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The other site www.thewalkbeside.com is now back to being the main site.  This site was just for a time but fills in the time when I wasn’t writing.

Hips, Moves, Grace, Future

After my latest recorded stint in hospital, I went to Rachel and Michaels to recover.  I was exhausted and knew I could not look after myself.  Mentally, I was a mess, and physically, I was too tired and fragile to feel safe.  Living alone,  I was showering with my phone on the floor in case I passed out or collapsed, fully expecting to at any stage.

While I was in hospital, Dad, Brothers in law and friends very kindly moved everything out of my workshop up to York where they remain in storage.  I got to the decision a few weeks earlier that I could no longer work.  Every time I started to get back into work mode, I would come down sick again and not be able to follow through on teaching commitments or work orders.

Mentally, I was not coping at all well.  The severity of my situation was at the bottom of the pit and I have never felt the full force of wretchedness until this period, well really for the last 6 months or so.  Each morning was spent in a deep and destructive mental battle where everything I had messed up would come to mind and not let go of me until I physically moved myself from my bed or the house.  I had to do something to break the cycles.  It was a terrible time.

I was still in the process of moving into my apartment.  Shifting furniture, lugging heavy boxes around etc.  I got a call during this time from the Haematologist, Dr Cull, covering Dr Brad while he was away.  Dr Cull explained that he was very concerned about my MRI report indicating that there was a large tumor in my hip.  He asked me to come in the next day.  He told me not to put any undue pressure on my leg, and that I should not walk unless necessary.  I stopped lifting the heavy boxes and went back to Rachel’s.

Guennadi brought me into the hospital.  I was limping badly as I had been for some time.  I brought the MRI films in as requested and it became clear I was in skeletal trouble.  He suggested I may need a hip replacement, and soon.  It was 11:30 Wednesday morning.  He made a few calls while I waited in the waiting room.

When Dr Cull came out, he had organised for me to go directly to the top Orthopaedic specialist in Perth at 3 o’clock that afternoon.  Amazing in itself that he got me in that quick.  In the meantime, Guennadi and I went met up with another friend who was having chemo treatment at the hospital and was able to rest back at Crawford Lodge, saving having to drive around for a few hours.  In the meantime, Elizabeth left work and came to support me for the rest of the day.

Elizabeth and I went to the Professor Wood the Orthopaedic specialist at 3.  Within 15 minutes he made it clear that I needed a hip replacement sooner than possible.  He was not able to operate himself as he was going away, but he made a call to his next best, Mr Khan.  Mr Khan said on the phone that he had a big gap in surgery time the next day due to a cancellation so the option was there.  Not only that, he could see me that day for a pre-op chat.

Libs and I headed over, via the X-Ray and Pathology centres to have scans and bloods.  We met with Mr Khan at about 5:00 for a chat.  He also said there was great urgency for the hip replacement and that he could do it the next day.  I know at this point I was making decisions while in complete shock, but in the end, I was admitted that night to Hollywood Hospital, and booked in to surgery for the afternoon.

Elizabeth continued to be amazing, not at all surprisingly.  I could not have got through the day without her or Guennadi.  By the time I got to the hospital, I was still numb with shock, but had a peace that I was being looked after, by God and by everyone who surrounded me.  Not to say I wasn’t already grieving a loss of a major body part and possibly mobility for the rest of my life.  It was a difficult time.

As far as God stepping in, He did.  Reflecting back, the whole stint in hospital for my gall bladder was a complete and utter curveball.  It was completely out of the blue!  Not only that, they never really found out what caused it, but it kept me out of action for a week for no real reason at all.  It was really just a rest for me.  BUT, If I had of not been in hospital that week, I would have been packing up my workshop.  I would have been lifting heavy machinery, benches, tools, boxes and flinging my body into the most physically demanding activities to get the workshop packed up in the week.  Looking back, there is no way I would have got through it without breaking my hip.  It would have been definite hip-icide, and as the surgeons plainly said to me in the consults, if the hip breaks, I would be in a very, very difficult situation and one that would be incredibly hard to recover from.  God stepped in big time.  He has every detail sorted before I know it or need it, no doubt.

My time in hospital was an amazing experience for me.  The fact I got in so quickly was only thanks to a great God and incredible medical staff.  I certainly felt God’s plan taking place then.  In the day before I was called into Dr Cull’s, Guennadi’s wife was praying for me and God gave her Psalm 121 to give to me.  Within 12 hours, a family friend who has been battling cancer for 10 years sent through a text via my mum, also giving me Psalm 121.  Because of the rushed nature of the day, I still hadn’t had a chance to look it up, and then the hoo-haa with hospitals began.  The morning of my operation, Elizabeth and her Mum and Dad were visiting me, along with Carms, Rach & Michael.  Elizabeth’s Mum, Ann, asked if she could share a scripture with me, one that God had laid on her hear for me.  It was Psalm 121.  I couldn’t help but cry as she read it.

1 I lift up my eyes to the hills – where does my help come from?

2 My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.

3 He will not let your foot slip— he who watches over you will not slumber;

4 indeed, he who watches over Israel 
will neither slumber nor sleep.

5 The LORD watches over you— the LORD is your shade at your right hand;

6 the sun will not harm you by day, 
nor the moon by night.

7 The LORD will keep you from all harm— he will watch over your life;

8 the LORD will watch over your coming and going 
both now and forevermore.

I knew at this point a new level of trusting in God.  Not trusting him for a particular outcome in anything, but trusting Him in whatever happens.  The grace shown to me by Elizabeth and her family has taught me a great deal.  For them to be there and care as they have in spite of an incredibly difficult time over the last year has been amazing.  I am deeply moved and thankful for them.

My time in hospital continued to be amazing.  After my operation, I was laying in bed.  I rested well during the night, but would wake up often feeling completely comforted and in the presence of God.  Hard to explain, just believe me on this one.

I was only in the hospital for 5 days, putting full weight on my leg the day after surgery and walking without crutches on day 3.  I was completely amazed at the speed of recovery.  But I feel that everyone who cared for me during this time had the perfect personality for me at each point.  It was indeed an amazing time, and I didn’t want to leave.  I even stayed a day longer than what I needed.

When I came out of hospital, there was no way I could possibly care for myself, so Carms and John came to the rescue and took me in.  Carms is an Occupational Therapist so was able to get half the hospital’s supply of health care apparatus including bed-rail, commode chair, high-back chair, crutches, dressing stick, chair wedges etc., making my life a lot easier.  She also did scar management, maybe took my staples out and looked after me as she would a king.  The care and grace between all who have cared for me has been seamless.

After a family conference, we decided it was no longer viable for me to be on my own.  Both mentally and physically I have not been doing well.  I can’t explain how great it has been to be back with family and getting to spend time with my niece and nephew, Stella and Angus.  It has been better than medicine for me.  Spending more time with Elizabeth has also been so good for me.  She continues to amaze me with here gracious care, love and support even in our separation.  She has been God’s gift to me, no doubt.

Now, the future is still unclear.  Today I continued to pack up my apartment with the help of Mum and Dad.  Rachel helped me yesterday.  It still is an incredibly difficult process, one that brings all the issues to the forefront of my mind.  Am I packing to live, or am I packing to die?  What is the best option for this time considering my health, my prognosis, my day-to-day functioning?  I still have no answer.  Trusting in God, regardless of outcome, still doesn’t give me an outcome to work with.  Everything is at least day-to-day, sometimes hour-to-hour.  That is how I live now, that is my life.  Can be exciting for some, but I am still getting used to it.

All I know is that God has kept me alive for something.  It may be just to keep me alive, or there may be some purpose involved, I don’t know.  I am praying for more time, so that I can live in the grace I have learned in recent months, so I can live in the growing knowledge of God’s love for me in ways I have not known before.  I want to live completely different in how I have related to people.  I know I have changed, but what good is it if I do not have the time to life like I have?  And I still believe there is a lot of change to take place, I want time to see it come about.  I pray for God’s will in relationship.  I pray for my cancer to be completely healed.  This kind of living in deeply in the reality of imminent death sucks.  It is more difficult than the most difficult thing I could ever imagine before it became my reality and the reality for my family and friends.

A little gap filler

I wrote off line a little during a few months ago.  I thought I might paste it here to fill in some gaps.

12 September 2009

Things are pretty tricky now.  To briefly fill in the large gap since not journaling, the radiation to the tumour in my head seemed to be effective, but not before the lesions had spread to other parts of my body.

I had a blood test just after radiation had finished and I emailed Dr Brad to find out results.  He asked if I could call him as soon as possible.  He asked if I could get the tests redone as he thought there must be some mistake, as the results were inconsistent with what I was presenting with.  So I had them done again.

A week later I called up again to get the results and I spoke to Dr Dejan – Dr Brad’s registrar.  I asked him what my protein counts were.   To put things in perspective, my counts are usually considered ‘safe’ if they are around 15.  Last year they got up to 20 and we started to get worried.  Then when they spiked to 114 it was obvious that I needed a stem cell transplant.  That bought the counts back down to about 15 again for some time.  So you can imagine what went through my head when Dr Dejan told me my first result was 500 and the double check a week later was 770!

This beast within me is alive and kicking harder than ever before.  Within a few days, I was no longer able to walk into work.  As I lay on my bed tonight, I can feel exact locations of where the cancer is destroying my bones – my femurs, both sides of my pelvis, my left hip and in the middle of my spine are the most obvious.  It is deteriorating rather rapidly.

14^th September 2009

Just when I thought that nothing surprised me anymore, today happens.

I spent most of the day today in quite a sombre mood, but I got a lot done.  I have not given up hope at all, but there are still practical sides to dying that benefit from preparation.  Today, I worked on all the forms for claiming Total and Permanent Disability.

I started with Dr Simon, my GP.  He is excellent – thorough and wise.  Trevor at Hospital School Services then filled out the forms for my employer.  Once again – excellent.  Then I got a call from the hospital asking me to come down and sign a form for my medication.  I had the forms for Dr Brad to fill in too, so I could drop those off at the same time.

When I got there, I was told that Brad wanted to see me.  He showed me a graph of my Kappa light chain levels.  It showed that my levels went to 1960!  Yes, these are the results that Libs and I used to get worried if they got to the high teens.  I was focussed on this part of the graph with my jaw hitting the floor, but meanwhile, Dr Brad was trying to get me to see the level that it was this last Saturday – it had dropped to 150 in less than 10 days!  This is a very good sign.  So much so that we may hold off on the Velcade for a time – save it for another rainy day.  So this is where I was shocked.  It didn’t take the pain from my hips, legs or spine, but it is a start.

Guennadi has been praying with me regularly for healing.  We believe God is going to heal.  Rochelle reminded me last night that there are many instances where God allows us to get to the absolute worst situation before changing our circumstances.  I figure I am pretty close.

In hospital today I heard the familiar sound of an IV pump beeping.  It is amazing how the sound so vividly brings back memories.  The thought went through my head – “I never want to die with that sound in the background”.

16^th September

Today I had a meeting with my Radio Oncologist, Dr Mandy.  She has followed my case since the beginning, as my first treatment was radiotherapy really.  She knows that my situation has been incredibly hard to read and that I have thrown curve balls from the get go.  This time though, there was nothing she could say insofar as offering a positive position on my situation.

All the nurses who have looked after me are also aware of what my situation is medically.   It is quite surreal actually.  I am usually having quite normal conversations with most people, even though my prognosis is so poor from a medical perspective.  We still have a laugh and a joke around.  I am certainly not in denial, I understand fully the fragility of my life at this point, and how quickly it can come to an end.  But God’s hand is firmly on this situation I believe.

Mary was the first person I met personally who had Multiple Myeloma.  We met through Chemo Club.  It was only a few months ago when she was limping like I am limping, her MM was out of control as mine was, but I doubt her protein levels were as off the graph as mine were.  One day, she went into the hospital as she was rapidly deteriorating.  Less than a day later she had died.  If I were to give myself a realistic time frame, I would say I have between 2 days and 10 years, medically speaking – based on the worst-case scenario to the best.  Quite a range.

1^st October

I am recovering at Rach and Michael’s after spending a week in hospital with an infected gall-bladder.  Not sure how it started, and I don’t really care.  I went in to the workshop on a Monday to start the ordeal of packing it up.  Guennadi and another friend, Don, came in to give me a hand.  To be honest, I don’t know how I made it from the carpark to the shop, but when I got there, Guennadi took one look at me and told me there was no way I was going to do anything but head back home – I looked like a dead man walking, except I was in a chair and couldn’t really move.  Don helped me back to my car.  I drove home, but halfway there I started to vomit.  Thankfully, I had left a rice-cooker in the back seat of the car which provided a perfect vomit bowl.  Thankfully, I haven’t cooked rice for anyone since.  Don got me home safely and I lay on a mattress on the floor for the day.

Not being able to walk properly or get up off the floor, I decided to email Dr Brad.  My temperature at this stage was already 38.8C and it wasn’t getting any better.  By the afternoon, I decided to head into Emergency Department as advised.  I casually walked up to triage with my neutropaenic access card, my temp was taken and it was 39.9C and no more questions were asked.  I jumped a queue of about 20 and was put on a bed and on treatment within the next 15 mins.

I didn’t eat for the entire week, for various reasons.  Firstly, I didn’t feel like it.  Then when I did, I wasn’t allowed to.  Then, when I REALLY wanted to I got put on a fluid diet.  I lost a lot of weight during the week.

It was a tough week mentally.  Facing a risky situation again, having family and friends have to go through the emotional stress, listening to the sounds of the pumps and monitoring equipment that remind me of what sounds I will be listening to when I die  (Mental note – must remember to bring iPod to deathbed.)  It is just wearing me down.  God has not healed me yet.

My future with Libs, the time I have left on this earth, the questions of what to do with this time, my crumbled hopes and aspirations, unresolved pain, my physical difficulties, my dying body, my waiting for life to get better, my waiting for whatever plan God has in store for me (supposedly) – they have all taken their toll, and I feel like I have missed the mark completely.  What a waste of a life.  I fear it is too late now.  All evidence points toward the irredeemable aspect of this life.  I am over waiting for things to happen, and now I feel powerless to do anything about it.

Yep, low point over the last week or so.

2^nd October

If I look back on my life, the failures stand out like headlines, while the things I have managed to do slightly well disappear into the fine print.

Now, my practical decisions have a lot riding on them, not that they didn’t before, but time constraints and the ability to carry them out are limited due to many reasons.  I am more confused than ever, wondering what to do with my time, my money, my living arrangements, my relationship, my goals, my health, my esteem, my identity if all these other things turn to shit.  Oh what a fool I’ve been.  Is there any chance of turning this around?  It doesn’t seem to be possible, unless I get out of this town and start from scratch somewhere else.    If anything, I want to be known as a husband primarily, that’s what I always wanted, and that has been the area that I have fallen down the most.  All other stuff has collapsed in due course, and added to the shamozle.

Tired and Sore

This morning I tried to get out of bed.  It was a struggle.  I looked into the wardrobe mirror and stated, “I’m tired and sore.”

The tiredness and soreness didn’t leave me all day.  I struggled to walk from a city car park to the workshop, whereas a couple of days ago I was walking from Robinson Ave.  I am hoping that it is just a busy week catching up with me, and because I didn’t sleep well last night at all.  I have taken drugs tonight so I am typing fast before they hit kick in.

I emailed Dr Brad this morning asking when I need to make an appointment for, and when the results will come through.  Hopefully I will find out tomorrow, but what is there to look forward to really?  I am expecting to go on a 3 month regime of chemo and then possibly another stem cell transplant.

My dualistic thinking is becoming more polarized in a way.  I have got so many things I am excited about at the moment that I want to live for – healing relationships, working normally, making music, spending time with friends, creating stuff, feeling alive.  At the very same time, I am having to contemplate another 6 months of ups and downs.  I don’t know how down I am to expect either.  I am contemplating and processing what it will be to have a vibrant healthy life while at the same time preparing for the worst.  Both are very much in my face at the moment, I feel more than ever.

I expect God is going to heal me, and that is my hope.  I hope also that he makes my hair grow back again, my scar tissue disappear and my muscles big again.  Or just big.

Where do we go from here?

This is the question Ma asked when I told her the news I received today.  I didn’t have an answer for her.

My blood results came back today after a retest. Dr Brad said last time that the proteins (Kappa Light Chains) were high.  I didn’t ask how high, but I expected they would be around 50 or 60.  If this were the case, I would have something to worry about it.  It would mean heading back into some mode of treatment.  At my worst, just before my last stem cell transplant, my proteins got to a level of 114 – a spike that warranted the high-dose chemo and transplant.  Dr Brad is away at the moment, so his Registrar called me and told me the results. “Your protein level is 770.”

“Excuse me?”  I replied.

I kept cool and calm during the rest of the conversation as I tried to get as much information as to what this actually means.  We scheduled a pelvis biopsy next Monday, to ascertain what it is that we are dealing with – as if I think it makes a difference.  The cancer is back, and in full swing, somewhere in my body.  I have a suspicion it is mainly in my femur, as I have the dull sensation in my bone where the lesion was before.

I have a feeling that now it is just God and me.

This is not to say that the skilled medical staff can no longer do anything for me – they probably can.  But the two main forms of treatment that I am aware of for me I am not keen to undertake.  An allogeneic stem cell transplant (from a donor) is one of the options, and at this point I have decided to not undertake it.  The specialist at Royal Perth has done a fantastic job at educating me of the risks, and I have been informed that based on my last stem cell transplant, it is likely that I would not make it through this one.  Then there is chemo, but who wants that long term?

Whatever the case, I find out more next week as I talk with Dr Brad about it.

This happens as I have really got the silver business fired up, ready for a proper launch, and I begin full-time teaching in a job that I am really enjoying.  It is just so inconvenient at the moment.

Process, Prayer, Promise

The Process at the moment is radio treatment and yesterday started on the steroids to try and get the size down of the tumor.  It is working, as the lump seems to be shrinking, even before the dexamethasone.  The roids are keeping me awake, which means I am getting a lot done at night as I am buzzing.

Today, the elders of the church I go to prayed for me for healing.  To hear these dear friends pray is so refreshing, powerful and expectant.  We are all at the point where we don’t want to settle for moderate improvements in my health, or in mediocre answers to prayer generally.  We believe God can do amazing things, and we expect that.  We want to be blown away in the same way we read about in the accounts of healing in the bible, where people were blown away.  He is the same God. People sicker than me, sometimes dead, sometimes deadish, were healed.  He is the same God.  People who didn’t really get a choice, or had no pre-requisites, or sought healing on behalf of others, they were healed.  He is the same God.

The Promise lies in the hope that we have in an all-powerful Creator and Healer.  We are promised that healing happens in the name of Jesus. This is what I want.  I am not interested in the healing that can be attributed to the apparent lack of God stepping in, like when someone dies they may say they received the ‘ultimate healing’.  No, sorry, not good enough.  I can, however, understand that people would desire healing in this way, and pray for it, or appreciate it when it comes.  The reason why I feel I need healing is to be removed from discomfort, loss, grief, pain, physical breakdown etc.  If we didn’t crave to be removed from these things, we wouldn’t need healing.  So when I pray, and when others pray, we are expecting tangible, miraculous, God-glorifying healing.  No tumors, no spiking paraproteins, no kidney failure, no broken bones, no 2.5 years, no need for remission, no need for ongoing tests, no having to eat in the hospital cafeteria.  This is what healing looks like for me, and I believe God’s promises hold water.  I still wonder what it would take to have them hold water for everyone, in all circumstances, on all occasions.

Radiotherapy: Version 2

I had my first day back in radiotherapy today.  This time it is quite different, and I am dealing with it quite differently I think.  I am dealing with everything differently.  I guess this is not unusual.  There is a sense of ownership over the treatment now.  Before, I felt as though I was the subject and I would be treated by the treaters.  Now I feel like I am more in control of my treatment, and ultimately, feel as though God is in control.  So I am less concerned about the treatment itself given this knowledge.

This knowledge was there before, but it is more profound this time around.  Difficult to understand.

This time around, I am in the same room, but laying on my front.  This may seem like a point not worth mentioning, but I feel there is quite a difference.  Last time, I lay on my back while everything went on around me.  I could see the decorative stars flashing on the roof, watch the machine do its thing, interact with people around me and see what was going on.  This time, my head is locked in a mask, my eyes are forced shut, I don’t see the machine, and I have no idea who is in the room at different times.  It makes a difference.

So much is going on at the moment. Too much for me to write down while I am dead tired.

Time is ticking

The golf-ball size is quickly turning into a softball size.  I can’t shake the feeling that time is ticking away, and I haven’t had any treatment yet.  It has been 3 months since this bump first appeared, and a month since it was tested positive for plasmacytoma.  At the moment, radiotherapy is being planned to start next week hopefully.

The good news is that no other lesions have been found in the rest of my body, so that is good.  I am still waiting to hear about my MRI report though.  The CT and PET scans were fairly clean, except uptake was noted at past lesion sites or trauma sites.

I just don’t want this thing to spread.  That would take it from being the best case scenario to the worst case scenario in a matter of one report.  I want it gone, yesterday.

In all this, I am still feeling incredibly peaceful, that is the only way to describe it.  I am not anxious and I have a deep sense that things are under control.  I am trusting God, I am excited that He is able to heal and I feel still so well looked after by Him.  The health thing is His domain, I am happy to have Him look after it.

I am praying mainly for a better understanding of God though.  This is my main priority.  I have learned that the most important thing for me at this time is how I see God – that reflects in everything I do.  So the health thing has been couched in a growing understanding of God.

But boy it’s messy, still.  I tend to be stuffing up a whole lot, even when I think I am making good progress, I feel like I am making mistake after mistake.

There are too many things going on at the moment.  The saddest of these is coming to terms with the marriage breakdown between Elizabeth and myself.  Elizabeth has not stopped being amazing, and an incredible friend.  Gracious, courageous and beautiful, through and through.

I do know that God is not finished with me yet.  If you are reading this, the same is true for you.  I am learning that no matter how messy things can get – through choice or circumstance – no matter how different the situation may be to everyone else’s, it can still be part of a process that God uses to answer that prayer that we sometimes treat as a nice thing to put into a prayer –  ”God, help us know you more”.  If only we knew how frickin’ dangerous this prayer can be.  I am going to stick to “God, thank you for this food, amen” from now on.

Still on my mind

It doesn’t look at all good.  The bump on my head is really quite big.  It is bigger than the half a golf ball under my scalp that it used to be, and the headache is taking its toll.  I am not on any medication for it at this point, but really I should.  I feel I am losing the ability to think straight, but I think that has more to do with the headache than any interfering with brain function.

I had prayer for healing again on Monday last week with friends Geoff and Ruth and the guys down in Mandurah.  It was a really great day.  I have been feeling very peaceful since the recent diagnosis, but after this day I was particularly excited about what could happen.  I believe God is giving me this peace.  How can you have a massive cancerous bump on your head, have a marriage breakdown, struggle to know what you should be doing for work, and come to terms with who God is in all this while having a peace about it.  I am not saying that there is nothing that concerns me – I still have to make some difficult decisions.  But there is an excitement also that God can do something.  Whether He does or not is another matter.

The question that I am challenged to ask of myself at this point is “What is God confronting me with in this?”   There is a list, and it may become clearer to me in the future.  But for now, I am conscious that I think too much and don’t live enough.  It is a great day outside, and there are things to do.  I want to be more disciplined in how much time I spend ‘thinking’ about things, and how much time I spend taking action.

This week

I am considering not having medical treatment.  There is a combination of reasons.  First, and foremost, is that I believe God can heal.  This is my primary motivation.  I want, more than ever, for God to step in and take the lump in my head, and everything else that is connected with the disease, away forever.  I want to die of old age, and that is not within the near future.

It is at the point where things can go downhill quite rapidly.  If the multiple myeloma is already present in other parts of my body, another stem-cell transplant would be recommended.  My last stem-cell transplant was autologous, using my own stem cells.  The next one would be allogeneic, using someone else’s stem cells.  These may be from my sisters, or an unrelated matched donor.

In either case, it is a risky process, far more complicated than the last one.  The risk of graft-versus-host-disease is a real concern.  The efficacy of the process is not great anyway.  On top of that, Dr Brad recommends that if I choose to go down that path, it would be best to go into it while I am feeling well and in peak condition.  He is basing this on the fact that for my last stem-cell transplant, my creatinine levels were so high, and my kidneys compromised so much, that the risk is high I wouldn’t make it through the procedure.  He would be reluctant to put me through this knowing this – good idea, I agree.  So a lot depends on the results that come through from the scans.

The desire for God to step in is great – edging the outer rim of desperation.  I am going to see friends Geoff and Ruth on Monday to be prayed over for healing.  Apart from being long-time family friends,  Geoff was my Sunday School teacher when I was 8.  They have both been a loving influence through life, and they have set up a place where people come to be released from the power of mainly drug and alcohol addiction.  They invited me down the other day to be prayed over, so I am going to do that.  I really, really want to be released from this sentence.  At this point, realistically, medical options are becoming limited, risky and unpleasant.  As if they were ever pleasant.

Stories about God healing, and stories about Him not stepping in are there too, probably same in number, but so difficult to talk about.  A story in todays news got my attention – talk about timing.  I don’t know the full story at all, but it was definitely something that got me thinking.  Read it here.

The biggest thing we have had to deal with in all this is that Elizabeth and I have gone through a devastating separation.  There is little point in trying to explain the circumstances in order for it to all make sense, so I am not going to.  We both still have a deep love for each other, and being apart has been incredibly difficult for both of us.  In the context of what is going on health-wise, the practical implications of caring for each other have had to be worked through, and will continue to be.  Although I am not writing much here about this aspect of life at the moment, it is an incredibly important aspect of what is going on.  Elizabeth remains the most amazing person to walk into my life, and is the most loyal friend a person could ever be privileged enough to have.