30 June 09
1. A giant thank you to Laurie, who sent out all the e-updates over the past week. It was a load off Bryan's shoulders not to have to send them, but still to know they were going out and prayers were going up.
2. A giant thank you to Laura, my sister, who set up this blog and coached me in the way of bloggers.
3. I got home on Monday and am feeling really great. The kids are home. Mom is here for another week. All is very, very well. Thank you for all your prayers. We don't know everything about how prayers works. But one day, we will. And as of today, what I know for certain is that they have been "working" for the last 3 weeks. See below.
4. A brief re-cap: I went into this surgery expecting a radical mastectomy--the breast, all the lymph nodes on the right side and a huge portion of my pectoralis. I was expecting a total of 3 nerves to be cut, a drastic reduction of strength on the right side because of muscle loss, and a disfigurement that basically looked like my right chest was caved in.
The PET scan also showed a cancerous lymph node under the collar bone that the surgery would not be able to address. So even though I'd have these complications for the rest of my life, I would still leave the hospital with cancer in my body.
Bryan and I chose this surgery over the option of doing chemical and protein treatments first. I'll write more about the details in a post under the "Seeing God" label. Suffice to say here that we chose surgery because God led us to it. Not doing the surgery would have amounted--for us--to ignoring the voice of God.
I didn't relish the predicted outcome, but in the end, we made the choice we knew to be God-honoring because we couldn't know for sure with our eyes what was right. But we know for certain that we can't go wrong when our intention is to obey Him.
Here's what actually happened in the surgery: the surgeon took a small slice of muscle and pathology showed it to be non-cancerous, so my pectoralis was spared. The 2 nerves in the muscle went un-touched. (There is no way to avoid the 3rd-it gets cut when the lymph nodes come out.) And, in the words of my surgeon, "By grace, I just reached up in there and was able to feel the lymph node under your collar bone. I pulled it out with my hand." That is, the surgery was a mastectomy, not a radical matectomy, and every last bit of cancer is now out of my body. My surgeon is crediting God for this and so are we.
5. Speaking of the surgeon. Dr. Mayfield. From the beginning--including the moment where he ended up taking our case even though it should have gone to a different doctor on call--God has made it clear that Mayfield is the surgeon He chose for us. And Mayfield himself--by his own accounting--has been filled with a compassion and concern over my case that has exceeded what he usually experiences, and Byran and I believe that this special concern has been an instrument for God to lead us to a choice we otherwise might not have had the courage to make.
My surgery was on Friday at 11 AM. He stayed until 9:30 PM to make sure everything was settled.
There was a blip with the port installation. Something about it didn't go right, and he had to insert a chest tube to suction air out. Because of it, I had an extra 2 seconds of pain when the tube went in to release the air pocket and an extra 2 seconds of pain when the tube came out the next day and a total of 4 days in my own, private room with my own nurse in the ICU. I call that a great bargain.
Mayfield came in himself on Saturday and Sunday--though it wasn't his weekend on call--and even brought his wife on Saturday to meet me! (She is a sweet gal, and the two of them are the cutest couple--I wanted to put them on a shelf!)
It has been a pure blessing to us that he is a believer. In the last 3 weeks, we have clearly seen God's Hand in his. I know I'm going on too long about this. But what can I say? God saved my life and he used Dr. Mayfield to do it.
6. But even greater than Dr. Mayfielf emerges the biggest hero of the story: sweet Bryan. I knew he was an excellent husband. 4 weeks ago, before the diagnosis, I was completely in love with him and completely ensured that he loves me. But in these last weeks--particularly this last one--I have been overwhelmed by his heart. I guess there's no point in giving the details because you already get the point: There is no one I'd rather have at my side on this road, there is no one who could do a better job, and aside from my very salvation, there will be no greater blessing in my life than having Bryan as my husband.
7. I feel like George Baily in It's a Wonderful Life --he has this incredible, unique experiences that shows him how many people love him and value him, that shows him all the ways he is walking in grace. That's what this whole cancer thing has been like for me. I am surrounded by love and support and sweetness, and God is showing me how He's tying it all together, using it all to paint a portrait of provision and protection, mercy and grace.
Thank you thank you thank you all--for your prayers, cards, e-mails, books, flowers and fruit (!) and your love. I am a blessed woman. May God bless you.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Betsy' Report
This one came the morning of my MRI and biopsy"
Dear Amy,
Just to let you know, we are having a wonderful time with the kiddos!
I wanted to share a beautiful response from Josh tonight, just in case you check your e-mails and want to carry something heartwarming with you tomorrow. Josh was gleefully eating his brownie tonight. What a happy munchkin.
I asked him if brownies made him happy. He replied, "No". I asked him what made him happy. "Jesus", he replied matter of factly. This was COMPLETELY on his own. What a beautiful response from such a young little boy.
You are an excellent teacher and mom.
Love, Betsy
Dear Amy,
Just to let you know, we are having a wonderful time with the kiddos!
I wanted to share a beautiful response from Josh tonight, just in case you check your e-mails and want to carry something heartwarming with you tomorrow. Josh was gleefully eating his brownie tonight. What a happy munchkin.
I asked him if brownies made him happy. He replied, "No". I asked him what made him happy. "Jesus", he replied matter of factly. This was COMPLETELY on his own. What a beautiful response from such a young little boy.
You are an excellent teacher and mom.
Love, Betsy
Betsy's Report
Our dear friend, Betsy, is like a grandmother to our kids. Gemma and Josh love her (and Mr. Terry and their two teens, Amy and PJ) and they love to have long visits at their house. Thank You, Jesus for this family!
Betsy wrote in with a few reports while I was in the hospital:
Dear Amy,
Tonight, PJ was tapping underneath the kitchen table during the bedtime snack.
Gemma said, "I know that is you PJ, because my ears pick up a signal and send a picture to my brain so that I know it is you."
PJ thinks she has been sneaking out to Harvard in her spare time.
Josh hit his head on the table trying to get down after snack. PJ ran to his rescue (rats- missed my chance to cuddle!) and held him. He did not want me to cuddle him!
PJ asked him if he was a tough little boy. "No, I am not, but I will rescue myself first!", he replied. Such little cuties.
Thank you for letting us take them for a few days. We are praying for you LOTS and LOTS! You have a whole lotta' love going up for you!
Love, Betsy
Betsy wrote in with a few reports while I was in the hospital:
Dear Amy,
Tonight, PJ was tapping underneath the kitchen table during the bedtime snack.
Gemma said, "I know that is you PJ, because my ears pick up a signal and send a picture to my brain so that I know it is you."
PJ thinks she has been sneaking out to Harvard in her spare time.
Josh hit his head on the table trying to get down after snack. PJ ran to his rescue (rats- missed my chance to cuddle!) and held him. He did not want me to cuddle him!
PJ asked him if he was a tough little boy. "No, I am not, but I will rescue myself first!", he replied. Such little cuties.
Thank you for letting us take them for a few days. We are praying for you LOTS and LOTS! You have a whole lotta' love going up for you!
Love, Betsy
PET Scan Results
25 June 09
My surgery is tomorrow.
The good news from yesterday is that the PET scan came back negative. That is, the cancer is not elsewhere in my body at a size bigger than 1/2 a centimeter. (It might be somewhere smaller than that, I suppose. . .)
It is "locally spread," meaning the tumor in my right breast, the lymph nodes in the right arm pit, and a few lymph nodes up under the collar bone that the surgeon will not be able to remove.
I am thankful for this. The reality of the surgery--a radical mastectomy, which means a big portion of my pectoral muscle too--is kind of hanging over my head and overshadowing the sense of relief I should be feeling. But it's OK for all of you to feel relieved.
The PET scan began with an injection of radioactive glucose. Many of you know that I have a bizarre allergy to refined sugar--even a little bit of it gives me the effects of severe food poisoning. About 6 hours after the injection, I had a "sugar reaction" and spent the entire night in the bathroom with vomitting and toilet problems. It is very hard to recover from a night like that under normal circumstances, but with the added stress of the surgery, today has been a very, very difficult day indeed.
I'll have to ask next time if they can use organic radioactive glucose.
I keep thinking of the part of Christ's passion where He prayed in the garden. Knowing what was coming ahead of Him. Not really wanting to go there. And yet He did, and He did it for love. I feel like I'm tasting a small sip of that cup--there is so much sadness and grief in this. And yet I will do this for my children and for Bryan.
Romans 8 has also been a real comfort to me. It happens sometimes that you read a verse that you've read before many times only this time it shines in a different way. This is what has ministered to me:
"Those who live in the Spirit set their minds on things of the Spirit. Those who live in the flesh set their minds on things of the flesh."
I live in the Spirit. And what is true about the spiritual world is that my Redeemer lives, and He reigns, and He walks ahead of me in this. So, grief. . .yes. But there is comfort for those who mourn. And His joy comes in the morning.
My surgery is tomorrow.
The good news from yesterday is that the PET scan came back negative. That is, the cancer is not elsewhere in my body at a size bigger than 1/2 a centimeter. (It might be somewhere smaller than that, I suppose. . .)
It is "locally spread," meaning the tumor in my right breast, the lymph nodes in the right arm pit, and a few lymph nodes up under the collar bone that the surgeon will not be able to remove.
I am thankful for this. The reality of the surgery--a radical mastectomy, which means a big portion of my pectoral muscle too--is kind of hanging over my head and overshadowing the sense of relief I should be feeling. But it's OK for all of you to feel relieved.
The PET scan began with an injection of radioactive glucose. Many of you know that I have a bizarre allergy to refined sugar--even a little bit of it gives me the effects of severe food poisoning. About 6 hours after the injection, I had a "sugar reaction" and spent the entire night in the bathroom with vomitting and toilet problems. It is very hard to recover from a night like that under normal circumstances, but with the added stress of the surgery, today has been a very, very difficult day indeed.
I'll have to ask next time if they can use organic radioactive glucose.
I keep thinking of the part of Christ's passion where He prayed in the garden. Knowing what was coming ahead of Him. Not really wanting to go there. And yet He did, and He did it for love. I feel like I'm tasting a small sip of that cup--there is so much sadness and grief in this. And yet I will do this for my children and for Bryan.
Romans 8 has also been a real comfort to me. It happens sometimes that you read a verse that you've read before many times only this time it shines in a different way. This is what has ministered to me:
"Those who live in the Spirit set their minds on things of the Spirit. Those who live in the flesh set their minds on things of the flesh."
I live in the Spirit. And what is true about the spiritual world is that my Redeemer lives, and He reigns, and He walks ahead of me in this. So, grief. . .yes. But there is comfort for those who mourn. And His joy comes in the morning.
Marathon
21 June 09
As we've prayed about this whole cancer thing, what we've been hearing back from God is that we are heading down a long road that will end well. God has told us several times: This is a marathon, not a sprint.
Go back 5 years to our time in Korea. The movie theater there showed movies for free, so we went all the time. They always showed the same refreshment movie where candy wrappers balled themselves up and jumped into the trash can and tubs of popcorn gathered into a kickline. The music to this movie was so wonderful! It was fast and catchy and I'd always kind of dance in my seat and tell Bryan how badly I wanted a copy of this song. This was music that could get me out of bed in the morning!
But there are no credits for that kind of thing. I had nothing to go on. No artist. No title. Nothin'! I left Korea and said goodbye to that refreshment music.
Fast forward to this past weekend. We had promised Josh that we'd take him to the "North Pole" (a kiddie-ride amusement park nestled into the mountains) for his 3rd birthday. Figuring that I might not be feeling to well come late July, we went on Sunday. Had a great time. Perfect weather. Not crowded. So much fun. We took a break to watch the magic show and the magician took the stage and began performing to. . . that refreshment song!!!!!! I couldn't believe it! Bryan! That's the song!
After the show, I approached the magician and said, "Great show, great show--now what was that one song called?"
"Oh, this one?" he asked, and re-played a snippet of it. "This is called 'Marathon.'"
Well. How about that.
People, what can I say? If Jesus Christ did not resurrect from the dead, if He stayed dead as all other people do, then I am imagining things. I'm imagining God's peace. I'm fabricating this joy. And the 15 years since I chose to believe that Jesus Christ is the resurrected Savior have not been full of God's Hand working in my life. They've been full of coincidence and wishful thinking.
But if He did resurrect from the dead, then I am right to put my hope and trust in Him, and the belief that He is mighty to save.
I am thankful that this tough road before me comes only after I spent 5 years working for a New Testament historian specializing in debates with atheists and Muslims. In those 5 years, I came across every objection to God, to Jesus, to the Bible. And I've seen each objection fail. (I could even make a bar game out of it: If you can come up with an objection I've never heard of, I'll buy you a drink. And if I can't come up with a good and reasonable answer to it, I'll start drinking with you.) I can gladly say that my faith is born and strengthened by experience and rational inquiry.
So if you're reading this and thinking that you are glad that I'm walking in peace even though it's from some sort of placebo effect, please consider beginning or resuming or re-visiting your own inquiry. And I'm not asking you to do it because I've got cancer and can therefore ask anything of anybody. I'm asking because you are all going to die at some point. And if now isn't an OK time to bring up that fact and sincerely share my deep hope that my entire family will know the riches of Christ along with me, then there will never be an OK time.
As we've prayed about this whole cancer thing, what we've been hearing back from God is that we are heading down a long road that will end well. God has told us several times: This is a marathon, not a sprint.
Go back 5 years to our time in Korea. The movie theater there showed movies for free, so we went all the time. They always showed the same refreshment movie where candy wrappers balled themselves up and jumped into the trash can and tubs of popcorn gathered into a kickline. The music to this movie was so wonderful! It was fast and catchy and I'd always kind of dance in my seat and tell Bryan how badly I wanted a copy of this song. This was music that could get me out of bed in the morning!
But there are no credits for that kind of thing. I had nothing to go on. No artist. No title. Nothin'! I left Korea and said goodbye to that refreshment music.
Fast forward to this past weekend. We had promised Josh that we'd take him to the "North Pole" (a kiddie-ride amusement park nestled into the mountains) for his 3rd birthday. Figuring that I might not be feeling to well come late July, we went on Sunday. Had a great time. Perfect weather. Not crowded. So much fun. We took a break to watch the magic show and the magician took the stage and began performing to. . . that refreshment song!!!!!! I couldn't believe it! Bryan! That's the song!
After the show, I approached the magician and said, "Great show, great show--now what was that one song called?"
"Oh, this one?" he asked, and re-played a snippet of it. "This is called 'Marathon.'"
Well. How about that.
People, what can I say? If Jesus Christ did not resurrect from the dead, if He stayed dead as all other people do, then I am imagining things. I'm imagining God's peace. I'm fabricating this joy. And the 15 years since I chose to believe that Jesus Christ is the resurrected Savior have not been full of God's Hand working in my life. They've been full of coincidence and wishful thinking.
But if He did resurrect from the dead, then I am right to put my hope and trust in Him, and the belief that He is mighty to save.
I am thankful that this tough road before me comes only after I spent 5 years working for a New Testament historian specializing in debates with atheists and Muslims. In those 5 years, I came across every objection to God, to Jesus, to the Bible. And I've seen each objection fail. (I could even make a bar game out of it: If you can come up with an objection I've never heard of, I'll buy you a drink. And if I can't come up with a good and reasonable answer to it, I'll start drinking with you.) I can gladly say that my faith is born and strengthened by experience and rational inquiry.
So if you're reading this and thinking that you are glad that I'm walking in peace even though it's from some sort of placebo effect, please consider beginning or resuming or re-visiting your own inquiry. And I'm not asking you to do it because I've got cancer and can therefore ask anything of anybody. I'm asking because you are all going to die at some point. And if now isn't an OK time to bring up that fact and sincerely share my deep hope that my entire family will know the riches of Christ along with me, then there will never be an OK time.
Surgical Consult
17 June 09
Bryan and I went to my consult today. Our biggest prayer was that we'd either have an extreme peace with the Army surgeon, or that serious red flags would go up such that we'd seek medicine out in town with civilians.
By way of bias, we were already gunning to get out into town. But it turns out that Dr. Mayfield is awesome. We love him already! Our concerns were all laid to rest and we're completely confident in entrusting my care to him. Praise God. Truly. He has made the path ahead of us very clear and we're both glad to have no ambiguity about it.
There is only one course to pursue and though it looks rough, at least it is plainly evident. Mine is a common kind of cancer, the sort that grows in the ducts. The tumor is a whopping 8 cm big. 8 centimeters. That's pretty freaking huge, and Mayfield guesses that it has been growing for several years now. And it's aggressive, too, as it is already pushing into my muscle. It's rare to find this kind of cancer is someone 34 years old--I'm in an elite 5%. So how about that.
Surgery is scheduled for next Friday, the 26th. It will be a radical mastectomy, which means he'll carve into my muscle as well (which means the recovery will be a pretty big deal. On the one hand, it's a bummer to lose a breast. On the other hand, I really see today how life threatening this cancer is. As Mayfield said--with tears in his eyes, which I thought was great--I really only have one shot at getting this right. So there's no holding back. There is a lot of grief in this. But there's no point in being in a coffin with 2 breasts. That are getting a little saggy anyway. And frankly, once I'm re-constructed, I'll be even more smoking hot than I am now.
Before the surgery, I'll undergo some sort of glucose imaging procedure where they'll determine if the cancer has spread into any other organs. They are nearly certain it's in the lymph nodes of the right armpit. The left lymph nodes and the left breast, at this point using the MRI, look clean. So all the right lymph nodes will come out during surgery as well. Before the operation, I'll also see an oncologist and radiation guy to consult with them. Then they'll confer with the surgeon and tell him if and where to place the valves that they'll use to shoot the chemicals through. Mayfield is 95% certain that both therapy doctors will recommend giving me everything in their armory. Because I'm young and healthy, I'll be able to tolerate anything. And so they'll want to hit me with "The steak, the potato, the green bean, and then the tray itself." Because, again, my first shot is my best shot. As unpleasant as this sounds, I'd rather they be aggressive than having them tenderfoot around, hoping for the best.
Again, I cannot tell you how pleased we are with this guy. It really feels like God hand-picked him for us. We also happened to discover that he is a Christian who first submitted to the Lord in 2006, and that he had prayed before our appointment. He intends to remain in the military for 20 years, which is usually a serious warning sign because competent doctors can find better-paying employment elsewhere. But he's staying because his wife has MS, and in this way, he can ensure that she will always have medical coverage. (This is an example of a concern laid to rest. e.g. That he's not an incompetent military doctor. :) Needless to say, it'd be hard to imagine a better match for ourselves.
Bryan and I went to my consult today. Our biggest prayer was that we'd either have an extreme peace with the Army surgeon, or that serious red flags would go up such that we'd seek medicine out in town with civilians.
By way of bias, we were already gunning to get out into town. But it turns out that Dr. Mayfield is awesome. We love him already! Our concerns were all laid to rest and we're completely confident in entrusting my care to him. Praise God. Truly. He has made the path ahead of us very clear and we're both glad to have no ambiguity about it.
There is only one course to pursue and though it looks rough, at least it is plainly evident. Mine is a common kind of cancer, the sort that grows in the ducts. The tumor is a whopping 8 cm big. 8 centimeters. That's pretty freaking huge, and Mayfield guesses that it has been growing for several years now. And it's aggressive, too, as it is already pushing into my muscle. It's rare to find this kind of cancer is someone 34 years old--I'm in an elite 5%. So how about that.
Surgery is scheduled for next Friday, the 26th. It will be a radical mastectomy, which means he'll carve into my muscle as well (which means the recovery will be a pretty big deal. On the one hand, it's a bummer to lose a breast. On the other hand, I really see today how life threatening this cancer is. As Mayfield said--with tears in his eyes, which I thought was great--I really only have one shot at getting this right. So there's no holding back. There is a lot of grief in this. But there's no point in being in a coffin with 2 breasts. That are getting a little saggy anyway. And frankly, once I'm re-constructed, I'll be even more smoking hot than I am now.
Before the surgery, I'll undergo some sort of glucose imaging procedure where they'll determine if the cancer has spread into any other organs. They are nearly certain it's in the lymph nodes of the right armpit. The left lymph nodes and the left breast, at this point using the MRI, look clean. So all the right lymph nodes will come out during surgery as well. Before the operation, I'll also see an oncologist and radiation guy to consult with them. Then they'll confer with the surgeon and tell him if and where to place the valves that they'll use to shoot the chemicals through. Mayfield is 95% certain that both therapy doctors will recommend giving me everything in their armory. Because I'm young and healthy, I'll be able to tolerate anything. And so they'll want to hit me with "The steak, the potato, the green bean, and then the tray itself." Because, again, my first shot is my best shot. As unpleasant as this sounds, I'd rather they be aggressive than having them tenderfoot around, hoping for the best.
Again, I cannot tell you how pleased we are with this guy. It really feels like God hand-picked him for us. We also happened to discover that he is a Christian who first submitted to the Lord in 2006, and that he had prayed before our appointment. He intends to remain in the military for 20 years, which is usually a serious warning sign because competent doctors can find better-paying employment elsewhere. But he's staying because his wife has MS, and in this way, he can ensure that she will always have medical coverage. (This is an example of a concern laid to rest. e.g. That he's not an incompetent military doctor. :) Needless to say, it'd be hard to imagine a better match for ourselves.
The First News
11 June 09
Hello Everyone--Laura, Trey, MJ, Marc, Leslie, John, Susan, Janice and Carlo, Mom and Dad--I don't have addresses for all the "in-laws," but of course I'm writing to you all: The following is not good news, and I'm sharing it over e-mail so as not to repeat the same conversation 6 times (though I did just talk with Mom and Dad on the phone).
I have breast cancer. I found a lump on the right side, near the arm pit. Went in to have it checked last Thursday. That nurse practitioner ordered an ultra sound and mammogram right away, which I did that same morning. The radiologist read it right there and ordered a biopsy and MRI, which I just did this morning at the Air Force Academy. All of which is a very good start to my next hilarious book, the working title of which is "The Cancer Chronicles."
They are expediting the biopsy results so that we'll get them tomorrow. I should say here that it's not official yet. But the nurse practitioner is right now setting up a surgical consult for me so that when the results arrive, I can meet with the surgeon immediately. The radiologist and biopsy guy both did things that indicated how concerned they were--e.g. ordering an MRI along with the biopsy instead of waiting for biopsy results first, which is the usual, and taking 8 samples instead of 6--so I asked the nurse what the warning bells were that were causing so much concern. The lump is irregular in shape, it casts a shadow and calcification spots showed up on the mammo. And it's on a lymph node.
I feel confident that I'm in good hands, and am very thankful they are all working so quickly on my behalf. I haven't said anything to you all this week because I didn't see the need to cause needless concern. But now I might well go into surgery by Friday night/sometime this weekend, and with the kids at Betsy's (she took them for the whole day), now is a good time to write this e-mail.
I will surely keep you all posted on the results tomorrow and the surgeon's consult. Most importantly, I have to tell you about the amazing week between last Thursday--when I thought they'd tell me this was just a swollen lymph node--to today. It has been the most joyful week of my life. Truly. The first day or so, I was frought with all the typical emotions we'd expect. But starting with the church service we went to on Saturday night and continuing on without interruption, God has been pouring joy and peace on me.
Not coincidentally, this is our Vacation Bible School week--for Gemma and Josh, and for me as I've been leading games for the little ones. Every morning I've been surrounded by dear friends, and worship songs that remind me of God's power and His faithfulness. And as I've prayed, and as Bryan has, and Betsy, too, the answer back has been repeatedly that there are trials ahead, but that this isn't going to kill me, and that God will bring mighty blessings out of it. So, in this way, it's a pretty exciting time for us. I know that not all of you can relate to what I've described. But I tell you about it in the hope that it will lessen your concern for me. I am in Good and Loving Hands. :)
I'm cutting and pasting a prayer that my dear friend, Mandy, offered for me because
a) it made me laugh and
b) it reminds me of the wonderfully supportive place I'm in right now. I hope it helps you, too.
love Amella!
"Dear God, Lord, this really sucks!! Praise YOu for being Soveriegn over all things. Amy is your most precious daughter, the Apple of Your eye! Her life is an act of worship to you and her Love for you is contagious. God You are always good and we are asking You, in Your Most Holy Name, to give Amy an abundant and joyfilled and Long life!!!
Jesus thank you for Amy and what you have already done in her life. We praise You Yaweh for the Wife and Mother and Friend she is and the pure Joy and fun she excudes!! My prayer for Amy is long life and long boobs... meaning she will see the day when those big girls can be tied around her waist.
Thank you Lord. Bless Amy and her family tomorrow and in the coming weeks, and we trust you God. Asking You for Complete healing in Your Name. Amen."
Hello Everyone--Laura, Trey, MJ, Marc, Leslie, John, Susan, Janice and Carlo, Mom and Dad--I don't have addresses for all the "in-laws," but of course I'm writing to you all: The following is not good news, and I'm sharing it over e-mail so as not to repeat the same conversation 6 times (though I did just talk with Mom and Dad on the phone).
I have breast cancer. I found a lump on the right side, near the arm pit. Went in to have it checked last Thursday. That nurse practitioner ordered an ultra sound and mammogram right away, which I did that same morning. The radiologist read it right there and ordered a biopsy and MRI, which I just did this morning at the Air Force Academy. All of which is a very good start to my next hilarious book, the working title of which is "The Cancer Chronicles."
They are expediting the biopsy results so that we'll get them tomorrow. I should say here that it's not official yet. But the nurse practitioner is right now setting up a surgical consult for me so that when the results arrive, I can meet with the surgeon immediately. The radiologist and biopsy guy both did things that indicated how concerned they were--e.g. ordering an MRI along with the biopsy instead of waiting for biopsy results first, which is the usual, and taking 8 samples instead of 6--so I asked the nurse what the warning bells were that were causing so much concern. The lump is irregular in shape, it casts a shadow and calcification spots showed up on the mammo. And it's on a lymph node.
I feel confident that I'm in good hands, and am very thankful they are all working so quickly on my behalf. I haven't said anything to you all this week because I didn't see the need to cause needless concern. But now I might well go into surgery by Friday night/sometime this weekend, and with the kids at Betsy's (she took them for the whole day), now is a good time to write this e-mail.
I will surely keep you all posted on the results tomorrow and the surgeon's consult. Most importantly, I have to tell you about the amazing week between last Thursday--when I thought they'd tell me this was just a swollen lymph node--to today. It has been the most joyful week of my life. Truly. The first day or so, I was frought with all the typical emotions we'd expect. But starting with the church service we went to on Saturday night and continuing on without interruption, God has been pouring joy and peace on me.
Not coincidentally, this is our Vacation Bible School week--for Gemma and Josh, and for me as I've been leading games for the little ones. Every morning I've been surrounded by dear friends, and worship songs that remind me of God's power and His faithfulness. And as I've prayed, and as Bryan has, and Betsy, too, the answer back has been repeatedly that there are trials ahead, but that this isn't going to kill me, and that God will bring mighty blessings out of it. So, in this way, it's a pretty exciting time for us. I know that not all of you can relate to what I've described. But I tell you about it in the hope that it will lessen your concern for me. I am in Good and Loving Hands. :)
I'm cutting and pasting a prayer that my dear friend, Mandy, offered for me because
a) it made me laugh and
b) it reminds me of the wonderfully supportive place I'm in right now. I hope it helps you, too.
love Amella!
"Dear God, Lord, this really sucks!! Praise YOu for being Soveriegn over all things. Amy is your most precious daughter, the Apple of Your eye! Her life is an act of worship to you and her Love for you is contagious. God You are always good and we are asking You, in Your Most Holy Name, to give Amy an abundant and joyfilled and Long life!!!
Jesus thank you for Amy and what you have already done in her life. We praise You Yaweh for the Wife and Mother and Friend she is and the pure Joy and fun she excudes!! My prayer for Amy is long life and long boobs... meaning she will see the day when those big girls can be tied around her waist.
Thank you Lord. Bless Amy and her family tomorrow and in the coming weeks, and we trust you God. Asking You for Complete healing in Your Name. Amen."
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