The inspiration for my blog theme “When Trials Come” came from a beautiful, modern hymn with the same name by Keith & Kristyn Getty. The lyrics are stunning. Please bless yourself by listening to it – and other tunes – in my “Trial Tunes” playlist below or click HERE to read the lyrics.

[update: the battle begins]

The cancer battle began yesterday with radiation treatment in London.  Mark will continue with 5 weeks of treatments, 5 days per week.  I was able to drive him yesterday and today, and his mother and volunteers from our church will continue to transport him when I can’t (I’m teaching part-time).  While he may feel well enough to drive himself, distraction is especially important for him.

Our trips were uneventful, except for the excitement of our little women who were eager to explore “Daddy’s hospital” (they even let Kayla push a button to move the radiation machine today!).  Mark was in and out in 25 min (too bad the drive is triple that – each way!).  He’s feeling fine so far, but we understand that if he will get sick, it likely won’t happen until two weeks into treatments.  We will continue to wait and see. 

The doctors have not been clear about the purpose of radiation (even after being explicitly asked). Surgery is supposed to be the primary treatment plan.  The radiologist explained that they do not expect the tumour to shrink, but it might increase the effectiveness of surgery.  This doesn’t really make sense to us, as the surgeon explained that the entire gluteous maximus will likely be removed.  I’m not sure how radiation can improve those margins!  We pray earnestly that radiation would shrink the tumour so that surgery would be less invasive (however, losing a butt muscle is apparently not too life-altering – maybe some changes in hip extension only...). 

Mark saw an optometrist this week.  We wanted to investigate whether or not he has something called “lisch nodules” – small bumps on the iris that are a clinical feature of NF1.  He had brown specks in his mostly blue iris, which matched the google images of lisch nodules.  The doctor said Mark has remarkable vision, but he does in fact have lisch nodules.  They should not affect eyesight (and obviously are currently not), but we will keep an eye on them (no pun intended).  The optometrist said he has only seen them in about 10 cases, and all have been associated with NF.  This is very strong evidence of NF.  (This is what you do when the health system is sluggish – collect your own evidence!)

We finally have an appointment to see a genetic counselor: Thursday, Sept.18.  We want desperately to connect with an NF doctor to discuss the implications of an underlying NF condition when dealing with cancer.  We want to make sure we are aggressive enough with treatments, as we are dealing with a genetic disposition for the overgrowth of cells.

We are relieved to be in the treatment stage of this journey.  We feel that strength that many Christians have expressed.  God is keeping me strong.  The cynic in me often wondered if that was just a cute Christian mantra that was repeated enough to convince oneself calm.  Now I understand that strength.  There’s no reason to feel this peaceful amidst the chaos of this storm; it's that peace that transcends understanding.  That’s God’s doing.  That’s prayer in practice.  We thank every one of you saints for those murmurs lifted heavenward.  They are carrying us.


XOXO