Extreme God - February 16, 2009

To My Dear Friends:

There are many "extreme" sports in the world at the present. Extreme meaning to take something that is already difficult and find ways to make it more difficult. It used to be that when we were in extreme situations we tried hard to find a way out, now we make a sport out of it. I have been in a few extreme situations that I thought I would not survive: an emergency landing after the prop broke on a private plane I was co-piloting; a fourteen mile trek in a blizzard to get a group of Boy Scouts out of the Sierras; a hundred and fifty mile dash down Lake Powell in front of a tremendous storm. None planned, but all necessary for the survival of someone, others, or me. That, to me, is completely different from an extreme sport where you choose to put yourself in great danger or discomfort for entertainment. This makes no sense to me.

I started to think about this when I realized that my friend Christian and I decided to do some "extreme" gardening Friday. I have more than a hundred roses of which most are trimmed for the next year. About thirty still needed trimming and Friday was the only day we both had to work. Clouds were looming, the temperature was 42⁰, and the winds from the west were between 10 and 25 MPH. We worked for one and a half hours, came in and thawed out then worked another half hour. Thankfully, God made it rain and we were forced to quit. Soon thereafter, it snowed. We warmed with soup and considered it a day. About three hours later, the sun came out and the wind stopped. I called Christian to see if he wanted to work some more. For some reason, he said "no." I was glad, I didn't either.

A friend of mine, Jordan, will start some extreme chemotherapy soon to get his life back. It won't be fun and will draw from every part of him and his wife to complete it. Cancer is an extreme disease and takes an extreme treatment to overcome it. It is not a sport. As I think of what Jordan will go through, I think of my own history with chemotherapy. There were some extreme times. Times I thought would end my life long before the cancer would. The hardest times were the second treatment for each bout; after the effects of the first, to go back and do it all over again was extreme. I understood that it was voluntary, but I also knew that it was not. My choice was not like Christian's, simply to choose warmth and comfort over biting cold and wind. It was more like staying in the Sierras and dying or walking out and freezing. The choice was no choice and yet I still had to make it each time.

I could not have made that choice to go back for more chemotherapy without the faith I have in God's provision and the desire I have to live as long as possible with my husband, Lee. These two driving forces allow me to face the challenges of this cancer.

God's provision took a little getting used to. I think I thought of God's provision as doing my bidding. Instead, it was to meet my needs. I thought God should keep me from pain, kill the cancer, and heal me with the chemotherapy. God, on the other hand, kept me from dying, reminded me of His love, and encouraged me with friends while I was in pain and the cancer was possibly dying. He has not healed me. In the long run, He has driven my faith deeply into my soul. Though not unshakable, I am sure of the promises of this great God. He does not let me fall and He does not leave me. He also does not coddle me. To do so would leave me with less. He is too good a father to do that.

My desire to spend more years with Lee gets stronger the further we go into this journey. Lee and I have learned the deepness of love. We have truly become one because of this journey. He has been part of the worst and yet has had to sit out what he could not experience, possibly a worse fate than experiencing it. I have the greatest admiration for him. He is also the optimist. He sees the good when I am seeing the bad and does not let me wallow in the slough of despair. I truly need him and I want to spend more time enjoying this relationship. For that reason, turning down different treatments is not an option.

Currently the treatments are tolerable. I take an oral chemotherapy daily. It has a few side effects but Vicodin easily controls most. Six weeks ago, we doubled the dosage, which increased the side effects. However, the increase in Cytoxin, the chemotherapy, has made the tumors shrink slightly and removed some of the side effects that came from the tumors themselves. I find that if I stay consistently medicated and eat small portions, that most of my days are good and I am "normal." There are still flare-ups and my blood levels are dropping. We will have to make some decisions in soon about how to combat the anemia. Whatever chemotherapy I am doing has to stop at some time to allow my body to lose its toxicity. When I am off the chemotherapy, the tumors grow. The seesaw is a little discouraging but I have now gone through 4 years with little break in treatment. Every year is a gift.

The doctor's plan now is to manage this cancer so that I will have many more years. There is still the chance that tumors in my abdomen may decide to grow without our knowing it and cause my death; then again, they may not. This is not where my focus is, however, it is on living each day well and loving those around me. We all live with the same threat. Lee and I have consistently prayed for God's intervention in controlling the cancer. He has answered those prayers and is doing exactly what we asked. Praise God!

Thank you for your prayers. My life is good right now because of you. Your faith has sustained me for many years. Even though things look good, days can be hard with metabolic changes and pains that come from nowhere. Please continue to pray. Please pray for my friend Jordan. He truly needs healing. Thank you.

All my love, Marj.