April, 2006

Sunday, April 30th.  Over the past six days our kids have had many adventures thanks to some very kind friends who love our whole family.  On Monday, while Mom and Dad were at the hospital for Christie's transfusion, Lin drove them back from Wenatchee and happily spent the evening with them.  On Tuesday, two ladies and their husbands concocted a day camp that could not and will not be equaled in this time/space continuum.  They titled it "Camp Run-A-Muck" and the day included making T-shirts, swimming in the river, roasting hotdogs and marshmallows and playing miniature golf.  And all that is just a sampling of the activities our kids got to enjoy with these friends.  Then Mrs. Gross took them for an afternoon to play in the woods near her house on Thursday and on Friday the Goehners invited our family to their orchard for a picnic and smores.  Finally, yesterday morning, Lin walked over to our house and took all six of them over to the schoolyard to play on the swings and slides.  To all of you this week (and many others over the past months) who have loved our children during this different season in their lives: Thank You!  

Christie continues to feel markedly better than she did before the transfusion.  Although she still battles some very significant heartburn and stomach discomfort and often has difficulty sleeping, she has more energy and is fundamentally improved.  Thanks to the Lord for His provision and for your prayers.  We are happy to have you continue to pray for her and her many symptoms and for Isabella.  The birth is likely just three weeks away.  We would appreciate you praying that Isabella would turn herself in the right direction in time,  and we are asking God to provide that it will be a natural delivery.  To recover from a C-section in the short hiatus between the two types of chemo seems like a tall order (particularly with compromised white blood cell levels) and we are hopeful that Isabella could be born in the "easier" way.   Please note the use of quotation marks around the word "easier" in the previous sentence.  For any of you who have given birth and for those who have not but have some kind of familiarity with the reality of the biblical prediction that "in pain," Eve would "bring forth children," you will recognize that there is nothing especially easy about delivering a baby into the world.   But as Christie often says right in the middle of being nauseated during her first trimester or in the middle of not sleeping much during the final few months, "Oh, well, it is such a short suffering and such a glorious outcome."  She bears all of this pain valiantly and with a sincere appreciation for the privilege of being a mom again. 

Let all who seek You rejoice and be glad in You; let those who love Your salvation say continually, "The Lord be magnified!"  Since I am afflicted and needy, let the Lord be mindful of me; You are my help and my delverer; do not delay, O my God.    --Psalm 40:16-17

Tuesday, April 25th.  What a day yesterday was.  I began to be quite concerned about Christie's well-being on Sunday and resolved that on Monday morning I would call the doctor to express my worry.  Monday came. I called.  They were happy to see her, so she and our ten-year-old went down to Wenatchee in the late morning to meet with the oncologist's assistant and to have a blood draw.  The results were disturbing.  Her red and white and hematocrit levels were more depressed than ever.  It was clear that Chris needed help and so they scheduled a transfusion for the middle of the afternoon.  Meanwhile, I was bringing the rest of the clan down the valley so that we could all go to the ultrasound to see if Isabella's growth was up to the predicted extent.  All ten of us (including the ultrasound technician) met in the tiny ultrasound room and watched the monitor with great anticipation.  This was the really great part of the day.  Isabella shattered the charted levels.  By God's merciful grace she even looked wonderfully large (for a 32 week-old) and, as the technician stated it, she likely weighed about five pounds!  Five pounds!  5 lbs! As our three-year-old often said at the age of two, "Yay-hoo!  From there we met with Dr. Pitts and he put the baby on a monitor to insure that she was moving plenty and had a healthy heart rate.  She was and she did. 

Then we went upstairs for Christie's first blood transfusion.  The nurses were excellent and they made the whole long process quite comfortable.  Since then it has been obvious in her increased energy and general improvement that this is precisely what she needed.  As much as we did not want to have one, we are thankful that there is such a thing as transfusion to help in time of need.  We also realize that we could have been needing transfusions long ago and so we are grateful that she made it almost to the end of the A+C treatments before she had to have one.  Another thing we thank God for providing yesterday was that the soap opera relationship between the nurses, Christie and her port took a bright turn when her port actually drew blood for just the third or fourth time.  Yay-hoo!

On a random, unrelated note, I am sending this message to the candy and candy bar manufacturers of America.  This message comes from my desk to yours.  I know what you are doing!  I am old enough to realize that Three Musketeers bars and Snickers bars don't just feel and look smaller because the ratio between the size of my physical body and the candy bar itself has changed.  It is not merely that when I was younger the candy bar appeared to be as long as my forearm and now--as my forearm has grown--the candy bar has seemingly shrunk.  It doesn't just appear smaller.  It is smaller!   This goes double for the makers of M&M's.  Not only are there probably twenty fewer M&M's per package, you have kept the total size of your packaging the same while actually increasing the width of the sealed edge, thus reducing the space left for the candies and thus giving the appearance that there is the same candy-to-space ratio.  I remember the old packages of M&M's that had so many candies stuffed in there that  one could actually just start to feel sick if one ate the whole thing.  In the old days it had a sealed edge no wider than a paper clip.  Now, one could almost drive a Matchbox car around the perimeter of the package.  It is not that these things appear to be so.  They actually are the case!  You are banking on the fact that we Americans aren't paying attention to incremental changes executed over a twenty-year period.  But you are wrong.  We notice.  You are charging more for less  and it is jading the candy-bar idealism of people like me who thought that Snickers bars were something that not only granddad, but also Thomas Jefferson ate.  If he had and he had lived long enough to see this, he would accuse you of taxation without representation--or at least cheating. 

Wednesday, April 19th.  Thanks to the many of you who have not ceased praying for Christie even with no current news.  This continues to be a very difficult time for my wife.  Perhaps her physical maladies are becoming more pronounced because the effects of the chemotherapy are cumulative to some degree, or it may just be that when one is seven months pregnant (a state I have witnessed on many occasions, but never experienced personally), one is seriously uncomfortable already, even without the added challenge of chemo side-effects.  It is likely that both factors are working in concert to make this an arduous stretch.  We really appreciate your praying for her.  It is what God provides for her endurance. 

The good news is that the phantom cough has disappeared.  Thanks be to God!  For a few nights last week Chris was nearly sleepless and we were convinced that Isabella (in utero) was making plans to vacate the place for another, quieter apartment.  There can be no doubt that the constant earthquakes and tremors had sent all of her china and her pictures careening off the shelves and that she, too, had no peace and quiet or sleep during the whole calamity.  She endured, thankfully, and is happy to keep her digs until late May.  Which reminds us that there are less than five weeks (just around 35 days) until we can greet her!  Right on! 

Unfortunately, Christie's last treatment (last Friday) was semi-dreadful.  Actually it was mostly dreadful.  Not only did her port fail to work, her IV would not even allow blood to be drawn!  Though her nurse did an exceptional job of working with Christie's veins and trying to position things so that all could proceed, it nevertheless took a long time to get it all set-up and when it finally was ready, there had to be continual adjustment.  It was a difficult day and that was coming right after a couple of trying weeks.  Since then Christie has had energy but has been subject to four or five various side-effects that come at her singly, in pairs, or sometimes in deadly trios to play havoc with her digestion, her sleep and her overall health.  She is persevering with great determination and elegance, but we are counting the days until we say good-bye forever to Adriamycin and Cytoxan. 

By the way, one thing I have learned from this last few months is that chemotherapy is simply brutal.  I am thankful that there are medicines (or poisons, actually) that we have discovered that do have deleterious effects on cancer.  Without these treatments, we would possibly just watching the cancer grow. But the philosophy of chemotherapy is of a kind with nuclear warfare.  As a bomb makes no distinctions between good and bad guys when it detonates, so chemotherapy (at least the kind we are using) merely kills fast-growing human cells.  It creates just as many casualties to friendly fire as it does of enemy soldiers.  While it is hostile to cancer cells because they are typically fast-growing, it also ruins things like hair-cells and stomach lining, etc.  No wonder the treatment can often create more conspicuous affliction than the disease initially does.  I am sure that in 100 years when we have (by God's mercy) developed more precise methods for eradicating cancer, the people of that time will look back on us and our treatment methods with the same sense of sympathetic wonder with which we look back on the "barbaric" practice of bloodletting.

 I had the opportunity to teach this Sunday at our church.  Here is the text of that message if you would like to read it.  The passage was appropriate for our celebration of the resurrection, but it was perfectly encouraging to us in these days of cancer, too. 

1 Peter 1:3-6
³ Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, ⁴ to obtain an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, ⁵ who are protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. ⁶ In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials,

So many of you are doing so many things to help us.  Thank you.  The greatest way you assist us is by praying to God on our behalf.  Thank you most of all for doing that.

Saturday, April 8th.  It has been far too long since we have written and there is much to tell.  If  you will recall the account of the stomach flu episode in our house from the last update, you will be in a position to appreciate how remarkable it is that the day after the last patient recovered  from that flu, the sewer backed up into our basement.  So, for the next 24 hours I was removing things from that part of our house and cleaning and disinfecting.  In a memorable act of bravery and heroism, our friend Tom Keziah came over to help me clean. To me, it was one of the defining moments of true friendship.  Thanks, Tom. 

It should please you to know that no other disasters of a grand magnitude have befallen our house since that time.  However, this has been, by far, one of Christie's most difficult treatment cycles.  She has been suffering from an intense case of heartburn for two weeks.  It was so bad that when she took one of those allegedly super-effective Pepcid Complete tablets--the pill that is supposed to provide relief for close to twelve hours--she felt better for an entire 24 minutes.  (She was timing it.)  (This may or may not be an advertisement for or against Pepcid.  It is likely that Christie's case of heartburn is a stiffer one than many people experience simply because her condition is further aggravated by being pregnant and being on chemotherapy.  However, if a wonder-drug was ever going to manifest its powers, this would be the scenario in which to shine.)  On top of her struggles with her stomach, she also has acquired a forceful cough that could subdue Alexander the Great with its persistence. In typical Christie fashion, whenever she contracts a cough while she is pregnant, she ceases to sleep very much due to the fact that her body would much rather stay up coughing than get rest.  The cough is almost like a hibernating bear, or a talkative cat.  During the daylight hours, it barely utters a word.  In fact, one could almost think that Christie was coughless if one were to meet her at noon.  But during the night, the cough emerges from its den and will not be quiet.  She has taken several doses of some pretty serious medicine for this purpose, but that has been ineffective.  It would be much appreciated if you would pray for her so that she could rest and eat.  Thank you. 

This past week was Spring Break for me and for our homeschool as well.  We decided to make a few outings for the sole purpose of having fun during the past few days.  On one outing, we decided to eat dinner at Red Robin.  (This is not necessarily an advertisement for Red Robin, although it must be said that their original hamburger is quite delicious.)  Now, since I don't go there but once every few years, I just did not know that there could be that many people having a birthday on the same day at the same time.  But I was very wrong.  In the course of our meal I believe that the waitresses sang their special "Happy Birthday" clapping song at least seven times.  After the first two birthday songs, our six-year-old's eyes got wider and wider with every celebration.  She could not figure out what was happening.  Did the act of entering this restaurant somehow induce rapid aging?  Could only those with birthdays on April 6th eat there on April 6th?  It was fairly mystifying.  Even more mystifying to one of our number was the acceptability and safety of the actual "Red Robin" as he or she passed through the restaurant.  For everyone in our family (save one) that person dressed up in that Red Robin suit was a cause for rejoicing and mirth.  But for the boy, this "innocent" diversion was actually a cause for terror and alarm.  Although it appeared  that his sisters were not hurt by shaking hands with the Red Robin, and although it appeared that they were laughing and enjoying the moment, in actual fact, our one-year-old knew that something sinister was lurking behind the big yellow beak.  If only he had access to them, he would have recognized the elements of a good Star Trek episode in the whole affair.  Remember how Jim Kirk and the rest of the landing party were--in many episodes--seemingly welcomed by apparently  good-natured and friendly natives on the planet's surface.  And once they allowed their guard to drop, the kindly natives turned sinister and malevolent.  Having watched each episode at least three if not five times, it is, regretfully, a theme of many of my dreams.  And now, our son was living a Star Trek episode at the Red Robin!  Well, when the nefarious Robin came over to his side of the table, he began quaking and latched onto my arm.  He threatened to cry but was too busy keeping a wary eye on the dread bird to afford the momentary blindness that crying creates.  As you might imagine, his sisters thought this was hilarious.  His mother and I were amused but also understanding.  Fortunately, the Red Robin sensed, with bird-like apercu, that something was amiss and moved down the aisle to visit other unsuspecting children.  That was just fine with the boy. 

We are thankful for your prayers on our behalf.  We are also thankful that God reminds us in His Word that even things like cleaning basements matter:

Let the word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom . . . singing with thankfulness in your hearts to God.  And whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father.  --Colossians 3:16 and 17

There are only six more weeks until Isabella's scheduled delivery! 

Wednesday, March 29th.  This was the scene at our house this afternoon.  Many of our neighbors and friends organized a raking and yard reconfiguring party for us today.  To all of you who made the outside of our house look like human beings actually do live here, THANK YOU!  It was a great gift to our family. 

In other news, Christie had her fourth treatment last Friday.  The biggest shock of the whole procedure was that Christie's port . . . actually . . . worked!  When my wife called me during the treatment with the staggering news, I could not quite comprehend it.  What a blessing from God! I still can't really believe it and I have to confess that I had given up praying that it would function again.  Another exceptional answer to prayer was the fact that her blood levels had rebounded well from the previous treatment.  That has been (and will naturally continue to be) a major concern and God has provided for her to be holding fairly steady from treatment to treatment. 

As our 12-year old mentioned in the update of the 21st (below), our one year-old son had acquired the stomach flu last Tuesday.  Well, he had it for five days and it appeared that all the rest of the Turnbulls were going to escape it.  It appeared that way . . . until Saturday night!  In one single night that has become a blurred memory of cleaning floors and cleaning products and that will live in infamy in the darker pages of the history of this family all five daughters gave hearty evidence of their having shared in their brother's affliction.  Naturally, mom and dad slept little.  But the real tragedy of the whole affair was that Christie got it on Sunday night.  That is not good for a woman so pregnant and on chemotherapy.  As a consequence, we spent a big part of Monday at the clinic where Dr. Pitts prescribed for her what Dr. Bracket always prescribed on Emergency!  She had 2000 ml of Ringers Lactate.  Even so, she has continued to feel poorly since then and we may visit the doctor again tomorrow.  As it is in so many other situations, it was our three year-old who came through with the utterance that makes the whole ordeal worth it.  Last night, very shortly after throwing up, she heard me talking to her mother about my intention to leave to go to the store for some supplies.  "Dad," she said, " I need a cheeseburger and a Carmel Macchiato." 

Saturday, March 25th. I spent a really long time writing some thoughts on the structure of the universe and where we came from and realized quickly that it really did not belong as part of  the chronicle of Christie's progress.  If you are interested, please click on this link:  On Design