June, 2006

Friday, June 30th.  Last week, Isabella was the child who sleeps and eats for a living.  This week (just 10 days after her due date) she is starting to become the girl who opens her eyes.  She has begun to have some lengthy periods of alertness during each day and she spends much of that time with her eyes open as far as they will go and, though she doesn't yet have the muscle for it, she is straining to focus on the shapes and things around her.  But, probably nothing can be as eye-opening as a cranial examination performed by one's one-year-old brother.  You can see from the photo that this kind of preface to brain surgery can be so serious that the "doctor" needs to wear a helmet.  What about the poor patient?!  Regardless of the danger, mom (see her arms) is (like an attending nurse) simply watching it all happen with professional detachment. 

Don't think for a minute, however, that she can't still sleep like one of the all-time sleeping champions from ancient times like Rip Van Winkle or Sleeping Beauty.  She can.  In fact, at my birthday party last week we tried to wake her up for the 4:oo p.m. feeding as we were celebrating out at the picnic bench.  She simply refused to open her eyes or show any interest in consuming her repast. She was so tired that she very inconsiderately slept completely through my birthday party without even singing to me or acknowledging that her own father had spent a big portion of his last year of life acquiring a whole crop more of gray hair on her behalf.  This new generation just does not know how to show appreciation.  She was so drowsy that she was happy to lay down on the table. So, seizing the opportunity to eat her birthday pie before she had to feed her daughter, Christie experimented with the idea of having Isabella become a placemat.  She did not actually do so, but we thought it made a good photo to prove just how worthy she is to enter the ranks of the world's best sleepers. 

Christie's fourth infusion of Taxol took place today and went as well as it could.  Her port worked perfectly.  Last week we noted on the report that since she started Taxol several key facets of her blood count were dropping steadily.   We were concerned and have been praying about it.  This week, her blood counts showed that on one of these facets she is holding steady (yahoo!) and on the other, she only dropped by one point instead of two.  That might sound like a minor deal but we are thankful to the Lord for it.  Thanks for praying for us! 

I got to teach again last Sunday--this time on the triumphal entry of Christ into Jerusalem as recorded in John, chapter 12.  That passage shows Christ at the height of His earthly popularity just five days before He is crucified and it contains two very precise fulfillments of prophecies that were given hundreds of years before the event.  Here is the text of the message. 

Thursday, June 22nd.  Contrary to appearances, we haven't been on vacation.  Nearly everyday I have been intending to sit down at the end of the evening and issue a report on Christie and her progress.  Unfortunately, as you can see, that hasn't happened and so here is a very late update. 

Last Friday Christie had her second treatment of Taxol and Herceptin.  Her port worked, but when they accessed it, the needle punctured a capillary.  That made for an uncomfortable treatment session and it wasn't until it was over that they discovered why her port stung.  Thankfully, however, her port is continuing to work as it was designed to. 

The side effects from this kind of chemotherapy have been thus far very tolerable for her.  She does not always enjoy talking about the details of her symptoms, but I gather that they are just not as severe and that she continues to feel infinitely better than she did when she was carrying Isabella and taking Adriamycin. She has her third of 12 treatments tomorrow morning in Wenatchee. 

Speaking of Isabella, she is growing and thriving and looking more and more like her three-years older sister.  There are a couple of outfits that she is beginning to fill out and will soon outgrow.  That is a great sign as it means that she is making steady weight gains.  (Remember, this is the beauty kind of weight gain.)  When she was weighed last week she was seven and a half pounds!  Right on, little girl!  She continues to spend big sections of her days in dreamsville and it is always enjoyable and a little bit spooky to watch her dream.  Many times she smiles in her sleep, then she will look like she is about to cry or she will purse her lips as though she is going to break out into loud whistling.   The spooky part is that she often has her eyes wide open. All of that is classic sleeping baby tradition.  Here are some more photos of God's mercy in our lives. 

Because Christie is not nursing, I can can easily take the job of feeding Isabella when she wakes up hungry at two or three in the morning.  There is something about that hour that makes rational, coherent thought a challenge.  Usually it is Chris who wakes me up to tell me the baby is crying.  Then I sit up in bed for a few seconds not sure where I am.  After I manage to ascertain that I am not actually a crew member of the Starship Enterprise, I head downstairs to get her bottle ready.  My wife is always impressed with how long it can take me to get a simple bottle ready for feeding, particularly now that microwaves are on the scene and I can heat the water in there instead of over the woodburning stove.  Finally, by the time I make it back up to the crib to retrieve her, she has been crying so vehemently that my wife is hopelessly awake and our baby is in the grip of emotional trauma.  I settle her down and begin to feed her.  Everything proceeds fairly well until it is time to place her back into the crib.  Then, as though she knows I am not her mom and therefore a veritable newcomer to nighttime feedings, she begins what could be called the "Wee Hours Guess What Is Bothering Me" game.  This is the part where Dad gets to try to figure out why Isabella is wincing and sputtering and crying when he puts her gently back in the crib.  Like all game shows, I have to choose the right answer, and if I get it wrong, the game keeps going, sometimes infinitely.  Do I need another daiper change, Dad?  Or, do you need to burp me some more?  Perhaps you should try to feed me another  bottle.  Should you reswaddle me because my arms are too loose?  These options, and exciting combinations of these options, are all elements of the game.  Now the really funny part is that, after three successive nights of longer versions of the game this week, I asked Christie to try her skills at it on Wednesday night.  Instead of taking an hour and forty-five minutes to feed her daughter, like I did, she took only forty-five.  It seems that Isabella sensed that an expert had things in hand, and so decided not to play.  Hmmmmm. 

Last weekend our six-year-old became seven.  We had a great party with her grandmother (see picture).  Then, some adopted grandparents came over, two of them from Seattle, not necessarily for the birthday only, but just to be back in Leavenworth (see picture).  It was an excellent weekend with our great friends and family.  On Sunday, because Tom is out of town for some well-deserved vacation, I got to teach at church.  Here is the text of that message. 

Thank you for your continual prayers for our family.  Thank you, too, for all of the necessary and excellent food that many of you have provided for our family.  Thank you also to those of  you who have consistently given my wife flowers or gifts or encouragement.  We are making it because God is communicating His grace to us through you. 

Sunday, June 11th. The encouragement from our friends and family has been remarkable.  We have seen the people who have been praying for us literally carry out the Scriptures that admonish us to "rejoice with those who rejoice."  Thank you for rejoicing in God with us. 

Many people have asked us what precisely it means for Christie that her CT scans were clear.  One year ago we would not have known what it means.  Now we do. Breast cancer, when it spreads from its original location, travels through the lymph nodes and on into other parts of the body.  When it travels and then forms a tumor in another location it is called metastasis.  There are four places in the human body where breast cancer almost always metastasizes if it is allowed to travel: the brain, lungs, liver and bones (usually ribs).  Those were the prime areas that Christie's CT scan covered.  So, what a clear scan means is that Christie has no tumors in the places where there would be tumors if her cancer had progressed to that stage.  There is no way to communicate the relief we feel.  Actually, I can't even feel it right now.  Moreover, I can't really believe it either.  I feel I can relate precisely to the servant girl and her fellow Christians in Acts 12.  Though she and the others had been praying fervently for Peter's release from prison since they knew Herod was planning his death, when he appeared at the gate of the home where they were meeting for prayer, and Rhoda announced him, they said to her, "you are beside yourself!"  Although they were asking God over and over to rescue Peter, when He did, their small minds could not grasp it.  We, too, have small minds and this is too big of an answer to prayer to grasp.  Wow.  Thanks be to God. 

What a clear scan does not mean is this.  It does not mean that Christie does not have any cancer cells floating around in her body.  Though there are no tumors (by God's grace), there may be individual cells running around.  So, we continue with the chemo treatments (and possibly the radiation later) as the customary mode of demolishing cancer cells.  Any cells left in her body would be the potential cause for recurrence of cancer in the future.  That is what we are seeking to prevent with the same fervor that the Allies sought to prevent an invasion during WWII. 

Last Friday, Christie's new treatment regime of Taxol and Herceptin commenced .  It was a remarkable day. First of all, in preparation for the first dose of Taxol, it is standard procedure to take a steroid the night before to hedge against an allergic reaction to the first treatment.  Well, the steroid Christie had to take was the same steroid that accompanied her infusions of Adriamycin and Cytoxan back in the old days.  That steroid would usually keep her from sleeping for most of the night on treatment days.  The remarkable thing was that, though she took a sizeable dose of the nefarious sleep-depriving steroid at ten and at four during the night before the first round of Taxol, she actually slept well.  We really cannot explain it.  (Secretly, I think God had mercy on her in answer to prayer.)  However, the small wonders were just beginning. 

We arrived at the infusion room where Jacquie was going to begin with a blood draw on Friday morning.  Believe it or not, Christie did no acrobatics, Jacquie did nothing unusual, but Christie's port worked perfectly!  I know that most people would not be so terribly excited, or even write home about a surgically implanted portacath working according to specification.  But we have to.  It was another wonder to behold and it means that very likely Christie will not have to have surgery to implant another port.  Yahoo! 

The rest of the morning was wonderfully boring in a medical sense.  There were no problems or surprises or allergic reactions.  Christie received her first dose of Herceptin and Taxol and is actually feeling very well today. 

Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever.  --Ephesians 3:20-21

Thursday, June 8th.  Yesterday, Isabella visited Dr. Eisert to be weighed.  She was just one ounce shy of her birth weight!  Right on, little girl! 

This morning Christie had her CT scan.  She endured it and the radioactive cocktail she had to swallow bravely.  Thank you for praying for her.  We returned to Wenatchee this afternoon to meet with Dr. Smith to discuss the results of Christie's scan.  Remember that, aside from getting an idea of what is happening with the other side of Christie's chest, this scan examined all of the other major sites for breast cancer to metastasize: her brain, lungs, liver and ribs.  By God's great grace, like the water in Lake Colchuck or the sky on a cloudless day, Christie's scan was clear!  Let me repeat that for emphasis: it was CLEAR!  Thank you for praying for us.  Thanks to God for His mercy.

Blessing and honor and glory and power be to Him who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb, forever and ever!  --Revelation 5:13

 Sunday, June 4th.  Isabella continues to enjoy long naps and lots of nourishing sleep.  She also has taken to eating more at almost every meal, which undoubtedly means that she is doing some good growing these days.  I don't know if she is heavier or longer than she was last week, but her beauty is only growing more pronounced everyday.  Maybe that food is actually being converted into loveliness cells.  And maybe that sleep is literally beauty sleep.  Here is some supporting evidence to that theory. 

The next big event in the cancer treatment happens at the end of this week.  On Thursday, Christie has a CT scan.  This is the first scan that she has had since she was diagnosed with cancer.  The purpose of this test is to determine if there are tumors at any other place in her body.  Please pray for her on that day, and particularly about the dreaded task of drinking the contrast dye for the scan.  She is a bit nervous that she might not be able to keep it down.  Then, on Friday, she has her first treatment of Taxol and Herceptin.  This is the first of twelve weekly doses of Taxol and we are naturally wondering how she is going to react to it.  God willing, the cancer cells (if they even exist in her) will wilt under its effects.  Thank you again for praying for Christie and her family.