Roadblocks

The past week was an incredibly stressful week to say the least. When the governor of Texas last Sunday announced the travel restrictions for anyone traveling from anywhere in Louisiana I knew that could be a problem and cause a delay of my chemo scheduled for April 3. The governor’s executive order stated anyone traveling into the state from Louisiana had to self-quarantine for 14 days. By Monday afternoon, it appeared that travel from Louisiana to Texas for medical treatment, unrelated to COVID-19, was permissible and my fear began to subside. I would need to fill out a travel form (similar to the VISA applications we do each time we go to Kenya) and carry a copy of my schedule of appointments and my reservation for the hotel, but I would be allowed to go across the state line. Whew, we could breathe again. Then came Tuesday’s announcement by MDA that beginning April 1, patients outside of Texas were required to quarantine for 14 days before receiving treatment. At first, my doctors had no answers as to what exactly that meant. Did the quarantine have to be done in Texas? I hadn’t left my home or had visitors since arriving home from my last chemo on March 20. Did that count as quarantine? Did Madison’s leaving to get a Walmart pick-up order and Gary going to the post office break quarantine? Too many questions and too few answers. 

I had been in frequent contact with the social worker at my oncologist’s office throughout the day Tuesday and late that afternoon she said the hospital was meeting with the governor’s office that evening and I should have some answers the next morning. I was told as a state agency, MDA had to follow the guidelines in the executive order and anyone outside of the state of Texas may have to be treated in their home state. Madison sent out prayer requests and the prayer warriors went to work. At that point all I could pray was, “God, fix it. I don’t know what You are going to do, what needs to be done, or how to fix it. I’ve run out of options. I’ve done everything I can possibly do. God, please fix it.” I was relying on Romans 8:26-27 “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.”

Wednesday morning the social worker called me. She had spoken to my doctor and as far as he was concerned, I was scheduled for chemo on Friday. However, that could be overridden by the hospital, since they were still working to put in place the guidelines for who would receive treatment at MDA and who would be rescheduled closer to home. The sticking point seemed to be that by traveling to receive my treatment, I was breaking quarantine. Her advice was to plan to come Thursday, but pack to stay in case they determined I needed to be quarantined in Texas before treatment. So I spent Wednesday trying to pack what Gary and I might need for the foreseeable future, looking at options for staying long-term in Houston, and making arrangements to keep things going at home. My prayer continued to be, “God fix it.”

God heard our prayers and responded in a mighty way! Wednesday at 4:04 pm I received an email from the supervisor of my clinical trial with the most glorious news—MDA would continue to treat my cancer during this pandemic and I would be allowed to quarantine at home! The email ended with, “call if you have any questions.” Of course, I called immediately with a hundred questions. The clinical supervisor explained that as a participant in the Artemis clinical trial everything that is done to treat my cancer and monitor my tumors’ response can only be administered and monitored at MDA under the strict clinical trial protocols. Thank you, God, for a diagnosis of triple negative breast cancer!

When I first learned I had triple negative breast cancer I wasn’t so grateful. I knew it was the “scary” breast cancer. I knew women—two—who had survived this type of cancer and drew on their strength. I knew MDA was on the cutting edge of triple negative breast cancer research so that gave me some comfort. Once I knew it had not yet spread to my lymph nodes I felt more positive. But grateful? Not yet. 

In The Hiding Place, Corrie Ten Boom recounts a story about the barracks she and Betsie were assigned to in Ravensbruck. It was overcrowded, the straw reeked, and there were fleas! They pulled out the small Bible they had smuggled into the camp and read, “Comfort the frightened, help the weak, be patient with everyone. See that none of you repays evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to all. Rejoice always, pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:14-18. They began to give thanks for their circumstances…until Betsie said thank you God for the fleas. That was too much for Corrie. She told her sister there was no way she could be thankful for the fleas. Not yet. Then one evening when Corrie arrived back in the barracks Betsie shared a discovery about the fleas. The reason the guards kept their distance and did not come into their barracks was because of the infestation of fleas! The presence of the fleas gave them the freedom to read their Bible to the prisoners every night. Thank God for the fleas!

I know God has showered His blessings on me during this season. I see His gracious hand in all of this. None of this has come as a surprise to Him. He has been preparing the way for me long before my diagnosis or this pandemic began. His word promises His plan for my life is good. “For I know the plans I have for you”, declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11. I can rest in Him and trust His good plan.

Gary and I left for Texas Thursday morning and traveled, without stopping, to MDA. Before we took our masks off, we Lysoled and Cloroxed the room at Rotary House as the clinical trial supervisor had instructed. We brought our dinner with us and didn’t leave the room until I left for my appointments on Friday morning. At the entrance to MDA I was given a new mask to put on and answered the questions about contact with anyone who had or was suspected of having COVID-19, and any symptoms I was experiencing. I told them I had no symptoms and no contact with anyone who had, and had been quarantined at my home since my last chemotherapy treatment on March 20. However, since I traveled from Louisiana I was given a red bracelet and told to make sure it was visible at all times. When I checked in for my bloodwork I was sent to a closed isolation room to have my blood drawn, then told to go straight to the Ambulatory Treatment Center (where the chemotherapy is administered) to check in. Even though my appointment for chemotherapy wasn’t for four hours, a nurse came and escorted me immediately to a treatment room, closed the door and put a no contact sign up. I had to wait for my bloodwork to come back and my oncologist to sign off on it before my chemotherapy could begin, but it didn’t take as long as I anticipated. My chemo began at 12:15 and I was discharged at 2:45. We were at home in Natchitoches before dark. I know the red bracelet was intended to protect the staff and other patients from me and any potential risk I may have posed, but I felt like it was shield of protection for me. I knew I hadn’t been exposed to COVID-19, and by being placed in isolation, I knew my risk of exposure would be minimized. I was grateful for the red bracelet.

So far the side effects from this round of chemotherapy have, again, been minimal. I’ve had no nausea. I’ve also experienced much less fatigue than last time. Perhaps some of the fatigue following the first chemotherapy was due to the surgery for the port. I did have severe back pain seven days after the Neulasta injection that  lasted about 12 hours and I am anticipating that will probably happen again. That’s ok, because I know that it’s working and helping my body boost my blood counts to where they need to be. Another thing I am truly grateful for. My hair has begun to fall out and that’s ok too. Yesterday Gary got out the clippers and gave me a buzz cut. Definitely an act of trust to let your husband give you a haircut! I am grateful Gary is by my side and still thinks I’m beautiful even with a few bald spots!

I am thankful for the “fleas” in my life. I choose to be grateful for my diagnosis. I choose to be grateful for the roadblocks. I choose to be grateful for red bracelets. And I will choose to be grateful for whatever new obstacle comes my way because I know it is all in God’s hands and He has a plan.