Your Caps Lock is On
Remember when I introduced myself, I mentioned that I am an eight on the Enneagram. I should have elaborated. I am an 8w9, meaning when I feel overwhelmed with a long to-do list, I procrastinate and do nothing—not very productive. The 8w9 is known as The Bear, and much like a bear, I have been in a bit of a hibernation.
Thank you for bearing with me (see what I did there), checking in, and, most importantly, praying for our family.
Summer of deep thoughts
We made our annual trip to 30A at the end of July. This year, many of our family joined us, making it one of the best trips ever. The weather and water were beautiful. This year, there were more jellyfish than I have ever seen. I was the only one in the group who wasn’t stung. I am assuming it is because of my ninja-like solid swimming skills. Everyone agreed it only stung for a bit, but it did not keep any of our crew out of the water.
We arrived at the beach with an excellent health report. My last update was in June. My scans and tests were terrific; there were no areas of progression, and the lab work was excellent. This should have put me at ease and allowed me to kick back.
I found myself incredibly sad the first few days we arrived. Although the reports were great from the previous visit, there has never been a celebration or ringing of a victory bell. It has been made clear to me, both directly and indirectly, that I am “stable for now." The statistics haven’t changed for me: Stage IV with brain mets, < 10% five-year survival. This is a cruel place to be; I always wait for the other shoe to drop. I feel like we are all holding our breath and waiting for my cancer to stop responding to Tagrisso.
I cried daily on the beach; I would look at Josh and my babies and think about what it would be like for them at the beach the first time without me. This is a pain I hate; it is a physical pain that can take my breath away. It does.
I try to escape it, but much like waves, if I fight it, I will drown; I have learned to ride these waves, and Josh is always on shore to rescue me, to hold me, and remind me to be present.
Fear tries to overshadow faith, but my Father picks me up, like He always has, and whispers, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” Mark 5:34
If you don’t believe the Holy Spirit is real, Oh, my dear friend, He is real, and He is waiting for you.
Let’s back up; before our family beach trip, Josh and I started the summer by chaperoning a few hundred junior high and high school students to Beach Camp. This camp is different from the church camps I grew up going to; there is no need to wear your shoes in the shower at beach camp. We chartered approximately 24 coach buses from Texas to Florida. Once in Florida, those buses were used twice daily, once during recreation time and then again during worship. We were assigned the same bus for the entire week. I was in charge of my six high school girls, alongside my fellow chaperones and their girls, the point being, a lot of girls with a lot going on.
Fast forward to the second to last day. It is morning, and we are about to get off our bus for rec time. As we pull in, our driver turns to me and asks if I could hang back after the bus unloads. I assumed she wanted to discuss some housekeeping items with me. We have had the same driver this whole week. She is pleasant, professional, and punctual; I have not spoken to her before, so this is all I know.
As the bus emptied, she introduced herself to me, and it was now just the two of us. She told me that every time I walked by her this last week, she felt like the Holy Spirit was nudging her, but she couldn’t figure out why or what she would say to me. On this day, she overheard me tell one of the other chaperones that I was a Nurse Practitioner; she said she then understood the nudge. She told me that her older sister, who lives in Dallas, is also a Nurse Practitioner, and she needs to tell me her story.
Her sister had suffered a major cardiac event. She was revived in a parking lot when someone went and grabbed an AED (automated external defibrillator) that was located right inside the building. She was then transferred to a local hospital, where she remained unresponsive in the ICU. Her family were all present and praying for her complete healing. There would be many meetings where they would be told that it was time to take her off the ventilator. This was not something the family was going to do; they continued to rely on their faith. Her sister would go on to receive a tracheostomy and remained unresponsive. Her family was advised more than once that there would be little hope of a meaningful recovery; it was unclear how long her brain was deprived of oxygen during her cardiac event. Still, her family remained faithful and prayed over her sister for complete healing. She was eventually transferred for more long-term care. One day, during routine daily care, her sister tried to speak; she was trying to say, “Ouch.”
Fast forward again, she was transferred to a rehabilitation facility where she would go on to make a complete recovery.
By this time, tears were streaming down my face. She had no idea my story; I hadn’t shared it with anyone on the bus. She said, I am not entirely sure why, but God told me I needed to tell you this story. I then told her my story, every single detail. With tears now streaming down her face, she reached to touch me and said, “God has healed you.” I sat there on that bus with my new friend, overwhelmed with the presence of the Holy Spirit. We were no longer alone on that bus.
God was talking to me in all caps.
Her gentle touch brought back a warm feeling I knew before: The Holy Spirit was with me. How comforting and familiar is the embrace of our Father.
Even in our deepest despair, God cares. When I waiver between faith and fear, you are closest to me.
Out of Hibernation
I’m here! I have just completed another round of lab work that looks good (thank you, Jesus). I also met with my medical oncologist to review my latest chest CT, which was last Friday (9/6/2024).
I am beyond humbled and in awe of my God to report that there are no areas of progression.
God is healing me in real-time.
I will continue my treatment. I will have a brain MRI at the end of this month; I am faithfully expecting a good report.
I have mentioned several times that the EGFR Lung Cancer World is anything but stagnant. I have been so fortunate to have three very influential women in my life who are paving the way, and I can’t wait to tell you more about these amazing women and how they are changing the face of Lung Cancer. These are women like me whose lives have been changed by Lung Cancer. Together, they have created The Young Lung Cancer Initiative. There is so much I want to share; this will need to be an entire post, which I am already working on. In the meantime, click on the link above and get to know a little bit about my friends. They have done a lot of hand-holding with me; I often promise to get it together soon, and they constantly respond to me with grace; thank you, God, for bringing these women into my life.
I have also had a few of you ask about my Exhale Hope Shirt; you don’t know how much that means to me. Not only does this show you loving and supporting someone like me, but the funds go to research and support young adults diagnosed with lung cancer under the age of fifty. Feel free to grab a shirt for yourself, then send me a selfie!
Thank you for taking the time to read this. I wish I could express what it feels like when someone tells me they are praying for me. What a gift I have been given to be surrounded by God’s grace and His people. I certainly don’t have all the answers; I am taking it one moment at a time and trying desperately to be present and soak up this beautiful life that God has blessed me with. Back-to-school time has always been a rough one for me. Don’t get me wrong; having an empty house for a few hours during the day is nice. But back to school is a physical timestamp of how quickly the years pass. Cancer or no cancer, I know I am not alone in the reflection that there will never be enough time to love my children.
Back to school.
Left to right: Rush 8th, Rhet Thomas 5th, Ridge 3rd, and Ryan Kate PreK4.
