Uncertainties

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. Proverbs 3:5

Panic, confusion, despair...these things I felt all of this week as the doctor's collaborated on trying to figure out what to do with me. I am an unusual case...cancer came back but in the collarbone region. How is that possible? What do we do? Surgery? Radiation? Chemotherapy? How about all of the above?
My doctor called with my scan results and mentioned there are two areas in my neck that need to be annihilated. I was so ecstatic to hear that it had not spread to a distant area in my body, in particular my organs. However, we only had so much time before that would occur. The doctor told me he needed to figure out some things then would get back to me the very next day.
I was so excited to know it was probably going to be an easy fix, surgery remove the nodes then a little bit of radiation and chemo. Whew! Easy piece of cake!
Well I was wrong...very wrong.
A couple of days later I was at lunch with a friend when my phone rang a couple of times. The first time it was my doctors' nurse scheduling for me to come in to see him the next day. I told her that I could not come in because I had my son, I do not take my son to doctors appointments. She said in a harsh tone, "We are trying to save your life, please figure out something quick." My heart pounded...the panic started to creep in. I said, "Ok well I cannot come in at that time, please figure out another time that afternoon." She hung up and later called me with an evening appointment.
My friend meanwhile was talking to me about looking into other treatment facilities, yet my mind was hung up on what the nurse had said, "We are trying to save your life." Very scary.
My phone rang again it was the chemotherapy lounge nurse, "Hi we have you down for this Friday at 1:30 for your first infusion." I was stumped, what about surgery? Radiation? "Uh OK." I said confused. I got off the phone and looked at my friend dumbfounded, "What the heck is going on." She encouraged me to go home and call my doctor and then insisted I call this other facility. I suddenly just lost it, as I put my tip on the table I said to her and to myself, "You know all I wanted was a nice lunch not cancer talk." I got up and walked out of the restaurant and went to the elevators to get me to the parking garage. My friend came after me and asked, "Are you OK?" I was crying by this point and said, "No I am not, you at least get to go home to your family and not worry about things like this...I just want a day off!" I was frustrated and of course my hormones were being shut off again so it did not help.
I remember sitting outside with her crying helplessly, something was wrong, my doctor was going to tell me something bad. I just knew it.
As I drove home my phone rang and it was another doctor's office scheduling me for a second opinion. Before I took the call I noticed I was behing a truck that said, "Jesus is the reason for the season." To me that was a sign...always is. The phone rang and the assistant to one of the main oncologists from a local university was on the other end. She had an appointment for me right before I was to drive up to see my oncologist. It is amazing how things work out.
I got home and called my oncologist still quite confused about why I was not being offered surgery and radiation. If we were only going the chemo route that scared me. That means I only have so many more options left in this battle.
My doctor answered and said, "We are going to try to shrink down the areas first, then radiation." I did not like what I was hearing...leave the cancer in my body? Doesn't that mean it can spread while trying to treat it...what if the medicine does not work? I was scared and mad.
"What about surgery?" I asked him...he brushed it off with, "Too many spots for that we have to start treatment now."
We got off the phone and I sat there wondering why I was not offered surgery first. I decided to call a head and neck surgeon to see what their opinion might be.
I got through to a head and neck surgeon in fact he was head of the department and knows my husband. He had looked at my scan and looked at my report and his answer was, "We can operate, I can have you in the OR next week but I think you have a larger problem at hand here." I listened to him slowly starting to feel fear creep in, "You have several lymph nodes involved not just two and you have to get medicine into your system...surgery would just prolong it." So he could operate, it would be a tough operation but I figured out surgery is not always the answer to these problems.
I thanked him for his time and sat down stumped, I am terminal? Is that what I am? How can that be when it is not in an organ but in a place that can be taken out of.
My husband called me next, "Honey is this a bad situation" I asked him.
He paused and said, "You are in a tough spot, if the medicine does not work then yes it is not good." I started to cry. I asked him, "Would you consider  me terminal?" He calmed me down and said, "No you are not terminal we just need to shrink those areas down." I felt better but still I did not trust these meds...they did not work before how are they going to work again. I felt like maybe the other doctor, the second opinion would be able to help us or give us a better solution.

The next day we went to our first doctor's visit for the second opinion. I was quite nervous for i had heard this doctor is tough and is a woman who is quite direct. I think the women in the medical field can be more tough than the men.
We got called in and waited until she finally came into the room. She was a lovely tall woman who had a certain sharpness about her. She went over my report and then asked, "Has anyone called you stage iv yet? " I looked at her stumped, "Uh No." She made a "Hmmm" noise as she looked at my paperwork. I told her, "My doctor still considers me early and that this is a regional recurrence. He would like to treat with chemo first." She stopped and kinda looked at me funny and said, "Well we shall see about that." She examined me and then said, "I would want a CT Scan done on you although you have already had a scan I am sure the CT will bring up cancer in areas the PET did not show." I froze in fear, "What?" I asked and looked at my husband...he knew the lingo better than me.
"I thought the PET was a good scan." I said. She nodded and said, "It is but the CT will get an even closer look at your organs and more than likely this has spread to those areas and is not showing up on the PET." She then said, "You are considered non-responsive to the meds, you had the toughest meds and it came back less than six months after treatment. You are very resistant and to try another chemo does not give you a good chance it will get the cells." I felt hopeless.
"I would remove your ovaries and then put you on a anti hormone drug." She then looked up from her computer and said, "Why put yourself through the chemo again...it is tough to endure." I did not argue with her and wondered if she was right. I was going to remove my ovaries anyhow.
"You have a nasty cancer and it is aggressive, you have to make the right choice." She then said she was going to call my doctor to talk with him about the treatment plan. We waited..I looked at my husband, "I thought the PET scan was good." He looked irritated, "It is...don't worry about it if something were there it would show up."
The doctor knew my oncologist well, they had worked together for many years...she came back into the room, "Well I spoke with Jon and he is certain the treatment plan is the way to go...I think that is fine." I was confused, she had changed her tune. She sat down, "Early stage situations like yours are tough because we have to figure out the right way." She was all of a sudden calling me early stage. She looked at me, "Just know the meds he is giving you I would not offer, one in particular the FDA is no longer wanting to be used in breast cancer so there is a risk." I nodded. We wrapped up our session with her and walked out of the office. I was confused, did God want me to go with her advice or was my doctor the better option? As we were walking into the lobby a wooden sign hung up on the way said, "Faith" right next to the exit door. It was a sign I needed to use my faith. Trust God. Do not lean on my own understanding.
The drive up was rainy and we were picking apart what the doctor said. It was good information and I knew what we needed to do. As we drove up I kept seeing crosses on the back of cars and fish stickers. One car said "Fumigation Necessary!" With a cross next to it. I thought, "well if that is not a sign what is?" I was confused as to what to do but I need to allow God to control the situation.
We saw my doctor and he is hoping to shrink the tumors down, he is using meds that the FDA recently pulled but he believes in them so much he is willing to use them on me.
"If we can get the tumors down then we can radiate them." He said to me. He has hope...I need to follow that hope.
"You will need to have your ovaries removed once we are finished." He confirmed. I was OK with that. If I were to have another baby it would kill me. It would not be fair to my husband or my son.
We left feeling more hopeful although I was hesitant about the meds...however, got to lean not on my understanding but God's.
The next day we drove up to receive my first chemo treatment. I was not scared or fearful...I felt calm. I put my emotions and uncertainties on God. We pulled up to the parking lot and as we got out I started to feel a bit of dread, is this the right thing to do? I  got out of the car looked at the car next to me and in the side passenger window hung a red cross. It was right in front of my line of vision. It is a sign, this is what I need to do.
The last part of this story happens in the lounge. We are waiting to be let in for my treatment. I see a stack of local newspapers to read. I pick one up and on the front cover is a photo of the WWII plane that dropped the bombs in Japan. Those bombs saved my grandfather's life. He was on his way to the mainland after having fought on the island of Okinawa for several weeks. I was dumbfounded, I often compare my fight with my grandfather's fight. I even told my husband a couple of weeks prior that we need the bombs that saved my grandfather's life to drop for my life to be saved, meaning the same situation to occur...my grandfather was writing out his will as the boats headed to the mainland Japan. He knew if they had to fight the battle there he did not have a chance. The bombs dropped and he was saved. In fact, my grandmother, his wife, was part of the project that created those bombs. Now here I am staring at a story about the plane that dropped those bombs. It was an odd coincidence. Please tell me this is a sign this med is the bomb that will kill these tumors and I can be spared.
All in good time...only God knows and I will lean on him.