February 2013 archive

New Skin and a New Day

Some side effects of chemotherapy aren’t textbook. It’s well-known that I have a rare diagnosis with a rare recurrence, so why shouldn’t I have rare side effects? Bring ’em on.

HFS Steph

The beginning signs of Hand and Foot Syndrome on my palm. (January 2013)

As I am beginning to experience a handful of side effects in this season of treatment, I am reminded of the initial meeting we had with my General Oncologist. We learned that patients can go through a gamut of side effects (duh), but that there are only a handful of rare ones that could plague me during treatment. One of these mentioned was drippy eyes. My doctor shared that because of the drugs being administered, sometimes patients will look as though they are crying, and will consistently dab at their eyes with tissue. I find it weird to remember such a small detail in the midst of such a large conversation, but clearly God was preparing me for what was to come. Like other patients, the specific chemo drug that I am now receiving is tricking my tear ducts into over producing tears. Therefore, it appears that I am an emotional wreck at all times of the day. Yes, I may be tipping the levels into menopause because of my surgeries and radiation, but I assure you, I am emotionally stable…or so I think.

This particular side effect is quite the annoyance. My eyes leak. They drip. They pour out tears. And if I don’t catch them before they take the plunge onto my cheeks, putting on makeup in the morning is quite the joke. “Crying” all day does offer humor, though. For instance, being the procrastinator that I sometimes can be, I waited until the day before Valentines to get Matt a few cards. Tissues in hand, I walked into Hallmark. It became abundantly obvious that I was not the only procrastinator for this holiday as swarms of people flooded the aisles. Great. I could only imagine what was to come. As I politely shoved my way through to the section I needed to peruse, my anxieties began to creep up. After all, there I was, sniffling from allergies and dabbing away at the tears that continued to pour from my eyes. While I can admit, Hallmark does have some touching cards, I am not one to publicly weep over them. Needless to say, I was embarrassed. The girl who was crying over Hallmark cards; I’m sure I was the topic of many dinner conversations. And sadly, that’s not the end of it. As I was taking multitasking to another level by wiping my tears, sniffling, and reading sentimental words, the anxieties sent me into a full-blown hot flash. Oh yes, friends. Crying, sniffling, and sweating. I began to curse my fellow procrastinators in my head. I was flustered, embarrassed, and wanted to leave immediately. By a supernatural miracle, I found cards I liked, and soon was able to depart from the Hallmark Hell. Looking back, this is quite hilarious. Go ahead, picture it in your head. I invite you to laugh.

As if having to dry my eyes at every waking moment isn’t enough, my skin has turned on me, as well. For whatever reason, it would rather fall off. Apparently, I am no longer fun to be attached to. Welcome, Hand and Foot Syndrome. It’s a real thing, folks. And, according to my nurses and doctors, the fact that I am plagued with it is……Rare. Apparently, they have never seen a patient undergoing my treatment regimen experience this syndrome as a side effect. There’s a first for everything, I suppose! I get to be lucky number one. Oh joy. So that I don’t have to go into the scientific depths of explanation, feel free to read the details about Hand and Foot Syndrome HERE. Essentially, the chemo drugs are leaking out of my capillaries and burning the surrounding tissues. The surrounding tissues happen to be my hands and feet. It is the most painful side effect I have ever experienced. Prescription pain medicine doesn’t put a dent in the misery.

HFS 2 Steph

Hand and Foot Syndrome on the top of my hands. (February 2013)

A couple of days after each chemotherapy session, the cycle begins again. My hands (tops, palms, and fingers) and soles of my feet become swollen, tight, and dramatically red (sometimes even purple). It feels as though I placed these limbs over a scorching hot fire and waited. Walking becomes difficult and painful. Gripping anything is a task. And for as long as they are affected, daily routines are put on hold. My heels brushing the sheets in our bed even causes discomfort. Bending my knuckles, picking up anything, wearing shoes, and even washing my face is a painful chore. I must keep my hands and feet moisturized with a heavy cream and topical steroid 24/7. About two weeks later, the swelling, tightness, and redness eases and then blisters form. Which, in turn, leads to the skin coming off. Therefore, as gross as it is, I have been peeling skin off my hands for a while now. The other day, I made the mistake of removing a giant blister off my heel. With chemo brain fogging my thought process, I didn’t think about how it would feel to walk on raw skin. Needless to say, I soon found out. And I still walk with a slight limp in my step trying to avoid pressure on my sensitive and raw left heel.

Usually I can feel when the chemo has made its full course through my body and is near the end of its damaging rampage. Chemotherapy takes months to fully be out of your body, but the “hard part” wears off a little by the third week. Just in time to get another dose! Of course. So, today my tears aren’t as overwhelming, and my HFS has eased. The peeling continues, but the skin has already died, so it’s not painful to remove it from my hands. My nauseous feeling has dissipated and I can lead a fairly “normal” life four to seven days before my next treatment.

HFS 3 Steph

And the peeling begins! (February 2013)

The sloughing off of my old skin is similar to the birth of a new day and a new future. My old skin cells are being wiped away, and my new cells are forming. My old body is being pushed aside, and my future is being born. No more cancer. No more pain. Only a healthy new day. A healthy new life. Sometimes God won’t bring new into your life, until you remove the old crap. He won’t place new on top of old either, and therefore the old must be wiped away completely. My skin was the old crap. And through this journey, I am becoming more and more ready for what God wants to bless me with in the future. I commit to believing in favor. I believe that I will be healed. As it says in Colossians, I am removing my old garment and awaiting my new wardrobe. I am throwing away my sick body, in preparations for my healthy one. Yet, I must be in this storm to fully be refined. Believe me, I wish we didn’t have to suffer trials and tribulations to get to the good stuff. But through these trials, I am thankful for the refining work He is doing in me and through me. Today is a new day. I choose to move forward in power. So, be gone old skin… I’ve got better things coming!

Isaiah 61:1-7 (The Message)

“The Spirit of God, The Master, is on me because God anointed me. He sent me to preach good news to the poor, heal the heartbroken, announce freedom to all captives, pardon all prisoners. God sent me to announce the year of his grace—a celebration of God’s destruction of our enemies—and to comfort all who mourn, to care for the needs of all who mourn in Zion, give them bouquets of roses instead of ashes, messages of joy instead of news of doom, a praising heart instead of a languid spirit. Rename them “Oaks of Righteousness” planted by God to display his glory. They’ll rebuild the old ruins, raise a new city out of the wreckage. They’ll start over on the ruined cities, take the rubble left behind and make it new. You’ll hire outsiders to herd your flocks and foreigners to work your fields. But you’ll have the title “Priests of God,” honored as ministers of our God. You’ll feast on the bounty of nations, you’ll bask in their glory. Because you got a double dose of trouble and more than your share of contempt, your inheritance in the land will be doubled and your joy go on forever.”

In Sickness and In Health

Today is either a Happy Valentines Day or Singles Awareness Day. For both parties: those who have found their forever love, and those who are still searching for it… Share your heart with those you care about, regardless of your relationship status.

Blessed.

Blessed. (June 2010)

While February 14th is a made-up holiday that our country feels obligated to spend money on chocolates and gifts, Matt and I still enjoy celebrating this day in some way. I challenge each of you to do the same. Don’t get me wrong, though. I’m not suggesting that you go out and spend money that you may or may not have on someone you may or may not truly love. My challenge to you is simply sharing your heart to those in your life who mean something to you. Write a letter. Make a phone call. Send a text. We’ve all heard it several times, “You never know what day is your last…”, and it’s the truth. My husband and I take this sentiment to heart. And frankly, this began well before my diagnosis. We never leave a conversation over the phone without saying, “I love you.” We never walk out of the house without saying, “I love you.” And it may sound weird, but we always end an argument by saying, “I love you.” We don’t want our last conversation to be one that we haven’t shared our love for one another. Every single day, I know how much my husband loves and cares for me, and he knows how much I love and care for him. There will never be a moment that either of us questions that. I encourage you to live in the same way. You don’t have to have a spouse in order to share your heart. Do you care about a friend? Tell them. Do you appreciate your family? Tell them. Do you adore your spouse with every fiber in your being? Tell them.

madsenwedding-83

Love and adoration. (June 2010)

This will be Matt and my 5th time celebrating this “holiday” together, yet he is my valentine every single day. I adore this man. He has guarded, honored, loved, and tended to my heart since I gave it to him in 2008. He has loved me unconditionally no matter how much I may complain, no matter what my body looks like, and no matter what I do or don’t do. His love for me is selfless. He is the leader of our family, the calm in many of our storms, and the strong rock that I can lean upon. His character is outstanding and deserves applaud. He is level-headed, compassionate, strong, loyal, patient, and he finds a way to make me laugh every day. He treats me better than I often deserve. He makes sacrifices in order to assure that we are happy. He works his butt off to provide for our family. He is my best friend. The one I laugh and cry with, the one I share secrets with, and the one person who has never left my side. From before diagnosis through this very day, he has remained steadfast and faithful to our vows. This diagnosis has only brought us closer together, and has grown our love and affection for one another in ways I never knew possible. My diagnosis is scary, let’s face it. And although he has the chance to run away and find a healthy and fertile woman, he doesn’t. Because I am his woman. This journey has never been an easy one, and it often gets harder each day, however, we have committed to be in this adventure together, and no disease will ever change that. He is truly the man of my dreams. The man I always dreamed about and prayed for, but never imagined marrying. I am eternally blessed.

This morning, I reflect on the vows we promised each other more than two and a half years ago. They remain the same today and forevermore…

June 5, 2010

Vows. (June 5, 2010)

“You are my best friend. Today I give myself to you in marriage, in the presence of God, family, and friends. I promise to stand by your side in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad. When life seems easy and when it seems hard. When our love is simple and when it is an effort. I promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you. I promise to cherish you and always hold you in the highest regard. I look forward to raising our family and building our relationship under the care and guidance of God. These things I give to you today, and all the days of our life. I love you.”

Matt, I adore you. Thank you for standing by me through the easy times, and the most recent difficult times. Thank you for being my guardian. Thank you for continuing to take care of me, and making sure that I am alright. Thank you for firmly planting yourself by my side through this diagnosis and the slew of surgeries, treatments, and hospital visits. Thank you for believing that I am still beautiful, and thank you even more for telling me every day. Thank you for being the servant-like leader that God has called you to be, and for guiding us on the path that He has prepared for us. Thank you for your never-ending encouragement. Thank you for your unconditional love. Thank you for providing for us, and doing whatever it takes to keep us afloat. Thank you for the many sacrifices you make to ensure that we are happy. Thank you for your unwavering patience, your listening ears, and your words of wisdom. Thank you for continuing to put up with me. Thank you for believing in my healing and sharing that you are proud of me. Thank you for praying with and for me. Thank you for protecting me with strong and gentle hands. Thank you for never giving up.

Swoon! (June 2010)

Swoon! (June 2010)

I honor you. I respect you. I’m proud of you. And, I love you. I always have and always will…LINABEW.

1 Corinthians 13:4-8 (The Message)

“Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.
Love doesn’t strut,
Doesn’t have a swelled head,
Doesn’t force itself on others,
Isn’t always ‘me first,’
Doesn’t fly off the handle,
Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn’t revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.

Love never dies…”

Hangovers and Television

Chemo effects have officially begun again. Oh, joy. For some reason these poisonous concoctions affect nearly everything in my daily life, at least for a little while. Could the reason be that they are actually poison in some form? I suppose. Annoying. However, I would much rather deal with these side effects and survive than not. You gotta do what you gotta do…to live.

This morning I’m experiencing the exact reactions that I get the morning after anytime I go in for chemotherapy. I call them chemo cocktails, so what better way to call the morning after, my chemo hangover!? Those who have never had the pleasure of ingesting these molecular-killing elixirs, can not truly understand this specialized hangover. It’s nothing like a hangover you elected yourself for by enjoying too many liquid grapes the night before. It’s not a hangover you can salve by drinking lots of water and taking a Tylenol. My face is flushed, my body is tired, my emotions are out of whack, and I’m exhausted with an edge of queasiness. My joints hurt. My bones hurt. My throat is dry. This hangover is one you’ve just got to push through. Fighting cancer doesn’t stop after treatments. You still have to gut it out while the life-saving drugs course through your body.

Seeing myself on TV is nuts! (January 2013)

On the nightly news! (January 2013)

Last night, sleep eluded me. And it’s partner in crime, Ambien, clocked out early. Yet again, I awoke wide-eyed and bushy-tailed at 3 am. After attempting to trick my body into surrendering to slumber, I gave in. No use. I was awake. So, what better thing to do than check my social media. Facebook, Instagram, my blog. The only negative is that none of you post anything in the wee hours of the morning. There wasn’t much to look at, and I wasn’t particularly in the mood to creep on anyone’s page. So, I decided to check our local news station FOX 31 KDVR and see if a particular interview from yesterday had been put on their website. After scrolling through stories of tragedy, death, and how auto-mechanics are ripping off customers (duh!), I found a story of hope.

For those who were unaware, one of our local news stations had asked me for an interview. This interview just so happened to take place yesterday, and aired four separate times last night. My apologies for not making y’all aware earlier. Everything happened so fast. I write bearing good news, however. Those that were at work, out of town, or who don’t have cable are still able to watch the segment. Below I will post the link to the interview that aired on FOX 31 KDVR and also on Channel 2 KWGN.

Yet again, God is making it apparent that my story is a big one. Never would I have thought that people would care to see my story through a cancer diagnosis. But, I trust that His plans are bigger and far better than my own, and I’m rollin’ with it. The segment is fairly short (long in news time), reaching a little over 2 minutes. Obviously I’m a talker, and the crew had to condense my monstrosity of words into a nice package, so not all of my message was shared. For those who have been introduced to my story fairly recently and are visiting my blog for the first time, whether you are undergoing cancer treatments as well, are struggling in other areas of your life, or just feel like some perspective, here’s what I can tell you:

Behind the scenes. Photo courtesy Matt Madsen. (January 2013)

Behind the scenes. Photo courtesy Matt Madsen. (January 2013)

My God is a BIG God. He determines my destiny. A medical diagnosis is not God’s diagnosis for my life. The medical statistics are not congruent to His statistics. I believe in miracles. I believe in healing. And, I believe in a miraculous healing in my body. Regardless of “poor prognosis,” only He will determine when I leave this Earth. And, I can assure you, He will have to drag me out of it kicking and screaming. I’m a fighter. I’m stubborn. I won’t back down from this annoying bug called cancer. As grammatically correct as I am, I will never capitalize that word; Unless it has the pleasure of being at the beginning of a sentence! This diagnosis of cancer will never rule my life. It will never define me. It’s only a part of my journey. And it will be a small portion in comparison to the multitude of years I will live.

For those fighting this disease as well. You can do it. More often than not, you just have to suck it up and keep battling. It’s a hard struggle, but you will discover more of yourself than you ever have. When you feel weak, know that our God is strong. He has not given this disease to you, but has allowed it. For what the enemy tries to use against us, God transforms into something miraculous and good. You will have hard days. You will grieve. You will cry. You won’t want to leave your house, let alone get out of bed. You will experience pain and heartbreak. BUT, you WILL have good days. Great days in fact. Life is put into perspective when you are fighting for it. You will laugh. You can experience joy and hope. This isn’t the end of the road. Certain things in your life will change, but you can continue to hold on to things that bring you happiness. There are people around you, whether you know them or not, who just want to help. Let them. And dammit, don’t give up. As soon as you resign yourself, it’s over. This is an epic battle. You are a soldier. You are on the front lines. And with your medical staff and The Man upstairs, you will crash through this diagnosis with guns blazing. Allow yourself to experience the rough days. Allow yourself to grieve and cry. After all, cancer is shitty. I give you permission to be sad, angry, hurt, and possibly devastated. Sometimes that’s all we need… someone to say, “It’s ok to cry.” However, once you’ve exhausted yourself from tears, pick your cancer-kickin’ ass up. On days that you feel well enough, get out of the house. Don’t isolate yourself. Enjoy the world we live in. Spend time with your friends and family. Go to a comedy show and laugh. Eat good food. Please, don’t let your diagnosis run your life. You are not a cancer patient. But rather, a person who just so happens to have cancer. And last but not least, fight hard. This disease is a jerk.

Feel free to view my very first television appearance on FOX 31 KDVR and Channel 2 KWGN by clicking HERE! And for those who are not so tech savvy, here’s the link: http://kdvr.com/2013/01/31/26-year-old-battling-cancer-urges-getting-life-saving-tests/

2 Corinthians 6:1-10 (Message Version)

“Companions as we are in this work with you, we beg you, please don’t squander one bit of this marvelous life God has given us. God reminds us,

‘I heard your call in the nick of time;
The day you needed me, I was there to help.’

Well, now is the right time to listen, the day to be helped. Don’t put it off; don’t frustrate God’s work by showing up late, throwing a question mark over everything we’re doing. Our work as God’s servants gets validated—or not—in the details. People are watching us as we stay at our post, alertly, unswervingly . . . in hard times, tough times, bad times; when we’re beaten up, jailed, and mobbed; working hard, working late, working without eating; with pure heart, clear head, steady hand; in gentleness, holiness, and honest love; when we’re telling the truth, and when God’s showing his power; when we’re doing our best setting things right; when we’re praised, and when we’re blamed; slandered, and honored; true to our word, though distrusted; ignored by the world, but recognized by God; terrifically alive, though rumored to be dead; beaten within an inch of our lives, but refusing to die; immersed in tears, yet always filled with deep joy; living on handouts, yet enriching many; having nothing, having it all.”