Posts Tagged ‘MD Anderson’

09
Aug
2017

Fear, Faith, and Follow-Ups

SMadsenHope25-2“I don’t know about you, but I feel really good about this scan. You’re going to be cancer-free. I just know it.”

You’d be surprised at how often I hear this from family, friends, and sometimes strangers around the time I’m due for my latest follow-up scan. While my initial reaction is to bristle in response, it also breathes life into the dark and doubting places in my spirit. It’s a double-edged sword. I love and hate hearing it. I appreciate the words because, deep down in my soul, I feel them to be true. Yet, history glows on my medical reports. Having experienced three recurrences, I’m cautious and timid about predicting what’s to come. The truth is, we never know what the results of each scan will be until my doctor presents them to me face-to-face.

There have been seasons when I have felt, with every fiber in my being, that the cancer was gone. And I’ve been wrong. Likewise, there have been moments when my fears were overwhelming and I was convinced that the disease was infesting my body. And again, I’ve been proven wrong. I’ve had more scans than I can count, so I’ve learned to maintain a specific posture while facing them. Cautiously optimistic and abundantly thankful.

I stand with cautious optimism to maintain balance. It’s neither healthy to be ridden with the anxiety of looming bad news, nor to be preemptively and naively excited for positive results. It’s crucial to rest somewhere in the middle. Cautious and optimistic. Additionally, I remind myself to be thankful when scans are on the horizon. Depression, fear, and doubt cannot penetrate gratitude. Joy is birthed in a thankful heart. I reflect on how far I have come, all that I have, and all that God has waiting for me in the future. Second to salvation, life itself is the greatest gift of all.

“I feel good about it.” My dad actually said this to me yesterday. As soon as the words hit my ears, my insides shuddered. And as quickly as I recoiled, I also smiled. What an odd experience. I am full of faith and hope, yet fear pricks at my heart. You see, fear and faith are not mutually exclusive. So often we believe they are. That if we are afraid, we are simply lacking faith. How defeating must that be, for us to be faithless if fear is present? It’s simply not the truth. Fear is a human response, yet faith is a supernatural assurance. They can be felt simultaneously.

Likewise, I’ve grown to understand the difference between fear and fearless. Fearlessness is not a lack of fear but rather a resilient determination to push through the circumstance that makes us most afraid. Fearless means forging a way amidst paralyzing doubt and trepidation. Fearless is a mindset and a commitment. To be fearless is to overcome.

I am full of faith in a God who redeems, restores, and heals. Faith is an assurance in what cannot be seen, and while I have not tangibly seen God, I have seen Him to be true in my life. He is present, at work, and carefully orchestrating every detail. He has gone before me. He has written my story. He has rescued me. My God is alive, and I have faith in Him. At the same time, I struggle with the fear of my earthly opponent. My flesh is quick to breed anxiety and doubt. Rather than reflecting on the miracles woven in my story, my mind falls prey to the memories of past disappointments and recurrences. Fear is a looming shadow, stealthy to entrap me.

My faith is unmoved and unwavering, though my flesh is broken and afraid. Simply put, my faith is abundant because it rests in my Savior, and my fear is present because it rests in a scan. God does not change, our circumstance does. And right now, as my latest follow-up scan approaches, I am choosing to maintain a posture of cautious optimism and an attitude of gratitude. Am I afraid? Not overwhelmingly so, but enough to put me on edge. Scanxiety is real, no matter how long you’ve been cancer-free. Do I have faith? 100% YES! God is bigger than my fear and mightier than my disease.

As you read this, Matt and I will be in between appointments at MD Anderson for my next round of scans, tests, and doctors visits. If you remember my last trip to Houston, I officially reached the two-year mark of being NED, which means my scans have now switched from every three months to every six months. It’s hard to believe that it’s been only six months since my last trip to the hospital! We’ll be venturing to MD Anderson once again to not only meet with my specializing gynecologic oncologist and receive a PET/CT scan, but additionally to meet with a new team of doctors for further tests. (I’ve been experiencing intermittent nerve pain in my breasts and want to be extra sure it’s nothing, therefore I’ll be receiving a mammogram to be precautious.)

While I rarely look forward to these appointments, I find myself with excited anticipation for my last appointment on Thursday. It’s something I have looked forward to for years, and it’s hard to believe it’s finally here. Barring no new spots on my scans, my port will be removed! A momentous occasion indeed!

As we spend two solid days at MD Anderson with eight separate appointments, we ask that you stand with us in prayer. Though this isn’t our first rodeo and we aren’t expecting news other than the positive kind, fear and anxiety are present, but we are full of faith and cautiously optimistic for good results!

Philippians 4:6-7 (MSG)

“Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.”

08
Aug
2014

Treasures in Texas

MD Anderson Cancer Center

MD Anderson Cancer Center

You know that feeling you get when you’re on your way back home from a trip out of town? The one where, though sad to leave, you are excited to get home and sleep in your own bed? This time I didn’t have it. My trip to Texas was so incredible, I wished I could have stayed longer.

MD Anderson Cancer Center is spectacular. As weird as it may sound, it felt like Disneyland to me. While some may view it as a place where people are dying, I saw it as a place where people are living. The spirit on the campus was breathtaking, and I often had to hold in tears. Walking through the doors of the nation’s greatest center for cancer care was awe-inducing. As if the angels were singing above me, I felt immediately ushered into the community. From the valet attendants and staff, to the doctors and survivors around me, everyone was so kind.

Never did I feel a sense of sadness. Through the view of wheelchairs, bald shiny heads, white coats, and the ever-present ports, I instead felt power, strength, faith, and unwavering hope. We had all shown up that day; a team fighting the same opponent. Arm in arm, mustering up everything within us to defeat cancer. Walking through the halls, I wanted to give everyone passing by a high-five… For all that they have done, and all that they will continue to do.

Among the hope inside it’s walls, MD Anderson is a congregation of camaraderie. A house built to support the strength and determination of people from all over the world. A home to doctors who pour their lives out to help rid our bodies of this disease. A tool for residents and fellows in the shadows of their mentors committed to learning all there is to know about this wretched plague. Survivors. Fighters. Cancer warriors on the front lines. Old and young alike. We were all in it together. Every moment I spent within the campus, I was surrounded by my teammates. My partners in crime. My brothers and sisters facing the same fight I have faced for nearly three years.

There’s something about being aware that everyone around you intimately knows what you are going through. The fears, doubts, and worries are shared. The experiences, surgeries, and treatments are all similar. The prayers, desperation, and pleading is unified. The camaraderie is evident, and though few of us exchanged stories, with a simple meeting of the eyes, we knew. We were walking in similar shoes.

I met with the lead doctor researching my diagnosis, and though I have spoken with him several times over the phone and email, meeting him in person was unlike any encounter I had had before. Upon his entrance into the exam room where I was waiting, I immediately stood up and asked if I could give him a hug. Though a small gesture, It was the least I could do for the one man representing women like me facing such a rare diagnosis. His knowledge astounded me. His passion overflowed. His mission was apparent. He is doing all he can to find a solution to defeat Large (and Small) Cell Neuroendocrine cancer.

After my exam, we sat in an office and went over my case, from diagnosis to the direction of treatment. He told me that he was able to talk for as long or as little as I wanted. This in itself amazed me. He truly is committed to me and my success, and was pouring in whatever I needed while I was there. We spoke about different types of chemotherapy, statistical numbers, the rarity of my specific diagnosis of Large Cell compared to the rare (but more common) Small Cell, the possibility of molecular testing, and maybe even a stem cell transplant.  After our long conversation, we developed a great plan for this fourth adventure. My doctor set up an appointment for a PET scan and contacted the stem cell department to fit me in before I left Houston. I exited his office standing tall and confident in my next steps.

While we are still awaiting results from a few remaining tests, we have chosen a new type of chemotherapy for me to try. After meeting with the stem cell team, we were given a resounding “no” on the idea of a stem cell transplant. There is not enough information to prove that it would be beneficial to my case. Frankly, this is alright by me, as I was simply exploring all of my options and wanted an open door or a closed one, but no in-between. As we expected, my PET scan results came back completely clear and cancer-free. However, though there is no known malignant activity in my body, we must do everything we can to kick it while it’s down. Considering this is my fourth season fighting this stubborn disease, monitoring it is not wise. Therefore, I will be starting a new chemotherapy regimen within the next couple of weeks, and will be back to baldalicious before we know it.

The rest of our trip in Texas was beautiful. The humidity and resounding heat didn’t even bother me! I was too focused on the blessings in my life…The treasures that Texas had to offer. The opportunity to go to MD Anderson. How God worked everything together in His perfect timing. The generosity of those who donated, and the realization that I wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for my supporters. No matter how hard the trial, blessings continue to come. It’s up to us to see them. Light always overcomes the darkness. Our visit to Houston put a spark in my step and lit a new fire underneath me. I have been refreshed and renewed, ready for this next fight ahead of me.

Whoever said, “Third time’s a charm,” was wrong. I believe four will soon become my lucky number.

Awaiting my PET scan and cancer-free results!

Awaiting a PET scan and cancer-free results!

 2 Corinthians 9:8 (MSG)

“God can pour on the blessings in astonishing ways so that you’re ready for anything and everything, more than just ready to do what needs to be done.”

 

24
Jul
2014

We’re Going to Houston!

We asked and you answered. I am in absolute awe, deeply humbled, and practically speechless at the depth of generosity we have received this past week. As most of you know, we set up a GoFundMe online donation account and were surprised when the financial gifts began pouring in. Each gift, no matter how big or small, has touched us. Every donation sent me into tears of joy and gratitude. For a while, I didn’t know why I even bothered to put on makeup. The tears streamed down my face with each encouraging email, heartfelt prayer, and generous gift.

Within four days, we raised far above our set goal of $10,000. As of today, we have received over $12,000 in donations. This means that we are 100% covered to go to Houston. Our airfare, hotel accommodations, rental car, and deductible is taken care of. All we need to focus on is packing our bags, and I think we can handle that.

I have a confession. In the beginning of last week, I was doubtful. I had no idea how we would get to Houston, let alone how we would be able to pay for any of it. Resting beside my doubt was peace. Is that even possible? Typically, I’d say no. However, this time was different. My flesh doubted that we would have the financial ability to travel and stay in Houston for a week. I was doubtful that all of the moving pieces would come together. A lot of pieces needed to fit cohesively, after all. Yet, my spirit was sure, steady, fearless, and at peace with the impending trip. Like a pendulum, I swayed between doubt and confidence.  In the end, my spirit was telling my flesh, “I told you so.” This friends, is yet another reason to trust your gut. Your spirit is always wiser than your flesh.

There were many times this week after reading your words and seeing the donations pour in, that all I could do was praise God. Often, the only words that escaped my lips were those of thanksgiving. Songs of praise and worship to the One who has been faithful through it all. As I’ve shared, God has shown up every single moment I needed Him. He has never left me high and dry. In moments of desperation, He has arrived with abundant blessings. This moment was no different. When I had no idea how a trip to Houston would be possible, God was there to defeat the impossible. He used you to bless me. And because of your obedience, those blessings completely overflowed my cup. Above and beyond… isn’t that how God usually works?

As if I haven’t cried enough this week. I know I won’t be able to make it through this next part without a tear shed… Thank you doesn’t seem like a sufficient enough way to express our gratitude, but I’ll say it anyway for lack of another expression. Thank you. Thank you for listening to the urging in your spirit. Thank you for obeying the call to give. Thank you for standing firmly beside us and lifting us up when we needed you. Thank you for sharing your encouragement and stories of camaraderie. Thank you for stepping out and making a difference. You truly have made a difference in our lives and have allowed us to see a dream come to reality. Thank you for your selfless donations. Thank you for your sincere prayers and well wishes. Thank you.

Because of you, we are now able to travel the miles to see the doctor who will help us navigate our next step in this fourth battle. Because of you, we are officially going to Houston! In fact, I leave this coming Monday for my Tuesday (7/29) appointment. I could not be more excited. I am thrilled at the reality that I will be meeting the doctor who has helped so many other women with my diagnosis. I can’t wait for this once in a lifetime trip. While in Houston, I’ll be visiting MD Anderson Cancer Center for my appointments. There, I will receive a slew of tests, including a PET scan. In addition, samples of my latest tumor are being sent to Houston where they will undergo molecular testing. This specific test involves the dissection of the tumor to determine its actual makeup, allowing my medical team to create the most beneficial recipe for treatment. In Houston, I will be receiving answers that I’ve long prayed for, and a clear direction of what’s to come.

Matt and I ask that you continue to pray for us as we venture to Houston this coming week. Please pray for safe travels, wisdom, and direction. You may also want to pray for our safety as we try to cope with the horrendous Houston traffic! We are expecting God to do big things while we are in Texas, and ask that you stand beside us in expectancy. God has brought us this far and we have faith that He will bring us through to victory.

Thank you for blessing us.

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Luke 18:27 (ESV)

“What is impossible with man is possible with God.”

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Photo Credit: Kimberly Mitiska Photography