(De)Evolution of Doubt

We have both struggled with believing the goodness of God in the midst of all that has occured, and I have faced questions that have surely vexed mankind since Eve agonized over why Cain killed Abel: if God is all-powerful, all-knowing, and completely good, then why did He allow Heather to have this disease?  Furthermore, though the bible makes it clear that He is not the author of sin and its consequences, how can He not ultimately be culpable when He gives the cosmic nod to what does and does not come to pass in His universe? 

The Incredulity of Saint Thomas by Caravaggio

That has been the single most problem I've struggled with, and I'm sure it's a product of anger, grief, and the tendency for humans to find someone to blame for our problems.  Blaming gives us somthing tangible to project our anger against, and also gives us meaning to our sufferings: if I can identiful person "X" as the root cause of my circumstances, I do not have to face the fatalism of "just because".  At any rate, last night we were told (via email) for the millionth time to remember the promises of Romans 8:28:

"And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose."

or, as I tend to paraphrase it:

"All things work together for good for them who love the Lord."

Aside from "trust God", "I'm (we're) praying for you" and "Jesus is big enough to handle anything", this is one of the most common pieces of advice we are offered to ease our discomfort.  Unfortunately, what the head knows and what the heart feels is often mutually exclusive, and such has been my experience.  Tiny little platitudes do little to assuage the seething anger I feel when I imagine a life without my wife by my side, and our children without their mother.  But for some reason, last night the well-worn Romans verse struck a different chord with me, and I told Heather- "What if this is the best thing for us?  I mean, what if God thinks this is what's best for us right now?" 

What if I lived as if I truly believed that?  If this is the best, then perhaps we should be thankful we haven't experienced anything other than what our Father (lots of childhood issues with that concept, by the way) has for us.  Perhaps "the worst" is far worse than we'll ever know, because He has kept us from it.

And that, my friends, is the de-evolution of doubt.  We shall see where it leads.   

The Plot Thickens...

The past few months have been a whirlwind of doctors appointments, unscheduled visits to the ER, and several more surgeries (11 total since Heather was diagnosed).  She completed her radiation treatment earlier this year, and attempted to reconstruct from her bilateral mastectomy, but her body did NOT like the hardware.
  It has been difficult to maintain this blog due to several factors- my inability (or unwillingness) to tap into the perspective it takes for me to write posts of substance, the general length of posts as opposed to Facebook, which I can shoot off much quicker, and my full-time work and school schedule. 
Now that it is summer, and things have changed yet again, though not for the better, I find myself revisiting this blog again.  I figure I can keep it up until Heather or I go on to glory, which I pray is many years from now.
If you haven't heard, Heather was diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer as of last month when they found and biopsied four large tumors on her liver.  She was initially admitted for an infection and ended up with renal failure, which led to a CT scan, where they inadvertently found the tumors.  Surprise!!!  Heather's doctor told us that it was likely she was already a Stage 4 patient when she was first diagnosed in January 2013, they just couldn't do the necessary scans to find out until April, as she was pregnant with Josh at the time.  Regardless, Josh is such a happy and healthy baby, we love him so much! 
Blessings to all,
Joe

Happiness is Chemo in Your Rearview Mirror

Actually, happiness is a state of mind (or is it "frame of"?), or so I'm told.  Regardless, happiness hasn't been part of our vocabulary for several weeks now, as Heather has battered her way through weekly chemo treatments of Taxol that have left her in chronic pain and nausea; I initially typed that Heather had "battled her way through weekly chemo" but "battered" is much more appropriate for what she went through.
Chemo drugs work by targeting and killing off rapidly reproducing cells, which is the hallmark of how cancer grows.  Not all rapid cell growth is bad for your body- hair follicles, mouth, and intestinal lining are all parts of our bodies that regenerate quickly, unfortunately this means that those cells are also targeted by chemo as well which is why chemo patients often lose their hair, have nausea and diarrhea, and mouth sores.  In the case of Taxol, the active ingredient is derived from the bark of the Pacific Yew tree, and is cytotoxic, which means it does exactly what it sound like it does.  Essentially Taxol is poisonous to the body- yet the user ingests just enough of it not to kill them, but to kill the cancer.  For those few military history buffs that may remember this from Vietnam (or all you old people), the principle is the medical equivalent of "destroying the village to save it".  Just following orders, sir.

Regular doses of poison coupled with a full time household and all the responsibilities that come along with it have made the past couple months VERY stressful.  Through no fault of her own, Heather has been on bedrest for the majority of her chemo, which makes caring for 4 small children fairly difficult.  I have tried to work when I can but with limited help on the homefront I've tried to split my responsibilities the best I've been able to but never seem to get anything fruitful done.  I put it to one of my co-workers this way:

"I have felt that I've done just enough to do poorly at all of them."

Nonetheless, we've reached the end (hopefully) of Heather's chemo treatments and have passed from death into light (hopefully).  I don't like speaking in absolutes when it comes to good news, so I choose to remain hopeful.  Hopefully.  Next on the treatment plan is radiation five days a week for five weeks, starting in the near future.  Each session should only be a 1/2 hour at most and side effects are said to be minimal, so here's hoping they actually are.  Heather can use the rest and her body can use time to heal up from chemo.  She continues to be an inspiration to me, at least when I'm not being a stubborn mule (to put it kindly).  There are too many times I've been quick to criticize and doubt when I should have supported and loved.  I need to work on that for Heather, for the kids, for no other reason than if I can't ease her pain, I surely can see to it that she'll never walk alone again.      



From One Marine to Another

I'm no cancer survivor expert, but I offered my experiences to a friend of mine with whom I served with in the Marines, he recently wrote me after his fiancee was diagnosed with cancer.  Maybe this will be a small bit of help to someone out there.

"Bummer for sure- we are still in treatment but things are looking better for us. The number 1 rule is to be FLEXIBLE! There are so many factors to consider like treatment, lab work, tests, paperwork, ect that it is very unlikely that you will be able to plan out the next few months. Take it day by day, and sometimes hour by hour. Your fiancee may feel good in the a.m. and bad in the p.m. or vice versa, just stay flexible and know that it will get better eventually. Also, get used to hospital visits and long waits, it'll happen. Another thing I learned is to take any news about her condition from the docs with a grain of salt as it may be subject to change or may be wrong altogether. We have received updates on Heathers condition that have changed several times as other tests are done and new information is reviewed. So yeah, stay flexible and don't expect concrete answers, there's always another test to do.  Oh yeah, when all is said and done, how do you want to remember how you handled the stress and experience of having cancer? You guys will still fight and argue some, that's normal, but still try to remember that when times are tough and stress is high. Let me know how things go."

When we found out that Heather had cancer, I knew that my art would have a place somewhere in the emotional storm that we found ourselves awash in, I just didn't know when, where, or how it would come to pass. Last night everything seemed so right- Heather, Josh, and I were in bed and there was some really amazing and clean window light that gave a sense of depth to these photos. I haven't felt like shooting much with my DSLR as of late and my creativity has been sapped by an overall lack of purpose for my art.  These photos started out as a fun little snapshot session, but after Heather and Josh went to sleep, I couldn't turn off my mind, and this is the result.  Much of my favorite art photos I've taken are a melding of spontaneity and good composition.  I thank God for my gift, and for my family.
P.S.- If you want to view it full size just click on it.

Good News Today

We've been anxiously awaiting the results from Heathers bone biopsy last week as our future hung on by a infinitesimal thread- Stage IV or remission?  After several months of guessing games, I think we've come to the point where we try to rest in the moment as much as possible.  We made it through last week fairly well and had an almost normal few days, which was great though yesterday I was struck by an immense wave of sadness because I knew that the biopsy results would be back within the next few days and the possibility of Heather being terminal was very real.  I was morose, smiling politely at customers, but I'm willing to bet that my eyes betrayed what my forced smile was trying to cover up.  Talking to Heather later in the evening seemed to help and I was soon in manageable state of mind- enough so to do some yardwork.  
It's odd, but when the sun is shining, steak is on the grill, and your wife is happy, dark days fade away- and yet, they are never really gone, just overpowered by the happiness of the moment.  Anyway, today the clouds parted and we got some good news- the biopsy came back negative for cancer so as of 5/14/2012 Heather is in remission.  After bouts of excitment and unrestrained relief, we both know that it's time to buckle down and carry on with the mission- chemotherapy weekly for 12 weeks, both Taxol and Herceptin, then Herceptin every three weeks for a year.  Heather is a tough girl- she stood up to cancer and refused to let it take her baby, and her body bears the beautiful scars of a battle well fought.  We've fallen many times within the last few months, but the love and support of our family (yes, all of you who read this) has sustained us in our lowest moments.  Life goes on and we'll take it as it comes.  What else is there to do, but to live?   

Bone Biopsy Today

A quick update:
After two previous attempts, it looks like today will be the day of great success, as the bone specialist here at FMH will be performing a biopsy on Heathers spine.  The initial biopsy attempt was in Anchorage, the second was up here with a doctor that felt that waiting a few extra days would allow the current doctor to exercise his specialty and get the best results. 
Among the false starts and delays there has been a bit of good news- Dr. Cox reviewed an old CT scan from 2006 and found that the spot on her sacrum which was thought to be cancer was actually present in 2006, which leaves just one fire still burning, that in her spine.  Provided all goes well today, we should get the results back in a week or so, generally the results come back much sooner as the pathologist tests the specimen here in town, but they may have to send it down to Seattle instead.  Joshua is doing well but we both miss him very much.  He was scheduled to be transferred to FMH this week but still has some developing to do, his breathing is being supplemented with an oxygen flow of 6 liters and he should be down to 3 liters before he comes home to Fairbanks.  It pains me to leave him in Anchorage, as the Lower 48 air can't be good for him, but soon enough he'll be back in God's country ;)  Keep your heads up!