less cancer. more birthdays.

So I'm participating in Relay for Life this weekend. I've never done it before. Relay for Life is the signature fundraising activity of the American Cancer Society, which exists to create a world with less cancer and more birthdays. It's an all-night event where teams of participants camp out and take turns walking around a track (or running, if you're weird enough to feel like running middle of the night) to raise money for ACS, and thus raise money for cancer research. I, of course, am a fan of this because there is very little research being done on the disease that currently threatens my mother's life, and I believe that is the primary reason for pancreatic cancer's terribly low survival rate.

Relays also provide an opportunity to remember those that we've lost to cancer and to celebrate and support those who are surviving. They take place during the night to symbolize the reality that cancer never sleeps. Relays are smaller events than fundraisers like Race for the Cure and take place in smaller communities (for instance, Memphis has one Race but several different Relays).

Our friend Cindi is heading up a team in Germantown's Relay for Life this Saturday, April 30th. The event starts at 6pm and lasts 'til 6am. If you live around here and aren't busy Saturday night, you should probably make plans to be there, because the event spokesperson will give a speech and then kick off the event by leading the Survivor Lap . . . and that spokesperson is none other than the famous Tricia! Yep, my mother the hero will be there to tell her survivor story (umm, do they know she's gone three rounds with two different types of cancer over the last ten years? Better bring some popcorn, folks - this could take a while.) And since she can't sleep at night anyway, she'll be on our team, too.* It's not too late to join our team so click here if you want to come hang out with us! The theme of the event is "Saddle Up for a Cure" and our team name is "Cowgirls - Spur for a Cure."** You don't have to be a cowgirl to be on our team, though - cowboys are welcome, too. And you also don't have to stay all night. You actually don't even have to join our team or be signed up at all to come play. Apparently it's a big party with food, music, craft booths, face painting, games, etc., and participants are encouraged to bring their friends and families (that's you!).

If you want to help out, you can do so by a) joining our team, b) donating to our team, or c) purchasing a luminaria, and you can do any or all of these things at this site. To donate in support of a certain person, just click on his/her name and then click "donate" near the top of the page. You can order a luminaria to remember someone who's been lost to cancer or to honor or support a survivor. Luminaria are lighted paper bags with names on them. They line the track and are lit during the Ceremony of Hope.

By the way, if you also click on that link, you might notice that our team is currently in first place for fundraising! :-)

Facebook/email/text/call Trish or Cindi or me if you need more details. Hope to see some of you there! I can't wait!


*How amazing is it that Trish actually feels well enough to stay up all night hanging out with her friends?

**Hear me when I say this: our team name is in no way a reference to the San Antonio Spurs. In fact, I suspect several of us will have no voices on Saturday night due to the loud cheering we will be doing for the Grizzlies tomorrow night. If you show up to the Relay in Spurs attire, it's very likely that you will be asked to leave. Or at least shunned. Don't say I didn't warn you. ;-) 

tunnel. end. light.

Here it comes. In the midst of all this crazy stormy weather, here it comes. :)

the rest of the story (aka the latest doctor's appointment)

"Nothing . . . amazing . . . this is fabulous news . . . a blessing."

All words Dr. Tauer used to describe my mom's latest all clear CT scan last Monday. Mom didn't believe him at first, because she's been feeling this knot in her abdomen that she just knew was cancer. She was all ready to negotiate with Dr. T which chemo she would and wouldn't take again, ha. Turns out the "knot" is a stent that was placed in her pancreatic duct during the Whipple. It has since migrated out of said duct into her intestines. No big deal, apparently. Dr. T says we'll just leave it there as long as it's not hurting anything.

Dr. Tauer continues to be amazed that a)there's been no recurrence of Mom's pancreatic cancer in the last 6 months, and b)there's been no recurrence of Mom's already-recurred-once breast cancer in the last 6 years! However, as great as that news is, he's still cautious. For most cancers, this is probably the point where he would switch to scans every 6 months; but, given the high recurrence rate of pancreatic cancer, Dr. T wants to do another scan on Trish in 3 months. So . . . July 18th is the next big scan day to be praying about!

Trish is doing great, by the way. She's pretty much back to normal with the exception of her sleepless nights. She still has trouble sleeping, so Dr. T gave her another new medicine to try. She was not impressed with it and gave up on after just two nights. Oh well. Insomnia is a walk in the park compared to everything else she's been through lately. 

Oh, and her breast cancer and pancreatic cancer tumor markers were both normal. 

A friend of ours ran into Dr. Tauer later last week and asked him, "Are you the one who's been keeping my friend Tricia alive for the last ten years?"

"No," Dr. T replied. "That's the Lord."

Amen, Dr. Tauer. Amen.

best news ever

"He is not here; He has risen!" Luke 24:6



I could listen to this song over and over and over and over and never get tired of hearing it. Isn't this the best news ever?

Happy Easter, everyone!

Stop what you're doing and tell God He's awesome.

Trish's scan today showed NOTHING!!! No cancer! It was totally clear! :-)

believe the unbelievable

The morning finds me here at Heaven's door 
A place I've been so many times before.
Familiar thoughts and phrases start to flow 
And carry me to places that I know so well.
But dare I go where I don't understand? 
And do I dare remember where I am?
I stand before the great eternal throne 
The one that God Himself is seated on 
And I, I've been invited as a son 
Oh I, I've been invited to come and...

Believe the unbelievable 
Receive the inconceivable 
And see beyond my wildest imagination 
Lord, I come with great expectations.

-"Great Expectations", Steven Curtis Chapman

seven months later

My mom's Whipple was seven months ago today. Seven months. It seems like years ago that we sat in that waiting room as Mom's surgeon worked "like a bulldog" (Dr. Tauer's words) to remove every trace of cancer that he could see. What he could see. Dr. T is always quick to remind us that Dr. Behrman's eyes are not microscopes (Dr. Behrman, on the other hand, is quick to remind us that he is awesome and did what he went in there to do, ha!). Satan is quick to remind us of all the depressing statistics associated with pancreatic cancer. Still, we hope anyway. We hope because the God we put our trust in seven months ago is still here, and we still trust Him.

Tomorrow morning Trish will have her second CT scan since surgery. As it was stated at my brother's church this morning, every scan is big. The first one was done at the end of her chemo treatments and was all clear! This will be her first scan since being off chemo for three months. We'd love for you to pray with us and trust with us and hope with us and believe with us. I mean, tomorrow is Monday after all, so you'll probably be praying for Trish anyway. You can never count on the clinic being on schedule, but, if they are, we should know something by noon. Pray for another clear scan. Pray for peace for my family and for us to trust God completely. Pray that He will continue to reveal His glory through this journey and that we will never stop praising Him for it. :-)

I thank God every day for every person praying. Love you all. I'll update tomorrow!

Life is good.

Dad: "Hey, Chase, what does your shirt say?"

(silence)

Dad: "I know. It says 'Papa is good.'"

Chase: "No, it doesn't."

Dad: "What does it say then?"

Chase: "Soccer."


Hanging in Little Rock with the family, going to the soccer and baseball games of really cute children, trying to ignore the fact that Mom has a scan in two days.

Life is good.

my sickly doingreallywell parents

Sorry to leave you hanging on the outcome of my dad's surgery last Friday (seriously, though . . . was anyone really hanging?) - I forget that not everyone has facebook. Anyway, my dad's surgery went very well. He came home on Saturday morning and is doing just fine. Back to work. Now watching basketball. Thanks for your prayers. :-)

And don't forget . . .

 (From the desk of our friend Janet. Thanks, Janet!)