Tag Archives: diagnosis

Be Chasing Pain (again)

This morning, we are working hard at getting the pain under control. Mom is on a post surgery pump where every 5 minutes she has to push a pump to get the meds. We are praying for some breakthrough.

The surgery went well, they were able to bypass the current bowel obstruction. The cancer mass is quite large.

I will try to write more later as I process the information from the surgeon. I didn’t want to leave you hanging. You are holding us up in prayer. You are helping us walk, stay focused on mom/dad/ and keeping me upright.

“Though we walk through the valley, we have no fear!”. My summary of Psalm 23.

Mom has been so thirsty the last few days. She is not able to drink water yet, but she is enjoying some ice chips.


Mom and dad hanging together.

My sister has sent a Christmas present each day til Christmas. These are the highlights of mom’s day.

Here is today’s gift (Mom even got up the energy to say cheese for the photo!):

She is such a strong, thoughtful, determined woman! Love you Mama!

Be In the Light In The Darkness

On Sunday night, I drove in tears to the hospital with the full moon as my guide. Even though I wanted desperately to see how my mom was doing, I stopped by the side of the road to admire the beautiful full moon.


Today, I had the extreme privilege of driving mom home from the hospital in the beautiful full sun.


It was an excruciating week, but one where God’s light was so evident.
– we ended up back on the Women’s and Children’s hospital ward. Mom knew all the nurses but one.
– Dr. Daniels is back on mom’s case as her gynocologist. She hasn’t gone on maternity leave yet so we are grateful.
– Mom finally got her diagnosis yesterday. It is stage 3 ovarian.
– my sister, M, was here for a visit on the weekend and was instrumental in getting mom to the hospital. She is a force! She was able to stay until late Monday night.
– Mom had a blood transfusion while she was in the hospital and is getting stronger.
– Mom’s pain is finally under control
– Mom does not have an infection from the surgery
– Mom is eating

As I reflect on these past four days, I am amazed at how I have seen God working. On Sunday morning, I felt God gave me a new word to explore. Can you guess the word? Light! We also started a new bedtime prayer (Genesis1:16)with the boys: God made two great lights–the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night. He also made the stars.

Do you see a theme? I love how God works. I am holding onto His light because this sure is a dark and painful time for my mama, my family and our friends.

Mom on Sunday:


Mom today:


Mom is suppose to have chemotherapy #4 on Monday. We will see what unfolds! In His hands we rest and wait.

Be Diagnosing and Prognosing

Tomorrow, my mom will finally receive her ‘official’ diagnosis and prognosis. I am not sure what they are going to tell us.

I am going in completed blind.

I sit in fear and trembling, with a humble heart at all the possibilities of this disease called cancer.

My dad told me the other day that God has us in the palm of his hand.

In preparation for tomorrow, I have my list of questions. M, my sister, has her list. My mom wants to know her surgery date in Vtown and my dad is hoping to hear mom’s prognosis.

10:45am Pacific Standard Time.
Let the healing journey continue.

Be Questioning Cancer

Cancer, I have a few questions for you that I want to ask you:

Why can’t the doctors find your origin?

Why are you wreaking havoc on my mom’s body?

The bloating. Pain. Discomfort. Hardness in her belly. The new aches and pains. The sleeplessness. Pain.

I am mad! If only they could find the origin they could then treat the cancer. Did you know that if you have cancer that began in the uterus that is also in the lung that the cancer in your lung is not lung cancer? Nope that cancer in there would be uterine cancer cells.

These are the little tidbits that I am finding out as we wait and wait and wait to find out where this cancer started. It is only when we know where it begun that treatment can begin.

Now what am I taking from all this? My life has become very small. My husband, my boys, my parents and a few very close friends.

Sorry new neighbours I will have to get to know you when this is all over. Sorry friends on the fringe, you fell off my rattley old turnip truck. Sorry relatives that I infrequently talk to, you too will have to wait.

What else can I take from this, every day is important! I love sitting by my mom in her bed while she rests. I love seeing my boys there too! I love hearing her laugh and man do I love to tease her. Every moment is special. Every moment has meaning. Every breath has hope. With God anything is possible.

May The Lord bless and keep my mama in this time of pain.