The Beanstalk

"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." 2 Corinthians 4:8

My son-in-law came up with a clever name for the cancer in my thoracic cavity, as he tried to explain my cancer to my very young grandchildren - a Beanstalk. I loved the picture it painted as I envisioned it winding around the organs that reside there. I am now always greeted with the question "Mimi, is the beanstalk still in your chest?"  And I answer, "Yes, it is, but don't stop praying for it to go away!" 

All the talk about beanstalks led my thoughts to giants. Not a new metaphor by any means, but one that fits so many of the issues we all wake up to each morning. Giants of all kinds plague our lives as we struggle with doubt, anxiety and fears. I can honestly say I have been in the land of giants the last couple of weeks.

August 15, 2017 was one of the most emotionally draining days I have faced in my life, thus far. My sis, Jessica, and I prayed and read scripture again in the car, as we asked for clarity regarding the information we would hear and the decisions that would follow. Two appointments - one with the medical oncologist and another with the radiation oncologist. We knew these meetings would reveal what treatment would be available for a now Stage IV metastatic Lung Cancer patient. I had read enough about this type of cancer to know my options were few, but hearing them out loud, gripped my soul. We asked our many questions of the Medical Oncologist. The best he could offer was to extend my life a bit and told me he would put together a plan for my treatment, based on genetic mutations, should I decide to proceed with chemo. 

On to the radiation oncologist. She was a stark contrast to the Medical Oncologist, who was all business. She spoke gently as she delivered news that said she could try to shrink the tumor in my chest to help me breathe easier, but some risks would be involved. Her kindness brought tears to my eyes, and as she saw them resting on my bottom eyelids, she embraced me. We all shed tears at that moment at the stark reality of having this kind of advanced cancer. 

So you are probably wondering what happened to the women who were "not shaken" at the last appointment. We were still there, but after these two appointments we simply were emotionally wiped out. I was numb and exhausted as I struggled to come to terms with my own mortality. Conversations with my other two children were difficult as they were not nearby, and unable to grasp all they were hearing. We were all facing the giants that day; the real kind, the ones that keep us up at night. The ones that race into our minds when we are confused, alone, or afraid. The ones that cause us to shout "Enough is enough! I can't take anymore!"

It has been 11 days and I feel like David in the Bible - one day he was crying out in desperation, and the next day he is praising the Lord!  I started a separate journal that consists of how God is working through this time. It is filling up quickly as I watch relationships healed, amazing provision made for my daughter's family to move back to California, a new grandchild on the way, the love of family, friendships restored, the fact that I actually feel pretty good right now, and the many and creative ways so many of you have reached out to me. I am refocusing on what this is really all about as I move further away from fear and closer to resting in the Savior.

There is so much more, but I will save for another post. Wednesday, August 30 we will have a complete plan and then can make some decisions. I had an MRI today to determine if the cancer is in the brain. It is heavy on my heart, but God already knows and is helping me find peace as He makes a way. One day at a time...