A Perfect Plan

We've been looking forward to this appointment for an entire week. It has been eight days since I was diagnosed and time has seemed to barely move since then. We knew it was breast cancer but how to treat it would depend on the receptors. Sometimes they can change and morph when the cancer returns. 

We head out to the Cumming location to see Dr. May. We sat fairly quietly as I filled out my mountain of paperwork. I can't help to think I'm checking off more and more ailments the older I get. How sad! We finally arrive and are a little early. Skip ran into Petsmart and then rolled through the Starbucks. I pulled up my email, and the God stories begin...

Early this morning I had asked a friend to email Madison's teachers and counselors to make sure everyone knew what was going on. I see a knew message from her science/ social studies teacher that makes me lose it. She explained how they were all contacted Monday with the news and were already on it. Madison was randomly placed by computer with who I now know were the exact teachers she needed to be with. These teachers are all christians and promise to be praying for her every day. A few days ago, she told us about Mr. Pence silently giving her a penny. She was confused and told us every day how he kept giving her one. This morning I told Skip, maybe it was a penny for her thoughts! I was wrong. you ready? Brace yourself... The penny is significant of the teacher's praying for her that day. Every day she will get another penny. And though it may seem insignificant at first, over time, she will have a collection of pennies, or should we say prayers. I was reading this email out loud, barely able to get the words out. 

All I could think was how I would pray every summer for my kids teachers and for Madison to be in the right place. This was the biggest answer to prayer. I remember going to open house thinking, okay God, not sure what you're up to, but teachers in trailers have to be cool to work outside, so I'm cool. So after I've peeled myself up off the floor and into the building, the fun continues.

We walk into the reception area and I filled out a few things and my phone rings. But as it does I hear someone talking to my husband and I hear, "Alana." I quickly turn around and it is a class mom from Alana's class last year. Now, if you didn't know, that was like one of my favorites classes ever and seeing a familiar face brought me a bit more joy. It was so nice.

We sit down. Skip touches my leg and says, "look." All I can muster out is "shut up." There right in front of us are the letters H O P E. It was all too much. Ok God, you have our attention. Is this where we are supposed to be?

We quickly meet Dr. May and this go around is hundreds times better. She constantly looked me in the eye and we talked about everything! She explained my tumor had in fact changed, but not much and I was still Her2 negative and ended up being ER positive and PR negative. So I'm not triple negative, just double negative. I'm not sure what all that really means, but we devised a plan.

Starting next Thursday, I will begin 4 rounds of Adriamyacin and Cytoxin over a short 8 weeks and then we will redo the PET scan. Yes, those are brutal drugs and I will be nasty sick, BUT she wants to see remission. We are praying it wipes this stuff out and then we can replace with hormone therapy. The HOPE is the cancer cells die and stay dead. The possibilities are it doesn't work, and then we go to the next treatment. It does work, but it comes back within months. I am put into complete remission, and we get years? I can't even imagine that is possible, but it could be.

And just the way everything worked on the calendar, the tiny window for me to be able to get radiation just happens to fall on the 30th. So, again. Perfect plan.

We have an MRI tomorrow, next week holds an echo cardiogram and port placement and then Thursday being the big day. We are leaving for Savannah that afternoon so she is pumping me with all kids of good stuff and then sending home the shot for skip to give me the next day. (Thats what she thinks but I will likely stand on a street corner waving down a nurse before I let him jab me with a needle, just sayin)

The cancer center was super home like and small. Completely different from what we are used to, but it felt peaceful. It felt calm and when we left it felt like a HUGE burden was lifted off my shoulders. It was a lot like the day I asked God into my life, a peace that is undeniable, a weightless feeling, something I cannot explain. We figure we will still go to MD Anderson, but we have to wait until the first round is over.

I know it's a big prayer, and our God can make big miracles. But we are asking that these next 9 weeks produce remission. How amazing would it be to get a PET scan and the doctors say, "it;s gone!" I am telling you I would be on mountain tops praising God and Skip laughed saying he would too, and that's HUGE! HA! We are confident this can happen and our hope is real. We are staying positive and taking one section of the journey at a time.

Our social worker talked to us for a good hour and I think if nothing else I left there knowing one, it was absolutely ok to have a pity party, just don't stay there, and that we are discovering our new norm. It's something we keep talking about, and honestly like. It's a scary place to be, but if the new norm includes slowing down, snuggling every second, make time precious, helping us pray more than ever and changing our perspective on life in general, well, then, I guess I'm okay being here.

I wake up every day with a thankful heart, that I'm given another day with my precious family, amazing friends and given another chance at doing life right. I go to sleep tonight, still pain free after a long night of lover pain, and lay here with my husband. He has been by my side almost 24 hours a day for 8 days and I cannot tell you how loved I feel. This nasty disease always seems to find a way to make you stronger, find blessings, and more. Just the way it works, so tonight, I fall asleep with a smile, a peace, a gratefulness for the miracles have only just begun.

Thank you for being a part of our journey, you are our partners in this and we are going to fight this all together. Thank you for praying for us, standing in the gaps for us, taking care of us, lifting us, supporting us, this is going to be a long journey, but together we can find hope. Together we can find a cure. Together we are going to be 15%.

God bless.