Medical Update Reflections

Janet and Joe in Kuwait, 1982-1984

Everything in life changes, including bucket lists. When I learned I had cancer and struggled through two surgeries, a round of chemo, and another round of continuous chemo and radiation, plus the side effects of it all, I thought, "When this is finished, I'll travel to those places I'd like to see." I had in mind China, India, re-visit Italy and France, but especially, I'll see Seattle (where my daughter Jennifer lives), and spend some time in Tennessee. Since my last post, my bucket list has shrunk.

Yesterday, I learned, barring a miraculous intervention, my time here on earth is fast coming to a close. Now, I have been diagnosed with metastatic pancreatic cancer. My first pancreatic cancer spread cancer cells throughout my body via the blood even before my Whipple surgery. At the time of the Whipple, nothing showed up on the scans, the surgeon saw no signs of metastasis, felt no additional masses, yet the cancer had spread. If they had known that it had spread already, they would not have put me through a Whipple.

Even in March, when I was in the hospital and they were running all sorts of tests to find out why my liver enzymes were elevated and why I was so swollen with fluid, nothing showed up on the scans, or through any of the battery of tests. But now my cancer has shown itself to be metastasized (mass on incision site, spots in my liver, and areas of my stomach lining). When asked what the average life span is of someone diagnosed with metastatic pancreatic cancer, my oncologist said 9-11 months. He has known some to live longer, maybe 1-2 years, and has heard of a few more that have lived longer then that, but some only lived 3-4 months, give or take. Suddenly, traveling to far away places does not appeal.

Charlie (Chuck) 3rd grade

I don't want to spend what precious time and energy I have left, traveling to and fro. I'd still like to see those places, would still like to visit Jennifer in her new city, did get to travel to Tennessee and Alabama, but now, I just want to stay home and finish those projects that mean the most to me.

David (3 yrs) and Jennifer (8 yrs)

Roger, Virginia, Linnea, Richard, Patty, Janet, Bob

How am I dealing with this latest news? Though I highly suspected this was the case, though I know no one really knows the day or the hour, hearing the average time for those with pancreatic cancer that has metastasized is 9-11 months makes me incredibly sad, in particular for my children, my grand-children, my family, my friends and for Joe. I wish they didn't have to go through this. I wish I could spare them the heartache. I'm not fearful. Grace surrounds and infuses me with love.

I'll still pray for healing. The oncologist said chemo can possibly slow down the progression of the disease, but will not cure it. Only God can do that now. I will start chemo again on Wednesday, 3 weeks on, 1 week off and in two months we'll re-evaluate with CT scans. If at any time it seems like to all concerned the chemo is not enhancing my quality of life, or is doing more harm than good, or is not diminishing the mass or spots, and in fact increasing them, we will stop. I trust that God can heal, but am realistic to know, that for whatever reason, not everyone is healed, and those who are healed will live to face death again. Death comes to us all, sooner or later.

My new bucket list?
Make scrapbooks for Charlie, Jennifer, and David with pics, memorabilia I've collected, and my reflections (hopefully time to make a little one for the grand-kids too
Write reflections on my own life events for my children and family
Keep Babblings updated as I progress
Visit with all I can, simplify, enjoy

Pray for healing but if healing means going "home," then pray grace, mercy, peace, and dignity attend me on the way. Ya'll come see me!


"God of grace and God of glory,
On Thy people pour thy power;
Crown Thine ancient Church's story,
Bring her bud to glorious flower.
Grant us wisdom,
Grant us courage,
For the facing of this hour,
For the facing of this hour.

Lo! the hosts of evil round us
Scorn Thy Christ, assail His ways!
From the fears that long have bound us,
Free our hearts to faith and praise.
Grant us wisdom,
Grant us courage,
For the living of these days,
For the living of these days."
Harry Emerson Fosdick (1878-1969)

Grace bids me fly and gives me wings

2010 (C) Shelly Stotts Photography, used by permission

It's inevitable. Everything in life changes. Nothing stays the same. Change is unsettling and sometimes it bears down on us with a vengeance. In the midst of changes, one more thing, seems too much.

Though grace is available to fly above our circumstances, viewing life from the perspective of eternity, it's seems easier, for me at least, during those times, to clam up, pull in, and remain earthbound. My vision of life narrows to include only that which lies beneath my feet.

A careless observer might think that faith was absent, lost somewhere under a weight of fear, loneliness, or those dreaded "what ifs" or equally debilitating, "if onlys." With the 20/20 vision of hindsight, it's been my experience, however, that those times are the richest in terms of eternity, because "...God has a thousand ways, each in his own way, of touching the soul." Benedict XVI

Often, in the darkness of the uncertainty of change, God is doing a hidden inner work. If we wait for it, expect it, giving God full access to our soul, without hiding beneath either "the poor mes," or the false bravado of denial, one day, we will be surprised to find ourselves standing, spreading our wings of grace, eager to fly.

"Do this and live," the law commands,
But gives me neither feet nor hands.
A better way his grace doth bring,
It bids me fly and gives me wings
Alleluia  (by John Fischer)