Radiatation Recovery… Oy-Vey!!!

 Holy buckets, that was intense. 

I mean, they said recovery from brain radiation would wipe me out, 

•but it slapped me all up in the throat like a sunburn,

•decided to add a dose of nasty fever blisters all down my tongue, making swallowing really painful, and talking/ singing all but impossible.

•wiped out all my energy,

• opted to give me extreme weakness in my left hand and right hip,

• and put me in the hospital for almost a week……… THad. TThanakslkddjf;iweyut98yfvkcjbn ;kjbbh……/ ;lkj;lkj jkhiyut8665s6r4ewa.,d 

• and generally has made me feel like I’m 80-85 years old.

I STARTED USING A WALKER THIS WEEK, PEOPLE. I AM ONLY 51 YEARS OLD!

I mean, it’s pretty sweet, and it does make my life a lot easier, but A WALKER?

I’m taking my meds with a spoonful of pudding. I am afraid to drink water without thickening it because I might choke. Everyone handles me like I’m made of glass. 

And I’m feeling better than I have in a while. 👵🏼🥺😳😡😶

But I’d like to say that I did accomplish (and none of this was just me) : 

• Painting the studio (so many wonderful volunteers)

• Shaving my head because my hair hurt (Thanks VINNY!!!)

• Loosing Vinny’s birthday gift in an amazingly difficult place to find

• Matt finding Vinny’s birtthday gift and declaring the woman with brain  radiation no longer gets to hide gifts - ever.  

• Receieve a reallly nice gift from the Pink Ladies of Sioux Falls because of Emily Wilson. THANK YOU SO MUCH TO THE PINK LADIES OF SIOUX FALLS, AND TO MY SWEET MAGNOLIAS!

• Get a Small Business Loan, despite my friends starting a second GoFundMe that basically said I was dying and need all the money we could get. I guess they Google that stuff?

• Miss the Sioux Falls Stage Awards, but let Maia look fabulous and wear an old dress of mine and be Dad’s date

Win a MAJOR AWARD as a part of the cast of “Company,” who won for Best Show

Learn to Be A Sloth… I suck at this, BTW.

Big Thank You to Nicole Holm teaching me about Sloth Philosophy.

Sorry I’m terrible at it.

Get a Red Blood Cell Transfusuion

Let some of my teachers take on more responsibillty

Felt well enough (thanks transfusion) to go home from from the hospital. 

But not before visiting my castmate from “Company”, Mary Ridder in the hospital, and her husband who had baby #6 the day beore I checked out.

Moved home, Started going to “regular” appointments- like theraputic massage at  my chiropractor in Dell Rapids, (the best apointment of my week, I swear.) Did a Holistic, Centering, Chackra Healing, which helped lead me to Greater Enlightenment that day too. Pretty much an intense counseling appointment that I enjoyed a lot.

I also had my labs checked and talked to my oncologist. Things are all looking good to start the chemo this week. I will have labs checked again on Monday, with the intention of starting the Doxil (more agressive version of chemo) on Tuesday. 

I made it out to see a couple of shows this weekend: 

DAPA’s “Once Upoun A Matreress”

Mo Plastow, one of my teachers and always up to go to local shows with me!

and some ol’ pals from Mitchell/ USD playin’ 

some tunes on the patio Downtown Sioux Falls

Ryan Stahle & Chris Miller

with some really solid guys in their band.

Also squezed in LAST WEEKEND:

“Shrek Jr.” in Harrisburburg

Bare Bodkins’ (again, last weekend)

“Romeo & Juliet”

On Saturday (yesterday) Had a difficult but productive discussion with a divorced dad who wanted to tell ME how much he was going to pay me for his daughter’s voice lessons. But ended in us both feeling heard and valued because my staff & I are using this book as a great guide, for communicating with students, parents & coworkers.

How to Work with (Almost) Anyone: Five Questions for Building the Best Possible Relationships https://a.co/d/3ZrIYuT

 Then went and bought shoes because I had a gift card and that was a very grown up discussion, and I won the argument without anyone feeling bad, so I wanted to treat my self. 

THEN, I went  to Best Buy and got 5 iPads and two new bluetooth speakers for the studio because I got that big loan and I am a Beasty Boss, Bubbly CEO.

Saturday afternoon,

Matt & I popped down to Vermillion to greet some dear friends:

(Mark) & Kerrie Kleppin-Winn

•I amy not be the biggest fan of Radiation

John & Lorrie Thomas

Today, we went to church & I played piano (not very well). Did not sing,  But the rest of the family played, and I basically didn’t screw anything up. 

Then we had family dinner at Mom’s, I took a nap with my feet WAY up in the air, and got them almost back down the right size. Matt went away to choose  music with friends for a gig, then came home to discover me STILL writing this blog. 

So now, I’m going to bed because I guess I have to do things tomorrow too. 💕

TOTAL BRAIN RADIATION!!!!

 

This is definitely the vibe you get when you hear the words, 

TOTAL BRAIN RADIATION.

In reality: here are the images I come away with

I see and smell these colors in phase 1….

I don’t know if I really smell clean chlorine, but I want to, so I do.

“directive”

It’s a whole system…

“You are so pretty… 

we love you and will do our job and take care of you!”

The radiologist does TRIGONOMETRY. 

“You’re fine.”

They made a mask for me to wear every time:

Today at the end of treaments they asked if I wanted to keep it. 

I took a hard pass on that one, thanks.

They clip it to the table, and you don’t move. I did this every weekday morning for 10 days. 

My process involved 3 phases, so I didn’t move for about 45 minutes. 

For me, this was as easy of a choice as: Don’t move during LASIK. 

It’s your brain for the rest of your life. Don’t screw around. 

Some observations: My larynx feels weirdly not in the right place after all this, so swallowing is a little weird. The radiologist says he didn’t touch it, and whatever I’m feeling is temporary. So, I will gently swallow my throat into a normal feeling, I guess. 

I’ve been able to think clearly during the whole process. There was no Napalm. There is no generalized brain fog. I get tired sometimes, which is boring and dumb and I don’t like having LOW ENERGY. 

I think they shot me with some kind of boring laser. 

So today was the last day of radiation. I rang the bell in their office because I’m done with them for the time being. It’s the end of one chapter.

Yes, I’m very festively dressed. Did you expect anything different? 

It’s the week of July 4. I shall dress accordingly. 

Next, I rest for a week (woo, my favorite.) Then on Friday, July 14, I start a new chemo called Doxil, or “the Red Devil.” so that’s nice. 

Emerging into the Light (part 2 of “It’s All Hitting the Fan.”)

Well, to no one’s surprise, I made it through the weekend. Er.. week. Anyway, I’m still here.

Let’s review for a second how we got this far, shall we?

Here’s a quick review of the timeline:

I believe we left off here…

Friday, June 9: 10:30ish pm I go to the hospital with soft pajamas and bathrobe in tow, knowing it’s going to be a bit of a stay. (Pockets turn out to be especially important.)

Sleep overnight. You know how it is, it’s not a hotel. It’s a hospital. You need help to do everything, you can’t get out to go potty by yourself because you’re hooked to an IV pole, they’re measuring all your vitals all night and all day. You have to pee in a thing they call a hat, but they don’t want to touch your old pee after a while, just know you did it and how much. Oh, and are you pooping?

Blah, blah, blah. Get Amy better. 

Now it’s Saturday, June 10. Maia’s 19th Birthday. Maia has plans with their Significant Other, Michael, and the First Congregational Church downtown to be in the Pride Parade and go love people and enjoy being a colorful part of the rainbow of life. 

Yes, they’re basically twins. 

Vinny and Xander also had to check out all the fun at DTSF Pride. 

Dad hugs, methinks.

Xander was working with Molten Audio running sound for live events that day. It was a whole adventure unto itself. That’s his story to tell. 

I stayed at the hospital and had to make do with rainbow sherbert (which was frozen really hard when I got it, then I slept through until it was too sloppy to eat on Saturday. First World Problems) and rainbow frosted cupcakes on Sunday afternoon. 

Saturday, by early afternoon, Matt’s pastor friends from Annual Conference start showing upon their way out of town, as do gifts and a few flowers from the gift shop. Thank you to Pastor Eric Van Meter who brought Matt some Slim Chickens to eat for lunch, and all friends who sent snacks, flowers, candy, balloons, etc. 

Y’all, the POWER OF COMMUNITY hooked into full swing! 

Now if you’ve ever met me, you know I LOVE BEING AROUND PEOPLE. I am so extroverted that I tip the scale over when I take a test. But while I’m energized with my loved ones around me, I also feel a bit of responsibility to keep the conversation going, stay lively, make sure everyone is comfortable, etc. So others took on the Power Under gift of starting a GoFundMe to support our family during this time. 

Two super women, in particular deserve a special thanks here. I want to give SO MUCH THANKS TO EMILY WILSON AND MACIE LUPICA, two of my “Steel Magnolias” who have all become my besties for life, created a GoFundMe campaign for our family. 

UN. STOPPABLE.

If you are a GIVER and would like to contribute to our GoFundMe, feel free to stop by here and make a donation. Or if you’re more of a “Bring a Meal”- type person, you can do that here due to a Meal Train organized by the beautiful Rogene Brown and the good people at our church, Asbury United Methodist. Thank you for your giving heart. We see you and we appreciate you so VERY, VERY MUCH!!!

Please do not feel obligated in any way to give to us. I want you to know that we are so well-cared for! I am not worried about money for the business, for the house, for Maia’s sophomore year of college (well, a little… there’s gotta some kind of scholarship they can get, for having a mom like me, right?)

Right… back to cancer stuff. So, Saturday night. We’ve had a few guests at the hospital, and I’m starting to perk up. Go for a couple of short walks around the unit, the IV fluids are starting to work and help balance my calcium and liver or kidneys or whatever. (My mom has more detailed clinical stuff sprinkled throughout my FB comments. I’m a story-teller in this setting, not giving you my medical chart.) 

Matt hangs around for a few extra hours, hops into my fancy hospital recliner bed with me and we snuggle up and take a nap to pass the afternoon away as “normally” as possible.

The point is, I’m starting to feel better.

Sunday, June 11:

Matt doesn’t have to do church. 

I don’t have to do church. 

It feels weird. 

We hang out in the hospital room and watch Carly do church online instead because she has been leading the Confirmation Class and it’s confirmation Sunday. She brings her dog to church. Now I’m sad I missed church. 

Pastor Kip takes over everything else. 

Ok, when does Maia’s birthday party start? Well, they don’t want to bring dinner to the hospital, so they celebrate at Mom’s without me for a while. 

It’s fine.

When do I get to start seeing my people again? It’s 2:00 pm.

First, all of our theatre/community friends have to arrive. We had a room that looked like this for a while: 

(Not pictured: several other friends, and all the snacks)

Once people started arriving, they didn’t stop. The gift shop was like, “Oh, aren’t you the popular one?” and flowers started to arrive (I had been on a brief COVID restriction because I coughed once.). 

It was a long afternoon of healing, talking, resting, visiting, eating, walking, pooping, peeing, and staying alive. But I got cupcakes and finally got to celebrate Maia’s birthday. More hunkering down with Matt for the evening to watch a little streaming TV, then off to a not terribly restful hospital night.

Monday, June 12

Oh look! It’s a work day for the rest of the world! I am starting to see visits from doctors I know, and the one I’m most interested in is my Radiation Oncologist, Dr. Murphy. 

This is the guy I needed some answers from. 

So far, I’m in that awful place between “The cancer is in your brain” and “We don’t know how bad it is or what the plan is yet.”

So Dr. Murphy comes in, asks what I know from the ER doc and the Hospitalist who have given me some news but not enough. 

“Let’s start with your questions for me,” says the kindly, nerdy, tall man.

I said, “I’m worried about the term ‘Full-Brain Radiation.’ This sounds like it’s going to turn me into an idiot for a while, and I kind of need my brain. You know I opened a business 5 days ago.”

He said, “Who told you it’s going to turn you into an idiot?”

“Well, probably me. This is my interpretation: ‘Short-term 2-week idiot after treatment’ is what I got out of all of these conversations. There’s new cancer in my brain, this is why I feel mushy, can’t finish my sentences, my eyes are acting weird, my head is lumpy and I can’t play the piano -or write, or express myself in any way. From what I understand, you have to do a blanket layer of Napalm on my brain, then you can pinpoint what’s left. I won’t remember short-term stuff, but I’ll keep all the old memories. Aren’t brains important for other stuff?

I guess there’s more math involved than this.

So Dr. Murphy camly explained that there were far more details and science and TRIGONOMETRY involved in brain radiation than this, so now it feels more like this to me?

Look, I just make pretty music, man.

Well, I felt better about things after he left, somehow, and they sent me down to get my face mask made for radiation that afternoon. 

The mask is kind of like this, but mine is lavendar, which is a nice feminine touch, I guess. 

They bake this plastic sheet full of holes in a little EZ-Bake Oven to get it just warm enough to let it soften down over your face, while using a cool hair-dryer to keep your skin from melting at the same time. Overall, not an unpleasant experience. Now, doing Google searches though, I’m really disappointed that I didn’t get to go through this at a Children’s Hospital. Look at the options!

I asked where they stored all these masks? Like in a Game of Thrones-style Hall of Faces? 

seems like a wasted opportunity to me.

There are protective places in the mask that will keep the radiation from ruining the important parts of my brain, and I’m on some kind of medication that will protect the MYELIN (remembered that word) too. I don’t pretend to know how any of this works.

Dr. Murphy also gave me the great news that I would finally get to go home that day!!! (Monday evening, June 12)

My blood levels were steady enough to still have the pain port surgically implanted on Thursday, I hadn’t seen my main oncologist, Dr. Jones since Friday, but I was ready to get OUT OF THE HOSPITAL!

Tuesday, June 13

Now I have to adjust to life at home, try and figure out how to keep work running, and give myself a couple of days to recover before going back in for surgery on Thursday. When does brain radiation start? Tomorrow? 2 weeks? I don’t know.  

Vinny the rockstar drove me around on Tuesday. Came and picked me up for work, we did little a few little piddly things, went and bought office supplies, I did one intake session, then called it a day after about noon. 

The Magnolias invaded that evening. 

The 5 other women I shared the stage with in the SF Community Theatre production of “Steel Magnolias” are special to me in a way no other group of women has been ever before or since.

Like my OG movie poster knockoff?  

Love ya’ more than my luggage, girls!

This was us before we ever started at the Orpheum downtown. Then we went on tour together the next Fall. Meanwhile, we talk Every. Single. Day on text. It’s mostly Lisa Kutter’s fault. She has no filter.

Here we were back together in the same room last week:

Some of us look exactly the same.

Some of us have been through some really 

tough physical crap since those first days.

It was so nice to unpack our lives a little on a deeper than surface level. Plus they brought food and gave me a nice new soft jammy/robe set to celebrate NOT being in the hospital for a while. 

After they left, I went to sleep in my own bed, and slept all the blissful night long! 

Wednesday, June 14

My BFF since 2nd grade, Amy Lu Scheaffer drove to Sioux Falls (minus any of her own 6 children) to be my chauffeur for the day. Amy and I were always doing music and theatre things together as kids, and I like to say she always played the Sweetheart, and I always played the Dingbat on stage. 

Here’s an oldish picture. We’ve been friends for a long time.

I’ve always been the tall one. 

My brother, Casey also came over to SF just see me and we had a nice visit at the house for a bit that afternoon.  (I think Mom scared him a little) so I got to grab a picture with these two who happened to be the Best Man and Maiden of Honor at our Wedding in 1992.

 Amy came with me to the studio, saw how things are run there, took me to a surprise oncology visit that I found out about on that morning. I had labs too, so we grabbed lunch together at the Prairie Center between labs and meeting Mom & Matt at Dr. Jones’s office. 

Amy came with, and I’m glad she did (She’s wicked smart). Everyone is so worried, and we all feel better after Dr. Smarty pants talks to us for a while. He has assured us that there are still more tools in the kit.

So the next plan looks like this: 

Does anyone remember what this means?

Sacituzamb is the winner I think. Mom will clarify. 

The point is, cancer is hard to kill because it keeps mutating.  

I’m happy to be a voice teacher. Those problems are so much easier!

BUT FIRST- fight the insurance. 

Yup. Back to that again. Hooray for patient advocates!!! I don’t know how you can fight for your own coverage and survive. I would literally just quit and die. I think they count on that a lot.

“Luckily,” we can’t start the new chemo until we finish the brain radiation so they’ve got some time to do battle. Apparently, it takes a few days to figure out how the math works on all the radiation stuff, but we now know the timeline for radiation is:

Starting Radiation this Tuesday, June 20 in the afternoon, then every weekday at 8 am until July 3.

Whew. I’m going to call that post #2 on this topic. Next, we’ll talk about having pain pump surgery and only booking one gig the weekend afterward.

It’s all Hitting the Fan (Part 1)

 Well, the Sh*t’s hit the fan. 

Let’s back up a little to see how we got here.Last time I posted (which seems like a 100 billion years ago now), I was going bald again. That plan definitely made my hair thin very dramatically, and I had to shave my head because it was untenemble. Couldn’t brush through it without gobs falling out, but it was fuzzy baby goose down pretty quickly. This is what I basically look like now (except less fully feathered. Just as lumpy): 

I have a great wig, though. Here’s me in my last show as Joanne in Sondheim’s Company singing “It’s the Little Things” to the incomparable Bob Wendland, Early May, 2023.

Unfortunately, plan E-ribulin didn’t work at all. I lost all my hair for the 3rd time for nothing. Awesome. Time to do a show and just live with side-effects for a while. Let the team at Avera do their work.

“Just live with the side-effects.” Let’s restate that. 

I was meanwhile, visiting with every department in and ouside the cancer center trying everything to relieve the persistant bone pain in my back. I used accupuncture, Intrared Therapy, Chiroproactic Care, Counseling, all the meds in and ouside the hospital (minus pot- haven’t gone there yet), OK, so Tylenol and Opioids, no N-SAIDS because I was a bleeding risk. But I WAS MISERABLE. 

The best way I can describe the pain is this tattoo

(to be clear- I did NOT get another tattoo, 

nor did I turn into a ripped dude) 

but imagine all this black hurting, 

but about 4 inches lower. 

Then try laying flat on it.

Through the advice of the Palliative Care center at our hospital system, I visited the Pain Clinic to get a consultation on May 31 about getting a pain pump surgically implanted. I had just made an appointment to have one put in at my earliest convienience, on Thursday, June 15. BUT SUDDENLY, it was time to open my new studio, for Matt to have Annual Conference, and for my legs and brain to start behaving rather unpreditctably. 

I started Plan F: Kisqali on Saturday, June 3. It was a hastle and an half to get insurance to approve the meds. We have amazing patient advocates at Avera, and I later found out my oncologist, Dr. Jones, actually called our state represpentative, Dusty Johnson to say, “People are dying out here. Can we please just let me do my job and prescribe the drugs they need to save their lives?!” 

Anyway, the patient advocate got me a voucher from Big Pharma to have one round of this ridiculously heavily-guarded medicine, which maybe didn’t work as well as we had hoped, but it definitely revealed some other progression of the cancer throughout my body. 

I started Kisqali on Saturday morning, (three weeks after Jones had prescribed it), and it gave me instant side-effects. All of them. It was 3 pills a day, 7 days a week, 3 weeks on, one week off. I started puking on day 1. It was not like normal nausea. It was weird reflux. The food just wouldn’t go down my esophogas, then I’d get these little hiccupy-burps and spontaneous unstoppable puke. 

No graphics for this. You’re welcome. 

Like I said, maybe it wasn’t the right drug for me at the moment, but BOY did it reveal some things that were going wrong elsewhere! 

So I started Kisqali on Saturday, and the long- awaited (soft) opening of the EFFERVESCENT VOICE ACADEMY happened on Monday, June 5. Check it out at effmyvoice.com  

You can find everything you need to know on that website about what we’re doing with effVA, but I can’t rabbit trail that direction right now. Just know, it’s been 3 solid years of hard work and determination to get me to this point, and I have an amazing team, and IT’S HAPPENING!!!! And I’m so excited about it.

As a late-minue substitution, my son-in-law, Vinny got to take on the role of Admin in our new business, and I DON’T KNOW WHAT I WOULD DO WITHOUT VINNY!!!! 🏳️‍⚧️🤍🫧💙💗💙🤍🦈

The Effervescent Voice Academy is a way for me to give back and continue to give to the next generation and the next and the next of singers in our lovely city. I am training some of my upper level students (and those who have studied with others) to learn the trade of voice teaching, so that we can help meet the demands for lesson in this town. It’s a whole thing, and it’s a way for me to recognize that my resources may be limited, but don’t need to be hoarded. 

I feel very strongly that I should be the first face of the team that new clients meet when they come to the academy, so all new students and their parents if they’re under 18, have to do an Initial Fit Session with me, then they get placed with one of our younger teachers to start growing in the basics of healthy, free, joyous singing. I help mentor the teachers, we work together as a team. It’s all very harmonious and Kum-By-Yah. I’d love to have a conversation with you about it, but alas…

…back to dumb cancer stuff.

So, I took a few appointments on Monday and Tuesday (June 5-6), knowing I wasn’t feeling great, but intake appointments are not very physically taxing for me. What surprised me was that my brain wouldn’t come up with words. And by the end of the week, I couldn’t play the piano anymore. My brain was just mush.

I have had success with IV fluids for nausea in the past, so I called the infusion center Wednesday, June 7, and asked one of my nurse/besties up on the floor to see if I could get a bag of fluids on Wednesday morning, and just kept trucking along. With a barf bucket in tow, just in case (never threw up at work, FTR)

MEANWHILE... Matt Morrison had a HUGE week because it was the Annual Conference of the North and South Dakotas United Methodist Church (fortunately, hosted in Sioux Falls this year, not ND) and HE GOT ORDAINED!!! 

I was asked to pop over and sing at one of the services on 

Thursday,  June 8  in the afternoon, and YOU GUYS.  I did this: 

I looked VULNERABLE. In front of PEOPLE. COMPASSIONATE PEOPLE…  I had to use assistance walking up on stage, and needed a seat to sing a part of a hymn/trio that I’ve known for years. (For all my late 80’s/early 90’s Sheldon High School Grads out there, we sang “In this Very Room.” I guess it’s old enough to be in a hymnal somewhere now, but my weavy descants and countermelodies were straight Hal Leonard, baby. Thanks, Mr. Dighton for that lovely song in my memory forever.

Want to know the fastest way to get prayers? Look vulnerable in front of a room full of pastors who love your husband like a brother. 

I rested as needed but kept working the rest of the day. While I was singing, Vinny texted Matt, not wanting to overstep his bounds or anything, but he was worried about me. Something was very wrong. 

Friday, June 9 :

I had a regularly scheduled appointment with Dr. Jones the next morning, which typically includes labs first, then a meeting with the doc, and then to some kind of chemo treatment. (I have one infusion- Herceptin- I’ve been on every three weeks for YEARS.) 

My mom opted to drive me over and go the the appointments with me, but quickly discovered that I needed to use a wheelchair and the valet parking to get me where I needed to be that day. When Jones came into the exam room and saw me, my first words were, 

“This is bullshit!”

Jones knew from my labs that something was wrong, but seeing me face to face that morning was a jolt.   

“When did you start this pill?” 

“On Saturday morning. I got it at 5:30 on Friday night from some shifty pharmacy down by the docs or something. Have you been out there to the Specialty Pharmacy?! It’s sketchy.”

“You’ve been feeling terrible ever since? Why did you keep taking it?”

“YOU SAID IT WAS SUPPOSED TO SAVE MY LIFE!!! Besides, you worked really hard to get it. And I’m compliant.”

“Well, it’s not working.”

“I mean I feel like shit. Maybe it is.” 

…

“Your lab numbers are all messed up. I’m 95% sure the pill is not causing this, and it’s the cancer growing fast, but we need another scan, and the fastest way to get an MRI of your brain (*NEW ORGAN INVOLVED*) is to send you the Emergency Department. They’re going to make fun of me for sending you to the ER to get an MRI, but that’s the only way I can get you in on a Friday afternoon.”  (For the Record, the ER department said, “We would NEVER make fun of him for this.”)

So Mom & I packed up and drove over to the ER around the corner, at 10 am, knowing that there was ONE OTHER THING on the calendar that day: MATT’S ORDINATION SERVICE AT 7PM. I was supposed to be at a luncheon at noon, but I had to miss it to go do dumb MRI tests instead. 

Of course, others had actual appointments for MRIs and some people planned ahead for their illnesses, so I still had to wait. Meanwhile, they LOADED me up with IV fluids because the labs indicated that my Calcium had gone super-duper high for some reason, taking my creatinine with it, and causing some distress to my liver. This is what was causing my large muscles to misbehave, so the medical staff started just flushing my system with fluids to wash it out.  I got 5 total bags of saline over the weekend. You should see my swollen ankes….

Oh, and meanwhile, my eyes started getting weird. I can’t find a good graphic on the interwebz, but sometimes the circles around my irises starting whirling like a game show. Kind of like this, but yellow. Open, closed. Didn’t matter. Also some mild hallucinations. Might be deyhdration, calcium or brain tumors. Wbo knows?

 

Eventually, it was my turn to get into the one working MRI machine left in the system. Originally, we were hoping for 1:00, but kept being pushed back. I eventually got in around 2:30 pm.  

MRIs are not my favorite scan to have. They’re noisy, you feel like you’re getting hi-jacked in a 1950’s space aged movie of some sort, and you have to lay absolutely still. I had to have 3 in a row, 25 minutes each. One on my spine, one on my shoulders and one on my head. 

Is it weird, that this is pretty much what 

I think of when I think of an MRI experience? 

I’m in the pod. Only, there’s more metal involved.

 Now, lay absolutely still.

For all those who want me to Be Still. Here you freaking go. 

I was a rock star at doing nothing for a couple hours Friday afternoon. 

After all that being still in the midst of the noise, I went back to find my mom (who had found something to eat along the way, I hope), in the ER, and the results returned pretty quickly. 

There is new cancer activity in my brain, and I have to be checked in as a patient for the first time since having cancer (not due to an operation). 

Ooo-kay then.

Meanwhile, the clock is winding down. It’s now after 5 pm., which is when I wanted to be gone. But now I’m admitted to the hospital. 

Oh, and I have cancer in my brain. 

There were some behind the scenes string-pulling by my ER Doc, and Dr. Jones who knew, come hell or high water, I was going to be at that church service that night. They got me out by about 6 pm, which gave me a little time to pull myself together, put on some hair and makeup, grab something to eat (?) and get to the church with about 5 minutes to spare. 

Yup.  Just like that.

The service was really nice. It is an annual Celebration in Life in Ministry ceremony honoring those who have passed away, clergy spouses who have died since last we gathered (felt that one pretty deep this year), those who have retired, etc., on to those who are beginning different chapters in their ministry pathways. 

Matt was the last one up, and he had chosen me to be one of the people who would lay hands on him, along with two very influential mentors in Matt’s life, Pastors Kip Roozen and Steve Trevz.

(unseen: Steve making sure I never fell down the whole time)

We had so many family members at the service, and after it was all over, I realized this was the time to tell everyone all at once. Matt was swept up in a celebratory reception line

Think of it as a conga line if you want. 

It wasn’t, but sounds like more fun. 

They did have robes on.

Mom & I sat down with the rest of the family to say we’re into a new chapter, and now the cancer is in my brain, and there’s going to be TOTAL BRAIN RADIATION soon, and that’s all we know. 

Of course, 

Total World Domination 

comes next

Whew. Let’s call that part one, shall we?  I went back to the house, packed some comfy pajamas and checked into the hospital after 10:30 pm.