In the stillness and the somber of my morning, I opened my chemo pills. I prayed over each pill I took this morning as if it were the Lord’s Supper. Begging that the Lord would just use these little, toxic pills to transform my life. That somehow, His plan was for me to get to this point so He could restore me with this drug, if only temporarily. I have more fight in me and I am not ready to find out that this drug is not enough. I have more memories to make, more feet to rub at night, more hair to brush, more clothes to wash, more goldfish to sweep off the floor, more papers to sign, more meals to clean up, more soccer to watch, more days with friends, more belly-laughs, more bible studies, more lunches with my man, more head rubs, more.

I am thankful for this day. After a dark night of pain and loneliness, God’s goodness meets me just where I need it. In the form of my man knowing I needed to see him this morning before he went to work, some laughs with mom and dad, finally a hairwash, lunch and company from friends and the possibility of seeing an end to my stay here.

Pray with me that this drug, Xeloda, will specifically target the rebellious cells in my body. Search and find them wherever they are and destroy them. Please pray that I have the energy and life in me to continue to live these weeks and fight. And in 3 weeks, may we see a little more of God’s plan revealed. And may my soul be ready and prepared for that plan.

The weather is pitiful here. The clouds and the constant drip mimic my mood. I have been sitting in ICU for 4 days looking out of this dreary window. Out of six beds, only 2 have doors and I am so thankful to be in a room with a door. I had a chest tube placed last week to drain the fluid that is sitting in the lining of my lung. It is still draining quite a bit, so they have not released me yet. In addition, they sprayed some stuff on the pleural lining that will cause it to stick and close up the space that is filling with fluid. There was also a freezing technique that was used to any cancer areas that were seen in the lungs. It is meant only to work in conjunction with chemo, but could give my body a head start at killing the cancer in that area.

My chemo pills arrived today. They were delivered straight to the house I assume in a gold plated box for the price I paid for them. I will begin those drugs tomorrow and start the 1st 3 week cycle and then evaluate how the cancer responds. Thank you so much for your messages, prayers and donations. I have literally been reading messages daily since Wednesday.

The news of more cancer quickly changes your thinking. What is important? Who is important? One of the things that I want to do is to take a trip with each girl. One on one. It will be a great time for making memories and allow me to just pour my love on that one child. I am going to be bold and say I need your help. Alyssa would like to go to the beach. Sit in the sand, read a book no doubt, and listen to the calming orchestra of the waves. Does anyone have access to a property that would allow us to do this easily? I don’t have a specific location, but I do want it appropriate for the two of us. The other girls and I have discussed places they would like to go, but the beach is one that I am willing to reach beyond my comfort zone and ask. You were all chosen to walk beside me at different levels, your friendship is not by coincidence. Thank you for serving my family.

I can only start with this:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither my ways your ways. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:8-9

There is no other truth that I can cling to if I don’t believe this. There is no explanation. No blame I can lay. No coincidences. No justifying. It just doesn’t make sense. And if God’s ways are as meaningless as mine, I would have nothing. No point to go on. Nothing to hinge my hope on. But despite the news that is staring in my face, I know My God has a plan.

In December throughout radiation, I began to collect fluid on my lungs. It is was being watched but we didn’t do more than that. I coughed for a few weeks, but as I returned home the cough went away for a bit. Let’s jump to today. I have been coughing for weeks. An unproductive cough. It is an irritation to the lining that makes my body think it needs to expel something. I have had shortness of breath and find it very hard to carry on a conversation without coughing. This image is from Feb 24th. The white shows the amount of fluid that is compressing the lung. As it is drained, the lung begins to expand again. However, within 5 days, mine filled back up. So today I sit burdened by a cough and unable to take deep breaths. The fluid was sent to pathology at MDA and confirmed there are breast cancer cells in the lung.

This may be confusing to some, but the explanation is that when cancer metastasizes (spreads) it travels through the lymph or blood channels. So the cancer that I have had all along was not killed off with chemo and was given the chance to travel. Maybe it has been in my system for awhile, but October scans revealed no evidence of disease. And today I have a comparison scan that says something different is going on in March.

How I want to make this eloquent and worth reading, but my soul just doesn’t have it in me. So buckle up for the facts. Cancer in the lining of the lungs. A lesion on the liver that was not present 4 months ago. Multiple spots in the spine on the CT scan and areas on the femur and pelvis. It has gone where it wants. It is not contained. It is not medically curable. I have a MRI of my brain coming soon to see if it has spread to there as well.

I am not going to even address how we are doing. Stupid question with a stupid response that wouldn’t even touch the surface. We have a hard and ugly road ahead. I can’t even bring myself to type a fight. A fight suggests that you can win and we know the ultimate outcome here.

Things have been changing daily, but here is where we are now. I will start a chemo pill in a week or so. Side effects unknown, depends on each case. 2 weeks on, 1 week off. Then we scan. If the spots are steady or shrink, we continue. If they grow, we move on to the next drug. This will be the remainder of my life. Keeping the cancer managed.

To immediately address the issue of the fluid, I will be admitted Thursday for a surgical procedure to keep the fluid from returning. On the front end, it will be harder, but should permanently keep it from refilling.

I am sorry to deliver such bad news. I am sorry that I am not in a place to make it sound more hopeful. I know that many of you have been waiting and this is the fastest, easiest way to spread the news.

Do not let hardship and pain drive you from your maker. Do not doubt his love for me and my family. I don’t understand His ways, but I trust them. I will press into Him to reveal this path to me and I ask that join along side us, trusting Him.

I was scheduled to begin a clinical trial with MD Anderson Monday, Feb 16th. Scheduled. A normal, scheduled appointment to sign the consent forms for the trial and a post-radiation ultrasound changed those plans. I have struggled for the last few days if I wanted to share this news. I don’t think that every detail needs to be shared, especially before anything is confirmed, but I also know many of you are constantly lifting me up. And if you don’t have the opportunity to pray over the situation, you certainly miss out on the joy of seeing God’s work.

This is my friend, Vikki. I have many who support me, but she was the winner of this trip to Houston last week. She was by my side to keep me laughing. It started with an ultrasound, but what was found was fluid in my right lung. I was headed to my oncologist next, so we discussed the findings with him. The bottom line is to find why the fluid was there. The first step was a chest x-ray. By 5:15pm I was in the scheduler’s office waiting with a kind-hearted employee who was pulling all the strings to get Humana to approve a CT scan. She stayed til past 5:30, when she was off at 4:30, waiting for the email that let her schedule my scan. I was scanned and we were out of MDA pretty quick considering all that we had done that day. My oncologist called shortly after. He was walking through the airport on his way to Mexico and he took a look at my scan results. These people go above and beyond, don’t they?

Dr V said that there was significant fluid in my lung, on my lung… something. He compared it to a scan I had done in December that also showed fluid and there is definitely more now. I have been coughing for a few weeks and have found myself short of breath, so all this is concerning to us. I am waiting for an appointment to be set for this week where they will drain the fluid and test it for any signs of cancer or any other reason that fluid may be accumulating.

There are of course many reason why there may be fluid, but the reason that scares us most is a real possibility. Please continue to pray over us. Pray that the findings from this test are clear and accurate and give us the information we need to move forward. Pray that there is no cancer found. Our minds are scared, but our hearts are secure in the one we trust.

Psalm 7
1 Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me,
for in you my soul takes refuge;
in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge,
till the storms of destruction pass by...

7 My heart is steadfast, O God,
my heart is steadfast;
I will sing and make music,
Awake, my soul!

These words of David parallel my current journey. We began in late Feb 2014 with a visit to my oncologist. That led immediately to a biopsy, which led to another biopsy, to a CT scan and within 1 week my second diagnosis. My prayer so many times through those early weeks was “be merciful to me”. I didn’t say it as eloquently as David, it was a “please God, no! Please not again. I have done this already.” But in my heart, I was screaming, “BE MERCIFUL.”  It is in Him that my soul has always seeked safety, protection. Hide me here Lord, until the storms has passed. I begged for that storm to just cease, but it had to pass. And through 2014, I was by my Savior’s side until the noise quieted, the clouds parted and the sky showed its beauty again. I knew no other way to cope.

Through the month of December the clouds began to part. I could see the end of the storm like a dark cloud in the distance slowly making its way past me. I waited and watched, counting down the days. And the last day of radiation was I guess when the sky opened up again. The storm had passed.

I have a spoken risk that the cancer can recur again in the next 2 years. The longer I go, the more the risk decreases. And with the unknown of the future, it is hard to really celebrate this victory. I guess that is why it has been weeks before I even announced it here. It has taken a few loving friends to remind me of where we are today. Remind me that there is reason to celebrate, there is reason to give glory to God for bringing me through the storm. My body IS free of cancer. So forgive me for not passing out the party hats. It is so nice to be home again and have much of this treatment behind me, but I just don’t feel the victory like I did in 2010.

Many have asked what my next steps will be. I have completed all my treatments, my cancer is in remission and I am healthy and well. I will continue with close monitoring at MD Anderson for the next year and then slowly decrease visits. But I have also decided to take part in a clinical trial that is researching a vaccine that would enable your own body to kill tumor cells: http://cdmrp.army.mil/bcrp/research_highlights/14mittendorf_highlight.shtml. It will have little side effects on me, but the potential to help me and others fight recurring cancer in the future. Involvement will require treatment at MDA every 3 weeks for the next 12 months. It is inconvenient. Very. But Ethan and I agree that it is an important next step. Maybe that is why I don’t feel like celebrating too much, because I still have a year of treatments coming my way.

Thank you for standing by me. Thank you to those that open this window weekly looking for some news. Thank you to all the t-shirt orders and everyone who proudly Fights4 Me when they wear them. Lucky for you, since treatment is continuing you still have reason to wear your shirts on Mondays. My first treatment for the trial will be Feb. 16th and then every 3 weeks. People say they see the shirts all over Round Rock.

So the treatment goes on and so does the fight. We have come so far and I have to choose to trust again. Trust in the future as much as I trusted in the process. As one of my favorite songs says: “good shepherd of my soul… take my hand and lead me on.”

Awake, my soul, and follow.

My room is quiet. The halls outside seem quiet, but God’s people are all around. A knock on my door and a sweet, older lady walks in. She looks at me and says, “Are you the patient? Girl, you look beautiful.” I have the feeling that she says that to everyone.  I told her today I just felt like getting dressed and even put on some makeup. Again, “Girl, even without that, you are still beautiful.” She was simply a MDA volunteer but she radiated God’s love this morning. This is my first time to sit in this room by myself. It is Sunday, and my heart wants to be where I usually am on Sundays. My heart wants to be hugging my friends and praising my Lord. But instead, God brought this lady to me for encouragement to keeping fighting and never stop raising my hands toward Him like she said she did in the cotton fields many, many years ago.

I was checking into MDA Wednesday morning at 6 am. That morning, I pulled up the Verse of the Day:

“Therefore, I urge you brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God – this is your true and proper worship.” Romans 12:1

That verse washed a sense of peace over me. Reminding me of God’s greater plan, God’s greater love. While I did not choose this journey for myself, the way I embrace it serves as a sacrifice. And offering my body that day seemed very fitting. God is using my journey for a purpose. And he let my healing take place through the sacrifice of this body. Through a friend’s perspective, I began to see the surgery as a gift. It was the answer to eliminating the cancer. It was life-giving.

The surgeon told us that morning that if the chest wall could be closed easily, that there would be no extra tissue needed. But the extent of the cancer was greater than they thought. Because my cancer extended into the skin, it was very important that all diseased skin was removed. The surgeon took her first attempt at removing the disease. She then took samples of the surrounding area to be sent to pathology for traces of cancer cells. It came back showing several areas that were still positive. So to get clear margins, she had to remove more skin. The plastic surgeon then stepped in with the task of closing it. The plan was to take my latissimus muscle in the back and wrap it around under my arm to serve as new tissue and help close the gap, it’s called a L-flap. The surgeon then had to go a step further because he still needed more skin, and that came from a large skin graft on my outer thigh. So, I have three very invasive areas that are trying to heal. All the doctors have said that everything went very well. Healing is going well too. I will have quite the scars to tell my story, but I will have a story to tell. I will be held in the hospital for at least 5 days to make sure the skin graft bonds properly and stays healthy. I have heard rumors that I may get to go home on Monday.

Our next phase is to return on the 17th for a post-op visit that will reveal the full pathology of the removed tissue. The information from that will determine our next steps. It seems very possible that I will undergo 6 weeks of radiation, M-F here at MDA. Initially that seemed an impossible task. But the possibility of my full body being cancer-free is more important than the convenience of staying in Round Rock.

I am so overwhelmed and thankful for how far my story has traveled. But this is not just my story, it is God’s. His hand has been in this every step of the way. He knew the outcome before we ever stepped foot in MDA. He is good and his ways are holy. Thank you for walking beside us.

Surgery is fast approaching. While I have been preparing for that, I have also been preparing for what my family will need while I am recovering. As a mom, I know that I do a lot. My husband is the sole provider for our family, but not the sole worker. Sometimes, we as moms don’t realize how much we do until you are required to tell another everything they will need to know to take care of your family. Here are a few of the things I did this week:

Made a daily schedule including what time to take the kids to school, the exact time to leave the house to pick them up — too early and you are waiting in the dreaded pickup line, but too late and your kids are left wondering if they have been forgotten, what kid has soccer on which day, what time the carpool picks them up, what days they have PE so they have the right shoes on and when to tuck them sweetly in bed. Cleaned the stacks of stuff that had been piling themselves higher and higher in the office, the kitchen, my bedroom, even in the laundry room — Ethan said I was nesting. Stocked up on items my family may run out of during the next few weeks like shampoo, soap and favorite snacks. Baked 6 loaves of banana bread, rolled 20 breakfast tacos, and cut up one pan of granola bars.

When the family was taken care of, I still had planning to do for myself. Items and clothing that I would need for the week of surgery, none of which anybody would actually choose to buy for themself. Dry shampoo since I won’t be able to wash my hair.  A pillow to keep my arm from touching any sensitive area, which will basically be from my chest all the way around to my back. Chapstick and throat lozenges after being sedated for a few hours. Music and a speaker for my 3 days in the hospital. A robe since I can’t imagine that I will be dressing for a week. A few button-down shirts when I do have to be dressed since I won’t be able to lift my arms above my head.  And my smile… I’ve been searching for my smile to bless those around me and hide the turmoil that is really going on inside Ethan and myself. My smile that is going to show my hope and my faith even when my confidence in the future has left.

Fast approaching is the day when I will be changed forever. When a part of me will be gone…forever. My family will be cared for and my to do list done, but there is not much I can do to prepare myself for that day. I long for the day when we all get glorified new bodies. When our pain and sickness, our anger, and our disease are led to rest. When our weary, broken souls finally meet their maker and that smile can be genuine again.

Our MDA trip on Monday finally brought closure to the journey. We have been living in the middle for a while… maybe here, maybe there. MDA is supposed to be great, but my home, my family is here. Experience vs. inconvenience.

After enjoying some great fellowship with our Life Group Sunday night, we again found ourselves on the dark, empty road to Houston. A drive that I used to not mind, but lately I have come to curse. Blessed to have Ethan’s mom live so close to the med center, we woke early Monday to start another day of doctors and decisions. First up, the surgeon. She was ready to do surgery. She was confident that she could get the cancer. She even put a glimmer of hope for radiation. Nice lady, but I walked out of there not convinced that I would carry out the surgery that I had just put on the calendar. My surgeon is as good as her. I can just take the info back to her.

On our way to grab lunch, I called my surgeon. I gave her some details, she agreed and sounded like she could be convinced to go ahead with surgery. But then she threw a major kink in, “You know I am pregnant, right? My last surgery will be Oct 31.” It would be a giant feat to get scheduled and everyone on the same page in the next 2 weeks. Que the slammed door.

Next up, oncologist. He is a brilliant man from Mexico who has 25 years of MDA cancer experience. He speaks with a heavy accent and is the definition of a close-talker, but he is great. He reviewed the scans from last week communicating that we are looking at a mass about 8cm x 5cm x 3cm. Aggressive, rare, but still contained. No evidence of lymph nodes effected. He agreed, surgery. Again, thanks for the 2nd opinion, but I was still planning on surgery at home. And at this point, I even called my surgeon back to see if I could get on her schedule.

Before we head home, Ethan and I decide that seeing the radiation oncologist would be beneficial. So, we go to the desk, we request and appointment and just like that we have one. This man was my modern day Gabriel. He stepped in the room, big yet gentle, and spoke the words that would change my course. The community (outside of MDA) standard is to not radiate an area more than once. But experience and precision of MDA has shown them that it can be done, and in some cases changes your statistics for the better. The surgeon will do her best to get all the active, known cancer out. But there is always the chance of the random cells that are slightly distant from the margins that may come back clear. And that is where radiation picks up the baton and finishes the race. Radiation is like an extension of surgery, able to widen the treatment field. When Austin radiation oncologist took the option of radiation off the table, it was a big disappointment. Like a major player was taken from my game plan. So to be associated with a team that would bring it back, was a giant deciding factor.

Let’s also go here for a moment. Go back to 2010. We are cancer-naive. We are being fed the information we needed to make decisions, but maybe didn’t get the real, big picture back then. There are things from the 2010 pathology that make my doctors in Austin say, “I am not surprised it came back.” And, “Why did they not take all of your lymph nodes?” And, “Why did they not radiate the upper level 3 nodes?” It was not communicated that the cancer had vascular “tentacles” that could easily carry the cancer, causing a recurrence. So, we could go as far to say, if we had more information in 2010, would the picture look different today? And I certainly don’t want to be asking myself that question 3 years from now. I have the opportunity to use some of the best in cancer care. Only a fool would choose convenience over experience. Especially when this experience can extend my life.

Surgery is November 5th at MDA in Houston. There are still appointments to be done, pre-op testing, and after pathology is in from the surgery the next game plan will be put in place.