We Know FWP, but WHAT is SPP?

You know when you're complaining about traffic exiting the amusement park, or when you can't decide which of your many pairs of shoes to wear with a particular outfit?

How about when we sit at the coffee shop with a $7 mocha somethingorother and whine about the WiFi being SOOOO slow?

Have you ever caught yourself unhappy with the service at a ritzy restaurant or at the clubhouse?

Or what about disparaging your 5-year-old, perfectly fine truck and drooling over the latest model?

These, my friends, are FWP : First World Problems.

We know deep down and logically that there are so many people less fortunate than us when we bring up our dissatisfaction with the luxuries of this life we live. There are even people that we know who would trade spots with us in a heartbeat. Many who wish they had our soft, cushiony problems.

Your clothes washer is acting up again? Cry me a river, which is where many third-world folks do their laundry... in a river!

The fumes from your pedicure were really strong this morning? Poor thing! Many people are drinking filthy water every day, or none at all. And then dying.

Sorry, that's a little harsh.

But it's true.

Many of you who have known me for any length of time are aware that my weight has seen some highs and some lows. Um, not that many lows, truthfully.

If you have known me since high school, or even since birth, or since I lived in Wyoming at the turn of the century (wow, doesn't that make me sound elderly?), you have seen me chubby and you have seen me kinda normal and healthy. Many of you have even seen me obese.

Today, I submit to you that I am skinny. I weigh less now than I did when I got my first driver's  license.

Thus, SPP: Skinny People's Problems!

I read a neat article a few years ago that I could relate to very well, and I never thought I would. In fact I was surprised at how relevant it was. The woman who wrote it pointed out several new developments she'd noticed about her body and how it relates to her world, now that she had lost all her weight. She had some concerns, some issues that she hadn't really experienced while she was obese. She titled her post, "Things I Miss About Being Fat". (paraphrased)

I get it!

Things like not being strong, naturally. When you are daily hefting around the bulk of your own body, you are strong from doing it. Your body is able to lift other things, and move furniture and boxes and doghouses, and whatever else needs to be moved or lifted. Now? Not so much. I can't do anything anymore. Some of that is from the cancer, but a lot of it is from simply getting too skinny to do much.


My inability to find a comfy way to sleep is my most major challenge. Now that I've slimmed down my knee bones grind together in a way that my chubby self never experienced. Solution? Pillows! Lots of pillows!! It's a complicated ritual of finding the right pillow for the right application.

But the thing I find myself most upset with is my now-inability to simply lean my elbows on my knees, while I am cradling my head with my hands. Seated position, knees bent, leaning on my legs, my elbows slip off all the time! It is annoying and definitely a major SPP! :)

If I was made of bronze, this probably wouldn't happen.

It's hard to sit normally anywhere these days because of  nerve pain in my back, so I tend to have to support my weight pretty much constantly with my arms or the walker, or by lying down.

When my elbows slip off my knees, it causes a jolt of pain that well, I just don't like. I then giggle at myself because my thinness, something I have bemoaned not having for many moons, have put countless dollars and years toward trying to achieve, is to blame for this predicament.

Definitely a SPP.

And Greg and I have an expression that we use in these situations....

"That's what you git!"

Here's a link to the story: http://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-13018/5-things-i-miss-about-weighing-more-than-300-pounds.html

I may see if I can find a before and after so you get the idea. Got any problems that you laugh at yourself about? Something you worked hard to achieve and when you did, it got more complicated than you realized it would? Let me know in the comments. And let me know if you'd rather now have it published here. No worries.

Happy, Happy Birthday....

... to the girl who made me a mom! As you can see, little sister is never far away, but big sister is twelve today! And she's about 4 inches taller than me if anyone is counting.


I can't even begin to quite convey how much I love this kid. She is infuriating and stubborn, creative and witty, lovely and kind. And in spite of me, she is a really wonderful girl. It is a joy to watch her learn and grow, especially now as she is exploring new friendships and her independence.


God sure knew what He was doing when He gave us this strong, tall, helpful kid. She has been invaluable as I struggle with cancer and all the shtuff that comes along with that. I cringe to think how this disease has affected her childhood, but am exceedingly grateful to have her with me through this journey. I often wonder what amazing adventures God is preparing her for.....

Happy birthday, Punkin!!

Idita-fever!

Well, I am plenty distracted by the Last Great Race right now.

Do you follow IDITAROD?

Oh, the drama, the excitement this year! It's incredible! And now  the top mushers are on the Gold Coast.... it's anyone's race at this point. Someone could make a crucial mistake and then someone else will slip in to the lead.... Oh  it's a nail-biter this year!

There is decent coverage at www.adn.com and also at www.Iditarod.com.

Go Jeff!!

I've Been A-Thinking

So, over the past few weeks, since we got back from the Philippines, I've been thinking about a lot of stuff. Being in the throes of cancer also tends to get the mind churning overtime.

But lately, my thoughts are centered (or maybe uncentered would be more accurate) on such a wide, diverse number of completely unrelated things. It's hard to arrange the jumble in to some sort of noticeable order, so that I can share it with any semblance of sense.

I've been through a lot. Obviously. I've been through the wringer and dragged my family along with me. In fact, just a few days ago, I asked Amy (not Amelia any longer; she will be nine next month!) if she even remembered back before I had cancer, and she said no, she doesn't. She can't recall a time when I didn't lay in bed all day with pain, asking for someone to come up and bring me food or help me in other myriad ways. Maybe that is why she is such a great helper.... She just thinks it is normal for moms to be in bed all day while the kids do the work (and whatever else they want to as long as it doesn't include chores or school).

Another thing I've been wondering... does anyone even see this blog any more? Who still checks in here? And why? What are they/you looking for? Are you lost? Or are you still checking on me and this cancer? Comment if you will and let me know, wouldja?

Philippines Details and Catching Up

Okay, I have to put a short disclaimer up here.... I am way too tired to proofread this right now but I want to get it posted so please disregard and overlook anything erroneous. Or, leave a comment and tell me about it so I can fix it. Later.

Well, we have been back from the Philippines, first international trip for both Greg and I (and probably the last for Greg) aside from Canada and Mexico, for a little over a month.

Right before we left on New Year's Eve, our Internet connection went haywire so when we returned in late January we were without Facebook Internet for several weeks. The girls and I made weekly trips to the library to stay connected, but somehow, I inadvertently gave up Facebook for Lent. I didn't really mean to.

One day, as I found myself reading Romans, I realized that if I was still on Facebook, I wouldn't have made time to be in the Word. As I was sitting in our church's Ash Wednesday service the following day (Feb 10), I was moved to jump off the Facebook bandwagon for a time. So no cat & cuke videos or fluffy puppy pictures or incendiary political posts for me until after Easter. I'm remarkably okay with that since I have been doing so many other things that would have definitely gotten pushed aside in my haste to see what updates and dramas I had missed. I never even got a chance to explain what I was doing or to check my birthday messages, but those will wait. That will all keep and I now have made some time to update my blog. It's sure been a while.

First let me just say that God does indeed work in mysterious ways, but also in what seems to me ridiculous ways, ways that are so confusing and obscure and unfathomable so as to make my head spin and my brain hurt.

As I said in my top ten list last post, we spent seven months in Arizona for treatment. We arrived there in November of 2014 and came home this past spring, making a few trips up as needed in the interim. But mostly we were down south, getting tan and getting treatment five days a week for seven months straight. I sat in the treatment room in a big fluffy recliner with some of the smartest, most inspirational folks I've ever met. I spent my days hob-nobbing with some unique and gifted individuals from all walks of life, who I truly believe were placed in my path to further my story and proclaim His glory.

Greg went back and forth every two weeks so he could work, but the girls and I (and the puppy) stayed in the sun and healed, homeschooled, and had a happy time together. We missed Greg when he was gone but somehow the vacation-ness of our adventure (read: swimming in the sun every day) soothed us and helped us soldier on without him. The Chick-Fil-A on the corner may have helped also.

So, one of the people I spent my days chatting with was a very lively, healthy-looking fellow from Northern California. He and his wife had been actively charging through their own cancer journey for several years by the time we met, and he and I spoke the same language of nutrition, treatment, Big Pharma, and crappy insurance. We enjoyed a similar conservative approach to politics and a love of sports and the out-of-doors. He was by trade a nuclear engineer, a researcher at heart, but had been downsized out of his career a few years before we met. His new career since he was not quite old enough to consider retirement, was as a financial advisor. Keep these two job experiences in mind.

When we left Arizona in May, my new friend had already been gone for a week, on to the next treatment idea in San Diego. Once we got home, he and I became buddies on Facebook (it's not all bad!) and within a few months he was telling me about the treatments that he had done - good, bad, and goofy - what worked and what didn't - after leaving the clinic in AZ.

He contacted me one day, nearly demanding that I look in to a treatment in the Philippines. He had just returned and wanted met to go. He even offered to put up money for me to start fundraising to pay for the trip and treatment. Well, THAT sure got my attention. But, what?! Go to a third-world country half way around the world, when I live right here in the good ol' U.S. of A.?! Did that make good sense? Did it make ANY sense?! We had just gotten home from Arizona where we'd incurred quite a bit of debt for a treatment that seemingly only delayed the inevitable. Even though I trusted my friend's testimony about his success, my brain was not thrilled with the thought of a long trip, nor at that time was my body even able to manage a trip of that magnitude, even if we were independently wealthy. Which we weren't. (Nor are we now, fyi.)

Plus, pain. Horrible pain. I ended up in the ER for pain when Greg couldn't get me out of the tub one night. He thought this might be the end for me. I hadn't considered that and surely (if asked) would have said that once the pain was under control, I'd be right back to normal, whatever that is. The pain was bad enough that I would have gladly accepted death at that point.

God had other ideas.

While I was on the morphine drip and admittedly out of it, Greg called my mom to let her know I was in the hospital with "10 out of 10" pain. It was bad. Lots of IV morphine, lots of moaning and crying. My mom immediately flew up here thinking I was dying, even though Greg hadn't said anything about that. She heard something with her nurse-brain and wanted to be here. She got here in late September expecting to say good-bye, but when I picked her up at the airport she was a little astounded. Should people on their deathbeds be driving minivans and doing homeschool and should they be so chipper? So confusing!

So, let me just take a quick sec to explain a few things.... my mom was a nurse for 50 and a half years! She has seen how patients respond to all sorts of medications, treatments, diseases, and they all follow a somewhat predictable pattern. Well, not me. Since I wasn't doing chemo and radiation, but rather taking a more natural approach to cancer, I wasn't doing anything the way I was supposed to be doing it. My body's natural defenses would engage one week. Then the next week, the cancer would get stronger and grow for a time. And my immune system would try to rise to the fight and I'd be feeling great for a while, then not so much, then great again. I wasn't making any sense to my mom, and we had no idea what to tell my poor brother. He wanted to come up, but he didn't want to make the trip if I was incapacitated... he wanted to say good-bye, but didn't really want to waste the money coming if I was fine.... we went back and forth for several weeks, trying to figure out how exactly I was doing. We are still not sure what to tell him or anyone else.

One thing was certain: the cancer was growing and we either needed to give up or find the next best treatment for me. My engineer friend was still pushing the Filipino treatment and we were still hem-hawing about that. In addition to it being just flat-out crazy to consider going, I had actually looked in to it enough to get some of the financial particulars and they were alarming. Not only was it all out-of-pocket and seemingly exorbitant, there was international wiring of funds that seemed super sketchy and rife with red flags. So we were firmly in the NO camp for that idea. But my friend was relentless. Polite and trustworthy, but relentless.

As Greg and I were steadily cooking up excuses for why we'd never go to the Philippines for cancer treatment, we made plans instead to head to LA for treatment, on the advice of yet another godly, intelligent, cancer friend. I needed to send bloodwork results to two different clinics/doctors there and quickly. We made all our plane reservations and arrangements for the girls and my mom, who by this point near Thanksgiving had been with us for nearly two months. The dark and rain were getting to her and we knew that even though she was a huge help, it was high time for her to get back home and dry out. I was antsy to get the blood draw scheduled, but in our small town there are not many options when I don't do pokes in my arms (for fear of lymphedema from node removal) and the technicians have to access my port. Only one nurse at our local hospital could do it so I was frantically calling my doc's office to get the orders sent. I even offered to hand-deliver them so I could get it drawn on one specific day so that the results would beat us to LA. It was tight, but we were going to make it work.

God had other plans.

As usual.

Turns out my blood work came back all wonky and instead of flying to LA, I was immediately admitted to the hospital in Juneau for three separate infections in my blood. I had no symptoms except one ---- when the infusion nurse (she administers chemo to all patients here, very experienced, and super sharp lady - she likely saved my life, possibly more than once) flushed my port with heparin and normal saline after taking blood, I got all shivery and cold... but not until about 20 minutes after I left the hospital. She just happened to call Greg with a question, and he just happened to be at home with me, trying to get me calmed down from the reaction, which was half anxiety attack and half reaction to the flush... it sounded odd to her so she had me come back for more blood, this time from both my port and each foot, to compare and see if the infection was systemic.

Well, it was. Times three! I spent two full weeks in the hospital on IV antibiotics, fighting with insurance, and watching Shark Tank. I had a procedure in my room to remove the port.

One more thing.....about 75% of the staff in our local hospital is Filipino.

What a bizarro coincidence, huh?

I spent all my long days in the hospital waiting for Shark Tank to come on talking to the skilled phlebotomists, kind nurses, and hard-working aides about the medical system in the Philippines. All of them raved about it and said it's quite a bit more advanced than what we have in the US.

Interesting, huh?

So while we were griping about having to pay spendy, unnecessary change fees to the airlines and trying to get our frequent flier miles back, God was working to direct us down a path that we thought was pure insanity.

Well, we did it anyway and I live to tell the tale.

According to my Filipino Doc, the cancer is gone. I believe him. When we got back, I had almost a month of the absence of the insufferable nerve pain that sent me to the ER and made my doc here mention hospice. I had some other pain, but it was tolerable and different from the nerve pain that no meds could touch. It was muscle pain that felt good when I stretched and moved. Where before treatment I was tentative and even scared to move too much lest I snap a bone, I was now excited and happy to be moving. Baby steps, of course, but I had a glimmer of getting back in shape and getting rid of the walker.

Just since this past Friday, my nerve pain is back so that is concerning. I'm in contact with the director and inventor of the Philippine technology so we will certainly stay on top of whatever is happening. He thinks my immune system is overreacting and inflammation is causing the pain. While some measures have helped somewhat, I've been in bed since Friday, not able to support my own weight for longer than about 30 seconds. I did get out briefly on Super Tuesday to NOT vote for Trump, but other than that I've been in bed. Watching Shark Tank.

In two months, I will have several MRIs to see if the American docs agree with the Filipino doc that the cancer is gone. Until then, there may be some additional posts here. There may not be. 

In the mean time, here are some pictures from our international expedition....

Romantic, celebration dinner on our last night on the 34th floor of our hotel.

The food was marginal, the service was pushy, and the cleanliness was missing completely. When you're not really sure if you should stomp on a large, menacing cockroach because the staff doesn't react to it scurrying across the floor right toward them, it's just awkward.

View from the elevators of Cebu City, a thriving metropolitan area of 1.4 million people. We stayed in the room a lot as we were a tad overwhelmed with the crowds. And raw sewage stench.

Cebu is on the coast of one of the middle islands of the country. We were not too far from the ocean and liked to watch the ships and ferries coming and going. We were on the 20th floor. We also got to watch the celebration and parades for the Catholic festival of Santo Nino called Sinulog. Non-stop drums.... seriously one parade lasted for twelve straight hours.

This is where Greg spent a lot of the two weeks. He did get out running errands, like grocery shopping and changing our dollars to pesos. He often was followed by a troop of homeless children because the first day out, he gave then bananas.

This is a frigid, aging spa pool that I went to exercise in several times. While the movement felt good, it was seriously chilly. And I think it gave me a rash.

Taken from a big wall of windows in Honolulu airport, where we had a three-day layover on the way. Well, not right in the airport...... we went and stayed up on the North Shore of Oahu and watched the crazy surfers. It was a nice break from traveling and much-needed to cope with pain and swelled ankles. And it was so nice to be with Greg, my love, all alone, together. He is my rock.