February, 2006

Tuesday, February 28th.  We have taken an unintended vacation from these updates, which does not mean that we have ceased to be grateful for your praying for us.  Thank you for continuing to pray for Christie and our baby.  Over the past week, Christie has, on the one hand, continued to struggle with periodic stomach issues and nausea and fatigue, and on the other, has experienced a gradual return of her energy and some fairly good days.  Her sister Cathy and our nephew Tyler spent the whole week here. We enjoyed being with them and I had many an invigorating political discussion with Tyler.   He happens to hold that the current presidency is one of the greatest threats to freedom and reason in the developed world.  I, by contrast, don't.  As a consequence we wrestled--as the Tick says--braino a braino over that and other pertinent socio-political items of interest. 

The third installment of chemotherapy happens this Friday.  They will check to see if the port still is not functioning.  Though there has been trouble with the port, when we think about how bad the side effects of these treatments could be, we are reminded of how much we have for which to thank God.  Additionally, it is encouraging to think that this is the halfway point for this type of chemo.  And, furthermore, there is the the shining hope on the horizon that in just about 12 weeks we will get to meet this still unnamed baby girl.  I would greatly appreciate your prayers for Christie's stomach and her next chemotherapy treatment and for our baby and our baby's birth.  Also please pray that there would be no more cancer to be seen in my wife's body when they finally get to do the MRI after the baby is born. 

Christie wanted this picture posted so that all the world could see that we have the most considerate girls in the world.  Why are they considerate?  This Sunday they all participated in the ski races at our local ski hill that were part of the end of the year carnival.  The amazing thing is that although each child was in a different age classification, they all managed to gather second place ribbons (as is shown in the picture).  How could they so carefully time their turns so as to finish second in their respective races and thus each match the others' achievements?  I am unable to explain.  But they did it, nonetheless.  Any girl can win a race; it is the greater woman who can strategically and purposefully come in second. 

Monday, February 20th.  I love this time of year.  It is getting so dangerously close to Spring and that is the best season God devised.  Just last Wednesday, in the early morning, I heard an actual Robin singing in the top of a pine tree in the neighbor's yard.  Why do birds sing?  Who teaches them their songs?  What music do they hear that we can't yet?  He had to be frost-covered and shivering, but he zealously flung his song into the air, and it certainly said something like, "God rules the earth and heaven and, as He decreed, Spring is hastening her steps and is soon to appear."  I know that is what he was singing.  How else is it that such small but sturdy creatures can create such warm and bright music on ashen gray days?  As Thomas Hardy said about the Darkling Thrush, in his poem:

So little cause for carolings  
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things  
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through  
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew  
And I was unaware.

By God's grace, we know that hope of which the Robins sing. 

Speaking of hopeful things. Christie had her blood draw today and the levels looked remarkably good.  Thanks be to God.  Her stomach is creating some pain and angst and we are trying to figure out how to help that.  This has occurred before as a symptom of other pregnancies but it is definitely more pronounced this time.  It is likely that whatever bothers it (besides this growing human being inside her who uses her stomach and all other internal organs as available targets for knife-like foot and hand jabs) is aggravated by the medicines that she is taking.  Yet, overall she has had a good weekend.  In fact, yesterday she spent the morning at church and the afternoon at the local ski hill watching her kids ski (and take lots of jumps).  In addition, Aunt Cathy and Cousin Tyler came over from Bellevue to spend the week with us.  It is hard to think that President Bush would get a bigger reception from our daughters than Tyler and Cathy. 

To the right you can witness the latest antic of the three year-old.  One morning last week, Dahlia Prenderby (the cat) strangely jumped up on the picture window ledge and started telling us how badly we had treated her.  At least one young  Turnbull decided to take some form of pity on her and console her in her troubles.  I am not sure that Dahlia really perceived her love through the double-pane glass.  It almost looks like a visitation at a feline penitentiary.   

Thanks a lot for praying for us. 

Thursday, February 16th.  Even though today has been a moderately rocky one for her, the days since Christie's second treatment (last Friday) have been miraculously good.  She experienced no nausea during the usually difficult first four days in this cycle.  She had great energy.  She slept well.  She got lots of flowers for Valentine's Day.  Overall, we are very grateful for the way God has made this second round so manageable thus far.  Thanks a lot for praying for her.  Thank you, too, for your cheering notes to her this week.  Thanks for the books and the care packages and the gifts. 

I do the double-take sometimes when I look at Christie when she is doing well--as she has been doing this week--and the idea that she has cancer and is taking chemotherapy seems like a made-up story.  She does look quite pregnant, which is exciting.  She also looks like she is trying to match me crew-cut for crew-cut, except that hers is significantly shorter and patchier.  But it is somewhat surreal to think she has (or had) cancer.  It is like reading about an earthquake in Antarctica. It seems five stages removed from real life.   But then, even when she is feeling poorly, our lives have become adjusted to accommodate her health challenges so that even bad days can almost feel normal.  In a certain way, that is a good thing. God has made us infinitely adaptable creatures (this is not a promotional advertisement for macro-evolution or punctuated equilibrium or any other such temporary fashion of science) and I marvel at how persevering and patient my wife is with the many sizeable and permanent changes that have occurred in her life.  Of course, we still feel like pineapple upside down cake turned right side up, but we really have begun to adjust to our new life.  That is a credit to God and His daily gift of strength and grace. 

On the other hand, I certainly don't want to institutionalize cancer as part of our lives in the bad way. The best part of my wife's health crisis is that it has put us into a very real crisis.  And the good thing, according to the Bible, about real crises is that the people in the middle of them get to be humbled in the good way and get to see their own smallness and, by contrast, God's majestic greatness.  So while I wonder at God's mercy to provide for us enjoyment and encouragement and normalcy in the midst of this time, I also trust and pray that He will not cease to use this hardship to continually wake us up to the reality of the life that is much longer than this one and to the truth of the words of David that God's "lovingkindness is better than life."  In a real way, this cancer is God's prickly gift to the Turnbulls to give us something much greater (get ready, this is hard to believe) than materially rich, comfortable, manageable lives.  May God use this (and every trial He allows everyone of us to walk through) to allow us to escape the narcotic, drowsy sleep of materially-saturated, personal comfort-oriented living and to breathe the rarified air of truth and beauty and goodness.

Saturday, February 11th.  As many of you know, Christie's second chemotherapy treatment was administered yesterday.  There were two great frustrations for her husband.  First, due to unanticipated circumstances our kids could not go to a friend's  house for the afternoon and so I spent the day with them and missed being with Chris.  That was completely unpleasant.  Second, (and even more unpleasant) was the fact that Christie's port still did not work.  It flushes faultlessly.  However, it will not allow the nurse to draw blood.  In the overall view this is an inconvenience, but at this moment, at this altitude, it is an exasperating mystery.  As you may know, installing the port was a full half-hour of the surgery in November.  It only worked once (after coaxing) for her first treatment and it has been a nuisance since.  I have prayed much for that port to work, and I know many of our friends have, too.  So here's what I think about it.  I think I am super-frustrated! AAAAAHHHH!  I also think that God knows exactly what is going on and that He is at the very least using this port to help me trust Him more earnestly and to learn to relax and surrender again my wife's needs and the progress of her treatment into His hands.  It would be ridiculous, though tempting, to lose all perspective over a measly port, given the many ways He has demonstrated His involvement and care for us over the past few months.  Also, I clearly remember that He has told me and everyone else to "rejoice always, pray without ceasing, [and] give thanks in all things, for this is God's will for [us] in Christ Jesus."  That is as clear as crystal.  At a time like this the question is, will we obey Him? 

The beautiful thing about yesterday was how God provided in the midst of frustrating circumstances.  Though I could not accompany her, two good friends spent almost the entire afternoon with Christie.  She was positively encouraged by her time with those friends and that is a direct blessing from God.  And though the port malfunctioned, the nurses were able to give her the chemotherapy via an I.V. that was started and worked smoothly.  While it is better for Chris (according to our understanding) to receive her chemo through the port, this nevertheless worked and will have to be the system until the time when the port can be replaced.  I still refuse to give up praying that the port will work next time.  However, He deserves great praise for granting this second treatment to go well.  Thanks be to God. 

In the 24 hours since her treatment, Chris has slept well and had lots of rest and has not been nauseated.  That, too, is a blessing from God. 

Meanwhile, the search for the finally authenticating name for little-girl Turnbull still continues.  For some reason, one of my latest suggestions--Cleopatra--did not make my wife's short list.  I'll have to keep thinking.  Maybe something like Nefertiri, or Bodaciea? 

Monday, February 6th.  Last Friday we spent a big part of the day in Wenatchee trying to figure out what is awry with Christie's port.   Late last week the port was causing some significant discomfort and the doctor wanted to take a look.  Well, taking a look at something under one's skin means an x-ray.  And it also means injecting a dye into the port to be able to take pictures of it.  We have become professionals at asking the crucial question: "Is that [place drug name here] safe during pregnancy?  What is the safety rating of that drug?"   After what took great effort to persuade the Radiologist to communicate with Dr. Pitts (uberObstetrician) about the safety rating of the dye, Christie had several x-rays.  The good news is that the port looks good and has no blockage or kinks or strange appearances.  The disenchanting news is that the baby had to have her mom's upper torso x-rayed which makes her mom uncomfortable about baby's safety rating.  Also, the port continues not to work like it should.  We continue to pray and ask God that he would provide for this small but troublesome issue to be resolved. 

In other news, the author of this website has been sick.  Now I don't usually care that much about a cold, but my wife is having chemotherapy and has a (thankfully only slightly) depressed immune system and naturally I  do not want to be the bearer of bad germs.  It looks like I am pulling out of it and that although I have actually kissed the lady, she seems to have weathered it well. 

I want to use this space to thank every single person in our valley who has made dinner for our family.  There is no possible way for you cooks to realize the extent of the boon you have given to my wife and children.  To get a sense of what I am trying to say you need to imagine how horrifying it would be to be a Turnbull child left with no culinary option other than to eat whatever foodstuffs Dr. Frankenstein produces by way of mad science in his laboratory.  In the kitchen I turn into a crazed lunatic, incapable of using such rudimentary tools as measuring cups and oven controls.  You have helped--no, rescued--no, ransomed--six children and their mother from prandial torture.  Thank you for your generous gift of great food. 

Finally, the quote of the month came last week from our three year-old.  She was peering over her mother's arm as her mother was perusing the pages of a home furnishings magazine.  As the page flipped and stopped she announced: "That's Judge Alito's house."   Christie was sure she had heard her amiss.  She asked her to repeat what she had said.  Our little girl confidently pointed to the furniture in the picture and simply stated again: "That's Judge Alito's house!"  How is that for judicial awareness in a future interior decorator? 

Wednesday, February 1st.  This was another landmark day.  We went to Wenatchee for an ultrasound to see how the baby is thriving.  As you might assume, we have been praying for that person  persistently and specifically that God would shield him or her from the effects of chemotherapy.  The other purpose of this ultrasound was to discover what brand of child this is.  The older Turnbull children have been looking forward to this day for several weeks.  Our eldest has been as certain that this baby is a girl as she is that dogs are God's best creation.  As it turned out, she was right.  (About the baby, of course.)  After the ultrasound technician checked the heart and brain and measured various dimensions to compare with the gestational age, she told us that our baby is a girl.  That's right, the Turnbulls are having a girl!  The best part of the whole thing was seeing that this little girl looks good and healthy.  Note the raised hand in the photo. It appears as though she knew there were hundreds of friends praying for her, and so she waved.  Of course, now we get to select a name for this child and we have already used our five favorites on her sisters.  To that challenge we add the natural desire to choose the finally authenticating name for a baby who must endure what she is enduring. Stay tuned for that announcement.  Thank you for praying for us.  

 Tuesday, January 31st. Christie trekked to Wenatchee yesterday to have her blood drawn and to meet with Dr. Smith, our oncologist.  As it did during her first chemotherapy treatment, the port would not allow the nurse to draw blood.  After several attempts to try to get it to work, she had to give up and they took her blood the old-fashioned way.  This is somewhat distressing.  My wife seems to be handling this with much more patience than I am.  This is probably a minor matter, but the great thing about having  red hair is that it gives one a pretext for blowing small things way out of proportion and having a cataleptic fit over them.  Fortunately over the years I have learned to moderate my Panic-Alert Knee-Jerk Response and pray first (usually).  So, we had a good, earnest session of prayer about the port yesterday.  The thing that concerns me is that it is within the realm of possibility that if the port continues to malfunction Christie will have to have another surgery to replace it.  However, Dr. Smith assured her that there were a few other tricks to try before that would happen.  I have calmed down since then and am trusting that God is in charge of this relatively minor thing and is going to work it out.  Please join me in praying about that.

There was some good news yesterday, too. In fact, it is remarkable news.  The reason Christie has to have her blood drawn ten days after each treatment is to check her blood levels, particularly the white count.  This part of the three-week treatment cycle is supposed to be the low-point for blood counts and, as a natural result, a very low point in Christie's energy.  Amazingly, her blood counts were relatively strong and she had excellent energy.  In fact, just to prove it, she made bread yesterday. We thank God for His kindness in giving her strength and in granting her grace through this first cycle of chemotherapy to be doing so well.  Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; for His lovingkindness is everlasting.  Give thanks to the God of gods, for His lovingkindness is everlasting.  --Psalm 136:1-2