standing at the edge of grace

“Grace is the sweet moment you never expect but turns up to get you through a day, an appointment, a reality you never, ever dreamed for yourself.” 

― Kara Tippetts, The Hardest Peace: Expecting Grace in the Midst of Life's Hard

Some of my moments of Grace this past week...  Hard Grace... but still Grace.

For just over two weeks, I checked on Mama, the dove sitting on an egg in the flimsy nest of twigs and fluff, and stuff, in the tree in our back yard.  Every time, she was there.  She weathered the storms, the downpours of rain, the gusts of wind.  Through it all she remained hunkered down. 

Till that one day last week.  I looked.  And looked.  Up through the branches on my tiptoes, all I saw were twigs.  So I quietly slid a chair over and slowly raised myself up on the wiggly chair.  To my utter delight, there it was- her baby!  The top of its head was fuzzy.  The feathers short.  I had to thrust my camera over my head to get a somewhat clear photo.  

I've seen Mama come and go.  But the fledgling baby remained. Crosby ran in and around barking, and lounging underneath the branches, yet the doves just came and went as they pleased. The mourning "coos" were loud and abundant throughout this nesting phase.

The last time I looked, two heads rested side by side as I went to the front of the tree.  And two tails jutted out the back, side by side on the back of the tree.  It was the last time I saw them in the nest.  

Though I keep checking, as I've heard the doves mate for a lifetime, and often have several sets of babies throughout a season. 

In the meantime, we were back at the hockey arena full time.  It was too hard to capture the below in a decent photo- but I wanted to remember this moment of Grace, and gift, despite how the photo looked.  

Nolan, and one other of his hockey team mates, were invited to attend the 2015 Fargo Force Tryout Camp.  It was such an honor to be asked to go.  Technically, he is too young to even make the team.  It was such an irony to see young men, with birth years of 1995- 1999, as the ones old enough to garner a spot on this USHL team in Fargo for next year, listed on the roster.  Then we see the '00.  And right next to that, is our son Nolan.  Too young to make the team, but wide-eyed and hungry enough, and brave enough, to say he'd love the chance just to try. 

The speed of the skating is fast.  The style is physical and gritty.  The skill is awe-inspiring. You have to be quick with your decisions, and even quicker in the execution of moving that puck.  

But each game, Nolan, got a little more confident.  A bit more used to the style.  He started getting shots on net.  And finally- he tipped a puck in for a goal!  

Coach Eades said Nolan could play with his son, Eddie, on the green team.  Love that "Sioux," color matched up with that team.

There are all kinds of ways to dry your smelly and wet  hockey gear.  Love the jersey looking at home as the license plate.

Nolan played the last game Saturday afternoon, and then we thought we were done.  So we packed up and headed out to eat.  But in the middle of our dinner, his phone rang.  His face broke into a smile.  It was coach.  Would Nolan like to play in the "Young Guns" game?

This time they were divided into Blue and White teams.  Coach Eades took the bench.  It felt like a glimpse of what going to a Fargo Force game next year, will look like.

Nolan rose to the occasion.  He skated well and played more physically.  Even though the puck hit the post, it bounced in, before it came out and technically, everyone knew Nolan had scored a goal.  

We left that night with a small taste of what Nolan's next few years of hockey may be like.  His eyes are open, wide, with the hard work it will take to get himself up to the next level of competition.  But he remains determined.  Filled with hope.  And ready to embrace all the ups and downs along the roller coaster ride of living the hockey life.

When you think of grace, this isn't what you'd normally think of, is it?  This is my Dad's old pick up.  With 4 flat tires, peeling paint, and seedlings growing out of the dirt in the bed of the truck.  We were thrilled when we discovered that Make-A-Wish could garner $500.00 for the donation of our truck to them.  They would even come and get it for us.

So we watched the young man pull in with his truck and hauler.  He placed a charger on the battery under the hood and we sat chit-chatting a bit.  We chuckled at the thought of it starting.  No way.  We'd tried so many times, just wanting to move it.  It wasn't going to budge for us.  We were convinced the young man would have to winch it the whole way.

But isn't life funny?  Aren't the tiniest things often prone to offering the biggest surprises?  

The young man insisted we try to start it. 

We had to go in search of Dad's keys.  We watched as the young man inserted the old key into the steering column, and turned it over.  It chugged, and sputtered, but the boy sat turning the key, and low and behold... it sprung to life and started! 

I mean- it started and ran so smoothly- we all just sat chuckling, and shaking our heads.  And all I could feel was my Dad.  Smiling.  And saying "That truck was the best truck I ever had. It was never much to look at, but that engine just kept going and going."  That truck sat outside for two Minnesota winters, with no protection from anything- and started like a charm.  

As I've watched and listened, I've discovered Grace can even come knocking on your door.  It was nearing a time when I settle in for the night.  Fatigue has been gnawing at me and I am resting in bed early evening.  But the knock on the door was insistent.  Who could it be?

A Cash Wise Grocery Store, delivery driver, asking if I was Vicky Westra, by chance?  My eyes wide in wonder, I assured him I was and he smiled and said okay- lets get this thing started.

Oh my... not only did it start... it went on and on.

Crate after crate was opened, as bag after bag of groceries traveled into my kitchen.  Bunches of fresh fruit.  Bags of chicken breasts.  Bags of lunch meat for sandwiches.  Cheeses of every kind.  Eggs, potatoes, and pizzas... etc.  A turkey even, with stuffing!  

The bags on the floor were just a small part.  The table and counters were all filled as well.  I lost count at 24 bags of groceries!!

And the driver?  Said it was all anonymously ordered and paid for.  He couldn't give me a clue!  He said he was a supervisor for the store and wanted to personally come out and deliver these to me.  He also stated this has happened only a couple of times over the years.  You could tell he was as touched, as I was.  We have eaten so well, because of this!  Colton has cooked away.  And Nolan was well fed for all of his hockey games.  We're so touched and humbled by this generous and thoughtful act.  

It seems as though, God was preparing us for all that was to come.  Our "nest" of comfort was being prepared for the newest journey we are about to embark upon.

We got right down to business at my appointment with Dr. Panwalkar on Tuesday.  

I think the word we could use to describe my test results would be "stinky."  Or some variation of that.  As we went frame by frame through my scan, slowly the yellow spots, indicating active cancer, began to appear.  Some of the ones in my lungs have been there for a long time.  But alas, there were quite a few new ones as well.  

And then he kept scrolling.

And there's my colon- shining bright yellow in a huge blob.  And right next to that?  Another huge blob on my uterus.  Oh and then- a spot in my pelvis... and then? Yeah, it just keeps going.

But, I was about done.   Why do I need to know any more?  

Stinky.  Way too yucky to even know how to respond.

My mind just thrusts itself forward and wants to know what we're going to do?

Dr. Panwalkar is quietly searching my face.  

"I think we should consider chemo again," he says, hesitatingly.

And my face blanches, as I recoil.

"No?" He quickly questions.

"Maybe we can try another estrogen blocker?  A different one?"

But I tell him.  Even though what my face tells him is true.  As much as I don't want to do chemo- I don't think I have any other choice but to do chemo.

To go aggressive.

Aggressive chemo is indeed what I need to do.

Which one does he think?

"Taxotere."

And somehow, as I sit nodding, I know there is more.

"And?" I say.

He smiles and says...

"Perjeta, and of course Herceptin."  

"You will lose your hair.  Your white cell counts will go low.  You will have to come in the moment you have a slight fever.  Your sense of taste will be off.  Diarrhea is often part of it.  You will have to do steroids- and watch for rashes..."  His voice trails off...

I'm sitting and nodding and knowing.

And somehow, despite how yucky this all is... I don't want cancer to steal my joy.

He is my tower of Grace I lean on.  Will he do another picture with me?  And when I tease about how "famous" he is, he shakes his head and laughs his hearty laugh.  And we smile.  

Because living well?  That is what beats cancer.  

Living our moments well, with as much Grace as we can.

We may be needing some help with the boys, and other things, but as we slowly figure out this new path, your ever faithful prayers for guidance and clarity and strength are so appreciated.  

~much love to you all~

Chemo day

Every time I sit down to write a bit, it seems, I am jumping up to take care of something else.  After the weather went all kinds of crazy cold on us, threatening to bring winter ahead of fall, warmer temps arrived again today.  

So I've been sneaking outside with the dog, trying to figure out how to preserve a little bit of the warmth and brightness of the sun to feast on in the darkest corners of winter. 

My mom had a rough week last week.  Nolan and I surprised her with a visit early in the week, and all seemed well.  The week before we took her to the dentist to have a tooth pulled, but she seemed to be healing well and had no discomfort in her mouth.  But then, a long series of events occurred, that ultimately led to a fall the other day.  While physically she assured us she was fine, it was her raw emotions that stayed with me.  That nagging voice kept at me, no matter the assurances she gave.

Friday night I called to tell mom, that Rick was home, and we were coming to visit.  But she didn't answer.  For hours upon hours, she didn't answer her phone.  

By 10 pm,  long after we would usually have heard from her, I was starting to rapidly grow concerned.

What if she had fallen again?  What if she went for a walk outside and lost her bearings?  What if….?  

Rick, long exhausted from his 18 hour drive back from Idaho, was a trooper and got on the phone with Bethany Towers.   Could they please locate her?  

Our concern grew as they failed to establish her whereabouts.  Where could she be?  They kept saying, "oh she is probably down in the community room,  or in the dining room, etc., we could have her call when she comes back?"

Our last call to the switchboard and Rick, firmly, but politely refused to get off the phone until they found her.  As I dressed, getting ready to get in the car, he carefully explained our concern with her fall, and that her not answering her phone was not typical.  

Finally, they dispatched several people to set off on a search for her.  

Then the call came- she had been found!

She was in the room across from hers, gaining some emotional support from her friend.  The two women had lost track of time.  

Saturday we had a busy day with hockey, a birthday party, a bon fire with friends.  But I called several times to talk with mom.  Then mom tried calling us, and I answered as she hung up.  When I dialed her back, the phone was busy for a long time.  It was after we got home from the bonfire I called her again.

  It was then that she told us she had been sent to the Emergency Room because of her fall, and when I didn't answer, her sister came and took her. She has some bruised ribs and pain.  But, no fractures fortunately. 

I have so many questions?  Why two days later?  Why not the day of her fall?  What protocol for falls do I not know?  

We've had such excellent care at Bethany.  What just happened this past week?  

Rick and I will be going in to talk with the director.  

We went and spent a long time with her yesterday.  Her spirits are lifting, but she remains cautious and worries about the course of events.  

But first, I have Dr. Panwalkar this morning where we will discuss my PET scan results, then I will have chemo.  

~All shall be well~

When the stars line up...

“Sometimes, the stars line up, the gods smile, and love gets a fighting chance. Just a chance. That's all it can really hope for. No guarantees, no certainties” ― Tess Gerritsen

I've traveled light years in what I've learned over the past 5 years of blogging. Not just in the kosher and technical ways to blog, but truly in what its like to live in community with others- especially if its a blog community.

I didn't know it would take a trip to Nashville for the line to be drawn through so many of my "dots," that seem to have been scattered since the beginning of my time blogging. 

I didn't plan to go to Nashville, to meet any blog friends.  It wasn't on the agenda, and the thought didn't occur to me simply because I wasn't ever certain I could even go on the trip.  The main reason of the trip was for Rick to shoot hockey photos of our friend Matt Cullen, for his charity and for our local newspaper.  Period.

Me, getting cleared to go, was last minute.

And I was worried a bit.  How well would I travel?  What would happen when the stomach cramps and need to be steps from a bathroom kicked in?  How would I deal with the fatigue that plagues me often?  

This is where my word "Embrace," usually comes into play.

I listen to my spirit, lean in and decide to just go.  I try to let my human brain and its need to feel in control, surrender to what I could never possibly conceive.  To be guided by faith and trust in something, someone,  bigger than I. 

So I casually reached out to my blog friend, Melissa, knowing she doesn't live far from Nashville.

Melissa is a beautiful soul, a mom to two adorable kiddos, Camden and Rory, a wife to Brian, and a cancer sista, living with ovarian cancer, diagnosed within weeks of myself.

It was her sister, Becky, who wrote a beautiful comment on my blog, having battled breast cancer herself, who introduced Melissa and I.

And just look what happened?  We met, in person, face to face.  I heard her voice for the first time.  I hugged her, as I longed to do so often over the course of the last 2 1/2 years. She is every bit as real and beautiful and funny in person (oh my goodness do I find her humor refreshing) as she looks and sounds on her blog. 

We've prayed for each other, shed tears for each other, and written the words that only the other one will fully understand at times. 

She so eloquently wrote about our time together in her post entitled connections.

Our morning at the Thistle Stop Cafe flew by.  I felt as though I was meeting a lifelong friend for a long overdue lunch.  I clearly didn't see this "dot," coming.

So who could have possibly thought, in the meantime, another blog friend was preparing to invite us to come and see her- one dot leading to the next... leading too...

In the meantime, Rick was preparing for the home opening game where the Nashville Predators would take on none other- than Matt Cullen's former NHL hockey team- The Minnesota Wild.  

Talk about a bittersweet night.  Just who would come out victorious on this inaugural home game? 

A party on the plaza was complete with live music and a "red carpet" of sorts for the players to walk upon arriving at the arena.

I have to say, by comparison to the "State of hockey" in Minnesota, the fans were a bit more relaxed and quiet, something I was unaccustomed to.

Ronette and I with our "Cullen" jerseys.  I was the lucky recipient of a generous gift of Matt's very first Predators jersey this summer and so proud to wear it the first night in support of Matt.

The Wild warming up.

I took more photos and videos with my phone that night and they are all lost now.  The uber cool one I lost?  The one of Vince Gill singing and playing music in between periods of the game. 

But Rick got this awesome shot of Vince's daughter, singing the national anthem before the game, and turned it into this painted photo rendition. More of Rick's photos can be seen at his photograhpy facebook page RWP. Would love for you to stop by and like his page!! 

Here is another one of Rick's photos of Matt with the puck.  Matt went on to get an assist and the Predators would win the game 3-2!  

Two of the Cullen boys, clearly still in transition as well.  While one cheered every time the Preds would score, the other cheered equally as loud when the Wild would score.  Somehow, I knew exactly how they were both feeling.

I'm in the midst of finishing the story about the "dots and stars" aligning for me on this trip and will post it soon. It resonated so deeply with me and I am hopeful so many of you will get something out of it too.

 I'm also working on my speech which is suddenly taking place next week!  

In the meantime my visit with Dr. Panwalkar went well on Tuesday.  

He was relaxed and rather humorous and that hearty laugh always does my soul well.

I will begin radiation on Monday the 28th for 3 weeks.  

I will also at that time, be taking a break from Tykerb.  I may get a few days of feeling more like myself again.  Amazing the things I now find myself looking forward too.

Love came down... Christmas Eve...

If I'm being honest, going to infusion Christmas Eve morning hasn't left me feeling very Christmas-y. And even though I am surrendered to it- it is what it is-I haven't quite figured out how to honor the spirit of Christmas with chemo, infusion, or cancer.  

I've also alluded to some of the changes coming our way.  We've carefully considered and weighed all of our options.  In order to continue to keep up with the high cost of treatment and our ongoing obligations, we have decided to move Rick's office to our home.  It was a difficult decision to make, but we are stepping forward in faith that eventually this will simplify our lives and reduce expenses.  We've also listed our van on Craigslist.  And Rick has sold some of his cameras and other photo gear.  

None of this is because we aren't able to manage just fine right now.  But we need to be realistic about the uncertain nature of the future and be as fiscally responsible as we can right now.  

Making these decisions has honestly been the toughest part- its been far easier to execute and move forward with the decisions behind us.  

But with all of these serious decisions chasing us down- how do we capture the joy and wonder of the Christmas season?  Especially when I start off the day at infusion?

I think the answer trudged right through my front door in a series of blessings. While I was caught up in the frenzied loads of office equipment arriving daily and the stacks of clutter and mess shoved to the corners of our living room, the answers were there for me when I was ready to see.

I ordered this tealight holder online through a special offer from Dayspring.  Taking full advantage of the offer, I bought several, and delighted in giving some to friends.  Its sturdy, solid and heavy- a substantial piece, with an even more substantial message.   

The birth story of baby Jesus in Luke 2 1-20. 

I absent- mindedly forgot to order a Christmas wreath for us this year, but this was a welcome fill-in.  The fragrant branches and beautiful colors filled our house with Christmas cheer.  Thank you Stavenger family!  

It was superman who found this lying in the snow in our driveway.  It had been duct taped to something and the wind must have lifted it off.  Not only was it a beautiful card- but it had Christmas money and an anonymous note from a friend of our youngest sons.  Thank you- neighborhood angel- your gift gave me more than you could possibly know! 

I think the message in this "Clinging Cross," could not have been more timely.  Thank you to our angel  - Jennifer- my friend from far away.  

There have been platters of goodies, oodles of cards and a steady stream of abundance.  Thank you to everyone who took the time to deliver some Christmas cheer to our door! 

But it's remained true- I've been caught in the midst of chasing down the "perfect" Christmas.  With all of the tradition, the decorating, the baking, the magic-making I could muster- amongst the chaos of our life. 

And chemo was messing up my idea of perfect.  

But I kept being drawn back to my Star and its message- Love came down.

 I finally sat down and read Luke 2 1-20.  

I sat looking at the handmade card with 

Baby Jesus...

And I was reminded of the humble beginnings of the tiny babe.  Mary and Joseph would have perhaps preferred a room at the Inn, with a bed and a midwife.  

Plus, a cradle, rather than a cattle trough or manger for their newborn.  

I wonder how anxious they might have been.  Worried, frightened, alone perhaps.  

And yet...

They got a drummer boy, and 3 wise men.  They got a stable, and swaddling cloths for warmth and hay for softness maybe.

Some would say they were blessed.

And I wonder, how many of us forget about the blessings in the hay, when we find ourselves in the stable instead of the inn?  

Perfect does not exist in CHRISTmas.  

Christmas is about God's perfect love for us given through the birth of baby Jesus.

Wishing you Christmas Blessings!  

"...sweetest in the crushing places..."

"Joy is like wine — it can run sweetest in the crushing places. " Ann Voskamp

I've been concerned about how this week would transpire.  Its another arena of new for me.  With the stable nature of my disease throughout last year, we worked within some well developed boundaries, knowing what to expect.  Coming off of the trial, has shuffled me back into the regular system and I am trying to re-learn how to navigate.  

This is the radiation suite where the Novalis radiosurgery machine sits.  I had the targeted 1 time treatment to my brain in this suite last Wednesday.  On Monday I started treatment to the spot in my spine, in the same room. The first day took about 15 minutes or so.  But by yesterday I was out in under 10 minutes.  The photos are fuzzy, but I didn't want to tie up the machine too long so I snapped three quick shots before I had to have my treatment.

My counts were good enough for chemo this week!  So I had chemo first and then finished exactly at the time I needed to go for radiation.  I sat down and they took me right back.  So easy.

The machine moves around me and the table adjusts me when necessary.  I stare up at the ceiling and immerse myself in the nature photo. 

My legs go over the blue cushion, and my head rests up in the mold at the top of the table.  Then I just lay there as the machine moves around me shooting radiation to the targeted spot in my spine.  

3 treatments down, 7 to go.  

*********************************************************************

She has been my best friend since high school.  Its just over 30 years now that we've sustained a friendship that has seen us through everything from boys, to cars, to college, then law school for her, grad school for me, to weddings, and then the birth of our kids.  We've ridden the high times together and forged through the tough times together.  We haven't lived in close proximity for years, but we've always stayed in touch.  

As I've battled through breast cancer, my friend, Kristi, has suffered through pneumonia on 3 different occasions this past year, including one lengthy hospitalization.  I haven't seen her in almost a year.  But we chat often and know the time will come when we will get to hang out together again soon.

So I was so surprised to have this arrive on my doorstep Sunday night.  There are so many details in it, its hard to capture them all.  But this beautiful quilt was hand made by my talented friend, Kristi!   

She even stitched "hope" into the top-stitching all around the quilt.

She personalized this square for me on the back.  

I even found us in the "best friend" phrase scattered throughout the quilt.

She wrote to tell me she hoped I felt  "hope and hugs."  But what I felt most of all, is all the love coming through.  I know this took hours upon hours of her precious time, and tons of talent and knowledge in piecing and quilting and stitching it all together. 

Its gorgeous!

Its left me feeling like the luckiest "best friend"out there.  

The end and the beginning

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished.That will be the beginning.”
― Louis L'Amour

We were crazy late getting out the door today and I don't know I if ever got my head completely on straight.   It was just a glimpse of how the day was going to go.  So many things coming at me all at once my head was swimming before I even sat down.  So I sat with my pager waiting for my turn at the lab and trying to collect myself. When they finally paged me, they took me back to a station with 6 tubes for blood and one pregnancy test waiting.  The study wants its final samples from me as a parting gift.  But it meant I got to see Kathy, my research nurse again and hug her, so it was a good trade off.   It may be awhile, but I am sure our paths will cross again.  She also graciously offered to take calls with questions from me, so in a way I don't really feel I've lost her completely.

Dr. Panwalkar was his usual- in a good mood but ready to get down to business.  He carefully showed me my scans.  In my lungs, instead of just 1 small spot, I now have about 4 spots, but they are still quite small which is good.  My lymph nodes under my arm have also grown a bit.  And the spot in my brain, grew just a smidge.  But since I am off the study, and the lymph nodes under my arm are probably impinging on a nerve causing pain in my arm, we are going to zap those pesky buggers away! In fact we are going to zap my brain, my back and my lymph nodes with some targeted radiation.  Is it crazy that I feel a little relieved/excited that we may just get rid of them altogether?

So I am losing my research team, and gaining a radiation team.  In fact, one of the nurses that works in radiation is another hockey mom/friend, and the radiation scheduler, is a dear high school friend!  Could I be in better hands?  Seriously?  While all three doctors come highly recommended, my sweet friends chose one to work with me, called him about me already, and have me all lined up to see him first thing Monday morning.

But before we even get radiation underway, I started a new chemo today named Eribulin.  I will have chemo once a week for two weeks, then have a week off.  Its a newer drug thats been on the market for a couple of years, but has been known to shrink if not melt lung mets away.  I will also do my "Vitamin H" or Herceptin, once every three weeks.

Of course it comes with a bit of a drawback.  Initially Dr. Panwalkar mentioned trying Xeloda, which is a pill you take every day, and it has few side effects.  But its several thousand dollars a month, and my insurance won't cover it since its a pill.  The insurance, will however, cover infused drugs.

So I decided, I will go with the insurance covered Eribulin, and be willing to lose my hair instead.  I am neither happy, nor sad about the whole thing.  It just is.  It happens differently for everyone, so I have no idea how much or how little hair will come out, or when.

Dr. Panwalkar did ask me why I didn't call him back.  I told him I just trusted him and have felt such calm and peace knowing I could leave it in his hands, and in HIS hands.  All week last week, my prayers were pretty simplistic- I just needed God to show up.  And I can't help but feel, in the beauty of how all the details came together, he was behind all of it.

The rest of the day has been a blur.  I had people in and out of my tiny chemo hole, oops, I mean room, all day long.  The remodeling being done is creating makeshift areas for infusion and crowded waiting areas, and chaotic hallways, but we are all just doing the best we can.  In many ways, whether its cancer, or an upheaval in a work situation, or a divorce, or some other burden being carried, we all long for the same thing... for the hope of something better on the horizon.

I continue to be inundated with texts and emails and I haven't been able to respond to them at all!   Please know they comfort me, support me, and continue to lift me up and keep me going.  Love to you all...