Well, I cannot believe it has been almost 2 years since I last typed here. I honestly don’t know what has kept me from it. I have thought about coming back to this keyboard many times, but there is a little inner voice that ‘helps’ me come up with excuses every time –

• I’m too busy.
• Is anyone really interested?
• There is way too much that has gone on since then to possibly catch you up.
• There is not anything going on so what would I have to say?

So you can see my dilemma – even though pre cancer I was one of THE most indecisive people you would ever meet, post cancer I have managed to rise to a whole new level.

Anyway – I have made it! I have shushed that voice and am finally putting out an update!

In March 2022, as I was completing my radiotherapy sessions, I was easing back into working, by joining meetings remotely. Soon after completing my treatment, I was given the all clear to return to work in person so eased back into this and am now back to working my usual schedule. Emma and Elijah are both in university, Ezra is finishing up high school, Ellie is a sweet 13 year old and wee Elspeth that was just finishing up nursery as I began my treatment for cancer is now in her 3rd year of school! How is that possible??? This past June, I had the privilege of watching Matt realize all his hard work and determination by becoming Dr. Matthew Ylitalo as he completed his PhD here at the University of St. Andrews.

Time for Reflection –

In preparing to give a talk to a group of medical students recently, I was reflecting on how much has changed since I completed my treatment – looking back at that time in my life with some different perspective and distance. The topic of the talk was Hope in the face of death. As I looked back at all I an my family went through and the amazing support we received from our families, friends, church and neighbors I was so immensely encouraged. I can absolutely say that going through that battle, there was always a strong feeling of Hope.

I feel a great responsibility in talking about these things that I don’t give the impression that God is good only because my treatment has been successful, but rather that living in a world where cancer is a thing that impacts people, I am aware that God worked every detail of my life in such a way that I felt loved and supported the entire time. Even when things were uncertain, I could still have hope. But please hear me when I say that if my treatment had not been successful, I would have had no less reason for hope. That is not the focus of this post, but for those who have followed me all the way through, you will know that my hope is not in this temporary life, but in the everlasting life paid for on my behalf, but my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. I am happy to chat about that more so please do get in touch if you have any questions.

So many reasons to be Thankful –

This November we were able to once again host a Thanksgiving meal. It had in years past been a thing we had enjoyed so much, but then was stopped due to COVID, then cancer treatment and various other things, but 2023 was the year to pull out all the stops. What a blessing to be able to bring people together for the purpose of expressing thanks, but also a great reminder to stop and think of what there was to be thankful for. I am certain that there are days when I take God’s goodness for granted, but I hope that I am able to see more clearly how blessed I am in the here and now. Not just in my bodily healing in the past, and not just in the hope of eternity one day, but in my day to day.

During my treatment and again since it has been complete, Mom and Dad have been able to travel again to see us. It has been so great that they are able to visit once again. Ang surprised to stew out of me in September of 2022! I was so excited for that visit and truly sad to see her go. She often says her soul is here – I can here it telling her she needs to come back again . And Rod and Alice made it over for Matt’s graduation. We weren’t sure if that was going to work out, but it was great to have them here for a visit!

There are so many other ways I have seen God’s hand of protection and healing in my life or even the lives of my family. In November of 2022, my mother was life flighted to Amarillo in acute renal failure and placed emergently on dialysis. This was a huge shock to the whole family and we didn’t know what to expect, but she was discharged from the hospital after about 2 weeks, no longer needing dialysis – what a miracle!

What a Christmas we had!! We were able to manage a trip back to Oklahoma for the whole family. Somehow schedules fit together well enough and with some generous help from parents toward tickets we all boarded the plane back to the US of A in mid December. Well, only to find out when on the tarmac our next flight had been cancelled. That sure seemed frustrating until later that night one of the children (who shall remain anonymous for the purpose of this post) fell ill. A full night GI distress ensued that would have been MOST unwelcome on an airplane or in an airport. We were so thankful for the delay and the provision of hotel for the night. After finally making it to Oklahoma – a day past our intended arrival, we squeezed so much into the time we had there. We saw our nephew commissioned into the USMC, enjoyed Christmas celebrations and traditions with both sets of grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins and even extended family. Everyone went above and beyond to make it all so special. What a great time of reconnecting with loved ones face to face! Loved every minute of it!

Something that I have been thinking a lot about this past year, especially since we now live so far from our families, is how unexpected it is that even though my two oldest are both ‘away’ at university, I still see them both on a regular basis. They are either a 20 min or hour and a half bus trip from ‘home’ and even just last night we were all together for a pizza and movie. God is so kind to this mamma!

These are just a few of the highlights. I could go on and on and on, but will need to stop there for now. I would encourage you to try sitting down and thinking of all you have to be thankful for. In the light of such turmoil going on in the world, this can be a great encouragment.

What now?

Short answer – I have no idea!!

I continue to work as a doctor for the frail elderly in Ninewells Hospital. Matt continues to work term to term for the University of St Andrews while applying for more long term employment. Emma and Elijah carry on toward their degrees in Forensic Anthropology and Business with Finance and Economics respectively. Emma is enjoying playing Lacrosse for the University and taking on responsibilities with the Dundee Uni CU (Christian Union) while Elijah continues to play basketball. Ezra is making decisions about what he wants to study after high school (but mainly wants to start learning to drive ) and making great strides as a leader on the rugby pitch. Ellie has started gymnastics and plays hockey at school. She is making choices of what subjects she will study for the next 2 years. And lastly, Elspeth is becoming a confident little swimmer and a good reader. She is a big help to her teacher at school and enjoys spending time with her friends.

So, I guess the long answer is we keep on living where we are, trying to be mindful of the blessings that are in each and every day, until we know what is next.

Tonight we sang a song in church that really expressed how I feel about the uncertainty that the future holds. I am sharing the link below to listen to it, but here are the lyrics. Each verse can be applied to various times in the past 3 years, but I am highlighting the last verse here –

“Though I may not see what the future brings
I will watch and wait for the Saviour King
Then my joy complete, standing face to face
In the presence of the Ancient of Days”

Q & A-

Well, there are usually a couple of things people want to know if they haven’t seem me in a while so I thought I’d put a couple of anticipated questions here with their answers. I would love if any of you want to comment with some other questions as well.

Are you in remission? Well, that isn’t exactly how this cancer works. I had 2 dear friends with the same type of cancer I was diagnosed with die after recurrence while I was just starting treatment for my cancer. There had been points in time when they had been ‘cancer free’, but this one has a sneaky way of popping back up elsewhere. I was counseled at the start of my treatment that there were not statistics to tell me how my body should respond to my treatment at 5 or 10 years because there had been massive changes in how it was treated and the outcomes were much more encouraging. So, even though I had as complete of a response to every treatment that was thrown at my cancer, there isn’t really a way to know if it will come back.

How do you feel now? I think I actually feel quite ‘normal’. There are some nagging issues that may or may not be related to my treatment, but on a whole, I have very little to complain about. Some issues may come from now being a bit older and that – as I mentioned earlier – I’ve allowed myself to become more sedentary. Hopefully, finally working up the will power to fight against the voice of indecision will bleed over from this blog post into getting up and moving – becoming consistent with exercise and fitness.

How can we help and support people facing cancer and other health challenges? Ok, I will confess that no one has actually asked me this question, but I think it is a question many people WANT to know the answer to. I am not sharing this because we are in a position of needing extra help and support, but rather give the perspective from someone who has been on the receiving end. On a personal/local level, anything practical is always great – meals, childcare, notes/messages/texts/calls of encouragement. On a community or corporate level – it is great to get involved in activities and fundraisers to help raise money, provide resources, and promote awareness of unmet needs. There is nothing so encouraging as watching your children who have benefitted from the kindness of others when our family were in need, now determined to make a difference in the lives of others as they face their own battles. Emma has set a goal during the month of February to raise £700 to donate toward the Little Princess Trust. Please consider supporting her. You can find the details here – Emma’s Fundraiser for Little Princess Trust

The post Long Overdue Update first appeared on Even The Hairs of Your Head.

Well, it is finally here, my last week of treatment for this cancer. As usual, I had fully intended to do more updating, but took advantage of some peace and quiet to read, explore, and just try to relax. Well, okay so my version of relaxing meant most days step count exceeded 10,000 so I think I still haven’t quite gotten the hang of that. My routine has been getting the 7:48 train from Dundee to Glasgow Queen Street each Monday and then a commuter train out to where I am staying in West End in Glasgow. Then, every Friday, I would repeat the same in reverse to spend the weekend at home. I actually enjoy riding on the train so that has been a bonus – to work, read, puzzle over the Wordle or Quordle of the day while I am traveling beats driving any day.

Cheers!

My home away from home was the Leonardo Inn West End which is conveniently a less than 5 minute walk from the Beatson West of Scotland Cancer Centre. You will remember from my last post that I am getting my radiotherapy here since the NHS trust where we live was unable to provide what was needed at this time so arranged to have my treatment here and reimburse the cost of travel and accommodations. Though it is obviously not a bar/pub, my stay at the Leonardo Inn has had very much a ‘Cheers’ vibe. Have I lost some of you? This will definitely tell my age, but the theme from the sitcom, Cheers was a place where ‘everybody knows your name’. Staying here included breakfast and the evening meal (supper, dinner, tea – fill in the appropriate blank for your particular culture). Being away from home, family and friends, it was nice to be greeted by name, and have a ‘usual’ drink that was known to them (Dad – you’d be proud to know it was fizzy water).

Every morning there was a buffet offering a full cooked ‘Scottish Breakfast’ – sausages, bacon (the strip of ham type, not American style), mushrooms, tomatoes, (occasionally) Haggis, eggs and of course baked beans. There was also lovely fruit, cheese, meats and breads to toast. I will now admit to pulling what I will call and ‘Alice’ (this particular Alice will know who she is) as I was getting the train directly home after my treatment on the Friday so I decided to make my lunch from the breakfast items as well. I told Matt that to have truly pulled an ‘Alice’, I should have also taken a couple packets of the nice strawberry jam .

Facebook Friends-

Social medial may have it’s MANY faults, but it has been brilliant at keeping me connected with so many people during my treatment. With some it is sharing frustration or elation over the daily Wordle, others it is keeping up with what is going on with their families, but I can say for me it has turned into a literal life line. If you are anything like me, you belong to some very oddly specific groups – to name a few I am a member of ‘American Women Living in Scotland’, ‘Physician Moms of Four or More’, and ‘Hooker High Class of 1990’. Once I started down this road of cancer diagnosis and treatment, I was added to more that were focused on that – groups from both the US and UK of fellow physician mothers diagnosed with cancer. These groups have women of all ages and stages with a variety of cancers in various stages of treatment and recovery. There are some who have had more than one cancer and recurrent cancers. As you can imagine, they are a treasure trove of information and a good place to get a reality check when you feel you are having a bad day – there is always someone having a worse one. I have had opportunity to turn some virtual friends to live, in person ones and that is such a blessing!

In addition to these groups, there have been so many people from different stages of my life (Hooker, Enid, Tennessee, OU, Naval ROTC, USMC, Scotland, and on and on) that have reached out to encourage me, friends old and new and all of you have been a help and encouragement along the way. So many have been in touch to let me know they are praying for us and that is so comforting and humbling.

Doon the Toon –

Being so close to the West End, I was able to walk there on several occasions for lunch and even ventured to walk as far as the Kelvingrove museum – that ended up a bit further of a walk than I had anticipated, but made it back in one piece. I was also able to take advantage of the closeness of Hyndland station and bought a train flexipass to go in and out of Glasgow city centre. Those who know me, know I am not a fan of shopping, but it was fun to just see all the activity and have some passable Mexican food as well. Evidently, Glasgow has really put itself forward as a location for filming movies. On several occasions through out my 4 weeks there, I ran into film crews working on Batgirl. I was intrigued by this and stood around a fair bit waiting for something exciting to happen, but managed to only see a lot of cameras moving from here to there, a crowd of extras with umbrellas running away from a police car, and a stuntman riding his motorcycle up to said car and skidding to a stop. As best I can tell, movie making is a good bit of lots of people just standing around waiting for things to happen.

Hair it comes –

So thought I would also give a further update on the hair – it is growing. It is gray, but it is growing. I think there was a day or two this week I almost caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. That is funny after not seeing that girl for so long. I would love to add in some colour with scarves and such, but really feel at this stage I end up looking like either a pirate or a fortune teller. Just gotta figure out how to pull this new look off ︎

What’s next??

Well, Matt and Emma are on their way as we ‘speak’ to help me ‘ring the bell’. You have likely seen photos and videos of people doing this. It is to signify the end of treatment and help give a sense of completion to the whole thing. I have learned along this journey that the road is not the same for everyone. There are many who have rung that bell who are no longer here – they have died of either the same or another cancer. So it is with a bit of trepidation I will ring it, knowing there is noting ‘special’ about ringing it that means I am out of the woods or that this cancer is gone. That may sound a bit depressing and I don’t intend that at all. Instead, today I want to focus on the fact that God is good and will sustain me. If the ringing of that bell ends up not being the end of my treatment for cancer, I will not have failed, cancer will not have ‘won’ and God will still be good. Today, I am happy to be over this hurdle finally (I never could get the knack of running hurdles) and am thankful to so many – I am already thinking of my next post and how many people I will need to be thanking, but for now know if you are reading this, you have been an encouragement and blessing to me. God has used each and every one of you along the way and I love you!

The post It’s the ‘Last Train to Glasgow’ . . . first appeared on Even The Hairs of Your Head.

In order to plan my treatment, I had some scans and my first ever tattoos! Now, if I were choosing a tattoo, it would be a bit more exciting than three tiny dots, but as they are free of charge, I suppose I can’t complain. These marks are used to position me for each treatment to make sure they are zapping the exact tissue that needs it. The areas being treated are where the original tumor was as well as all the lymph nodes associated with that area. So as I write you, I have completed my first 4 treatments.

EnCANto

So, are any of the rest of you living out Encanto or is it just in our house? We have all claimed our favorite songs or characters, who we relate to most and who we find most annoying. These songs and the story have so many layers. We have had some quite in depth conversations in our home that have stemmed from either points in the story or something emphasized in one of the songs. It is fun hearing my children’s opinions and what they are thinking during these discussions. In general, I think most mothers will relate to Luisa and her song ‘Surface Pressure’. The pressure really is a drip drip drip that tip tip tips. It is striking how she feels so alone in carrying IT ALL. It is so easy to feel this way – like the literal weight of the world is bearing down and everything will fall apart if we don’t stay strong. That being said, the lyric that resonates with me the most is in Isabella’s song ‘What Else Can I Do?’. It is actually somewhat of a secondary lyric. Mirabel is singing ‘It just seems like your life’s been a dream since the moment you opened your eyes.’ Isabella then sings ‘How far do these roots go down?’. That just stops me in my tracks every time. I don’t know specifically what that line is meant to invoke, but putting these two ideas together makes me question how deeply rooted this idea of having to stay strong and carry the load is. In Isabella’s case, she is likely singing about the expectation of perfection and even who decides what is perfect – now that topic could take a whole post of its own, am I right? These ideas of ‘strength’ and ‘perfection’ that we measure ourselves by are dangerous and in fact we are often the only ones expecting we live up to them. Cancer really has a way of taking you down a notch or two. What happens when you were the one that just kept going, no matter how tired you were and now you find just basic activities fatiguing? Or when you are used to being intellectually sharp and a problem solver and then find yourself struggling with making very basic decisions? Or when you had perfect hair and physique and then find yourself balding and out of shape? – hehe in my case this one may be stretching the ‘before’ description a bit far. These deeply rooted expectations have GOT TO GO! I am not loved or valued based on ANY of this. The truth is that no matter what I or others see as my strength, that is not what defines me. That thing may be taken away from me tomorrow and then what am I left with? I find such encouragement knowing that I am known best by the one who created me – faults and all- and I am loved unconditionally. While speaking of a great difficulty he was facing, one of Jesus followers shared that it was in this weakness that God’s power was made perfect (2 Corinthians 12). It is not by any strength or talent I may have that God’s power is manifested, but in my weakness. Now that is a hard one to grasp for sure and I can’t really say that I know how that all works. But, what I DO know is that even in the lowest valleys of life, no ESPECIALLY in the lowest valleys, God’s grace and strength is most obvious.

There have been some ‘hair’ goings on at our house again. That hair is growing back and I enlisted Emma to help me give it a bit of color. It didn’t take that well, but still had fun trying it out. While I am encouraging my little bit of hair along, Ellie and Elspeth were ready to get rid of some of theirs. Ellie wanted to donate hers to the Little Princess Trust to be used in making a wig.

I definitely have a long way to go, but maybe you can work with me to dig out those deep roots of expectation. Looking to the future (by the way, there is not really such a thing as ‘post cancer’ or ‘after cancer’, but living in the light of it constantly) I am not discouraged, but instead feel a sense of freedom from expectation and am ready to see, ‘What Else Can I Do’? (yep, I am gonna leave all of you proper grammar types with that ending ).

The post Radioactive, radioactive – first appeared on Even The Hairs of Your Head.

I did encounter some disappointment early on when meeting the anesthetics team. I learned that the anesthetist (anesthesiologist for those in the US reading this) would have normally had his monocle, but hadn’t worn it that day – that would have truly made my day – being put to sleep by someone wearing a monocle! They made quick work of getting me ready to go and it seemed they had just pushed some medication into my IV when I was being wakened to be told the surgery was all finished. I know most mothers will be with me when I say, ‘why did they have to go and wake me up’?? That was some of the best sleep I have had in ages. Couldn’t they just let me come around on my own? Am I right?? Who’s with me?

Since then we have been a bit stuck on ‘pause’. Hmmm, how to describe what I mean – I am not sure how many of you have young children, but even those who do not will still be able to picture it. Friday night – family movie night – everyone <finally> has their food and drink, and Dad has pushed the play button. We are in the thick of the action and a little voice asks to pause the movie – needing the toilet, wanting to get some ice cream or a drink or – fill in the blank. So we pause it as they run out of the room to accomplish whatever is needed. And we all wait. That is how I suppose things have felt the past 2 weeks – like sitting in the living room staring at the paused screen while all sorts of activity is going on elsewhere. Wanting so badly to know how the end of the movie will unfold.

So while we sit in pause, I thought it would be a good time to just chat a bit. Cancer has really provided time and material for observation. For instance, one assumes urine will usually be yellow – varying shades mind you, but on a really ‘dry’ day it may be quite dark or if I am doing a good job drinking it would be quite pale. Well, with chemo, I have had bright red urine and post op it was really the loveliest colour of blue (somehow I have a photo of the red, but not the blue – I much preferred the blue). You also get quite used to how things ‘should’ taste or smell and it is interesting how that can change your enjoyment of food and drink or even showering! (Don’t worry, I am not going to subject you to any photos of urine )

I suppose all of these things are just variations on the theme of perception or perspective. These are things that I had no control over, but there were other things that followed on from them that were absolutely within my control. Remember my association with the colour yellow? Well, I can report that I have worn yellow just this past week and had no ill effects . However, there is a perfectly fine chair in a lovely corner of the chemo suite by the window, and given the choice, I would not sit in that spot again. Having only had 2 reactions to chemo therapy there were both in that chair. Even issues around my hair. That is, after all where many of you joined me on this journey – ‘losing’ my hair. I was determined not to ‘lose’ it, but to give it. Once it was gone, I still went through a time of looking in the mirror at a stranger. Once I started into my second set of chemo, some funny, wispy, cottony, frail, old-man type hair started growing in. I had kept my eyebrows and eyelashes to that point, but they all started falling out. I had just gotten used to the ‘bald’ me with brows and lashes and now here we go again. Now, I’ve got some gray and darker hair coming in, lashes and brows showing signs of returning and I am still not sure who that is in the mirror. I am sure I am the same person, but each day I barely recognize myself – all different perceptions of the same person.

So many of you have been encouraging and supportive. I have had notes, comments, letters and gifts that have thanked me for my attitude during this time and related that I have encouraged some of you. While, I am glad they have found some encouragement in my sharing my experience, I would be remiss if I took that praise for myself. As I have discussed my difficulties, and talked about some dark topics, I wanted to also make clear the source of my hope. It is not anything of my self, but having the security of being loved and accepted above all of this and REGARDLESS of how it all turns out. I know it likely sounds crazy. Has that chemo fried her brain too? Perhaps it has – that is still out for debate, but most importantly, I have placed my faith in the belief that God made me, loves me, and like any loving father, truly wants what is in my best interest. That is the reason for the verse from the book of Jeremiah on our shirts – in chapter 29 verse 11, God says “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare^[a] and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”

With making it through the milestone of surgery, I have been venturing farther afield. I have been blessed to start attending church again with my family. Although I would love to be able to sing mask free, one of the things I love best is lifting up my voice to sing with others. We are currently studying the 23rd Psalm (very fitting for one undergoing trials). There are a lot of sheep around these parts so I love the visual of the sheep and shepherd and one of the songs we sang 2 weeks ago had the following verse. I hope it (and indeed Psalm 23 itself) might bring comfort and encouragement to any who may be facing a difficult time –

The night is dark, but I am not forsaken,

for by my side, the Saviour he will stay.

I labour on in weakness and rejoicing

for in my need, his power is displayed.

To this I hold, my Shepherd will defend me; through the deepest valley he will lead.

Oh the night has been won, and I shall overcome! Yet not I , but through Christ in me.

You may recall that I mentioned that my breast surgeon is my friend that I met shortly after moving to Scotland – before I knew I would be needing a breast surgeon. Well, my friend, in her capacity of my breast surgeon phoned me last week to let me know she had seen my pathology results (the tests that are run on the tissue samples removed during surgery) and they are all clear of any cancerous cells. Woohoo! What great news! It is so easy to get caught up in the joy of that news and think – God is so good to me, chemo did it’s job and surgery was successful. But that same week, I also received news that a dear friend in my church would not be going home from the hospital. There were no more ‘good news’ phone calls for her. In that bittersweet of my good outcome and her death, I am still confident that God is good. And my two friends who have died with this same cancer over the course of my treatment so far would have told you the same. Though I am delighted about the good report, I am even more glad that I have a hope that does not rely on it.

The post Living in the ‘pause’ – first appeared on Even The Hairs of Your Head.

You may recall from the start of this blog that the plan to treat my cancer has 3 parts – chemo, surgery, and radiation. Well tomorrow is step 2 of 3. When I was talking to Ellie about this she said, ‘ yay, that means you are half way done.’ Erm, not really – gotta work some more on our fractions –

I don’t actually feel very nervous or worried at the moment, perhaps I will when Matt literally drops me off at the hospital, but so far I am feeling calm. I was reflecting a bit on that this week. Someone asked me if I was worried and I thought it was odd, but I wasn’t. I started thinking about this whole process so far and, other than the day I found the lump and the time leading up to an actual diagnosis, I haven’t really been anxious. I truly knew it was breast cancer from day one. I don’t exactly know how to explain it, but I have had a feeling of peace all along the way. I have been well looked after and God has strengthened my faith as well. It is difficult to explain, but it isn’t faith in a good outcome, but faith that I will be held and loved, no matter the outcome. I don’t know if this cancer is one that will be ‘beaten’ or not. I have learned being a part of different groups, that cancer will affect my life going forward, regardless of the outcome. In a sense there is not a ‘getting over it’, but more of a living with it. If that is what lies ahead, I have examples of those who have done that in my mother, friends old and new and even some friends that I had no idea that had been through breast cancer treatment. I have no indication that my treatment will not be successful, but even if it were not to be, I have had the precious example of my dear friend Clare who lived her life with cancer graciously to the end. You see, more and more, I am becoming convinced that the ‘end’ is not what is important, it is the living in the moment, the relationships along the way.

It may seem a small thing, but we currently have rented a hot tub since we have be isolating for my surgery. I am pretty sure I wouldn’t have thought to do this if I was living/working as usual. I have so appreciated the messages of love, thoughts, prayers, and encouragement and the time people have taken to let me know I am loved and you are thinking of me. This chapter in my life has been about slowing down and trying to make the most of what IS, not worrying about what MIGHT BE. So, today, I set up a tent in the back garden and have a table set up in it for table tennis, because – WHY NOT??? I am sure my kids think I am off my rocker setting up a tent in the middle of winter, but they helped me do it anyway. I was always the one who did what was expected of me and didn’t push the boundaries. I will admit, it is still foreign to me to venture very far outside of my box, but I am learning to enjoy the ‘freedom’ having cancer has brought me –

So, put up your tent or rent your hot tub, or whatever it is that you would never think to do. Seize every moment- I am not sure what my tomorrow will look like, but I am ready to plunge into it and see what is in store. Please keep me and my family in your thoughts and prayers and I will update you on how it all went as soon as I am able – I will have loads of time since I won’t be able to spend any more time in the hot tub .

The post Step 2 of 3 – does that make this a 2 step? first appeared on Even The Hairs of Your Head.

After celebrating our Thanksgiving, we marked Ezra becoming 15! That guy just keeps growing. Biggest of my children and has the smallest room. Generally defers his choices, letting others choose first, but is a bull on the rugby pitch. Then was the much awaited return of our Emma. She had been in the US for 6 months! That is a looooonnnnnnnggggg time. It is so nice to have our 7 all back together again. What a blessing it is. Yesterday we had Elijah’s 17th birthday with the crew (minus Elspeth and I) racing one another in go karts and watching Spiderman – No Way Home (3D no less), followed by Pizza at home and birthday cake. He is up before me most days delivering the paper – not an easy feat in the dark and often wet Scottish morning weather. So now we wait for Christmas and what else ? Oh, yes – my surgery.

On the 16th day of Christmas my surgeon gave to me . . .

I am not sure if that is how it works – is the 12th day of Christmas the 25th? If so then this title works, if not, chalk it up to chemo brain and move on. Just to bring everyone up to date – I truly have a hard time remembering who I have told what and even where I have left my glasses, so I will just tell it all again.

MRI/Mammogram/Ultrasound all showed my cancer responded very well to chemotherapy – as good as they could have hoped for. This meant all that can now be seen are the clips placed at the initial biopsies. Again a massive thank you to you all for your thoughts, prayers, gifts, lifts, meals, and encouragement. The next step is to remove the tissue (lumpectomy) including and surrounding the clips, any concerning lymph nodes on the right, and not to be too graphic, then even up the other side. This will eventually be followed by radiotherapy, but that will be a month or more down the road. My surgery is scheduled for the 29th of December. The protocol is to keep out of close public contact for the 2 weeks prior (so basically now) and then isolate – even from immediate family as much as possible – the 72 hours prior to surgery. Yes, I see those hands out there, you have some questions? I will pause at this point and transition into doctor mode to answer them.

Q&A time –

1. If they don’t see any cancer on the MRI/Mammogram/Ultrasound, why do you still need surgery? Well, the cancer cells are quite small and are only able to be seen with our eye or imaging when they are multiplying and growing or have already done so. The chemotherapy has done it’s job in hitting them back, but we don’t know that there may still be dangerous changes in the cellular level that we cannot see. This can only be seen under magnification and – you see where I am going with this? This is only possible if the tissue is cut out. Cue the next question –
2. How do they know what to cut out if you can’t see it? That was the reason for placing the clips at the time of biopsy, so it can be found if the cancer ‘disappears’ with chemo. But, the clips are very small and cannot even be clearly seen on ultrasound so I have had another visit to the Breast center to have magnetic beads injected at the site of the clips to help them with removing all the appropriate tissue during surgery. These are placed guided by mammogrophy. Is it hard to imagine a mammogram being any more awkward? Well, it definitely can be, let’s just leave it there shall we?
3. Why not just have ALL the breast tissue removed (mastectomy)? Wouldn’t this be safer in protecting against a recurrence? It may seem like that is the case and some would argue for a complete mastectomy to perhaps avoid radiation and its complications. Well, the type of cancer that I have – triple negative (I think I explained this in an earlier post) can just as easily recur outside of the breast and studies show no better recurrence rates with mastectomy compared with lumpectomy and radiation. Since the biopsied lymph node showed cancer cells, I was going to be getting radiotherapy regardless of my surgery. A lumpectomy has much lower complications and recovery compared to mastectomy and doesn’t (in my case) require further reconstruction at a later time. Since it would only leave me looking a bit unequal, that will be sorted at the same time and if all goes well post operatively and with the pathology results, I will not require any further surgery.

Back to waiting –

So, we are just here waiting. We have a few simple Christmas plans and hope to spend some time meeting people out of doors, but otherwise keeping it very low key. For some reason, I feel the need to apologize for this, but actually I am enjoying the lower stress level and think it helps to focus more on why we celebrate . I know that all reading this blog will not necessarily hold the same beliefs as I do, but there are traditions and beliefs around Christmas that are central to the Christian faith. One of these is that Christmas is the celebration of the long awaited Saviour, Jesus Christ. His birth was promised long before it happened and many of our stories, songs, and traditions include people who were waiting – Mary and Joseph, shepherds, wisemen/kings, and angels. They were waiting for a baby to be born in expecting that he would free Israel from Roman rule, not realizing that this baby who was in fact ‘God with us’ would free them and all humankind from so much more. He would live a sinless life, grow to a man, perform miracles, and although possessing the power to prevent it, allow himself to be killed, paying the debt that none of us are able to pay. Once I am stitched back up after surgery, there is no guarantee that I will be free of cancer, but I do have the confidence that through Jesus’ gift, I am free from the debt of my sin. Regardless of what happens with my cancer, that is reason to CELEBRATE!

So, from the sometimes sunny Scotland, we wish you a very Merry Christmas and pray for God’s richest blessings in your life in the coming year.

The post Waiting . . . first appeared on Even The Hairs of Your Head.

Well, lets get down to some updates – there is quite a lot that has happened so, buckle up,. . .

Updates (couldn’t think of a catchy title) –

My last update was about 2 weeks ago. Well, I went in for chemo on that Friday and had a reaction to my chemo yet again. As before, everyone reacted quickly and avoided anything very serious. I spent a good deal of time trying to convince myself it was something else, I was just anxious and that was why my breathing felt heavier and my head felt tight, but nope – it was the carboplatin at it again. That meant I was not going to be able to receive that particular part of my chemotherapy again. So the past 2 weeks I have been down to just the Paclitaxel. Everything has gone smoothly and without any further complication. Woohoo. Now this is only phase 1 of 3 (here we are, back to fractions again . Even so, it is nice to have it – ‘in the can’.

I have now had all of my imaging repeated – MRI, Mammogram, and Ultrasound (and even a visit to the clinical photography studio – it is actually called a studio ). I have never been one for being photographed so all this focus on my breasts has been a bit, well weird. I never had aspirations of being a centerfold, and the ‘clinical photography studio’ nice as it was, has reinforced this life choice . But, I digress, the results are back and I am pleased to say that despite 2 missed weeks, a reduced dose and dropping the carboplatin on the last two cycles, my cancer has responded very well and is no longer visible on any of these scans. This is what we were hoping for and also the reason that clips are placed in the areas where the biopsies are taken. That way, they can find where the cancer was and still remove it to look at the pathology. So now the gears are shifting toward planning for surgery. It looks as though this will be scheduled for the last week of the year.

A Very Thankful Thanksgiving

So there is MUCH to be thankful for. Sure, I can be bummed out that due to keeping ‘mom safe’ we aren’t having our usual blowout Thanksgiving. Or that this Christmas season will feel a bit too much like last year – locked down isolating for surgery. But, what a blessing to have this great news to celebrate. I have my family looking out for me here, my parents who trekked the globe to see us and lend their support, my sisters at my beck and call, my in-laws with their ongoing love and support. I have my Emma returning to us soon ( I have missed that young lady!), we have a church family that have gathered around us and lifted us up with lifts, food, and prayers. We have a primary one family who have helped keep life normal for Elspeth and provided us love and support as well. I really have so little reason to complain. Everyone has a different path, this one is mine and God is walking faithfully beside me through the good and bad of it. I know not everyone will agree with me, but it is not his job to remove the obstacles in my way, but to support me along it. Just like with my kids, sometimes it is 10 times easier to just do the task myself, but then they are robbed of learning how to succeed. I am not sure what success looks like with respect to cancer. I think it can look a lot of different ways. And here we are back to perspective. One last story and it will ‘be a wrap’ (I’m trying to drop you little hints here along the way – )

It is all much clearer if you wait for the light –

Elspeth and I were waiting to pick up the older three at school. It was only 5:15pm, but in the UK in November, it may as well be midnight it is that dark. Anyway, since we were waiting, Elspeth unbuckled and came to sit in the front with me while we listened to Christmas music and I did what any mom in that situation with 15 spare minutes will do – pull out my phone and try to catch up on my to do list. So the next thing I know, the rearview mirror is dangling from the windscreen. She had somehow pulled it down! Well, of course I tried to just shove it back up there, but with no light that was difficult. When the kids got to the car, Ezra and I attempted again after looking at both pieces with the torch on our phones (that is so much cooler of a word than flashlight don’t you think?), but still couldn’t get it on. I even moved to the other seat where I could get it to stay on – sort of- but it was visibly crooked and could easily be pulled back down. ARGH!!!!

Well, today was the first opportunity I had to look at the situation in daylight. I approached it the same as before, trying to line it all up and just push it on really hard, but got nothing but dangling mirror. It just really wanted to go on crooked for some reason. So I took it off again and took off my glasses (yep, this is where we are – if you know you know) and gave both pieces one more look with proper lighting and it became clear. The mirror needed to placed against the windscreen ‘crooked’ and then rotated into the proper place. No amount of forcing it from straight on would have worked. I am not exactly sure of the point of this story except that I spent a good amount of frustration, time and effort trying to do something in less than optimal conditions. What I really needed was to wait for the proper light and perspective.

Next week it will be strange to not go to Ninewells on Thursday and Friday as I have been for so many weeks, but life beckons – we’ve got boys gettin’ older around here that need celebrated and Christmas decorating to do, and an Emma to welcome home and . . .

The post 🎶 Last Chemo🎵. . .- first appeared on Even The Hairs of Your Head.

So it is becoming clear that keeping a blog is quite similar to writing letters. I really stink at keeping current in both of these areas. I am THAT person that loves to receive a letter and has the best of intentions of writing myself, but then just get sidetracked, forget, etc and don’t get around to it. So, sincerest apologies for keeping everyone hanging – and off we go-

When I last left you, I was waiting for blood results to return. Well, they were much the same, but my doctors decided that as a doctor, I understood the risk involved with the low white blood cell counts and that I was sensible so they would allow me to decide if I wanted to go forward with chemo. Well, of course I decided to go forward (I am not sure what gave them any indication that I am sensible, but I was going to just run with their misconception ;). In order to keep going, my chemo dosage would be decreased and I would start back on injections to help boost my WBC counts. Well, that was almost 3 weeks ago and my counts have been amazing! Thank you all so much for your thoughts and prayers during this time.

If I am to be honest (funny to say that, why would I be dishonest?), I was disappointed that my cell counts weren’t ‘miraculously’ improved. I mean, wouldn’t that prove the power of prayer? As I considered this, it occurred to me I was quite specific in what I prayed for and in turn asked others to pray for. I wanted the numbers to behave. Why did I want that? Well, so I could proceed with chemo of course. But there were actually other things that had been nagging at me those two weeks off of chemo. I really felt like I KNEW what we should be doing and I felt like NO ONE WAS LISTENING to me. What did I want? I wanted the injections to boost my white cell counts. Every time I mentioned it, I was assured that it would be considered and each time I asked about it when chemo was called off, it was not going to be the plan. Did I pray for this? Actually, no, I did not. So when my numbers were still not behaving, but I felt like I had been HEARD, it was an answer to a prayer that I didn’t even think to pray.

Why does this matter, you may ask? Isn’t the end result the same – more chemo? Well, yes and no. If my WBC count continued limping on at ‘just good enough’, I could have chemo, but realistically, still be at higher risk of infection. With these injections, my WBC count is doing very well. As not just coronavirus, but also flu and other seasonal illnesses pick up in the colder weather, even though I am still considered immune suppressed, I have extra protection with these boosted counts.

I don’t have many ‘relevant’ photos, but will admit part of the reason I am slow to update is I am enjoying my favourite season – Fall/Autumn!! Here is a glimpse of what we’ve been up to –

Just when you think you’ve got the hang of it –

So I have been back in the chemo chair the past two Fridays. I have been starting a bit of a countdown as the plan is still to finish up chemo the last Friday in November. So last week I got settled in for the routine of the day. I pack a lunch to take along, I even took my laptop to catch up on a bit of online education. I had taken a small nap and eaten my lunch and was just watching a bit of Netflix when I got a funny wee feeling in the palms of my hands. No big deal, just a bit itchy. Hmmm, and I might need to blow my nose as well, now that I think of it. I’m not sure why my eyes are feeling a bit heavy. I already took a nap? There is only 5 more minutes in this episode. Perhaps I will just see how I feel when it is over. I then remembered that my doctors were trusting me to be ‘sensible’. So I started putting all my ‘tech’ away – because if there is an emergency, I sure don’t want anything spilled on my laptop – sensible, right? Then I quietly asked if my nurse was available. Well, the look I got when I asked that question told me I was right to let them know because everyone started running – running for BP cuffs, fluids, extra hands . . . There was no convincing them that I was ‘fine’, but just thought I should tell them about my hands, and now perhaps my feet as well, and maybe now that you ask, I can’t get quite as deep of a breath as usual. Then BAM – shot of IV hydrocortisone! Whooo hooo that is something. Not that I have ever sat on a cactus that was on fire, but I imagine it would feel a bit like that.

My hesitation to mention how I was feeling was rooted a bit in my determination to not miss any more chemo. I mean, what if I complain and it isn’t anything and I then miss another round? Well, once everything settled down, the plan was to retry it more slowly and get the remaining carboplatin in, now that I had the extra protection of the hydrocortisone and other emergency meds on board. I was able to finish with no further drama. Hoooray!

Other than feeling tired, I have done very well with being able to keep going . As usual, it is often the motivation that is lacking. My sister is doctor of Physical Therapy and works primarily with clients living with Parkinsons disease. When I saw a challenge put out by one of her clients who is also a cancer survivor, I was motivated to join in her challange. I mean, a one time 2K walk is so doable, right? Well, I had no sooner committed to that, than the school Elijah, Ezra, and Ellie attend issued a Movember challenge for the month of November focusing on men’s health and men’s mental health. The options were to grow your beard/mustache, walk/run 60k in November, or simply ‘move’. Well, we are a family impacted by these issues so although it was a ‘bit’ more than just 2k, I thought I would commit to that as well.

Where have those 21 weeks gone???

Well, today will be my 3rd to last chemo session. That means I have got more appointments and scans coming up in the next few weeks to help solidify the next step. I have an MRI on Monday and mammogram on Wednesday and plans to likely meet with my surgeon the week or so after to formulate a plan. At this point, the lump that started this whole thing can likely not even be felt (I think I may be imagining where it is or feeling the biopsy scarring?) so I am actually looking forward to knowing how these scans compare with the ones from before treatment. On the other hand, there is a term that I have learned in listening and observing others who are dealing with cancer – ‘scanxiety’. I can tell you it is real. That fear of what your scan MAY show. This is going to be a real part of my life from now on. There will not be a time when I DON’T need to keep ‘looking’ for this cancer to start regrowing or picking up somewhere else. This can obviously cause some anxiety. I appreciate your prayers for all to go well. I know not all of you pray and I appreciate hearing you are thinking of me during this time. I do not feel scared or anxious, but realize that there is always the potential for scans to find the unexpected.

This time, I will not be praying for a specific outcome. Instead, I am praying that whatever the outcome, God will use it as a building block, building me into a person prepared and equipped to be a blessing to those who will need it, when it is my turn to love and support them.

The post Not to worry, I am still here – first appeared on Even The Hairs of Your Head.

Although this really felt like a setback, it was truly a blessing to be able to enjoy time away not feeling exhausted and unwell. I was able to hike a bit of the coastal path, walk with the kids to the park, and even walk from Anstruther to Pittenweem one morning, bringing back yummy hot chocolate treats for everyone (except dad) from the Cocoa Tree. For all of this I am incredibly grateful.

Making the most of it –

Mom and Dad are now on the short end of their time here. True to the usual, Mom is trying to shoehorn all the ‘last visits’ into the time left. We are glad they have been able to get across to visit after so long away and that they put up with all the extra hassle inserted in this particular trip with COVID testing on both ends and having to add an extra leg to the journey. Tomorrow will involve checking back in on my blood tests, last visit to the Balgay cemetery, then packing and final goodbyes before getting them on the road to Edinburgh, ready for an early am departure Friday back to the US.

Lots of moving parts –

So, there is a lot going on in the next 48 + hours. I cannot imagine my chemo would be called off 3 weeks in a row, but I know now it is a possibility. Prayers for an acceptable White Blood Cell count MUCH appreciated. The plan going forward will be for my chemo to be at a lower dose. Not gonna lie here, I would much prefer the highest possible dose even if it means feeling worse, but this is what has to happen to keep going in hopes of keeping the WBC count at an acceptable level to continue. So, what is needed is the perfect balance of enough chemo to continue killing cancer, but not too much to keep me from getting the chemo.

And the results are . . .

I started this post on Wednesday and was waiting for a few pictures to add to post it. Today is Thursday and I had my blood drawn. Even earlier than I would have expected, I saw a 01382 number calling my phone. Well, the WBC count over all is improved, but my Neutrophils are still too low. Chemo has not yet been called off, but I will have my blood checked again in the morning. They only need to show improvement and I will be able to go ahead with chemo – keep the prayers coming!

The post And yet another delay – first appeared on Even The Hairs of Your Head.

Well, last Friday should have been treatment 5 of 12 for PC. The astute among you will have caught the ‘should have been’ in that sentence. Since my first set of pre-chemo bloods, they have been a somewhat routine and monotonous exercise that just had to be done before receiving chemo. Somewhat like a door to open to get in that when you turn the knob, you always found to be unlocked. That is until Thursday. I will admit to becoming a bit complacent with the routine. I had spent the past 4 months hesitant to plan anything. I didn’t want to book anything, even for a couple of days as ‘you never know’ if things would continue to go to plan. But, with the idea of having my parents here and my children off school for their half-term holiday, I went out on a limb and planned a days ‘away’. I say ‘away’ in that having to present to the hospital every Thursday and Friday keep me on a pretty short tether. We were planning to leave from chemo on Friday and travel north for a weekend in Johnshaven, close to where mom and dad met (Edzell) and where we lived for a time (Inverbervie) – back before I can remember, but have now been hundreds of times in stories, slide shows, and in the flesh. Well, Thursday afternoon, the nurses in the chemo unit called to tell me that my white blood cells were 0.1 too low to go ahead with chemo on Friday. Now, I had been quite fatigued during the week, but well otherwise so I found this a bit surprising, then frustrating, but then I chose to see it as liberating. Although I am still not certain if this means everything will be pushed back a week or if I will just be missing out a week, it was nice to feel a bit less tired, and able to enjoy our weekend. So I have had a chemo ‘holiday’ as well. Tomorrow is bloods day again and though I am hoping all is well to go ahead, I realize that means I will likely feel more tired for our next outing to Anstruther.

We actually only live a 30 min drive from Anstruther so initially it seemed a bit silly to go there for a holiday (I am just realizing that I am typing in my British accent here – for those following me from ‘stateside’, please insert the word vacation for holiday). Anstruther is a see side fishing village that we have generally gone for a max of a few hours, but in terms of a place to rest, relax, and just have some fun together it will be perfect with the bonus of not being too far from the hospital for a run in on Friday morning (again, making the assumption that those pesky WBCs will have made it back to an acceptable level).

Now on to more blood – the red variety –

Since starting the weekly treatments, I have the unwelcome issue of at least daily nose bleeds. I suppose it is one of the blessings of having to have a break from chemo that this has stopped. Additionally, the last two cycles of chemo had resulted in a fever during the night that resolved by late the next morning, but meant a sleepless night. No Friday chemo meant no fever and sleepless night. Here’s to silver linings, right? I was glad to not be feeling the effects of a recent chemo infusion and feel up to enjoying time away. My sister, Angela will often comment on her ‘soul’ being here in Scotland. It is in places like this (Johnshaven, Inverbervie, Dunnottar) that I most feel what she is talking about. In fact, I couldn’t resist sending her a pic of Dunnottar captioned ‘saw your soul today’. Here are a few more pics to show some of my happy places.

The place it all began –

On our way home, we traveled through Edzell and were determined to get some photos. Although it is no longer a military base, the guard shack where Dad first saw Mom is still there. I can sometimes wax a bit philosophical and think about all the details that must fall into place for certain things to happen. I suppose I get this from my Dad. He has written down a good deal about all the pieces that had to fall into place to bring us all the where we are now. It is too lengthy to mention them all in this post as I believe at present it is taking the form of a novel. However, I will mention it involves my Grandad’s service at Shipdham during WWII and a photo of him taken at Edinburgh castle while on leave (kilt and all), dad’s decision to enlist in the Navy, choosing the only MOS that would place him in Scotland, and my mom accepting the invitation of a friend to travel from Dundee to Edzell that fateful night. So many ‘what ifs’ in the story that could have sent it on a much different trajectory. I know some that are reading this will see these events and choices as random or perhaps even put them down to ‘fate’, but I can clearly see the hand of God guiding and directing all along the way.

So what then about cancer? Where is God’s guiding hand in that? It may sound absolutely absurd, but I can say that I have never felt more at peace or encouraged than in this current chapter of my own novel. I know this may be hard to understand, and is actually somewhat difficult to explain, but I am encouraged to know that God has a plan in this. There is so much more to me than this physical body that has so much imperfection. Sometimes, it is necessary to take away a bit of the overconfidence that is placed in ‘good’ health to clearly see the things that are so much more important than the tangible, monetary, and temporary. My prayer through this and hopefully going forward is to take time to invest in what will last.

The post White Blood Cells and Bloody Noses first appeared on Even The Hairs of Your Head.