WOW! What a Ride!

I'm not one for roller coasters. In fact, I stay away from them because I have a tendency to get vertigo, or something really similar that keeps me dizzy for days afterward. So, for me to describe the last 26 days as a wild ride is to say that I have not really enjoyed it, my stomach has lurched regularly, and I am just now adjusting my sight and clearheadedness.

Jim did indeed go to our family physician. He was anemic and was just a drop or two of blood away from needing hospitalization. Our physician ordered a colonoscopy instead. Amazingly, a wonderful gastrologist had a cancellation and we went to that appointment 5 days later. The procedure showed a cancerous tumor in Jim's colon that was so large, the doctor could not get through to see the back side. It needed to be removed immediately. The question from the doctor was, "Do you have a surgeon?" My first thoughts were, "Let's see, I have a hair stylist, a barber, a butcher; and I even have a personal trainer, but, no, I don't have a surgeon." Anyway, this doctor knew a good one, and...God is SO good...he had a cancellation for a consultation and surgery the following Tuesday. But before we could go to the surgeon, Jim had to have 2 pints of blood, which he received on Thursday.

On Friday, the surgeon wanted us to have a CT scan to see what was behind the tumor. That afternoon we were able to get right in to radiology and have that done. The surgeon's nurse called us later that afternoon with the news that the tumor had spread and was showing lesions in the liver. That news hit like a bomb shell, and our roller coaster ride began to plummet, taking mine and Jim's stomachs with it.

We were in the hospital on Tuesday morning, and Jim was back in a hospital room, minus about 12 inches of colon and 1 tumor the size of a baseball. We stayed in the hospital for 1 week and 1 day. On the last day we met with our new doctor, a hematologist/oncologist. Again, the previous surgeon asked if we already had one, and our answer, again, was "Huh?...Uh...no." So they hooked us up with the best there is, and one they felt would work great with Jim's personality. (Another whole blog will have to be devoted to Jim's personality)

As soon as Jim is completely healed from the colon surgery, we will begin chemotherapy. This demon has developed a mass in both lobes of the liver, and there is a suspiciously enlarged lymph node. So, the battle will be carried out through the blood stream.

Okay, that is the nitty-gritty. Let me tell you the smooth stuff. Jim and I? We serve an amazing God. Right off the bat (baseball-size tumor?...bat?...), God impressed upon me the verse from Psalm 23 that says, "...yea though I walk THROUGH the valley of the shadow of death..." not to it, but through it. We are claiming that as an indication that Jim will pull through! God has known about this since before we were formed, and he began taking measures to see us through it a long time ago. Like, last year, just because Jim and I are getting older (did I say that word?), I decided to take out a small cancer policy. This year I did not sign up for a teacher intern in the fall, but one needed a cooperating teacher, and I was that person. This young teacher came into my class from day #1. She's been able to pick up where I left off each time I've had to be out with Jim. Our doctors have been amazing, and we believe God has directed each and every one of them to us. Jim and I have grown so much closer to each other spiritually, and as a result of that, each of us has grown closer to God.

We realize that we "have people." There are so many people from our church, my school, Jim's job, and our community who have prayed for us, send us notes of encouragement, called us, and have made visits. I have not cooked one meal since we came home from the hospital, and there is no stopping "our people." They have said they are in this for the long haul, every step of the way. Wow! Amazing! We give ALL of the glory to God!

Finally, our girls. They have had a really strong dose of Reality, and it has tasted as bad as the orange-flavored Triaminic I used to force them to take when they got the croup as little girls. but, they have been such blessings to Jim and me. Their strength has bolstered our spirits, and their weaknesses have given us reason to take our minds off of us and place our energy into praying and caring for them.

We've entered one valley of this ride, and we are climbing up, up, up, to the top of the next hill. I can hear the clankity clank of the metal wheels. In just 17 days, we're going for the next tumble when the "port" is placed in Jim's chest, and the chemo-cocktail (I'm not a drinker, but that does not look like the correct spelling) is administered. All I can say is I'm holding tightly to Jim's hand, and we are hanging on for dear life to our Awesome, Righteous, Merciful God!

See ya on the upswing!