Change of plans

 A practical update of sorts--Scott is not going to be starting drug therapy tomorrow as planned.  The Monday before last when we met with the oncologist, the plans for this week were made, still contingent on the results of a molecular breakdown from the last biopsy.  We were assured that those results would be back before the day of scheduled treatment--so that if we were given a more targeted drug approach, we would get that started instead of chemo.  As of today, those results were still not in so we suppose that it was assumed we would just start the 7 hour infusion of general chemo tomorrow. 

That just didn't sit well.  We have waited 4 additional weeks because the importance of the molecular breakdown had been emphasized.  And I could get into the nitty gritty of what these few days of waiting looks like for us.....of the warfare that comes, the confusion and fight to try to push for answers or just show up to the infusions without asking a question.  But this is a blog, not a therapy session. There's a strange tightrope we walk between taking action, advocating and fighting with the healthcare community and for Scott.....and just trusting because we know God is ultimately in charge here. 

Today, Scott decided to just trust.  He felt strongly that God had been in conversations recently about waiting for the molecular breakdown.  So as today went on, he felt like moving toward chemo tomorrow and "burning the house down" so to speak was premature.  We agonize over these decisions sometimes...but we called on some of our army to pray as we struggled.  And I believe Scott's peace he has in deciding to wait for the molecular breakdown before starting treatment is both the peace that comes from listening to the Lord and from many holding up our arms.   There's a whole lot of other jumbled up thoughts and emotions wrapped up in there...but that's basically it.  We are scheduled for treatment now September 2nd and expect to have the molecular breakdown before that. 

My mom shared a verse with me today, as she was squaring me up in a hard moment.  Romans 15:13 says: 

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope."  

It's super meaty.  Fill you--in believing--power of the Holy Spirit, abound in hope.  In a margin of my Bible there, I have written hope: confident trust; expectation.  We do not know what God will do.  We don't know if we will be privy to the reason or purpose for all this waiting.  But we confidently trust with expectation that our God is up to something.  The Enemy scares us into believing that God doesn't have our best interest-that He's forgotten us-that He isn't active.  But we are waiting with expectation to be filled up in believing--while believing with all our weight-that God is here with us! That we are not forgotten.  And I am so grateful for today where Scott heard from the Lord and feels confident in that-even if it just gets us through to one more day.  

This is hard.  We have some raw, vulnerable moments that aren't pretty.  But today I pictured the people who were praying for us, just those praying today even, gathered in our backyard and I was so humbled, it choked me up.  We are very blessed and extremely covered.  Please don't stop. 

Drug Therapy-Next Steps

 Being honest, I don't want to write.  And it's not because I have anything hard or bad to say....I guess sometimes not talking about things can feel almost temporarily normal.  

Scott had a follow up appointment yesterday with the medical oncologist we're working with at KU.  We were expecting the molecular breakdown to be back so we could know if a targeted drug treatment plan was an option.  It's not back yet.  No one seems to feel quite as impatient about that as I do.  They say it's normal and we should have that this week.  The hard part is what we call having eaten the apple--we've seen the scans.  You can't unsee it.  And no matter how hard we play mental gymnastics, you have to wonder what that cancer is doing in there!  We want it gone!  

So the plan right now is tentative...Scott is scheduled to start a combo chemotherapy next Wednesday.  He will get infusions for 7 straight hours, just one day, and repeat 3 weeks later.  It's a more standard, stereotypical chemo--may be nauseated, fatigued, lose his hair, etc.  This is the plan IF the molecular breakdown says that a targeted approach wouldn't be better.  IF it shows that there's a targeted approach, we will begin that next week.  Either way, we have a plan. 

That should all feel good and productive.  And in a way it does.  I guess I just remembered yesterday that Scott has cancer.  I know...duh.  But man, it's a mental, emotional, physical fight every single day to ward off the Enemy...to fight the thoughts and fears.  And sometimes you are able to coast for just a few days, or even a week and feel like Scott and Lauren.  But yesterday, my guard came down a bit and I felt human and vulnerable.   Like I was cheerleading and jumping up and down to a crowd in bleachers full of scientists and serious faces that made no expression.  It's exhausting!  And I kind of broke down.  I'm sad that Scott has to go through this.  I'm anxious about the future.  I'm unsure of what God is going to do.  And you wonder in moments of humanity if He's working-if He's moving.  Are you putting a tsunami in there God?  Are you hearing the prayers of a 6 year old and sweeping it out like dust?  

But again, when there's much I don't know....there are things I do know.  I know that God has been active in parts of every day.  We have seen His love and presence in some great Spirit filled conversations with our kids.  We see Him not forgetting us when our friends, who have lives and kids, still text and pray with Spirit-led words and Scripture.  I hear Him in worship songs.  I see Him in Scott-when I wonder how this is a loving story and God gently reminds me that the way Scott loves me is God in Him.  And I just cry singing "He is jealous for me....I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way...He loves us".  I know our God doesn't sleep--and he's not asleep on the job here.  And I feel immature and faithless that I rely on the reminders of that every day.  But like a friend reminded me today, God isn't looking for spiritual giants and theologians.  He is looking for us to walk with Him.  To lean into Him.  To dwell with Him.  So here I am, dwelling.  Pressing in, when I want to pull back.  Because I know that no matter what I don't know...that He is still on the throne and He is still with me.  Just those 2 things together are mind blowing.  The God of the Universe is with me.  Wow.  Hang out there today.  

Radiation and the wait

My silence must be making people nervous-as my phone has blown up the last 24 hours with requests to know what's going on!  Sorry 'bout that.

Scott is finishing up his 5 days of radiation on one spot this morning, as we speak! He really hasn't felt any side effects and was told yesterday, he is pretty much restriction free after today!  They didn't recommend riding a dirt bike, but that was about it! 

We have kind of settled into a rhythm of wait the last week or so.  Radiation was a good box to check.  We have an appointment in a couple weeks with the oncologist that will be the one that decides what type of drug therapy (chemo, immunotherapy, some cocktail combo) is best for this type of cancer and it's molecular breakdown.  Scott goes to work and I'm selling houses and we almost seem normal.  Whatever that means!

Waiting is probably not one of my spiritual gifts.  We fight each day to only look at today-not out to the next week or months.  Even this morning, I found myself thinking 'I feel so powerless' and quickly I felt God whisper "You are.  Apart from me, you have no power."  But then He quickly reminded me that the same power that conquered the grave lives in me!  In me! And like a great friend texted us recently, cancer may be in Scott's body, but the resurrection power of Jesus runs through his veins!  We continue to pray boldly that God is working in the wait.  That He is containing this cancer and working miracles already! Cruz, our 6 year old, prays that God is wiping it out like a tsunami through Scott's body.  It's a good visual and sweetest prayer.  

We continue to walk every night, recounting God's deeds as we go.  Sometimes through gritted teeth on a rough work day, but we can always find ways that God is present and loving us.  It's a practice we don't want to ever stop. And we hang on and depend on Scripture like we never have before.   I have never really understood "daily bread" like I do now.  Maybe because I've never been physically hungry, maybe because I've never been truly dependent for any length of time.  All of a sudden, God's Word each day is truly food.  It keeps my fear and doubt out of the driver's seat and points my face toward the only One who holds all things together.  Sometimes I can almost feel Him lift my chin toward Him.  We ask that you continue to pray boldly and wait and fight along side us.