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.

Top Ten Things I Did Since My Last Post

1. Didn't die of cancer!!



2. Didn't play soccer once, but saw my first "pro" game while in Phoenix.




3. Completed 7 months of treatment in Tempe, which resulted in my liver and lymph system getting the "all clear". Unfortunately, the bone mets continued to grow and spread. Quickly. And I met some life-long, fabulous friends at the clinic there. Amazing people!





4. Became a proponent for medical cannabis and started using it for pain.





5. Drove back to AK with the family, hitting some scenic spots along the way, enjoying ourselves quite a bit.





6. Started using a walker to help me stay upright and balanced.





7. Had my mom visit for three months after I got out of the hospital (for pain and infection). She was such a help to us all. We haven't had clean laundry since she left. Ha!





8. Made plans to head to a clinic in California for treatment but instead got rushed to the hospital here for three separate infections in my blood.






9. Instead of Cali, we went to the Philippines for treatment and I am now recovering from that long trip and intense treatment, but certain (as was the Filipino doc) that the cancer is gone.



10. Still reeling from pain but getting closer and closer to my new "normal" with each day. Doing lots of pool exercising and learning to take baby steps in my rehab. I lost lots of muscle tone and strength last summer while dealing with horrific pain, but I am moderately determined to get back in shape.


My story is not over yet! Not by a long shot!
Oh, plus I made it to one more birthday the 'experts' told me Id never see. Yippee!

Leaving on a jet plane

Well, we have certainly had a busy few months. Today is no less busy as we pack for at least a 4-month stay in Phoenix. Many of you know what's going on but many of you don't. I will update again soon, but wanted to take just a few minutes to describe my state of mind today as we are embarking on this new phase of treatment.


I feel like we are heading off for an extended vacation. We live in the cloudiest, rainiest place on the continent and now are blessed to be heading for temps around 86 degrees with sunshine and clear skies every single day. How amazing is that? How excited are we? Very!


Yes, there are some elements of the unknown, but this is our next (not last) best shot at ridding my body of this cancer. I believe that God put this clinic in my path at this time for a reason and we are going to see if that reason is because God's cure lies therein.


For now, I am feeling pretty good. I played soccer last night (which was a blast!!) full well knowing that I may have some substantial pain today and tomorrow as a result; today, I have no pain. We get on the airplane this evening and I may develop some pain, but I have long since decided that playing soccer is worth the pain to me. I only hope I can help with all the luggage and carry-ons as we make our way South.


Thanks for checking in. I hope to see you here again soon and often.

kickin' up the vegan path

Well, well. It has been a very long time since I've blogged. Can't imagine anyone (certainly not everyone) is still checking in, but for those who are, I've got some news.




Since March 2013, I've been having blood drawn every three months to be on top of any abnormalities. Each test, my tumor markers have continued to go down. Slowly, almost imperceptibly sometimes, but definitely heading in the right direction. Not always as quickly as we'd like to see them go, but still, they were merrily heading down, which is were we want them to go. Almost to zero if we can get them there.




They were.




The first week of June, the test showed the markers have doubled since my last test on March 1.




Now, this is not automatically terrifying. For one, we don't know why the numbers went up. This could be due to many things and we haven't ruled out any of them. Some culprits are (in the order they come to my brain): faulty or botched test; cancer cells have congregated and formed into another tumor; my diet and stress level were both awful for the three-month period and the numbers are showing the effects.




Another thing, the numbers are still in a relatively normal range. With these numbers, I still wouldn't be diagnosed with cancer (again). I'm still doing fine, but possibly something is changing and we want to know now before I can actually see and feel a tumor like last time.




My gut instinct is that it is diet- and stress-related. And here's why-




In April we put our dog down. That was just brutal. She was not even two years old, but she was aggressive and we ended up deciding that she wasn't safe to even give away. She was such a danger to others, particularly little children, that in the end we made the heart-wrenching decision that she needed to be destroyed. Our daughters were wracked with sobs, having to lose this good friend. They saved up their money for our 'dog fund' for years and to have it end this way was so overwhelmingly awful. It was hard for them to go through and it was physically agonizing for me to watch. This was the very same puppy we got just ten days before I found the original tumor. This dog, Keta, was with me through it all, such a loyal friend, and just a sense of comfort to me when I couldn't do anything but pet her soft ears and smell her puppy-ness. I grieved so hard for her (and still do a bit). So that was pretty much all of April.




In May we got another dog, who we just love. His name is Doc and he's such a floppy loveable goober. But again, having a puppy is more work and worry. I've not been sleeping well and am up several times a night to take him out and make sure Hubby gets enough rest to get to work in the mornings.




Also in May and so far in June, we have had lots of visitors, which let's face it... even though it is a joyful blessing to have company, it can hold its own anxieties and stressors. I'm so very thankful our families can come, but without my being stridently mindful of requiring less strain on my healing body, I'm sure I've gotten a little too hassled and worried about minor things like clean towels and dog hair in the soup.




So, with that backstory, here's what were aren't doing about funky test results: panicking.




Here's what we are doing: We'll retest my blood on July 7. Until then, I'm going to stick unflinchingly hard to my vegan diet with all my supplements, and I am going to exercise often, sleep well, and be mellow - not stressed.




Once we get new results (on my hopefully healthier, detoxed blood), we will see where the numbers are. If down, we're good. I just will know for certain that even organic potato chips cooked in avocado oil are not okay for my body, and I will continue my strict diet. FYI, I slid off my healthy eating a little bit during that time, too. More meat and fats than I know I should have crept back in, but still no dairy and very little sugar or gluten. And we were/are still all organic.




If the new test results are up, even further than this most recent test, then we'll head down for a bone scan and see what's what. Even my healthy eating will likely not combat those numbers so strongly that they would rise in the face of a fast-growing tumor.




I would welcome your prayers. Stay tuned....

Another Anniversary to Celebrate

It was one year ago today that I was recovering from my double mastectomy. Of all the treatments and decisions over the past year, this is one that I don't regret one bit. After all, not everyone can say they lost almost seven pounds in a day and a year later have kept it off, right?

Last year, the six weeks or so just after the surgery were easily the hardest, darkest period of this cancer journey. We were making hard choices with questionable information coming from many sources. We were facing the fact that I would likely not survive for very long at all. There was pain in all shapes, there was anxiety, so much uncertainty.

Now, today, we have embraced that uncertainty as just a way of life. It is after all a fact. None of us - no, not one - knows when we will breathe our last breath on this earth. We live in the immediacy of that fact and it is a gift to be able to do so.

This season I pray and hope and wish you that awareness of our short time here. Make every day, every hour, every moment count for something. Even it counts only for rest, for contentment, for ease and tranquility, take each precious instant and just be aware that we wont get it back. Even if it is not perfect, not wonderful, not amazing, at least make it not wrong, not awful, not bitter.

God bless each one of you this Christmas season. May He work in beautiful and mysterious ways in the lives of your families to remind you that He is the only certain Thing we have.

On the banks of the might Missouri

Happy One Year Anniversary.... very happy!

Well, it was exactly one year ago today (Sept 10) that I was diagnosed with stage 3 NCIS breast cancer. Just last Wednesday, Sept 4, I had my port-a-cath removed. This chapter in my/our life is over yet the lessons and gifts will remain.

Seems almost unreal that a whole year has passed, or that only a year has passed.

We have come so far.

We have learned to value our health.

We have learned to honor our bodies as the temples they are, seeking to serve God more completely with our vitality and strength and energy, those things that result from good nutrition.

We have made so many memories, done so many fun, cool things... things that at one point I never thought I'd get to do.

We've come face-to-face with death and embraced the concept, the reality, that each of us four will die away from this life and that one of us will be the last to go. We've talked about how sad or joyous or bewildering or upsetting that will be. No matter how great and deep our reliance on our Lord, even Jesus wept when Lazarus died. We too will weep.

We've prioritized. We are living so much more fully in the present that it is sometimes hard to get too irate about dirty socks on the floor or dishes not washed or dogs not walked.

We've regained focus and energy. We are motivated to do as much as we can without wasting a minute.

We've learned that family is precious and that friends are amazing, some of them so much like family that we treasure them as such.

We've learned that people want to help and we need to let them.

We're reminded that running is fun, exercise is essential, and good is contagious.

And finally, we've learned that broccoli isn't so bad. Really!

shrimp with BROCCOLI and other yummy veggies

SO good!

Apparently Annie's Cheddar Bunnies are also good

fresh-caught rockfish - yum

sunny iceberg

seastar and Amy

Can you see that little harbor seal sneaking up on the seagulls? He was just cruising by that iceberg looking for trouble.

These pictures are from our recent trip to a cabin several hours by boat away from us. It was an amazing, magical place.

Thanks for continuing to check in here. We've had incredible weather this summer so blogging has been at a minimum, but it's still a joy to be able to share.

Please feel free to share this blog, comment below, or ask questions.

Breaking News!!

(from KINYradio.com...)

Six year old girl is 11th in unofficial Derby standings
A six year kid is in 11th place unofficially in Juneau's Golden North Salmon Derby with a 20.6 pound King.

Amelia Lockwood, the daughter of Greg and Jenni Lockwood, said her fish pulled out a bunch of line before she was able to reel it in and her Dad netted it.

Along with her Dad, the 44 pound angler was fishing with her 9 year old sister Gwen, a cousin, and her grandma.

The total prize value for 11th place is $1,232 which includes $500 cash. There are also several prizes for the biggest fish caught by kids 13 and younger.

Amelia isn't sure what she's going to do with her winnings, but we could tell she was thinking about it.

Amelia will also get the Kid's Trophy.

She'll pick up the trophy and her other winnings at Award's Night beginning at 7 p.m. Thursday at Centennial Hall.

 

Jody Hass is the unofficial winner with a 29.2 pound King.

And We Did Tri Again

 

Greg and I completed our second sprint distance triathlon this weekend. Greg had some loftier goals than I, so I actually accomplished mine.

Goal #1: don't scratch... check
Goal #2: don't die... check
Goal #3: shave 10 minutes off last year's time... check

Three for three! Yippee!

_________________________________________________

So, here's a description of the race from the official race site: www.aukeman.weebly.com

"Race Distances: 750 meter swim in Auke Lake (wetsuit is mandatory), 19K bike, and a 5K run."

My Canadian readers will not have nearly the trouble with these distances as will my fellow Americans. The conversion for the swim equals about just over 820 yards or about .47 miles. The bike ride is almost 12 miles and the 5K equals about 3.1 miles.

Just about 15.5 miles total.

I completed (not "competed", mind you) in just over 2 hours. 2:07:58 in fact. Last year's time was 2:18:40. Not too shabby for a 43-year-old, couch potato-ey, stage 4 cancer patient! I bet losing that cantaloupe-sized tumor and the 40+ pounds in the twelve months between races clinched the staggering ten-minute difference.

Okay enough bragging, even though I am clearly very pleased with the results and my race.

What ingredient is thus far missing from my race summary post?

Anyone?

Yes! God's unfailing faithfulness and healing! His awesome might and power to protect, inspire, and receive my praise!

During our sermon at church Sunday, I had an entire blog post come into my head. It was a bit of a struggle to simultaneously listen to Pastor Matt as well the voices in my head, so I wrote as much of my internal musings down as I could and I'd love to share them with you now, er, tomorrow, er, SOON.

The official race results will be available on that weebly site also sometime soon, I hope.

For now, enjoy some photos of the race... 

I passed FOUR people during the swim! Woah - unheard of!

My official time out of the water was less than what this shows. Those huge clocks are SUCH a great help to gauge my progress. Someday I may get my own sports watch so I can figure this kind of stuff out myself. But for now, I just enjoy the ride and thank whomever puts these clocks out on the course.

I just about dumped my bike over in the transition area. I should have put my helmet on first but the giggle moment was well worth it. I've learned not to take myself too seriously during the Aukeman. And to chuckle at every opportunity!

Greg's epic finish!
The guy behind him is a 25-year-old co-worker who just couldn't combat Greg's unexpectedly swift final sprint.

The last few yards of the 5K were a little hard on my swelling fingers, so I was massaging the fluid out while I walked up these cruel, awful, demonic switchbacks. Our nephew Trevor snapped this one and the next as the kids were all waiting and wanting to run with me to the finish line.... that was the plan anyway.

Here's Gwen, happy that I'm almost done. I've just about crested the hill to the final stretch.

When I saw the clock, I instantly began sprinting like I've never sprinted. I wanted to make the line in under 2:08 since last year's time was 2:18:??... I wasn't sure what the seconds were, so I knew I HAD to get there in under 2:08. The poor kiddos were left in the dust, but I DID beat my own 2:08 buzzer!

 

Yay! 2:07:58! Next year I'm going to crack the 2-hour barrier.

Greg and the girls are so darn encouraging and cute!

 

Blood Test Results...

...are NORMAL! Not only that, they are more normal than they were three months ago when I was told if I hadn't already been diagnosed with cancer, I wouldn't be newly diagnosed based on those fantastic numbers.

So, yeah, these new numbers are lower than great.

AWESOME! We. Are. So. Blessed!

If you are someone who has ever prayed for us, thank you so very much. Both Greg and I feel very confidently that God led us to this solution and healing, that He is pleased we are healthier, eating mostly the manna He has provided. I don't know where we would be if we hadn't found this "crazy, irresponsible, alternative" method to cure this cancer. I imagine I'd have either died of the chemo and radiation by now or at least I'd be a very, very sick mom these days.

As it is, I'm enjoying the calm weeks before school starts as well as a little rest before the AukeMan Triathlon on Saturday. (Goal: Finish without hurting myself and with a faster time than last year when I still had the newly-discovered but yet undiagnosed tumor.)

Regardless, the prayers and intercessions you have made on our behalf have made a huge impact, a huge difference. God has answered our prayers! He had taken this sickness away and made something very good and very beautiful grow in its place.

May God's grace and healing come to you in whatever way you need it, right now, today.

God is so very good!

Blue Mussel Cabin

Well, I'm pretty certain that there are some fun excursions I'm forgetting to add, in between my last post about Sticky and this one. But these pictures are so great and we had so much fun that I am preempting order in favor of chaos and joy!

Okay, so to get to the Blue Mussel cabin we first drive out to Echo Cove which is at the very "end of the road" in Juneau. It's about 40 miles from our house. We took a 12-ft inflatable raft with a 5-horse outboard and loaded way more than we needed into it, plus ourselves and the dog.

Off we go!

The weather was sketchy as expected, but some sun was peeking through.

Home Sweet Home for two days and nights.

Saturday morning we took a hike to a meadow about a mile away from the cabin.

Lots of interesting trees, rocks and vegetation along the way. Giddyap!

Skunk cabbage and Amy.

Fairly fresh bear scat. Hmm.

Gwen named this 'Thunderstorm shelter rock" which was kind of odd since we live in Alaska where thunder is very rare.

In front of the meadow, there was a huge tidepool for a wealth of exploration.

Sea urchins on the march.

Amy's hermit crabs are fighting for dominance of the palm.

Since my lymph node removal surgery, this is how I hike.
I look like a Gomer Pyle-esque POW.

Might I also add that the exact pose I need to maintain to keep the fluid from pooling in my finger and wrists is the same one I use to praise God for this life I live and enjoy? I am often marching through the forest singing at the top of my lungs! :)

At the cabin, someone left me a bit of luxury to enhance my stay.

Beautiful views surrounded us. This is a mountain on the north side of Berners Bay called "Lion's Head".

Nope, that's not an eagle. It's a dragonfly! There were hundreds and hundreds of these guys flying all around, keeping the other biting bugs away. We never used a drop of spray to keep us from getting all' ate up'.

We could have, however, used some sunscreen. The dog is demonstrating how difficult it was to find some shade.
Good Keta.

Sunday morning, I woke up to Greg and Amy snuggling on the picnic table overlooking the water. Precious!

The girls had their own loft to sleep in. Here they are yelling, "Photobomb!"

So, there's a lot of emphasis in nature photography on waterfalls. What about the poor "landfalls" or "sodfalls"?

We could hear dirt trickling all night long.

Patootie!

Greg and the girls took a hike above the sodfall on Sunday morning. What a lovely way to honor the Sabbath day.

Greg engineered up a seasaw after Gwen found the wood and the rock and the idea.

Here's Gwen with her "cancer ribbon". She was excited to share this picture on the blog.

While we did not see any bears, we spooked one out of its bed after our Saturday hike. On Sunday, the dog was doing this brown bear imitation in the rocks.

We think Keta (rhymes with cheetah) was a little sick on this trip what with the vomit and other issues. She is better now that we're home but still lethargic. Maybe she's as wiped out as we are! It's a lot of work to go camping all the time!

All packed and loaded up, waiting for the tide to come in so we can launch. We must've looked like the marine version of the Beverly Hillbillies! :) Gwen's cringing from the sun - we're not used to it in our rainforest!

Two girls happy to be heading home, but also happy with yet another Alaska adventure!