My heartbreak at the Third Chemo

It's time to update ya'll on my cancer progress.
I don't know why I've been avoiding this post.
It may have something to do with having to share of my heartbreak, which makes me relive it.
Anyway, here it goes.

Chemo session number 3 was brutal.
I attribute that to a few things:
1. Heartbreak
2. Anxiety
3. Bad diet and exercise (attributed to the heartbreak and anxiety)
4. No mental preparation.

One of the things I mostly pride myself during these past months of world-changing news and lifestyle was the fact that I, after battling for 30 years, had finally stopped biting my nails. I mean, I even stopped before losing Sammy and after cancer news, surgery, and first two chemo rounds.
Chemo number two was wonderful. The side effects were minimal. I got to share time with new friends, Nory and her daughters.
And then it all spiraled down so fast I found myself unable to control my urge to bite my nails during a barbecue at a friend's house infront of all my friends.

We had a terrible loss.
We had a rat visitng the garbage in our backyard. My father-in-law uses a deadly mice venom that attacks the nervous system which has no cure or antidote. He thought he controlled where the poisoned food was. He did not take into consideration where the rat would move this food.
Our dear Alee ate some and lost her life after a two day battle. I'm just happy Kaylee didn't put anything in her mouth. Can you imagine? I've since asked my FIL to change his methods to less dangerous. This is the second pet in his house to die of this reason.

At 1:00 am I woke up from her unusual barking.
I found her with my father-in-law trying to calm her. She was convulsing.
I begged him to take her to the doctor's. She came back at 2:00 am with a catheter to give her an inyection if she convulsed again.
It was reckles of me to care for her, but I couldn't stop thinking of my girls losing their beloved puppy. At 3:00 am she puked which made me really happy. After this, she started regaining strenght and even seemed normal. I cuddled her all night until at 6:00 am she convulsed again.
I rushed to wake my FIL to give her the shot. Emmalee woke up at around this hour when I came out of the shower.
"Go back to sleep, baby. It is still not time to wake up," I said.
"It's ok, mommy. You don't have to play with me. I'll just go outside to play with Alee," she replied.
My heart broke so badly.
"Alee is very sick, Honey."
I had never seen that worried look in her eyes.
"Is she throwing up?" she asked.
Poor thing still had her food poising fresh in her mind.
"Yes, baby. She is."
"I want to see her."
At this time, Kaylee also woke up and asked in her lovely toddler voice "Onsta Alee?" (Where's Alee).
I knew Alee was still sedated from the shot, so I took them both to where she lay and allowed them to pat her once.

At 8:00 am she was taken to the vet.
The vet said that if she didn't stop convulsing, he would have to sleep her. I asked him at 1:00 p,m how she was doing and he said she had convulsed two more times. He said that as long as she was sedated, she was not suffering and we could wait one more day.
I called the next day with no hope in my heart.
And then the doctor gave me great news: Alee had not convulsed since I had last called.
We could pick her up and bring her home.
I was so hopeful I brought Emmalee along to pick Alee at 1:00 pm.
At the doctor's office Emmalee did what she had always done when someone was near her precious puppy: She introduced her.
"This is my sister Alee," she would tell those entering the house with Alee jumping at them, and she did with the people on the vet's office too.
My heart was breaking more.

She loved her "sister"

The doctor instructed me to bathe her and try to get her to eat.
I gave her a warm bath and tried to feed her some chicken.
She wasn't having any, so I went to blend it to feed it with a syringe.
When I came back with the food, Alee started making a noise like a cry and threw up blood.
We rushed back to the vets. Emmalee was upset she couldn't come with.
The doctor said it was probably due to a med he had given her and gave her a countering shot.
I left feeling it was not the last time I would see Alee.
As I was leaving, she gave me this look like saying "Don't leave me." I hugged her and told her she'd be fine, that we were both going to fight and survive this.
I called at 5:00 pm and the doctor told me Alee had passed. Turns out that when I left, she couldn't breathe, so the doctor had to intubate her. When he did, she started spouting blood everywhere. She had severe internal bleeding and nothing could be done. She had died shortly after I had left.
I tried to explain her passing to the girls.
I sat them and told them their puppy was not coming back. They didn't understand.
Kaylee kept asking the following days "Onsta Alee" and Emmalee kept telling people her puppy was at the doctors, even though I kept explaining she was not and was not coming back, The girls didn't seem much affected.

It was until we went to my friend's barbecue that I knew how Emmalee felt. My friend Meli had a puppy that resembles Alee a little. Emmalee grabbed the puppy's blanket and put it around the puppy. She hugged her close to her face and whispered to the dog: "Don't eat anything bad. Don't throw up so you won't get ill like Alee."

The girls with Mely's dog October 2014

I went to the kitchen and cried my eyes out. After dinner, I couldn't help biting my nails despite my husband's complaints and demands of me stopping.

Around that time, Emmalee has been coming to my bed each morning asking me if I am sick.
I tell her I am, but that I will get better before her birthday.
To this she always gives the same reply: "And then we'll go to Panama?"
Sweet darling dreams of going to Panama. She can't see a plane go by without telling me that's how we'll go back to Panama.

I had a yeast infection, which both my oncologist and my gynecologist said would be common during my cancer treatment. I went to have it checked and used the opportunity to get a pap smear.
The test came back with an Atypical squamous cell (ASCUS) result. The gynecologist sent me the result via Whatsapp with a recommendation to get a colposcopy. I googled colposcopy and read it is biopsy to find if I have cervical cancer. I broke up in tears and panic. Crazy panic! I call my mom with desperate tone that left her worried sick. "Tell me where to go, which doctor?" I asked. She sent me the name of an oncologist-gynecologist and my husband rushed me there. I entered his office in tears. He tells me not to cry. He looks at my results and examines me. He tells me he has 30 years of experience and promises I do not have cervical cancer. He even says the ASCUS will probably go on its own and the other gynecologist should have never done the pap test with an active yeast infection. He is very reassuring, and I leave his office in peace after moments of complete despair. He will see me again before my fourth chemo to repeat the pap.

The lady at the public hospital that schedules the appointments had given me the wrong date for my appointment. The doctor's note said the appointment was for the 13th of June and she gave it on the 15th. The 15th was when I was supposed to have my chemo. Nothing could be done. I would have to go to the appointment on the 15th to get the prescriptions for the third chemo and have it moved one day to the 16th. When I got there the 15th a sign in my doctor's door read: Doctor Pineda incapacitated; go get a new appointment. I went to this heartless lady to ask what I could do. She said my doctor was sick and was giving appointments until the 20th. "What about my chemo? I should be getting chemo today!" I pleaded. "I can't do anything. Go ask oncology pharmacy," she replied as if I had told her I wasn't getting my flu med without even squinting.
I started crying and went to oncology pharmacy.
Normita, head of the pharmacy, told me not to cry because she would help me get my treatment. She checked my blood test and said I could receive chemo. She said she would get the prescriptions from another doctor and I could have my chemo right away. She even got me an appointment with this doctor so that she could write the prescriptions for my fourth chemo because it was unlikely that I would get an appointment with my doctor before that time.
I was not mentally prepared for chemo that day, though I was very happy I would not be delaying my treatment a single day.

The horror! This chemo round felt like fire in my veins. It stung badly. By the end I begged the nurses to let my husband in to tend for me. "Caress my head," I asked. He was caressing it with one hand while holding his phone with the other. "No Honey, put that thing down and caress me with both hands. My head is on fire."
The effect was immediate and relentless. For the first time since surgery we had to move the girls to sleep in my in-laws' room. My headaches and pain were so severe I was making the bed shake. When my husband couldn't find a way to comfort me or make me stop moaning and shaking, he hugged me tight and I could feel him crying.
After this, I got an infected abscessed toe for no reason, and a weird inflammation on my left arm. I thought it was lymphedema so I wore my arm compression sleeve. Turns out it wasn't lymphedema and the sleeve made the swelling worse.

I went to the oncologist-gynecologist appointment for the pap test. My mom was in town at this time and came along. He became very worried because my arm looks like bacterial cellulites. He told me I need to see an infectologist right away and I need to be on antibiotics for my toe as well. He won't be doing the pap test until I am better. He urged me to see my oncologist. I told him he is completely booked at the public hospital after his sick days but I was able to get an appointment with him at his private practice later that day. While he was talking to me, I asked my husband to go see if he can get an appointment with an infectologist in the same hospital ASAP. My husband was able to get me an appointment for 3 pm that day, but I have to be at the public hospital at that hour to see the new doctor to write my fourth chemo prescription. I begged her secretary if there was another time the doctor could see me, but she said no. I went back in with the onco-gyn who was doing a check up on my mom. When we come out, the secretary (bless her heart) rushes to meet me to tell me the infectologist will see me right away. He had finished with his morning patients early and wanted to help me out.

The infectologist happens to also have a dermatologist specialization so I beg him to treat my toe. He told me my toe was too swollen and the anesthesia would not hold and I would be in a lot of pain. I told him I didn't care; I was willing to withstand the pain. If that toe was not treated I wouldn't get chemo. He agreed to treat it. I asked Rodolfo to take off his belt so I can bite on it. I was glad I did. The anesthesia shot was terrible to endure. Mom said the doctor used plenty to spare me from the pain of draining the abscess. He did well as I felt no more pain as soon as the anesthesia's effect kicked in. He says my arm is not cellulites but an allergic reaction to a bug bite. He gives me prescriptions for antibiotics that will cover both my arm and toe.

After two doctor's appointment that day, I went to the public hospital to see the new doctor for my prescriptions for chemo #4. She was late to her afternoon appointments because one of her patients passed away. I was supposed to go in at 4 pm, but at that time she was on the patients of 3:00 pm. It's 5:00 pm and my appointment with my primary oncologist is at 6:00 pm. I beg the next patient to let me in as I am just going in to get prescriptions because she is not my treating doctor. He agrees (bless his heart) and lets me in. We make in time for my 6:00 pm appointment.

Dr. Pineda checks my blood work and my arm and toe. He says my arm was an allergic reaction but it could easily turn to cellulites. He tells me he wants to move my chemo two days back. I don't even argue with him. I did not feel mentally, emotionally, or physically ready for another round. The two days could get me closer. My heart was heavy; my body was broken. I was also able to tell him my BRCA 1 came back positive. He tells me when need not worry about that right now and I follow his advice.

It was such an exhausting day I barely held my head up to go with mom to my grandma's house to cut a cake for mom's birthday. Mom's birthday was the next day, but she was going back to Panama that day as well. She comes into my room in the morning. I am so beaten I can't hold my head up. She prays with me before she leaves for the airport. I barely get a "happy birthday" out before she is gone and I drift back to sleep. This was a Tuesday. Chemo #4 was on Friday.

I am happy to report Chemo #4 was almost as good as Chemo#2. I had minimal to cero side effects. I finished my last session with Doxorubicine and Ciclophosphamide, which possed the greatest threat to burning my arm if they permeated my veins. My right arm is aching terribly from the inside burns in my veins. I think I did better on Chemo#4 because I was mentally ready for chemo, had had more days to rest, and was recovering from lossing Alee. Also, I did more exercises and coupled it with better dieting. I will let you know of my diet in an upcoming post.

Thank you for reading my cancer journey. Thank you for keeping me in your prayers.
Please pray for a serious case of insomnia I'm experiencing right now.
Pray for tolerance to the new diet which has depravation symptoms.
Pray for some neuropathy symptoms I've been experiencing. These scare me because I will be starting my next four chemo sessions with Docetaxel and Carboplatin which are more toxic and produce more neurological side effects. These scare me the most as they take months after chemo to cure or can become permanent damage to my nervous system.
Pray for my cognitive function. I can barely think straight or remember anything.
Pray for my heart. I've been experiencing clinical depression due to being sleep deprived and from the never-ending fatigue. I am not taking meds for this as it is still not serious.
Thank you once more.

God's plans for me

It feels I've been doing this forever.
I don't remember what it felt not have both of my arms aching in pain.
I don't remember what I looked like with both of my breasts and a head full of hair.
I don't remember what it's like to yearn for more children and think they were in my future.
I don't remember what it felt being the caregiver, instead of being cared for.
And my mind is sudden to remind me it will still get worse.
Thoughts of dying keep haunting me, and the thought of recurrence and having to do treatment again has me wishing for it.

I had plans for how God was going to use me.
I wanted to be a missionary and even chose my career with that in mind, choosing a career that is very universal and mobile.
My plans changed to having a big family and homeschooling my six or more children.
We had a child in 2012, another in 2014, and were pregnant with the third in 2016. Things were going according to plan, except for some career and finantial setbacks; but we were not going to let that discourage us. After all, we walked by faith and knew God was greater than our finantial problems and would bless our growing family for His glory.
A week after announcing our pregnancy we lost my dear Sammy.
Three weeks later I found out I had cancer..

February of this year the girls and I visited my mom in Panama City. For some reason while being there I asked my mom to take me to have a mammogram done. I told her I felt something was "odd" about my left breast. She checked it with me and found nothing irregular. We decided that when I went back to Honduras I'd have a gynecologist check them because no one would do a mammogram on a 30 year old without reason. A few weeks later I got them checked in the same appointment were the doctor was informing me of my miscarriage. He cleared them.

A few weeks ago my mom came to visit me again. She was mourning that she didn't take me to get the mammogram. "We could have found it sooner and saved you from all this," she said. "Mom, God planned when we would find out. He was in control of that too. It is His plan that I go through this."

That was the first time it hit me. THIS was God's plan of how He was going to use my life. This is definitely Kara's influence in my life.
I saw a Facebook memory yesterday of me pregnant with Kaylee. I thought "That is how I should look right now, four or five months pregnant. That should be my life right now, not this. Not this."

This is how I should be.

I had a plan of how God was going to use me to spread the gospel through my work, through my children, but He was going to spread the gospel through my loss and my disease.

Would it be what I would have chosen for myself?

Oh, I think of Tony and Lois. I don't know them, but I have been praying for their daughter Giana for half a year. Giana was in a terrible car accident December 24, 2015. She succumbed to her injuries June 18, 2016. You can read her story here.

Tony has been very opened about his grief about losing his only child, his daddy's girl. The way Tony processes grief is supernatural. Here is an excerpt of one of his Facebook status which he got from the book "From Grief to Glory: A Book of Comfort for Grieving Parents":

"My love in Christ remembered to you. I was indeed sorrowful when I left you, especially since you were in such heaviness after your daughter's death; yet I am sure you know that the weightiest end of the cross of Christ that is laid upon you, lies on your strong Savior. For Isaiah said that in all your afflictions He is afflicted (Is. 63:9). O blessed Savior, who suffers with you! Your soul may be glad, even to walk in the fiery furnace, with the Son of Man, who is also the Son of God. Take courage. When you tire He will bear both you and your burden. In a little while you shall see the salvation of God.
Your lease on your daughter has run out; and you can no more quarrel against your great Superior for taking what He owns, than a poor tenant can complain when the landowner takes back his own land when the lease is expired. Do you think she is lost, when she is only sleeping in the bosom of the Almighty? If she were with a dear friend, your concern for her would be small, even though you would never see her again. Oh now, is she not with a dear friend, and gone higher, upon a certain hope that you shall see her again in the resurrection? Your daughter was a part of yourself; and, therefore, being as it were cut in half, you will be grieved. But you have to rejoice; though a part of you is on earth, a great part of you is glorified in heaven.
Follow her, but do not envy her; for indeed it is self-love that makes us mourn for them that die in the Lord. Why? Because we cannot mourn for them since they are happy; therefore, we mourn on our own private account. Be careful then, that in showing your affection in mourning for your daughter that you are not, out of self-affection, mourning for yourself.
Consider what the Lord is doing. Your daughter has been plucked out of the fire, and she rests from her labors. Your Lord is testing you by casting you in the fire. Go through all fires to your rest. And now remember, that the eye of God is upon the burning bush, and it is not consumed; and He is gladly content that such a weak (one) as you should send Satan away frustrated. Honor God now, and shame the strong roaring lion, when you seem weakest.
Should you faint in the day of adversity? Recall the days of old! The Lord still lives; trust in Him. Faith is exceedingly charitable and believes no evil of God. The Lord is placed in the balance your submission to His will and your affection for your daughter. Which of the two will you choose? Be wise; and as I trust you love Christ better, pass by your daughter, and kiss the Son. Men lop the branches off their trees so they may grow up high and tall. The Lord has lopped your branch off by taking from you . . . so that you would grow upwards, setting your heart above, where Christ is at the right hand of the Father.
Prepare yourself; you are nearer your daughter this day than you were yesterday. Run your race with patience..."

Tony is able to face such hard truths in the mist of his exceeding grief. He ceases not to seek God and glorify Him. He blesses my life in ways he can't imagine. But he would have not chosen to have his daughter's death be used for him to reach hundreds miles apart. It was, however, in God's plans.

Lately I just feel my only purpose in life is to grieve. I grieve Giana's departure as if it were my own daughter. I grieve the Syrians . I grieve the hardships my MFC Community on Facebook deal with daily: cancer, disease, death, divorce, pain... so much pain. I grieve the moms in Mommy Daily, another Facebook community, losing unborn children, infants, spouses. I cry for them all to the point I feel I am going to throw up and my heart will come out of my chest. Yet I feel I need to feel this grief. It brings me closer to being like my Saviour, Who grieves with us. If I feel my grief for strangers is strong, how great is His? He, Who knows them since they were formed, and loved them with the truest, strongest love known! This grief shapes us all and unites us in unexpected ways. It makes me grow in compassion and love for my neighbor like I never did before. 

How terrible it would be to go through this without purpose. How wonderful to have God use my loss and pain to spread His word and use me to preach to hundreds I would have otherwise never reached. I pray cancer doesn't kill me and I can see my daughters grow up, but I rejoice in fulfilling my life's purpose: to give Him glory, in whichever plan He has for my life. 

SOLI DEO GLORIA.

 

Community... in Honduras?

Really? Is it possible?

Living in the second most dangerous country in the world with two cities in the top ten for most violent cities in the world?

Please! That is something for first world countries where neighbors still get together without fear, where you have farmer markets, community fairs, and children in the same schools of the district, where people have good homes and good incomes, and do fund raisers and help each other. 

That is not something that happens in Honduras. 

Or does it?

I am overwhelmed. Overwhelmed!

How is it possible?

There is community in Honduras?!

Amongst mothers who have never met each other or crossed paths?

Who have never heard of me or know me?

Why are they rallying up to help and support me?

And in Honduras? 

It still leaves me dumbfounded. 

Meet Nory and #teamLinda SPS (SPS stand for San Pedro Sula).

San Pedro Sula is number 2 in the top ten list of most violent cities in the world. It is only second to Venezuela's Caracas. Number 2! 

How then are these mommies getting together to raise funds for a mom in a complete different city with the dangers of meeting out of their homes, with the hardship of leaving their kids with someone else or bring them along to the meetings. with their time constraints as working mothers, pregnant ladies, and/or with infants and toddlers?

Impressive moms in various TV stations.

 I don't know how they do it!

They worked hard and long.
 They made a bond and friendships that will last forever.

How beautiful is this picture of these moms praying?
 Most of them didn't know each other either before they became #teamlinda.

Busy moms making time to meet on weekends.

Celebrating in between meetings with all those kids!

They could have filled a stadium!

They thought of everything, even making this a family event.

The cool tshirts with #teamlinda's theme verse:
 Nothing is impossible for God.

All the gifts for the bingo were donations!

My new friend Mary sending her support all the way from Guatemala.
We are sending prayers for that precious in her belly.

#Teamlinda SPS left me baffled seeing how I knew none of them. NONE of them!
#Teamlind Tegus left me even more baffled.
Many of #teamlinda Tegus were also moms I had never met, but most were moms I did. What was baffling of that is that most were moms I have never had a deep relationship with.
I thought that, being Tegus my home town, the moms in the team would be my closest friends.
The friends I thought would say "present" were really not there, especially my single, non-mom friends (who you'd think have more time).
The people I thought would be there were completely absent, whereas the people I would have never thought would rally up for me where there and very present.
That has humbled me so much, you have no idea.
God has really showed me a lot through this experience.
I had left pride and prejudice (no pun intended) dominate me and my relationships and my views of others. God was so amazing to use this time to shatter that in my heart and mind and show me He is capable of using the least expected, even to be His hands and feet in my life.
I am crying as I type this.
I am so grateful when God goes ahead and just smashes my pride.
I am so grateful for the women that said "present" even when I have never been a good friend to them. I am so grateful they all did it selflessly as for the Lord, diligently for my sake.
I am so sorry I've been such a bad acquaintance (I wouldn't dare saying I've been their friend).
I hope I can make that right. I hope I can offer these women my friendship, even though I proved to be such a bad one.
I don't resent my friends who were not present. Sometimes you don't know how. And I don't know if I would say "present" for all of them. I am just eternally grateful many did for me and I am humbled deeply by that.

They got me on the newspapers too.

And looked good on TV too

My girls got to go to their first bingo.
It was the first for most of us. XD

How pretty were these?

Most gorgeous servers ever!

Check out my father and mother in law with their #teamlinda shirts.

Awesome friends and the world's best husband.
BTW, he is not wearing the designated shirt because I liked the
way he looked that night too much and asked him not to change.

I almost cried when I entered this overfilled food court. 

Emmalee got to help with the riffles. 

I got to share my story and the most important part of that story: His story.
 He filled that food court for His glory.

It had been a long time since I had the honor
 of worshipping Him before an audience. 

Thank you #teamlinda. Thank you for making #teamlinda and for putting up events I would have never been able to. I don't even start to comprehend how you did it, even less why you did it. All I can say is thank you for the love, the effort, the peace you granted me in the finatial aspects and the prayer aspects. Thank you to everyone who donated, attended, spread the word, bought tickets and shirts and caps, took your family to the events, posted photos, prayed long and hard for me, sent me messages and much love. I felt ridiculous entering that food court with all eyes on me. I felt like a celebrity, and that is just hilarious. Even my husband has been recognized a few times. A mom approached me in Pricesmart and said: "Hi Linda. We are friends... well not friends friends... from Mommy Daily." And I just went ahead and hugged her and started small talk with her and her husband. Mommies, that is so true. We are friends. YOU are my friends. You are my prayer warriors. A mom in one of the TV interviews when asked why she did all this for someone she didn't know replied "We are moms and that unites us all." Maybe that was the reason some of my friends were absent, and the ones I least expected said present. We are moms, thus we are sisters!

Thank you for living these verses:

“For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”
Matthew 18:20

Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble.
1 Peter 3:8

And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.
Colossians 3:14

Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.
Romans 12:16

Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.
1 John 4:11

How good and pleasant it is
when God’s people live together in unity!
Psalm 133:1

God was so amazing with me He brought Nory, #teamlinda SPS's head coordinator, into my life, 

We were so blessed by her visit with her beautiful daughters that my daughters are still mourning their departure back to SPS. Here is a beautiful picture of what the Lord united:

Nory with my best friends, my two moms,
and her two beautiful daughters, and me! 

Silencing lies, Quenching my anger

I am angry.
I am not gonna sugarcoat it or lie about it.
I am angry. Really, really angry!
Don't think me any different.
Don't think me any braver.
I do want to climb a mountain so I can scream at the top of my lungs "WHY!!!!!! Why me? Why now? Why cancer?"
I am angry. I am angry at other breast cancer patients.
I've had two ladies survivors of breast cancer visit me. They thought that being breast cancer survivors I could relate to them.
I don't relate to them. They just make me angrier.
My cancer came in 20 years earlier, theirs didn't. My children are not fully grown and I am not a grandma, they are. My cancer is not estrogen positive with better prognosis, theirs is. I am not menopausical, they are. And I am angry they think we are on the same boat, we are NOT.

I think of Kara, and I think maybe we are on the same boat.
But I get angry at the differences in our situations. She was 36 at diagnosis, I was 30. Her youngest was older than my eldest. She was married for 16 years, a DECADE more than I have.
As I write this, I see the pettiness in my thinking. It's a good thing to write one's thoughts down. You put them in a different light and see them as they are: LIES!
Name your thoughts by their true name.

Here are a few of the lies I've lived with:
Cancer is my constant companion. LIE!
My mind, that runs away with me, is my worst, constant companion. LIE!
Jesus is my constant companion. There you go!
Silence your lies with truth, His truth.

Isaiah 41:13

For I, the Lord your God, will hold your right hand,

Saying to you, ‘Fear not, I will help you.’

This past two days have been a battle with my lies and my anger. I want to scream INJUSTICE for getting a cancer women get in their 50s or older. And as I was screaming inside my head "injustice, injustice" I pondered on how the injustice is not to me. 

The injustice is to my mother. My mother might burry her child. My mother has to see her child suffer pain, disheartedness, discomfort, loss. No parent should have to witness that ever, no matter what age. She has been putting a front seeming strong and happy, when I know she is aching but can't show it. And who will she lean on? Who will she bear her soul to? She's been waking up at night to tend to the girls, massage my legs when I wake up in pain, wake up early to tend some more to the girls, coax me into eating and taking my meds, giving me my shots as I cringe in fear of needles, trying to get me to talk and walk and exercise when I shut her down and just want to lie in bed in self wallowing. Thank God for my mother. She knows when it's me talking and when it's the cancer. She is looking for her daughter hoping her daughter, the real one, can pull through, wishing she could do more to help her pull through, feeling powerless and useless when she is doing more than she thinks. I am just glad the girls can lift her spirit and make this time worthwhile. Yesterday Emmalee asked her why she was crying. She wasn't but she felt it was Emma's way of asking "Why are you sad?". She erupted in tears and Emmalee just padded her on the back with a "there, there." That munchkin is so special. 

The injustice is to my girls. My girls who are at such critical age in their develpment and learning are feeling my pain. I was moaning in bed from bone pain and Kaylee came running to my bedside with her barely intelligeble "Que pasha, mami? Que pasha?" (what's happening, mommy?). I told you on a previous post how she didn't let anyone other than me console her at nights. She finally lets grandma Linda console her, but demands she does it in the rocking chair. Emmalee comes into my room against protests that "Mommy is sleeping" from everyone. "It's ok, I just want to lie with her" she replies, comes into the bed and lies silently there with me sometimes caressing my bald head. How is she capable of that at three years of age? I had planned to start homeschooling in May. I had a schedule with sports on Monday, arts and crafts on Tuesday, numbers and letters on Wednesday, science and fun on Thursday, and reading and imagination on Friday. May is gone and all I can think of is all they're missing out. I haven't even been able to finish their cardboard playhouse and the rain already damaged it. 

The injustice is to my husband. My husband has no idea what to do with himself. I had to ask, for the tenth time, for him to quit his job. His job, which took him 14 months to get, was finally giving us some financial stability and growth in his curriculum, even though it meant we saw each other only twice a month. I begged him; "I can't survive this without you." He is scared. He is scared he can't provide. He is scared he doesn't know how to care for me, how to talk to me. He is scared he is doing everything wrong. How is that man who doesn't even have sisters will know how to raise two girls on his own? And just like my mother, who is he leaning on? Who is he talking to? I fear they are so alone in their own pain, too occupied with my pain to tend to theirs. 

The injustice is to my family. It's to my sister who called me yesterday to tell me she got a raise in her job and will be able to send me more money. She cried with me as she told me she is mortified of losing her sister, of living in world without me and all she can do to help is send money, so she rejoiced she could send more. I just forget how others are suffering, including my dad who comes by just to see me for a few seconds so he can carry on with his day, even though he is becoming less skilled at hiding the sadness behind his eyes.

All that sadness and struggle is born out of love. 

I don't know if my fate will be Kara's fate. Even if I had the extra 8 years she did, I would still not want to go and neither did she. I mourn her everyday without having met her because I walked in her shoes, even if I feel my shoes are less lucky. My shoes could be luckier and I could beat cancer. Or my shoes could be luckier and I could not beat cancer but walk this journey better because I had Kara's example in my life. I had her, and that makes my shoes luckier already.  

It isn't injustice. Our days were numbered from the day we were born. 

Suffering, as Kara passionately advocated, showed even more strongly the goodness of God. 

This life is not the end game.

1 Peter 1:3-9

3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4 and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, 5 who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. 6 In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 7 These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. 8 Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, 9 for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls. 

Yes, it's hard to endure, but I have the Cross. I can always go back to the Cross. 

2 Corinthians 4:7-14

7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8 We are hard pressed on every side,but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10 We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11 For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. 12 So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.

13 It is written: “I believed; therefore I have spoken.”Since we have that same spirit of faith, we also believe and therefore speak,14 because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you to himself.

Jesus could have cried out "INJUSTICE" and He would have been right. Furthermore, Jesus had the power to stop the true injustice and could have refused to lay down His life. He didn't. For me. For you. For those who love me and because of their love for me are suffering. Please don't only pray for me. Pray for them. Give them a shoulder to cry on or someone to talk to. And to those suffering alongside me, remember the Cross. It's not a matter of just not forgetting the Cross, but of intentionally remembering it everyday. Quench your anger with it. Silence your lies with it. Find true joy and peace with it. It is so beautiful and powerful, and no earthly pain will make me forget, as my friend Benjie always says. 

What do I have to be angry for with such a God?
Praise God for cancer survivors.
Praise God for women getting cancer later in life.
Praise God for my cancer, someone's always worse than you.
Praise God for Kara, living her legacy past her earth-life.

And so, I picked myself out of this bed and put my sneakers on. I did 45 minutes on the walker, which seemed like a miracle. I was filled with energy and took the girls out for a walk. Tomorrow, I might find the strength to bake some blackberry muffins. God is good with every breath. 

First Chemo and Miami Trip

So my mom called like two and half weeks ago to tell me she was coming to Honduras on May 20th because her employer agreed to let her work from home and even gifted her with the plane ticket. I tell her she should use that plane ticket for later because this is just the first chemo and the side effects will be mild, if there are any at all. Thank God she did come because there were side effects and if that is mild I understand better why mom felt she needed to be there and my doctors keep giving me warnings of what it'll be like.

My wonderful father was at the hospital at 4 am to make sure I was the first one in line to get chemo. Even getting that early, he was second in line. We got there at 5:30 and went inside at 6. They had told me chemo would only last for two hours, but it ended up being four hours and a half. I came out at 11:30 am. I was so happy to be sitting next to a triple negative breast cancer patient. I could finally feel there was someone talking to me who really understood me. It was really hard to see most of the patients were older people. The lady to my other side had finished her last chemo December the 4th. Her cancer came back exactly 4 monts later and she was there on her fourth chemo second time around. You could feel the sadness oozing from her. It was very hard to comfort her fearing her fate was mine. Luckily, there was an on-call psychologist that spent most of the time with her and other patients.

Side effects began exactly 72 hrs after chemo. among them where extreme fatigue, strong stomache, mild to strong but not severe headache, general body pain, nausea, and reflux. The worst part was the smell of chemo that was constantly in my mouth and nose, and I could swear even in my ears. The strongest chemo I am receiving right now has a red-orange color, and I was surprised to see I was still peeing orange 9-10 days after. How could that be in my system for so long? No wonder they do checks on my kidneys and liver. Poor filtering systems! I was so grateful my mom was here.

My husband has a childhood friend called Leonor. We have never met, but she follows me on Facebook and always likes all the pics I put of the girls. Her mom is also suffering from cancer and is in great need of a liver transplant. She is 25 years old and has been carrying the medical and financial bills for her mom and siblings since she was 18 years old. She is so brave and inspiring. Because she has done so much research and medical connections because of her mom, she got a lab to do the genetic test for 3500$. This girl who didn't know me at all had done so much to try to help me. We thought it over and reached the conclusion that with the test's discount we could afford to travel to Miami, make sure the blood sample wasn't tampered by sending it through DHL, and maybe get the chance to see an oncologist there and do connections for future clinical trials.

My dad very sacrificially gave me 1,500$ from his savings. My sister had sent 1,000$, which was almost 90% of two months worth of her salary. My aunt had gotten donations from my uncles, aunts, and cousins from the US and Honduras and gave me 2340$. It was amazing how we had raised enough money without having to burden my mom, who had already paid my surgery.

I contacted many hospitals to try to get an appointment with an oncologist and only Memorial Cancer Institute was willing to help us get an appointment, but we had to give her my medical records, which in this third world country I get in physical and not digital form, wednesday before 5pm. Our plane arrived at 3:40pm, and because I was on a wheel chair, we were able to get out at 4pm. We called Victoria, from Memorial, saying we would't make it before 5 and she agreed to wait until 5;30. We made it there at 5;10!

On thursday we went to get the genetic panel done, which included the BRCA 1 and 2 I needed, and even a more comprehensive genetic testing for other known genes for breast cancer. The doctor was wonderful. He told us he was also a cancer survivor and even shared his cancer story with me. He shared even the alternative medicine research he has done and gave us a prescription for some of these dietary supplements and vitamins. Victoria called us that afternoon to tell us we got an appointment friday at 1.

I was stunned. It was not a hospital building. It was not a cancer building. It was a breast cancer center building. Amazing! The doctor was so incredibly nice. He told me he had been studying the day before my case and spent the night debating my treatment. He came to the conclusion that he thoroughly agreed with the chemotherapy regiment my Honduran doctor is giving me. He was debating because the sessions, dosage, and time between sessions was above the standard care and very aggressive. He was positive it was the best fighting chance for me because of my cancer type and my age would help me withstand the treatment. He did clarify that I would need radiotherapy, which is something to look into because I don't think I can get that done in the public hospital, and he prescribed 33 radiotherapy sessions for six weeks, with a daily session monday through friday. He said that he was 95% certain my genetic test would come back negative, and it was a good thing to have it done to be 100% sure and know if my daughters were in danger and if I need to do a bilateral mastectomy and ooforectomy (removal of ovaries and phalopian tubes). Then he mentioned something of my future children and at that moment I interrupted him and said "What??" And he said "yeah, if you aren't done having children..." And then I interrupted him again. "What are you talking about? I can have more children?". At this point I burst into tears. I even made his nurse burst into tears. "I was definitely not done having children." He said that if the genetic test is negative there is no reason for me not to have more children. He made it clear that my pregnancy had nothing to with my cancer, except maybe the sadness the miscarriage gave me that dropped my immune system and helped the cancer spread. This is why he tells me this battle is a battle of the mind, something I tell him everyone tells me. He says I need to keep positive. He says that I have a 70% chance of being cured with just the surgery, chemo will bring me to 90%, and radio to 95%. He is certain I will be cured. He told me that for the next six months I am a cancer patient, but once I am done I will be a cancer survivor and I need to see myself as such. No thinking in recurrence or reading anything more. I told him it would be hard for me to consider becoming a mom again as my greatest fear is orphaning the children I already have. He said that the good thing about my cancer is that if it doesn't recur in two years, the chances of recurring drastically drop, and if there is no recurrence in five years, I am cancer free for the rest of my life. In five years, you are 35, so why not the kids my heart desires?

I tell you, I left that office feeling uplifted. He told me there weren't any clinical trials I could participate in because my cancer is not considered metastasic yet. But he told me that the chemo I am receiving, paired with the Carboplatin (one of the 4 chemos I am receiving) is already a clinical trial in itself and my chemo regiment is 5 years ahead of it's time. Imagine hearing that of the treatment I am receiving in Honduras in the public hospital?!!! How wonderful! We got answers, we got hope of things I had already given up hope, and a positive outlook. The nurse that called us had even said the appointment would cost 500$. God's grace was with us at all times that when the recepcionist charged my mom 100$ she started crying and made the receptionist cry too.

We got to share a lot of time with Leonor. We even said she is our new baby sister. She had such a special connection with my mom. With all the burden she has had to carry alone, we were happy to meet her, make her part of our family, and get to share with her in the future. She treated us to dinner and drove us all over Miami. She had to leave on friday to Nicaragua to an emergency surgery for her brother and insisted she left her car at our disposal.
We slept the first two nights there with Tia Sara's sister Sara (yeah, they are both called Sara). She and her husband were kind enough to receive us in their home even if we hadn't met and were gracious hosts.
We got to spend the remaining of our time in Miami with Diane, a good friend of my mom. It was awesome to share time with her. She has been mourning the passing of her husband, and we were so happy to share with her and comfort her. I even felt blessed if my cancer could uplift her in the beauty of life. She cooked for us and took us to dinner. It was so amazing the people, doctors, nurses, everyone we encountered. God was felt at every step.

Here are a few pictures of our time there:

Pictures of downtown Miami after the genetic test

We went to La Boulangerie, a cafe we walked to to have lunch and wait for Leo to pick us up after the genetic test. It was a great one on one with mom I hadn't had in years.

Leo treating us to Latin American restaurant.

Diane treating us to Brio, Tuscan grill

First time at Chick-fil-A with Diane

Diane's pancakes, with strawberries and blueberries

Mom and me at Diane's ranch

A view of the ranch and Diane's dog Emely. If I ever visit with the girls, which we hope to do so one day, there will be confusion with Emely and Emmalee. XD

She is a sweetheart.

My head was starting to feel sensitive with a little pain, so we went ahead with shaving my head before it got too sensitive and shaving got too painful. There was a specific area that was already very sensible and I shed a couple of tears. My darling husband who still looks dashingly handsome went ahead and shaved his. The girls had no problem with mom and dad's shaved heads.

Lovely family. My mother-in-love had a fall last Saturday and has been in a lot of pain. Please include her in your prayers.

A good person with cancer?

"Why did I get breast cancer at 30?" I asked my oncologist.
A cancer that 95% of the time ails women older than 50 years of age. Not just any breast cancer; triple negative breast cancer, the rarest form of breast cancer, the cancer with the worst prognosis, the cancer with the least available treatments.
"That is the only question I can't answer," replied the doctor.
"You know what, I take that question back. You must have mothers whose children have cancer asking why their perfect little one has cancer," I told him.

It is very easy to be negative. It is very easy to be fearful. It is very easy to be ungrateful. I don't mean to make any of this an easy battle for the Devil. If you have read my blog, you know that I mostly preach about gratitude. Gratitude is the attitude. I can sit there feeling sorry for myself, which many would understand, or I can look for perspective and seek gratitude.

Last year, three friends of mine and I prayed fervently for baby bailey. My daughter Kaylee was a year younger when a neuroblastoma claimed bailey's life at two years of age. Her parents fought fiercely for their baby girl, and in return, their baby girl never lost her beautiful spirit and smile. I still shed tears when I remember her and remember how hard I asked God to spare her.

I have loved the support and encouragement people give me, but it is really hard when people assert I will come out healed. It is a little hard to feel understood when they do this because cancer kills and it could kill me. I fear for my life and I wish that fear was acknowledged and respected instead of buried under claims that only God can make.

I don't fear death. I fear leaving my girls. People usually correct me when I say this saying I should include my husband. Ever since we got engaged, I made it clear to my husband he wasn't my happiness. No one can carry that responsibility because people are imperfect and imperfect beings fail. The only one who will not fail is God. My husband knows my happiness comes from God and I know so does his. My girls are the ones I fear for. I don't want to make them orphans at such a young age. This has been the reason for my cries to the Lord. "Oh, God, I didn't want them to grow in a broken home like mine, and now they could not have me at all!"

I was very bitter during mother's day. I am very sorry if you tagged me on a congratulation posts or sent me messages that day and I replied none. I felt there was no reason to celebrate mother's day and I was feeling really down and in need of isolation. I even told a friend I wish I hadn't become a mom just to have my girls watch me be consumed by cancer while they wonder why their mom can't hold them or play with them. "I don't want to put them through that," I said. "You are not putting them through anything," my dear Bram Van Den Heuvel said.

I have not questioned God once, which is why I even took it back when I questioned my doctor. God had been preparing me for this time. How could I question God with what others have endured? When I read stories like Zephany´s, Lauren's, Elisabeth's, I cry my eyes out. How can there be such evil on earth? I have prayed for their lives many, many nights crying fountains of tears. "Why do things like this (referring to my cancer) only happen to good people, and there are many evil men in the world healthy?" my sister-in-law asked. "You are brave and good (referring to me) and the Lord will see you out of this," a friend claimed. No. No. No. No!

I liked a post a friend shared on Facebook: "Why do bad things happen to good people? Answer: Because there are no good people.
Romans 3:23 for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.

The real question is: Why do good things happen to bad people? Answer: Because God is good."

When someone tries to give me any sort of praise for any "good" they see in me as claims that I will be healed, I share Kara Tipetts story. A mother of four whose life was claimed by a "better" breast cancer than mine at 36 years of age, she is my example of praising God in the storm. She is ten times more "deserving" to have been spared than I am. Yet, God's will was done and it was still good. If you clicked the link to Kara's blog, it will take you to a post of request to vulnerability and hurt. 

"I don't know how to pray," I told Bram. "Do I ask God to heal me or do I ask Him to help me accept His will?". "Both" was his reply. "Just look at Jesus; He did the same."

Matthew 26
36 Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” 37 He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. 38 Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”
39 Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed,“My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”
40 Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Couldn’t you men keep watch with me for one hour?” he asked Peter. 41 “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”
42 He went away a second time and prayed, “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.”
43 When he came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. 44 So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing.
45 Then he returned to the disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and resting? Look, the hour has come

Kara explains how hard it was when people tried to force her to be joyful when she was feeling broken because she had God with her and thus had no excuse or reason to feel down. Well, Jesus knew this better than anyone, and he was in distress. He asked to be spared. He asked His friends to ask that He was spared. He cried and pleaded and so can I and so will my friends.

I went to my first appointment at the public hospital last friday. Most of the women there were older ladies, but there were two 30 year-olds. "At least you got to be a mother" tells me this woman fighting lymphoma cancer whose husband abandoned her after he found out about the cancer. "I will never be a mom" tells me the other young woman who had a hysterectomy to save her from cervical cancer. And there I was lamenting my lost dream of a big family with 4-6 children. Count your blessings!

And so, gratitude sustains me most days. Some days, I am broken by my own fears. In those days I lay awake praying so I won't fall into temptation, knowing His will is done and in His will He will sustain and look over for my girls, through me or without me. 

Thank you for your support. It has been overwhelming. I could not concentrate on living and going through this season if I could not rest in the support I have received from all the wonderful mothers, family, and friends that have been active in helping me beat this cancer. Yesterday we found out that the genetic test I need to be able to participate in a clinical trial and take further action in my treatment has a cost of $5,000. I am confident we will be able to raise this money. I am grateful for the sacrifices and the strong fight my mother has been giving this cancer. Cancer should fear such an opponent; she is, after all, supermom! 

I start chemotherapy tomorrow. Bald head, come to me! I am excited to make you look good. 

Thanks to Tia Sara for inviting us to La Ceiba for a weekend of fun with the girls before we start my next six months of treatment. Some might find it an extravagance. Some might see it as a necessity to endure the harsh months ahead. I am just glad I had another adventure to tell the girls about. 

And show them, as I will show you, my favorite pictures.  

Yes, only pics of my daughters. How can I help myself, they are just too gorgeous. They are the apple of my eyes. Poor daddy had to work.