Miracles and Wonders
One year and counting
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We've now passed the one year mark since Deb's scans came back clean, and she
continues to be cancer free (actually it's over fourteen months but I'm only just finding
time to write this update). It has been a wonderful year, but not completely without
difficulty.
Following her final Chemotherapy, her oncologist explained that we were entering the
"watchful waiting" period, which meant that he would see her every other month and
measure her CA-125 level to make sure that she wasn't having a recurrence. As long as
she felt well, her CA-125 stayed at the same level, and he couldn't feel any changes in
her neck or abdomen, then it would be safe to assume that she was still cancer free. If
the tests or exam showed changes then it might be cancer and Deb would need
additional scans and tests to be certain.
Her CA-125 was rock steady in April and June and life started returning to normal. Her
hair was growing back, her energy level was returning to normal, she was back at
work, and we even took a vacation (just like normal people). Then she had her CA-125
tested before her August appointment with the oncologist, and at 4:30 on a Monday
afternoon, the nurse called and left a cryptic message on the answering machine: "Your
test results came back and your CA-125 level is up, the doctor wants to schedule
another test next month. Call me."
When I heard the message, it hit me like a punch in the stomach. A rising CA-125 was
the sign that the cancer was back, and since the nurse didn't say the number in her
message it must be bad. Of course, by the time I got home from work the office was
closed so we couldn't call to get more information until morning. I erased the message
and resolved not to tell Debbie until the office opened at 8:30 the next morning. That
was wrong, but I just couldn't stand to see her suffer through another sleepless night.
Tuesday morning, Deb knew something was up. I hadn't been myself the previous
night and now I was late leaving for work, so I finally gave her the news about 8am.
We cried and prayed together for the 30 minutes until the office opened, but when we
called, the nurse that we needed to talk to wasn't in. So we had to call back at nine, and
she still wasn't in and no one else could even pull Deb's file and tell us the number. How
bad must this be if only one person could even talk to us? By the time we finally got
through to our nurse, I was ready to drive to the office and storm the records room.
When she came on the line, she said "your previous CA-125 value was 12 and the latest
one is 16" (anything under 35 is considered normal). "So this is no big deal, the doctor
just wants to check it again next month to be sure it doesn't go up again".
Instantly, we are flooded with relief. Sixteen is nothing. Sixteen is what regular people
have. Four months ago we would have been ecstatic with a sixteen. Then we got a little
angry. Why did they put us through this? Why not just give us that number in the phone
message? or wait two days until we would be in the office to see the doctor? The way
they handled this seemed needlessly cruel. But when we saw the nurse in person, she
apologized for scaring us and admitted that it never even occurred to her that we
wouldn't realize that it was just routine. I guess after you've been through this for a
while bad test results just become a normal part of life, but this was our first one so we
didn't handle it very well.
Once we recovered from the trauma, we started to feel very bad about the way that we
had responded. God had given Debbie a miraculous cure and yet at the first tiny sign of
trouble we had doubts. If this was a test then we had failed miserably. And we resolved
to do better.
The next month, her CA-125 level came back at 27. Another, even larger, increase and
possibly the beginning of a trend. This time the doctor scheduled a CT-scan for a week
later, and I hate to admit that we failed the test again. It was a rough week of waiting
and we were frightened and filled with doubts, but the scan came back clean. Once
again it seemed that we were worried for nothing. There was no explanation for the
rising CA-125 but our oncologist explained that the reading can be affected by lots of
things (for example, inflammation from a cold or even a bruise).
As we waited for another month to pass before the next test a couple of things
happened that helped us considerably. First, a friend from work who survived testicular
cancer several years ago told me that his tumor marker levels fluctuate all the time and
the doctor never finds any explanation. Second, we realized that in the Gospels, none of
the people who Jesus healed ever came back later needing to be healed again. So if we
really believe that God has healed Deb (and we do), then we need to quit worrying.
To make a long story short or at least not quite so long, Deb's CA-125 level has
continued to rise slowly but another CT-scan in January came back clean. So we've
had nine months of stress and worry over each new test result. Over the last two
months the value finally seems to have leveled off at 52, which is outside the normal
range but not high enough to panic over. So the doctor has put Deb back on a two
month follow-up schedule, and we are finally starting to relax again.
We still believe that God has cured Deb, but it took almost a year of trials for that to be
our first thought in the face of adversity instead an afterthought that followed initial
panic or doubt. It was a hard lesson to learn, but it was worth it - put your trust in God
first, last and always.
continues to be cancer free (actually it's over fourteen months but I'm only just finding
time to write this update). It has been a wonderful year, but not completely without
difficulty.
Following her final Chemotherapy, her oncologist explained that we were entering the
"watchful waiting" period, which meant that he would see her every other month and
measure her CA-125 level to make sure that she wasn't having a recurrence. As long as
she felt well, her CA-125 stayed at the same level, and he couldn't feel any changes in
her neck or abdomen, then it would be safe to assume that she was still cancer free. If
the tests or exam showed changes then it might be cancer and Deb would need
additional scans and tests to be certain.
Her CA-125 was rock steady in April and June and life started returning to normal. Her
hair was growing back, her energy level was returning to normal, she was back at
work, and we even took a vacation (just like normal people). Then she had her CA-125
tested before her August appointment with the oncologist, and at 4:30 on a Monday
afternoon, the nurse called and left a cryptic message on the answering machine: "Your
test results came back and your CA-125 level is up, the doctor wants to schedule
another test next month. Call me."
When I heard the message, it hit me like a punch in the stomach. A rising CA-125 was
the sign that the cancer was back, and since the nurse didn't say the number in her
message it must be bad. Of course, by the time I got home from work the office was
closed so we couldn't call to get more information until morning. I erased the message
and resolved not to tell Debbie until the office opened at 8:30 the next morning. That
was wrong, but I just couldn't stand to see her suffer through another sleepless night.
Tuesday morning, Deb knew something was up. I hadn't been myself the previous
night and now I was late leaving for work, so I finally gave her the news about 8am.
We cried and prayed together for the 30 minutes until the office opened, but when we
called, the nurse that we needed to talk to wasn't in. So we had to call back at nine, and
she still wasn't in and no one else could even pull Deb's file and tell us the number. How
bad must this be if only one person could even talk to us? By the time we finally got
through to our nurse, I was ready to drive to the office and storm the records room.
When she came on the line, she said "your previous CA-125 value was 12 and the latest
one is 16" (anything under 35 is considered normal). "So this is no big deal, the doctor
just wants to check it again next month to be sure it doesn't go up again".
Instantly, we are flooded with relief. Sixteen is nothing. Sixteen is what regular people
have. Four months ago we would have been ecstatic with a sixteen. Then we got a little
angry. Why did they put us through this? Why not just give us that number in the phone
message? or wait two days until we would be in the office to see the doctor? The way
they handled this seemed needlessly cruel. But when we saw the nurse in person, she
apologized for scaring us and admitted that it never even occurred to her that we
wouldn't realize that it was just routine. I guess after you've been through this for a
while bad test results just become a normal part of life, but this was our first one so we
didn't handle it very well.
Once we recovered from the trauma, we started to feel very bad about the way that we
had responded. God had given Debbie a miraculous cure and yet at the first tiny sign of
trouble we had doubts. If this was a test then we had failed miserably. And we resolved
to do better.
The next month, her CA-125 level came back at 27. Another, even larger, increase and
possibly the beginning of a trend. This time the doctor scheduled a CT-scan for a week
later, and I hate to admit that we failed the test again. It was a rough week of waiting
and we were frightened and filled with doubts, but the scan came back clean. Once
again it seemed that we were worried for nothing. There was no explanation for the
rising CA-125 but our oncologist explained that the reading can be affected by lots of
things (for example, inflammation from a cold or even a bruise).
As we waited for another month to pass before the next test a couple of things
happened that helped us considerably. First, a friend from work who survived testicular
cancer several years ago told me that his tumor marker levels fluctuate all the time and
the doctor never finds any explanation. Second, we realized that in the Gospels, none of
the people who Jesus healed ever came back later needing to be healed again. So if we
really believe that God has healed Deb (and we do), then we need to quit worrying.
To make a long story short or at least not quite so long, Deb's CA-125 level has
continued to rise slowly but another CT-scan in January came back clean. So we've
had nine months of stress and worry over each new test result. Over the last two
months the value finally seems to have leveled off at 52, which is outside the normal
range but not high enough to panic over. So the doctor has put Deb back on a two
month follow-up schedule, and we are finally starting to relax again.
We still believe that God has cured Deb, but it took almost a year of trials for that to be
our first thought in the face of adversity instead an afterthought that followed initial
panic or doubt. It was a hard lesson to learn, but it was worth it - put your trust in God
first, last and always.