Fingernails, Burns, and Chemo Curl

My chest and the skin under my right arm were more severely burned than I had thought, so that for about two weeks following my final radiation treatment I had a significant amount of pain. Healing has come, although my chest wall is still tender after having a layer of all my skin in that area peel away in ugly grey strips. I’m thanking God that I developed no infection.

A result of the chemotherapy is that I am losing all my fingernails. As the old ones slough off, new nails are growing, beautiful and fresh. No pain at all.

DSC_4226Chemo curl. I’ve always had very straight, fine hair, and when I heard about the chance of curls developing after chemo, I ordered some! Voila! I now have curls, and am loving it. I’ve read fairly extensively about this phenomenon, but no one seems to know why this change often develops after chemo treatments. Usually the change is temporary; I’m hoping mine will be permanent.

I am feeling extremely well, and believe all my strength has returned. My 78th birthday was the 24th of July and my children threw me a delightful party in San Diego at the South Beach Jetty of the Pacific. Three grandchildren came home with Jerry and me, and at the end of their visit of almost a week I felt no more tired than I would have before this little session with cancer. I am extremely grateful, and with all my heart worship Jesus because of His extreme mercy to me.

Again, I want to thank each of you who is following me during this little detour. Your love, prayers, and comments are wonderfully significant to me. I treasure every word you are kind enough to send.

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Sixty and Eighteen Go Together

It is the 18th day. It is the 60th year.

…….Counting the one this morning, eighteen is the number of radiation treatments I have had.

……Totaling them all, sixty is the number of years Jerry and I have been married. Today is our anniversary.

A year or so ago, as we talked about this momentous occasion and how we would celebrate it, high on our list was a Mediterranean cruise. Then came November 2015, my routine mammogram, and the quite unexpected diagnosis of breast cancer that had spread to my lymph nodes. We changed plans. The cruise deal was out, but after my chemo was finished and I had regained my strength, here in Crestline, we would have a nice party with our family and close friends. We decided on a date and made sure all our children were free at that time. Then Dr. Chan recommended I meet with a radiation doctor. I did so, and was shocked when Dr. Ro advised me to have 25 radiation treatments. We cancelled the party plans, understanding that when today arrived, I would be deeply into daily radiation treatments, and not knowing how sick or well I would be feeling.

So, today is the big day, and despite no momentous celebration, I am extraordinarily happy. And Jerry is happy. God has been extremely good to us. Blessed us. Favored us. Chose us. Gave us four remarkable children, a passel of grandchildren, a flock of great-grandchildren, and an enormous group of exceptional friends and other family.

Rebecca went with us to Ontario for my treatment, then we all went to The Cheesecake Factory in Victoria Gardens for lunch. Delicious food. Rebecca snapped a couple of pictures.

 

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Toward the end of Summer or the beginning of Fall, we plan to take a road trip up the coast of California. We have wonderful friends scattered here and there in this great western part of the United States, and we haven’t seen some of you for a long time. Maybe we’ll pop in for a visit. 🙂

EDIT: Just as I was finishing up this piece, a delivery lady  brought to our home the most beautiful deep red roses. Jerry grinned as she brought them in to me. Sure enough: Love, from Jerry. He is the best!

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Lessons in the Weeds

At Kaiser this morning, they took me in early for my 14th radiation treatment, so before noon we were back in Crestline, and since it was so early we decided to go to the lodge and have lunch with our senior friends there. We were more than half an hour early, so while Jerry signed us in and found seats, I would take a few pictures. I took my camera out of its bag. “I’ll snap a couple of pictures, then be right in,” I told Jerry.

I learned lessons during those few minutes this late morning and want to share them with you.

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I walked across a small field. Shaded by lofty oak trees, the land lay in shadowed darkness, so dense in some directions that I was unable to discern the objects that made up the short distance toward the creek bed. Then my eyes were drawn to a shinning pattern, for in the middle of the unlit, dusky regions glowed this round of glorious light.

This first lesson is obvious. In the midst of darkness, sorrow, and gloom, there always can be found a packet of light, a spot of joy, a round of glory. God is its source, and when we find ourselves frightened, surrounded by dreadful circumstances, unsure of anything, then is the moment to look about us . . .and find the light!

I sat down on a small bridge area and watched. Waited. Among the weeds little bugs were jumping, and as I looked closely, I saw they were lady bugs. I didn’t have a really fine lens with me, for this morning I had decided to take my oldest lens out of my camera bag, and use it for the day. So with my humble 18-55 Nikon kit lens, I photographed this fine lady. (Are there men lady bugs? Hmm . . . guess so or we wouldn’t have any baby lady bugs, would we?)

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The second lesson was also obvious to me, for as I stared, focussed, and refocussed on this tiny bug, I saw with comprehending eyes its struggle to reach the top of this drooping weed. She fell more than once as a small wind blew the plant back and forth. But she persevered, and when I left her she had neared the top.

So, as I walk my cancer detour, I too will persevere and will pick myself up if I fall. . .and if I do I will climb again.

And you? We’re all faced with disappointments, challenges we didn’t expect . . .but also with opportunity to fight more, seek the light, and climb higher. Onward!

 

Radiation and Celebrations

When I learned that Gentry’s high school graduation day would be toward the middle of my radiation treatments, I was not sure I would be able to attend, for the threat of side-effects, and especially of extreme fatigue was on my mind.

DSC_3559However, last Thursday came, the special day, and I was feeling wonderful. At 10:00 in the morning I had my 11th treatment. When it was finished Jerry headed our already loaded Jeep toward San Diego. We stopped for food then drove to Andrew and Shawnna’s home (Gentry’s parents) where we visited a couple of hours before it was time to leave. The graduation exercise were held in the open air theatre of San Diego State University. Beautiful. Very impressive. So very proud of Gentry. A meal for the family and friends at Lidos Italian restaurant followed. It was late when we plopped down on the comfy bed in Andrew’s home.

For breakfast Andrew took us to a charming place in La Jolla where we ate outside, the magnificent Pacific in our distant view.

Treatment number 12 was scheduled for early afternoon, so we said our good-byes and traveled again to Ontario Kaiser Permanente.

On Saturday, Mike and Melina drove over from Lake Havasu for Father’s Day. Jerry smoked scrumptious ribs, I added a few things, and on the back deck we four feasted.

Sunday morning: Father’s Day

We four joined Rebecca at her church in Rialto for a delightful service, then for lunch we met with Melina’s parents and others of her family at Martha Greene’s in Redlands.

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Rebecca and Michael hugged up with their daddy.

This morning I completed my 13th treatment. I feel wonderful! Onward!

 

Sweetness Within the Detour

Well before I was aware of myself as a singular being, I was immersed into what is referred to as the Christian tradition. Peering through my baby eyes into the faces of my mom and dad who bent lovingly over me, I was ignorant of the favored circumstances into which I had been born. It has been said that within every human culture is the innate desire to worship something. Whether it be to a god of millions, a chiseled stone, or an animal of the field, we intrinsically thrust our arms upward, lift our eyes to the heavens in response to this need we have to worship.

Christians worship Jesus Christ, the God-Man, the incarnate One, who, having assumed a human form when He was born in Bethlehem of Judea, lived on the earth for a short period of time, then was crucified, but rose from the dead and ascended into Heaven. His shed blood is the source of our redemption. A glorious facet of Christianity is that we experience a personal relationship with Jesus, and are of the keen thought that He hears us when we pray, and that He is distinctly aware of us, and of our situations.

Imagine my delight then as I walk this rugged detour to have one of my four children, my son Andrew, call me today, and after regaling me with encouraging words, say, “Mom, I want to pray with you. Right now.” And so he did. This child, born favored and unknowing as was I, in a simple, informal way, spoke with Jesus, and asked Him to touch his mother. I wept, and added my supplications.

Such are the smooth stones intermingled with that of the rough and sharp of my ugly detour. Such are the tiny flowers scattered about the trail as I go. Such is the sweet incense I press beneath my feet as I press forward.

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