Fear Not

 "Fear not, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."

Isaiah 41:10

This verse has been in the forefront of my mind lately.  So much is happening, and has happened, here! 

Very late on Tuesday the 18th, my Dad landed in the hospital yet again with hyponatremia--this time it was critically low and he was almost admitted to ICU.  I spoke with him on Wednesday, and quickly packed my bags, made plans for my children, got myself in order, and left at 7am on Thursday morning for Charleston.  While I was en route his liver biopsy results finally came back and he was given a diagnosis that surprised everyone--even the oncologists.  He doesn't have colon cancer that has metastasized to his liver (which was the initial assumption); he has extensive small cell lung carcinoma. SCLC is the most aggressive type of lung cancer.  The oncologists told him his diagnosis on Thursday afternoon and started him on chemotherapy *that night.*

I stayed in the hospital with him for five nights.  For some reason, God has gifted me with the ability and desire to be a very useful person in the hospital. I can sleep virtually anywhere.  I can survive for a while on very little broken sleep.  (I can't do that indefinitely, mind you!)  For whatever reason I have a huge heart for taking care of all the little details of life (lets put this IV tube over here, and you can sit this way.  Let's call the nurse for a bit more of this.  Let me get you that.  Here, I'll put socks on you.  etc) for someone who is ill and suffering.  Time and time again I've found myself in this role. 

The first chemo treatment was at 2:15 am.  My father slept right through it, but when I heard the nurse come in and start putting on her PPE, I was transported back to the days of my husband's chemo. I remember it all so well. I stayed awake.  

He was released last Tuesday in much better shape than he had been the week before. His sodium had gone from 117 to 130, and he was a completely different person--perkier, steadier, less fatigued, less confused.  My Dad is supersmart, so seeing him suffering from mental confusion was extremely disconcerting to me.  It's amazing what the restoration of electrolytes can do! SCLC causes hyponatremia--so it all makes sense now. 

I had that week in Charleston in the hospital to think long and hard about the entire situation.  There was a lot of processing.  There were a lot of tears. There was a lot of gazing out over the Ashley River, thinking things through. I had a really good talk with my Dad during the night of his second chemo treatment--about faith, about fears, about family, about suffering.  He's ok, at least for now.  But this is hard.  

Right now my plan is to live in Charleston 1/3 of the time: about one week out of every three.  Most of the time I'll be there with either both children or my husband and children, and we'll stay in a hotel (my parents' house has one bathroom, and a cancer patient doesn't need to be sharing bathroom space all the time with 4-5 other people!).  From where I live, it's a roughly 8-9 hour drive.  We are going to do Facetime Spanish classes and Zoom ballet on our weeks down south.  I'm going to try to squeeze in as much love and laughter and care as I can.  After 2-3 cycles of chemo (3 days on, 21 days off=1 cycle), he'll have a CT scan to see if the cancer is responding.  And we'll work from there.

I wish I had time to write right now about all the things the Lord is doing during this time in our lives. I wish I had the time to write about how I KNOW He goes before us, how He has paved the way, how He is in all our tomorrows...but I don't have time right now.  

For now I'll just say that my biggest prayer right now, other than a nice long remission for my Dad (SCLC doesn't typically go into remission easily or for long) and stable sodium levels, and safe travels to and from Charleston in the coming weeks and months, is that this time in our lives will be a time where God helps us all grow in mercies, graces, faith, love, charity, and gentleness. Pray for my Dad, my stepmother, my aunt, my uncle, my children, my husband. 

The day I left for Charleston our contractor came in and demolished our bathroom.  Next time I post, I'll post a little bit about that. Going through a total bathroom renovation at the same time as this diagnosis is interesting timing (to say the least!), but I trust that it's all unfolding the way it should.  

Fear not, for I am with you. 

Yes, He always is.

A New Year & New Prayers

 Two months make a difference. 

It's hard to know where to begin when I'm such a sporadic blogger! From Thanksgiving on, I was a pretty busy girl. Annie was in The Nutcracker, and I was working in the dressing room, and I don't even want to begin to describe that job.  Hectic doesn't even begin to touch it.  I was never in theatrical or ballet productions as a child, and I do not thrive on the backstage scene. In fact, I detest it!  All that hurrying and waiting and drama and rushing and quick changes and managing crises...it's completely antithetical to my normal way of living.  But it proves that I love my Annie because I want to be physically present for her backstage, at least while she's getting used to the routines of large ballet productions.  But whew.

My sweet and beloved uncle died of cancer on December 16th, a few days after The Nutcracker ended. My father had been helping to care for him during his last weeks. I was sadly unable to go to my uncle's funeral because my husband had a CT scan and doctor's appointment at UNC that I had to attend (and my uncle lived several states away--not near UNC!). My husband's scan was clear--three years in remission, praise the Lord!, but the day after my uncle's funeral, my stepmother notified me that my father was very ill.  He was hospitalized in Georgia with severe nausea and hyponatremia. He was released Christmas Eve, spent a couple days recovering, somehow managed to drive himself back to Charleston (by the grace of God alone, I'm sure), and was predictably readmitted to the hospital at MUSC on December 28th.  I had been beside myself when my Dad was in the hospital in Georgia, and once he was back to Charleston, I threw all our stuff together in suitcases and we left town a day before our anticipated travel date (we always spend New Year's in Charleston) so I could get there and be by his side.

While we were on the road I called my Dad to tell him we were on our way, and he gave me the devastating news that the doctors thought his symptoms were caused by cancer in his liver. 

Thus began our time in Charleston. He was released from the hospital on New Year's Eve.  Our four-night planned trip turned into ten nights.  We stayed and stayed.  I would have stayed longer, but my husband had to get back to work and Finn had to begin rehearsals for a play he's in this winter. We exchanged gifts, but I don't remember what I got.  The time passed in a slow haze of tears and anxiety, of nausea (he is very, very sick), of waiting and waiting for the liver biopsy to be scheduled, of trying to wrap our minds around the situation.  And then I caught a head cold. Which ended up not being a head cold, but The Virus I had somehow successfully managed to evade for the past 22 months.  We have absolutely no idea where I got it, because I'd had no contact with anyone outside our own little family circle.  

Praise the Lord that no one else in our family caught it.  And it was truly nothing worse than a very mild head cold for me.  But it was just so stressful.  My Dad was (is) incredibly sick, and to add to that, I suddenly had to worry that I'd passed an illness on to him that might end up delaying his biopsy even further.  

I'm recovered now--the worst part for me was that I was very tired for a few days at the very end.

We are home, cloaked in snow.

Annie turned 11 the day after we got home. 

Dad is still extremely sick.  His biopsy was on Thursday.  Although the official report is not back, we now know that he has metastatic liver cancer.  

And just like that, my whole life has shifted.  It's so strange how that happens. We are waiting now on the full pathology report, on the oncology appointments, on more news of how extensive this is and what the doctors recommend.  We spent about 3-4 weeks in Charleston in 2021.  I suspect we will spend much, much more time there this year.  My mind tries to plan ahead (school?  how can we continue ballet?  what about piano?) but in reality, I simply must continue to wait and see what the treatment plan will be.  

In the meantime, I'm praying that my father's nausea will subside so he can get adequate nutrition (losing 20+ pounds in a month is not healthy).  He's on four different anti-nausea medications right now and nothing touches the intractable nausea.  It never leaves him.  Will you please pray for him? Please pray that the nausea can somehow fade or be controlled, and please pray that God will lead us to the right plans, and please pray that we see His mercies and graces throughout the coming days. 

There have already been so many, but that's for another post on another day.

*  *  *

"Fear not, for I am with you,

be not dismayed, for I am your God;

I will strengthen you, I will help you,

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."

-Isaiah 41:10