Tuesday with Naqvi--5

It's Cinco de Chemo!  Ole!

A few nights ago, Stephen and I were talking, and I asked him how he is doing.  He responded with something like, "I'm okay."  That type of an answer typical for both of us.  We are both the oldest children in our family, hard workers, determined, goal-setters, and just keep pushing forward with what life gives us, which has not always been easy.  We both like to make plans and follow through with those plans, but many, MANY times in the {almost} 13 years we've been married, those plans have changed--often SIGNIFICANTLY--so we just do our best to adapt and keep on moving forward, enduring the hard times, having faith that we will {maybe someday?} have moments of rest when we can stop and take a breath and enjoy the ride before it gets hard or scary once more.

We are--by no means--perfect at enduring, and--obviously--the Lord feels like we still have things to learn.  What Stephen said next stayed with me more than his typical "okay."  He continued, "Sometimes I feel like I just don't have enough patience."   {I REALLY hope he hasn't been making the CLASSIC mistake of praying for patience.  Every mom--and sane person, really--should know that patience is the LAST thing you want to pray for because it nearly GUARANTEES that you are just asking for some awful experience that will put your patience to the test.} Stephen was referring to having more patience with the boys, and I'm sure with the *new* {sick} me, and just reminding himself that it's okay to be frustrated in all of this, but that he does need to have patience.  The thought of having patience stuck with me, though, especially as it came up again at church on Sunday.

We were learning about the first principles and ordinances of the gospel: Faith, repentance, baptism, the gift of the Holy Ghost, and enduring to the end.  We read a scripture that just resonated with me.

Be patient in afflictions, for thou shalt have many; but endure them, for, lo, I am with thee, even unto the end of thy days." {D&C 24:8}

This flat-out promises that we will have many hard times and trials in this life.  There is no way around that.  Life is not a party, a free ride, a fantasy camp.  Our teacher said so many great things that just brought tears to my eyes about how we must learn to endure and that life is for us to learn and grow.  We can't grow without being tested and proving our faith in Christ.  Even if we are good, strong people, we cannot escape difficulties.  In fact, sometimes the opposite is true.  If we have mastered our circumstances and are comfortable with the principles we've learned to live, and the part of the journey we've followed line upon  line/precept upon precept is easy, that often is when the Lord knows that we are ready for growth, meaning that we will usually go through a trial.  The amazing thing is that during and through and after that trial, we become stronger.  And the pattern continues.  We know that there will be many afflictions in life, so we just need to learn even more how to be patient in them.

The promise and comfort for displaying this patience and endurance is that we are never alone and that we will also receive great blessings after the trials of faith.  "For after much tribulation come the blessings..." {D&C 58:4} and "ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith." {Ether 12:6}  Of course, this lesson hit home to me with my current situation of trying to overcome and beat cancer.  It is not fun.  I'm going through a really hard point in the journey.  It's difficult to have patience with all of these unknowns that keep creeping up, AND that the side effects I knew were coming keep coming before I expect them to.  It's hard to remember the eternal perspective and to keep in mind that this trial truly is temporary.  I don't like the helpless feeling of knowing that I can't do everything I want to do whenever I want to do it.  I am held back by the schedule of making a trip to the hospital 3 times a week. I'm held back by my fatigue, nausea, constant colds and sicknesses being passed around the family, and headaches.  I'm sad about gaining weight and losing hair, and then I feel vain about those fleeting physical things having such an effect and contributing to my breaking points.  It's embarrassing to tear up and cry in front of people when I really do want to have patience and faith through this and endure it well.  I don't always feel like I have patience or the faith necessary to endure.

That leads to my month-long focus on faith.  I studied even more about faith today and how it relates to our Savior, Jesus Christ, and His atonement.  The study of faith really starts with Christ because he should be the center of our faith.  That faith in Christ leads us to action--action to learn more, to become more, to do and become better people, and to share that faith with others.  Faith in Christ means that we believe him, we desire to be more like him, we know that our blessings come because of our faith in Him, and we have an assurance that His atoning sacrifice will allow us the fulfillment of things hoped for.  We believe that He truly sacrificed for each of us, in every way that a person can sacrifice.  Isaiah 53:4 says, "surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows..."  Not only did our Savior suffer for our sins, but he endured every trial of pain and grief and sorrow so that He could be the one on which we can rely.  Because He endured it all, we can have faith that He truly knows what each of us is experiencing at any given moment.  This faith allows us to be more patient in trials and to continue to endure as our faith is tested and increased, knowing that our Savior cannot ever leave us truly alone.  I think this set of scriptures sums it up well: 

 1 Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ:

 2 By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.

 3 And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience;

 4 And patience, experience; and experience, hope:

 5 And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us.

 {Romans 5:1-5}

Stephen's response that he's "okay" is a true response in so many ways.  Even through our trials, we can be "okay."  Our faith may be being tested, but we have peace through God and Jesus Christ.   We can even "glory in tribulations" because those tribulations help us practice patience, gain experience, increase hope, and become even more faithful because of the outpouring we feel of God's love for us if we open our hearts to accept it as we continue to have patience and endure. 

P.S.  Dr. Naqvi checked out the possible hernia spot, reviewed all of my scans, and says everything looks clear.  It could just be my bowels moving around, so we'll just keep an eye on it.  I got a prescription for a wig, so I'll be picking that out hopefully this weekend.   I'm supposed to really watch what I eat because weight gain can be a big problem.  I found it interesting that she said that can actually be a sign that the chemo is working; the tumor is probably shrinking and the extra calories that it was burning up to grow are now adding to my weight gain.  Weight loss used to happen with chemo, but now the opposite is true.  Interesting stuff---hair loss, weight gain, fatigue--and I'm only 33 1/2!

Curveballs

Just when I think I have a pretty good handle on this new life and have this cancer thing pretty well figured out, I'm thrown a curve ball.

I was just talking about how grateful I am that I'm having the less severe chemo first, will get to keep my hair a little longer, and can get used to the schedule and how my body reacts to chemo before I have to worry about another major change.  Not a few days after that blog post, I was getting ready to go to a Young Women activity, and my hair just kept falling out.  I knew from the beginning that chemo would force me to have to deal with the loss of my hair, but I just had a different timeline mapped out in my mind.  Curveball.  I get to deal with it sooner than expected.

I decided to cut my hair pretty short, since that was the advice I was given by my doctor to help deal with the shock of losing the hair.  Apparently, it makes it less messy?  Well, I was also told that this first chemo would just cause my hair to "thin."  My interpretation of that word must be different than what is actually happening.  Every time I run my hands through my hair, 20 strands come out.  Trying to wash it is a mess.  Attempting to style it was even more of a joke.  I'm really just disappointed that this cute cut my stylist neighbor was kind enough to give me won't last longer than I was planning.  Curveball.  The short in-between-losing-it-all cut will not be much an an in-between after all. 

I was told NOTHING about weight loss/weight gain in all of this.  I assumed, if I'm being honest, that I might actually lose weight, what with the vomiting/change in appetite/sickness from chemo.  Part of me was like, "Hey, that's a positive spin on things.  If I'm going to be sick, at least I might be able to lose those last 10 pounds."  Oh, silly girl.  The weight thing has really slapped me in the face---or backside/gut/thighs.  I wasn't prepared for the weight gain.  It's been pretty extreme.  I really was working so hard to lose all of that baby weight and was SO CLOSE to my goal weight.  In no time, I feel like I'm half-way through another pregnancy, and it is rather depressing.  Curveball.  I get to add being fat to the *wonderful* list of side effects--especially those that I wasn't planning on!  

In addition to all of that *fun stuff* I may---or may not---have an incisional hernia near the site of my tubal ligation.  Add that to the list of things I need to have checked out.  Curveball!    

So, I've had a few rough times getting hit with all of these curveballs in the last few days.  There have been a few tears shed.  I try to be strong and handle whatever comes my way without {too much} complaining, but I also don't want to come off as fake.  It's hard to say that I'm doing well when someone asks because this stuff is HARD.  I know I'd be lying if I just smiled and said that everything is great.  It's not.  Some days are easier than others.  Some days I truly am ok, and others I'm just "ok."  But, all I can really do is take each day at a time and try to stay out of the way when the curve balls are thrown in my direction.   

Thick and Thin

Pardon me while I have a little pity party.

Wednesday is shot day--my least favorite day of this process.  The shot does worse things to me than the chemo.  Or maybe it's just the combination of the two, but I usually end up feeling worse Wednesday evening into Thursday than I do all week.

I stepped on the scale today and realized that I've gained 13 pounds.  THIRTEEN!  Sure, being on steroids doesn't help one bit, and at least I have something to blame it on, but COME ON!  As if I didn't have enough to feel sorry for myself about.  Now I'm getting thick.  I'm a big boned girl as it is, constantly fighting my genes to fit in my jeans.  Now genetics has a new ally, one that seems to be taking over.

Add to that me trying to get ready to head to church tonight, and the thinning of the hair has begun.  Just about everyone I talked to said it would happen around 3 weeks.  I was just praying to make it until we could have family pictures taken.  Both of those came and went this week, so I guess it was time for the inevitable.  As I stood by my sink, running my fingers through my itching scalp, handful after handful came along, too. 

There you have it: I am literally in the THICK and the thin of things.  And it's only just begun. 

Tuesdays with Naqvi 4

It's just another Mother's Day Out on a beautiful Tuesday morning, in the comfort of my chemo chair.

I'm catching up on thank-you cards and am almost done with another value experience for my Young Women Personal Progress.  Faith is the value I'm trying to finish by the end of the month, and I think it has been a perfect place to start my study as I've started this journey toward becoming a breast cancer survivor.  There is a ridiculous amount of faith required in this process, a value I am still learning how to understand and live.  

Today I reviewed a story about mothers who not only have great faith, but are able to teach the important value of faith to their children.  There is a story in The Book of Mormon that is often referenced when the topic of strong mothers comes up about 2,000 young men who volunteered to go into battle, taking the place of their fathers--who had sworn an oath to never fight again--having full faith that they would not be harmed.  When asked how they could go to war without fear, even though they were young and had never fought before, they explained that  "they had been taught by their mothers that if they did not doubt, God would deliver them..." and furthermore testified, "we do not doubt our mothers knew it." {Alma 56:45-58}

What amazing young men these must have been!  How I want my own boys to be like them, willing to boldly stand up for truth, to know who they are, to have amazing faith, and to work hard and serve others because of their faith, and to love their mother!  The faith of the young warriors was two-fold:  They had great faith in God, knowing that He would deliver them if they displayed their faith, not doubting.  The young men also had great faith in their mothers' testimonies, not doubting that their mothers had great faith in God, as well.

It's no wonder this story is so inspiring, especially for mothers.  Mothers have such a strong influence on the way their children behave, what and how they learn, their understanding of choices and consequences, the core values learned in early years, the way they view the world, the goals they make, and the overall people they will become.  This is a great responsibility to mothers and also such an amazing blessing.  The mother plays SUCH an important role in the people their children are and become.  Some days I worry about how my lack of being at the top of my game as a mother this year will affect my children.  I try my best, but there are times that I just can't do all that I'm used to doing.  I have faith that God will deliver me AND will deliver my boys through this process.  Besides, if I don't put full energy into getting better, I won't be able to be the mother they need, anyway.  

As a mother, I know that one of my main roles is to nurture, teach, and train my children.  In order to teach my children about faith, I must have faith in my life.  I must have the positive qualities necessary to be a good example for my children to follow.  As a parent, it's crucial that I live as the type of person about whom my children can someday say, "we do not doubt--our mother knows it."

Much like the stripling warrirors, I am in a battle of my own, the battle to overcome cancer.  I need to take the example of these mothers and put my faith in God into practice, knowing that  "if {I do} not doubt, God {will} deliver {me.}  If I can do that, my example will wear off to my boys.  If I live by faith, especially in the time of this current life-changing "battle," my children will learn so much more about faith than in simply just reading or hearing about it.  They will know a little about what it is like and how they can put faith to work in their own lives.  {I already see small glimpses of their faith being put to action, especially after my own example.  A few nights ago, Kyle couldn't find his blanket.  He immediately asked, "Mom, remember that day when you prayed that we could find my blanket and we did?  Can you say that prayer again?"  His faith right now in both me and in the power of prayer and that God answers prayers is so strong.  I hope he always keeps it that way!}

It starts like every journey does--with the first step, and then more steps after that, until the goal is reached.  I know I can do it.  I know my family can do it.  I know the boys can do it, too.  I know  that God can and will deliver me from this battle without being harmed, even though I have never had to fight something like this before. Because I am a strong mother, I can teach my children to make desicions based on truth and to never doubt their mother's faith or that when they rely on The Lord, they will be delivered, unharmed, from all kinds of battles in life.

 Now speaking of a battle I'm not going to win......the Benadryl bag just finished, so I have to give in to nap time.  Fight on, North America and all the Pink Warriors out there! 

Scans

One of the first major steps after hearing the news of my cancer diagnosis was to have ct and full body scans in order to detect any possibility of the breast cancer having spread to other places in my body.  Already by that day, I was in a mental whirlwind, having experienced a thousand thoughts and emotions that hit me like a freight train from a hidden track.  I didn't know what to expect and just prayed for good news.

Thankfully, my friend, Jan, was kind enough to come into this unknown territory as moral support. Looking back, I really wish I had asked for mortal support during my biopsy, which turned out to be more difficult and painful than I had expected, so I was delighted to accept Jan's offer of company during this procedure. 

We made it to the office and had to fight a bit with the financial end of things. Even though I had already shelled out hundreds and hundreds of dollars to various doctors  in the previous few days and weeks, none of those claims had been filed with my insurance, so I was liable, according yo their records, for the full $800 (or so) bill.  What an expensive adventure this was turning out to be. (As a side note, once the insurance caught up with my claims, I only owed this place about $15.) 

After paying, they took my order. Did I want a chocolate or vanilla drink? Oh, they were out of vanilla. A  delicious chocolate shake, I guess! I had to drink down this awful, thick, chalky, "chocolate" in order to provide the needed contrast for my CT scan. Yuck!

The fun was just beginning, though. Next they took me back to get my vitals snd prep me for an IV.  Of course, they had troubles getting that in. I hate IVs!!!  It was not a pleasant star, and then it just got weirder.  In comes the tech with what looked to be s scene straight out of Back to the Future.  She was in full gear, holding a silver, metallic tube with that lovely radioactive sign on the side.  I asked if she was holding some plutonium and how safe could that be to inject inside me if she was wearing so much protective gear.  She explained it was it was a glucose solution with a small amount of radioactive material that would be used to detect cancerous cells.  As soon as this plutonium went in, it chilled me to the bone. I was so cold! I had to sit under warm blankets until the next tech came to get me to start my scans. 

First, was the CT scan. I was in the room alone, on the machine, which I had been told by a few people would be loud and claustrophobic. The machine was a flat bed that went into a tube shaped portion. The tech was outside the room and explained about remaining perfectly still and following directions completely. I could hear the tech speaking and the machine starting, but it was a quiet humming. I was alone with my thoughts, which consisted mostly of the song "Radioactive" playing over and over, knowing the radioactive material that was coursing though my veins. I was told to take a deep breath and hold. After a few seconds, "you can breath."  That process occured several more times and after what felt like only a few minutes, the first scan was over. 

The radioactive solution had to sit in me for 2 hours, so I had some time to kill before the next scan.  My car was nearly on empty, so Jan and I went searching for gas and picked up a few snacks. It was nice to chat and try to take my mind off the heaviness of it all.  We explored a bit and then headed back. Sadly, I had another procedure ahead of me. 

This time, I laid down on a machine that reminded me of a large press.  I had to remain perfectly still again, but this machine had a large, flat panel that slowly lowered down until it was centimeters from my face. Once there, the bottom bed slowly moved so that my entire body was scanned.  Often, the scans have to be redone if the pictures aren't clear enough for good results, but I got it on my first try! The tech told me my body was very photogenic. I even got to see the picture of my scan. It was awesome to see my body, tissues, bones, and all! I really wanted that image to time with me! I wasn't able to get results out of the techs, but they left me with a positive feeling. 

And just like that, the scans were over and it was time to go home!  Soon enough I would hear the good news that my scans didn't reveal any new cancerous areas!

Head Gear

Kyle has asked me several times, "Mom, is today the day all your hair falls off?" or "When is all your hair going to fall off?"  I think it's funny that of all the things we told him would happen with me being sick, the hair thing is the one he remembers most.  I guess he's looking forward with anxious curiosity to seeing the new hairless me. 

To try to transition the boys into getting used to the coming changes, I've gone around the house with my hair pulled up, in hats or in wraps.  Yesterday, I wore a head wrap all day.  Kyle saw me and immediately said, "Mom, you look pretty.  I like your hat."  That really helped to brighten my day, especially since yesterday was just a little unpleasant all day.  I'm not used to having headaches very often, but I seem to get them--dull, pounding, stressful ones--just about everyday.  I'm really only supposed to take Tylenol, and that just doesn't seem to knock them out. 

A few weeks ago, I got a package that my sister sent me with a bright and colorful head scarf in it.  I tried it on for fun.  Ryan came around the corner, stopped and stared, and said, "Mom!  You Jake!"  {Jake and the Neverland Pirates}  I'm feeling a great Halloween theme this year is in the works......

I also got a box from friend with breast cancer, a little further along in her journey than I.  We actually knew each other in Utah, in high school, and were even in the same church group.  She now lives in Texas, of all places, and connected with me through a common facebook friend and through this blog.  {The connections being made through this experience are blowing my mind!}  She sent a great wig that she never used and a few hats, too.  It's fun getting to try them out and slowly prepare myself for the hair loss.  How grateful I am for already being given so many tender mercies through this process!    

It's crazy that exactly one month ago today, I was meeting my oncologist for the first time, after only hearing my diagnosis of breast cancer the day before.  One of the hardest things to hit me was about losing my hair.  It's silly, I know, but something about that makes this whole idea of cancer and chemo "real."  If I wasn't Her2 +, the original chemo plan for FEC first would have already had me shaving my head.  I'm actually very grateful that I get to ease into the shock of the diagnosis, the aggressiveness of the treatment, the speed of everything moving forward, and still have some time to process the "new" me before I have to get used to the drastic physical changes, too.  I was able to get some family pictures taken, to take my time in accumulating some head accessories, and to have a few months with my hair, including going on our cruise in April.  I know the hair grows back, but I'm looking for small things to be glad for when there are many things to be scared/upset/worried about.  There are always things to be grateful for.   

As I was reading out of this daily devotional book I was given, the thought for the day is to remember the Lord's words: I AM WITH YOU.  It referenced Psalm 73: 23-26, but my favorite part was from verse 26: "My flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the strength of my heart."  I immediately thought about the ups and downs in this process--including the upcoming day when my "hair falls off" or "my flesh faileth." I don't have to worry about those things because I know that God is with me and gives me hope that He will be with me through this trial, giving me the strength I need to overcome it.  That makes something as insignificant as losing my hair much easier to bear.  

Tuesdays with Naqvi 3--In the Storm

3 rounds of Paclitaxel down.....9 to go. 

I didn't do a lot of deep pondering today or get very far on my reading goals during chemo, but I laughed, snacked, and had a lot of time to catch up with a friend.  Amber and I have known each other for over 20 years.  Crazy!!!  I'm so glad she was able to make it down for this trip that was planned B.C.  Too bad the fun of the originally planned trip was interrupted a bit by this darn chemo.  We were able to squeeze in a few fun things and plenty a fair amount of chips and queso and a few appointments with Dr. Pepper.    

 I got to try out my new chemo shoes and the awesome neck pillow---{not pictured.}

Amber was hoping to get away from the wintry weather of Utah's storms.  She came down to windy, chilly, rainy weather--not much of a reprieve.  We kept asking, "are these storms ever going to stop?  Will we get ONE day without rain?"  In relation to this question, one thought I've had in my weekly studies, still on Faith, was about another analogy to this chemo trial.  I've thought about this time as one of life's tempests, being stuck in a storm.  Difficult times are stormy, as if we are caught in the midst of dark clouds, heavy wind, soaking rain, and sailing on troubled waters.  As I read some conference talks given to be by my mom for pick-me-ups and on faith/trusting in the Lord during this trial, I found a few references to being In the Storm:

Jeffrey R. Holland talked of "God's love and the Savior's power to calm the storm.  Always remember that in that biblical story that He was out there on the water also, that He faced the worst of it right along with the newest and youngest and most fearful.  Only one who has fought against those ominous waves is justified in telling us--as well as the sea--to "be still." {Mark 4:39} Only one who has taken the full brunt of such adversity could ever be justified in telling us in such times to "be of good cheer."  {John 16:33}

I know these stories, having heard them a hundred times, but what a different perspective to truly think about Christ being on the ship in the same storm as his disciples.  He was in the worst of it with them, not worried--sleeping even--knowing things would pass.  But, when the storm and the tempest became too rough for his friends to bear, He stepped forward and eased the storm.  As He was with the disciples in their storm, He is with us in our dark and stormy nights of life.  He has not only experienced the fear and weathered the storm--he can see the light on the other side and can calm the winds and the waves.

Richard G. Scott spoke about trusting in the Lord and mentioned something that spoke to me of being in the storm and seeing the silver linings that promise of calm and bright days ahead.  "[The Lord] will place in your paths packets of spiritual sunlight to brighten your way.  They often come after the trial has been the greatest, as evidence of the compassion and love of an all-knowing Father.  They point the way to greater happiness, more understanding, and strengthen your determination to accept and be obedient to His will."

Packets of spiritual sunlight.  I love the image those words place in my mind of the streams of light breaking though the darkest of skies, of small openings of sunshine piercing through the thickest of storm clouds.  At those times of the heaviest storms, we are often buoyed up and given some tender mercies on which to hold as we forge ahead.

And from where does this light come?
  
Elder Holland continued, "There really is light at the end of the tunnel.  It is the Light of the World, the Bright and Morning Star, the "light that is endless, that can never be darkened."  It is the very Son of God Himself....To any who may be struggling to see that light and find that hope, I say: Hold on.  Keep trying .  God loves you.  Things will improve." 

Amen, Amen.  Hold on through the storm.  The Light will come. 

Until next week, I'll be looking for those packets of spiritual light through the storm clouds of my life.  

Life | Art

I have some amazingly talented friends!  There are so many ways that people have already given so much service to me and my family, and it has been so touching and powerful to witness people using their individual talents to serve. 

One of my friends--Amber H.--is a talented photographer.  She had the idea to document this breast cancer journey as art, an intimate expression of the experience.  I LOVE pictures and love documenting things, so I jumped on the chance to tell the story without being forced to use a thousand words.

For the first session, Amber asked me to give her a few words that described how I was feeling within the first week of my diagnosis.  This was my response:  shocked, overwhelmed, comforted, strengthened, positive, loved.  From there, we basically tried to show those emotions and tell the story through the photos. 

This was a stretch for me, as I've never been much of an actor, and trying to pose with an emotion wasn't the easiest thing for me.  This was done after my big breakdown, and I think I had cried so much that I had no more tears. 

The stress, sadness, fear, and shock is definitely a huge part of the journey.  It's hard to deal with everything some days. 

But, I'm constantly reminded of the love and support I have, as well as my many blessings, faith, and the importance of having a positive attitude about it all. 

It will be interesting to see the art that continues to be made out of this small journey of my life.

In the Fire

I like analogies, okay?

Besides feeling like "I'm in a fog," on days, I've also described this experience as "a refiner's fire."  Trials in life are sometimes brought on by our choices or the choices of others.  Sometimes difficult things--things beyond our control or understanding--do just happen.  I believe it is in these painful/frustrating moments when we must endure certain trials to teach us, to humble us, to test our faith, to stretch us beyond what we thought possible, and to help us grow and become stronger.    

This cancer for me is one of those latter times of trial, more of a trial of fire.  The crazy thing about cancer and chemo is that the analogy of fire, a refiner's fire, becomes almost literal, as these chemicals are being pumped through my body, burning through cells, to refine by body and purge out the tumor.  It burns at times.  It's painful.  But, if I choose to not go through the pain of the treatment, I will die from the impurity of cancer.  

A few days after first writing about feeling like I am going through "the refiner's fire," I read a quote from another woman's story that perfectly described this analogy:

I have compared this situation many times to being in a fire and have asked these questions over and over: Who can withstand this type of heat? How long can we withstand this fire?
 God answered these questions for me in the following message from our dear friend from church: Malachi 3:3 says: "And he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver.." This verse puzzled some women in a Bible study and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God. One of the women offered to find out the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible Study. 
That week, the woman called a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention anything about the reason for her interest beyond her curiosity about the process of refining silver. As she watched the silversmith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest as to burn away all the impurities. 
The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot; then she thought again about the verse that says: "He sits as a refiner and purifier of silver." She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined. The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. If the silver was left a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed. The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silversmith, "How do you know when the silver is fully refined?" He smiled at her and answered, "Oh, that's easy -- when I see my image in it."

  
I was so touched by how the silversmith described his role in the process and how this relates to Christ, as The Great Refiner, in our lives.  

I decided to do a little more study on the subject of a refiner and fire.  Since her story started with a question from a Bible study, I decided to start my search there.  I read ahead of the phrase she quoted to note that only those who withstand the refining and purifying will abide the day of His coming:    

Mal 3:2-3

But who may abide the day of his coming? and who shall stand when he appeareth? for he is like a refiner’s fire, and like fullers’ soap: And he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver....

We must endure the trials to pass the test, but we have faith that He sits and watches us, knowing the exact amount of pressure and heat that each of us can stand, so that we CAN stand when He appeareth. 
This next verse tells that these trials of our faith are so that we can be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Christ.  I also find it interesting how our faith is to be held more precious than gold, though the trial of our faith is tried with fire. 

1 Peter 1:7
That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ:

 When we have impurities (or tumors), the Lord will purge them away to make us pure.  

Isaiah 1: 25
And I will turn my hand upon these, and purely purge away they dross, and take away all thy tin

 Christ has refined us through our afflictions and has chosen us for our trials, so that we may might learn to call on His name and be His people. 

Isaiah 48:10
Behold, I have refined thee, but not with silver; I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction.

 Zech 13:9
I will refine them as silver is refined, and will try them as gold is tried: they shall call on my name, and I will hear them: I will say, It is my people: and they shall say, The Lord is my God.

 There are biblical and historical references to being put through trials of fire.  The Judgement Day is described as a time of being judged by fire and either revealed to be gold/silver/precious jewels or wood/hay/stubble to be consumed by the flames.  It seems that this life is a test and we constantly have things to learn and work to do to become better people.  Sometimes things hurt.  Sometimes we fall down.  Sometimes it's hard to keep going. 

On my day of Breakdown, I heard a song that I'd heard before, but it suddenly had more meaning and has become somewhat of an anthem for me to never give up.  You might know it, too:

Where there is desire
There is gonna be a flame
Where there is a flame
Someone's bound to get burned
But just because it burns
Doesn't mean you're gonna die
You've gotta get up and try try try
Gotta get up and try try try
You gotta get up and try try try

I have a great desire to live life--for me and for my family and friends.  This does suck a lot of days, and it does burn.  But, the burning isn't going to kill me.  Giving up would.  I have to get up and keep on trying each day to make it.  I have to face the heat and stay true to my core values or crush under the pressure.  I know I can because Christ is sitting there watching and holding me, ready to pull me out of the heat if the fire gets to be more than I can bear.  

In the Fog

The weather has been interesting lately.  We've had days and days of rain, too warm weather for winter, cold/windy weather, and also quite a bit of mornings with heavy fog.  I hadn't paid too much attention to the fog until it was becoming a factor in getting me to and from treatments.

Once I really started noticing the fog, I was aware of the ways other people were noticing it, too. Of course, I've used the phrase, "like I'm in a fog" to describe some of how I've been feeling in the last month.  I've been overwhelmed, blown away, and stressed, just trying to make it one day at a time.

Other than just using that common fog phrase, I picked up on even more of the fog analogy.

A few days after being in a mental fog and experiencing the actual fog, a friend made a facebook post about her own fog analogy.  I hope she doesn't mind me sharing--{Thanks, Shannan!}

The thick fog that only gave me about 10 feet visibility offered so much perspective this morning...there was all the allegorical symbolism of riding into the unknown, of knowing the trail but having to watch it vigilantly for unknown danger, of the solace of coming upon a distant light shining through the misty grey like a safe harbor...but there was also this rare beauty...the sound of the collected dew dripping from the trees, the utter silence on the blackest parts of the trail, the surprising beauty of the way the individual droplets glittered in my hair and on my skin every time I passed within even the palest beam of light...so when I arrived drenched and with my make-up running down my face at work and people gasped: " You RODE in this?"...I can say: "Yep...and it was awesome."

Even though I wasn't at a point to comment or even "like" this post, I immediately related because we had fog here that morning, and the analogy was fitting to my current trial and the only way to really deal with it.  I have to keep on keeping on, even when I can't see what's ahead of me.  Like fog, this cancer is unexpected, not normal, an inconvenience, possibly dangerous, and makes things harder.  It slows you down and puts you on high-alert.  There is an added measure of stress, for sure, but you can't just stop.  You keep moving forward.  I also liked how Shannan reminded me to enjoy the beautiful blessings this fog has not removed from my life, the tender mercies--especially my family and friends.

Intriuingly, it was the very next day that my mom had her own fog experience.  She told me about it on the phone, and the connection between it all was pretty striking, so much so that I asked her to write it down. 
{Part of this is very hard for me.  I usually feel very independent, able to make things work, not "needing" to call my Mommy at every hard minute of every day.  Even after being diagnosed with cancer, I was keeping it together pretty well and was still trying to help other people deal with the news, not even totally freaking out when there was a set-back on my mom getting here to be with me.  I was more worried about having my kids taken care of than of having someone to take care of me.  But, even though I am an adult and have children of my own, I have to step back and remember that I will always be my mother's daughter, and that motherly concern and instincts are the same whether your babies are 3 or 33.  This fog of cancer is truly affecting so many people, just like an actual fog does, and I have to remember that I'm not the only one that is hurting.}

Mom's Analogy:

On Monday morning, I was driving to work on I-15 and it was very foggy.  (I could barely see two cars ahead!) I felt very heavy-laden by the oppressive “mists of darkness,” plus I was having a hard time going back to work after the week in Houston helping Melodee & her family.  As I merged onto the freeway, I had the thought that this situation feels a lot like how my life feels right now: I feel surrounded by fog, not feeling sure about anything.  I can only see a few feet in front of me and I have to slow down in order to travel safely.  I have to keep going because, if I stop, someone could run into me & both of us would be hurt.
But there are things to be grateful for: I am driving a car with a heater so I can stay warm.  The headlights pierce enough of the fog that I can keep driving. I can trust the road I am on as long as I stay within the lines.  And I have faith that the fog will lift and I will be able to see clear blue skies again!
So it is with life:  Sometimes life “presses” down on us really hard: we can’t see very far into our future so we have to slow down & take it one day (or one minute!) at a time.  We can’t stop-we must keep going so we won’t be hurt OR we won’t hurt others. But we have help: we have guidance from Heavenly Father & Jesus Christ (“light”) and from the scriptures & the prophets (“the road to follow”).  We have temporal blessings that enable us to keep going. And we have the faith to know that we will come through the trials of life and the sun (“Son”) will shine again!
P.S. My drive home on Monday was completely clear-very different from the morning commute!  “Hold on, the Light will come!”

Today is an especially hard day.  I am in a heavy mental and physical fog--still feeling sick with a cough/congestion.  My head is aching.  A few strong smells nearly made me vomit a few times this morning, and my stomach is still unsettled.  A little bit of stress from yesterday has left me with tension and tightness in my neck and shoulders.  Basically, I'm feeling the day-after affects of the chemo plus the shot, they are slowing me down, and I don't like it! 

One of the hardest parts of this is how I feel about being a sick mom and not being fair to my children.  I want them to be happy, well taken care of, and free from the stress of a mom who just can't do everything she's always been able to do.  The fog is affecting them, too, and it doesn't seem fair!

The fog will lift.  We will keep moving forward, one moment at a time, following the paths we know and looking to the light of Christ and putting faith and trust that He can see what we can't.  Other than being more aware of the dangers in the fog, slowing down, and continuing to move forward, another bit of advice I've heard when driving foggy conditions is to NOT turn the bright lights on.  What, in theory, might seem like the best answer, the easy way--getting more light--actually makes things worse.  You have to use the low lights, slow down, and sometimes even stop until the worst of things passes. 

So it is with this fog of cancer.  We can't just do a quick and easy fix of cutting this tumor out and being done with it.  There is no way to just plow my way through and have the inconvenience gone.  I have to take the weekly doses of chemo, keep dealing with the discomfort, keep my eyes peeled, and keep moving forward.

Right now it's hard to see any light at the end of this journey.  I know it's out there somewhere.    

Tuesdays with Naqvi 2

We are on countdown for the first round of chemo!
Two of the first set of sessions are complete, which means there are only 10 more of those to go!

I'm at chemo by myself today, and am thinking about how nice it was for  my mom to get to bring me on my first time.  Even though I'm somewhat of a homebody and enjoy my quiet time, it was nice to not be alone at the beginning.


My vitals were normal today, even though a little higher--BP 120-something/60 something.  Maybe I'm more stressed than I thought!  I also gained 3 lbs.  That's right.  GAINED!  I guess the healing properties of Mexican food, real Dr. Pepper, and chocolate only work on mental/emotional health.  Or, maybe I need to get off the couch and stop eating bon-bons and watching soaps all day long.  Ha!

I've received quite a few questions about how I'm doing and how I feel with chemo.  I have to honestly say that things are going pretty well!  I feel a little bit more tired than usual and have been queasy just a couple of times.  I kept waiting for the bottom to fall out last week, to feel crummy on the day after or day 3--the days other people have said were their worst--or to just have my own negative experience of an unpleasant/sick/tired/awful/especially hard day.  Thankfully, that wasn't the case last week.  {It had something to do with all the prayers being said for me, I'm sure!}

We did have the sickness return to the house, which was my only real complaint.  Evan and Ryan both went into the doctor on Friday, after coughing and snotting since Tuesday--ear infections and upper respiratory junk.  Kyle should've gone in with them because he developed it on Saturday.  I also started feeling pretty poorly on Friday, and called Dr. Naqvi.  She prescribed something right away.  {On a side note: this is something I enjoy about all of this: the prompt medical care.  I can play the "cancer card" and get pretty much whatever I need without having to drive all the way down here for an actual doctor visit.  It reminds me of how my OB/GYN was during pregnancy and even while nursing.  I love all that extra care and medical attention during times of delicate health conditions.  That's another silver lining in all of this.}  I am sure that if I didn't feel so crummy with congestion/sore throat/coughing/sneezing/upper respiratory junk that my boys gave me, I would be handling things fairly well.  The only few true complaints I've had are that the immunity booster shot causes the bones to mass-produce white blood cells in preparation for the chemo to wipe a bunch of them out, and that gave me a few aches and pains--mostly in my hips/legs.  I've also had what feels like a constant headache most of the week.  Sleeping has been a little difficult with all the coughing, but Xanax is a wonderful thing, and I'm on meds to take care of this infection.

Today's chemo is flying by!  I started right at 10 this morning.  The needle hurt a bit more this week--even though I put extra cream on it.  {After I thought about the stick from last week, I really was surprised that it hurt even as much as it did, with the numbing cream on there for 2 hours before.  Maybe I'm a wimp.}  My cocktail today included a little less Benadryl, so I only felt truly sleepy for a short time.  It's interesting that there was also some Zantac mixed in.  Talk about literal heartburn!  I slept maybe 30 minutes, but was more aware of what was going on around me--not totally zonked out this time.  I feel much more productive and less out of things today, thankfully.

Since I have this mandatory time each week to be hooked up to these drugs and unable to do much of anything else, I'm really trying to make good use of my "Mother's Day Out" days.  Of course, it's fun to play games and do mindless things, but I've set a little bit of a goal to do positive and uplifting things, too.  I got called to serve the young women in our ward as their Personal Progress leader right before I was diagnosed with cancer.  I literally had my first meeting with the Young Women President to learn about my roles for this calling a few hours before hearing about my breast cancer for the first time.  I don't believe there are many coincidences in life, and I feel like this was something that I was meant to do this year.   I have also felt very inspired to work on completing the Personal Progress goals right along with the girls.  I would really love to receive my Young Woman Recognition under this new program, as a leader, especially since I don't have any daughters of my own to assist in the goal-making and keeping as a mother.  How blessed I have been to start with the value of Faith, reading scriptures about faith and seeing it from a new perspective.  Some of my favorite lines from my studies today:


Hebrews 11:1  "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." 

I have hope that this cancer will be healed and that God will bless me and my family through this trial, and there is evidence of His work in our lives, even though we can't see everything.

Hebrews 11 goes on to summarize basically the whole Old Testament, mostly beginning each story with "through faith...."

Verse 33-39 sums up basically some serious trials of believers:
"who through faith
subdued kingdomes,
wrought righteousness,
obtained promises,
stopped the mouths of lions,
quenched the violence of fire,
escaped the edge of the sword,
OUT OF WEAKNESS WERE MADE STRONG,
waxed valiant in fight,
turned to flight the armies of aliens.
Women received their dead raised to life again;
and others were tortured....
and others had a trial of cruel mockings and scourgings....
they were stoned,
they were sawn asunder,
were tempted,
were slain with the sword,
they wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins; being destitute, afflicted, tormented;
they wandered in deserts and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth.  

And these all, having obtained a good report through faith:
God having provided some better thing for us, that they without us should not be made perfect."


That long list of awful trials is much worse than a little Stage 2B cancer.  I'm not wandering, destitute, in the wilderness in only sheepskin.  I don't have to worry about being slain by the sword or have to escape the mouths of lions.  I have the best medical care, the best support, and I know that I WILL obtain a "good report through faith" when my treatment is complete.  He wants me to go through this because I will grow and there will be something better for me, to be made more perfect.


From the Book of Mormon:
Alma 32: 21: "And now as I said concerning faith--faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true."


Alma 32: 34: {talking about an experiment of faith--putting your faith to work and seeing the good results, one area/principle at a time.}
"And now, behold, is your knowledge perfect?  Yea, your knowledge is perfect in that thing, and  your faith is dormant; and this because you know, for ye know that the words hath swelled your souls, and ye also know that it hath sprouted up, that your understanding doth begin to be enlightened, and your mind doth begin to understand." 

I love the idea of having faith turn to knowledge about something because you have experienced it, learned it.  Once you know something to be true, you don't have to just hope it's true.  You KNOW it, so faith is dormant.  Somehow "dormant" stood out to me in relation to cancer because I immediately wondered how long these cells have been dormant in my body and for what purpose they started to aggressively grow now.  The phrase about faith "sprouted up, that your understanding doth begin to be enlightened and your mind doth begin to understand" applied to that, also.  The more I understand about this cancer and the treatment for it, the better I understand why the Lord has chosen this trial for my life.

Ether 12:6 "Faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until AFTER the trial of your faith."

Obviously, there are many questions about this trial that we will not have answered or understand until after the trial of our faith.  That is very difficult sometimes, but amazing and humbling to be able to look back after that trial has passed.  We look forward to that day with hope. 

I felt very good about my "Me Day" today---some thank you cards written, studied a little about faith, talked to some people on the phones, had a few snacks, took a little nap, and filled the rest of the time by checking facebook, pinterest, and playing a little Plants vs. Zombies.  Not a bad day--minus that pesky chemo.  My new ipad, complete with the PINK keyboard cover came in very handy today.  And chocolate.  That was delicious, too!  Love it!

Only complaints: the needle was a bit painful around the tumor was pretty uncomfortable and even bit painful today.  I'm starting to get that metallic taste in my mouth.  Maybe that will help with the weight loss!  Also, Lilith Medusa {my tumor} knows we're coming for her and was throwing a fit.  We're smoking that monster out, one week at a time!

P.S.  Speaking of smoking the monsters out: We caught the mouse!  My house has been reenforced with all kinds of anti-rodent barricades: traps, poison packs, peppermint oil, high-pitched sound devices.  Those little pests can find new homes because they are not welcome here.     


*After chemo, I walked next door to visit briefly with Dr. Pollack, just a post-op appointment to make sure I'm healing up and there's no problems.  The nurse cut out the one external stitch, and Dr. Pollack just checked the port area and the biopsy spot.  She said it's healing up and there's even less bruising than she expected.  She restated what we already knew that there are tumors in the axillary lymph nodes, but that simply confirms what the scan predicted.  My stage is still 2B, and nothing in the treatment will change from this confirmation. 

Power in Prayer

Every month, our church has a "Fast Sunday."  It is usually held on the first Sunday of the month, and church members fast--go without food and drink for two meals--and donate the equivalent cost, or more, to the Church to assist the poor and needy.
Fasting without prayer is just going hungry, so this specific fasting comes prayer, often for a specific purpose, question, or concern.  Fasting with faith in receiving an answer from Heavenly Father helps us be more humble and receive His guidance.
Often, when there is a specific need/question in a family, that entire family will fast and pray together in the same purpose.  I've also experienced prayer requests from groups of friends and even entire church families gathering together to pray for one person or family.  There is power in faithful prayer--and in the faith of many.  I've seen it.
Tomorrow is Fast Sunday in our church.  If any of you are so inclined--and of proper health to do so--I would encourage you to join my family in a specific fast and prayer for this cancer.  If you are simply inclined to pray or have a prayer in your heart, I ask that you focus that power of prayer in our direction and join your thoughts and voices with many others in sending up prayers to our Father in Heaven tomorrow.
There have been thoughts and prayers from loved ones asking why I have to go through this, if this could be removed from me and taken on by someone else, or that the test results would come back negative or even that a mistake was made and this wasn't cancer after all.  Just because those prayers haven't been answered in the exact way they have been requested doesn't mean that God isn't answering prayers--maybe just in different ways or by holding me in His arms and giving me strength and comfort.
This cancer is something my family and I are going to have to endure.  As one of Kyle's favorite songs says, "We can't go over it...can't go under it....can't go around it.  We gotta go through it."  We just need the strength to overcome this trial.
I believe there is great strength from exercising faith and putting that faith in prayer.  I ask you to join us in prayer requests for me, for Stephen, for our boys, and for my extended family--for strength to endure, for good health, for energy to go about as many of our normal daily routines as possible, for special blessings the Lord may see fit for us.  We should also pray for the doctors and other medical professionals who will be helping my body to heal, that they will be guided in giving me the best health care possible and be able to remove the cancer and keep me healthy.  Prayers for those who will assist in this process in their amazing service to my family will also be offered. All of us can pray, and some of the most touching prayers have been offered by my children.  The other day, Ryan said, "mommy sick.  help mommy not be sick.  feel better."  My heart about burst open.  Kyle's prayers have been so genuine and pure, too.  I think there must be some direct line, a "favorites," of prayers from children to our Father in Heaven.  If children can pray with such faith and purity, we all  can. 
The church meeting on Fast Sunday offers church members to bear testimony about the Savior and of ways that they have been blessed and learned more.  I look forward to that Sunday and felt impressed to share my testimony in January---before I was diagnosed with cancer--even though there just wasn't time and something came up with one of the boys.  I remember thinking something about how we never know how our actions can affect others and how we can influence our family members, friends, and neighbors by our integrity, service, cheerfulness, being good parents, etc.  I wasn't able to publicly share my testimony in January in front of my ward family, and it looks like I won't be able to do so tomorrow, as I've come down with the same upper respiratory junk that Evan and Ryan both have.  It's probably better to just keep this beast contained, so we will probably all be staying home.   However, I do have a testimony and will try to continue to share the many ways I've been blessed, even if I just record them here. 

I know I cannot go through this journey alone.  I have faith that our Father in Heaven hears and answers prayers, and I ask you to excersie your faith, too.  

An Apple a Day

 I really have been showered with so many gifts lately.  Who knew I only had to have breast cancer to get so much attention?!?  As my Dad said, "You're done having babies, so I guess you had to come up with some creative way to get your mom to fly down to Texas more often!"

Seriously, though, I'm beyond grateful for all the amazing service, gifts, and love.

When my mom flew in, she came bearing gifts, and was all excited about me opening them--and documenting my reactions.   

New pink jewelry from my Mom and Dad

And, a big one from my siblings.  

 I noticed the smiley face-turned apple on the front, and read the thoughtful card.  It wasn't until I got to to part that was added....."We thought you could use a smile {and an iPad.}"  that I realized the meaning of the picture.  What the...what?!?  An iPad?

I was BLOWN AWAY!  First of all, kudos on the surprise.  It's very rare, indeed, that someone is able to surprise me so well.  I seriously had NO CLUE about this.  Props.  Secondly, I was--and still am--a bit speechless.  Thank you, thank you.

They say, "An apple a day keeps the doctor away."  Maybe this was the apple I was in need of--one that will help me through this cancer process and be able to keep the doctors away in the future!

A Few Days After

A book I read on chemo suggested to keep records of how you feel/react, so you can report back to your doctor and better treat any symptoms that may arise.  I figured my blog is a good place to do this, since I'm already recording information here, and it serves the purpose of answering questions from family and friends about my condition.

This same book also advised to not try to over-do things, multi-task, or stress too much while on chemo.  I think the author was obviously NOT talking to a 33-year old mother of 3 boys.  Isn't "over-doing, multi-tasking, and stress" part of the job description?   

The day after chemo, I felt pretty well--well enough to get to go out to lunch!  My biggest complaints were with pain/discomfort not even truly related to the chemo itself--at the port site, probably since my surgery only happened 5 days prior and I'd just had a needle with drugs pumped in for 4 hours the day before.  I also had lower back cramps from being a 33 year-old woman who still has menstrual cycles and just happened to have that cycle work *perfectly* with the first round of chemo for breast cancer.  Seriously, what else could happen, right?

I should've known better than to ask.

I had to go back to my doctor's office to get the day-after chemo shot.  Right in the gut.  Not fun.  About an hour after that, I ended up feeling exhausted and a little nauseous, so Stephen took the boys out for dinner.  Both younger boys seemed to be getting sick.

This morning, I had a screaming headache and a sore throat to add to the list of *fun.*  {The headache was probably due, in part, to trying to cut out my daily Dr. Pepper, since the same chemo book suggested it was better to stay away from sodas.}  In addition to me not feeling well, the 2 younger boys were definitely sick, and Kyle said he had a runny nose.  Even Granna needed some cold medicine!

While I went to get my weekly pre-chemo blood work done, I dropped the boys off at their doctor with Granna and Aunt Emmy.  Both have upper respiratory problems/ear infections and are now on amoxicillin.  Didn't we JUST get over being sick?!?  Maybe we'll get it knocked out before I end up getting too sick.  That's *all* I need!

Sick kids in the house, menstrual cramps, and a caffeine detox headache?  Something had to give.  Momma needed a Dr. Pepper!  Soon after, all began to be right in the world again---at least well enough that I wasn't over-doing it or over-stressing too much in my multi-tasking!