“O Lord, my allotted portion and my cup, you it is who hold fast my lot. For me the measuring lines have fallen on pleasant sites; fair to me indeed is my inheritance.” Ps 16(15)
Dear family and friends,
Okay, it’s been a long time since my last post almost a year ago in March. I can’t blame it on COVID, any exciting cancer stuff, fleeing California, or any of the things you usually hear from people who drop back into your life after a long and unexplained absence. Sorry.
My last post was about a seizure and an ambulance ride. After that, I restarted infusions every two weeks to try to prevent brain tissue swelling and more seizures. You might recall that, going back a couple years now, I’ve sometimes been accused of doing less than a great job of keeping cancer handled like the pro that I should be by now. Okay, guilty as charged, but sometimes this cancer punk has a mind of its own. What am I trying to say? There have been two times since last March when I was in a car with a friend or a coworker and they took me to the ER to get checked out as possibly having a seizure. One of the times it was another grand mal seizure like the one I eventually got around to mentioning in last March’s smart-alecky post about abdominal pain and other stuff no one asked to hear about. This more recent time, they checked me out in the ER and I was home in a few hours. I even worked the next day.
Let me say something that probably should be obvious here. After a couple years of dealing with brain tumors and learning how the little jerks operate, then having a couple new seizures, the thoughtful cancer survivor might suspect something is up. I apparently am not as thoughtful as I thought. Because today I got the radiology report from last week’s quarterly brain MRI and was surprised to learn that I have a little growth in 3 brain tumors that had been keeping a low profile.
Could this explain the two more recent ER trips, as well as the fact that I’ve been having migraines for several months now? I’m no doctor, but I’m going to guess that’s actually an affirmative, and Ghost Rider buzzed the tower without permission.
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| If this cancer is as cocky as Maverick, I’m going to need a whole new approach |
Okay, so I’m catching on. We don’t know what this report of tumor growth really means, but we’re meeting with my doctor on Monday, and I think the next steps in the plan will be one of the following:
- Radiation treatment(s) if the tumors appear suited to it. The key obstacle would be that if it turns out they have previously radiated the same area, they can’t radiate that area again.
- If no radiation is possible, maybe wait and see.
- If wait and see seems too risky, maybe a more aggressive surgical intervention.
- I suppose there’s a small chance there’s a clinical trial of a novel medication, but I doubt it. Oncologists got together a while ago and decided they didn’t want to send a bunch of experimental drugs past the blood-brain barrier. That can cause swelling, which I know for sure is a no-no in brain-related matters.
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| I admitted to being able to see settling this in a street fight. |
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| Worth being tired of cancer. Every day is a joy. |
Praying for you as always. I was "blindsided" by the cancer beast in March 2020. I'm cancer-free currently, but not under any illusion that it means it's gone forever. It could mean that, but it also means vigilance forever. I also beg God daily (as I'm thanking Him for keeping me healthy) for as much "more time" as He will give me with my family. And for that time to keep working on myself, and to do whatever work He wants me to do here on earth. I pray that your meeting with the oncologist goes well and that they have a solid plan for those pesky tumors.
I'm a year into fighting a chronic disease, not cancer, but something I'll have the rest of my life. It can be exhausting and dibilitating. I can relate to the "emotions" you described and appreciate your honesty and perspective and cheerfulness. You're in my daily prayers. It sounds lame, but hang in there.
I’ve never stopped praying for you and your family…you, Kendra and the kiddos are a joyful, lovely bunch!🙏😊
Thank you and be assured of my prayers for you.
Thank you for the prayers. You'll be in mine, too.
Thanks, Katie. I pray for your family daily.
Jim – we haven't met but I have followed you in your battle with cancer. I am your mother-in-law's first cousin and I was hoping to meet you and your family at Anita Pharr's 100 birthday celebration in Memphis. Unfortunately, due to the pandemic I didn't make the trip to Memphis (I live in Columbia, MO). I have been praying for you and your family and will continue to do so. Hoping for some good news from your doctor on Monday.
Hi, John. I am grateful for the many thoughtful prayers that pour in from the Bennetts. Sorry we didn't get to meet in Memphis. It was a great celebration. Some other time! Praying for you, too.
I am also on the cancer ride (breast in my case), and I truly appreciate your last paragraph comments
"Cancer makes me more concerned for others, more forgiving of the things that annoy me about people, more focused on what would make people happy, and the list goes on. I don't recommend getting cancer. But I can recommend some ways to let it change you for the better if you get blindsided by it."
Yes, it really does. Your words are a good reminder to look for the gifts that come with using a cancer diagnosis for God's glory.
You will be in my prayers for God's grace through all your treatments.
Sandra S.
Thank you, Sandra. I'll be praying for your victory, too.
Goodness – I don't have cancer and need to behave more like you and will strive to take your attitude.
Well…if you think you need to act like a cancer patient, I'll just leave that to you. My advice would be to stay away from the "cancer" part of "cancer patient."