Today, we went to the clinic for blood work, and then received some potassium and magnesium. The chemo and such does lots to imbalance things like this so it was good to get what I needed. Afterwards, we met with the Stem Cell transplant nurse coordinator and my doctor. We signed the consent form for the stem cell transplant after my doctor went over the scary page (all the side effects and things that could go wrong.)
We also got a schedule that is quite a bit different from what we have been thinking. There has to be four weeks between the intense chemo I received two weeks ago and the start of the transplant process. The good news is that we get to go home to North Augusta for a couple of weeks, and then come back for the transplant mid-March. It will be nice to have a break.
Today, as I was receiving my magnesium and potassium, April asked me something about Psalm 139. After answering her question, I took the time to read the whole Psalm and was reminded just how intimately aware our creator is of each of us. He knows how we are made. He knows what we are going to say before we say it. He is aware of every one of us all the time. In spite of what we face in this life, we do not go it alone. He is with me as I go through this treatment and seek to deal with this disease. He is with my wife as she takes on the role of caregiver (extraordinaire, I might add). He is with you no matter what you are facing.
Thank you for your continued prayers. They continue to be the essential element in all of this.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Collection Day
The day started off with a discovery that I have begun to shed (losing my hair). That whole process should not take too long.
At the clinic, after initial blood work, we were told we might not have enough stem cells mobilized, and might not get to do the collection. The more definitive test would take about three hours. So April and I went to the lobby (much more comfortable chairs there) and did Internet (imagine that). I first sent out a request to the prayer chain and then posted on Facebook the need to pray that we could do this today.
After the three hour wait, we went back up to the collection place, and they told me that the test was very good and they might be able to get all they needed (10 million) today! Since it would take about an hour to get the machine and stuff ready, they told us to go to lunch, and we did.
They did the collection, and it took about four-and-a-half hours. We left the hospital at 5:00 or so, and they just called from the lab and said they got seventeen million cells! When God answers a prayer, sometimes he answers very loudly. PTL!
Tomorrow we go for appointments and find out exactly when the next step is and when. April and I think we may be confused on when they will do the transplant. Hopefully tomorrow we will be able to let you know more accurately what is ahead.
Again, thanks for your prayers!
At the clinic, after initial blood work, we were told we might not have enough stem cells mobilized, and might not get to do the collection. The more definitive test would take about three hours. So April and I went to the lobby (much more comfortable chairs there) and did Internet (imagine that). I first sent out a request to the prayer chain and then posted on Facebook the need to pray that we could do this today.
After the three hour wait, we went back up to the collection place, and they told me that the test was very good and they might be able to get all they needed (10 million) today! Since it would take about an hour to get the machine and stuff ready, they told us to go to lunch, and we did.
They did the collection, and it took about four-and-a-half hours. We left the hospital at 5:00 or so, and they just called from the lab and said they got seventeen million cells! When God answers a prayer, sometimes he answers very loudly. PTL!
Tomorrow we go for appointments and find out exactly when the next step is and when. April and I think we may be confused on when they will do the transplant. Hopefully tomorrow we will be able to let you know more accurately what is ahead.
Again, thanks for your prayers!
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Vulnerable
First, a few pictures. Left, the view from the Emory window last week (2.8-2.12). Atlanta's skyline is in the background. Nice view. Center, similar view on the Friday of the big snow. Right, I still have what little hair I have. It may be gone tomorrow, but for now, it is hanging on. Now, to more important things...
“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that His life may also be revealed in our mortal body.”
2 Corinthians 4:7-11
This disease makes me very aware that this body is just a jar of clay. You can talk about “abs of steel” all you want, but nobody really has those. They are an illusion of strength over a very vulnerable body.
Paul is speaking of all the things he has experienced in his recent ministry, much of which I know very little about. But I get the clay jar image. That is the reality for all of us. The key in this passage for me is at the end. I am here so that His life may be revealed in my (very) mortal body. The only way for this to happen is reliance on the Spirit that lives in me to come through. If I am doing this by “Tom’s strength,” that is what will come through, and it likely will not be very positive. I want His life to come through this mortal body and life.
It is a revelation in some ways to discover just how vulnerable we are. In our culture, we tend to believe that we can fix anything, given enough time and resources, but sometimes things really are beyond our control, period. Whether it be a disease, or some life circumstance, it is an opportunity for God to show Himself faithful, if we will rely on Him and trust him to work.
Update:
Thursday I was having lots of trouble with dizziness, and went to the clinic of a regular appointment. The appointment went fine, but they determined I was low on fluid (dehydrated) so after two liters I was re-juice-i-nated and things have not spun around nearly as much. I still have to be careful when I stand, because some of the meds make you a bit dizzy anyway, but it is way better.
We have to make a quick visit to the lab on Sunday morning to check my blood levels in preparation for stem cell collection to begin on Monday morning, but hopefully that will not take much time, even if they have to give me some juice or blood or something.
Prayer requests: Continue to pray that God is glorified in all of this, that stem cell collection will go smoothly and quickly (a couple of days rather than three or four) and that I will tolerate that procedure well.
Thanks! Your prayers are the essential ingredient in the treatment I receive.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Goliaths
A week or so ago, I heard from a pastor friend in another country that he and his congregation were praying 1 Samuel 17:47 for me. When I looked it up, I found it right in the middle of David’s words to Goliath. The key phrase here is “the battle is the Lord’s.”
We all have our Goliaths. Most of us face numerous ones in our lives. It may be dealing with a relationship, a challenge at school or work, a disease, or some other thing that seems impossible to resolve or work through. But, for the Christ-follower, we have the Lord. This does not mean we don’t do anything and God does it all. David selected the stones, and knew how to use that sling, but the outcome was in the Lord’s hands.
Realizing that we do not face these trials alone is great comfort. It might be nice for God to remove them, or never allowing them to happen in the first place, but it is adversity that causes us to grow (see James 1) and prepares us to be able to help others in similar circumstances (see 2 Corinthians 1). I don’t know about you, but for me, God always has more of my attention when I am in “adverse” or “out-of-my-comfort-zone” situations. It is in those times that I learn most of Him and His ways.
Update:
For me, the chemo, except for the big dose to wipe out my bone marrow and immune system, is done. I feel pretty good today. Joints are a little achy, but they told me to expect that from the injections that mobilize my stem cells from the bone marrow into the blood stream. So far, it is not nearly as bad as they may ache when you have the flu. (That was the worst-case scenario they told me about.)
Today is a clinic free day, so it is nice. I have been able to do a little work, a little reading, and some resting. I have to go tomorrow, and then Monday they start the collection of the stem cells. You can pray that they get all they need in a day or two, rather than three or four. That would either give me a few more rest days before the transplant week, or speed the process up a tad. Either would be okay.
Thanks for your prayers. They are the most important ingredients in all of this.
We all have our Goliaths. Most of us face numerous ones in our lives. It may be dealing with a relationship, a challenge at school or work, a disease, or some other thing that seems impossible to resolve or work through. But, for the Christ-follower, we have the Lord. This does not mean we don’t do anything and God does it all. David selected the stones, and knew how to use that sling, but the outcome was in the Lord’s hands.
Realizing that we do not face these trials alone is great comfort. It might be nice for God to remove them, or never allowing them to happen in the first place, but it is adversity that causes us to grow (see James 1) and prepares us to be able to help others in similar circumstances (see 2 Corinthians 1). I don’t know about you, but for me, God always has more of my attention when I am in “adverse” or “out-of-my-comfort-zone” situations. It is in those times that I learn most of Him and His ways.
Update:
For me, the chemo, except for the big dose to wipe out my bone marrow and immune system, is done. I feel pretty good today. Joints are a little achy, but they told me to expect that from the injections that mobilize my stem cells from the bone marrow into the blood stream. So far, it is not nearly as bad as they may ache when you have the flu. (That was the worst-case scenario they told me about.)
Today is a clinic free day, so it is nice. I have been able to do a little work, a little reading, and some resting. I have to go tomorrow, and then Monday they start the collection of the stem cells. You can pray that they get all they need in a day or two, rather than three or four. That would either give me a few more rest days before the transplant week, or speed the process up a tad. Either would be okay.
Thanks for your prayers. They are the most important ingredients in all of this.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Not Knowing Where You Are Going
"By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going." - Hebrews 11:8
This verse was quoted in another blog I keep up with, and when I read it, I thought, "that is the way I feel right now." We have come through week one with intense chemo, and now we are doing something different, at least to some degree, every week, and I don't know what it is going to be like, feel like or whatever. An adventure, for sure. This week is mobilizing the stem cells. Next week is collecting ten million or so of those little fellas.
Instead of me shooting people with a Canon (camera) my wife (an RN, for those who don't know) is shooting me. She gave me two shots this morning. Happy Valentines Day! She is a great wife and a great nurse.
So how am I doing? Overall, pretty well. I have sort of an underlying nausea feeling, but, with proper medication, it is livable. Appetite is suppressed somewhat, but that will not likely hurt me either. Energy level isn't very high, but I am getting around and doing what needs to be done. Much of the time I am sort of in slow motion.
God is still God, and He is in control. Like Abraham, I cannot see around the corner to know what is ahead. But I know that God knows, and that is who counts. He is the one who will bring us up this hill and to the destination He desires.
Thanks to all of you for your prayers and your encouragement during these days. It means more than you know.
This verse was quoted in another blog I keep up with, and when I read it, I thought, "that is the way I feel right now." We have come through week one with intense chemo, and now we are doing something different, at least to some degree, every week, and I don't know what it is going to be like, feel like or whatever. An adventure, for sure. This week is mobilizing the stem cells. Next week is collecting ten million or so of those little fellas.
Instead of me shooting people with a Canon (camera) my wife (an RN, for those who don't know) is shooting me. She gave me two shots this morning. Happy Valentines Day! She is a great wife and a great nurse.
So how am I doing? Overall, pretty well. I have sort of an underlying nausea feeling, but, with proper medication, it is livable. Appetite is suppressed somewhat, but that will not likely hurt me either. Energy level isn't very high, but I am getting around and doing what needs to be done. Much of the time I am sort of in slow motion.
God is still God, and He is in control. Like Abraham, I cannot see around the corner to know what is ahead. But I know that God knows, and that is who counts. He is the one who will bring us up this hill and to the destination He desires.
Thanks to all of you for your prayers and your encouragement during these days. It means more than you know.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Friday, Feb. 12 Morning Update
Just to get the word out...
Day four of intense chemo is a tad shorter. They are hoping to get us out of the hospital by 8:00 PM, when we will head back to my mom's - provided we are not stuck here by the blizzard. Part one just about complete.
This has been intense, even though the side effects have not, and that is a praise. All the meds have done a number on me, so that I had to have two packs of red blood cells yesterday, along with additional potassium and magnesium. I am also learning a little about bone pain (not real bad) and the pain medication to deal with it.
Next week begins "mobilization" where April will give me shots that will cause my bone marrow to expel my stem cells so they can be collected the next week. That is the next step.
Again, thank you all for your prayers. Continue to pray that God will be glorified, adn that my body will respond as He desires to treatment. On a very practical level, pray that the predicted snow for Atlanta today will not hinder us from getting from the hospital to my mom's this evening.
Philippians 4:13, 19!
Day four of intense chemo is a tad shorter. They are hoping to get us out of the hospital by 8:00 PM, when we will head back to my mom's - provided we are not stuck here by the blizzard. Part one just about complete.
This has been intense, even though the side effects have not, and that is a praise. All the meds have done a number on me, so that I had to have two packs of red blood cells yesterday, along with additional potassium and magnesium. I am also learning a little about bone pain (not real bad) and the pain medication to deal with it.
Next week begins "mobilization" where April will give me shots that will cause my bone marrow to expel my stem cells so they can be collected the next week. That is the next step.
Again, thank you all for your prayers. Continue to pray that God will be glorified, adn that my body will respond as He desires to treatment. On a very practical level, pray that the predicted snow for Atlanta today will not hinder us from getting from the hospital to my mom's this evening.
Philippians 4:13, 19!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Growing Seed
Mark 4: 26-29
He also said, "This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man scatters seed on the ground. Night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how. All by itself the soil produces grain—first the stalk, then the head, then the full kernel in the head. As soon as the grain is ripe, he puts the sickle to it, because the harvest has come."
I think about all the places I have been allowed to go, and how often we were limited to simply sowing seed, and not being able to speak openly about the most important thing. Sometimes that has been very difficult, because you want to tell them, and you cannot return to report big numbers to our results-oriented American mindsets. Many do not understand who have never been in such situations. But I love this line about once the seed is sown, “all by itself the soil produces grain.” The seed has to be sown, and once in the heart-ground of the recipient, it begins to sprout and grow. We are not allowed in on the timetable for such. We just have to trust.
Update: (2.10.2010)
Here at Emory, I had my central line installed on Monday, and Monday night began my 96 hour continuous chemo deal. Side effects so far are minimal. I feel pretty good. I am able to read, write on the computer, do a few little doodads for work, go for some walks, and watch a bit of TV from time to time. And of course, there are naps.
The staff here is wonderful. They are pleasant, efficient, helpful and encouraging.
Please continue to lift us up to the Father as we work through this phase and then start the next related to my stem cell transplant. If you are in the neighborhood, we are open to company, if you are open to wearing a mask, are over 16, and not contagious with anything.
He also said, "This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man scatters seed on the ground. Night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how. All by itself the soil produces grain—first the stalk, then the head, then the full kernel in the head. As soon as the grain is ripe, he puts the sickle to it, because the harvest has come."
I think about all the places I have been allowed to go, and how often we were limited to simply sowing seed, and not being able to speak openly about the most important thing. Sometimes that has been very difficult, because you want to tell them, and you cannot return to report big numbers to our results-oriented American mindsets. Many do not understand who have never been in such situations. But I love this line about once the seed is sown, “all by itself the soil produces grain.” The seed has to be sown, and once in the heart-ground of the recipient, it begins to sprout and grow. We are not allowed in on the timetable for such. We just have to trust.
Update: (2.10.2010)
Here at Emory, I had my central line installed on Monday, and Monday night began my 96 hour continuous chemo deal. Side effects so far are minimal. I feel pretty good. I am able to read, write on the computer, do a few little doodads for work, go for some walks, and watch a bit of TV from time to time. And of course, there are naps.
The staff here is wonderful. They are pleasant, efficient, helpful and encouraging.
Please continue to lift us up to the Father as we work through this phase and then start the next related to my stem cell transplant. If you are in the neighborhood, we are open to company, if you are open to wearing a mask, are over 16, and not contagious with anything.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
A Long Climb Up A Big Hill
Psalm 120-136 – The Psalms of Ascent
It seems whatever I am reading regarding pain or struggle the writers often come back to this series of Psalms. These are Psalms of Ascent, sung by Hebrew pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem (elevation 2700 feet) three times per year for feasts (Unleavened Bread, Weeks, Booths–according to MacArthur). Many of these journeys started from as far as Asia Minor and Arabia (121:5a and 5b, respectively) so it was a long trip.
Here is what struck me about these Psalms:
1. They speak of the struggle. Travel to Jerusalem took determination. Most were on foot, and it took days, not hours.
2. They focus on the goal, not the journey: standing in the House of the Lord, being in Jerusalem.
3. They recount the previous blessings, provision and protection of the Lord.
These are all good things to do when faced with a big uphill climb. Whether it be a physical hill, a spiritual or emotional one, focusing on the Lord and his help in the past.
This Stem Cell thing sounds like a long hill to ascend. But I must remember that it is the hill, not the destination. My Jerusalem is long-term remission. Climbing isn’t fun, but being at the top of the mountain is great!
I remember my first trip to Romania. It was dreary every day of that trip in October 1991. Near the end of the trip I was in Brasov with friends. They took us up the mountain, and we took the cable car up to the top of Poiana Brasov. On the way up, we broke through the clouds. We got off the cable car and climbed to the peak. Just beyond the mountains, on the opposite side from the clouds, was the most beautiful view: a green, sun lit valley, complete with a tiny village at the bottom. From our high perch, everything appeared small, but beautiful. But the view was awesome.
Starting tomorrow, I am going for the peak. The climb may be difficult. But God is with me through it all. He knows all of it already. So pray that my focus stays on Him and the goal, not the climb. I am trusting Him to get me all the way to the peak! That is where there will be rejoicing.
It seems whatever I am reading regarding pain or struggle the writers often come back to this series of Psalms. These are Psalms of Ascent, sung by Hebrew pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem (elevation 2700 feet) three times per year for feasts (Unleavened Bread, Weeks, Booths–according to MacArthur). Many of these journeys started from as far as Asia Minor and Arabia (121:5a and 5b, respectively) so it was a long trip.
Here is what struck me about these Psalms:
1. They speak of the struggle. Travel to Jerusalem took determination. Most were on foot, and it took days, not hours.
2. They focus on the goal, not the journey: standing in the House of the Lord, being in Jerusalem.
3. They recount the previous blessings, provision and protection of the Lord.
These are all good things to do when faced with a big uphill climb. Whether it be a physical hill, a spiritual or emotional one, focusing on the Lord and his help in the past.
This Stem Cell thing sounds like a long hill to ascend. But I must remember that it is the hill, not the destination. My Jerusalem is long-term remission. Climbing isn’t fun, but being at the top of the mountain is great!
I remember my first trip to Romania. It was dreary every day of that trip in October 1991. Near the end of the trip I was in Brasov with friends. They took us up the mountain, and we took the cable car up to the top of Poiana Brasov. On the way up, we broke through the clouds. We got off the cable car and climbed to the peak. Just beyond the mountains, on the opposite side from the clouds, was the most beautiful view: a green, sun lit valley, complete with a tiny village at the bottom. From our high perch, everything appeared small, but beautiful. But the view was awesome.
Starting tomorrow, I am going for the peak. The climb may be difficult. But God is with me through it all. He knows all of it already. So pray that my focus stays on Him and the goal, not the climb. I am trusting Him to get me all the way to the peak! That is where there will be rejoicing.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Anticipation
When I was a kid, I went to a frontier dentist who happened to practice in downtown Atlanta. I remember that you never went for an appointment that you didn't wait for hours in the waiting room, and then another hour usually in the chair (he had five or six) before he walked in. Even in the waiting room, you could hear that unmistakable sound of the high speed drill. Often followed by a moan or grown from the patient. By the time the dentist came in, I was so nervous I was about ready to jump out the chair and hit the fire escape!
That is sort of how I have felt the last few weeks. Knowing the Stem Cell Transplant was ahead, and knowing it has the potential to be the roughest part of all the treatment, I found myself getting tired of waiting. Well, the waiting is over. April and I spent several hours at the clinic at Emory yesterday, and I get started with the whole deal on Monday, February 8. I'll get a central line (lines actually) and then they will start me on some intense chemo to kill off as much of the remaining disease as possible. More fun will follow that. April and I were very impressed with the transplant team. They are straightforward, encouraging, helpful, and really seem to know what they are doing.
I'll have another post to put up in a day or two, but for now, please continue to pray that God will be glorified in it all, and that I will be a witness wherever I am. I'll get some new drugs and heavier doses of some of the "older" ones, so please pray that side effects will be as mild as possible while the medications are doing their necessary work.
If you are in the Atlanta area and want to visit, that would be great. The best thing would be to call April and find out if it is a "good" day or not. Right now, this is all new territory. If you need April's number, drop me an email or leave a comment and we shall try to get it to you.
Even if I cannot see it all yet, there is a purpose in this. 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 says,
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.
I take great strength and hope that my God is the "God of all comfort."
Oh, and if you see me Sunday, I might already have a lot less hair than normal. Some of you will respond, "what hair?" I say, the little bit that is left is going to leave me, so I am going to go ahead and get it removed before it starts coming out.
Thanks for your prayers.
That is sort of how I have felt the last few weeks. Knowing the Stem Cell Transplant was ahead, and knowing it has the potential to be the roughest part of all the treatment, I found myself getting tired of waiting. Well, the waiting is over. April and I spent several hours at the clinic at Emory yesterday, and I get started with the whole deal on Monday, February 8. I'll get a central line (lines actually) and then they will start me on some intense chemo to kill off as much of the remaining disease as possible. More fun will follow that. April and I were very impressed with the transplant team. They are straightforward, encouraging, helpful, and really seem to know what they are doing.
I'll have another post to put up in a day or two, but for now, please continue to pray that God will be glorified in it all, and that I will be a witness wherever I am. I'll get some new drugs and heavier doses of some of the "older" ones, so please pray that side effects will be as mild as possible while the medications are doing their necessary work.
If you are in the Atlanta area and want to visit, that would be great. The best thing would be to call April and find out if it is a "good" day or not. Right now, this is all new territory. If you need April's number, drop me an email or leave a comment and we shall try to get it to you.
Even if I cannot see it all yet, there is a purpose in this. 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 says,
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.
I take great strength and hope that my God is the "God of all comfort."
Oh, and if you see me Sunday, I might already have a lot less hair than normal. Some of you will respond, "what hair?" I say, the little bit that is left is going to leave me, so I am going to go ahead and get it removed before it starts coming out.
Thanks for your prayers.
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