Last Sunday my sermon shared an update on my health along with some lessons re-learned while in the hospital.

It is amazing how God can use even the craziest of mishaps to help remind us of what is most important.

You have permission to laugh.

 

Catching Up

My last post was on May 24^th.

There has been much I have wanted to share with you. The problem has been finding the energy and time to sit down and write.

I am still undergoing treatment. We are in what is referred to as “maintenance” mode.

My treatments now run on a three-week rotation. Avastin via my port on Monday, followed by two weeks of oral chemotherapy. I get one week off, and then we start all over again.

I do have scans coming up in a week or so. Dr. Saroha and I will look at those images and make a decision as to how long we will continue this round of “maintenance” chemotherapy. At some point, a body just needs a break. It feels like I am near that place in time.

Continuous “Improvement”

I worked for a fortune 500 company during my time in North Carolina. During my six years there the plant started a program to encourage continuous improvement.

The Kaizen program encouraged employees to identify ways to improve the work process, lower cost, increase productivity and profits. At one point each employee was strongly encouraged to submit four Kaizens a year.

If memory serves me correctly your active participation in the Kaizen program was reviewed when it came time to talk about raises.

Being Kaizened

After a year or so people were simply searching for ideas to submit to get “Kaizen credit.” There were a few great ideas, some good ideas, and a ton of ideas that while meeting Kaizen criteria added little to no value to the daily workflow.

In fact, some ideas made your job harder. They added additional steps to a process that were not necessary.

We started referring to that reality as being Kaizened.

Sticker Shock

My last trip to the oncologist brought all the horrors of the Kaizen program back to the front of my mind.

As the nurse ushers me to a room I am required to stand upon a scale. For five years chemotherapy has left me largely inactive so my weight is not trending in the direction I find encouraging. Each visit is a reminder that I am not the person I once was.

As I approached the scale this last visit I noticed something new about the scale. There was a bright blue sticker on it. Without paying it any attention I stepped right up. Standing on the scale it hit me, the sticker read “Please Remove Your Shoes.”

Half under my breath I muttered, please remove your shoes?

My nurse chuckled and said, yes we will get that next time.

Being the inquisitive type I had to ask, “so what is up with the sticker?”

She replied, they want to get the most accurate weight possible, so the powers that be are asking you to remove your shoes before you get weighed from now on.

Off to the Races

Well…my mind went off to the races.

I had to ask my nurse…

• The most accurate weight would be me stripped naked…how long till I am going to have to strip naked each time I come to visit my oncologist?

• A pair of shoes weighs two pounds at most…why not simply subtract two pounds from the weight you get when people stand on the scale with their shoes on…save people the trouble.

The thoughts just kept coming…

• Have you seen the people who come into this office? How easy do you think it is going to be for them to take off their shoes to get onto the scale? What happens if they fall over? These rooms are not very big. I am not very steady on my feet. Now you want me to take off, and put back on my shoes?

• How much longer do you think each appointment is going to take? I am one of these people, we do not move the fastest. Putting on my shoes is one of the hardest things I do each morning. It takes deliberate focus and energy. Sometimes I sit on the side of my bed for ten minutes getting ready to complete that task.

• Whose idea was this? Do they ever come into the rooms and interact with patients?

At this point, my nurse was laughing uncontrollably.

She continued to check my vitals as I looked at the sticker on the scale.

Watching her disinfect the blood pressure cuff I had to ask…

• Have they given you a procedure to disinfect the scale after people step on it without shoes on? I am not sure I want to be getting on that nasty old thing…who knows what kind of stuff people have growing on their feet.

Not My Advocate

I asked if she was going to mention any of my ideas.

My sense is that while she cares deeply for me she will not be pushing my concerns up any corporate ladder.

Sitting alone in the room, waiting for the doctor all I could think was here I am Kaizened again.

One Day at a Time

Let me share with you how this simple saying works so well in helping us navigate life.

Last Thursday evening I spent time putting together a post speaking about my cancerversary.

After preparing it for posting I chose to let it “sit” overnight so I could review it one last time with fresh eyes before making it public.

My Original Post

This time of year holds some significant anniversary highlights for me.

On Sunday, May 4, 2014, I accepted the call to serve as the pastor of First Baptist Church of Kennett Square.

Early May is also my cancerversary.

Sunday, May 1, 2016, was one of only a handful of Sundays I have missed due to cancer.

I was in the hospital as the doctors tried to figure out why I was having a hard time breathing.

• Tuesday, May 3, Dr. Sarhoa told me I had stage IV colon cancer.
• Thursday, May 5, I was in surgery getting my port put in.
• Monday, May 9, was my first chemotherapy treatment.

A lot has happened over the last five years.

Anniversaries are moments to be still and remember the journey. To give thanks for each piece of the road you have traveled.

Early Fears

I have found myself in a very reflective mood as I think about the fears and concerns of those early days.

One of my early disappointments was not being able to do all the outdoor projects Nancy and I had in mind. Over the past five years, we have taken care of our initial list and even added more. The way we work together is different. I serve as supervisor and consultant. Nancy does most of the manual labor. I step in and work for as long as my body will allow me and then mutter something about not being the person I once was while I resume my role as supervisor.

Five Years of Treatment

It took me a moment to capture all the treatment I have been through over the past five years.

• Four rounds of systemic chemotherapy
• Microwave ablation
• My hepatic artery pump

Putting it all down on paper was a bit exhausting. Maybe this is why I feel like I need a nap most afternoons? [Read more…]

While every day is significant, Friday was especially important. We reviewed scans and made adjustments to my treatment plan moving forward.

I met with Dr. Saroha (my oncologist) following a CT scan to see how my cancer was responding to treatment.

The past few weeks have been very hard for me physically.

If I am honest, some of the most challenging times of my entire cancer journey.

I have been extremely weak, get tired easy, and mentally struggling to function at a level I find comfortable. For example, I missed two ZOOM meetings last week. I slept right through them. They were on my calendar. I reviewed my calendar in the morning, and yet as time neared for the meetings, I was so tired I slept my way through the meetings. That type of behavior is not part of how I function. Missing meetings like that is a sign that I was not doing well.

My Latest Scans

The good news is that things are “stable.” I am learning that stability is good. It means the cancer is not progressing. When you look a little deeper into the report, there is a reason to feel even better.

We did this scan about a month early. It was time to make decisions, and we needed the information it would provide. Typically we would have waited a month (or two more treatments) before the scan. Because we were doing the scan early, I was cautiously optimistic about what we would find.

It appears that the main mass we are monitoring is shrinking.

LIVER: Redemonstrated heterogeneous hypodense lesion in the RIGHT hepatic lobe, measuring approximately 6.5 x 4 cm, previously 7 x 5 cm. No new suspicious lesion.

The Art / Science of Scans

A few things Dr. Saroha has taught me over the years:

• A margin or error exists when it comes to these measurements. There is no way to ensure that the different radiologists measure from the same place as previous scans.

• The personality of the radiologist comes through in the reports. Some people offer summary conclusions. Others are detailed focused and feel it necessary to share everything they see.

All of this results in there being both a science and an art to comparing scans.

No matter how we look at these results we are excited about what they mean.

Moving Forward

So what does all this mean moving forward?

As we met with Dr. Saroha it was clear he had a plan. In classic Dr.Saroha form, he presented two options.

Option 1: Take a complete break from treatment – a total focus on the quality of life

Option 2: Enter maintenance chemotherapy – balance quantity and quality of life

It was evident by the way he presented it which one was his choice.

While it is always my choice, his advice has been essential and spot on these past five years.

We selected option two and agreed to start a season of maintenance chemotherapy.

A New Season

Historically maintenance chemotherapy (yes, I have been in this place before) has meant very little change to my treatment plan. We would drop one of the more aggressive drugs and continue my schedule for as long as I could handle it.

This time we are trying something new.

We are removing Irinotecan from my treatment routine. Irinotecan is the drug that carries the most aggressive side effects in my current treatment.

I will continue with Avastin but we will change the schedule. Instead of every two weeks, we will push it to every three weeks.

At the same time, we will add an oral chemo pill. That regimen will be two weeks on, one week off.

My New Schedule

My new schedule will look like this:

Week 1: Avastin and chemo pill

Week 2: chemo pill

Week 3: A week of rest and recovery

Then we will start all over again. We will continue this as long as my body will permit me.

One of the most exciting things about this new plan is that we can easily adjust the treatment level by adding or removing pills based upon how my body is handling the treatment.

Dr. Saroha warned that some people find the side effects of chemo pills to be more significant. Time will tell. If I have learned one thing these past years, every journey is unique, and you will never fully know what to expect until you are in the middle of it.

It has been some time since my last update. There has not been much to share. The past five months have been about enduring and pushing through this round of treatment.

Thank you for your continued good thoughts and prayers.

God is Good All the Time… All the Time God is Good!

 

Here is something to brighten your day.

 

I am nearing five years of my cancer journey.

As I write these words it sounds incredible, almost impossible.

To be honest there are times when I ask myself why I have been blessed to respond so well to my treatments.

Before you go saying something like, it is because of who you are, or what you do, your connection with God, or your service to others…resist that temptation.

There is little to no truth in those words.

I know of many gracious, generous, humble, kind, deeply spiritual people who have lost their battle with cancer.

The truth is I do not know why I have been blessed to respond to treatment the way I have.

I am constantly aware that if I was living in many other places on our planet, even within this country, I would not be writing these words today.

For some reason, this is the place God has me. For whatever reason, I am responding to treatment. So, we will push on and do the best we can to make the most of every moment God provides me here on this earth. [Read more…]

March is National Colorectal Cancer Awareness Month.

A few months back the people at Hope is Alive reached out to me. They wanted to do a story about my journey. It seemed fitting to have it go live during the month of March.

If you are interested, you can find it here: Hope has arrived: Finding Joy Amidst Cancer