Crossroad to Confusion

Exodus 4:11-12 (NIV) “The LORD said to him, ‘Who gave human beings their mouths? Who makes them deaf or mute? Who gives them sight or makes them blind? Is it not I, the LORD? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.’” 

Okay, so here I am reopening my blog writing again and you might be asking yourself why. Well let me tell you my story, yet again. The Big C came into my life on a black horse carrying with it fear and uncertainty. That was January 25th, 2017 when I got the official diagnosis. Now in all of my research, I learned that the C cells were awakened seven to ten years earlier when they were as small as a dust mote and no possible sign of them being seen even with the finest equipment in the 21st century!

I’m not going to rehash the entire story, you can read it here with this link and all of 2017 if you wish but fast-forwarding to 2019, after I was told I was stage 4, that the C cells had metastasized, meaning they spread to my bones, my liver and I have no clue where else. Doctors are funny that way, they tell you snippets of what THEY want in little increments of fear, so you stress and worry yourself, literally to death. But I have something no doctor has and that is FAITH in the Lord my God!

Yes, I know some doctors have faith but I can assure you, they think they are doing God’s work for Him. Maybe they are and maybe they are not, that is not for me to judge. They are NOT the God I listen to. In my heart and my soul, no doctor’s fear penetrates me so much that I override what the Lord tells me and says for me to do.

Around the time of my femur break, I was placed on (OC) Oral Chemo. That is not the same as chemotherapy, being hooked to a machine pumping poison into your system. This poison targets the estrogen positive cells going crazy in my body and attacks the little wanderers in other places.

My markers were extremely high and the doctor really didn’t feel like this OC was going to work but after a month in the hospital, the pills, often not taken on a regular basis until I got home from the hospital, were showing signs of working. The oncologist who visited me in the hospital for the ten days that I was there kept pushing for me to do the port IV Chemo which I AM firmly against. I know it, God knows it, the doctors know it! But Dr. Biscuit, a colleague of my current Onc., was astounded that the little time I was on the OC, my tumor was shrinking and the markers were sliding DOWN the sliding board at record speed!

Markers are blood cell counts. White, red, and C cells. They tell the doctor what is going on inside the body. Dr. Biscuit didn’t want to agree with me that my strict diet adherence is what made my body accept the OC so well when thousands of women across the country were falling sick with vomiting, skin problems, diarrhea, and other side effects. I was an exemplary guinea pig if you will.

Miracle after miracle, my markers, month after month was going down. August-September they were at an all-time high of 2711 dropping to 350 by November. What my doctor failed to tell me was that December and January there was a slight increase in my C cells, not my White and Red ones, so I guess it didn’t draw concern at that time.

During those months I thought I was home free. My current oncologist told me to eat what I wanted to get my weight up and like a fool, I LISTENED to the doctor! As I sit here in February all the junk food, meat, dairy, carbs all toxins I hadn’t had for almost two years were in my body doing a little dance, unbeknownst to me, with my cells! I weigh the same that I weighed when I entered the hospital back in September. So the doctor was wrong in telling me to eat what I want.

I was told to stop my supplements back in September but was allowed my Vitamins A, B12, C, D3, and E. I stopped all supplementation except two that I felt were essential, Green Tea/Curcumin, turmeric/black pepper. The doctor on many occasions LAUGHED at me and made fun of my supplementation. I let it roll off my back because I took jabs at his bald head, so touché.

Also in these months, I’ve been attending Physical Therapy to regain the mobility that I lost when my femur popped out of my leg. Yeah, it was not a simple break, it was a total disaster and they really didn’t think I’d walk again after repairing the damage, but again, miraculously, I PROVED THEM WRONG! I’m walking with a walker and often with just my cane! 

The other day was my oncologist visit. It was the first time they’d seen me NOT in a wheelchair. The one assistant squealed like a little girl in amazement! 

“JONI! What’s this? You’re walking!” Squeals of delight and smiles from the other nurses as I passed and little murmurs of “Way to go!” could be heard as I was led into the docs office. Even the doctor smiled and said, “You’re looking good!”

In the room, the talk began, the banter if you will. Him making fun of me and me listening to his rhetoric on chemotherapy and how people die without it. THIS is when he mentioned my C cells rising. The OC had done its job and can do no more. This is also the time, six months later, that he tells me the OC was only supposed to work for three months. Here I was five-six months out, still looking good for a stage 4 patient. My white and red were ‘plateauing’ as he put it, an evening out.

I got home from the visit sad, not my peppy self when the phone rang as we walked in the door...

“The doctor needs to see you again. Your markers are up.” PA says to me. I said a Wednesday visit would be okay. 

I broke. The tears that had been stored up for a few months all unleashed when the floodgates opened. I had been doing so good, I’ve been soaring, walking, healing, feeling great and BAM! Slap me in the face kind doctor! 

I was angry. For the first time in my spiritual life, I was angry at God! I lost two children and didn’t feel the anger that swelled up inside of me at that very moment. I was not as well as I was led to BELIEVE I was. 

“WHY,” I cried, “why is all of this happening again. I just wanted a break, a reprieve from the stress of healing! I thought I was. I was being misled down a path?” The tears filled the trashcan to overflowing with Kleenex.

That night I did what I always do, I prayed. I apologized first and asked what He’d have me do. No answer. In the morning on Thursday, I prayed as I always do and talked with Him. I had said in jest that if it snows on Wednesday (or snow inhibiting my visit) then my answer was to just say no, to chemo! I looked at the weather and while snow was forecasted for Friday and Saturday, three to four inches, it was sunny and clouds all next week. A deep sigh left me still praying and wondering. What was I to do?

I was told by the docs office to not take any more pills and they called the pharmaceutical place and stopped delivery of further shipments. Great, I’m dangling out here, alone. HA! The jokes on them! I AM NEVER ALONE! I have an Almighty God! An intense faith in my spiritual life! It surpasses anything in this physical realm! I know my friends think I’m crazy, surely the doctor does too, but I have an AMAZING Healer in God! I cannot and will not lose my faith!

I woke Friday morning feeling eerily good. Two days in a row of PT wore me down, the doc visit shredded me to pieces and here I was Friday morning, snow blanketing the fields, and I’m feeling pretty good. Wednesday I tossed the drugs in the trash and resumed right then and there my supplementation. No more meat, back to the strict protocol that OBVIOUSLY worked FOR me and not against me!

On to reading my morning devotional emails. I was going to read ‘Verse of the Day’ first but I inadvertently hit Encouragement for the Day. In it was a story of a woman who had in-vitro fertilization and was told by her doctors that these last four embryos were ‘inferior’. In his YEARS of study, knowledge, and experience told these hope-filled parents that inferior embryos don’t ‘hatch’, so to speak.

She was on the sonogram table listening to THREE HEARTBEATS! From the email: “As I lay on that table, looking at the glowing screen, those three fluttering heartbeats told me what a doctor had labeled “inferior” was exactly the kind of thing God uses to accomplish His will.
Our doctor briskly entered the room, breathless and looking perplexed. “I really don’t know how this happened!” He exclaimed.”

What message was I, little Joni, getting from this? Let’s look at the accompanying scripture and you’ll see/read for yourself.

TRUTH FOR TODAY: Deuteronomy 31:6, “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.” (NIV)

Exodus 4:12, “Now go! I will help you speak, and I will teach you what to say.” (NCV)

I closed down my writing because I thought I was done, I could move on. As you see...God is not done with me yet! A look at next weeks weather? A 70% chance of snow on Tuesday. 

All praise and Glory to a Wonderful and Amazing God! 

Just in case you were wondering, this was the other message received today. Our God is an AWESOME God! From Charles Stanley: In Touch
Pss 23:1-6

Good and Bad Days: We All Have Them

Matt. 13:48 (KJV) “Which, when it was full, they drew to shore, and sat down, and gathered the good into vessels, but cast the bad away.”

Good days and bad days: we all have them

I’m sure we all have our good days and bad days; we know they’re bad when things go wrong and we see them as good when everything falls into place like a row of dominoes. While yes, I admittedly suffer from PTSD, I myself see more good days than bad and to me, they are all positive steps toward my healing. 

Jer. 29:11 (NIV) “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

As home slowly becomes more familiar to me, I feel the healing in the core of my being. The first few weeks though, of being home, felt like an unending carousel ride. That very first Monday I was Mrs. Popular in that everyone wanted a piece of me. I had calls from the home health nurse, the physical therapist, my oncologist office and the Cancer Center’s radiation office. Emails were sounding in from my mother in law wanting to come see me, sister in law auntie and uncle, everyone wanted a piece of this broken woman and how do I tell them all to just SHUT UP in a polite manner? 

My first Monday morning was an assertion day, I was going to take hold of my surroundings, my activities, and my appointments. I was not going to be TOLD to come here, or do this or do that, I would tell THEM what I was willing to do! I was going to take back what I lost!

First up, the home health nurse, Mandy, the woman I had only met on that day I was exiting in an ambulance, yes, she could come. Physical therapist, yes she was allowed. The oncologist? I’ll see you sometime next week. The radiation nurse, I asked if it could be put off for a week as I regained my bearings now that I was home. They were fine with that, setting me up the following week for my two (week) five-day sessions. Ten treatments in all to the healing left femur.

The emails were more targeted to my husband than me because it hurt to type on my laptop. I didn’t have a bend and stretch out mobility, I had a stiff-as-a-board-lay-there-and-be- good, semblance. Computer stuff would have to wait for a spell. I’d send out a 'hey' to friends and let them know I was still alive and as I knew they would be, they were more than understanding and just happy to know I was home. 

Monday was going along smoothly except for me missing my husband who had to go to work with worry on his mind trying to remember if I was set up well enough to be alone. Since we fibbed a little to get me home, I assured him I would be fine, and I was. As scary as the surroundings were, I was HOME and that was good enough for me! 

Now keep in mind, I had not bathed in twenty days. A wipe-down at the hospital but not a thing at the nursing home! Not a wipe, not a rag, nothing! I even used my own kleenex when I had to do my business. So when my mother-in-law wanted to bring his uncle to the house because he’d be ‘in town’, I had to say no way! I was not up to ‘visitors’, I needed to HEAL. I needed time! It all felt so rushed and the kaleidoscope began with its pretty colors and I was getting dizzy.

She said she understood but could her friend from church bring out food? I think she mentioned cookies or something. I told hubby to gently say, NEXT WEEK! Dang. I loved that everyone was so concerned, but I felt like the people who just lost a family member and friends would clamor to come over and bring food at the most inopportune time. Not to be rude but please send love, condolences and give them some space and time. Not a month, just breathing room. Please, don't turn this into how you lost someone and loved those people doing that for you. I appreciated EVERY bit of stirring also. I was suffocating and I needed to BREATHE! 

All appointments set, I slept. I slept and slept some more. Now it was time to move onto healing. The home health nurse brought me a hair-washing cap. You place it on your head, rub your fingers intensely and voila, your hair is water-free washed. It worked marvelously! She supplied an ample amount of body-wipes, and hubby he produced a bucket of water and a rag where I felt refreshing water on my face for the first time in twenty some days! Moving right along. 

I did have the nurse in tears, not bawling because they need to maintain distance and composure in their job, but her eyes were brimming at the sad painful story I’d tell. I had to get it off my chest so each person, professional or family, my story spilled into their ears and leaked from their eyes. They were shocked, then amazed at the strength I carried. I made it perfectly clear it surely was not me, it was God that they saw IN me! 

My healing was nothing short of astonishing to all who were witness to me. The radiation nurses saw me go from gurney to wheelchair within a week. From assisting me onto the slab to minimal help to no help needed at all. This was happening in a ten day period of time! 

My oncologist even showed signs of wonderment at my speedy recovery time. Not only my Oral Chemo and blood cell count healing time but my physical mobility healing time. All were displaying awe and wonder and were quite vocal in letting me know that this was nothing short of amazing. Doctor’s will not touch the ‘miracle’ label, but here I was, in their face, a living breathing healing miracle!

So as I have good days and bad days, it is all a part of the intricate veins of healing. People sometimes think healing happens in the blink of an eye but they need to know and understand how to appreciate the time and effort that goes into producing a work of wonder. Noah’s Ark wasn’t built in a day, the great Pyramids didn’t appear out of thin air and Jesus Himself took nine months to make a physical show. One step at a time is truly meant to be one breath at a time, and it is never our time, it is always His time. 

All praise and Glory to God! AMEN! 

Ecc. 3:11 (NIV) “He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”

Home At Last...My Story Continues

Rev. 19:1 “ And after these things I heard a great voice of much people in heaven, saying, Alleluia; Salvation, and glory, and honour, and power, unto the Lord our God:”

Home at last...

Driving home for the first time in twenty days felt strange as I had not really been in the outside air except for the three-minute drive from nursing home to the hospital across the road. I opened the window and let the cool breeze kiss my face as the sun hugged me, welcoming me. Yes, there was sun instead of clouds on this day of my release from rehab.

I was a little nervous heading home because I had no idea what uncertainty was going to meet me at the door. All I knew was that it was home, and I was finally going there, a safe haven in which to rest. What felt like months in the hospital being shuffled from hospital to nursing home, to radiation on my leg, to the primary doctor and back to the hospital, it was all coming to a nerve-wracking end because I’d have to trust my husband on a different level more than anything right now.

My husband had been put through the wringer, thrown in the dryer and left there to wrinkle. In other words, this man was frazzled beyond recognition. I could see him in there but his mind, it looked as if it had been thrown in the frying pan and left to sizzle. No one noticed this, not his mother, his sister, no one but me and my son because we had to deal with him daily.  He was forgetful, distant at times, and extremely self-centered. He was trying to regain control of the world he lost,  something that looked normal but he knew, that time was a ways off in the months that lie ahead.

In the twenty days I was in the hospital he had locked his keys in the car at least three times, he had forgotten what I asked for from home almost daily and he had slept on the hard hospital sofa for ten days, not wanting to leave me alone in the hospital but was made to leave me in a nursing home and that laid guilt on him. I’m not telling you this so you can laugh and make fun, I’m sharing this because here was a dedicated-to-his-wife man, who had very recently put his dog to rest, now made to deal with his wife, not being the beautiful dependable homemaker that he fell in love with. He was wearing thin on many levels and it hurt me to watch.

Now he was driving me home where my care would be solely left up to him. Sure, a home healthcare nurse would come by twice a week, but as you know, there are seven days in a week. I  believe any man would be anxious in this situation where twenty days ago he didn’t know if his wife was going to live or die, it looked that grim from their perspectives. Sure his mom would offer to make a meal or two, but he needed more, more that none of us could give.

Now sitting in front of the house drew tears from my eyes like water from a well. I was no longer looking out a window hoping and praying, I was home, prayers answered. The tears flowed effortlessly before I even tried getting out of the car. Hubby was removing the wheelchair from the trunk, my son came from inside offering to help and I just wanted to sit there in the car and drink the reality of it all in. “Why not unload the car and let me sit here a few minutes?”

They complied and began carrying in vases and stuffed animals, blankets and clothes, boxes and bows. I was home. The shabby little rental house isn’t all that much to look at, but it has been my home for ten years, one where I made it a flower-rimmed home that even the owner of the property had mentioned how well tended this place was. Amazing what love can turn into beauty in the midst of ugly. I was home.

I called out to Riley, the dog who wandered onto the property two years ago as a stray and never left. Riley, who was nowhere to be seen, nor had been for some days the guys said. I called out and told her to come home, I’m here. She would come eventually, she always does. The guys said that when they put food out for her, it disappeared, but they never really caught a glimpse of her. 

I had to swing my pained legs out the door. I would need to get back into the car on Friday and all the days of doctor visits, so this has to go well! I pivoted to the wheelchair, gently sat, and after taking a deep inhale was pushed forward up my RAMP, that my bro-in-law built with no questions asked (or funds for that matter!)

Once safely in the front door, my eyes opened to a cascade of tears, I just sat and bawled my eyes out, crying, “I’m home! I’m home!” There was joy and fear, anxiety and pain but there was also my Lord waiting to carry any burden I brought home with me. 

I’ll continue this story in the coming weeks as I continue healing but today being New Year's Eve, you need to know how far I’ve come and am at on this day, two short months since I was released from what I deemed ‘the hellholes’!

My cancer markers have gone down drastically, leaving the doctors scratching their heads in amazement. The markers began in September at 2775, dropped in October to 1500, then to 875 in November! What do they mean? Cancer no longer likes living in my body- for now, I move on.

When I was released from rehab on October 5th, I was on a strict no weight-bearing regimen! I could not put any weight on my left leg and minimal on my right! 
Today, I still use the wheelchair but I walk with a walker (in the house and at physical therapy) and have just started practicing with a cane! 

My doctors, plural, have admitted that it was not just the oral-chemo that has had this miraculous change in my healing. Whatever I was doing (alternatively) was obviously in play here and working on healing me! 

The radiation I received for ten days was to my femur where they said cancer had spread, radiation zapped it away. More astonishing to the doc’s was the rare way my body was handling everything. No vomiting, eating regularly, no diarrhea, no pink peeling skin, no mouth sores, no fevers, etc. I was what the nurse said, “Our poster child for what stage 4 cancer healing SHOULD look like!" Words like awesome, amazing, fascinating were frequently heard with each office visit or from anyone I came in contact with really.

This weekend for the first time in three months, I reclaimed my home! Taking my time and being ever so cautious, I dusted and vacuumed, washed, dried, folded and put away two loads of laundry. I’m releasing my husband of those duties and hopefully, he can find healing also. 

What do I say is my source of healing? My God! Simply put, my AMAZING GOD! Prayer and the support of my friends and family. I never allowed my faith to wane, my trust in the Lord grew stronger. Through each pain, every sorrowful step that brought tears to my eyes, I cried out louder to my God, Thank you, Jesus! 

Now, what do I see for the NEW YEAR? My faith growing even stronger, my sharing of this miraculous healing with any and all, and I see the colors of the rainbow flourishing in my garden this spring. I see me walking around the house talking to my animals and giving my Riley plenty of belly rubs! Yes, she appeared when she sensed I was home. (It didn’t take too long)

I’m home… home at last! 

HAPPY NEW YEAR, my Spiritual Family! I could’ve never made it without your continued prayers and support!

Pss. 30:2 “O LORD my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me.”