Having an Elijah moment

I don’t ever want to be one of those little old ladies in the nursing home who goes on and on endlessly complaining about her aches, pains, and infirmities to anyone who might be listening. On the other hand, while I’m determined to maintain a positive attitude, I’m not actually Wonder Woman and I do have my “Elijah moments”.

If you’re at all familiar with the Old Testament, you may remember the story of the prophet Elijah, who immediately after experiencing an amazing victory on Mount Carmel and defeating 450 prophets of the false god, Baal, flees into the desert when his life is threatened by the wicked queen, Jezebel. Exhausted and depressed, he sits down under a broom tree and prays to die. “I have had enough, Lord,” he said. “Take my life.” (1 Kings 19:4) Later, he goes on to say, “I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, broken down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too.” (1 Kings 19:10)

Poor Elijah! An emotional high followed by a crash. That’s what I call an “Elijah moment” and I can definitely identify!

As I shared in Wednesday’s post, I was elated to learn that afternoon that my cancer had not spread or grown. The very next day, however, I learned that my thyroid is no longer functioning as it should. I knew that this could happen as a result of my treatments, but it still seemed like one more in a long list of health related discouragements. In the past 5 years, since my first cancer diagnosis, there has been a second cancer, high blood pressure, prediabetes, osteopenia, and now hypothyroidism! Like Elijah, I felt like saying, “I have had enough, Lord!”

After all, I could argue that I have been very zealous about living a healthy lifestyle. I exercise regularly, I eat healthy, I don’t smoke, I drink in extreme moderation, I’ve never used illegal drugs. Heck, I don’t even drink coffee! Why me? Why another diagnosis? I was definitely having an “Elijah moment”!

But God didn’t leave Elijah under the broom tree wallowing in despondency. He sent an angel to give him food and water, then He let him rest. Later, He spoke to him in a gentle whisper, gave him someone to walk beside him and share in his work, and sent him out to continue. God wasn’t finished with Elijah yet and apparently He isn’t finished with me either! Within a few hours of learning about my failing thyroid, an email from a ministry that I’m involved with made that very clear. And so, like Elijah, I’ll keep on keeping on. I’m determined not to become that crabby little old lady who has nothing better to do than complain!

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Statue of Elijah on Mount Carmel – Israel trip 2016

Still stable!

Stable has become one of my favourite words! Not the kind you keep your horses in, but the word that my doctors use to tell me that my cancer has not grown or spread!

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I heard that word again today when I sat down with the doctor to discuss the results of the CT scans that I had back on August 21st. Waiting almost a month was difficult and I admit to having some episodes of scanxiety during that time. It was heaviest as I sat in the waiting room early this afternoon not knowing if the news would be bad or good. I had no reason to suspect that it would be bad; no symptoms to suggest that the tumours might be active or growing again, but the knowledge is always there that that day could come at any time.

When the doctor told us that everything continues to be stable, the load was lifted in an instant and I felt lighter than air! All the way home (a two hour drive) I felt as though, had my seatbelt not been fastened, I might have lifted right off my seat!

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And so I keep on hanging on, living life to the fullest, and praising the Lord!

 

Five years and still very much alive!

Five years ago today I embarked on a new journey. That was the day that I sat on the grass beside a nature trail overlooking a beautiful lake while my doctor reluctantly told me that I had cancer! No, he wasn’t hiking with me. Richard and I were camping with our daughter and her children about three hours from home when Dr H phoned with the results of tests that I’d had done before leaving home the day before. We were planning to drop Melaina and the kids off in Calgary the following morning and continue on to Vancouver, but when I was told “this can’t wait” those plans suddenly changed. It would be another two weeks before I found out exactly what kind of cancer I had and even longer before I learned that it was incurable.

Five years is usually considered an important benchmark in cancer survival. Five years cancer-free or in complete remission has traditionally been seen as a milestone when a patient could say that their chances of having that cancer return was no longer likely. It’s a point at which they can, at the very least, be cautiously optimistic. But what of those of us who, barring a miracle, will never be cancer-free?

Sometime shortly after learning that I had cancer, we read that the average life expectancy for a neuroendocrine (NETS) cancer patient was five years following diagnosis. Well here I am five years later and still very much alive! Not only that, but as far as we know, the cancer has not grown or spread since that time. In fact, thanks to the PRRT treatments that I’ve been receiving, some of the tumours appear to have shrunk and one might even be gone altogether. I say “as far as we know” because I had CT scans last Tuesday and I won’t get the results until I meet with the doctor on September 19th.

As I reflect on those early days of uncertainty when I had no real expectation that I’d still be here today, I realize how very much I have to be thankful for. Immediately after diagnosis, I prayed for two very specific things: that I would live to see Melaina’s unborn baby (she was 10 or 11 weeks pregnant when I was diagnosed) and that I would see our youngest son married. I was definitely going out on a limb with that one as there was no young lady in his life at that time! Not only was I in the delivery room for Simon’s birth, but he’s now four and a half years old. I call him my “velcro” boy because whenever we’re together, he practically attaches himself to me. In addition, Nate has been married to our beautiful daughter-in-law, Colleen, for over three years.

So how does one celebrate five years of living with an incurable cancer? After all, it’s my cancerversary! I thought about planning a trip, something really momentous, but that didn’t happen. In fact, I’m not actually doing anything very special at all. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that whether you have cancer or not, every day is a gift. Every day is worth celebrating! The nurse was just here to give me my monthly injection. In awhile we’ll go out for lunch at The Wooden Spoon and then if the weather warms up a bit and the wind doesn’t blow too fiercely, we’ll take the kayak out on one of the lakes not too far from here.

Good news and then…

I’ve held off on writing this post for a little while because of the “and then” in the title, but here’s the latest update on my health. I had my tenth Lutetium treatment on Wednesday afternoon, spent the night in seclusion at the Cross Cancer Institute, and underwent follow-up scans early yesterday morning. After lying perfectly still under a warmed blanket (I love those warmed blankets!) while machines whirred around me taking detailed pictures of my insides, I sat down with Dr. Kounma to review the images.

These moments always stir up a bit of scanxiety. Rather than diminishing over time, I think that this has actually increased a bit in recent months. Shortly after I was diagnosed, we read that the average life expectancy for a NET cancer patient was five years following diagnosis. Better than a lot of cancers, I know, but I’m just a few months short of that now. Thankfully, the numbers have changed since that time. Last fall, Dr. MacEwan, head of my treatment team, presented at a NET cancer conference in Europe. By then, the time from diagnosis to disease progression (in other words, the cancer begins to grow and spread again) for patients who are part of the same clinical trial as I am, was 55 months. I passed that milestone a month ago.  This, too, is an ever changing number as more and more of us are meeting with success on this treatment plan.

Once again, the news was good! The post treatment images are not detailed enough to give exact measurements, but it was clear even to me that my cancer is not growing or spreading. In fact, if there has been any change at all in my tumours over the past few months, it appears to be for the better. We left the clinic rejoicing and praising the Lord!

AND THEN…

We were back home and it was four o’clock in the afternoon when the phone rang. It was Dr. Kounma. Apparently, when the radiologist reviewed the morning’s images, he saw something that appeared to be a partial obstruction of my small bowel. This was new since the CT scan that I had in February. Though I have exhibited absolutely no symptoms, Dr. Kounma’s instructions to me were “Go to ER for further evaluation today!”

YIkes!

That must have been one of the quickest ER visits in history! I left immediately for our small rural hospital, about ten minutes away and was back home again in little more than an hour. When I explained the situation to the intake nurse, she immediately picked up the phone and called my family doctor. He came over from his office, which happens to be housed in the same complex, and immediately reviewed the radiologist’s report online. His first comment to me when he saw me was, “Well you certainly look healthy for someone with a bowel obstruction!” He quickly determined that we were likely dealing with a red herring; that this was probably simply a false alarm. He was also quick to assure me that if there really was a blockage, it had absolutely nothing to do with my cancer. That was very reassuring. In fact, I wish that Dr. Kounma had thought to mention that.

Dr. Hanton decided that rather than jumping the gun and sending me back to the city for a CT scan, we would be best to take a wait and see approach. He told me the symptoms to watch for: vomiting, belching, abdominal pain, abdominal distention, lack of appetite, lack of bowel action, inability to pass gas. All of these would be pretty hard to miss if they began to happen. If need be, come back anytime, night or day, he told me and he even gave me his personal cell phone number in case I needed to get in touch with him!

18 hours have passed since the scans were completed and I’m still pooping and passing gas. (I bet you really wanted to know that, didn’t you?) It’s possible that there might be a partial blockage, but both doctors also assured me that these things sometimes resolve themselves. In the meantime, I’m thankful that my cancer is still stable and that, other than the usual post treatment tiredness, I’m feeling fine. Praise the Lord!

Sleeping beauty

LogoTaking an interest in fashion is usually about wanting to look our best. The clothes we wear are definitely an important part of that, but so is taking care of the body that we put those clothes on.

I’m reminded of the repainting that I’m doing in our living room right now. If I simply put fresh paint on the wall without first mending the nicks and scrapes and the holes from the old drapery rod that we just took down, the result would not look good at all. In the same way, without eating well, being physically active, and getting adequate sleep, we can put the loveliest clothes on our bodies and not end up looking very good.

Getting sufficient sleep can be a significant problem for many women. When we’re young, the demands of motherhood or a busy work life can make it difficult to settle in and get a good night’s rest and as we age there is often a decrease in the deep-sleep stage and an increase in periods of wakefulness during the night, not to mention more frequent trips to the bathroom.

I generally get plenty of sleep, but not at this time of year. I’m not an early riser, but at this time of year, the sun is! It rose at 5:36 this morning and will continue shining in my window earlier each morning for another month and a half. Every year at this time, I think about getting darker blinds for the bedroom, but after awhile I get used to the early morning light and the need for new window coverings is forgotten. This year, I came up with a new idea. A sleep mask!

A sleep mask is essentially a comfortable blindfold that blocks light and thus helps the wearer reach a deep and restful sleep even in situations like mine where there is a lack of darkness. There are a variety of different types of sleep masks available. In addition to the standard mask, there are pillow masks, or eye pillows, which are thicker and softer than a regular sleep mask. There are cooling masks, magnetic masks, and compression masks. There are even sleep masks designed specifically for aromatherapy. Masks come in a variety of materials with silk, cotton, and satin being the most common. Some masks use a combination of materials and some even have gel or foam inside to give the mask more structure. Some are made with raised eye cavities that allow you to open your eyes while wearing them.

I wasn’t at all sure how well I would adjust to sleeping with a mask, so I was hesitant to spend much on one until I’d given the idea a try. Imagine my delight when I found this satin beauty with a soft velvety lining at Dollarama for $1.25! There were a wide variety of colours available as well as a choice of witty sayings. It fits comfortably; not too tight, but snug enough to stay in place. I’ve only worn it two nights, so it might be a bit too soon to say for sure, but instead of waking up with the sun I’ve been able to sleep until 7:00 or later. IMG_5776

What about you? Do you have difficulty getting your beauty sleep? Have you tried wearing a mask?

 

Thankful for a root canal?

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

1 Thessalonians 5:8 is a scripture passage that can be very easily misunderstood. There are many things in life that I am not thankful for. Fortunately, I’m not told to be thankful for every situation, but rather in every situation. In even the most difficult circumstances of life, we can find things to be thankful for, whether it be the resources to handle the crisis or the support of family and friends through it.

That being said, I am actually thankful that early Monday morning I’m going to be having a root canal! How can that be? Thankful for a root canal? Am I crazy?

No, I would rather not have to have a root canal, but considering the other possibilities that crossed my mind after I discovered a lump on my gum a few weeks ago, I’m quite delighted that the problem is only an abscessed tooth and that the solution is as common as a root canal. You see, this is something that happens to ordinary mortals, not just cancer patients!

So, yes, as crazy as it sounds, I’m thankful for a root canal!

It isn’t going to be a simple procedure which is why it’s being done by an endodontist, a root canal specialist. The roots of this particular tooth are fused together. Apparently that’s not terribly uncommon, but it can make the procedure more complicated and it’s something my own dentist didn’t feel comfortable tackling. In spite of that, I’m still feeling

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Have you ever been thankful for something as crazy as a root canal?

What to do when life seems overwhelming

What do you do when life seems overwhelming?

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Recent circumstances have resulted in us leaving the church that was our strong support system for many years. We’re living in the midst of a home renovation project gone very wrong and trying to figure out how to deal with that. I’m off to the city early next week to see a specialist about a lump growing on my gums that my dentist hasn’t been able to find the cause of. We’re moving into the busiest season of the year for me in one of the volunteer positions that I hold. And to top it off, we seem to be living through the winter that will never end.

You’ve probably lived through similar seasons. Maybe you’re there right now. You may be dealing with an enormous stressor such as job loss or the death of a loved one or it might simply be an accumulation of smaller aggravations that have left you feeling completely swamped.

So what should we do when life leaves us feeling like we’ve reached the end of our rope?

If you’re a young parent, you probably feel this way a lot of the time and with very good reason! I asked my daughter what her advice would be and her reply was, “In my case the answer is don’t bite off more than you can chew!” That’s good advice for all of us. Sometimes we’re the cause of our own stressful predicaments. We simply take on more than we can handle. None of us has an infinite amount of time available, so perhaps in those cases the answer is learning to prioritize, learning better time management skills, or simply learning to say No!

But what can we do when we’re overwhelmed by circumstances that are beyond our control? I’m reminded of a dear friend who often asks, “In the light of eternity, does this really matter?” Sometimes we need to take a step back and look at the situation from a wider perspective. Yes, the new ceiling surface that was applied throughout the main floor of our house on Saturday is a superb example of shoddy workmanship and will have to be redone. We’re not sure how or when that’s going to happen. As stressful and aggravating as that is, it isn’t life threatening and years down the road, it won’t seem as big a deal as it does right now.

The lump on my gum, however, could be a big deal. When you’re a cancer patient, any inexplicable lump or bump is reason for concern, but the same wise friend once reminded me that 99% of the things we worry about never come to pass and all the worrying in the world won’t prevent the other 1%.

Whether we’re overwhelmed by the busyness of life, legitimate concerns, or distressing circumstances that are not of our own making, there are things we can do to help alleviate stress when it threatens to overcome us. What works for me, might not necessarily work for you, but here are a few suggestions to try.

  1. Focus on getting through one day or even one hour at a time. Matthew 6:34 gives this wise advice, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
  2. Don’t skip meals. When I’m severely stressed my appetite is the first to go, but our bodies need fuel. Eat regularly to avoid low blood sugar, fatigue, and brain fog.
  3. Drink a cup of tea. My automatic response to crisis situations has long been to brew a pot of tea, but now studies conducted in the UK have actually shown that drinking a single cup of tea can significantly reduce anxiety levels after suffering a stressful experience.
  4. Escape. Go for a walk or a drive in the country, lose yourself in a good book, get out of the office over your lunch hour. Do whatever it takes to get away from the stressful situation even for a short time.
  5. Exercise. According to experts at the Mayo Clinic, exercise in almost any form acts as a stress reliever, providing a distraction from worry and boosting the production of endorphins, the brain’s feel-good neurotransmitters.
  6. Pray. Prayer is an age old stress reliever that doesn’t require a prescription! Taking a few quiet moments to pray can help you gain perspective and find peace in the midst of turmoil. When the situation is so overwhelming that you can’t even find the words to pray, remember that Romans 8:26 tells us that “We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.
  7. Soak in a hot bath. Add a few drops of lavender oil which is commonly known for its relaxing effects on the body.
  8. Sleep. It may be difficult to quiet your mind enough to get to sleep when life seems overwhelming, but getting a good night’s rest should be a priority. A cup of chamomile tea half an hour before bedtime is widely regarded as a mild tranquilizer and sleep-inducer. Lavender oil can also be helpful here. Rub 2 or 3 drops on the palms of your hands and inhale deeply then wipe your palms on your pillow to leave a hint of lavender there.
  9. Don’t try to handle everything on your own. Delegate, ask for help, share your struggles. When stress doesn’t go away, and you’ve tried your best to manage it, you may need talk to a doctor or mental health professional about it. There’s absolutely no shame in that.

Great news!

Just a quick update concerning my health. As many of you know, I live with NETS, a little known and incurable cancer. I’ve been waiting all week for the phone to ring with the results of routine CT scans done early last week. I wasn’t anticipating bad news, but I do live with the reality that it could come at any time. Thankfully, today wasn’t that day!

Today, the news was good! Almost four and a half years after diagnosis, my disease continues to be stable with no sign of growth or spread.

Today I also learned that my last two 5H1AA tests have been normal! What does that mean, you ask. While the injection that a nurse comes to the house to give me once a month and the radioactive treatments that I receive twice a year aren’t expected to lead to a complete cure, the hope was that they would render my tumours inactive or dormant. Neuroendocrine tumours (NETS) produce and release excess amounts of hormones, particularly serotonin. 5HIAA is a 24 hour urine test that measures the amount of 5-hydroxyindoleacetic acid, a product of serotonin, found in the body. The normal test results show that my tumours are no longer active; no longer producing serotonin. It’s the serotonin that can cause symptoms including abdominal pain and cramping, diarrhea, joint pain, wheezing, fatigue and flushing of the skin. Because my levels have now been normal for several months, I was told today that I probably won’t have to repeat the 5H1AA test again unless I begin to experience symptoms again! That’s great news as it involves 3 days of dietary restrictions prior to the test and then 24 hours of collecting urine which can be quite a nuisance.

I’ll have my next treatment on May 23. Until then, with the exception of my monthly injections, I can forget about having cancer and get on with the business of living!

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If you’re curious about why the zebra is the symbol of neuroendocrine cancer, check here or here.

Ten years of blogging!

Ten years ago today I published my very first blog post! It was also the shortest post I’ve ever written and the message was very simple:

Richard and I have just accepted positions teaching conversational English in Japan. This is a one year commitment and we’ll be leaving in mid March. The main purpose of this blog is to share our adventure with friends, family and anyone else who’s interested.

Little did I expect to still be blogging ten years later! I anticipated that Following Augustine would only exist for the year that we would be in Asia. In fact, that’s why I chose the title. Augustine BeArce, a Romany Gypsy, was the first of my ancestors to cross the Atlantic Ocean from Europe and make his home in North America. 370 years later when I crossed the Pacific Ocean and settled for a time on the far side of the sea, it only seemed right to give credit to Augustine and the Gypsy blood that I inherited from him!

I’ve always been passionate about writing though and by the time our year in Japan came to an end, I knew that blogging was something I would continue to do indefinitely. What I didn’t know was what it would look like once I was no longer living in a foreign land. For lack of a better definition, I now refer to Following Augustine as a lifestyle, travel, and fashion blog, but one of my readers once called it a great advertisement for retirement!

Over the past decade, life has taken many unusual turns, some delightful and others deeply distressing. Following Augustine has been there through all the ups and downs.

We love to travel and the blog has recorded trips across Canada, into the United States, and to numerous other countries. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever expect to live in the People’s Republic of China though, but our five months there gave me plenty to write about. China’s internet censorship made it a bit more challenging to post from there, but thankfully, with the help of WordPress, I discovered a way to successfully break through or over the “Great Firewall” and continue blogging.

Cancer was never part of my plan either, but when it struck, the blog became a good way to process what was happening and to share it with friends and family. I’ve also used it as a way to raise awareness of NETS (neuroendocrine tumours), the little-known and often misdiagnosed cancer that I continue to deal with. My life is not all about my health, however, so neither is the blog. It’s about living life to the fullest in spite of all its challenges.

A couple of years ago, I became interested in fashion blogging and so the weekly Fashion Friday feature was born, not as a “look what I’m wearing today” narcissistic sort of thing, but as a way to connect with other women and to explore how the ways in which we present ourselves affect our lives. It has had the added benefit of ensuring that I write something at least once a week.

I am a Christ follower and I have fairly strong and not always popular or politically correct opinions on certain issues. I haven’t shied away from sharing those on the blog, but I’m committed to doing so with as much wisdom as God allows me, with integrity and with respect for those whose opinions differ from mine.

When I published that first post ten years ago, our daughter was expecting our first grandchild, so over the years five little people have appeared on the blog from time to time. I’m off to visit three of them this weekend and the other two for Christmas, so it’s possible that they might show up again soon!

What does the future hold for Following Augustine? I have no idea, but I’ve now written 882 posts and I don’t see them coming to an end anytime soon!

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On being radioactive

10991307_10153055708750915_6654881605691342497_nThough we often laugh and joke about it, there’s nothing fun about being radioactive two weeks out of every year. I don’t glow in the dark and I don’t have any special powers. I simply feel tired and have to limit the time I spend in close contact with other people. It’s not that bad really, but when I sit alone and watch Sunday morning’s sermon online and when my husband is out at a social event while I’m at home alone, it’s easy to start feeling a bit sorry for myself.

People often compliment me on my positive attitude and I think they’re right that it has a lot to do with how well my cancer battle is going, but there are moments when it’s hard to remain positive, when I’m tempted to invite myself to a private pity party.

For those who are new to my blog, I have neuroendocrine tumours (NETS), a little-known cancer that is often quite advanced at diagnosis due to the fact that its most common symptoms are very similar to more common ailments such as Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Crohn’s disease, lactose intolerance, asthma, and even menopause. Though it’s incurable, it is slow-growing and often treatable. I have the good fortune to live 2.5 hours by car from a state of the art treatment centre, one of the very few in North America that offer the latest and best treatment available for this type of cancer.

At this point, I am treated with radioisotope therapy once every six months. This involves an overnight stay at the cancer clinic followed by a week of semi-isolation at home. During that week I have to have my own bedroom and my own bathroom and I have to limit my contact with other people because I’m highly radioactive. I pose an especially high risk to pregnant women and children under the age of 12.

I had my most recent treatment on Wednesday. Scans the following morning showed that my condition continues to be stable. My cancer has not grown or spread. That’s exceptionally good news and when I start to feel sorry for myself, I have to remind myself of that!

The first couple of days of radioactivity aren’t bad. I spend a lot of time in the armchair in the corner of our guest room (which becomes my room for the week) or curled up on the love seat in my den. I’ve read almost two books in the past few days and drank copious cups of tea. By today, however, I’m beginning to miss human contact and I’m itching to be set free!

I did go for a short walk this afternoon. It’s a gloomy, grey Sunday afternoon in our very small town and the temperature is -5ºC (23ºF). Two vehicles went by, one at a distance and the other close enough for the driver to wave. Other than that, I didn’t see a single soul. Definitely no danger of radiating anyone! I could hear traffic out on the highway, my own feet crunching on the snow, and the occasional winter bird in the trees. It didn’t do a great deal to lift my spirits, but I’m sure the fresh air and exercise were good for me.

When I start feeling a little mopey, perhaps it’s a good idea to once again remind myself of the things that cancer cannot do.

What Cancer Cannot Do

Cancer is so limited…

It cannot cripple LOVE

It cannot shatter HOPE

It cannot corrode FAITH

It cannot destroy PEACE

It cannot kill FRIENDSHIP

It cannot suppress MEMORIES

It cannot silence COURAGE

It cannot invade the SOUL

It cannot steal ETERNAL LIFE

It cannot conquer THE SPIRIT

Author Unknown

It may leave me radioactive for a little while and feeling a bit sorry for myself. It may even eventually destroy my body, but as the poem says, it cannot conquer MY SPIRIT! 

As the old saying goes, “This too shall pass!” Two more days and I’ll be free again!