Mike is a Rockstar

Well, if you’re not on Facebook frequently, you missed that RATS (really) did something to the power supply at the day surgery center last Tuesday, knocking out power and canceling all the surgeries. Mine was rescheduled for Friday night in the main OR. The days between were filled with jumping through various hoops to accommodate the main OR requirements, which are quite different from the day surgery center. 

Praise: the stent went in smoothly! This means that the cancer isn’t hugging the ureter too tightly and that part of surgery should be easier than expected.

But then…

Instead of the expected smooth recovery from the stent placement, my body tanked. I had a lot of trouble with nausea and couldn’t keep anything down. Sunday and Monday I was at the hospital for IV fluids and anti-nausea meds. Today I got a prescription for a steroid to help with the nausea as well as my appetite and energy. Now the nausea seems to be reasonably under control, I’m eating and keeping everything down, and I folded some laundry today. The lack of energy (as well as the nausea) has been very discouraging and concerning. And heart breaking since I was planning to spend part of the week at camp with those crazy teen girls I love.

Sunday’s hospital visit was in the ER, so I got a new a CT scan. The scan showed that the tumor has grown - not surprising, since we’re not treating it at the moment.

Praise: it’s still one defined mass. No other masses or fluid were noted on the scan.

Prayer request: that the mass doesn’t mess with any other parts of my body and is easy for the surgeon to remove on Monday. And that he doesn’t see anything that wasn’t visible on the scan.

Surgery is scheduled for 7:00 or 7:30am on Monday. We have to be there are 5:30am… at least traffic will be light… It will last for several hours. Mike may post an update on Monday, but maybe nothing until Tuesday.

Through all of this, Mike has been a rockstar. He’s getting me pills in the middle of the night, keeping me entertained and distracted, and sitting in the hospital for hours watching the IV drip. He even made calls to the doctors for me when I was too weak to do it on my own. He’d taken an extra day off for me to be at camp, and instead used it to cater to my whims. He even goes along with my cheers about being able to do small things like shower or get a few things at the grocery store.

A few months ago, Mike and I did a 21 day fast, giving up TV and all beverages except water and tea for that time. Missing those things acted as a reminder for us to pray for my healing. There were structured activities and Bible readings as part of the program. We haven’t fasted before, and we understand that this is more an act of devotion and purpose than a magic formula. It’s a time to focus on something specific and seek God’s purpose and guidance in that area. 

We were almost done with the fast before we had a direction, but (surprisingly?) we both came to the same conclusion, asking if we are focusing too much on what God can do for us, rather than on how we can honor Him. We should be looking at what He IS bringing to the table instead of what He isn’t. We haven’t quite learned this lesson, I have to admit, because I’ve definitely been more focused on what’s not working than on how God has been moving. Although we’ve been very aware of all the blessings coming our way through many, many of you. Goals.

The “results” of the fast have shaken me a little. My faith is still solid, but there is some questioning in my prayers for myself. I guess I was hoping the fast would shift the way this year has gone medically - which seems to be “what can go wrong, will go wrong.” But that hasn’t changed. Which makes me nervous for my surgery. 

But I remain hopeful that this surgery will be the turning point - successfully removing the whole mass means removing the source of pain, nausea, lack of appetite, lack of energy, etc. I’m hoping that, after I recover, I’ll feel normal again - and that will feel like a million bucks! Please pray for that for me - I could really use the encouragement of feeling back to normal. Maybe pray, too, that if that is not the outcome, that I am ready for that. Right now, the possibility of an unsuccessful surgery seems unbearable.

My cousin, who I asked you to pray for a few weeks ago, is recovering slowly. It will be months. Thank you for those prayers, and feel free to keep them up!

Today, his dad (my actual cousin) posted an update and shared that his prayers in the midst of their crisis have seemed sparse and ineffective, and that, in crisis, it’s OK to lean on all the other praying people who are more coherent and attentive in their prayers. So please be that army for me - truly, I know you already are - and petition our great God on my behalf for this miracle of a successful surgery. Because it really is a miracle at this point in my disease. Will you be diligent about praying for that between now and Monday?

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts!

Much love, 

Mike and Lynne