Georgia and Patrick

My babies!

Patrick's Pictures

Patrick Pictures and Breast Surgery

Good morning! I had my breast reconstruction surgery this morning and am now recovering in my room. Baby Patrick is a dream. P.J. and my mom are here now. We're just so happy about everything.

Rebecca flew in from Atlanta to surprise me on Monday. I didn't expect her to be here since she is planning to fly in next week with Logan, Julia and our Dad for Halloween. She came in while I was in labor and stayed through the delivery. That was so special. It has been nice to have our professional photographer with us throughout the past few days.

I'm pretty tired, but wanted to post some of her photos to show off our son. We'll be going home tomorrow. Thank you for for keeping my family in your thoughts and prayers.

xxoo

Jana

Surgery Day

Today is the day Jana has her tissue expanders removed and the new, permanent boobs put in. She went into surgery around 8:30 this morning and they are expecting to have her for a little under 2 hours.

She had another really good night of sleep, which has been rare the last few months, so she was feeling really good before the operation. She also got to spend some time with Patrick before she went in, so that put a huge smile on her face.

I'll update you all later as time allows.

It's not P.J. Jr.

But we did name him Patrick John O'Neil, Jr. We're calling him Patrick.

Obviously, big sister Georgia is thrilled.

More updates to come soon.

Baby Day

Well the day has finally come. We came to the hospital at 9 this morning after yet another night of little sleep for Jana (contractions started at about 3:30 this AM). Everything is progressing very nicely. Jana is at 6 cm right now and the baby should come sometime this evening.

The staff here are great and we couldn't be happier with the way everything is going.

We should have some news later tonight.

Thanks for all of your good thoughts and prayers.

P.J.

Count down to baby!

I know it's been a long time since I've written. We are in the home stretch now and I'm scheduled to be induced on Monday, October 19. These past few weeks have been filled with numerous doctors appointments, errands, spending time with friends and nesting. My energy is good and most importantly, so are my blood counts. Even my hair is growing back, but is mostly gray (I'll fix that when I have enough!).

Even though I haven't been blogging, I've been keeping a handwritten journal with notes of things to share (and some not to share). Here are a few recent tidbits:

- P.J. and I have both had celebrity citings: mine of Vince Vaughn in Market Square. P.J. played poker with Julian and Ed from the Bachelorette. He said Julian is cute and fun; however, Ed seemed more interested in the other guys than Julian.
- With her usual enthusiasm, my mom has made the Cancer Warrior's group in my hometown of Griffin, Georgia her newest volunteer endeavor. She's been helping them out at the county fairgrounds with their information booth and soliciting donations from local businesses. In my honor, my mom is generously matching all donations to their organization this month.
- Georgia wants to have playdates with my former gynecologist's daughter. If you have read my previous blog entries about that doctor, you know why this bothers me. We just keep putting it off and limiting our contact to soccer practice and games.
- While having a manicure and pedicure with Georgia at a local Asian salon, a manicurist asked me how many children I have. I pointed to Georgia and said she's one and then pointed to my stomach and said this one is two. The manicurist said "why so far apart?" in a judgmental kinda way. I hate this question and seem to only get it from women from different cultural backgrounds. I replied, "I've lost six babies," which I thought was a simpler explanation than I've had six miscarriages and struggled with infertility. End of subject. She mumbled "sorry" and started speaking Chinese to her coworkers, about me, I'm sure.
- During this National Breast Cancer Awareness month, it's been amazing to see all the co-branding of products. P.J. and I have been on the look out for the most random, unusual product that gives a portion of their purchase to a breast cancer organization. Outside of the Duracell batteries, Kitchenaid apple corer, York Peppermint Patties, I think the oddest co-branding is Quilted Northern toilet paper. Wipe for the Cure?
- Our cleaning lady likes to put my maternity shirts in my 8-year-old daughter's closet. Even the labels say maternity in the brand names. Two t-shirts that she regularly puts in there have messages on them: one says "Oh, Boy!" and the other says "Will trade husband for chocolate." Does she think that Georgia is pregnant and married? I guess she can't read English. This was proven to me yesterday when I left a list of "not miss" items to clean and they were all missed.

This past Monday was the first one in 22 weeks that I have not had to go to my oncologist's office for bloodwork or chemo. It was actually kinda weird to be out of my routine. The nurses and staff always make me feel so good. I missed them this week. My oncology break lasts until Monday, November 2 when I go back for bloodwork and a check-up to see if I'm ready to begin chemo again the following Monday. Then I'll be back every Monday for 12 consecutive weeks while I do my next round of treatments.

I don't know if I'll have a chance to write again before Monday. My mom and cousin Angie are arriving this Saturday to help out when I go into the hospital. If all goes well with my induction on Monday, then I will have another procedure on Tuesday to swap out my tissue expanders for breast implants. I anticipate that I will be in the hospital until Thursday. P.J. will update the blog with stats on our baby and photos.

Thank you so very much for all your prayers to keep our baby and me safe and healthy. I believe that is what has kept me well through this amazing journey. Your support means the world to me.

We can't wait to introduce you to our miracle baby boy in just a few days.

Love,
Jana

Random things to share

I'm still recovering from a big night last night. My awesome book club friends and breast cancer "big sister" Susanne held a celebration dinner for our miracle baby. For all practical purposes, it was a couples baby shower with a sit-down dinner for 50. It was an amazing evening where P.J. and I were surrounded by some of our closest friends who have been there for us every step of the way during this amazing journey. We were overwhelmed by the generosity of our friends showering us with fabulous (and frivolous) gifts for our baby boy and touched by all the kind words of support and love. Many of us were in tears when we weren't laughing our fannies off. Good times that I'll never forget.

My dear Great Aunt Margaret passed away on September 11. We are all relieved that she didn't suffer long from her kidney failure. That was my last day of chemo (before the baby is born). My cousin Anna called to share the news while I was having a non-stress test at Maternal-Fetal Medicine. Fortunately, I sent her call into voice mail which I picked up later and then had my cry fest. Aunt Margaret's cynicism and humor will be greatly missed.

The same night Aunt Margaret died, I put my exhausted self to bed early at 6 p.m. while P.J. took Georgia to a family dinner for the Kevin Gorter Memorial Golf Outing. During the dinner, they bought three raffle tickets for door prizes. P.J. put a ticket in each of our names. Ironically, my name was drawn and I (we) won a MacBook computer. Georgia claimed it and ran off. We're still fighting over it. I NEVER win anything.

At Georgia's first soccer game of the season, her coach's wife who is my former OBGYN approached me immediately and asked if it was uncomfortable for me to be there with her after what had happened between us at the beginning of my breast cancer diagnosis and pregnancy. I told her that I wasn't uncomfortable with her, but was glad we had a chance to be together so we could talk. I caught her up on my health and told her that if she ever comes across another patient in my situation that she please will treat them differently and refer them to M.D. Anderson and Evanston/Northshore Maternal-Fetal Medicine. She expressed her feelings about me and my situation saying that she is thrilled that it is all working out. I thanked her for insisting I have early mammograms that may have saved my life. It's all good now. I can comfortably spend the rest of the soccer season sitting with her beside the field.

Georgia announced to P.J. and me yesterday in all seriousness that she is a vampire-in-training. What?! She explained how it happened when she was in the north Georgia mountains this summer when she supposedly was bit on the neck by a bat. She went into great detail about how her fangs haven't come in yet and that she still was a girl that could be outside during the day and didn't have to drink blood, but could just have red Gatorade. We were cracking up, but she was so serious and has kept this up even today. Hmmmmm ... makes me wonder if there is any truth to this! (just kidding)

Thank you to the Cancer Warriors organization in my hometown of Griffin, Georgia. They have been praying for my recovery and for my family, sending me notes of encouragement, and a wonderful care package. They even organized a large group to ride their motorcycles to Warm Springs and back and a cyclist wore my name on his wrist band. It is heartwarming to have people you don't know do things like this for you.

I had a huge burst of energy this past Friday and baked eight pecan pies. Never in my life have I baked so many at once. I was on a roll. They were for the hosts of the party on Saturday night. It was actually very enjoyable. What fun to bake in my new oven!

My cradle cap is gross. I can't stop scratching it and making it snow. Ahhhh, the joys of losing your hair.

Those are all my random thoughts for tonight. It's past time for bed. I'll be in touch when I have something interesting to share.

Take care!
Love,
Jana

Early Morning Musings

Well, I can't sleep so I thought I'd write. After a night of tossing and turning, trying to stay comfortable in my pregnant body while be connected to a chemotherapy pump, I watched the clock for another hour before deciding to get up. Tonight, the big problems are heartburn and leg cramps. And the baby is tossing and turning inside me, too. I love it, but I really need some sleep.

My poor daughter, Georgia, had a rough afternoon yesterday. She came home from school and was a good girl spending an hour or so doing her homework before watching any tv. After she got dressed for her first dance classes of the season, Georgia was bounding down the stairs with her usual vigor and missed the last three. With that came a flood of tears and many bruises. We sat on the floor together for about 5 minutes before she was able to collect herself and go to dance.

Then after dance, we took her friend Skylar home. The two ran to her front door and somehow Georgia tripped again, this time making a face plant on Skylar's cement sidewalk and front step. This time, Georgia ended up with a mouth full of blood and a skint knee. Very traumatic. Through her blood and tears, Georgia said her life is so rough (which is a saying she has used from time to time since all my stuff began). Poor thing. My heart aches for her at times like that. I hope that her fat lip is better when she gets up in a few hours and she can put this past her quickly. And that she doesn't fall down today.

A weird thing happened late Monday night. Around 9:30 p.m., our caller id lights up with the name of my former OB-GYN's name. Our bedroom phone ringer is always on mute and I was drifting off to sleep and didn't pick up the phone in time. Intrigued, I listen to the message and learn that it is from Georgia's new soccer coach - who's wife is my former OB-GYN. I haven't spoken to her since March 7 when I had to go into her office to have bloodwork to confirm my pregnancy. That was the day that she told me I had to terminate because I couldn't be treated for cancer while in early pregnancy and that I had to put my family as it existed first and end my dreams of ever having another child. That was one of the toughest doctor's visits I/we have had. After pressing this doctor further to seek a referral to anyone who has worked with pregnant cancer patients, she connected us to the high risk group - Center for Maternal-Fetal Medicine at Evanston Northshore Hospital. They are the ones who restored our confidence a few days later when we met with the director, Dr. Scott McGregor, who happened to be a specialist on pregnant cancer patients. This also coincided with the introduction to Dr. Theriault at M.D. Anderson who was equally confident.

So, we begin soccer season this Saturday when I have to come face-to-face with my former OB-GYN. I think she'll be surprised to see me at 32 weeks pregnant after having a mastectomy and receiving 6 rounds of chemo. I do have her to thank for insisting I have mammograms before age 40 (although she did not follow up with me but once after my breast cancer diagnosis) and giving us the referral to Maternal-Fetal Medicine. As we all know, God works in mysterious ways. Maybe this opportunity to sit with her at soccer games on for the next 10 Saturdays is His way of telling me to get over my lingering anger of my last dealings with her, to thank her for setting us on the right path and to show her that you can keep a pregnancy and still be treated for cancer.

Right now, I'm really missing my dog Duke. In the quietness of the house, I miss the sound of him snoring in his sleep. Thankfully, all I have to do is listen to P.J. snore and think about how they both would drive me crazy and sometimes wake me up at night. How long does it take to stop missing your old dog friend? (sob)

Today, my dear friends Katie and Sarah are coming over and bringing me lunch. I'm really looking forward to catching up with them since we haven't spent a lot of time together since the year we worked on the 2008 LFCDS Auction. Also today, my sweetest sister-in-law Molly is making us one of her famous health-conscience, yummy dinners. I am definitely spoiled! We have never eaten so well!

This weekend, we are planning to see our old friends, Scott, Julie and Davis, who will be in town from Mississippi for an iconic Chicago weekend. I'm envious of their plans to catch two U2 concerts, a Cubs' game and play tourists during a beautiful early fall weekend in Chicago. So glad that we can go into the city to see them on Sunday.

Since I'm up so early, I think I'll surprise P.J. and Georgia with a special homemade breakfast treat. They will be shocked to come down the stairs this morning to the smells of banana-chocolate chip monkey bread. They'll probably wonder who brought us breakfast! Better get cooking.

Thanks for putting up to my early morning musings. Hope y'all have a great day!

xxoo
Jana

The Great Hair Adventure

Taken in July, the view under my hat and scarf. I can't believe that I'm actually posting this photo. I've definitely lost all sense of modesty!




Georgia and me in late June.





During my second round of chemo - trying to hide my pregnancy bump until we were ready to share our news. I as about 19 weeks pregnant.








First major hair loss on June 20 during a shower. Glad I had my hair cut short weeks before (minus 10 inches). Even though I've lost a ton of hair, I just don't want to shave it off. I may be kidding myself, but I think a little scraggly hair peaking out from under a hat or scarf makes me look less sick than a bald head. Am already thinking about coming back as a brunette - like in my youth. Everyone will have to wait and see!

Baby's Last Round of Chemo

It's hard to believe that I began my 6th round of chemo today. These treatments have really flown by. I'm currently on my Adriamycin pump until Friday - always a bummer. At 31 weeks, my baby boy is doing really well. It's tough to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time as I'm constantly having to readjust my belly, hips, pump or go to the loo. I try to catch up during the day with naps.

My blood counts have rebounded from last week and since I'm on Decadrone (a steroid) this week, I finally have some energy. All my doctors are exceedingly pleased with both mine and the baby's progress. P.J. and I also feel very good about everything and keep hoping it lasts. :)

I spent a lot of the Labor Day weekend resting. I just didn't have the drive to get much done. It was nice to go swimming yesterday in Posy's pool and to feel buoyant with my belly and tissue expanders.

Would you believe at my ultrasound last week that the technician saw HAIR on our son? Amazing! He may have more hair at birth than his mom and dad do! I think I'm experiencing another period of hair loss as I'm shedding a little more heavily again and my eyebrows are starting to look more skimpy. Despite that, my leg hair is still growing and I still have to shave. The nurses were telling me today that normally with Adriamycin, I should be hairless by now - all over my body. I still have hair all over - inside my nose, arms, torso, etc. We are all amazed by this. I do have a case of cradle cap as my scalp is very scalely. Nice. Don't you love the unique grooming problems I have?

I'm very sad to share that my awesome Great Aunt Margaret is experiencing kidney failure. She's 89-years-old and is a pistol. She lives in Atlanta and just moved into hospice today. She called me last month and we had a very lively conversation. I'll treasure that as there is no way that I can travel down there to see her in her final days. Aunt Margaret is an amazing woman.

I'm going to go to bed now. I'm reading a great book called "The Middle Place," by Kelly Corrigan. She writes of her firsthand account of having breast cancer as a 37-year-old mom while dealing with her father's late stage bladder cancer. I sometimes like to read about other's experiences - depending on their attitude and the outcome.

I'll write more this week.

xxoo
Jana

Due Date Update and More!

Hello dear friends and family,

Just wanted to update y'all on our latest developments. Most importantly, we have an official induction date - Monday, October 19. I will be 37 weeks pregnant and the baby should be ready to be born. I could go in the week before; however since I would be 36 weeks pregnant, Maternal - Fetal Medicine would require me to have an amniocentisis (sp) to check the development of the baby's lungs to see if they are mature enough for him to be born without complications. Not wanting to do that, I negotiated an additional week with my oncologist and obstetricians to be assured that our baby will be as healthy as possible.

I'm also pleased that while I'm in the hospital, my reconstructive surgeon will perform a procedure to swap out my tissue expanders with breast implants. This will happen a day or two after I give birth and will give me the chance to recover in the hospital vs. going straight home following this surgery (since it is normally offered as an out-patient procedure). Since I'm not able to breast feed my son anyway, I am delighted that I can have this done now, which helps me get closer to completing all my care. My breasts have to be reconstructed before I begin radiation (because the radiated skin is different) and I have to be off chemo for about 3 weeks before doing this and then recover for at least two weeks before beginning radiation and I so desparately want to wrap all this up by spring break next year.

My sixth and last round of chemo (FAC) before delivery is next week - Tuesday - Friday. I will spend the following weeks recovering and getting my white blood count back up to normal range in order to be strong for the birth. Probably 2-3 weeks after birth, I will begin my next stage of chemo called Taxol, which will be administered by IV ekly for 12 weeks. Am told that whatever hair has grown during my approximately 8 weeks off treatment while then fall out (an maybe the hair I have stubbornly held onto). Am also told Taxol shouldn't be has rough on my system as FAC (which really hasn't been that bad). Shortly after completing Taxol early next year, I will have radiation for probably 30 rounds (Monday - Friday lasting for 6 weeks). Have yet to meet with the radiation oncologist to set that up, but am told to expect a schedule like that.

So here I am, just a day shy of being 31 weeks pregnant. When asked how I feel, I say that I feel more pregnant than "cancer girl" (can I still call myself a girl at age 40?). Sometimes it's difficult to separate the symptoms of one from the other. For the most part, I am tired to the core. This is my "off week" before my next round of chemo, so that is to be expected. Meanwhile, my hips ache all the time from the pregnancy making it really tough to get a good night's sleep in addition to having to get up to go to the bathroom 3-4 times each night, plus the occasional heartburn and leg cramps. I've wanted another child for so long that I don't mind the discomfort.

My swollen belly becomes distorted when the baby stretches and moves around. He constantly reminds me that he is in there and is very much alive, healthy and is growing stronger day by day. He is such a miracle and has made this cancer journey much more tolerable.

Just when we thought we had our hands full enough, something else happens. Last week, I was driving home from Grayslake and was stopped at a red light when I was rear-ended. Fortunately, I was ok and declined to take an ambulance ride to the hospital. I felt really bad for the kid who hit me who was born the year I graduated from high school (1987). After being concerned for me, he shared his concern about soon-to-be rising premium for car insurance. I reminded him it could have been worse.

Today I picked up Duke's paw print at the vet. This time I didn't cry in their office. Honestly, the whole staff came out to see what I thought of the print as they were very proud of the final product. Fortunately, I had written them a thank you note and had a pound of my friend's amazing toffee (Kristen Weisberg's Toffee Traditions - you must try it if your haven't yet) to give them in appreciation for all their care and concern. This also gave me the chance to tell them how freaky it was to receive a Ziplock bag of my dog's fur during my previous visit. We all laughed as we remembered Duke and his gas. Glad all that is over now.

Georgia finally started 3rd grade today. To say that she is happy to be back is an understatement. She woke us up at 5:30 this morning - all chipper and ready for the big day. P.J. and I are also happy that she is back in her nurturing environment at Lake Forest Country Day School.

Didn't mean for this entry to be so long. As you know by now, when I finally make the time to write, I want to get it all out there. So now you have our latest and greatest. Continue to keep us in your prayers.

Much love,
Jana

Duke part III

After I dropped Duke off, the vet asked if we wanted his ashes. I immediately said no. A lot of people do this - get their pet's ashes and keep them in an urn, or spread them out in his/her favorite places. That's just fine. Personally, I am not like that. Duke was gone, so let's let him go. No need to prolong the pain.

Sensing I might be a heartless bastard (or sensing one last chance at revenue-yes, I said it), once I left, the vet called my wife and asked her if she wanted the ashes. She was a bit too distraught to make her decision just then, so they told her they would keep them around, in case she wanted them at a later date.

Fast forward two weeks. I went back in to return his unused medicine - which they took. I asked if they still had his ashes as Jana was going to make a decision soon. Shockingly, their answer was no. Even more shockingly, they said he had NOT been cremated, but was still in the back in a cooler. Ummmm...OK.

Actually, I found this kind of funny for some reason. Not really sure why.

I immediately called Jana to tell her she could still have Duke's ashes - and being the idiot that I am, I told her he was still in a cooler. Well, this news had the predictable effect of a whole new round of sobbing. I really am an idiot.

After she calmed down, we debated about whether or not to keep the ashes - again. I told her instead of keeping the ashes, they would do a paw print in one of those clay mold things you get at a craft store.

She was happy about that idea, so that's what we decided to do.

Fast forward another two weeks (yes, Duke is still in the cooler-I hope they don't charge storage fees), and Jana finally went in to the vet to drop off the clay mold kit - I think she took in four of them.

While she was there, they asked her to wait to make sure they could still get a decent mold of his paw(s). When the nurse(?) returned, she not only informed Jana that they would be able to get a good print, she also gave Jana a little ziplock baggie.

It seems that while back there, this wonderful lady had taken it upon herself to shave a bit of Duke's fur, bag it up and give it to Jana as one last keepsake. I am not kidding.

Once again, this had the predictable effect of causing a new round of sobbing. When she calmed down enough to call and tell me about it, she had found a way to think this was kind of funny - or maybe so out there that it couldn't be anything but funny.

So now, one of the other ladies from the vet office has taken the clay molds of our dead dog's paw prints home, to glaze them and make them really nice.

We get them back this week - I can't wait.

Duke Part Deux

It's been a while since I posted anything - and quite frankly, I haven't had much to say (not that I normally do anyway). But I thought it might be a good time to put something up.

As you all know by now, we lost our beloved Duke a few weeks ago. I was with him when he went, so that is somewhat comforting, but I can tell you it's not much fun (much better than having to put him down though). I went upsatirs to let Jana know and of course she was so upset that she didn't sleep for the rest of the night. I knew that would happen, but I figured she'd be pissed if I didn't tell her immediately. We struggled with what to do with him overnight as our vet was closed - it being midnight - so I called the local emergency vet. They said I could bring him in if I wanted, or I could wait until our vet opened in the morning. However, if I chose that path, I would need to put him someplace cool. The lady on the phone (are they nurses?) stressed that point.

We decided to keep him one last night. I carried him down to the basement and placed him on his dog bed. Fortunately, Georgia didn't notice he wasn't around the next morning. Thank God she didn't go downstairs to watch TV for breakfast.

After notifying our vet about Duke's demise, they said to bring him in whenever we were comfortable doing so. No time like the present - so I went down to get him. As difficult as it was to carry 65 pounds of dead weight (sorry for the bad pun) downstairs, it was even worse bringing him up.

It seems as though rigormortis set in overnight. I had to carry up 65 pounds of frozen solid weight - with his legs sticking straight out. Let me tell you, it was not easy adjusting him to fit through the door.

Luck of all luck, when I finally got him upstairs and into the car, I noticed it was the one 90+ degree day we've had all year. I quickly got in the car, rolled down the windows and started on my way to drop him off for the last time. As he warmed up, all of the gases he had built up overnight began to release. Now, Duke was always a farter. It was one of the things that endeared him to all. Seriously, he could compete with anyone for volume and odor. But what I went through in that car was unlike anything I have ever experienced. Even in death, he was the king of the SBD - only this time, he wouldn't be raising his head to look at me and then walk out of the room (I always knew he did that on purpose).

The vet had me bring Duke in the back door and place him on top of a cooler...

Our family

More visitors!

Georgia holding cousin Julia during her visit to Lake Forest.




Me holding neice Julia while on Lake Forest beach. See, I still have hair on the back of my head.



My sister, Rebecca, and me. I was so very happy she brought Julia on her first plane ride to meet me.











Cousin Rachel from Atlanta came to see us, too. It was great to hang out with her. I'm so lucky to have so many visitors! Hope everyone keeps coming!!! It means the world to me!

Visitors Make Time Fly!

Angie's visit in May 2009. The best part of being unable to travel is that everyone is willing to come see you! Love the quality time with each of our out-of-town visitors including my parents, Angie (twice - once with Sam), Anna, Maureen, Sarah, Les & Brian, Laura & James, Wendy & Ella, The Gwaltneys, The Beaupres, Rebecca & Julia. Keeping busy has tremendously helped making my treatments go by faster. xxoo

Pregnant friends!

Old, pregnant friends - Wendy and Jana. Friends since Agnes Scott College in 1988, now 21 years later. Loved Wendy and Ella's visit to Lake Forest. Will see them in Atlanta next summer and hopefully in Switzerland next fall.

Our favorite teacher!

Georgia with her favorite teacher Kelly Huetteman and me after Kelly won the Yvonne Banks Caring Teacher Award.
May 2009

Good boy, Duke!

Best Buds - Duke and Georgia

Georgia and Duke in May 2009 before a soccer game. Duke is modeling a breast cancer awareness scarf that P.J. surprised me with. Georgia and Duke were great buddies.

Losing Duke and Chemo Round 5

Good morning. I'm writing as I sit in my lounge chair in my oncologist's office receiving my fifth round of my regular chemo cocktail of FAC plus Ativan, Decadron and Zofran. It's a really crowded treatment room and the 18 patient chairs are rapidly filling up. I can think of a million other places I'd rather be right now than here. But I know that each round puts me closer to finishing.

My baby boy is kicking my stomach hard reminding me of how important it is to go through all this. Had an 28 week ultrasound last Friday and he looks great and weighs around 3 lbs. My dear sister Rebecca was with me along with her precious 7-week-0ld daughter, Julia. They flew up from Georgia to visit us for a few days. This gave me a chance to practice caring for a newborn and to testrun our baby's room and equipment. Rebecca and I had not seen each other since early April, prior to my mastectomy and chemo. I look quite different now with my pregnant belly and hair loss, not to mention my temporary breasts (thanks to ROCK-HARD, perky tissue expanders). We had a wonderful time just catching up and talking baby stuff. Nice to focus on something other than my cancer.

Georgia and P.J. got a lot of practice with a newborn, too. At times, we were all fighting to hold Julia. None of us fought over changing her diapers though as we know our share is soon coming. I loved playing dress-up with Julia in Georgia's old smocked baby dresses.

Julie was a wonderful distraction for us in the days that followed our beloved dog Duke's death late last Monday night. Our emotions have been very raw as we are coping with his sudden death from a heart attack. P.J. had taken him for their nightly walk around 11:00 p.m. Duke struggled; they came home and by 11:30 p.m., he was gone. P.J. woke me up to tell me the news and get the vet's number. I had only been asleep for about 2 hours and couldn't go back to sleep for the rest of the night. Earlier that day, I had had my blood drawn only to find out that my counts were the lowest ever since beginning chemo. Because chemo is a cumulative effect, this was expected, but it meant that I really need to take care of myself to not get run-down.

Duke's death sent me into a temporary downward spiral. It's painful to talk and write about my sadness and deep mourning for our sweet dog. I'll just say that I had to take some Valium and go to bed until Wednesday when Rebecca and Julia arrived. Georgia is still grieving, too. She now knows all about cremation and wants to pick up Duke's ashes right away. I am in no hurry to handle that. She has even saved his black leather studded "tough dog" collar with tags and has it on display in her bedroom among her dolls. Sometimes I hear her shaking his tags which send me into tears. It's Georgia's way of remembering Duke.

Rebecca got Georgia some Mexican Jumping Beans to fill the pet void temporarily. Their jumping all night long in their plastic case is like popcorn popping - annoying! P.J. and I are planning to postpone adopting another dog until after Spring Break when I am through with my radiation and we have hopefully had a much-needed vacation.

Georgia's enjoying her second week of sailing camp. We just found out her teacher for next year - Mrs. Binkley - who is expecting a baby in February. We're trying on old uniforms, ordering new ones and shoes and getting excited about going back to school on September 2. Between now and then, we'll try to fit as much summer fun in as we can. My mom/Nana is coming to visit on Saturday for a week. She hasn't been here since May and is eager to see me in my full pregnancy/chemo body. When Georgia isn't playing tennis, swimming or golf next week, we will be doing projects to prepare for baby and having fun with Nana.

I'll be disconnected from my IV pole shortly and hooked up to my lovely pump for my 72-hour infusion of Adriamycin. FUN. Then home to rest for much of the day.

Thank you for your continued support and especially for your prayers.

All my love,
Jana

Don't Waste Your Cancer

Dear all,

This article was passed onto me by someone who has recently been declared cancer-free by her doctors. This is very moving and struck a cord with me. I had to share it with you.

Love,
Jana


Don't Waste Your Cancer
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By John Piper February 15, 2006

[Editor's Note: Our friend, David Powlison, of the Christian Counseling and Education Foundation, who also was recently diagnosed with prostate cancer, has added some helpful expansions to John Piper’s ten points. Indented paragraphs beginning with "DP:" are written by David Powlison.]

I write this on the eve of prostate surgery. I believe in God’s power to heal—by miracle and by medicine. I believe it is right and good to pray for both kinds of healing. Cancer is not wasted when it is healed by God. He gets the glory and that is why cancer exists. So not to pray for healing may waste your cancer. But healing is not God’s plan for everyone. And there are many other ways to waste your cancer. I am praying for myself and for you that we will not waste this pain.

DP: I (David Powlison) add these reflections on John Piper’s words the morning after receiving news that I have been diagnosed with prostate cancer (March 3, 2006). The ten main points and first paragraphs are his; the second paragraphs are mine.

1. You will waste your cancer if you do not believe it is designed for you by God.
It will not do to say that God only uses our cancer but does not design it. What God permits, he permits for a reason. And that reason is his design. If God foresees molecular developments becoming cancer, he can stop it or not. If he does not, he has a purpose. Since he is infinitely wise, it is right to call this purpose a design. Satan is real and causes many pleasures and pains. But he is not ultimate. So when he strikes Job with boils (Job 2:7), Job attributes it ultimately to God (2:10) and the inspired writer agrees: “They . . . comforted him for all the evil that the Lord had brought upon him” (Job 42:11). If you don’t believe your cancer is designed for you by God, you will waste it.

DP: Recognizing his designing hand does not make you stoic or dishonest or artificially buoyant. Instead, the reality of God’s design elicits and channels your honest outcry to your one true Savior. God’s design invites honest speech, rather than silencing us into resignation. Consider the honesty of the Psalms, of King Hezekiah (Isaiah 38), of Habakkuk 3. These people are bluntly, believingly honest because they know that God is God and set their hopes in him. Psalm 28 teaches you passionate, direct prayer to God. He must hear you. He will hear you. He will continue to work in you and your situation. This outcry comes from your sense of need for help (28:1-2). Then name your particular troubles to God (28:3-5). You are free to personalize with your own particulars. Often in life’s ‘various trials’ (James 1:2), what you face does not exactly map on to the particulars that David or Jesus faced - but the dynamic of faith is the same. Having cast your cares on him who cares for you, then voice your joy (28:6-7): the God-given peace that is beyond understanding. Finally, because faith always works out into love, your personal need and joy will branch out into loving concern for others (28:8-9). Illness can sharpen your awareness of how thoroughly God has already and always been at work in every detail of your life.

2. You will waste your cancer if you believe it is a curse and not a gift.
“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us” (Galatians 3:13). “There is no enchantment against Jacob, no divination against Israel” (Numbers 23:23). “The Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly” (Psalm 84:11).

DP: The blessing comes in what God does for us, with us, through us. He brings his great and merciful redemption onto the stage of the curse. Your cancer, in itself, is one of those 10,000 ‘shadows of death’ (Psalm 23:4) that come upon each of us: all the threats, losses, pains, incompletion, disappointment, evils. But in his beloved children, our Father works a most kind good through our most grievous losses: sometimes healing and restoring the body (temporarily, until the resurrection of the dead to eternal life), always sustaining and teaching us that we might know and love him more simply. In the testing ground of evils, your faith becomes deep and real, and your love becomes purposeful and wise: James 1:2-5, 1 Peter 1:3-9, Romans 5:1-5, Romans 8:18-39.

3. You will waste your cancer if you seek comfort from your odds rather than from God.
The design of God in your cancer is not to train you in the rationalistic, human calculation of odds. The world gets comfort from their odds. Not Christians. Some count their chariots (percentages of survival) and some count their horses (side effects of treatment), but we trust in the name of the Lord our God (Psalm 20:7). God’s design is clear from 2 Corinthians 1:9, “We felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead.” The aim of God in your cancer (among a thousand other good things) is to knock props out from under our hearts so that we rely utterly on him.

DP: God himself is your comfort. He gives himself. The hymn “Be Still My Soul” (by Katerina von Schlegel) reckons the odds the right way: we are 100% certain to suffer, and Christ is 100% certain to meet us, to come for us, comfort us, and restore love’s purest joys. The hymn “How Firm a Foundation” reckons the odds the same way: you are 100% certain to pass through grave distresses, and your Savior is 100% certain to “be with you, your troubles to bless, and sanctify to you your deepest distress.” With God, you aren’t playing percentages, but living within certainties.

4. You will waste your cancer if you refuse to think about death.
We will all die, if Jesus postpones his return. Not to think about what it will be like to leave this life and meet God is folly. Ecclesiastes 7:2 says, “It is better to go to the house of mourning [a funeral] than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart.” How can you lay it to heart if you won’t think about it? Psalm 90:12 says, “Teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” Numbering your days means thinking about how few there are and that they will end. How will you get a heart of wisdom if you refuse to think about this? What a waste, if we do not think about death.

DP: Paul describes the Holy Spirit is the unseen, inner ‘downpayment’ on the certainty of life. By faith, the Lord gives a sweet taste of the face-to-face reality of eternal life in the presence of our God and Christ. We might also say that cancer is one ‘downpayment’ on inevitable death, giving one bad taste of the reality of of our mortality. Cancer is a signpost pointing to something far bigger: the last enemy that you must face. But Christ has defeated this last enemy: 1 Corinthians 15. Death is swallowed up in victory. Cancer is merely one of the enemy’s scouting parties, out on patrol. It has no final power if you are a child of the resurrection, so you can look it in the eye.

5. You will waste your cancer if you think that “beating” cancer means staying alive rather than cherishing Christ.
Satan’s and God’s designs in your cancer are not the same. Satan designs to destroy your love for Christ. God designs to deepen your love for Christ. Cancer does not win if you die. It wins if you fail to cherish Christ. God’s design is to wean you off the breast of the world and feast you on the sufficiency of Christ. It is meant to help you say and feel, “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” And to know that therefore, “To live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Philippians 3:8; 1:21).

DP: Cherishing Christ expresses the two core activities of faith: dire need and utter joy. Many psalms cry out in a ‘minor key’: we cherish our Savior by needing him to save us from real troubles, real sins, real sufferings, real anguish. Many psalms sing out in a ‘major key’: we cherish our Savior by delighting in him, loving him, thanking him for all his benefits to us, rejoicing that his salvation is the weightiest thing in the world and that he gets last say. And many psalms start out in one key and end up in the other. Cherishing Christ is not monochromatic; you live the whole spectrum of human experience with him. To ‘beat’ cancer is to live knowing how your Father has compassion on his beloved child, because he knows your frame, that you are but dust. Jesus Christ is the way, the truth, and the life. To live is to know him, whom to know is to love.

6. You will waste your cancer if you spend too much time reading about cancer and not enough time reading about God.
It is not wrong to know about cancer. Ignorance is not a virtue. But the lure to know more and more and the lack of zeal to know God more and more is symptomatic of unbelief. Cancer is meant to waken us to the reality of God. It is meant to put feeling and force behind the command, “Let us know; let us press on to know the Lord” (Hosea 6:3). It is meant to waken us to the truth of Daniel 11:32, “The people who know their God shall stand firm and take action.” It is meant to make unshakable, indestructible oak trees out of us: “His delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers” (Psalm 1:2). What a waste of cancer if we read day and night about cancer and not about God.

DP: What is so for your reading is also true for your conversations with others. Other people will often express their care and concern by inquiring about your health. That’s good, but the conversation easily gets stuck there. So tell them openly about your sickness, seeking their prayers and counsel, but then change the direction of the conversation by telling them what your God is doing to faithfully sustain you with 10,000 mercies. Robert Murray McCheyne wisely said, “For every one look at your sins, take ten looks at Christ.” He was countering our tendency to reverse that 10:1 ratio by brooding over our failings and forgetting the Lord of mercy. What McCheyne says about our sins we can also apply to our sufferings. For every one sentence you say to others about your cancer, say ten sentences about your God, and your hope, and what he is teaching you, and the small blessings of each day. For every hour you spend researching or discussing your cancer, spend 10 hours researching and discussing and serving your Lord. Relate all that you are learning about cancer back to him and his purposes, and you won’t become obsessed.

7. You will waste your cancer if you let it drive you into solitude instead of deepen your relationships with manifest affection.
When Epaphroditus brought the gifts to Paul sent by the Philippian church he became ill and almost died. Paul tells the Philippians, “He has been longing for you all and has been distressed because you heard that he was ill” (Philippians 2:26-27). What an amazing response! It does not say they were distressed that he was ill, but that he was distressed because they heard he was ill. That is the kind of heart God is aiming to create with cancer: a deeply affectionate, caring heart for people. Don’t waste your cancer by retreating into yourself.

DP: Our culture is terrified of facing death. It is obsessed with medicine. It idolizes youth, health and energy. It tries to hide any signs of weakness or imperfection. You will bring huge blessing to others by living openly, believingly and lovingly within your weaknesses. Paradoxically, moving out into relationships when you are hurting and weak will actually strengthen others. ‘One anothering’ is a two-way street of generous giving and grateful receiving. Your need gives others an opportunity to love. And since love is always God’s highest purpose in you, too, you will learn his finest and most joyous lessons as you find small ways to express concern for others even when you are most weak. A great, life-threatening weakness can prove amazingly freeing. Nothing is left for you to do except to be loved by God and others, and to love God and others.

8. You will waste your cancer if you grieve as those who have no hope.
Paul used this phrase in relation to those whose loved ones had died: “We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13). There is a grief at death. Even for the believer who dies, there is temporary loss—loss of body, and loss of loved ones here, and loss of earthly ministry. But the grief is different—it is permeated with hope. “We would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8). Don’t waste your cancer grieving as those who don’t have this hope.

DP: Show the world this different way of grieving. Paul said that he would have had “grief upon grief” if his friend Epaphroditus had died. He had been grieving, feeling the painful weight of his friend’s illness. He would have doubly grieved if his friend had died. But this loving, honest, God-oriented grief coexisted with “rejoice always” and “the peace of God that passes understanding” and “showing a genuine concern for your welfare.” How on earth can heartache coexist with love, joy, peace, and an indestructible sense of life purpose? In the inner logic of faith, this makes perfect sense. In fact, because you have hope, you may feel the sufferings of this life more keenly: grief upon grief. In contrast, the grieving that has no hope often chooses denial or escape or busyness because it can’t face reality without becoming distraught. In Christ, you know what’s at stake, and so you keenly feel the wrong of this fallen world. You don’t take pain and death for granted. You love what is good, and hate what is evil. After all, you follow in the image of “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.” But this Jesus chose his cross willingly “for the joy set before him.” He lived and died in hopes that all come true. His pain was not muted by denial or medication, nor was it tainted with despair, fear, or thrashing about for any straw of hope that might change his circumstances. Jesus’ final promises overflow with the gladness of solid hope amid sorrows: “My joy will be in you, and your joy will be made full. Your grief will be turned to joy. No one will take your joy away from you. Ask, and you will receive, so that your joy will be made full. These things I speak in the world, so that they may have my joy made full in themselves” (selection from John 15-17).

9. You will waste your cancer if you treat sin as casually as before.
Are your besetting sins as attractive as they were before you had cancer? If so you are wasting your cancer. Cancer is designed to destroy the appetite for sin. Pride, greed, lust, hatred, unforgiveness, impatience, laziness, procrastination—all these are the adversaries that cancer is meant to attack. Don’t just think of battling against cancer. Also think of battling with cancer. All these things are worse enemies than cancer. Don’t waste the power of cancer to crush these foes. Let the presence of eternity make the sins of time look as futile as they really are. “What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself?” (Luke 9:25).

DP: Suffering really is meant to wean you from sin and strengthen your faith. If you are God-less, then suffering magnifies sin. Will you become more bitter, despairing, addictive, fearful, frenzied, avoidant, sentimental, godless in how you go about life? Will you pretend it’s business as usual? Will you come to terms with death, on your terms? But if you are God’s, then suffering in Christ’s hands will change you, always slowly, sometimes quickly. You come to terms with life and death on his terms. He will gentle you, purify you, cleanse you of vanities. He will make you need him and love him. He rearranges your priorities, so first things come first more often. He will walk with you. Of course you’ll fail at times, perhaps seized by irritability or brooding, escapism or fears. But he will always pick you up when you stumble. Your inner enemy - a moral cancer 10,000 times more deadly than your physical cancer - will be dying as you continue seeking and finding your Savior: “For your name’s sake, O Lord, pardon my iniquity, for it is very great. Who is the man who fears the Lord? He will instruct him in the way he should choose” (Psalm 25).

10. You will waste your cancer if you fail to use it as a means of witness to the truth and glory of Christ.
Christians are never anywhere by divine accident. There are reasons for why we wind up where we do. Consider what Jesus said about painful, unplanned circumstances: “They will lay their hands on you and persecute you, delivering you up to the synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors for my name’s sake. This will be your opportunity to bear witness” (Luke 21:12 -13). So it is with cancer. This will be an opportunity to bear witness. Christ is infinitely worthy. Here is a golden opportunity to show that he is worth more than life. Don’t waste it.

DP: Jesus is your life. He is the man before whom every knee will bow. He has defeated death once for all. He will finish what he has begun. Let your light so shine as you live in him, by him, through him, for him. One of the church’s ancient hymns puts it this way:
Christ be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before me, Christ beside me, Christ to win me, Christ to comfort and restore me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ in quiet, Christ in danger, Christ in hearts of all that love me, Christ in mouth of friend and stranger(from “I bind unto myself the name”).
In your cancer, you will need your brothers and sisters to witness to the truth and glory of Christ, to walk with you, to live out their faith beside you, to love you. And you can do same with them and with all others, becoming the heart that loves with the love of Christ, the mouth filled with hope to both friends and strangers.
Remember you are not left alone. You will have the help you need. “My God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19).
Pastor John

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So much to say!

What is my problem? Why can't I blog regularly? I guess it's just not my thing. I want to write and share everything, but then days pass and I cannot make myself sit down at the computer to write. I'll talk to anyone all day long - family, friends, strangers. I sometimes feel like I can say things to people that I wouldn't write down. Does anyone else ever feel like that?

Anyway - I'm writing now. It's a chilly, rainy day in Lake Forest. I'm at the public library because my new computer hasn't been working properly. P.J. plans to return it tomorrow and talk computer talk directly with the sales people and get me something else. He shouldn't have sent me on my own to buy a computer since I really don't have a good idea of how they work, etc. Our 8-year-old daughter seems to know more than I do about computers. Scary.

Back to writing ... I'm just getting warmed up. I promised before I had some observations to share. I've been writing them in a pretty notebook my friend Angela gave me (the old pen and paper technology never fails!). Here goes:

• Since I began chemotherapy, I've been waiting to lose all my hair. I've been dreading it and trying to deal with my feelings about it. It seriously began happening after my second round of chemo - approx. 30 days from my first round of chemo. I thought I was ready. I had already cut 10 inches off my hair and given it to Locks of Love. My dear book club friends brought photos of their worst haircuts to my salon and had them waiting at my stylist's station with some sweet treats. That went well. Then I started collecting hats and scarves. Maureen went shopping with me and we laughed so hard we were in tears - especially when she tried on a "do rag" that was already sewn with elastic to slip onto your head. That went well, too. Then my friend Susanne brought me a beautiful wig made of human hair, lovingly highlighted and very similar to mine. It was Mary Kay's custom wig that she only wore once during her battle with breast cancer. I have not brought myself to ever try it on. It did look good on Susanne, though. One night at dinner at Mary Ellen's, she asked if she pulled my hair, would a handful come out. I gave in and let her try and it didn't come out. Then the next day came and I actually lost major handfuls of hair, the tears finally came, too. I saved my hair from going down the shower drain and kept collecting it for days. Once it is no longer on your head, it doesn't feel like real hair. P.J. and Georgia thought my hair collection was disgusting so I finally tossed it when I realized how silly it was to keep. I haven't cried about my hair since then. Even though I now wear scarves and hats, I almost always show my friends and family my real head underneath. My doctors and nurses are astonished that I even have the hair that's left. I think it's just the prenatal vitamins at work.
• When your hair goes, why do the grays stubbornly hang on? How unfair is that?!?
• One of my morning rituals is to inspect my pillow for lost hair and to use a sticky lent roller to clean it up.
• Also on the subject of my hair, I was embarrassed on July 15 when at the intersection in front of Miramar in Highwood when my hat blew off. Cars were stopped at all four places and I had to chase my hat in front of all those drivers. Who knows what they were thinking - big pregnant lady with crazy thinning hair scrambling around amongst the cars. Lovely.
• When I have chemo or my weekly blood draws, I almost always see the beige lady. Consistently, I am the youngest patient at my oncologist's office and most are in their 60's-80's. There is one patient, who my heart goes out to, who is colorless ... her skin is transluscent, she is bald, eyelashless and eyebrowless, extremely thin and always wears beige clothes, shoes and ball cap that even washes her out more. We are never close enough to speak and the scene in the chemo room is of about 18 chairs with a nurses station in the middle. The patients interact with the staff but generally not with each other. Everyone keeps to themself during their treatments and is respectful of each other as many recline in the chairs and cover up with blankets. Of course, I can't do that. I have to much to on my "to do list" so I try to bring a mini project to complete, like a photo album or notes to write. The poor beige lady is an extreme case of the type of patients there - but she makes me feel sad. I want to give her a hot pink top to wear and some coral lipstick to brighten her up. I think she feels as badly on the inside as she appears to feel on the outside. Bless her heart.
• I keep waiting to feel as bad as the beige lady or as others who have been through this before. I don't. Naturally, I have my moments of pure exhaustion - I am afterall 27 weeks pregnant. Overall, I feel great! I am the happiest I have been in a years! I have a new lease on life and my prognosis is promising. I am one of the lucky ones and I thank God every day for that.
• The other day, I looked at my chart at Maternal Fetal Medicine. The summary of my condition (other than being pregnant) was "elderly with breast cancer." What?! Since when was 40 considered elderly?!? You would have thought I was that sixty-something year-old woman who had IVF and carried twins. Right. Elderly. How about classifying me as "35+" or something less insulting?
• Last Friday, the Beaupre's brought dinner over while they were visiting from Atlanta. About an hour into their visit and long after P.J. had given them the tour of our remodeled house, I mentioned something about the baby coming in October. April and Paul were shocked. They had no idea I was pregnant even though I'm clearly showing and had seen the baby's room filled with the crib and all kinds of baby things. They were so polite not to say anything about my appearance and just thought I was bloated from the treatments. I loved being able to share with them our good news in person.

I ran into my wonderful oncologist and his wife at the Lake Forest Day carnival on Family Night (Tuesday). There were thousands of people there and the crowds were so dense. It was fun to see him outside the office - usually P.J. runs into him out and about. Anyway - Dr. Tsarwhas immediately told me I needed to go home. I obeyed and happily left Georgia under P.J.'s watchful eye. The next day, I took Georgia and friend Kirsten to the LF Day Parade to ride on the Lake Forest Country Day School float and ended up walking with them the entire parade route. Not my plan, it just happened. The last thing I thought I wanted to do was parade through downtown - but I did and it was fine. We spent the afternoon at the carnival with many school friends and moms. It was such joy to watch the children run around having the time of their lives!

Tomorrow, Georgia's favorite 2nd grade teachers, Ms. Huetteman and Ms. Holland, are joining us for a special lunch at GoGo's house. To say that Georgia is excited is an understatement. These teachers have been very special to our family, even more so since all this cancer stuff began. We are grateful for their continued friendship and support.

I think the rain has stopped now, so I'm going to head home. It was actually fun writing today. Thanks for being patient with my ramblings. I will try to write more often. Until next time, take good care!

Love,

Jana

Catching up!

Sorry for my silence. Time is flying and I can't believe that I haven't blogged since June. I apologize for not sharing my recent "journey" with you. I really have no excuse, especially since I bought a new laptop a few days ago. All I can say is I've just been busy.

I'm trying to make the most of my summer between my chemo and doctors' appointments. I'm currently 25 weeks pregnant and will have my fourth round of chemo next Monday. I feel great and am resting when I need to, despite what P.J. says. We have enjoyed special houseguests (Maureen, Angie and Sam), visits to the area farmers' markets, trips to Lake Forest beach, cooking out in our new backyard, dinners out with friends and preparing for baby.

On the subject of the baby, we are overjoyed and are still in shock that this is actually happening! In our wildest dreams, we could not imagine this scenerio, nor could my doctors. I was diagnosed with cancer on February 20 and found out I was pregnant on March 6. I was literally a week away from beginning chemo. As P.J. described in an earlier email, chemo would kill the fetus if taken during the first trimester. Since ending my pregnancy wasn't an option for me, we had to come up with an alternate plan. For quite a while, I didn't believe that this could all work out; however, it is and we will have a baby boy in October and I will be cancer-free next spring! The Lord works in mysterious ways!

My doctors recommended that I not travel this summer because of my "depressed" immune system and an increased risk to catching H1N1 (swine flu) or something else nasty. They said the only way I could fly was if I wore a face mask and a compression sleeve on my right arm (to avoid developing lymphadema resulting from having my lymph nodes removed). Well - I decided that I would attract too much attention to myself between those precautionary measures coupled with my pregnant belly and my scarfed head. I could just imagine what people would be thinking about me - wondering what my deal is. Anyway, I have the luxury of staying home and knowing that everyone will come to see me when they can.

Georgia is down south right now for a 16-day visit with my family. She is having a ball with her younger cousins and our friends. The biggest occasion that I have had to miss was the birth of my niece Julia on June 23 in Griffin, Georgia. Julia is my sister Rebecca's second child and little sister to Logan who is almost three-years-old. Georgia is getting lots of practice with Julia on how to care for a newborn and to be a helpful big sister. Georgia has been busy seeing my great aunt Margaret and Uncle Jack and visited the World of Coke Museum in Atlanta; hanging out with Wendy and kids visiting from Switzerland; spent two nights with Maureen and daughters; is currently spending a week in Blue Ridge at "Nana Camp" that includes a horseback riding day camp and had last weekend with all the cousin and lots of time on the lake; will go to Alabama this weekend to visit even more cousins. Georgia barely has time to talk with us and we are thrilled she's having such a good time. After this great experience away from home, Georgia is ready to go to Keystone Camp for two weeks next summer.

I have to go to bed now ... P.J. is nagging me. I promise I'll write again soon as I have some funny and interesting observations to share about my experiences. Thank you for keeping me and my family in your prayers.

xxoo

Jana

Which One is Jana? and other 4th Fun!

We had a great 4th of July weekend with friends and family. We started off July 3rd at OC for the family picnic and fireworks - and met this little interesting fellow - can you tell who is who?

Saturday the 4th brought the traditional (and always fun) Lake Bluff parade where Georgia rode/marched with her school's float.

The night ended with us and 10,000 of our closest friends being serenaded by the sound stylings of (wait for it) - The Village People. Yes that's right, 70's powerhouse and what I consider to be the very first "boy band" - the Village People in all their costumed glory.

They sounded great (they may have been lip-synching), but it was a little uncomfortable trying to explain to our daughter why the man dressed as an indian (excuse me, native american for you PCers) wasn't wearing any underwear and why his "fanny" (her word, not mine) was hanging out.

Don't really think there is any good explanation of assless chaps for an 8 year-old. She did have a great time learning to dance to YMCA though - hopefully she is not scarred for life.

Hope you all had a happy and safe 4th as well.

Best,

P.J.

You're What?!?!?!?!?!?!

This is going to be a long one.

Yes folks - the rumors are true. If you haven't heard yet (I think many of you have) - Jana is pregnant.

Believe me, we were more shocked than you are now.

Hopefully, I can answer some of the questions I know you will have:

She is 23 weeks tomorrow. She will deliver around weeks 34-36.

We found out about three weeks after she was diagnosed, when she literally was about to start chemo. Fortunately, one of the doctors we interviewed asked her about her cycle and then realized she was a bit late. We thought there was no way she was prego, but decided to take a pee test anyway. Well, that pee test turned into about 30 of them and here we are.

What to do now? We had no idea, and there is zero information out there for pregnant women dealing with cancer. Jana's OB was no help whatsoever either. The first words out of her mouth were "you need to terminate." Thankfully, Jana's response was "that's not going to happen, what can we do?" Her OB said she could/would not help us as she thought - incorrectly I should add - that the fetus can't survive the treatments and it would put Jana's life in danger. Suffice it to say, she is no longer Jana's OB.

As a side note, we have come to learn there are no numbers about the incidence of pregnant women with cancer. It really made us think about how many women might be out there as uninformed as we were and are actually listening to the first opinion they get and terminating their pregnancies. We can't stress enough the importance of getting 2nd, 3rd and even 4th opinions when dealing with issues like this.

(She did do two things right though, and I have to give credit where it is due: she suggested Jana get her annual mammogram starting at age 38, which probably saved her life; and she referred us to the high-risk maternity group at Evanston North Shore Hospital - a group of doctors who are as caring as they are brilliant.)

Fortunately, a close friend of ours - who is a breast cancer survivor - consulted with her doctor at MD Anderson in Houston. He told her that we needed to meet with one of the doctors there - Dr. Richard Theriault - who is one of, if not the, leading doctor in dealing with pregnant women with cancer.

Now you all know the reason we put our treatments on hold a bit to fly down there and meet with him.

He was a godsend and immediately put us at ease. He determined our course of action and called our oncologist to consult on the schedule of treatment.

We had to wait until after week 10 to have the surgery; and then wait until after the first trimester to begin chemo.

It all gets a bit sciencey here, so bear with me. You shouldn't do anything during weeks 6-10 because that is the biggest developmental leap for the baby. Once the first trimester has passed, the placenta has reached a stage where it is really in a position to help the fetus. In a nutshell, the chemo drugs do not penetrate the placenta. Unlike narcotics and alcohol (which are small molecule drugs), chemo drugs are large molecule and the placenta keeps them out.

Pretty cool stuff.

How has this affected Jana? Well, she looks fantastic - of course - but she is really tired. Still trying to rein her in - to no avail. But she is getting better at listening to her body and sleeping when needed.

Georgia is really excited about being a big sister and is already helping with potential names.

Hopefully, that will be enough for you to digest over the holiday weekend ;).

And I hope you all have a great 4th of July.

Best,

P.J.

No More Bad Hair Days

It's finally happening. The hair is falling out in droves. We were trying to have some fun with the whole thing - competitions every morning to see whose pillow had the most hair on it. When Jana started winning, the novelty began to wear off. When she tried to wash her hair and found a dead wombat in the shower, well, game over.

We are now on to hats and scarves. Jana has always been gorgeous, but who knew she'd look so good as a pirate?

Hair issues aside, Jana is doing great. She's feeling well and still has a lot of energy. It's a constant battle for me to get her to slow down and rest - but I'll take that over bed-ridden any day.

Thanks for all of the good thoughts and prayers - keep 'em coming.

P.J.

2nd Round of Chemo Down

Hello y'all. Sorry for the lack of blogging for the past few weeks. Someone complained to me recently that they hadn't received a blog entry for a long time. It's because I've been enjoying myself since I've been feeling really good. I've been super busy with several out-of-town guests, the last days of school, Georgia's birthday, getting her off to a good start at camp, our anniversary, spending time with my book club friends and others. Basically, I've been pretty much back to normal and it has felt GREAT!!!

For the next few days, I expect to be homebound while the chemo works its way through my system and I recover from the steroids. P.J. thinks I'm crazy the days I'm on steroids with my fanny pack Adriamycin infusion. During that time, I am hyper and can't stop myself from organizing the house, unpacking boxes, dragging out new projects, etc. I'll crash this weekend and spend a lot of time laying in bed reading and watching movies. P.J. will still have a "honey do" list to pick up my slack until my next burst of energy expected early next week.

What I've dreaded the most is finally happening. I AM LOSING MY HAIR! It's horrible. I thought I would be so bummed when I had 10 inches cut off - but surprisingly, I was relieved. I've enjoyed my new sassy haircut these past few weeks and the ease of care. Since last weekend, I have been shedding big time. This morning I had tons of hair on my pillow and my hair has continued to shed all over my clothes (and food) all day long. I guess I may have to shave it off pretty soon. My cute hairdresser has offered to come to my house and do that for me. At least I have a nice collection of cute scarves and hats now to wear. If you see a mysterious woman around Lake Forest wearing big sunglasses, earrings, hats and scarves - it's probably me.

All in all, I'm doing great. My good days far outnumber the bad ones. We are surrounded by loved ones who constantly go out of their way to make sure we have lots of laughs, good meals, thoughtful gifts, help with Georgia and much more. We are extremely grateful for all the support we have. This has been a invaluable experience. One we never would have asked for but was clearly part of God's plan for me/us.

Enjoy every day!

xxoo
Jana

Hair Today Gone Tomorrow

Crying in front of my daughter's entire school

It's official - I'm turning into a cry baby. I guess it was about time. I've barely cried since my diagnosis on February 20 - the entire week leading up to it, I cried nonstop through every test. Since then, I've been too tired or busy to cry or trying to be strong for someone else. Crying takes so much out of you. Oh, I've had some private pity parties - but not major public crying ... until yesterday.

My daughter's 2nd grade teacher, Kelly Huetteman, received the Yvonne Banks Caring Teacher Award yesterday. The entire student body (k-8) and faculty at Lake Forest Country Day School was gathered for the assembly. I already knew she was going to win it because my nomination cinched it for her. Other parents submitted nominations for her regarding Kelly's remarkable ability to connect with their child, but I felt compelled to write about what a difference she has made for my daughter, especially in recent months. So, I knew what was coming when the award was announced, but I couldn't stop what was coming out of me - big, fat tears!

Here is a portion of my nomination letter for Kelly Huetteman:

"Since the beginning of the school year, Kelly always made sure that all her students could come talk with her privately about anything. Kelly has especially made sure that Georgia knows that she can always talk with her about her fears and worries about my health. When I was diagnosed and didn't know how to tell Georgia, Kelly researched age-appropriate books suitable for her and even purchased them for us. Those books were extremely helpful when I couldn't come up with the words and was too emotional to tell my daughter that I had breast cancer and would have a mastectomy, chemotherapy and radiation. Georgia and I cuddled many days and nights and read these books over and over. "

"Kelly is already anticipating the challenges Georgia may face when I lose my hair from chemo, which coincides with the end of the school year. I know that I'm really anxious about that part of my treatment because then there is now denying to anyone that I have cancer. To help Georgia and remind her that she can always talk with her, Kelly is planning to take her one weekend to spend a special day together doing anything she wants."

"Dealing with all the emotions of cancer is extremely difficult, but having to care for your young child who is smart enough to ask the tough questions and want every detail makes it even harder. We could not make this cancer journey without Kelly. I consider her as much a part of my team of caregivers as I do my oncologists, surgeons, internist and other medical support staff. Kelly deserves to receive this award because she cares about not only the student's academic performance, but her whole being."

P.J. and I are eternally grateful to Kelly and all of Georgia's teachers (and school nurse) for helping her through this challenging time.

________________________________________________________________

Today is the day of our big haircuts. Will share my thoughts on that later. I'm off to take a nap now. I tossed and turned all night with dreams/nightmares of losing my hair. My cold is still lingering and the Benadryl is making me drowsy and my eyes are still swollen and puffy from yesterday. Maybe a rest will help me keep the tears in during my public haircut at the salon this afternoon.

xxoo
Jana