For some reason, I am feeling a little lost in space this week. My MRI showed significant shrinkage in the brain tumors. While that might be good news, there’s still the need to keep the cancer cells from popping up elsewhere. That will require more treatment.
The doctor at Mayo told my daughter that cancer wasn’t my fault. Somewhere, somehow, my DNA created a mutant gene. The genetic test on my blood and biopsy showed that the genetic mutation was called KRAS G12C. When I think back to what that biopsy looked like on that slide I can only imagine how this all works. The slide had a blob of clear fluid with a slight blush from blood. It looked so pure, not evil at all. How can something so invisible to the eye create such havoc in my body?
It was good news that we identified this mutant gene because it could be targeted with therapy meant to stop this specific cell from duplicating and spreading. I can only say at this point, I am struggling with the drug in the form of a pill. It’s not agreeing with me, and I am uncertain what will happen next. I fear my life will never be the same again.
So, I wonder why I started telling this story. (In particular, I am questioning posting the photo of my head in a box and those sunken eyes.) Maybe it’s because my cancer was only the beginning of bad news in 2023. My experiences range from being normal and doing farmers markets to “How could this happen?”
I had fully expected to tell the rest of 2023’s story before this year began, and like my brother and I said every time we talked, “How can 2024 be worse than 2023.”
Ha.
For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. Jeremiah 29:11
Somehow I imagine God is up there laughing at my plans because His and mine aren’t matching up. My future is uncertain, and my heart lacks hope.
I know I am not alone.
There were days when St. Jude’s hospital commercials aired and I wondered how those children could endure whatever it was that involved their treatment. Now I know. I also know there are so many people living with cancer. So many people enduring.
I have these Deja vu moments. Some days, I open my eyes and feel so normal. Like nothing has happened to my health. The health I valued and tried to protect by eating farm-fresh unprocessed foods, exercising, and not drinking or smoking. I thank God for His life-giving breath. His beautiful world should take your breath away, not lung cancer.
My plans included living into my 80s like my aunts and uncles, my parents, and their parents. Believe it or not, I have aunts and uncles in their 90s living in their own homes.
I worked and saved and finally had a wonderful life. Today, I feel like I have to cram a lot of living into an unknown future.
Since I have never been the kind of person to bottle things inside, I released my feelings to the universe to free my burden. I’m sorry to say, but it’s not working this week.
PS: I am so grateful for all your kind words, prayers, and positive thoughts.
INDYchildrendotme 
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