I Thought I Was Poisoned…

So I just realized that I haven’t really kept you guys in the know as far as how radiation round 3 has been. This is mainly for your curiosity, but also for those of you who will ever have radiation and want to know what it’s really like. To be honest the doctors aren’t always the best at preparing you. They use vague terms and can’t give any specifics because these days Americans will sue for any little thing.

The first weeks I had few symptoms, mainly just fatigue. Then as you know I got the intense mouth burns, ew. After my doctor tweaked my treatment, my mouth started to heal, praise God! Then the dry mouth started, only this time not only did my mouth get dry, but any spit I produced was as thick as molasses, no exaggeration. Because my spit was so thick, I would get super nauseous and I didn’t eat. Well losing weight in the radiation world is a big no no so, they sent me home with a bunch of, ENSURE. Yes Ensure, the protein shake that I grew up believing was only for Grandmas.

Back track a few days before the nausea set in. I was alone in Seattle at this point, and a little bit anxious after watching some kind of crime show. My fault I know. Anyway, I decided to make a cinnamon bagel with butter and cinnamon sugar (this is relevant). At the Collegiana there is a shared kitchen, like a college dorm, and often people will leave random food and things behind. Now I’m not one to eat peoples leftovers, mainly because I can imagine them scratching body parts and then reaching into their bag of chips, the same bag of chips that they left behind marked, “free”. Not free of germs! Anyway, so I made my bagel and realized I didn’t have any sugar. To my dismay, I was forced to grab a few of the restaurant style sugar packets left on the table. I took my bagel back to the room and took a bite, only to be met with the bitter taste of pure cinnamon. Confused, I poured more sugar on it. Took a bite, not a hint of sweet. Now at this point I had 3 sugar packets poured onto this bagel, so this time I stuck my finger directly into the sugar, placed it on my tongue, and felt only the texture of powder with no taste. Okay, I’m assuming that a normal person would just shrug it off and throw it away…remember how I mentioned I was anxious? I immediately started thinking about how maybe it was poison, do people even use poison anymore!? No maybe it’s drugs, someone hid their drugs in the sugar assuming no one would use it and now I have drugs or poison in me!?! I seriously debated calling someone. I checked my eyes, not that I knew what to look for, they looked normal. I felt my heart, it’s not about it explode. So after probably a half an hour of panicking, and texting my family telling them I loved them in case I never woke up, I thought it may be a good idea to get a drink of juice. After taking a swig it hit me, I lost my sense of taste. That’s a side effect of radiation that my doctors didn’t warn me about, but I happened to overhear another patient talking about it. The ability to taste sweet, POOF, gone.

Losing your ability to taste sweet really throws you off. It’s amazing because I realize now how so many things have sweet notes that I would have never noticed. Biting into pizza only to be met with texture, some oregano flavor, saltiness, and the subtly of cheese, but not the sweetness of tomato sauce!? Terrible! I went to one of my favorite Portland ice cream shops, as I sampled flavor after flavor I couldn’t help but grimace at the savory notes that showed up, but ice cream without sweet is just gross. It was incredibly discouraging at first. You pick food based off what sounds good. You have an expectation based off experience or knowledge that your food will taste a certain way. It’s a habit really! So it’s frustrating when you go to take a big ol’ bite of spaghetti because it sounds good, and it smells like spaghetti, it looks like spaghetti, but when it meets your tongue, it tastes nothing like spaghetti. Food is dull right now, like everything has been watered down. I have to add salt to everything. It’s less discouraging now because I’m used to it. I eat for nutrition only, not pleasure. So please, next time you eat something that sounds good to you, take a moment to savor all the flavors, pay attention and really enjoy it!

Okay moving on. I don’t know if it’s just the power of prayer, or if it hasn’t hit me yet, but I really feel pretty good! I don’t have my skin melting off, like last time, it’s more like a peeling sunburn and it’s hot. So I am praying that I’m catching a little break! Woohoo! Thank you for praying. Love you all!



Is it a Wonderful Life?

I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted, but hey here I am! Alive, breathing, mostly in one piece, and COUNTING DOWN THE DAYS! Saturday the 14th is, (Lord willing) my last day. After that, well, we know how it goes. I will, and I’m sure you will, pray pray pray that I heal well and don’t have to have surgery in the next few months!

So I want to back track to Christmas. I spent my Christmas home, thanks to your generosity and kindness, and it was exactly what I needed to refresh. While I was home my husband asked if we could watch, “It’s Wonderful Life”. Now I’m not gonna lie, when I saw that it was a black and white film, I totally fought him on it, insisting that it was doomed to be boring. Anyway, it was actually one of those films that hit me in a very unexpected way.

For those of you who haven’t seen the movie, well consider this your disclaimer. Basically it’s about this guy named George Bailey, stuff goes all wrong in his life and nothing goes as he planned. Hmmm sounds familiar already. So he gets to this point where things are out of control and he seriously thinks about just ending it all. Again, I relate! Anyway as he is about to jump off the bridge, an angel appears and takes him through what his life would be like if he didn’t exist. Does that make sense? George says that everyones life would be better without him so the angel shows what it truly would be like without him. It’s kind of a rad scene because there are so many details that you’d never even think about. Now I won’t walk you through the entire thing, you should just watch the movie, but I will say that after George sees how much his life affects everyone, he has a change of heart. He goes back to real life and is now joyful and grateful. There was this scenario where his Uncle lost all the money needed to keep their bank open and George is depressed thinking that he will never fix it, anyway when he goes back to real life, his wife had asked for the townspeople to help. They start coming in and setting any spare change they have on the table while George just stands there in awe. Phew! Okay that’s all I wanted to say about the movie, now we are all on the same page.

Now, there was a God ordained parallel happening between my life and the movie. As I watched George’s life become chaotic and out of control, I thought about the last 2 years of my life. How I had so many plans and how essentially my life got turned upside down. Then as George spiraled down, eventually finding himself standing at the edge of a bridge, I thought about the various times I stared at my pill bottle, or thought about driving my car into a tree, the times I thought it would be easier to just end it all.

But the next part, the part where George sees the impact his life has had, that part was really eye-opening for me. I mean just think about this for a second, your life has a ripple effect. I mean just try to imagine if you weren’t alive, if you never existed, what would be different? And if you can’t think of anything, ask the people around you. Your life is not just about you. You have an impact on every single person you meet. EVERYONE. It’s a ripple effect, it all matters. It’s kind of mind-blowing really. Life is so detailed and complex, and we could never plan any of it. God has woven purpose into every little detail of your life. I picture it like we all have a very unique color of, let’s say ink. Every time we interact with someone, whether it’s someone we know and love, the grocery clerk, the person you walk past and you make eye contact with, your kids, you leave a little bit of your color on them.

Stay with me here, let’s take the example of the person you pass on the street. If you take a moment to dissect just that simple interaction, it’s amazing! So you could have walked past that person and smiled at them, little did you know that they just had a family member die and they are just trying to hold it together. Since you were thoughtful about that small interaction, your smile made them smile, and since they were able to smile they I don’t know, it helped them feel something in that second. And who knows maybe they went home and told their Mom about it and she felt encouraged to reach out to her brother that she’s been fighting with and then they do something and on and on it goes and you have a ripple effect. I feel like I’m rambling, but I’m just amazed you guys! Our lives are NOT all about us, even if we try our hardest to make it that way. Every choice you make will have a far reaching impact. So make them count.

Lastly, as George stood there and watched his community come to his aid, I was standing there in my living room, staring at a once bare tree, watching it fill up with beautiful ornaments of encouragement, and I thought, “It’s a wonderful life.” Thank you!


Cried over Eggs.

I bawled my eyes out this morning during breakfast. It’s funny, they say “Don’t cry over spilled milk” but is it okay to cry over an underwhelming bowl of eggs? I could barely eat them. It was a very humbling moment, to lose something you rely on so much. Eating. I know it’s main purpose is for nutrition and survival, but man we have really made it into an art! An art that I am learning now that I really enjoy. Anyway back to the eggs. I started crying out of frustration that it was so much work to have a simple breakfast. The blog I wrote last night (in that moment) completely went out the window and my perspective on the situation was that in my boxing match with eggs, eggs were winning. Eventually, after too many tears and a bunch of water, I won.

After my discouraging breakfast battle I went back into my room and decided to take a bath, a bath in my book makes everything better. As I was going back and forth between changing my perspective on my situation or dwelling in my ager toward my current eating disabilities, I received two separate messages. Now I won’t go into detail for the sake of their privacy but two different people reached out to tell me how the blog post from yesterday specifically affected them. It was mind blowing how God timed it just right. I was able to get yet another glimpse at how God is using every little aspect of this cancer trial. It’s not for nothing.

Blisters in my mouth, not for nothing.

Radiation burns, not for nothing.

Surgery and scars, not for nothing.

Biopsies and failed treatments, not for nothing.

Blood draws and leaving home, not for nothing.

Cancer, not for nothing.

IT’S ALL FOR THE GLORY OF GOD. Boy isn’t that something?

So in my bathtub as I read the messages, eggs started to became much less important. The burning sensation in my mouth, or the difficulties talking, or the tumors in my neck, they serve a greater purpose, way beyond me and way beyond what I’ll ever know on this Earth. Does it still totally suck? YES! And God even knows that! He isn’t even mad about me crying over eggs! In fact, He cries with me. But then, He, in His sovereignty and wisdom, takes this gross cancer, and actually does good with it. GOOD things people from cancer! *and the crowd gasps at the mention of the big bad “C” word and the audacity that I’d say good can come out of it.”

It’s those messages, and that truth that encourages me to continue on. To know that God is doing work beyond my little tunnel vision focusing on eggs.

With that, I encourage you to share your struggles people! You don’t have to put it on blast on a blog, but share it with someone because otherwise, how will God get any good from it? (I mean He’s God and can do whatever He wants but, you know what I mean). And also, share with people how God specifically uses their struggle in your life. Be bold!

Love you all, and I am so grateful for so many prayer warriors. It’s almost Christmas and I refuse to let dumb cancer affect the wonderful celebration!

Also, if you have any suggestions on food that doesn’t have any spice and that’s soft let me know! So far canned, bland, chicken noodle soup and yogurt is what I’ve had success with…




Unfortunate Update.

The Collegiana, the mesh mask, Cross and Crown Church, it’s odd how I’ve made so many good and so many terrible memories here. If you haven’t followed my story for long, last August and September after my giant 11 hour surgery, I lived here at the Collegiana for 6 weeks and had radiation every day. For those of you who have followed my story since the beginning, I’m sure your heart sank at the mention of those things.

They pulled me off the clinical trial.

It was some of the hardest news I’ve had in awhile. I had so much hope that the trial would be my miracle. My tumors kept getting bigger and bigger and so finally they decided to do a scan, that scan revealed another 5 new tumors in my neck. With a sense of urgency my doctors discussed all the possibilities and in the end settled on radiation. So here I am, entering week 3 of radiation. This time though it is twice a day, everyday until the middle of January. I haven’t mentioned anything because I didn’t want cancer to ruin the joy and perfection of my sisters wedding. And it didn’t!

It’s always such a range of emotions for me. Terrified that I have 7 tumors now. Devastated that the trial didn’t work. Thankful that they caught it before Stage 4. Sad that I have to be in Seattle, away from my family and husband. Scared because I know the horrors of radiation. And currently, I’m very frustrated because radiation is burning the inside of my mouth therefore resulting in severe blisters all over the right side of my mouth. It hurts to talk, eat, drink. Once again I’m reminded of things we so easily take for granted. While you’re reading this I want you to swish some spit around, you feel that moisture? It’s there for a reason, so thank God right now for spit, because it’s something I absolutely miss having. Now do me a huge favor and take a few second to really savor and chew on your next meal. Enjoy the spices, the textures, the crunch, the sensation of biting into something solid without really having to work too hard, and thank God for the ability to eat and enjoy it. Right now I have to forfeit solid food and it’s not enjoyable at all, it’s work to make sure my sores don’t scrape against my teeth or that salt doesn’t penetrate one of them.

Now that wasn’t a moment to have a pity party for myself! Because as I tell you to be grateful for the things we easily take for granted, I am learning through this new trial to stop focusing on all the things I don’t have or get to do. Because that just makes me cry. Instead, (the lesson I seem to learn every other week) I need to find reasons to be grateful. That is a heart and an attitude rooted in the gospel, rooted in the knowledge of what God has done for me, which is the ultimate thing to be grateful for.

So, as I take a sip of water every minute to relieve my desert mouth, I will challenge myself to not be angry that I now have to rely on water, but to think about the fact that I have easy access to water everywhere I go. See the difference? It’s such a simple change yet it is the difference between me spending my next 6 weeks depressed and crying, or laughing and finding joy. NOT that it isn’t okay to struggle! Man the struggle is real, and I am learning to allow myself some serious, guttural cries. And I’m sad, I’m devastated to be in this situation yet again. And that isn’t wrong.

I also want to point out that this perspective struggle is a choice that I have to make every other minute! I don’t just flip a switch and move through this cancer skipping ad whistling, and neither will you. This is hard, it’s so incredibly hard. Going through my 3rd round with this is exhausting and every time I feel like I can’t take another swing, the Lord continues to give me enough strength to keep on keeping on.

Please please pray for me. Pray for relief from the pain I’m experiencing. Pray for this to work and kill this stupid cancer. Pray for the Lord to work through my weak and flawed human nature to bring glory to Himself. Pray for my family as I’m separated from them for 6 weeks. And praise God for the things we take for granted that He blesses us with!

Love you all.

(Last time I did radiation)

Looking Beyond This.

I’m here still. I took a little break from blogging, to be honest the last few weeks have been difficult.

To catch you up, I just had my second Avelumab infusion, the next one is on the 28th. The last infusion went well, one poke and a few hours later and I was done! I flew to Seattle this round, boy is it just a thousand times better. It’s less stressful, it takes less time, and my body feels so much better afterwards. I just wish it wasn’t so dang expensive! So I’m exploring the alternatives, this coming trip I’m taking the train.

I haven’t felt very good. The tumors in my neck are continuing to grow which is scary already, but now I’m experiencing a lot of odd feelings. I’m light-headed, I have frequent headaches, I have fogginess, I have trouble focusing, I see black spots more often, and I feel more exhausted. My soon-to-be EMT husband thinks it may be the second tumor pushing on my carotid artery and making the blood flow to me brain slow down. I decided to test his theory by pushing on my tumor. Hah bad news, I nearly passed out! It’s hard to sit here and watch my body freak out. Knowing that the cancer is actively eating away makes me feel like I’m slowly dying. It’s an odd roller coaster to be on. Some days I welcome the thought, some days I feel devastated. I mean, I know that technically we are all dying, but how many of us actually think about that?

I’m really terrified that I’m never going to be able to have children. I had a dream the other night that I was pregnant. You know those really realistic dreams that feel so real? It was magical. I mean in my dream I wasn’t sick, I didn’t have cankles, or the pain of carrying another human, just the magical mommy feelings. I woke up only to the fact that my chin is the only thing that looks pregnant. Such disappointment. In those times where I’m frozen in fear that cancer is going to kill me before I get to put a little Hayden here on Earth, I’m reminded of the time last December where I thought I was going to die. I started to panic, thinking that I’d never get to experience the joy of being a wife. And here I am. But what if I don’t get to be a Mom? This is where that eternal mindset comes to mind. This idea that “greater things are yet to come”, or “we are not made for this world”. Heaven. How often I forget that heaven is my reality because I’ve placed my faith in Jesus. How often I neglect the beauty that I get everlasting life in HEAVEN. While Motherhood is something I pray I will experience, and while it’s such a beautiful gift here on Earth, how much better will heaven be? I think the idea scares me a bit to be honest. I mean, it’s hard to fathom, so I don’t like to go there. I like the tangible, realistic. But gee, to think that this Earth is the best there is? How’s that for a sad reality.

It’s easy to take hope for granted. But man, look at our world. Look at the chaos, the hatred, the terrified souls that think that this is it? We need to hope, we need to remember that our suffering, our President, our marital status, our kids, our jobs, this isn’t it. Thank the Lord for giving us a hope, a hope to look beyond the evil in this world and know that one day we will bask in the glory of heaven. To know that we will not end up as merely a pile of bones in the dust. To know that this is not the best there is. I don’t marvel in the wonder of that enough.

Please pray for these tumors to stop growing and for the medicine to works! Also, please pray for me as I plan my travel, I have to be in Seattle every single week of December. So prayers for my attitude and perspective as I travel a lot, and prayers for travel to not be too expensive and not booked up! I also have a  PRAISE, Adam got a new job!!!




Have you ever lost your mind?

Who can know the mind of God? Who can know their own mind at times.

I had every intention of continuing my story of how everything went wrong, the biopsy was painful, the next day it took 3 digs to find a vein for an IV, we got pulled over on the way home…yada yada. But I’m not going to say more than that, because God had a different plan for today’s blog.

I don’t know how to navigate this. Cancer. Life. Loving God. Loving myself. Just everything. It’s one giant rollercoaster. One day I’m great and positive, the next day I’m begging God to end it all. Today I had one of the worst break downs since my diagnosis. I started off the day feeling so encouraged at church, I was singing, laughing even, and just recovering from the frustration of my last visit. I was sitting at my computer trying to figure out alternatives for Sis’s bachelorette party since I will be in treatment. I started thinking about how much cancer ruins things in my life. I became envious of the girls, my family even, that they just get to go. The only obstacle they have is work. It made me enraged to think that cancer will keep me from fully participating in the most important week of my only sister’s life. It’s more than just missing a bachelorette party, though, obviouslly.

Then I just, I don’t know, cracked. I don’t exactly remember what happened to be honest. It didn’t even feel like me, it felt like a stranger from a movie. One of those terribly sad movies where you maybe even cry for the girl on screen. I started screaming. I started screaming and shaking. My mind was cloudy, I even thought I was maybe going crazy. I screamed, exclaiming that I can’t do this anymore, that I don’t want to do this. Right there in front of my family. Why is it when you get so angry that you actually want to harm yourself? In that moment I just wanted to smash my head through a wall or pull out my hair. I wanted a distraction from the sudden range of emotions I had just let go. It was one of the few times I’ve let it ALL go. I did’t think, I didn’t analyze, I did’t try to be strong, it truly was just raw emotion.

I hate that vulnerability, I think it’s because I know there’s magic words, there’s no 4 step process, there’s no pill, it’s just, there. It’s much easier to contain it, to act like it doesn’t exist, to busy yourself enough to never give it a thought, to maintain control. That’s what I like, control.

The Lord is perfectly okay with just being there. He shows us that in Psalms when David is just pouring it out to the Lord. I can imagine that he was shaking, screaming even, just like me. Or Job.  The Lord didn’t condemn them, and He doesn’t condemn me for it. I condemn myself though. I don’t give myself a lot of grace I’m realizing. Mainly because I don’t understand God’s grace well enough, nor do I accept it. I am a weak, feeble, lost, confused, angry, flawed, human. I have no “inspirational strength” outside of the strength that God graciously gives me. Every single day is a battle. I have very down and low days where I want to lay in bed until I’m dead. Where I exclaim, “Take this away God, I can’t do this again!”. I have better days when I can keep my eyes on the Lord and exclaim, “God you are sovereign AND good, thank you for the blessing of life itself”.

Today I feel like I lost my mind, genuinely. But the crazy thing is, God loves me the same as He did yesterday when I was praising His name.


20 viles later…

The first Avelumab Infusion is officially flowing through my apparently non-existent veins. It pretty much feels like the last trial did. I feel achey, nauseous, feverish, exhausted, and I have a head ache. So the flu without the flu part. Last time it only lasted a full two days, I’m hopeful that this is the case for this trial!

My most recent visit to Seattle was terrible. I mean other than the fact that my Sister and Mom were able to come with me, which made it all worth it!

I started out the right before we left with a really positive perspective. I felt encouraged and ready to fight this battle. I felt a peace in letting it go and giving God control of my life. I felt as though He gave me this new inspiration and a warrior spirit. The drive up was easy and wonderful, the night before my appointments was enjoyable. My appointments started off on a sour note. 20 viles of blood, was a tall order, even a vampire would think so. My one good vein pumped out a solid 12 viles until it begged the doctors to go away as it dried up. Now we enter foreign territory. A new vein. You see, I have always been able to depend on my ONE good vein. It never fails me. So the nurse feels around on my opposite arm. Nothing promising but she finds one to “give a try”. For those of you that get blood drawn a lot or get IV’s often you know the terror paired with “give it a try”. This means digging, digging under your skin, digging in your veins, and it’s disgusting, and painful. So the pumped another 4 vile out of some random vein deep beneath the surface. Finally they found a 3rd random vein to “try” in my hand and barely got 4 additional viles. After that discouraging event, they then went on to tell me that I won’t be able to receive my TCells until December. Now while that’s scary in that we are waiting another month, it was more disappointing to learn that the one week in my life that actually matters to me is the week I HAVE to receive the Tcells, the week of Sis’s wedding. I broke down. Cried my eyes out in front of my new team, in front of my mom, and in front of the nurse. I couldn’t help it. I exclaimed to them, “I’m 23, and cancer just ruins everything! Why do I have to do this? Man I’m just so frustrated.” And they all looked at me and agreed. “Cancer Sucks.” they replied.

Then I went from that embarrassing and frustrating appointment to the biopsy…

to be continued…


2 viles not pictured. For those of you who counted!

Clinical Trial Fears.

I have this devastating guttural cry, woe-is-me, I’m done, this isn’t fair moment every time I get diagnosed. Yesterday I had that moment.

A clinical trial, it seemed like it would be a straight forward, almost easy road. But there is no easy road with cancer. I sat in the REI garage crying and contemplating the different roads I could take. I could go forward with the trial, I could do surgery and radiation again, or I could skip treatment all together. The latter sounds so enticing, to just be done, to just go back to normal until cancer runs it’s course. This isn’t the first time I’ve explored the idea, but the truth is, all roads have sacrifice. So then after I realize that there are no easy roads, I feel trapped. I feel like cancer has me trapped, there is no escape, I have no choice. Then in the midst of my self-smothering, I panic.

The clinical trial is a systemic infusion every 2 weeks for the next year.

The next year.

The very words make me squirm. I long for home, no, I long for stability, for a calm to this chaos, for a schedule. The last year and a half I’ve been a gypsy, going from one place to the next. I’ve barely been able to hang all my clothes in the closet and now I have to make the trek to Seattle every 2 weeks for a year.  After 8 weeks and 2 biopsies they will determine whether I am responding well to the drug or not. If I don’t respond, there is a risk that my tumor will continue to get bigger and spread, leaving surgery, radiation, or chemo as my only options. It’s already grown to the point that it’s a painful lump pushing against my throat. That possibility scares me so much. I’m the 1% girl remember? Stats bring me no comfort, neither do others success.

But what if it works? What if my tumors dissolve into nothing and the cancer slowly fades from my body? From my life? What if? And it’s in the what if’s that we can make ourselves crazy. I’ve been telling people that being diagnosed for the 3rd time makes me feel kind of like I’m living out Groundhog Day, but the cancer version. So every time that I begin to go into panic mode, every time that to ask the Lord to just kill me know and be done with it, every time I doubt His plan and insist that mine’s better, every time that I start to look at other 23 year olds and envy their freedom, in these moments, when I feel all loss of control, that the Lord lifts my downcast face to meet His gaze. He says, “Look at me daughter.” When I look up, I imagine Him staring back with tears in His eyes, because He hates this too. Then I look back on the first diagnosis, the devastation, the wondering if I’ll live past Christmas, then I reflect back on the second diagnosis, the anger, the wondering if I’ll ever get married, and as my gaze shifts from poor me, from the weak, feeble, and untrusting human to the all knowing, kind, merciful, and GOOD GOD, I remember…


Greater things are yet to come. I will make it, and I will be okay. Not because I’m good, or brave, or strong, but because God is good and brave and strong. He has brought me through 2 battles with cancer, and He is gearing me up for the 3rd.


Greater things are yet to come.


PS: Shout out to my girl Rose for traveling from KANSAS every 2 weeks, I should focus on my blessings.

Also if you want to be praying for my travels, it’s an 8 hour drive to Seattle from Kfalls so we are trying to figure our some flying options. If anyone has a private plane, I mean and it’s on your heart… 😉 I go in for a brain scan and a CT scan today to get restaged. Prayers that I don’t have any other tumors would be appreciated! LOVE you all dearly!

Going to War.

I’m tired. I’ve become too familiar with this term in the last 2 years. I feel lately as though it’s a permanent state. Fatigue. An abnormal amount of it. I guess that’s not crazy considering my body has been fighting a life-threatening tumor. It annoys me though. Maybe it’s also the fact that I just turned 23 years old…Nahhhh. But I can say that I am so incredibly grateful for another year of life. 23 blessed years. Thank you for all the birthday wishes and encouragements. It was tempting to douse the celebration of my birthday in the worry, anxiety, and stress of Adams treatment and my upcoming treatment. I’m grateful for friends and my husband who help me focus on the present and the excitement of the celebration of life.

Adam and I head to Seattle on Tuesday and I get a bunch of tests done on Thursday. They want to try a new clinical trial on me before we go to surgery and radiation. It’s a gamble. Last time my body didn’t respond to the trial and 3 tumors grew in the meantime, but if it works, GAME CHANGER. We could actually get ahead of this thing instead of the old game of whack-a-mole. It’s a risk I’m willing to take if it means skipping surgery and radiation.

My heart has actually been in a healthy state of peace. Adam and I were talking about it the other day. We are different warriors, this time. This is my 3rd battle. No, this is my 3rd war, I’ve had a dozen or more battles now. But I have 2 wars under my belt and I’m wiser because of it. I’m not stronger, nor am I more capable. I am still David with his slingshot. But, imagine if David was able to fight Goliath 3 different times. On the 3rd he would be able to reflect on the last 2 battles and have a wave of calm and trust as he saw God’s strength and power come through for him. He would approach the 3rd battle boldly, and with less fear. He would have more confidence that the God he serves is powerful and good. He would doubt less and he would learn from the first 2 battles. He would look back and see that He is just as weak and still wields only a slingshot, but he would see his God who is more than capable and wields something better than a sword.

It’s a hard decision everyday to wake up and remember that I GET a 3rd chance to fight this war better, instead of being angry and bitter towards God saying that I HAVE to fight this a 3rd time. I want to look back on the mountain of faithfulness, I want to look back at the wars and see Gods strength through me.

Philippians 4:13 “I can do ALL things through Him who gives me strength.”

The tumor is that “you have a gumball stuck in your throat” lump on the right of my scar.





The English language is so odd. Like how the word LIMBO can mean “an uncertain period of awaiting a decision or resolution” but it can also refer to the “How low can you go” stick game. In this instance I’m not referring to the stick limbo, although now that I think about it, I feel as though I’m being forced to go lower and lower. You start out standing, then you’re squating, and before you know it you’re barely off the ground, trying with all your might to stay up. I’m in the medical limbo. I’ve played this game before, it’s a hurry-up-and-wait kind of thing. My biopsy results were inconclusive. I’m supposed to watch the lump for the next week. Sit and watch to see if it disappears or get’s bigger. It’s an odd thing, to sit and watch. To wait as a life threatening beast either grows or decides to disappear. But here’s the thing about waiting, you’re forced to rely solely on the Lord.

I can’t do a thing about this lump. I can’t remove it, I can’t go to the doctor, I can’t take a pill, I can’t drink a certain tea or eat a certain root, I can’t sniff a certain oil or sleep a certain amount, I am not in control. The things I can do, the things I am in control of are my perspective, my relationship and dependance on the Lord, and my attitude. I intend to do the best I can in those areas.

A huge way that I’m able to control my perspective during this time, is to focus on all the blessings in my life! It’s hard to do at times, but it’s easier these days because my ENTIRE house is filled with blessings. It’s a house of gratitude no doubt. Allow me to walk you through it. When you walk up to my HOG (house of gratitude, now referred to as my HOG), you see two cars in the driveway. Each car was given to us graciously. Inside our home you walk into the living room. Each couch was given to us, the window hanging on the wall was given to us, the rug was given to us, the coffee table was given to us, the lamp was given to us. Heading into the kitchen in my HOG you will see a cute dining room table that was given to us, and the kitchen itself is filled with gizmos and gadgets…GIVEN TO US. As if that isn’t enough to convince you, in our bedroom the BED was given to us, the dresser was given to us, there is not one area, one room, one foot in my house that I can escape gratitude! My HOG got me thinking, isn’t that really the case EVERYWHERE we go? Isn’t every house a HOG, isn’t every breath, flower, kiss, rain drop, grain of sand, a thing to be grateful for? Everything has been given to us, we deserve none of it. The intense Irish music playing in this coffee shop, the laptop I type on, 10 fingers, a husband, all given to me. How often I forget to be grateful, but how essential it is for our souls. You can’t have an attitude of gratitude and be an angry, bitter, or sad person. Sure you are allowed to have your moments, even your days, but as I am tempted to demand that I have the life I am told by the world that I’m entitled to, I will take a moment to look at all that I have that I don’t even deserve.

Thank you all for helping me during this time, your kindness and generosity, your words, they all help me keep a positive perspective during this waiting!Please pray for this week of waiting, but even more please pray for my husband Adam! Next week we head to Spokane for his Lyme treatment and I am begging the Lord that it will work. Love you all and I’m grateful for you ALL.