Chemo News and Miracles

It's now 7:20 pm in Charlotte, Monday evening. (The date that shows by my entries here is Pacific time.)

I know my oncologist wishes all his patients had a prayer team like I have. I met with him prior to the chemo therapy, and he felt it was important at this stage to check for side effects from the chemo. He'd ask about one, and I'd say no. He'd mention another, and I'd say no. On and on it went. No, no, no, no. Thank You Lord! (There's no point to mention the nasties here, since they're not happening.) He's optimistic by nature, but it was obvious that even he was surprised by how well I'm doing. Sounds like it's time to celebrate. We should have a party. At least I want to say again how much I appreciate your help along the way!

He also mentioned that after chemo #6, April 24, we'll need to decide whether to continue with 8 sessions (or 8 months, I forget which) of maintenance chemo as a means of stalling off a relapse. Could we begin now to pray for wisdom in that decision?

As for my wonderful left-elbow vein, it appears to be shot, probably forever, leaving me with few other options. The highly competent nurse blew out the small one in my right wrist today, and finally found a deep one off the inside of my right elbow. We need at least 3 more treatments, and both the doctor and I would prefer to avoid surgery to implant a med-port, so could we pray that this vein will remain strong or others will be found.

I just awakened from a long, deep nap in my recliner. Oh, I forgot to say that the doctor listened to my lungs and said he hears good deep breathing all the way to the bottoms. (Only 3 weeks ago, he'd said the right lung cavity was half full of fluid, and the left a third.) How could I fail to include this miracle in the other good news above? This is really an answer to prayer. I'm going to try sleeping on only a normal pillow tonight.

Gratefully,
Carol