The Hershey Helds

Barely a day after my girlfriend's weekend, The Hershey Held family arrived.  My brother Lee, with his wife Kelly, and their two girls Madi and Alex, who are the same ages as Nolan and Colton flew in from Hershey, Pennsylvania to stay with us for a week. 

The cousins always have a good time together.  

Although we had a lot of demands on our time that last week in June, the Held family graciously allowed us to squeeze time in with them around all the busy-ness of life in the Westra World.

One of the traditions my brother and I started was doing a photoshoot with the kids each summer.  It started when Nolan and Madi were practically newborns that first summer, and I don't think we've missed a photoshoot of the kids any other summer.  

The girls are just a couple of months older than the boys- but for the first time, Nolan is the tallest.  

Ahhh- this is the look I am so used to these days... 

I loved spending time with my nieces.  They are engaging, sweet, thoughtful, and a pure joy to be around.  They came to the rink to watch the boys skate in hockey camp, then baseball to watch Colton. I taught them how to play Ruzzle on their Ipad and now we're all hooked. 

My mom, Mary Ann was thrilled to have her family around for the whole week.  She is more quiet these days, weaker overall.  Her balance is off and she relies on a walker to steady her gait.  But her spirit soared while they were here.  Color came back into her cheeks and strength returned to her voice.  It was a noticeable difference in her, and I hope the girls will someday know the impact they made on Grandma with their sweet selves.  

I'm so thankful to Lee and his family for making the effort to come and visit us.  I was more tired than usual and had to bow out early at times, but they were so understanding, and it boosts me so to have had that time with them.  

Yesterday I saw Dr. Panwalkar... and a male med student from UND.  I spent the first few minutes catching him up to speed with the fact I had stopped the Xeloda.   He was quietly absorbing what happened and then thinking through the next steps.

The med student sat quietly off to the side, taking it all in.  He looked reflective and thoughtful.  I could so relate.  When I was in graduate school, my own practicum experiences allowed me to follow a Psychiatrist for several months.  You never knew when you might be called on, for your opinion, or help in doing some of the basic questioning.

So when Dr. P asked the med student if he wanted to listen to my heart and lungs, he looked both surprised and nervous.  

And wanting to do my part, I added in "and we could have him try to find my lymph node Dr. P, if you'd like."  

Dr. P burst into laughter, and said, "yes of course, he can do that too."  

So nervously, the med student listened to my heart and lungs.  Then began examining my neck.  His hands are too quick and fairly rough.  I realize he is nervous when I see his hands shake.  He hesitates on the left side going over and over it, until I shake my head no.  

"Dr. P," I said, "we're 0-2 for med students finding my node."  

Again Dr. P laughs his hearty laugh while sitting back in his chair observing.

Med student then asks to feel under my arms.  He quickly realizes its not my left arm.  His fingers are shaking and quivering, but he presses on.  Its when he circles an area under my right arm a time or two that I subtly nod my head yes.  Dr. Panwalkar says, "its deeply recessed, and harder to detect."  

Then Dr. P comes over and feels for himself.  "Do you think it has grown?" he asks me.  "No," I respond. He deftly feels for himself and then says, "I agree, I don't think it has either."  

As Dr. P sits back down to type in his aftercare summary, I see the med student in quiet reflection again.  So I ask him, "Do you have any questions?"  

His answer wasn't what I anticipated.

He very thoughtfully shares with us, he is wondering if he would have found my lymph node had he not known it was there in the first place?

Dr. P., nods and quietly says, "third year students, maybe not, but just wait until you are a fourth year student."  

I quickly chime in- "hey you are the only one out of 3 now to have found the lymph node!  Good job."

He politely thanks me.  He thanks me again before we leave the exam room.  I am fairly certain he learned a lot in that hour with us.  

I arrived at 9 am yesterday morning.  After an hour with Dr. P, my half hour infusion rambles on for 2 1/2 hours.  Its clear there is a rush to get everyone in so they can shut down for the 4th of July.  I then sit waiting for my CT scan scheduled for 2:30 with the promise they'll squeeze me in earlier if they can.  At 2:00 I am finally called back and by 3 o'clock I am home.  

We'll use the Ct scan results of my chest as a baseline scan, and begin Tykerb, an oral targeted therapy, as soon as it arrives in the mail later this week.  

The side effects are very similar to the ones from Xeloda, minus the red feet, but add in a red rash.  

I make a mental checkmark.  My list of treatments slowly dwindle.  But my hope continues to soar.

Let the new adventure begin!  

Choosing

"The beach where life is different.  Time doesn't move hour to hour, but mood to moment. We live by the currents, plan by the tides, and follow the sun."  

As we wrote down and offered our prayer requests, I quietly reflected at Bible study on Wednesday morning, I hope it isn't too silly to ask for a little sunshine for this evenings photoshoot?  I mean, the list is filled with prayers for health, healing, hurting hearts, uncertain futures, etc.  And I sit and think- my lungs?  My brain?  The growing cancer?  All valid for prayer requests.  What should I choose? I sat in quiet thankfulness, and discovered what was truly on my heart and mind was nothing but a little sunshine. 

So many of my very favorite things in the world were lining up for me.  A trip to a friend's lake.  A photoshoot of my family, by our talented and creative friend and photographer, Ria.  And all of this during my favorite time of the year- near summer solstice where the sun going down uses the sky as its canvas and streaks it in breath taking colors.  Please, if it isn't too much to ask. Please.

But as we left for the lake, some dark clouds started forming in the distance.  We managed to drive ahead of them, but they loomed in the distance throughout the night.  I had no idea how they would play into our evening.  Rain?  Stormy weather?  More thunder and lightning? 

As we rounded the corner to the lake cabin, I felt my shoulders drop, my breathing become deeper, and my mind just stopped in its tracks.  The waters were calm. The trees and grass were vibrant green. The water, blue and the sky a mix of blue with some clouds.  The beach was pristine.  And the serenity of it all cocooned us in peace.

The Czichotzki Family has created a sanctuary at the lake and we were honored they so openly welcomed us in.  Thank you!  

The photoshoot was one of my all time favorites.  Now I am a bit spoiled in having a husband who is a professional photographer, but one of the things we rarely get, are photos of our entire family.  

And Ria's vision, is unparalleled in the photography business.  She is creative, passionate and so good at naturally capturing our family in all of our fun, silly, goofy and treasured moments.  

Aren't you just dying to see the pics?  Ahhhh... but they're part of something else.  And so, you, and I, will have to wait, until the larger picture is revealed sometime in the near future.  

Yes, seriously, pinch me.  It'll be worth it.  Just wait.  

But here is just a hint at what is to come...

My beautiful and talented friend Ria, who honored us, delighted us, captured us.  She loved on us through her lens, her tireless work, her vision.  We're so grateful.  So blessed.

Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.  ~Rabindranath Tagore 

Those clouds that I wondered about?  Just look at what they did...

And then with the sun going done and an early Thursday morning to get up for, we reluctantly left the lake.  But were treated to a virtual, visual feast as we left.  That changed and grew greater and more spectacular moment by moment.   

"You can shake the sand from your shoes, but it will never leave your soul."  

It doesn't matter how tired I am.  Or how dizzy I get at times.  My feet still turn red and are peeling.  And my lungs are... ugh... not feeling great and leaving me with a pesky cough.

I don't care.  I hardly take count.  How can I?  I am surrounded by such abundant grace and beauty- and I'm CHOOSING to honor the joy in it all.  To embrace it as much as I can.  

I asked for a little sunset "light," and ended up feeling like a slice of heaven burst through and transformed the sky.  Answered prayer. 

Anyone else want to "Choose" along with me?  

"when the years fall away..."

“We are friends for life. When we’re together the years fall away. Isn’t that what matters? To have someone who can remember with you? To have someone who remembers how far you’ve come?” 

― Judy Blume

166 years- or thereabouts- Elizabeth figured for us.  Our years of friendship- going back to around that first year in high school, just over 30 years ago.  The five Moorhead girls.  

Who became Spuds and teenagers, drivers and debaters, cheerleaders and punk rockers.  We bled orange and black, talked like "Valley Girls," totally, cheered loud and laughed louder.  We made memories... to last a lifetime.  

We went on to college, became lawyers and writers, moms and wives, crafters and bloggers, farmers and runners.  

We moved away, losing touch, but remembering often.

Till one plate of caramel rolls and a chance encounter and one day we were all back together again.

And who knew why?

Well life seemed to know why.

Because 3 of us would lose our beloved fathers within months of each other.  And 1 of us would get diagnosed with breast cancer while the other had a niece who developed a brain tumor... and the knowing matters.  Community matters.  166 years of The Moorhead Girls, matters.  More than one could ever truly express.

And perhaps, more than ever, we've come full circle to know each other full, all over again.  To embrace those times we were young, foolish, carefree, fun-loving and crazy. And to raise our glasses to the wise, accomplished, still- fun-loving and a just a tad bit crazy- women we've become.  

Here's to the Moorhead Girls!  May our bonds grow tighter, our laughter richer, and may our memories stretch out longer than any of us could ever have imagined. 

"... the distant mutter..."

“I can hear your whisper and distant mutter. I can smell your damp on the breeze and in the sky I see the halo of your violence. Storm I know you are coming.” 
― Robert Fanney

Its been a week of weathering storms. They come on so fast, out of nothingness it seems.  But the beauty in them I think, is that they rise up mightily and leave us awe-struck at the sheer magnitude of natural forces- while we surrender, and ride them out.  

Colton had baseball last night.  While we left the house with partly cloudy skies, the forecast was for an 80 percent chance of rain and thunderstorms.  

It was just two short years ago when Rick and the boys were fishing done at Grandpa Jim's lake.  The dark clouds hung in the air as they got the boat secured on the trailer up by the garage.  The boys went inside to be with Grandma Carole.

Superman said they saw a lightning bolt several miles off in the distance, and minutes the next bolt of lightning struck a tree merely 20 feet from where they stood.  The towering pine shattered all across the yard.  The roof and side of the garage by the tree scorched black.  All the electricity to the house was gone in a split second.  

Both Rick and his Dad made sure the garage was not about to burst into flames.  But both have said their ears were ringing so loud they couldn't hear anything for hours.  

Miracles happen every day.  The boys, while visibly shaken, were safe with Grandma and relieved when Jim and Rick entered the house.  

The phone call I received shook me to the core that night.  It was a mix of concern and pure gratefulness that it wasn't worse.  A week later, the garage at the lake and the chunks of tree still in the yard smelled scorched. Its a night we will never forget.  Rick and his Dad both lost significant hearing in their right ears. 

So last night, my boys were nervous.  Rick and I both went with Colton to reassure him we'd bring him home safely if and when the storms surfaced.

Barely half way through the first game, the dark clouds descended and the radar lit up with all colors of the rainbow.  

The games were called and we left the field as rain started to fall.

It was a stormy night.  The boys were shaken.  The dog was riled.  We were clearly not in control of any of it.

But we awoke to broken branches, dirt strewn about our flower beds, a crisp blue sky and the promise of another new day. 

It was our second storm of the week.

The first one arose just as suddenly.  Earlier this week, the bottom of my feet turned red.  Bright red.  They grew hot and looked almost sunburned.  Each day they grew more tender.  Then they started to crack around the heels. I was hobbling quite a bit by Wednesday.  

So I searched through my Xeloda education sheets.

And there it was, highlighted in yellow, call immediately.

So I placed a quick call to Dr. P's nurse who listened carefully and said she would be calling back.  

I was on my way to help Rick do a baseball photo shoot when she called back.

"You need to come in now," she said.  "Dr. P is out of the hospital until next Friday, but the nurse practitioner can see you."  

I've seen Lori before and really liked her.  

In a nutshell she recommended I stop the Xeloda.  Even though this leaves my cancer unchecked, my feet would likely only grow worse and at some point open sores/blisters would likely form.  Infection can set in quickly at that point "the storm" is in full effect.

So I will wait until Dr. P's return.  Knowing, I can call or be seen in the meantime if my breathing grows worse, or other lung met symptoms arise.  

So I'm riding the eddy and swirl of life's storms around me. Further evidence of how little we are actually in control. But somehow through grace, I'm left feeling buoyed and embraced- the shelter of His mercy firmly overhead, as the storms rage on.  

seeing with new eyes~

Liz Gilbert:

In the end, I’ve come to believe in something I call “The Physics of the Quest.” A force in nature governed by laws as real as the laws of gravity. The rule of Quest Physics goes something like this: If you’re brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting, which can be anything from your house to bitter, old resentments, and set out on a truth-seeking journey, either externally or internally, and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher and if you are prepared, most of all, to face and forgive some very difficult realities about yourself, then the truth will not be withheld from you.

- quotes from the movie : Eat Pray Love

I've having an up and down kind of existence this last week.  Some days I have bursts of energy and well-being.  I go for long walks with friends, sit out back in our new patio area.  Rick's dad, Jim, with a some help from our boys demolished our decrepit deck.  Its been freeing to simply walk right down into our yard and feel so close to the earth.  I am enjoying it immensely.

But other days, I awake with a dull, steady, throb in my head.  Dizziness swirls, light stings my eyes, I feel nauseous, weak.

Although Nolan had hockey all day Saturday, and the sun was shining, I couldn't get out of bed no matter how hard I tried.  I caved to lying very still and watching movies.  

I've read "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert, but had not seen the movie.

I was surprised by how her words hit me again in a fresh new way.  I could so relate to her journey.  And I loved the quote above when she said "regard everything as a clue... and accept everyone you meet... as a teacher."  

I have really been open to what comes, and the more I open my hands, open my heart, the more it seems, comes my way.   

I keep praying that I am worthy, for so much of it feels like abundance to me, and I am so incredibly grateful.  

As usual, I am behind in acknowledging some gifts and writing some thank you notes.  Here are just a few of the goodies that have arrived at our doorstep.

This beautiful prayer shawl came from my childhood Methodist Church.  Thank you Paula and all who thought of me, and pray for me- I have already wrapped myself tightly with it and treasure feeling surrounded by the Women of Grace.  

My friend Elizabeth has continually sent me gifts of light, hope, peace, strength.  Her latest treasure?  A membership to The Loft Literary Center, in Minneapolis, MN.  It allows for me to be amongst a community of writers, and I'm completely smitten with the whole idea and enormously wowed by the idea of it... thanks E!  

This beautiful Prayer Intention candle came from my friend Steph who is a breast cancer survivor and who has also prayed for me, offered support in numerous ways and introduced me to The Breast Friends support group that meets once a month.  The stick on the outside goes in the middle of the candle.  The wick is on the inside lip of the candle and spirals around once is lit to light the inner stick.  I think this makes such a great gift!  

I was so pleasantly caught off guard by Mother Joseph during my stay at the Monastery.  She gave me a crucifix to hold, knowing as a Lutheran we also believe in the trinity of The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit.  Somehow Mother Joseph sensed my need to lay down my burdens while I was there and reminded me that Jesus' suffering on the Cross was out of pure love for us all.  She also gave me a beautiful rosary and a booklet telling me how to pray the rosary if so inclined.  She also indicated I could simply touch each bead and say my own prayer of sorts.  Truly what I sense, is that Mother Joseph, and my friend Roxane, and I, love the same God.  Amen.

Flowers will instantly brighten my day no matter what.  To find these waiting on my doorstep after coming home from the Monastery was life-affirming.  Thank you Julie- Julie and her sweet daughter Thea always have their "Team Vicky bracelets" on.  My heart still swoons a bit when I see them- I fully feel how much so many people have continued to hang in there with me.  

I met with Dr. P last week. He went over the PET scan with me, showing me the lung tumors, and measuring them in front of me to see just how much they have grown.  He doesn't feel its been extremely significant and is comfortable with me continuing on with Xeloda for about 6 more weeks.  At that point we will scan again, and most likely then switch to a new chemo.  

I left feeling relieved in a way.  Better the devil you know- like Xeloda- then the devil you don't- like all the ones still out there waiting for me to try.  

Are you seeing anything with new eyes these days?  

Be still...

I had not a moment of hesitation when I was asked by my friend Roxane if I wanted to join her for a few days at the Carmelite Monastery again last weekend.  When I counted back the months, I realized it was last October the first time I visited.

It was a small feat to actually get packed and go.  I kept my eyes peeled for the signs as we drew near.  Then suddenly we rounded the corner of the gravel road and we'd arrived. 

I brought a grocery box filled with food to donate to the Sisters as they subsist off of those very donations, along with the food they grow in a garden.  

I don't know what it is, how it is, why it is, but the moment I got out of the car my burdens started to ease.  I breathed fresh air deeply.  The wind was stiff, but not too cool.  Rain threatened in the distance and the clouds were abundant.

But the richness of the greens around?  Life affirming. Dripping with color, saturated with such intense green.  I said a hasty good bye to the boys and Rick and hurried in to find "my room."  The soft blue walls, with the antique white bedspread, the worn bible with the black rosary strung across it on the nightstand.  It feels like coming home.

Within moments of my arrival, the bell sounds in the distance and its lunch time.  The video below is from my first visit, but the sound is precisely the same.  Somehow, I'm in tune with the bell.  It quietly beckons for me to come and nourish my body.

Yet I was restless after dinner.  My head still swimming with the momentous treatments ahead of me and how they would affect me, and Superman, and the boys.

So I grabbed my camera and headed outdoors, and each click shifts my focus, away from ME and towards all that is right in front of me.  I completely lose myself in walking the grounds, snapping photos, getting caught in the drizzle of the rain.  

I am eyes, ears, breathe.  

Its quiet.  But its when I become completely still, I then suddenly become in tune with the non-quiet.  Because the birds are chirping.  And the wind is whipping through the trees rattling the branches and ruffling the leaves.  

Be still...

Psalms 46:10 "Be still and know that I am God;"

And then the squawking begins.

Its guinea hens!  And oh how they scold when I approach too closely.

Dare I say God has a sense of humor?

My stillness retreats with me inside.  

I look through my photos...

The more still I become, the more minute my focus becomes... the bigger my God feels.

The weekend unravels my mind.  Hushes my spirit.  Quiets the unrest.  

Roxane and I share our views on faith, and life and everything.  

Mother Joseph requests a visit and she is wise, humorous, warm, and so filled with light it radiates from her.  I feel bathed in peace and grace after our visit. 

She asks if I'll come back and visit again?  I so will, indeed, I will. 

We leave Sunday night.

I leave... ready... still... and knowing.  

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

I'm slowly recovering this week.  I tire easily and have had some bouts with nausea.  

But I've been completely overwhelmed with gratitude at just how well I've done overall.  I feel its nothing short of a miracle that I am still me.

I spent the whole weekend last week, listening to bells beckon me to eat, to pray, to sleep. How truly profound that closure came for me in a celebratory ringing of my own bell.  

surrounded by grace

“Humbly let go. Let go of trying to do, let go of trying to control, let go of my own way, let go of my own fears...

Let God blow His wind, His trials, oxygen for joy's fire. 

Leave the hand open and be. Be at peace. Bend the knee and be small and let God give what God chooses to give because He only gives love and whisper a surprised thanks...

This is the fuel for joy's flame. Fullness of joy is discovered only in the emptying of will.

The infamous bell I never thought I'd have the opportunity to ring.

Infusion today...

 And I can empty. I can empty because counting His graces has awakened me to how He cherishes me, holds me, passionately values me. I can empty because I am full of His love. I can trust.” 
― Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are

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