Dear Friends and Family:
Took another short break after last week's sad news about the VTS chapel fire. So far, I haven't heard any reason for the fire, but it put me into a bit of a funk in light of the current destructive bent of the Church (Episcopal) as a whole.
But, back to the business at hand, and my ponderings concerning the results of my recent tests: (1) the multiple myeloma has been beaten 'way down (2) Implications are that I still have some myeloma, albeit not much and, (3) cancer, being cancer, has a way of being eventually corrosive to the well being of the host , so plans for the future need to be made.
Ah... to address the future. Doris Day, in the classic movie "The Man Who Knew Too Much", sang a song "Que Sera." The first line went thusly: "Que Sera, sera, whatever will be will be; the future's not ours to see. Que sera sera." The implication being that you needn't plan anything because what's already planned (by Fate) is going to occur, regardless. In fact, an old Jewish saying is: If you want to amuse God, make plans."
I am very excited about what's ahead, although I haven't any idea of what the future holds. I do think it prudent, however, to at least look at some of the things I likely won't do. That means addressing and pruning "the bucket list."
Here are just a couple of the things that I've always thought I wanted to do that I think circumstances (mostly money and age) dictate that I finally jettison:
Flying lessons: Costs a great deal of money to learn to fly and more to keep renting a plane often enough to remain proficient. My soaring will have to come at the I-Max theatre or in those rare but wonderful dreams wherein I congregate with eagles.
Around the World trip: In all probability I won't get to see the Great Wall of China, the Great Pyramids and sites of Egypt; Victoria Falls; St Petersburg, Russia; or, The Amazon. I'll have to depend on Rick Steves and his travelogs.
Learning another foreign language: German and French are out. I speak a moderate amount of Spanish which can be improved; I however, had a dickens of a time with Hebrew and Greek, and I haven't gotten any smarter in the meantime. Let them speak English, and a bit louder please.
There are still plenty others left in the bucket about which I can be more definite:
Yellowstone in Winter. (providing it hasn't blown us all away in the meantime!) That's where Amy and I met nearly 47 years ago, and where we hope to go for our 50th anniversary in the not too distant future.
I'll address the future more in subsequent editions but close this by a biblical reference: Ephesians 2:10: For we are God workmenship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do."
I think I'll not only prune some of my desires, I'll look more earnestly in that bucket for the things God has already prepared for me to do that I've been ignorant of or have been avoiding (like Jonah's refusal to go to Nineveh).
As an act of some determination, I have this week gone thru some of the "stuff" I collected in my top bureau drawer. Some of the items don't seem so precious now, but there are others that I still need to hold on to. Pray for me!
Thanks for your prayers and patience!
Faithfully,
Dick
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Blog #31 10/25/10 An interruption - the Chapel remembered
Dear Family and Friends
"We interrupt this broadcast with late breaking news! Today, we learned that...." I remember that during WWII a radio program that was interrupted by these words spoken in a somber steady tone could only mean something bad had happened. Whatever lighter program we were listening to had to be delayed.
I was in the process of speaking about my test results, their implications, and future plans in light of the previous two. I am going to delay the third part a bit because I am distracted by some sad news that I received over the weekend.
On Friday, Oct 21, the Virginia Theological Seminary's chapel burned to the ground in an unexplained and fast moving fire. Amy and I are aghast at the reality that that beautiful building no longer exists. For the three years of my seminary life, every class day began in that sacred space. Every Wednesday evening we sang for our supper, seated in those choir stalls. Many a family and educational issue were lifted to the Lord there. I sought the Lord's help in dealing with teenage kids and in passing Greek and Hebrew. I'll never forget praying with one of my professors there, at noon, just before a critical Greek test. To say "I found Jesus" there would not be irony.
But the most devastating aspect of this fire lies in the date - sixteen years to the very day of the last time I was in the chapel: our middle daughter Susie's wedding. On a beautiful October afternoon in 1994, with the entire East coast ablaze in radient fall colors, Susie walked down that aisle to meet her groom.
The first of our three daughters to marry, she had asked me to officiate. I wondered if I could "marry off" one of my precious children. Could I give her away to Arthur? It was in that struggle that I came to the fullest understanding of srewardship. She was never mine or Amy's to keep and hold forever. She was always God's child and given to us to raise until she chose someone to be her mate for the rest of her life. As her priviledged parents, we were only her stewards until her wedding day. What a blessed reality! Thank you Lord for that priviledge!
Of course, the wedding did present some minor issues. How could I walk her down the aisle and then ask, "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" and then proclaim "her mother and I do!" without sounding as if I were talking to myself? So, we had our good friend and former neighbor, Pastor Bill Graham do the initial greeting and inquiries.
Then shortly afterward, just prior to the reading of the Epistle, came a moment that became part of the seminary's wonderful history. From opposite the sacristy, mewing quietly and pleasantly, down the center between choir stalls came Baxter, the seminary cat, his collar bell jingling ever so audibly. He meandered in and stood momentarily beside Bill, looking up and around for recognition and a rewarding pat. All this provoked truly sacred amusement as everyone within reach wondered what to do. Then, after but a momentary debut, Baxter was scooped up by the acolyte and ferried out from whence he had come. At that moment all angst and tension fled, and nothing but joy and blessing prevailed.
I am sad that such a beautiful place is gone now. I am sad for all those alumni who remember it as I do, and sad for those present seminarians who came back this morning to the terrible reality that morning chapel would have to be in some new site.
But, the chapel was a building and not a life. (No one was injured in the blaze) The worship of the One true God and of His only Son Jesus can be and is done in the rudest of sites with every bit as much effectiveness. Praise God!
We do, however, have our pleasant memories. And we do have pictures of the wedding party (sans Baxter) taken in from of the altar. These will suffice.
"And now we return to our regularly scheduled program" (maybe tomorrow).
Your brother in Christ,
Dick
"We interrupt this broadcast with late breaking news! Today, we learned that...." I remember that during WWII a radio program that was interrupted by these words spoken in a somber steady tone could only mean something bad had happened. Whatever lighter program we were listening to had to be delayed.
I was in the process of speaking about my test results, their implications, and future plans in light of the previous two. I am going to delay the third part a bit because I am distracted by some sad news that I received over the weekend.
On Friday, Oct 21, the Virginia Theological Seminary's chapel burned to the ground in an unexplained and fast moving fire. Amy and I are aghast at the reality that that beautiful building no longer exists. For the three years of my seminary life, every class day began in that sacred space. Every Wednesday evening we sang for our supper, seated in those choir stalls. Many a family and educational issue were lifted to the Lord there. I sought the Lord's help in dealing with teenage kids and in passing Greek and Hebrew. I'll never forget praying with one of my professors there, at noon, just before a critical Greek test. To say "I found Jesus" there would not be irony.
But the most devastating aspect of this fire lies in the date - sixteen years to the very day of the last time I was in the chapel: our middle daughter Susie's wedding. On a beautiful October afternoon in 1994, with the entire East coast ablaze in radient fall colors, Susie walked down that aisle to meet her groom.
The first of our three daughters to marry, she had asked me to officiate. I wondered if I could "marry off" one of my precious children. Could I give her away to Arthur? It was in that struggle that I came to the fullest understanding of srewardship. She was never mine or Amy's to keep and hold forever. She was always God's child and given to us to raise until she chose someone to be her mate for the rest of her life. As her priviledged parents, we were only her stewards until her wedding day. What a blessed reality! Thank you Lord for that priviledge!
Of course, the wedding did present some minor issues. How could I walk her down the aisle and then ask, "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" and then proclaim "her mother and I do!" without sounding as if I were talking to myself? So, we had our good friend and former neighbor, Pastor Bill Graham do the initial greeting and inquiries.
Then shortly afterward, just prior to the reading of the Epistle, came a moment that became part of the seminary's wonderful history. From opposite the sacristy, mewing quietly and pleasantly, down the center between choir stalls came Baxter, the seminary cat, his collar bell jingling ever so audibly. He meandered in and stood momentarily beside Bill, looking up and around for recognition and a rewarding pat. All this provoked truly sacred amusement as everyone within reach wondered what to do. Then, after but a momentary debut, Baxter was scooped up by the acolyte and ferried out from whence he had come. At that moment all angst and tension fled, and nothing but joy and blessing prevailed.
I am sad that such a beautiful place is gone now. I am sad for all those alumni who remember it as I do, and sad for those present seminarians who came back this morning to the terrible reality that morning chapel would have to be in some new site.
But, the chapel was a building and not a life. (No one was injured in the blaze) The worship of the One true God and of His only Son Jesus can be and is done in the rudest of sites with every bit as much effectiveness. Praise God!
We do, however, have our pleasant memories. And we do have pictures of the wedding party (sans Baxter) taken in from of the altar. These will suffice.
"And now we return to our regularly scheduled program" (maybe tomorrow).
Your brother in Christ,
Dick
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Blog #30 10/21/10 Implications (of the test results)
Dear Family and Friends:
(2) Implications of the Test Results
The tests done three weeks ago revealed that although the multiple myeloma had been dealt a tremendous whallop, the disease still exists in my system. I still have bone cancer. In fact, I still have two cancers: Bone and prostate (so far minute, being dealt with by shots of Luperon).
Not so long ago, the implication of such news would have resulted in the anticipation of painful and ineffective treatment and an inevitable and grusome death.
That, thankfully, is no longer the inevitable truth in all cases of cancer today. It might be, however, for those who those who did not get or perhaps ignored early warnings and did not get early diagnosis and treatment. And some cancers are just plain awful from start to finish and are agonizing for patient and family. Truly sad. My heart and prayers go out to them.
For me, early detection, the slow advance of the disease, and the development of newer and less traumatic drugs have given me a brighter outlook, even if the advance of the disease is inevitable (according to the doctor). I thank you Lord Jesus for that mercy!
The test results are clear: "Dick, you still have active cancer cells in your body."
The implications of the test results and of the reality of mortal flesh are also clear: "Dick, you aren't going to get out of this alive! You are, in fact, dying."
That awareness, however, is more truly a blessed reminder, than a devastation. I am "winding down." "The sand is passing through the pinch in the glass." And thus it has been since my birth. That said, I don't see me adopting the morose mindset of the 17th Century meta-physical poets who held that life was from birth a steady march toward the obscurity of inevitable death.
Knowing and accepting that this life always ends in death, I would rather use these test results as a wake up call to be more aware of life. In my next post, I will refer to the metaphysical poet John Donne who penned the famous words, "Therefore, never send to find for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee," and speak of future plans.
Thanks for you many prayers and support.
Faithfully,
Dick
(2) Implications of the Test Results
The tests done three weeks ago revealed that although the multiple myeloma had been dealt a tremendous whallop, the disease still exists in my system. I still have bone cancer. In fact, I still have two cancers: Bone and prostate (so far minute, being dealt with by shots of Luperon).
Not so long ago, the implication of such news would have resulted in the anticipation of painful and ineffective treatment and an inevitable and grusome death.
That, thankfully, is no longer the inevitable truth in all cases of cancer today. It might be, however, for those who those who did not get or perhaps ignored early warnings and did not get early diagnosis and treatment. And some cancers are just plain awful from start to finish and are agonizing for patient and family. Truly sad. My heart and prayers go out to them.
For me, early detection, the slow advance of the disease, and the development of newer and less traumatic drugs have given me a brighter outlook, even if the advance of the disease is inevitable (according to the doctor). I thank you Lord Jesus for that mercy!
The test results are clear: "Dick, you still have active cancer cells in your body."
The implications of the test results and of the reality of mortal flesh are also clear: "Dick, you aren't going to get out of this alive! You are, in fact, dying."
That awareness, however, is more truly a blessed reminder, than a devastation. I am "winding down." "The sand is passing through the pinch in the glass." And thus it has been since my birth. That said, I don't see me adopting the morose mindset of the 17th Century meta-physical poets who held that life was from birth a steady march toward the obscurity of inevitable death.
Knowing and accepting that this life always ends in death, I would rather use these test results as a wake up call to be more aware of life. In my next post, I will refer to the metaphysical poet John Donne who penned the famous words, "Therefore, never send to find for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee," and speak of future plans.
Thanks for you many prayers and support.
Faithfully,
Dick
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Blog #29 Oct 19, 2010 Processing the Report
Dear Family & Friends:
(1) The Test results
It's been a while since I last made contact; I went to the doctor's last week and got the results of all the tests that had been done a fortnight before. The doctor was very "up" as he related the findings, but frankly we were disappointed. We had prayed and hoped to hear that not even a tiny bit of multiple myeloma could now be detected. I was prepared to hear that I was one of those five per cent who are completely healed by the stem cell transplant process.
Well, that's not what we heard. The doctor said, "You never get rid of multiple myeloma." But we did learn that mine had been really whalloped by the transplant and that of the cells in the marrow, only .07% were abnormal. That's .0007! Itty-bitty! And that is very good! But....still there is some. I still have multiple myeloma, and it's likely to grow over time.
The rate of that growth is likely to be very slow as that seems to be characteristic of my particular disease, so I am going to begin a regimen revlamid (one pill a day/3 wks, then off a week) to keep the level knocked really low.
I will give monthly quanities of blood and urine samples to check on status. And we will continue that until the numbers change, up or down, and then we will do something different. When that will be, and what we will do is not known. We do know that the numbers could go down further. We also know that there are other medications available and that new ones are being developed all the time.
At one time, I was told that the stem cell process results in an average of a 5-8 year extension of life. I was also told that life expectancy following diagnosis was only five years, but that was over nine years ago! So, I am 'way ahead of the curve and going strong! Alleluia!
Repeating the trnasplant is not an option: (1) Medicare pays for only one in a lifetime. (two of the shots I was given for stem cell stimulus cost $80K each!!!) (2) My body could not take the "stress" of another transplant. (I wondered about that since I really never was aware of real stress during the first transplant. Oh well. It's not an option now, anyway)
So, there you have all the news fit to print. I took a while to process it and am still at it. This is deep stuff so I have decided to deal with this in three parts: (1) the test results. (2) the implications (3) the plans for the future.
I am on day #75 and charging toward day #100 and "liberation!" I have "cabin fever" like you can't believe, and am ready to get back to living. But with this latest news, I am thinking, and praying that my living will be more focused on mission and ministry in Jesus' name.
Thanks for your continued prayers. Please pray that the revlamid doesn't result in some sort of side-effect that makes me any more goofy that I already tend to be. In Jesus name, I am
Your brother in Christ,
Dick
(1) The Test results
It's been a while since I last made contact; I went to the doctor's last week and got the results of all the tests that had been done a fortnight before. The doctor was very "up" as he related the findings, but frankly we were disappointed. We had prayed and hoped to hear that not even a tiny bit of multiple myeloma could now be detected. I was prepared to hear that I was one of those five per cent who are completely healed by the stem cell transplant process.
Well, that's not what we heard. The doctor said, "You never get rid of multiple myeloma." But we did learn that mine had been really whalloped by the transplant and that of the cells in the marrow, only .07% were abnormal. That's .0007! Itty-bitty! And that is very good! But....still there is some. I still have multiple myeloma, and it's likely to grow over time.
The rate of that growth is likely to be very slow as that seems to be characteristic of my particular disease, so I am going to begin a regimen revlamid (one pill a day/3 wks, then off a week) to keep the level knocked really low.
I will give monthly quanities of blood and urine samples to check on status. And we will continue that until the numbers change, up or down, and then we will do something different. When that will be, and what we will do is not known. We do know that the numbers could go down further. We also know that there are other medications available and that new ones are being developed all the time.
At one time, I was told that the stem cell process results in an average of a 5-8 year extension of life. I was also told that life expectancy following diagnosis was only five years, but that was over nine years ago! So, I am 'way ahead of the curve and going strong! Alleluia!
Repeating the trnasplant is not an option: (1) Medicare pays for only one in a lifetime. (two of the shots I was given for stem cell stimulus cost $80K each!!!) (2) My body could not take the "stress" of another transplant. (I wondered about that since I really never was aware of real stress during the first transplant. Oh well. It's not an option now, anyway)
So, there you have all the news fit to print. I took a while to process it and am still at it. This is deep stuff so I have decided to deal with this in three parts: (1) the test results. (2) the implications (3) the plans for the future.
I am on day #75 and charging toward day #100 and "liberation!" I have "cabin fever" like you can't believe, and am ready to get back to living. But with this latest news, I am thinking, and praying that my living will be more focused on mission and ministry in Jesus' name.
Thanks for your continued prayers. Please pray that the revlamid doesn't result in some sort of side-effect that makes me any more goofy that I already tend to be. In Jesus name, I am
Your brother in Christ,
Dick
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Blog #28 10/07/10 Significant Dates
Dear Family and Friends:
Well, I'm still abiding, here on day #63. Come on Day #100! And yet as I say that, I realize I am wishing away my life, mildly restricted as it is. What a shame! Lord, I repent of that, and ask your forgiveness!
In my funk, I whizzed right past a significant date: Oct 4th, The Feast of St. Francis. Oh, what a day that was when I pastored a small church in rural Texas. We did a blessing of the animals in the school yard; all the school kids brought their annimals. And where most kids grow up and join FFA, everybody has at least one animal! calves, ponies, lambs, goats, chickens, ducks, snakes, fish, birds, cats and dogs of all sizes and descriptions, antfarms, gerbils, rats, etc. Fortunately, tho there some in the area, no one ever brought a skunk, rattler, bison, or ostrich. In my twelve years of spritzing the critters, I never got bit, and only once did a distressed kitty get away. (She stayed away from home about three days before coming back. I was absolved)
Those children who couldn't bring live animals were encouraged to bring a stuffed animal, so that nobody got excluded. With 130 students, we practically made a morning of it! Whooeee! What a day! From the lips of children came praise to God for the glory of His creation, as it did from St. Francis. Every day should be so significant.
But, there were days of grieving when someone lost a pet, or worse, a loved one. A hole had been made in the fabric of life, and for the moment, nothing brought them comfort. That was and is true for child and adult. We have all known that vacuum that only the grace of God can fill.
Recently, a number of our friends have lost their life's companion, and I grieve for and with them, especially on the anniversary of that passing. It's a significant date, and one I hope to remember with them so that I may lift them up in my prayers instead speeding through this minor "trial" of mine. "Lord, forgive me and make me an instrument of your peace..."
Enjoy this day...it is a day the Lord hath made. Rejoice and be glad in it!
Faithfully,
Dick
Well, I'm still abiding, here on day #63. Come on Day #100! And yet as I say that, I realize I am wishing away my life, mildly restricted as it is. What a shame! Lord, I repent of that, and ask your forgiveness!
In my funk, I whizzed right past a significant date: Oct 4th, The Feast of St. Francis. Oh, what a day that was when I pastored a small church in rural Texas. We did a blessing of the animals in the school yard; all the school kids brought their annimals. And where most kids grow up and join FFA, everybody has at least one animal! calves, ponies, lambs, goats, chickens, ducks, snakes, fish, birds, cats and dogs of all sizes and descriptions, antfarms, gerbils, rats, etc. Fortunately, tho there some in the area, no one ever brought a skunk, rattler, bison, or ostrich. In my twelve years of spritzing the critters, I never got bit, and only once did a distressed kitty get away. (She stayed away from home about three days before coming back. I was absolved)
Those children who couldn't bring live animals were encouraged to bring a stuffed animal, so that nobody got excluded. With 130 students, we practically made a morning of it! Whooeee! What a day! From the lips of children came praise to God for the glory of His creation, as it did from St. Francis. Every day should be so significant.
But, there were days of grieving when someone lost a pet, or worse, a loved one. A hole had been made in the fabric of life, and for the moment, nothing brought them comfort. That was and is true for child and adult. We have all known that vacuum that only the grace of God can fill.
Recently, a number of our friends have lost their life's companion, and I grieve for and with them, especially on the anniversary of that passing. It's a significant date, and one I hope to remember with them so that I may lift them up in my prayers instead speeding through this minor "trial" of mine. "Lord, forgive me and make me an instrument of your peace..."
Enjoy this day...it is a day the Lord hath made. Rejoice and be glad in it!
Faithfully,
Dick
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Blog #27 10/ 02/ 2010 Day # 58
Dear Friends & Family:
The real day of testing was last Thursday, 9/30. In anticipation of day #60, I surrendered lots of blood and another sample of bone marrow drilled from my hip (which drilling I will address momentarily). The word is that I will get a full report on my condition in a couple of weeks...day #70. And with the confirmation that things are looking good, I won't have to repeat that keester jab for another year! Alleluia!
Speaking of which, I would like to tell you about that bone marrow biopsy procedure. It hurts like fury! Some procedures, by their very nature do. But, the other day, as we were awaiting that procedure, we could feel an unusual tension about the clinic that had everybody sort of tiptoeing about. Something had happened (unknown to us) and there was a palpable angst in the air. So, when the PA and the nurse came into the room to do the biopsy, I asked if we could begin with a prayer. This sweet young PA said enthusiastically, "We could sure use it!"
We always pray before medical procedures but sometimes don't include the practicioner. But we should! Dr. Bill Reed, president of the Christian Medical Society, urged people to always pray with and for their doctor before they undergo any surgical procedure. For one, it relieves the doctor and the patient of the presumption that the doctor is the healer. Healing is in the hands of Jesus.
Secondly, the prayer gives a peace and grace to all involved, and a sense that each has a special place in the healing process. And lastly, there is that holy resignation to the healing process that goes beyond the surgery: the element of time.
Albert Eistein once said, "God invented time so that everything doesn't happen all at once."
I am resigned to the time element of healing, but reluctantly. I'm still a long way from day #100 when most bans will be lifted...assuming that the indicators are all still positive. Nonetheless, I feel ready to tackle a whole lot which that sweet PA (younger than any of my daughters!) smiles and says, "Nope! Not yet!" In fact, she says I can't mow the grass for six months!! But, that's what we do in Florida!
The point of this babble is that each person can and should pray with their physician and bathe everything that has to do with medical procedures in prayer, acknowledging His sovereignty, His grace and peace, and His timetable. Amen!
Abiding in His love and peace, and thankful for your prayers and encouragement,
Dick
The real day of testing was last Thursday, 9/30. In anticipation of day #60, I surrendered lots of blood and another sample of bone marrow drilled from my hip (which drilling I will address momentarily). The word is that I will get a full report on my condition in a couple of weeks...day #70. And with the confirmation that things are looking good, I won't have to repeat that keester jab for another year! Alleluia!
Speaking of which, I would like to tell you about that bone marrow biopsy procedure. It hurts like fury! Some procedures, by their very nature do. But, the other day, as we were awaiting that procedure, we could feel an unusual tension about the clinic that had everybody sort of tiptoeing about. Something had happened (unknown to us) and there was a palpable angst in the air. So, when the PA and the nurse came into the room to do the biopsy, I asked if we could begin with a prayer. This sweet young PA said enthusiastically, "We could sure use it!"
We always pray before medical procedures but sometimes don't include the practicioner. But we should! Dr. Bill Reed, president of the Christian Medical Society, urged people to always pray with and for their doctor before they undergo any surgical procedure. For one, it relieves the doctor and the patient of the presumption that the doctor is the healer. Healing is in the hands of Jesus.
Secondly, the prayer gives a peace and grace to all involved, and a sense that each has a special place in the healing process. And lastly, there is that holy resignation to the healing process that goes beyond the surgery: the element of time.
Albert Eistein once said, "God invented time so that everything doesn't happen all at once."
I am resigned to the time element of healing, but reluctantly. I'm still a long way from day #100 when most bans will be lifted...assuming that the indicators are all still positive. Nonetheless, I feel ready to tackle a whole lot which that sweet PA (younger than any of my daughters!) smiles and says, "Nope! Not yet!" In fact, she says I can't mow the grass for six months!! But, that's what we do in Florida!
The point of this babble is that each person can and should pray with their physician and bathe everything that has to do with medical procedures in prayer, acknowledging His sovereignty, His grace and peace, and His timetable. Amen!
Abiding in His love and peace, and thankful for your prayers and encouragement,
Dick
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