Surviving Life's Curves

Today, January 29, I received in the mail a card from my good friends Elton and Audrey from the church. It was such a neat card. First, it fits with my series I am bringing at the church dealing with Surviving Life's Curves. Also, it fits well with the theme of this web site. Maybe you noticed the straight lines coming off the bridge and then immediately going into the curves. (Scroll down and I will talk about straight lines and curves and bends in the road). On the top of the site represents making a straight line to the doctor. Do you see the Stethoscope on the far right of the road?

Koyce and I paid a visit to The Stanford Medical Center today to sign some papers and firm up some dates. Beginning next week, I get a catheter put in and placed, take a class on self-injection, take another class on "teaching for transplant," take chemotherapy called Cytoxan, get my mask and begin the shots of Neupogen and Antibiotics. We also learned that I will be part of a Research Study and that I will be monitored there annually for the rest of my life. It was a tough session and before we were through, they had Koyce getting a bit weapy. Then the nurse said, "Look, if I don't scare you, I am not really doing my job." Well, today, she was doing her job!

As to our schedule, the second week of February is a stay at home week just taking Nepogen and wearing the mask, thus no preaching for a few weeks. On the 16th I begin taking Apheresis that takes place at Stanford. On about March 17, I enter the hospital with the transplant beginning on the 23rd and I will remain in the hospital there for 2-3 weeks. Following this, I stay in the safe zone over there where I can be close to the hospital for daily check ups that will probably run about another two weeks. After this, I can return home and start the process of recovering. I will keep you updated along this part of the journey.

When I returned home from Stanford today, there was a letter from Kaiser that said, "No clear evidence of cancer on the PET scan." So, I am clean today but we are going ahead with the process in order to keep the cancer from coming back. There is only a 40% chance that the cancer will not come back if I stop the process at this point. We desire better odds than that so we signed unto the process today.

Visited my Oncologist Today

Here I am with Dr. Sattar who released me to The Stanford Medical Center today, January 27, and I will not see him again until sometime in May or June. He looked over all my tests and told me that everything looked normal--the heart which they emailed me from Stanford and told me that I had a lovely heart--the bone marrow test, the respiratory system and the PET scan. In fact, there was no evidence from the PET scan of any cancer! The two cycles of chemo has apparently killed it at this point. I could walk away from it all right now, but the chances of the cancer not returning are about 40%. But we want better odds than that and our hope is that the Stem Cell Transplant will rid us of this disease. On Thursday of this week, we will be at Stanford and then a busy week will follow over there beginning on February 2.

A Break at Christmas

Because we had a three week break from chemotherapy, our thought was to go to Oregon and see our kids and then go up to our cabin at Black Butte Ranch. However, the weather was not conducive to such a trip so we decided to take our Korean Kids and spend a couple of days and nights in the city. The picture above is at Neiman Marcus across from Union Square.

On Christmas Day, we left our hotel and drove down the crooked street and ended up of all places at The Stinking Rose, a restaurant in the Italian district when the place reaks with garlic.

The next day we went to Pier 39 and walked on the Golden Gate Bridge. Then we topped off the day by a visit to Ghiradellis for ice cream.

It was a great break for the treatment and we had a good time. Fortunately, we were able to spend Thanksgiving a month earlier with our kids and grandkids at Shasta City, just above Redding.

Getting to Know us

OUR CHILDREN

As to our children, we have two sons. Scott is our first born who graduated from Western Baptist College, now Corban College, in Salem Oregon. Upon finishing his Master’s degree at the University of Portland, he served for fifteen years as a Principal for a Christian school. In July of 2008, the Willamette Community Church of Albany, Oregon called him to become their senior pastor. Scott married Angela Patten and they have three children, Adam, Madison and Ashley.

Our son Mike also graduated from Western and received his degree in Math. Mike holds a Master’s degree from Oregon State University and has been a professor of Math at Corban College in Salem, Oregon for the past fifteen years. He married Katie Parker and they have two children, Morgan and Randall. Katie works for the Albany Christian school where Scott was the Principal and they attend the church where Scott pastors.

In the picture below, Scott is on the right side of the stairs with his family and Mike is on the left with his.

OUR KOREAN CHILDREN

In addition, we have two Korean children living with us in California. About two years ago, we met Jun (pronounced June) at the San Francisco airport who had arrived in the Bay Area to attend Berean Christian High School and to live with at our home. Both she and her parents wanted her to be in a Christian school and to find a place
where she could stay. In conversation with Dr. John Song, whom we had met about ten years earlier, he told them that he knew of the perfect school and the perfect place for her to stay. A semester later her brother Jack arrived to start his freshman year at Berean. Then this past fall, David Park, a fifth grader, was accepted at the Walnut Creek Christian Academy, the school of First Baptist Church, and he moved into our household as well.

OUR SITUATION WITH CANCER

At the moment I have had my Hodgkin’s Lymphoma Cancer reoccur and if you want to follow what is happening with this, browse around where you can have the latest information on where we are with respect to coming upon our curve in the road. Also, you can find some of our thoughts on this and what we are thinking at the present time. Thanks for checking in on us and we trust that you will be enjoy and be encouraged with this site.

A Week of Tests

January 19-23

This week I took another CAT, PET and Bone Marrow test. The following Sunday I asked the people at church how many had ever had a Cat Scan. Many of them had not. So I told them that I could give them a scan right there. I put on the screen a picture of a cat with its eyes going back and forth and told them to stare at the cat for 10 seconds. Then following this picture a sign came up that said "Thank you." Then it said, "Your cat scan is now complete." In the next picture was a picture of a cat just laughing its fool head off! It got a laught anyhow. Former Pastor Ralph Canfield from Washington state wrote me and said, "How did you know that I needed a cat scan?" I guess he can now tell his doctor that he got the test and he won't have to pay any co-pay! Then he said he was praying for me and gave me a quote from Dr. R.T. Ketcham who said, "We have a Heavenly Father who is too wise ever to make a mistake, and too good ever to be unkind." A great quote.

The most interesting test was the bone marrow test. Actually, I had a sense of anxiety this week when I went in for the test. You see, I had one of these tests about 3 years ago. It was not fun. The doctor told me that what they were going to do was to go in through my back side where I sit and he was going to take his needle and go down until they hit bone and then break some of it off and bring the broken piece back out. He said that it was painful and I needed to just lie on my stomach and hold on to the bars in front of me. I said, “Aren’t you going to use an anesthetic?” He said, “Nope, Otherwise I can’t feel when I hit the bone but the good news is, it only lasts for 7 seconds.” And I have to tell you, that I think that was the longest 7 seconds I have ever experienced. So, when I went in this time, the woman who was going to torture me asked how I was doing. I said, “I am a little apprehensive about this” and she asked, “Why?” I told her about my last experience and told her that I have told a number of my friends about this and each one of them has told 10 other people how painful this was. At this she said, “There will be no pain. I use an anesthetic and this will be nothing like what you experienced before. And sure enough, the whole procedure was a piece of cake. There was a night and day difference betwen the two. And when it was over, She said, “Will you now go back and tell your friends that it was really nothing?” And I said, “I will tell my whole church about it and I am sure that they will tell 10 others that it was nothing to be anxious about.” So I told the church the following Sunday and used this as an illustration to them that the lesson I learned from this was—There are times we are anxious about what we are going to go through but often when we come out the other end, it was anything to worry about.

Also, I received an email on Sunday morning from Ed Biser in the midwest and it fit what I was speaking about from Psalm 16. Listen to what the poem said. It was entitled, A Bend in the Road. A Bend In The Road:

Each day we have trials or triumphs,
Have joy or burdens to bear.
Whether days are stressful or calm
I know God's love is there.

I won't let dark clouds surround me,
I'll find a brighter day.
I'll leave my doubts behind me as,
I journey on my way.


I know that He does lead me in,
The pathway I may take.
Because I've come to Him in prayer,
In decisions I must make.

Now there’s a bend in the road but,
God's presence will remain.
He'll help me get where I belong,
And make me glad I came.

Cancer's Unexpected Blessings

When you enter the Valley of the Shadow of Death, things change.
Tony Snow posted 7/20/2007 02:30PM in Christianity Today.

Commentator and broadcaster Tony Snow announced that he had colon cancer in 2005. Following surgery and chemo-therapy, Snow joined the Bush administration in April 2006 as press secretary. Unfortunately, on March 23 Snow, 51, a husband and father of three, announced that the cancer had recurred, with tumors found in his abdomen—leading to surgery in April, followed by more chemotherapy. Snow went back to work in the White House Briefing Room on May 30, but resigned August 31. CT asked Snow what spiritual lessons he has been learning through the ordeal.

Blessings arrive in unexpected packages—in my case, cancer. Those of us with potentially fatal diseases—and there are millions in America today—find ourselves in the odd position of coping with our mortality while trying to fathom God’s will. Although it would be the height of presumption to declare with confidence What It All Means, Scripture provides powerful hints and consolations.

The first is that we shouldn’t spend too much time trying to answer the why questions: Why me? Why must people suffer? Why can’t someone else get sick? We can’t answer such things, and the questions themselves often are designed more to express our anguish than to solicit an answer.

I don’t know why I have cancer, and I don’t much care. It is what it is—a plain and indisputable fact. Yet even while staring into a mirror darkly, great and stunning truths begin to take shape. Our maladies define a central feature of our existence: We are fallen. We are imperfect. Our bodies give out.

But despite this—because of it—God offers the possibility of salvation and grace. We don’t know how the narrative of our lives will end, but we get to choose how to use the interval between now and the moment we meet our Creator face-to-face.

Second, we need to get past the anxiety. The mere thought of dying can send adrenaline flooding through your system. A dizzy, unfocused panic seizes you. Your heart thumps; your head swims. You think of nothingness and swoon. You fear partings; you worry about the impact on family and friends. You fidget and get nowhere.

To regain footing, remember that we were born not into death, but into life—and that the journey continues after we have finished our days on this earth. We accept this on faith, but that faith is nourished by a conviction that stirs even within many nonbelieving hearts—an intuition that the gift of life, once given, cannot be taken away. Those who have been stricken enjoy the special privilege of being able to fight with their might, main, and faith to live—fully, richly, exuberantly—no matter how their days may be numbered.

Third, we can open our eyes and hearts. God relishes surprise. We want lives of simple, predictable ease—smooth, even trails as far as the eye can see—but God likes to go off-road. He provokes us with twists and turns. He places us in predicaments that seem to defy our endurance and comprehension—and yet don’t. By his love and grace, we persevere. The challenges that make our hearts leap and stomachs churn invariably strengthen our faith and grant measures of wisdom and joy we would not experience otherwise.

What Kind of Transplant will this be?

The type of Transplant is called Autologous where David serves as his own donor. What is involved is that his immature hematopoietic (blood) cells, often called stem cells, are collected and stored before he can proceed to the transplant. Once the cells are collected and stored, he will receive a high dose chemotherapy. The purpose of this regimen is to eliminate cancer cells. Following this, David’s cells will be infused and this is his transplant. Then it will take about fourteen days for the cells to begin to produce new mature blood cells. As he begins to make new blood cells, his body will heal and he will begin to feel better. Approximately 30 days following the transplant, if all is going well, David will be able to return home. Recovery from an autologous transplant can take up to six months or more. His hair will begin to regrow in about three months. His taste buds will return to normal in about four months but his energy will remain low for a long period of time. Sounds like fun, uh?