A Detour on the Journey

On Thursday, March 23, we got the call we suspected had been coming after three weeks of mammograms and then more mammograms. Yes, the biopsy showed cancer--a particularily fast-growing, nasty kind.

According the cancer website, what we're experiencing is the hurricane response. Basically, we figure we don't have time for this. We've read way too much information on the web. It's helpful, sure, but a little troubling to find out how difficult this type of cancer is to treat and the high rate for re-occurrence within five years.

This is our blog of our experience--we're TCU alumns whose mascot is the horned frog--thus two frogs. I say "we" because while, technically, it's in my body, it feels like "we" have cancer. So Steve will be posting to the blog also--actually I'm counting on him to keep you more updated than me.

This Lent, our congregation is on a roadtrip to the heart of God. Right now, this feels like a very rude detour--one that is taking us off course where the scenery is not near as nice. But the quotation I included in my Sunday bulletin this week may hold some truth:
“What appears to be a detour may be the most important leg of the journey.
We may think we have veered off course, only to find that the road ahead
offers a vista we would have missed had we followed our own directions.”
–Judy Cannato from “Paradox Road” in Weavings

It's too early to tell whether this detour will be a dead-end, or another surprising route on the journey.

The purpose of the blog is to keep our friends and family all over the country and right here in East Longmeadow updated so that our day-to-day interactions with folks don't have to revolve around how I'm doing. I am ever so grateful to our friends Frank and Sarah who have showed us the way in this regard. Frank (otherwise known as Vinny) has made it through Testicular Cancer this last year and blogged his way through it. By doing so, they not only kept us up to date, they made us feel part of their journey, let us in on their pain and joy, let us help whenever possible (we voted on what color Sarah should die her hair in solidarity and what crazy hats look best during chemotheraphy), but they gave us hope that a cancer detour can led us back to the main road. Thanks Frank and Sarah!

As a pastor, I'm used to focusing on the concerns and ailments of others and already this inward focus and concern for MY health makes me uncomfortable. Check back here if you want to know how things are going. In other realms, I will continue to be a pastor and friend.

The official diagonsis (those with a weak stomach should stop reading now):
ductal carcinoma, high grade, with necrosis (meaning it's growing so fast that the body can't keep up the blood supply to nourish it so part of the cancer cells die off) and focal calcifications. It's called a "microinvasion," meaning it's moved beyond the duct but it's small (less than 1mm).

We have a meeting with the surgeon at the Breast Care Center on Tuesday. After that consultation we should have more information but we won't really know more until after the surgery and they examine a "larger excisional surgical specimen."

We welcome your prayers and presence as traveling companions.