Rachel recently found a small lump in her breast that was found to be cancerous. After shedding some tears, her family surrounded her with prayer. Rachel's hope is in Christ, the lover of her soul, her Savior, Friend, and Deliverer. Our family set up this blog so others could read updates and know how to pray and support, even from afar. Rachel is so appreciative of all the prayers and can feel the "peace of the Lord that passes all understanding."
Here's what we heard in the doctor's office Thursday morning, May 24, 2012:
"Everything looks great. The scans show there's nothing. We're going do a lumpectomy, Tues June 19, to remove the titanium marker and scrape around it, biopsy the tissue, and we'll take out one lymph node to biopsy it. You have a lot to be happy about."
In the van ride back to the house, these two, no three scenes I'll remember forever:
1. Pre-Meeting: Mom walking in, her green shirt glittering in the morning sun. The color reminded me of growth, and I praise God for how she's trusted Him through this whole process, and that means a lot of sparkly growth. :)
2. Post-Meeting: Dad, after being pretty intense in the office, broke down in the van and shed tears, exclaiming in wonder, relief, and amazement, "That is great news. Wow."
3. When they got home, my Dad reached across and held my Mom's hand, as he prayed for her, thanking the Lord for His touch and this wonderful news. I wanted to record the prayer and hand-holding, because it seemed very significant to me, but I didn't have my camera. So you can imagine. It looked like one of those cards, where people get married, and they hold hands; two becoming one. Yes, they already are married, but this process bound them further in a very tender and unique way.
And I think this text from my Aunt Mary Alice (Mom's dear sister) and Uncle Norman, the one who writes funny emails that make Mom laugh, sums up how many of us feel: "I am so pleased at this outcome. Norman and I are jumping for joy. Love m a."
It's been a very special day to celebrate, May 24, 2012. Thank you for walking along this journey with us. Thank you for crying when we cried and laughing when we laughed. Thanks for being our O'Hana, Hawaiian for 'Big, extended family'. Lot's of love, The Smileys
My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus Christ and his righteousness. On Christ the Solid Rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand, all other ground is sinking sand. The words from this hymn come to mind when I think about what we heard today in the doctor's office.
(This version is beautiful. Hope it lifts your hearts, too.)
I'll back up. Last Friday, Mom and I went to get her final scans (MRI, mammogram, ultrasound), kind of like a student's 'final exams'. Only these scans would reveal how the full treatment (praise, prayers, chemo, etc.) worked and what she should do next.
Mid-way through chemo, Mom couldn't feel the lima-bean sized lump anymore.
When asked if she should still receive chemo, the doctor said, "Our 'route' is going to Chicago, so we don't want to get off half-way; we'll finish the treatments." She kept going; with her great attitude and kind heart reaching out to everyone she saw, encouraging, hugging, saying she would pray for them. It's been 'fun' too, in a sense, to have a full day with Mom, sitting by her, visiting with other patients, playing board games, listening to music, eating lunch Dad brings in, and receiving amazing care by the nurses.
Along with the chemo, we've been praying, and so many of you have joined in this 'battle cry' of prayers lifting to the very Throne Room of the King of all kings, requesting and speaking the Lord's healing over Mom's full body, and Mom has been 'receiving' those prayers by faith. So, really, it's been double-duty treatment: Faith + Medicine.
Here's another blessing that our wise and kind doctor pointed out, who is one of the most talented diplomats I have ever witnessed. (That's on his business card: a diplomat for cancer happenings.) He said, "You really have much to be thankful for. The type of cancer is triple +, which means that there are three positive ways we can treat it: chemo, Herceptin, and estrogen-removal."
I would personally add, 'quadruple +', prayer and belief that God is our Healer, like he described of himself: "If you listen carefully to the LORD your God and do what is right in his eyes, if you pay attention to his commands and keep all his decrees [thankfully we live in the time after Jesus Messiah fulfilled the requirements of the Law, and opened a New Covenant bought & sealed by His shed blood . . . so now we follow the Law of the Spirit of Life, Romans 7-8], I will not bring on you any of the diseases I brought on the Egyptians, for I am the LORD, who heals you."
I found that verse by doing a Bible keyword search on 'heals'. There are a lot of verses about God healing all our diseases (Psalm 103), binding up our wounds (Psalm 147). And we read about the life of Jesus Messiah: healing the sick, casting out demons, and preaching 'Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.'
He even brought dead people back to life; like the little girl who's parents' believed and said, "Yes, our daughter died, but could you come and pray for her? We know nothing is impossible for you Lord Jesus." Wow, that's big faith.
Scan Day:
So Friday, Mom and I went to the scans. First: big MRI, where Mom said it was like you're slid inside a round hole, a giant doughnut-machine, and then for an hour, you hear loud ratt-a-tatt-tatting all around, like a jack-hammer. She endured.
Then we went upstairs and Mom got a mammogram, where they press, really tight, flat metal plates against your chest, and it's not too comfortable. She made it through. Then the nurse called her back for the ultrasound and allowed me to come back, too.
As the nurse ran the wand over Mom's chest, a black and white video showed on the screen. The nurse said, "I can't officially say anything." We looked together at the screen, and she kept looking and looking, but couldn't find anything. She could barely find the small titanium marker the docs inserted where the lump was when they took the initial tissue sample for biopsy.
That's right, was.
I felt like God drew back the curtains to show me a peek at what He had been accomplishing in Mom's body, and what we (everyone) had been praying and cheering for: complete healing in Jesus' Name.
Back in January, when Mom got the call from the nurse, saying the biopsy was cancerous, Mom's response was, "Bummer." She thought the results would be benign. But it was amazing that her family was right there (we were all in the van together, so really together, even though a few weren't able to be present). And then we were right around her own Regnier family, brothers and sisters, neices and nephews, whom she loves dearly. And one uncle Norman, in particular, who is walking a similar road, put his arm around Mom and cared for her really well, making her laugh with his emails. So, thank you, everyone for how you have walked with Mom, all in your own ways and methods of showing love--it's so beautiful.
There have been flowers sent annonymously, cards arriving in a continual stream, meals lovingly prepared, phone calls, text messages at just the right time, conversations, encouragement, and even if you've never personally talked to Mom, but have been part of this journey through your love and or prayers, we want to thank you. Really. You're part of our family's story along this road.
This Friday, she will go in for a re-scan of her chest to see results of the chemo, and to give doctors 'sight' for determining next steps of treatment. (Right now, she can't feel the lump anymore, so that's great news. We're praying and trusting the Lord for complete healing.)
Scans Friday (May 18)
Possible surgery (lump or mass/whole) in June
Radiation if there's a lumpectomy
Herceptin every three weeks (for 11 more doses, finishing by Thanksgiving :) starting Thursday
Anti-estrogen drug for maybe 5 years
The above 'regimine' is prescribed as a result of the original biopsy and character of her particular cells, and what is current medical knowledge regarding drugs/treatment. It's still a faith-walk. Sometimes it seems like everything is; our faith/confidence in is something or someone.
I love being around Mom because she simply believes in the Lord. Sometimes my mind can get full of combinations and possible scenarios and what we should do, and then I talk with her, and she has a way of 'simply trusting'. Then all my scenarios blow away, and I rest, trusting the Lord, too.
So thanks for praying for our family. The Lord is a wonderful Shepherd, to the Finish.
By the way, Mom really is doing great. She's had amazing sustained energy through the whole treatment, with no infections. Praise God. We've also been working on organizing projects around the home, which will be nice when everything is complete. (But the process is necessary and beneficial as well.)
Blessings and strength to your families, in Jesus' Name, who is the Beginning and the End, a stronghold in times of trouble, and our Redeemer.
Ericka
Ashley has another great blog entry: about vigils and being up in the middle of the night.
