Update for February 6, 2015

I feel a little like one of those ungrateful Israelites whom God delivered from Egypt. He went to a lot of trouble to free them from Pharaoh. (Remember all of those nasty plagues?) They were thankful and happy about it for all of two minutes. Then they started complaining again.

That has always bothered me. I never could understand why those people seemed so ungrateful. Couldn’t they remember all God had just done for them? Seems like someone parting the Red Sea to save my life would have stayed with me for awhile, but not the children of Israel, they always found something else to complain about.

I’ve been such an Israelite this week.

January 7th, two days after returning home from my last clinical trial chemo (#13), my chest started hurting. Specifically my lungs. It hurt to breathe. So much in fact, I told Patrick if I could just take a few minutes break, and not breathe, that would be great. (He didn’t recommend it.)

My doctor at MD Anderson asked my local doctor to take an x-ray of my lungs to make sure there was no fluid. He did, and it was clear. So she told me if it got worse to call her immediately.

It didn’t really get worse, but it didn’t improve, either. And by the next week, I had the added symptoms of headaches and blurry vision.

When I saw my doctor on January 26th, for the first of four new chemo regimens, I informed her of my new symptoms and added that my lungs were still hurting and I still suffered from shortness of breath.

I wasn’t expecting what she said next. She explained that although rare, Inflammatory Breast Cancer can sometimes spread to other parts of the body during treatment. My symptoms greatly troubled her and she told me I needed to undergo a CT scan on my lungs and an MRI on my brain immediately.

I don’t remember much after that. Pretty sure the room started spinning and all I could think was, “No God. Please no.”

I wanted to get the scans done locally (long story, but mostly I just wanted to be near family) so both scans were scheduled for Thursday, January 29th, at Conway Regional.

Monday afternoon to Thursday morning was oh. my. goodness. Just agonizing. My symptoms grew worse (probably because of all the stress and worry) and by Wednesday afternoon each breath seemed to be a struggle. The headaches worsened and I could hardly lift my head up because of the pain.

I would love to tell you that by the time I went for my scans on Thursday morning my faith was so strong that nothing could shake it. But, I was so scared. I went into that CT Scan full of fear.

Immediately after, shaking and still very much afraid, I was placed in the MRI machine. As I laid there listening to the machine humming and whirring, God suddenly brought a very old song to my mind. The song came out in 1979 and was sung by Russ Taff, who was with the Imperials at the time. I hadn’t thought of the song in years and years, but to my surprise, I remembered every single word.

When you’re up against a struggle that shatters all your dreams
And your hopes have been cruelly crushed by Satan’s manifested schemes
And you feel the urge within you to submit to earthly fears
Don’t let the faith you’re standing in, seem to disappear

Praise the Lord, He can work through those who praise Him
Praise the Lord, for our God inhabits praise
Praise the Lord, for the chains that seems to bind you
Serve only to remind you that they drop powerless behind you
When you praise Him

Now Satan is a liar and he wants to make us think, that we are paupers
When he knows himself we’re children of the King
So lift up the mighty shield of faith for the battle must be won
We know that Jesus Christ has risen so the work’s already done

Praise the Lord, He can work through those who praise Him
Praise the Lord, for our God inhabits praise
Praise the Lord, for the chains that seems to bind you
Serve only to remind you that they drop powerless behind you
When you praise Him

I sang it over and over in my mind. “So lift up the mighty shield of faith for the battle must be won. We know that Jesus Christ has risen so the work’s already done.”

Each time I sang it, my faith grew. And then I just did what the song said; I started praising the Lord. I praised Him for my healing. I thanked Him over and over for all He has done for me. All He has brought me through. All He was doing at that very moment. The more I praised, the less fear I felt.

When they took me out of the machine I was in complete peace. They wheeled me out to Patrick and I said, “I’m good. It’s all good. I want some pancakes.”

Complete peace.

I was so thankful.

It lasted about two minutes.

Because, actually, they didn’t stop walking when we reached Patrick. They kept pushing my wheelchair onward and explained to us that I was a little dehydrated and needed some fluids. I was on my way to the ER.

It was a little confusing.

I was put in a room and a very nice doctor came in and asked me if I knew why I was there, which I thought was odd, considering he was the one who should know why I was there. I told him I was dehydrated and needed some fluid and then he bent down beside my bed.

When he did that, I think the room started spinning again.

He explained that the CT Scan revealed that I had a Pulmonary Embolism (blood clot) in my lungs.

And honestly, my first thought was, “That is SO AWESOME!”

Because, even though I wasn’t real sure what that was a Pulmonary Embolism was, anything was better than what my doctor at MD Anderson thought it might be.

But before I could celebrate too much, he told me that I was very fortunate that I was alive and walking around and I would immediately be admitted to the hospital.

I was still thankful. We all were. Both the CT Scan and MRI were completely clear of anything else. My hospital room was party central.

Except when five days later I was still there.

I wanted to be home. I missed my kids. My twice daily shots (blood thinners) were getting on my nerves. I was irritable. So irritable. Especially when it dawned on me that my 21 days at home was speeding by quickly and I was wasting it in that miserable hospital.

Oh how easily we forget what God has done for us.

Just days before, I was celebrating God’s healing and a good report.

Now I was complaining that I needed to be home. And that shot HURT! And the food. Seriously, the food. I’ve never had manna, but at least those Israelites didn’t have to eat hospital food.

Finally, my doctor at MD Anderson told the hospital that I could be discharged late Monday evening.

Tuesday I was thankful to be home.

Wednesday I was aggravated that I was still so weak. And the shots. So tired of the shots! And they HURT!

And then it dawned on me. I don’t stay thankful very long.

Why do I do that? God just spared my life. He DID part the Red Sea for me last week. Why am I so quick to forget?

I don’t have the answer to that, but I will tell you this; I’m working on perpetual praise. Continual thanksgiving. Ceaseless gratitude.

I decided to go all the way back to 2004, and write down every answer to every prayer I could remember for each year. So many miracles. Big ones! Red Sea and manna type miracles! How could I forget those? Creed’s 9th birthday was last week. Has it really been nine years since God miraculously protected both of us during his birth? He’s been with us. He’s taken care of every need. He’s never left us one time. He will continue to be with us.

I’m steadily improving every day. Apparently blood clots don’t dissipate quickly. I will be on these lovely shots indefinitely. And instead of complaining (because they HURT), I’ve decided that each time I get a shot, which is twice a day, I will thank God for one of the many, many times He’s been there for me. It may be something He did yesterday, or something He did ten years ago, but I’m going to thank Him. Hoping these twice daily reminders help me on the perpetual praise and end this problem I have of forgetting God’s miraculous provision so quickly. How can I complain? God has been so good to me. So, so good to me.

I return to MD Anderson for #15 on February 16th. Praying that this time, it’s uneventful. No extra tests. No mysterious symptoms. Just treatment and healing.

Thank you for your prayers friends. God has heard them. I’m still here.

Love you all.