Quarantine

I should have brought my camera. But I'm not a camera-type person, and so, I didn't remember to. It really was a very unique experience, though, that no one can visualize without seeing it.

When you walk into the room, you feel like you are going into a danger zone or something: blue pads taped to the whole floor; saran wrap on the toilet seat, faucets, phone, remote, bed, chair, etc.; lead shields to keep radiation from entering the adjoining rooms; a sign that reads, "no visitors beyond this point"; red bins with orange "radioactive" signs; warning signs on the door and elsewhere.

So much fanfare for a gray horse-pill that they brought to me in this vault-like container. They had to open a compartment to open another compartment to open yet another compartment to get to the pill.

After swallowing it, they had to take measurements of me and the area all around my room to test the levels of radiation. I didn't feel at all different. I was just sitting there, so benign and innocent, yet so dangerous and infectious.

They said I might experience nausea, dry mouth, and pain at the cancer site, but I didn't experience any of it. I really felt very good. The most traumatic part of the whole thing was being isolated. It was so hard to just have to lay there and read a book and have people cook for me and wait on me and fuss over me. Very traumatic.

I think the hospital staff was a little confused. Everyone kept telling me something different.

"Don't use anything you don't want to leave here."

"You can use it, just wear gloves."

"You don't have to wear gloves as long as no one else will be touching it after you."

Some nurses would use a separate stethoscope from their own, while others would use their own. Some nurses would completely suit up, while others would just wear gloves. Some would come in, announcing that they couldn't get close and hurriedly do what they had to do and leave. Others would come in and stand by me for five minutes. One nurse kept checking my input and output. The rest didn't care how many times I went to the bathroom or ate. One nurse didn't even wear gloves and said he only had to if he was handling bodily fluids.

I don't know what to make of all that. Just relating the facts. No one seemed to know what the protocol was.

I was only in the hospital for 24 hours. My numbers were better than the acceptable level the next day. The guy measuring my levels said, "Your surgeon did a really good job removing all the thyroid. It's a very precise surgery and difficult to get everything without hitting nerves, vocal chords, or parathyroids."

"I know. I had a wonderful surgeon," I said.

This is a theme I keep hearing from the different doctors I see: "Your surgeon did a wonderful job."

So, I am home now. I still have to stay 6 feet away from everyone. Children are most susceptible to the radiation. Allika went to stay with her cousin for a few days. She was having a little trouble remembering to keep her distance. She was very upset that she couldn't hug me. That was hard for me because she was crying and saying that it made her feel bad not to be able to hug me. So, she went and got me a rose. It was her own idea, and she picked it out all by herself, announcing to everyone that her mother had cancer and she couldn't be close to her. She is such a sweetie-pie.

The next thing we will have to do is a body scan on Thursday to see if the iodine only went to the neck or if it went anywhere else. If it went anywhere else, that's where the cancer spread.

I get to have a new experience on Wednesday that I've never had before (hence, the newness of it). I get to take a laxative in preparation for my body scan.

I love new experiences.

Quote

I don't really feel like posting a long update, but I will say that all is well. In fact, things are better than expected. Sometimes, I get tired of talking about me and my health, though.

I promise I will update you soon, but in the meantime, I hope you will allow me to simply share this excerpt from my reading today.

Jesus hath many lovers of His heavenly kingdom, but few bearers of His Cross. He hath many seekers of comfort, but few of tribulation. He findeth many companions of His table, but few of His fasting. All desire to rejoice with Him, few are willing to undergo anything for His sake. Many follow Jesus that they may eat of His loaves, but few that they may drink of the cup of His passion.

Many are astonished at His Miracles, few follow after the shame of His Cross. Many love Jesus so long as no adversities happen to them. Many praise Him and bless Him, so long as they receive any comforts from Him. But if Jesus hide Himself and withdraw from them a little while, they fall either into complaining or into too great dejection of mind.

But they who love Jesus for Jesus' sake, and not for any consolation of their own, bless Him in all tribulation and anguish of heart as in the highest consolation. And if He should never give them consolation, nevertheless they would always praise Him and always give Him thanks.
Thomas A Kempis, The Imitation of Christ

This reminds me of something my husband has said: "Do we love the gift more than we love the giver of the gift?"

My happiness comes from the gifts; my joy comes from knowing and loving the giver of those gifts.

Book List

I love to read. Lately, however, I haven't had time to read anything. Well, except for textbooks.
So, my plan is to read several books while I am quarantined from the rest of humanity.

My book list is as follows:

Henri Nouwen: His Life and Vision by Michael O'Laughlin (It has pictures, too)

When Invisible Children Sing by Dr. Chi Huang

Broken Children, Grown-Up Pain by Paul Hegstrom, Ph.D.

Surrender: The Heart God Controls by Nancy Leigh DeMoss

A Mother's Grief Observed by Rebecca Faber

The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne

The Sacred Romance: Drawing Closer to the Heart of God by Brent Curtis and John Eldredge

Left to Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust by Immaculee Ilibagiza

My husband is also planning on downloading some of my favorite tunes (I feel so cool using that word instead of "songs" or "music") for my listening pleasure. Plus I have rented a few movies to watch, so we should be all set for this here shin dig.

I don't know if I will be able to post while I'm in the hospital because they say radiation comes out of my fingers onto the keys of my computer and will render it unusable for a week. I'm the bionic woman.

Anyway, we will see. It could be a day or a week until I visit with you again, my dear friends. I understand those words will put some of you into major depression and withdrawals, and I apologize for that.

Until next time, squeezes and smooches.

God is in Control

What a great day! Besides running out of gas on the way home from the doctor's office, it has been so good. Even that was a blessing in disguise, but I'll expound more on that later.

Everything is a go. My iodine levels are better than perfect. The doctor was looking for 100 or less, and they are 44. Woo hoo!

The next thing I'm about to tell you is medical terminology that I really don't understand very well, so I am probably over-simplifying it, mis-spelling it, and otherwise, getting it wrong. C'mon people, my degree is in philosophy, not medicine.

Thyroglobin or globulin or goblins are typically, under normal circumstances, supposed to be at 40. We, however, want that number to be really low for the radioactive iodine because we don't want very much thyroid tissue (thyroid tissue equals cancer) to have to absorb the radiation. The less tissue the more absorption of radiation by the tissue, leading to the more killing of the cancer cells.

Well, my number is at 1.4!!! That is such good news. It means that my wonderful, amazing, awesome, God-sent surgeon did a marvelous job of removing most of the cancerous thyroid tissue. I'm telling you people, I couldn't have picked a better doctor to do my surgeries if I had been in control of the situation myself. I even contemplated switching doctors because the one I had was fresh out of training and didn't have as much experience. I believe he had done 13 of these surgeries apart from his internships and college training, which would add several more to that number.

I chose not to switch because I realized that my trust was not in doctors but in the God who worked through the doctors. I could have the most highly trained surgeon on the planet, and, if God so chose, my surgery could be botched. On the other hand, I could have the surgeon with the worst skills, and if it was within God's will and timing, all would go smoothly.

I know this is a hard concept for some to grasp (it was for me once, too), but I believe it with all my heart.

I do believe my doctor will go far in his career and be a great name in his field someday. He has all the makings of a top-notch doctor. I can't believe how humble he is about the spectacular work he did. He said it was just something he liked to do. Not a big deal.

Well, it's a big deal to me. Thanks, Doc!

I love my doctors, and I love my God, who brought them into my life.

Control is an Illusion

Well, tomorrow I go to get my first THS shot. I am not really even sure what it does, but it takes the place of going off my thyroid medication for 3 weeks. I do have to go off my medication for a little while but nothing compared to what it would have been without the shots.

There was a big fiasco over the testing of my iodine levels, and I won't know whether they are low enough or not until tomorrow morning when I go in for the shot. The doctor said that if they weren't low enough, he can increase the THS dosage to make up for it. It makes me kind of nervous wondering whether everything is going to be okay, but I am learning not to fret so much about things.

I had to remind myself of that perspective on Friday at 4:00 PM when I started stressing out about whether I would be able to have my treatment this week or not. I was not the most pleasant patient while trying to get everything straightened out with the receptionist. Bless her heart. I felt really bad after hanging up, but I had taken the time off of work and juggled my schedule all around to prepare for this week, so life just has to go the way I want it to.

Reality check. It doesn't.

Perspective check. It's okay.

Bottom line. If things aren't a go for this week, there is a reason. Life will go on. Whatever happens will happen. If I lose my job for taking too much time off, I was supposed to lose my job for some reason. God is in control.

Why do I get so worked up about things beyond my control? It is a good lesson to learn. I am learning it the hard way.

Incidentally, the lady I was talking to at the doctor's office was so nice. She was so patient and understanding with me. When she called back with some new info, I was apologetic and mentioned that I was just getting a little bit nervous. She understood. I was impressed.

*Sigh* It's nice to have someone get it.

Success

This is something I have on my desk (along with papers and books piled three feet high). Although I don't believe it's an exhaustive list, I like what it says and want to share it with you.

Success
To laugh often and much;
To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;
To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;
To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;
To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition;
To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

If I Could Smack Cancer in the Face...

They say that an iodine deficiency affects your intellectual capabilities, so I am taking that one and running with it. I have already attempted three different posts and can't seem to get the words I write to say what I am thinking. I start out just fine, but once I get going, I start making no sense. At least I have an excuse now.

They also say that thyroid cancer patients report feelings of exhaustion 50% (I think but I could just be making that up due to my iodine deficiency) more than other cancer patients. I can believe that, but maybe I'm just feeling worn out for other reasons.

Like the swollen lymph node on the left side of my neck that hurts every time I laugh. Is it something from the surgery? Is it all the infection that would have otherwise gone to the now non-existent lymph nodes on the right side of my neck? Or is it more cancer? These are some of the pleasant thoughts I think.

I had to do a 24-hour urine collection yesterday at the same time that I was potty-training two-year-old twins. I will spare you some of the more unpleasant details, but it involves a little hat you have to put on the toilet and a little jug you have to put in the refrigerator. The fact that I had to do it during a 10-hour work day was all due to a mis-communication between the lab tech and my nurse. Today, it is nice to be able to go to the bathroom in the simple manner to which I am accustomed. It is interesting to learn all the things we take for granted. So, go enjoy your bathroom today (and hug your kids, too).

I have lost 30 lbs. and still counting. That doesn't get me close to where I need to be, but it gives me a start.

Now that I have unloaded all the negative news on you poor, innocent, unsuspecting readers, I have some good news to share.

I took my friend to the doctor the other day. She had a third of her lung removed one-and-a-half weeks ago due to cancer. They said she would be out of commission for a good 6 weeks, and in the nursing home for at least 3-4 weeks after surgery.

Well, she was in the hospital for one week and the nursing home for four days. The doctor sent her home the day I took her in to see him.

It was such a privilege to be with her when she received the news that she was going home and to watch her float about 6 feet off the ground. She was crying and so excited that she made me start crying, as well.

God is so good. She believes it to be a miracle that she is doing so well so soon. We've certainly all been praying for her.

It's been kind of an interesting set of circumstances surrounding me and her. We attend church together, and she found out she had lung cancer only a short time after I found out that I had cancer. We have kind of been in this thing together. She gives me permission to be real and helps me realize how much worse things could be.

I am so thankful for the blessing she is to me, and just wanted to share the good news about her recovery.