The fat lady is still silent . . .

It's not over.  Monday was a long day; a good day; tiring; not conclusive; and not completely what we wanted to hear.  Never mind the ridiculous schedule and that we were there from 9:45 a.m. to 3:00 p.m.  The great news is that the scan shows no disease and the tumor marker is consistent with the scan.  The disappointing news is that maintenance, which I fully anticipated, sounds almost as strenuous as the regimen just completed.

Honestly, by the time the doctor finally saw us, my brain had retired for the day.  It was hard to hear all he had to say and put it together in logical order.  I was to return to my Hattiesburg oncologist tomorrow and get started again with treatment, but that appointment has been changed until next Thursday instead.  The short version of the report is that I will continue with one of the two drugs I have been taking, but the administration of it will be slower:  what has been a one hour infusion will become and three hour infusion.  That is supposed to be easier on the body and help with the neuropathy in my hands and feet.  It's the same three weeks on, one week off schedule and I return to Jackson for another scan the end of January. 

I have prayed for grace and believe so completely that God is ever present and faithful that I was not afraid of the test results. I felt "high as a kite" hearing results, but hit the ground hard when learned the maintenance plan.  All the plans I had for resuming life as I had come to expect before chemo started again in May, suddenly crashed.  This past cycle has been harder than others, maybe because of the flu shot and everything in me screamed, "I'm tired and I'm tired of being tired."  Disappointment and discouragement oozed from every pore. 

Today is another day!  My quiet time this morning began with Jesus Calling that started with the words: I am with you; I am with you; I am with you, using the imagery of Jesus being our Shepherd.  Imagine being cared for by a shepherd.  When the sheep is weak, unable to care for itself, the shepherd carries it in his arms.  That image opened my closed mind.  I am the weakened sheep, Jesus is the Shepherd and He is carrying me.  Facing more treatment continues to be diaappointing, but the discouragment has been lifted.  Praise God for His constant and amazing care!

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret