----- Original Message -----
From: Fink Holloway
Sent: Monday, March 31, 2008 10:33 PM
For the first seven months of this cancer journey my key phrase was "Pure Joy". Now that I have started radiation I have an additional slogan: "Radiate Joy".
I started radiation therapy Thursday, March 27. The first session lasted more than 30 minutes, but the next treatment only took about 10 minutes. That is what is expected for the future. Even with a 10 minute routine, most of the time is spent getting set-up. I am "zapped" in five different places each day, so there are five different times the equipment is adjusted for me. When it is in just right place the radiation therapists leave the room so they don't get zapped too. There are cameras so they can see me and they could hear me if I called to them. I've never felt the need to call for them. I try to relax and lay completely still, which is a bit of a challenge since it is not very comfortable.
During the radiation treatment I can hear the machine making noises, but I don’t actually feel anything. I have never “felt” an X-Ray either. So in some ways radiation is similar an X-Ray. With both it takes more time to get you into the right position than for the procedure. One big difference is in the amount of time the patient is exposed. Before the mastectomy I had my lungs X-Rayed and that only took a second or two at the most. During each phase of radiation I can count to 15 or to 25 while the machine is doing its thing. And I am supposed to have treatments 5 days a week for 6 weeks. All that exposure is likely to cause side effects that I will feel. Fatigue is the most common. Several ladies I've talked to who have had radiation have told me that 4-5 weeks into the treatment their skin turned red, or started to blister.
I've only had two treatments, so right now I am not feeling tired; my skin is not red and I am grateful for that. I have started working 30 hours a week now, and it feels very good to be back.
I was scheduled to have radiation today (and every week-day) but when I arrived, I was told the computer that regulates the dose for each person was down. They called tonight and told me NOT to come in at my regular time in the morning because they are still having problems with the computer.
So I don't know when my next treatment will be. It could be as early as tomorrow afternoon. They said they would call.
One thing I am sure about: God knows what each day holds for me, and he knows how to hold me, and guide me through each one.
Some people look at verses like Romans 8:28 "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God; to them who are the called according to his purpose" and mistakenly think: "All things are supposed to work together to make me feel good right now." Wrong! Testing and trials are like radiation and chemo. In reality, the goal of radiation or chemo is not to make a person feel good. Initially, those treatments can cause a person to feel quite miserable. But doctors who care have prescribed them because they can see how it works together for my good.
During the times when God lets you go through circumstances that don't feel good, remember: He is working for your good.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
Explanation of Blog Title
----- Original Message -----
From: Fink Holloway
Sent: Monday, March 24, 2008
Some of you who have recently started getting my e-mail updates may not know why I call this a “Pure Joy Update”. On the day I had my mammogram I had had 5 cards in my pocket with verses I was trying to memorize from James chapter 1.
James 1:2 states: “Consider it pure joy when ever you face trials of many kinds because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.”
I have focused on that verse and tried to cultivate joy along the way. During the times when I feel like crying, I do cry—but even that brings me joy. It is comforting to know that I don’t have to pretend to have joy. I am glad to know that Jesus was also “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3). Since “Jesus wept” (John 11:35) I feel the freedom to weep too and pour out my heart to God when my emotions are high. And he has brought comfort and hope to me in so many ways.
Yesterday, when our Sunday school class was about to begin with the opening prayer, I leaned towards a young woman who probably did not know where I am with my treatment at this time. I reached over, took her hand and whispered, “I expect to start radiation this week.” She began to pray almost silently. The only voice I could hear clearly was that of our teacher leading the opening prayer. But when a tear dropped off her face and hit my hand, I was reminded that many people that I don’t see every day really do care. The concern that was evident blessed me in a big way.
I am continuing to get stronger. I was able to work half time last week. And my hair is getting longer. My hair style resembles a crew cut, but the texture of my hair is still quite soft (and it is quite thin too). I remember the hair on my boys’ heads felt stubby when they had a hair cut that short.
I had two doctors appointments last week:
On Monday ,March 17, I saw Dr. Atwood, my plastic surgeon and he added 50 cc of fluid to my tissue expander. My skin was already quite tight and I wondered if I really needed to add more fluid, but he said the tissues will shrink in response to the radiation, so he wanted to add some fluid now. We will not be able to move forward with reconstruction any more until several weeks after radiation is complete.
Wednesday I went to NARTI to meet with Dr. Ross--the radiation oncologist and to have my CT-Scan and be marked. I had assumed the purpose of the marks was to indicate where to aim the beams of radiation, but that is not the case. The marks are to make sure I lay in exactly the same position for every treatment. They also made a mold of my body before the scan and the mold was also marked. I had heard about the mold from a friend who has also gone through radiation, but I was quite surprised at how it was made and how quickly it was made.
I was asked to lie on a bag that contained small Styrofoam beads. It was big enough to go from my head to my waist, not my entire body. After I laid on it, the nurse asked me to lift my arms above my head--that was a challenge since my right arm still says "Ouch" when I lift it above my head. Then they took some type of vacuum and pulled all the air out of the bag and sealed it tight. When I got up, it kept the form of my body.
The incision in my arm pit to remove lymph nodes was 3-4 inches long, and a couple inches deep--long enough and deep enough to affect the muscles of my right arm and hit a bunch of nerves and too. Some people experience numbness. Some of my tissues do feel numb, but I also have a burning sensation from those nerves that affect the area under my arm from my shoulder to my elbow and down my right side; even some of my back gets the burning sensation when it is touched.
I have several exercises that are designed to restore range of motion to my right arm. I like to sing the song “May the glory of our Lord rise among us” while I practice raising my hands. Right now my right arm seems to have a built in volume control lever: The higher I lift my arm--the louder those nerves speak. In some ways would seem logical avoid the pain and just keep my arm down—but if I want to eventually have full use of my right arm I need to do the exercises. And my right hand is going to be positioned behind my head for radiation, which means I will have to raise that arm and hold it there several minutes in the near future. So I am trying to stretch those muscles every day. I can raise my arm pretty high and it is not nearly as painful as it used to be, but it sure does not feel normal yet. Pray that those nerves will heal.
Thanks to all of you for your prayers and support!
Love,
Fink
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Lessons for a Teacher
From: Fink Holloway
Sent: Thursday, March 06, 2008 12:59 PM
Subject: Pure Joy Journey March 6, 2008
Lessons for a Teacher
I taught homeschool for 17 years, and at that time the three R’s were: Reading, Writing, and ‘Rithmetic. I hoped that once I got past chemo and surgery, my three R’s would be:
Rest, Recovery, and Reconstruction.
I did REST a lot the first two weeks after surgery. (The pain medication had a lot to do with my drowsiness.) My sister and other friends and relatives provided all the meals, did the housework and laundry. So I slept and ate, and slept and ate, and enjoyed my family and friends that came to visit. I especially enjoyed our grandchildren and Brayden. I haven’t tried to hold Brooklynn since I had surgery. As a two year old, she is big enough that her head could bump my chest while sitting in my lap, and I would hate to think what an elbow would feel like if she decided to jump down! I enjoyed watching her eat, play and drive our toy tractor. I did hold Josiah, the 8 month old, on the left side of my lap and I read a book him a few times before they went back to South Carolina. The love of family and friends is wonderful medicine!
One burst of joy came from Josiah. On a Sunday when all our family was together Janelle said, “Josiah has a late Valentine for all of you.” Then she turned Josiah around so we could read his shirt. It said, “I’m a Big Brother.” It took a moment for the message to sink it, but soon enough we learned that another baby is scheduled to join our family in September! Janelle and Joseph will have their hands full with two children under two, but they are delighted and we are too.
My RECOVERY has been taken longer than I expected. I was told that many women who have a mastectomy are able to return to work in three to six weeks. Being an optimist, I was hoping to get back to work at least part time in three weeks. But three weeks have come and gone and I still have one drain in place. And I have a cold! On Monday and on Tuesday of this week I had 32 cc of fluid. It has to measure less than 25 cc in a 24 hour period before the drain can be removed. Yesterday was better so maybe the last drain will get to come out this Friday. That would sure be nice. When I got the cold, the coughing not only increased my pain—it increased the fluid going to the drains.
But I am making progress. Dr. Atwood, my plastic surgeon removed one drain last Friday, Feb 29, and I saw also Dr. Beck, my oncologist. He recommended that I take Femara for five years. Femara is a rather expensive medication that inhibits estrogen (and causes hot flashes). It costs me a dollar for each tiny pill—which is smaller than saccharin--and the insurance company pays even more than I do!
RECONSTRUCTION has been moved to the back burner for now, and RADIATION is the ‘R’ that takes priority. Since I had 3 more lymph nodes with cancer, and my tumors spanned 4.9 cm before chemo, Dr. Cross scheduled me to go to NARTI to see a radiation oncologist. I met Dr. Ross yesterday, and I will be having 30 treatments of radiation.—5 a week for 6 weeks. I probably would have had the CT scan and gotten marked for radiation yesterday, (they actually mark the spot(s) with a Magic marker so a radiation therapist can aim at the right places), but since one drain and the stitches have not yet been removed, Dr. Ross scheduled that step for March 19. My radiation treatments should start March 24. Radiation should only take 20-30 minutes a day, including the time to wait and dress.
There are times when I have felt discouraged by the delays, the pain, and the need for additional treatments. Another person I know died from cancer recently: My brother-in-law’s Dad died February 29. Any time someone I love dies, I grieve for them. My heart is tender and I often feel grief for people I don’t know who were mentioned in the news. But since I am in the middle of my own battle with cancer, reports of deaths caused by cancer stir up the grief in a different way, and it is not comfortable.
Even so I have reasons to REJOICE this week: I have more energy and less pain. I have started driving the car again, so I am not so isolated. I am not coughing as much, and my hair is growing back! God knows the all about the challenges I will face with radiation, and I know He will be with me through that leg of the journey.
But the most important reason I REJOICE is because God is in control. He knows the number of my days. Hebrews 9:27 says: “It is appointed unto man once to die.” If I were the one in charge of scheduling my appointment with death, it would make sense for me to ponder the pros and cons of whether it will be sooner or later. But that is not my responsibility! The Scripture plainly tells me not to worry about tomorrow. None of us know whether we are going to live 50 more years or 5 more hours.
An athletic young man dropped dead after running a marathon in Little Rock last week. He was young. He seemed to be in excellent health. Paramedics were right there and immediately began giving him aid. But he could not be revived.
None of us know how many days we have left to serve the Lord, so it doesn’t hurt to stop and think: If this was my last day, would its memory be sweet? Have my words been kind? Or did they sound impatient? Did I make an effort to show the people that I do love them? Am I spending my time today in a way that honors the Lord?
Those questions remind me of questions I had when my father was approaching death. I had a conversation with God about my questions. Part of it became a song, and part is a conversation. I’ll share the lyrics here and later I’ll try to write music.
Sent: Thursday, March 06, 2008 12:59 PM
Subject: Pure Joy Journey March 6, 2008
Lessons for a Teacher
I taught homeschool for 17 years, and at that time the three R’s were: Reading, Writing, and ‘Rithmetic. I hoped that once I got past chemo and surgery, my three R’s would be:
Rest, Recovery, and Reconstruction.
I did REST a lot the first two weeks after surgery. (The pain medication had a lot to do with my drowsiness.) My sister and other friends and relatives provided all the meals, did the housework and laundry. So I slept and ate, and slept and ate, and enjoyed my family and friends that came to visit. I especially enjoyed our grandchildren and Brayden. I haven’t tried to hold Brooklynn since I had surgery. As a two year old, she is big enough that her head could bump my chest while sitting in my lap, and I would hate to think what an elbow would feel like if she decided to jump down! I enjoyed watching her eat, play and drive our toy tractor. I did hold Josiah, the 8 month old, on the left side of my lap and I read a book him a few times before they went back to South Carolina. The love of family and friends is wonderful medicine!
One burst of joy came from Josiah. On a Sunday when all our family was together Janelle said, “Josiah has a late Valentine for all of you.” Then she turned Josiah around so we could read his shirt. It said, “I’m a Big Brother.” It took a moment for the message to sink it, but soon enough we learned that another baby is scheduled to join our family in September! Janelle and Joseph will have their hands full with two children under two, but they are delighted and we are too.
My RECOVERY has been taken longer than I expected. I was told that many women who have a mastectomy are able to return to work in three to six weeks. Being an optimist, I was hoping to get back to work at least part time in three weeks. But three weeks have come and gone and I still have one drain in place. And I have a cold! On Monday and on Tuesday of this week I had 32 cc of fluid. It has to measure less than 25 cc in a 24 hour period before the drain can be removed. Yesterday was better so maybe the last drain will get to come out this Friday. That would sure be nice. When I got the cold, the coughing not only increased my pain—it increased the fluid going to the drains.
But I am making progress. Dr. Atwood, my plastic surgeon removed one drain last Friday, Feb 29, and I saw also Dr. Beck, my oncologist. He recommended that I take Femara for five years. Femara is a rather expensive medication that inhibits estrogen (and causes hot flashes). It costs me a dollar for each tiny pill—which is smaller than saccharin--and the insurance company pays even more than I do!
RECONSTRUCTION has been moved to the back burner for now, and RADIATION is the ‘R’ that takes priority. Since I had 3 more lymph nodes with cancer, and my tumors spanned 4.9 cm before chemo, Dr. Cross scheduled me to go to NARTI to see a radiation oncologist. I met Dr. Ross yesterday, and I will be having 30 treatments of radiation.—5 a week for 6 weeks. I probably would have had the CT scan and gotten marked for radiation yesterday, (they actually mark the spot(s) with a Magic marker so a radiation therapist can aim at the right places), but since one drain and the stitches have not yet been removed, Dr. Ross scheduled that step for March 19. My radiation treatments should start March 24. Radiation should only take 20-30 minutes a day, including the time to wait and dress.
There are times when I have felt discouraged by the delays, the pain, and the need for additional treatments. Another person I know died from cancer recently: My brother-in-law’s Dad died February 29. Any time someone I love dies, I grieve for them. My heart is tender and I often feel grief for people I don’t know who were mentioned in the news. But since I am in the middle of my own battle with cancer, reports of deaths caused by cancer stir up the grief in a different way, and it is not comfortable.
Even so I have reasons to REJOICE this week: I have more energy and less pain. I have started driving the car again, so I am not so isolated. I am not coughing as much, and my hair is growing back! God knows the all about the challenges I will face with radiation, and I know He will be with me through that leg of the journey.
But the most important reason I REJOICE is because God is in control. He knows the number of my days. Hebrews 9:27 says: “It is appointed unto man once to die.” If I were the one in charge of scheduling my appointment with death, it would make sense for me to ponder the pros and cons of whether it will be sooner or later. But that is not my responsibility! The Scripture plainly tells me not to worry about tomorrow. None of us know whether we are going to live 50 more years or 5 more hours.
An athletic young man dropped dead after running a marathon in Little Rock last week. He was young. He seemed to be in excellent health. Paramedics were right there and immediately began giving him aid. But he could not be revived.
None of us know how many days we have left to serve the Lord, so it doesn’t hurt to stop and think: If this was my last day, would its memory be sweet? Have my words been kind? Or did they sound impatient? Did I make an effort to show the people that I do love them? Am I spending my time today in a way that honors the Lord?
Those questions remind me of questions I had when my father was approaching death. I had a conversation with God about my questions. Part of it became a song, and part is a conversation. I’ll share the lyrics here and later I’ll try to write music.
“Questions”
From the summer of 2000
By: Fink Holloway
(The song begins at a slow tempo in a minor key
From the summer of 2000
By: Fink Holloway
(The song begins at a slow tempo in a minor key
with a very monotonous melody.)
Questions! Questions!
So many questions rushing through my mind.
Questions! Questions!
Difficult questions come at the difficult times:
Why did you let this happen God?
When will this problem ever end?
Will my loved one be all right?
Will he make it through the night?
What is the future going to bring?
Repeat, Repeat, Repeat……….
Questions! Questions!
So many questions rushing through my mind.
Questions! Questions!
Difficult questions come at the difficult times:
Why did you let this happen God?
When will this problem ever end?
Will my loved one be all right?
Will he make it through the night?
What is the future going to bring?
Repeat, Repeat, Repeat……….
I was awake a lot that night, and I probably ran through those questions a hundred times. There were many more questions that were not incorporated in the song linked to the line: “What is the future going to bring?” I also wondered: Are we going to be able to care for Daddy at home? Is he going to have to go to the hospital again? Will he have to go to a nursing home? What nursing home? How would we pay for it? How long is he going to linger? Why does he have to suffer? Will I be with him when he dies? I want to. When is he going die? Is my family going to be okay in Arkansas if I stay with Dad in Colorado for a long time? How long?.....
I had spent hours agonizing over these questions and had not found the answer to any of them when I heard God speak to me.
God: Fink! Fink, what are you doing?
Fink: I’m agonizing over these questions! Can’t you see? I have all these questions and I don’t know the answers. Would you help me? You know the answers to my questions. (I started the going through the list again when God interrupted me.)
God: Fink! Stop! You are on the wrong page.
Fink: Wrong page? What are you talking about?
God: Aren’t you a teacher?
Fink: Yes. You know I teach homeschool.
God: Would you expect a student to answer the questions on chapter 10 if you are studying chapter 1?
Fink: Of course not.
God: Neither do I and you are looking the wrong questions.
Fink: What do you mean: Wrong questions?
God: You’re not supposed to answer those questions tonight. You are on the wrong page.
Fink: Are you telling me I need to consider a different set of questions?
God: Yes!
Fink: Well, then what questions should I be asking?
In my mind I hear the music change from the minor key to major key and the melody God sings to me is simple and sweet:
God: How could you bring me glory? How could you bring me praise?
In my mind I interrupt his song and protest.
Fink: God! I don’t know how to bring you glory.
But God continued singing:
God: What could you do or say today to bring honor and glory my way?
Fink: Today? You want me to do something today that would bring you glory? I’m in the middle of a crisis! What could I possibly do that would honor you?
In this simple song God gave me a new list of questions to consider:
Verse 1
Who could you smile at?
Who could you touch?
Who could you share with?
Who could you hug?
Who could you touch?
Who could you share with?
Who could you hug?
As He sings I start thinking: Everybody is glad to see a smile. Lots of people long for a warm touch or hug. I could share a stick of gum, or a cookie. I began to brain storm while God continued the melody.
God:
How could you bring me glory?
How could you bring me praise?
What could you do or say today to bring honor and glory my way?
How could you bring me praise?
What could you do or say today to bring honor and glory my way?
Verse 2
Who could you listen to?
Who could you help?
Who could you pray for?
Who could you love?
Chorus:
How could you bring me glory?
How could you bring me praise?
What could you do or say today to bring honor and glory my way?
As I considered this new list I realized all of these questions had hundreds of right answers. All of a sudden, it felt like the test I was facing was easy. I realized that no matter what was going on with my circumstances, God would be honored that day if I would share my love and share His love in very simple ways. When I realized something as easy as giving a smile pleases the Lord, I started to sing too:
Fink:
I want to bring God glory.
I want to bring God praise.
What could I do or say today to bring honor and glory God’s way?
I want to bring God praise.
What could I do or say today to bring honor and glory God’s way?
Think about it: What simple thing could you do to bring God glory today?
Thanks again for your prayers, e-mails, cards and words of encouragement. They help!
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