10 years

Friday, January 11, 2008, I woke up from my first colonoscopy to learn that I had cancer. My brother-in-law, Phillip, sat with me, called the rest of my family to let them know and drove me home on a snowy day.

The next day, I had my first of now dozens of CT scans. That afternoon I watched the then-undefeated Patriots in their playoff game with my brother, Mark, who decided to fly in from Maine to watch the game with me.

I went to church on Sunday, for the first time in months, and heard a sermon on heaven. I went to lunch with my sisters, Janet and Elizabeth and my brothers.

On Monday, I went back to work at Norton Creek where my colleagues rallied behind me with their encouragement and generosity. Plans were made to find the best substitute teacher possible for my students.

Later that week, I announced a women's basketball game at Wheaton College, something I'd had the pleasure of doing for 5 years at that point.

Family, friends, students and their parents wrote encouraging notes, sent gift cards, money or care packages full of things that I might need. Family friends bought me a recliner.

Many people prayed for me, some that I knew well, and some that I had never met. My parents flew out from Maine to be there for my surgery and my mom made plans to stay with me for as long as I needed.

All of that happened in the two weeks between my diagnosis and my first surgery, but it could describe the response of those same people each time over the next ten years that I was faced with a crisis brought about by my cancer. Those same people have continued to support me, love me and pray for me. I don't think I realized that day 10 years ago that I was so blessed.

I had spent months ignoring symptoms, because I didn't really want to acknowledge what my body was telling me: that something wasn't right. I self-diagnosed and self-medicated, hoping that it would go away. A lot of that came from fear and embarrassment. During those months, I wasn't ready to admit that there might be something wrong, that I couldn't fix, especially something that seemed especially private.

At different times over the last ten years, I have had to struggle to accept the new "normal" that the cancer and my treatments have wrought. It was rarely an easy process, but my support network of people who care about me has been there all along the way. My mom and my siblings have flown in to take me to treatment, and when they can't make it, my friend Brett takes time off of work to take me. My friends in the athletic department at Wheaton College give him the flexibility to do this.

When I have had medical emergencies, my principals have stepped up to lessen the stress upon my students, by finding excellent substitutes, like Cathy McGee and Linda Smith. In recent years when treatment made it difficult for me to work on a consistent basis, I have co-taught with Martha Paschke and Jennifer Smolek.

When chemo made it hard for me to get to my graduate school classes, professors like Jan Holt and Jennifer Schmidt went the extra mile to make it possible for me to video conference into the class. As my advisor, Professor Schmidt would meet with me at Panera, Sweet Tomatoes, or even her daughters' gymnastics studio to talk about my dissertation. Lee Shumow and the rest of my dissertation committee made it possible for me to complete my dissertation and graduate in the midst of treatment.

My friends and small group members at church prayed for me and cared for me. My parents' church sent me money to help pay for my rent during this year as I went on medical leave.

I hesitate to stop there, because I know that I am leaving people and examples out, but I hope you get the point. Ten years ago, I was afraid to admit that something was wrong, until I couldn't ignore it any longer. Over those ten years when I have faced problems that I couldn't surmount on my own, God provided all of you to come around me and support me and help me get through it.

It's tempting to say that everything is okay. I struggled to write this update at first, because I couldn't figure out how to describe how I am feeling. I couldn't figure out the positive spin that I wanted to put on my current situation. It's not that things are awful; as I've described above and much more, there are plenty of positive lights in my life. For one, I didn't even mention my two nephews and niece who have been born in those ten years. I can't express how much I love them and how much I enjoy the time I get to spend with them.

Yet, I need to be honest that things are not where I would want them to be. The current treatment regimen has been really hard on me physically. Not being able to work or go out much at all has taken a toll on me psychologically and spiritually. It was necessary that I take this time away from work, but it is hard for me to see it as a good thing. Beyond the significant financial strain, I miss having some place to be everyday, people to interact with and problems to solve that challenge me to think and be creative. Teaching, like any job, isn't easy, but I miss it.

In the next few weeks, I need to decide whether I am going to return to teach next year or not. There are multiple considerations that go into that decision: the state of the cancer, money, possible loss of tenure, the severity of the treatment. I think it's going to be a difficult decision and would appreciate your prayers for wisdom.

After a break for the holidays, I restart treatment on Wednesday. I anticipate that I will be in treatment for at least the next six months, whether I decide to work next year or not, and that is a daunting prospect. I've been starting to feel better, and I'm not looking forward to restarting the treatments.

I hope it is clear from this (ridiculously long) post that I am thankful for all of the ways that you have supported me, through prayer, encouragement and your generosity of time and money. It hasn't been an easy 10 years, but many people don't get anywhere close to ten years with metastatic rectal cancer, so I am not complaining (or trying not to complain too much!) I am blessed to have all of you in my life. Thank you!