Hello friends! I recently had a woman say she went back to read about my cancer journey and when she came to the last entry which was more than 6 months ago (!) ago she thought maybe I’d died. Oops. Guess it’s time for an update!
First and foremost, I’m still kickin! Cancer – and ovarian cancer in particular – can be pretty tricky to treat and I’ve cycled through a lot of treatments so far that are effective at shrinking and killing the tumors, only to have the treatment stop working. In February I started a trial drug at MD Anderson with one of the top cancer researchers in the world, Dr. Timothy Yap – it was exciting to see what the future holds for personalized cancer treatment. They identified the genetic mutation in my body that allowed the cancer to grow, and then the idea was to use that mutation against itself with this drug (it was called a PARP-II inhibitor). Of course I was curious to know if we had the ability to figure out what the mutation was that allowed the cancer to grow, then the next obvious step would be to figure out what caused the mutation in the first place! Turns out that’s a little trickier. I was told by Dr. Yap that by the time we hit 60 we have been exposed to so many environmental factors that, unless it’s hereditary, it could literally be one of hundreds of thousands of things we were exposed to in our lifetime. So, yes – diet, exercise, reducing stress, spirituality, positivity and good relationships all play a role in staying healthy. But lesson learned – don’t beat yourself up trying to figure out “why me?” After 6 decades of living, the answer is probably, “why not me?”
Unfortunately I had mixed results on the trial drug so it was decided not to continue with it. I start a new round of chemotherapy next week and will receive that treatment once every three weeks. I am confident it will help me start to feel better and back to normal (whatever that is!). I am grateful for so much good medicine — in all it’s forms. I do as much “alternative” medicine as I am comfortable with, loads of adjunct therapies, and of course, standard care. How lucky are we to live in times like these?
But I’m not gonna sugarcoat it – the last five months have been pretty brutal. I was in excruciating pain (one friend said she knew it was bad when I used the word excruciating because that’s so unlike me – so that gives you an idea of what I was dealing with!). The pain was due to some cancer in the psoas muscle which is critical to walking and standing, both of which were, well, excruciating for me. My sister took one look at the way I was walking and strategically placed chairs around the house so I could sit at a moment’s notice. The Chapel staff would quietly bring me a stool to preach from each week. And I’d need a whole other blog post to tell you the ways in which my husband has been my hands and feet these past five months – I have no idea what I’d do without him.
Finally, in early May I got a big dose of radiation direct to the psoas to shrink that tumor and voila – I am no longer in pain. Let me tell you – I have such empathy for people in chronic pain. It is literally all you can think about, you manage your day around it, and you create whole new systems to deal with it. I have come across some great resources on the mind-body connection to help manage pain, and different ways of thinking about pain. But make no mistake – it can be soul-crushing. Go easy on your people in pain. They want nothing more than to be normal, I promise you.
So I am finally, blissfully, pain-free at the moment, although there are other things I’m still dealing with (I have put on 20 pounds of fluid around my abdomen so that’s fun); I’m eager to get started with this treatment and feel better overall. My daughter’s wedding is in two months! And our grandson just turned one year old! I am still preaching and leading Snowmass Chapel, and love getting to sit outside or even stroll to an easy access on the river now that spring has sprung. Yesterday I saw a car that looked like mine, with a mountain bike loaded on the back. I burst into tears. It’s so hard to think of those activities that I, frankly, took for granted, and might never do again. But then I am reminded of all I can still do, and all I have left to do, and I am grateful.
I love this quote from a blessing on being human, by Kate Bowler:
Oh how blessed are we in our fragility and dependence and brokenness,
knowing that You, O God, hold all things together. There is no cure for being human…but for each other, we are all good medicine.
You are all good medicine for me. I pray for you and hope you’re well.
Charla

Yes, I avoid sugar, but sometimes you gotta celebrate with a drive-through milkshake.

Leave a reply to Penney Evans-Carruth Cancel reply