listen to the pan flute over dinner. Seriously. Zamfir. Come to think of it, I think she may have had some Boxcar Willie, too.

In addition to these events, I remember some of the ways in which Grandma has influenced me. She had a hand in shaping me into the person I am today. From listening to her stories as a nurse on a drug/alcohol inpatient unit, I think I learned something about being both merciful and firm with people who are hurting and need help. I’m sure some of my stubbornness (and my general reluctance to ever admit I’m wrong) comes from Grandma. From her I learned to prefer real butter over margarine and to generously apply pepper to most of my foods. From her I learned to appreciate Peanuts comic strips and all things Norman Rockwell.

Grandma, we are glad for your homegoing, but will miss you dearly. I’ll hold on to these good memories and others until we see each other again.

Spelling Lesson

Who knew you had to be careful letting your 6 year old watch the National Spelling Bee on television? Imagine the reaction in my house after this scene (below). Oh boy. I'm just glad Parker had a couple of days to forget what he heard - otherwise I'm sure this would have been part of his school or church vocabulary the next day.

(Disclaimer: Crude language ahead. View at your own discretion.)