Category Archives: Mayo Clinic

Thinking outside the box – UPDATE

Thinking outside the box – UPDATE
Fourth of July fun at Z-Farm

The past few weeks have been an emotional roller coaster ride for my family, friends and me. Confirming that the malignant adenocarcinoma had returned to the head of my reconstructed pancreas and having my oncologist tell us without treatment we have just months would send any human being to a deep dark place.

Having survived the absolute most fatal cancer for eight years has truly been a miracle thanks to God, you my prayer warriors, my fantastic medical team of primary care doc, surgeons, radiologists, gastroenterologists, radiologists, oncologists and the PA’s and nurses who assist them at Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, FL.

But, realistically, we always knew there would be a day when the cancer would take over.

For a time we placed our complete trust in a non-approved trial drug Herceptin Hylecta (trastuzumab and hyaluronidase-ovsk) recently used as immunotherapy treatment for early breast cancer in HER2 positive patients, with great success I might add. Tests were run to determine the DNA of my tumor and provide the best possible match for the gene therapy. The prayer was that I might be the first pancreas cancer patient to receive the treatment…and that it would destroy the cells. That was truly our only hope.

When we asked if surgery could be performed to remove the tumor, the answer was no, there has not been success in the past with patients with similar medical situations. So truly our only hope was in the trial drug. So, we began the infusions.

Entering the chemo suites that familiar smell and feeling rushed over me like a bad dream. But, I knew this treatment would be different. My oncologist told me I would not lose my hair, I would not experience nausea but would possibly have a rash. A rash? I could surely handle that. But, it was just returning to this place I had avoided for two years, that sick feeling returned. I was happy to see a familiar face, a nurse who sat with me the entire infusion watching for adverse reaction but more importantly, chatting in light conversation.

As the test reports came in my case was presented by my oncologist to the Thursday tumor board, a group of up to eighteen Mayo docs from different departments. (Get a second opinion? Why when you have eighteen of the finest doctors in the world collaborating over your MRi’s, scans, blood work and pathology reports.)

One of the surgeons attending that day probably said, “Oh this is Judi, I am familiar with her case. She is the one who defies all of the norms with her PC.” But most importantly, he thought he had a solution. He presented his ideas to the board and they all agreed.

Shortly after the meeting my oncologist phoned. His excitement came right thru the phone as he explained what the surgeon was proposing. He told me surgery was being offered to me and to expect a call from Dr. Stauffer.

When Dr. Stauffer called I listened intently to his plan. He began by stating, “Judi, we need to think outside of the box with you.” He explained they would like to surgically remove the tumor, a suspicious lymph node behind the mesenteric artery as well as a lesion that had shown up for years on my liver, but had not grown in size in any of my scans. He said, if you agree to the surgery, I believe it can work.

My reaction was, “What have I got to lose?” He replied, “You have nothing to lose and life to gain.”

I have received two infusions to date and am scheduled for a third in early August. Scans and tests will be reviewed to check results of the infusions and to be used in the open surgery that will be performed August 17th.

Many of you are praying for me and as you have heard me say in the past, I truly believe this is the explanation I have for my survival. God is listening to your payers, and granting them. For this we are eternally grateful. So, again, I am asking for your prayers for the doctors and nurses on my care team to receive what they need to have a successful surgery. Again, not just for me but to make surgery a possibility for other PC warriors with resectable tumors.

Thankful for all of my prayer warriors and thankful for a surgeon who is willing to think outside the box.

Update…

Update…
This is a spiritual place…Z-Family Farm – Fletcher North Carolina

God has granted me so many miracles throughout my life. But the most miraculous of all has been the gift of eight years since my diagnosis of pancreas cancer on April 29th, 2014.

Tommy and I agree these have been the best eight years of our lives together.

Our faith has grown so enormously and so deeply throughout this journey that we count that as another huge miracle He has blessed us with. Our children experience firsthand the importance of having a relationship with our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and all agree we could not handle this without Him. We put our trust in Him completely to lead us through this difficult trial.

For our friends, it has been miraculous as well. They pray diligently and many daily that we can have one more day, one more good scan, one more birth, one more memory. They see Him answer those prayers time after time. I know it has deepened their faith as well.

The most recent miracle has been the success of our 6th Champions for Hope event. Thanks to our sponsors, friends and volunteers who open their hearts and their pocketbooks to help us raise EPIC amounts of money to help the disabled community and continue our research at Mayo Jacksonville for pc early detection. Thank you just never seems enough.

Yesterday we received some news. An MRI revealed a suspicious mass in the reconstructed head of my pancreas. The MRI was ordered by my oncology team due to ongoing weight loss and GI issues I have had since last July.

The doctors believe the pancreas cancer has now metastasized to my Whipple operation site. Many of you know I have mets to my lungs that have remained stable since July 2018. (Another miracle.)

They have ordered an Endoscopic Ultrasound Procedure for June 23rd to biopsy the tumor and confirm 100% the adenocarcinoma has returned to this spot. They are not able to perform this biopsy before that date due to my positive Covid test June 1st. This test would require twilight sedation and therefore must follow CDC Covid protocol of waiting 21 days from the positive test date.

My Mayo team respects my decision to forego chemotherapy as a treatment and maintain the best possible quality of life. 

They are seeking a clinical trial drug that might be successful working with my HER2 (Human Epidermal growth factor Receptor 2–positive). No person with pancreas cancer has ever received this treatment. It is approved to treat early-stage breast cancer. When this drug works for me it could mean that other pancreas cancer patients with this HER2 gene could benefit as well.

So, we ask for prayers for another miracle. Not just for me but for the countless other pc patients who may not have access to or doctors who even are aware of this treatment.

Tommy, me, and our entire family will continue to pray we can graciously accept God’s will for the outcome whatever it might be.

But, here is one thing you can completely count on…when the day comes and my life is over…I win. I will be sitting at the feet of Jesus whole once again in heaven for all of eternity.

If you are not a believer, I pray you will accept Jesus as your personal savior and be able to turn your trials into blessings just as we have.

I love you all and I am forever grateful and humbled by your love, support and prayers.

Waiting for the shoe to drop…

Waiting for the shoe to drop…

October 15th, 2019 was the last time I had a Gemzar Abraxane infusion (chemo therapy) for my pancreas cancer that had metastasized to my lungs. The decision to stop treatment was one I made prayerfully and on my own. As a six year survivor of a lethal cancer with a five year survival rate of single digits, this was a bold move.

My Mayo oncologist, Dr. Mody’s reaction to my decision was surprisingly positive. Last fall I was feeling the effects of prolonged treatment and could actually taste, smell and feel the chemo that had been a part of my life since July 2017 when it was discovered the cancer had moved to my lungs. But, I had become so fatigued and ill, he agreed I needed a break. The holidays were approaching and I wanted to be able to enjoy every moment with my family and most of all my grandchildren who asked when they walked into the house, “Mia, are you in bed today?”

In January of 2018, a CT scan revealed one of my numerous lung spots had doubled in size. It was recommended that chemo be administered every two weeks. So, for as many months I had endured the treatment that would produce flu like symptoms days after and keep me weakened and nauseous.

In mid October of 2019, I contracted an intestinal virus somehow that caused me extreme vomiting and diarrhea and landed me in the hospital for five days. However, the nausea continued after the virus subsided.

The oncologist described my condition beyond the virus as nausea brought on by prolonged chemotherapy…something in my head!

If you follow my blog you know I am a faith filled person. I consider myself to be strong and able to handle discomfort pretty well. While I know the dire statistics that come with this diagnosis, I face life with confidence that God is in control. He determines when He will call me home, not the doctors who treat me with the science He has given them.

I believe He has work for me to do to increase awareness and fight for much needed research that will one day find an early detection for this cancer that kills nearly 20% of us diagnosed within one year.

In the last six years my husband, family, doctors and close friends have supported me unconditionally. They have provided the care I need, whatever it might be, along each set back. God and they have seen me thru some very difficult times.

But, this cancer, that I now look at as a blessing in our lives, has given us so many positive changes. It has brought our family closer to God, closer to one another and also empowered us to start a foundation to fund important research that will result in a simple test that could be administered to patients presenting with family history, predisposition or early symptoms that have been dismissed in the past as other less serious digestive issues.

Every six to eight weeks I go to Mayo for scans and bloodwork to determine the status of my cancer. It is always a time of anxiety and concern as the date approaches. However, I have learned to listen to my body and believe that while I am feeling as good as I can, the cancer must still be at bay.

The last three scans have reported as “stable”. This means that the 13 spots in my lungs, while still evident and growing very slowly, are not at this moment out of control.

I chose to carry on and take in each breath enjoying my family and friends in gratitude for the life we have been blessed with so abundantly until the day …

…the shoe drops.

Scan Update

Scan Update
Scan Update

The holidays were really wonderful this year after taking a much needed three month break from chemo treatments. My last infusion was October 15th and the immediate reaction was extremely difficult. I began to have nausea and digestive issues, chill and fever that afternoon. Two days later I visited the ER for fluids and to attempt to stop the symptoms that were continuing. I was admitted and remained in semi-isolation for five days.

After many blood tests and digestive scans it was determined I had contracted some sort of viral infection. Liver enzymes were spiraling in the wrong direction and I was weak and losing weight.

Several IV antibiotics were prescribed and in a few days, as soon as the liver enzymes began the slow return, and the nausea and such stopped, they sent me home.

To say I was dreading the two week appointment for my next chemo treatment was no exaggeration. But, I headed to Mayo for bloodwork and my oncology appointment. As soon as Dr. Mody entered the consultation room I announced I was going to take a break from my treatments.

His reaction was welcomed. “Good”, he said, agreeing with my unusual non-compliance. “Let’s take a break till mid January and see what we need to do after a CT scan.”

We left his office in high spirits and Tom began to make holiday plans for a trip to NYC and our annual Christmas Eve Open House. I was ecstatic.

We filled the next three months with family fun, parties, trips and dinners. Within a few weeks, I was back to feeling almost normal. Well, better than I had in many months.

I tucked my fears deep and partied on, knowing full well I would have to face the CT scan in January and whatever results it would declare, I would have to accept.

Laying on the table during the scan I prayed that whatever God’s will for me would be, we would handle it. I have the best doctors in the field of oncology to lead me and several treatment plans both conventional and even a little experimental to choose from. But, I knew we would handle the news no matter what it was just as we always had with courage and strength found solely in our faith in God.

My blood work looked good, well better then it had, we only needed now to hear what Dr. Mody would reveal.

My son Scott and daughter Lindsay accompanied me to the appointment as Tommy, my Jospeh was unable to attend. He texted to let him know the results immediately. It was great to have them with me.

As Dr. Mody entered the room I felt a rush of worry. He rushed thru the “hello’s” and as his eyes met mine he said, ” The scan was stable. Everything looks the same.” My eyes filled with tears of joy and the kids both joined in my elation. Dr. Mody suggested we go two months before another scan and no chemo treatments.

Had I continued my treatments I would not have been able to make the sweet memories our family and friends shared during this holiday season. I was once again thankful to God who had lead me to this bold decision.

Prayer is powerful. Family, friends, everyone was praying for me. I knew by the texts and phone calls I received they were lifting me up.

My Jospeh and I count our life in increments of weeks and months, choosing to be grateful for even the days we are able to be together. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if everyone lived this way? After all, none of us are promised tomorrow.

Thanking God for His favor and for my family and friends who battle with me every step of this journey.

I tucked my fears deep and partied on, knowing full well I would have to face the CT scan in January and whatever results it would declare, I would have to accept.

Christmas – Chemo vacation

Christmas – Chemo vacation

The metallic taste and the nausea would begin the moment I thought about my upcoming chemo infusion appointment. Don’t get me wrong, Mayo does everything to make the experience relaxing and comfortable with their individual chemo suites complete with a sofa and table for a guest or two and a large smart TV complete with library of about fifty or more top movies /series including The Mayo Clinic – Faith-Hope- Science, a film based on the PBS documentary by acclaimed filmmaker Ken Burns and his associates Erik Ewers and Christopher Loren Ewers. But, it still wasn’t enough to take the feeling away from the poison dripping slowly into my surgically implanted port, working its way into the chambers of my heart and disbursing throughout my body, seeking out those pancreatic cancer cells it was intended to destroy. I truly could taste it smell it and, after 14 months of chemo, I dreaded it.

Truth is, I had somehow contracted a viral infection days before my last infusion October 15, 2019. My already compromised body now was taking on a chemo cocktail that would make a healthy body sick. But we had no way of knowing. The bloodwork taken prior to the chemo prescription being prepared didn’t show anything unusual. As soon a I returned home from my infusion I became ill. This was not my typical routine. The nausea had never come on strong and hard the first day. It was always sort of building and hit hard around the third day after.

Two days later I was admitted into the hospital in semi-isolation to determine the source of my nausea and digestive issues. Five days later I went home only when my liver enzymes reported they were heading in the right direction. Doctors agreed it was a viral infection. It took another three weeks for me to recover. I had lost my appetite and about 12 pounds and was weak from being in bed.

Whatever it was….I didn’t want to experience it again. In just a few days I was scheduled to have chemo again. I could taste it and feel it and was dreading it already.

November 11th I was scheduled and dutifully reported for my blood work and oncology consult with Dr. Mody. But, as soon as he walked into the consultation room, I told him I had made a decision…I was not going to be taking chemo today. I was taking a break. he smiled and said “Good.”

His reaction was just what I hoped it would be. Medically we both knew I should be taking it, however, emotionally I just couldn’t do it. I think he saw that too.

We agreed to schedule a CT Scan mid January. That would give me a three month break. I could enjoy Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years with our big family. It was perfect.

And, enjoy we did. Grocery shopping, planning the Thanksgiving meal, Tom’s Dad coming down from Cleveland, it was great. Then Christmas decorating, cookie decorating, shopping, wrapping and celebrating, a quick trip to NYC, holiday parties and family, family, family. We were overjoyed.

What will happen January 17th with the CT Scan? Only God knows. We trust that He will lead us to the perfect decision of what treatment, if any we will choose. Until then, I will enjoy feeling whole and not missing out on one moment of one day.

Thank you for this time precious Jesus.

Thomas and Olive
Grandpa, Lindsay Mick and Jude – TPC Tree Lighting
Christmas Decorating
Hudson Yards Lunch
Scotty, Blake, Taylor, Abby, Olivia and Tommy – PVIC Christmas Eve
Taylor, Tommy, Mia, Jayden, Olivia and Abby
Del Frisco’s
Family dinner

Following God’s prompting…

Following God’s prompting…

During my journey I have had to make some difficult decisions regarding treatment options. Praying about these decisions has brought me great comfort. Truthfully, I have given my life to God. We always pray for God’s will for us. This has lifted the burden of worry from my shoulders. Once again, I am thankful for my strong faith and ability to trust in the one who gave me life and already has it all mapped out…regardless of my input.

The month of October we faced a very serious challenge. After celebrating my 70th birthday with a trip to Napa and Vegas, I was hit with some sort of viral infection. (Or so the doctors have guess.) Just a few days after returning home, I took my scheduled chemotherapy infusion. The normal side effects seemed to hit me three days sooner than in the past and I found myself extremely ill with extreme digestive issues. By the end of the week, I was dehydrated and weak, yet still no fever.

Dr. Mody, my oncologist instructed me to go to the Mayo Emergency Department for hydration and blood tests. That afternoon I was admitted and spent five days in semi-isolation. ( Could have visitors but they had to wear gowns, until they determined the source of my condition.) The blood tests revealed declining numbers in my liver and other areas causing serious concern.

My potassium and magnesium needed a boost in one infusion and antibiotics in the other arm. My port could not be accessed for fear of contamination. For four days my digestive issues continued with a vengeance.

Finally on the fifth day, blood tests revealed I had turned the corner and were slowly heading in the right direction. The digestive issues had also subsided. It seemed the full dose of chemo I had received had been just too much for my body to withstand.

But, this was not the end. I continued to feel weak and had lost about ten pounds. (Thanking God I had a few extra pounds to shed.) I had no appetite and struggled to drink the water that would help bring me back. This continued for two more weeks.

Once again, my amazing family, friends and prayer warriors were busy praying. Deacon Dan and Fr. Matt King visited me in the hospital to administer the anointing of the sick and the Holy Eucharist. My bible study group and CRHP sisters from OLSS were lifting me up. Prayers have been heard and answered. I am truly on the mend.

It was time for my monthly chemo infusion and I was dreading it. I had prayerfully decided to ask Dr. Mody if I could take two months off from my treatment to regain my strength and make some holiday memories with the family. He agreed with a smile!

Thanking God for answering my prayers for discernment once again, as He has done with every decision I have made on this journey thus far.

My fellow PC warrior and dear friend Connie Phillips has gifted me with this beautiful nativity to remind me of Mary and Joseph and miracle of hope at Christmas.

“I Can Only Imagine…”

“I Can Only Imagine…”

The nurse covered me with a warmed blanket. The life killing chemo drugs were coursing through my body making me feel chilled. The blanket felt like heaven.

I have now lost track of how many chemo infusions I have received. But, my oncologist says I am a good responder to chemo. So we stay on course. I am currently on what he calls “chemo maintenance.” Just one infusion once a month. Truth is, I am afraid to stop taking it.

The last scan revealed the eleven plus tumors in my lungs , my recurrence of pancreas cancer, are not growing. That is the best possible news we could hope for.

My sweet Tommy is comfortable on the couch in the chemo suite as we watch the movie we have chosen for today. “I Can Only Imagine”, the true story of Bart Millard the lead singer of the band MercyMe.

The story is riveting of this young Greenville, Texas boy who’s mother left home leaving him in the care of an abusive alcoholic father. His only salvation was his love of music that led him to the protection of his true Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ.

After returning home at one point in the movie, Bart and his father have their usual explosive fight and Bart runs out of the house and tries to leave on his motorcycle. In a twist of fate, the bike won’t start but Bart is determined to leave and jumps into his dad’s truck where he finds a pamphlet in the visor about Pancreatic Cancer.

His dad was dying.

Bart takes his father to church where he accepts Jesus Christ as his personal Lord and Savior. This man who had been broken all of his life was transformed.

Bart’s struggles with his musical career were exhausting but he knew he had a song deep within him. He continued to search for it, journaling lyrics and strumming his guitar.

Finally it comes to him. “I Can Only Imagine”.

Bart’s agent felt the song could be the hit they had all been searching for but considered giving it to an established singer, Amy Grant. She loved the song as everyone who heard it did and she was set to perform it to a packed concert hall.

Amy Grant stood on stage, guitar in hand as the first bars of the song played. But she could not sing. She knew the song was going to be a hit. She also knew Bart Millard the songwriter. She stopped and told the crowd, “This is not my song to sing…meet Bart Millard, and this is his song.” Surprised Bart takes the stage and slowly begins to sing his beautiful song . As he looks out over the crowd, the seats are all empty except for one. His father was sitting in the middle of the hall with a heavenly light streaming all around him and smiling the look of a proud father.

I Can Only Imagine https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LonOTKVmkeo

I can only imagine what it will be like
When I walk, by your side
I can only imagine what my eyes will see
When you face is before me
I can only imagine
I can only imagineSurrounded by You glory
What will my heart feel
Will I dance for you Jesus
Or in awe of You be still
Will I stand in your presence
Or to my knees will I fall
Will I sing hallelujah
Will I be able to speak at all
I can only imagine
I can only imagineI can only imagine when that day comes
When I find myself standing in the Son
I can only imagine when all I would
do is forever
Forever worship You
I can only imagine
I can only imagineSurrounded by Your glory
What will my heart feel
Will I dance for You, Jesus
Or in awe of you be still
Will I stand in your presence
Or to my knees will I fall
Will I…

Tommy and I left the chemo suite in tears. It was such a heartbreaking story with the perfect ending. We were visibly touched. What a wonderful way to spend this difficult day. We knew it was a sign from God that Bart’s dad had pancreatic cancer.

Two days went by and I was suffering from the effects of the chemo drugs attacking my body. I got a call from a friend inviting Tommy and I to join she and her husband the next night at a concert …..”Mercy Me” !! I told her yes we would go not really knowing if my body would be strong enough.

At the concert we were thrilled to see Bart onstage with the rest of his band. They played several great songs and near the end of the show sang “I Can Only Imagine”. Tommy and I sat close and felt he was singing only to the two of us. It was a magical moment. We felt God’s presence.

And, as our Lord would have it…there is always a message. Bart explained about his final song…..”We Win”.

“No matter what is happening in your life today, no matter how messed up the world is right now, none of this matters because if you have Jesus Christ in your life, when we lay our head down to rest….You win. You get to spend eternity with a loving living God.”

Again we were brought to tears. This was the message God had for us that night. We win.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0AQ3bHr80PM

P.S. Bart Millard, I don’t know if you will ever see this page, but if you do, I would love to have a few minutes of your time to share our story with you

Source: LyricFind

I choose to believe God…

I choose to believe God…

They say that pancreas cancer tumors rarely disappear with chemo. Usually the best you can ask for is a stable scan where no new tumors develop and the ones you have don’t show any significant growth. Well, the two images above are a comparison from six weeks ago to yesterday after I completed my chemotherapy regimen of Abraxane and Gemcitabine. The 2.5cm tumor on the right is ALMOST gone.

My oncologist, Dr. Mody did not perform a biopsy on the tumor to determine unequivocally it was pancreas cancer. The pathology reports from the lung resections had confirmed pancreas cancer mets, but some of the tumors may have been benign. We will never confirm scientifically that this tumor was or was not of pancreas cancer origin. But, we do know it almost disappeared thanks to the chemo treatment.

I believe that God heard the prayers of you, His faithful servants. I believe He has more work for me to do. I believe I have been given more time, and I plan to use it to honor and glorify Him every single day.

In two weeks I will begin another chemo treatment plan to hopefully take care of the rest of that tumor. I am so thankful for your positive thoughts and prayers.

They are working.

The ticking time bomb…

The ticking time bomb…

Every six weeks we face a CT scan and MRI to determine what is happening deep within my lungs with the tumors that were discovered to be metastasized pancreas cancer in late June 2018. Blood work is drawn and can be a precursor for activity of the tumors, but not always. The anticipation we endure is indescribable. It is like living with a ticking time bomb in your body, never knowing when the bomb will go off.

Today the bomb went off. One of the newest tumors in my left lung doubled in size in just six weeks.

The other eight tumors in my right lung remained stable. But now there are two or three in my left lung and Dr. Ko remarked that “the one that grew pretty significantly is concerning.”

My cancer mets are now considered “progressive”.

Now we face decision time. What are our treatment options we ask our radiology oncologist who specializes in lung disease? Dr. Ko works side by side with my hematology oncologist to guide us. His answer today was a possible targeted therapy that would focus on eradicating the tumor with radiation. The plus side is the treatment would offer limited side effects with only a five percent chance of effecting my lung capacity. And, it would not effect my quality of life, which to this time has been amazingly good. The down side is it will not effect the other tumors whatsoever. After the targeted radiation therapy we would typically wait six more weeks for a CT scan. Now that the cancer is progressive, it is impossible to determine if the other tumors will begin to grow as well.

Between appointments we visited our church to talk to God about the latest development and to pray for strength and courage and discernment to make the right decisions. He never disappoints. We both left the church feeling a peaceful calm. Thank goodness we have our faith.

The second option is aggressive chemotherapy. this would in fact attempt to eradicate all the tumors and hopefully make some disappear, the others to shrink. But, the downside is the side effects of aggressive therapy. My quality of life for eight weeks and a few beyond would suffer.

So what do we do?

My amazing husband has two trips planned. One, an annual trip to Vegas for Super Bowl and a Lady Gaga concert…and a trip to Southern California to accompany him to a trade show in late March. Will I be able to make these trips we ask? Dr. Mody studies the calendar and comes up with some dates. It looks like we can make this work.

I tolerated the chemo regimen very well the first time, no reason to think I won’t this time. I might be a little tired, but I know I can make it. I won’t let this stop me from living my best life.

We begin chemo on Saturday. Thank you Jesus!

I hope I can make it to Lady Gaga…

Is it working?

Is it working?

The alarm sounded at 6AM and I sat up slowly in bed. Our CT scan was scheduled for 7:25. I showered and applied the lidocaine cream to my port longing for a cup cf creamy hot coffee. But not this morning. At least not until after the scan. I reached for two of the oblong orange chemo pills careful not to touch them, I swallowed hard as they traveled down my throat on a mission of destruction. Today we would determine if the drug was doing its’ job. We would know if it was working. We would learn if prayers were answered.

Tom dressed in his familiar purple Jude’s Dudes tee shirt and cream colored shorts. I found something light and comfortable knowing it would be a warm fall day. We continued with our familiar routine, fed the dog, checked the doors and left the house just as the sun was beginning to peak thru. We were silent in the car as we both wondered how the day would unfold. Would we return home with good news or bad news. It was always that same aching feeling inside.

Four years, six months, seven days we have lived with this cloud hovering overhead. Scans every three months were always the same. Some small pain would appear a few weeks approaching the date. Could it be the return of the beast? Well, this time was a bit different. We knew the beast had returned. Now we faced a different set of concerns. And they were more defining. They were more worrisome. What was happening deep within my body that would predict how the next three months would be spent.

Trips were planned, holidays were approaching. Our favorite time of year to gather to celebrate with our four children and their husbands and wives, and our eight and a half grand children…our extended family and friends. Would Tommy be making the flight and hotel reservations for our Thanksgiving trip? Would I be strong enough to enjoy all the plans? That question would be answered in a few short hours. But, for now, happiness swung in the balance.

We parked the car and walked toward the hospital hand in hand as we always do, entered and took the elevate to the second floor. The line was already long. It seemed lately the hospital was filled with more people then ever. We checked in and took a seat near the double doors. About half and hour later a nurse called my name and I left Tom and followed her thru the doors and back to a small treatment room. Her tray was prepared as I took a seat in the lounge chair marked ” Clean for use”. The nurse who recognized me was wide eyed and smiling as she shared how hard the weekend transition from Daylight savings time had been for her children.. everyone up far too early. She handed me a paper mask as she prepared to clean the area around my port with alcohol and unsealed the power port access needle. We continued to talk until she said , “OK take a deep breath.” I felt the needle puncture the port and tasted the saline solution as she flushed to make sure we had a good access. She placed a clear plastic shield over the port and taped the access tube in place. “There, you are all set.” Just like every time before. “You can return to the waiting room. Just drink these two glasses of contrast, the second glass to this line.” As she escorted me to the lobby.

I rejoined Tom and we sat looking at the people in the crowded room from the sickest to the healthiest. Some in wheelchairs, some coughing with tubes and oxygen tanks. Some speaking foreign languages….some looking perfectly healthy. But, you wonder…why are they here and knowing they were wondering the same thing about us.

About half an hour later a man called my name. I recognized his voice. He’s the one on the taped recording ….”Take a deep breath in …and hold it”. I had seen him before and he recognized me too. We made our way back thru the hallway to the room that held the large white circular tube that would determine my fate. He offered me a heated blanket as he instructed me to lay on the narrow bed that would slide into the tube. He hooked me up to the small tube that would inject the contrast at one point during the procedure. I raised my hands above my head as he looped the tiny tube around my fingers above my head. “Ah, you know the drill.” And before I knew it the machine was humming and I lay alone in the room with that machine.

The scan only takes about ten minutes thankfully. As soon as I was finished and unhooked I walked back toward Tommy. A large hot English Breakfast tea would soon be in my hands. We would eat breakfast before the test results and our meeting with our Radiology Oncologist at 10:25AM who would give us the answers we have been waiting for. Dr. Ko was the one who had been graphing the nodes since he found the first one in my lungs two years ago. The ones he swore were treatable early onset lung cancer.

We returned to the hospital and made our way to the first floor radiology department and checked in at the desk. We sat on the wall near the brass bell. The one the patients ring when they complete their final radiation treatment. The one I had rung four years ago. It wasn’t long before our friendly nurse Laurie escorted us back, took my vitals and asked me general questions, “Are you in pain, what is the level of pain one to ten.” etc.etc. “Dr. Ko is behind today, I apologize for the wait, but he’ll be with you soon.”

The first few minutes when he entered the room I was fearful. But, he held a paper in his hand with several notes he had made upon reviewing my scan. “it appears the node in your left lung has disappeared” The right lung nodes are stable with even the largest one reducing in size.” “No more new nodes.” My eyes began to tear up. “So, the chemo pills are working?” I asked. “Yes, they are doing just what we hoped they would do.”

I really didn’t hear much of the conversation he and Tommy had beyond that. My heart leaped with joy. I felt like the sunshine had just appeared and I felt light headed. It was better news than I had prayed for.

Was it the healing ministry prayers, my bible study prayer warriors, my family and friends who had texted me that morning. God had graced us once again with good news, with another three months of reprieve. Cancer wasn’t going to rain on our holidays this year. We said our thankful prayers to God as we sat alone together. “Lord, you continue to favor us with your grace. We give you the complete glory for this and we pray that others see this example and are filled with your Holy Spirit.

Yes, it is working.

Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.” Mark 10:27/NIV