"To talk of many things...."

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

from Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll

That bit of nonsense sums up what things have looked like since I last wrote.  Here's what has happened since then:

• Tuesday, Oct. 27: The Santa Fe radiation oncologist got clearance from the Albuquerque radiation oncologist for me to be seen there.  His office faxes all paperwork to them.  He calls to let me know, and told me that if I didn't hear from them by noon Wednesday, I needed to call them.  He doesn't know exactly when radiation will start in Albuquerque, but doesn't expect that it will occur before Monday at the earliest.  So I am able to tell my speech and debate team that I will be able to go to the tournament this weekend - and we are all overjoyed at that news!!
• Wednesday, Oct. 28: By noon, I have not heard from the Albuquerque radiation oncologist, but I can't call since I'm too busy with school stuff.  So, after school, I call.  The receptionist is a bit snippy and tells me that everyone is working on this together - almost a "Don't call us, we'll call you" attitude.  When I tell her that I am only doing what my Santa Fe radiation oncologist told me to do, she softens a bit, but keeps up the attitude as I ask more questions.  I tell her that as a school-teacher, I need to make arrangements, which is the other reason I'm trying to get confirmation for when we will begin.  She softens a bit again and tells me she will write that in the information so the doctor will know.  But her final words are a repetition of "We're all working on this together - Santa Fe, Albuquerque, and the insurance."  So all I can do is leave it at that.
• Thursday, Oct. 29: No phone call, but given her attitude yesterday, I am not calling back....yet.
• Friday, Oct. 30: By noon, still no call.  I am in Albuquerque with my speech/debate team, and while we have a bit of down-time in the hotel, I call the Albuquerque office to find out the status of things.  She is delighted (truly, that's how her voice sounded) to tell me that "we are waiting for your doctor to send us his reason for referral - why he believes you need to be treated here.  Once we have that, we can talk to insurance."  So, I call the Santa Fe office, who are peeved (because my doctor had already sent everything required....).  They tell me that they will resend, and I should expect to hear something by Monday.  They call later that afternoon to confirm that they have sent the required document, but it has been sent snail mail, so they will be in touch Monday once they know that it has been received in the Albuquerque office.  They don't say that it's been sent certified, but given the attitudes (ahem) that have been going on between the two offices, I am guessing that is the reason it wasn't faxed (as it had been previously).  So, I continue with the tournament and put this out of my mind since I can't do anything until Monday anyway.
• Saturday, Oct. 31: Finish the tournament and head home.  Get in about 11:00 p.m.  My affected breast started bothering me sometime in the afternoon, but it felt more like a bruise in the beginning.  I thought maybe I'd hit myself somehow, and didn't give it much more thought.  But on the way home, it has begun to hurt more, and when I discreetly manipulate it (we're on a dark bus), it feels hard.  When I get home, I check, and it is red and warm to the touch.  I call my medical oncologist who sends me to the ER (we don't have Urgent Care in Los Alamos, and our ER is really like an Urgent Care due to the size of the town and the lack of need for much ER service, thankfully - they told me when I got there that I was the only person who'd come in all night).  They check, and agree that something isn't right.  They do a sonogram, and it's clear that it's an abscess.  They tell me that they don't have a surgeon on call at night, but the hospital in Santa Fe does.  They tell me I can either wait in LA until morning or I can head to SF that night and have their surgeon take care of it right away.  Given how fast it seems to have come up, they advise going to SF, and Steve and I agree.  We stop by the house to pick up a few things, then head to SF.  LA has given us paperwork to get us right in, and that is what happens.  I also remember on the way down that the affected breast had started to swell a couple of days before, although I didn't think of it that way at the time, and it didn't hurt or look weird (it just looked perkier).  We do make a point of telling the ER staff in SF this so that it is clear this wasn't something that happened suddenly today.  Their surgeon also does a sonogram, and agrees that it is an abscess; however, due to my cancer, she is uncomfortable doing what she would traditionally do - a needle aspiration - particularly if there is any skin infection.  She calls their on-call general surgeon for a second opinion, and he agrees that the best thing to do is to wait until morning when he will be in and we can do a "real" surgery.  So, I get to spend the night in the ER in SF - and I still wind up having to do the surgery Sunday morning rather than Saturday night.  Steve is given a cot and I'm given a hospital bed; they start my IV so I'm ready for the next morning.  We get to see the time change (something neither of us had ever been up to do before), so we see 1:30 a.m. twice :)  We sleep as well as can be expected when you are in a city ER.
• Sunday, Nov. 1: Sometime early, my medical oncologist stops by to check on me.  She agrees that it looks like more than a skin infection.  She's glad I'll be having surgery, and tells me she'll check on me again Monday.  A bit later, the surgeon comes in to introduce himself.  He tells me there is one other case ahead of mine, and once it is done, I will go in.  He also tells me that he will be sending a sample of tissue and of the liquid to the lab for testing.  He expects that we'll have those results by Wednesday.  Around 10 a.m., they wheel me to the operating prep room.  I meet the OR nurses and anesthesiologist, and the surgeon comes out to check on me.  Not long after, they wheel me in, and I transfer myself from the hospital bed to the operating table (that was pretty weird - I've always been out when I've gone into the OR before).  Not long after, I'm out - as in, I am asleep.  Next thing I know, I'm waking up in the recovery room.  Then they are wheeling me to my room.  I'm still pretty out of it, but our youth pastor has picked up Nate and they are there (I recognize their voices, but can barely keep my eyes open).  They brought Steve supper and me a Frosty (yeah!! - thanks, Ben and Kristin-who-had-to-wait-in-the-car!) since I've been told I can eat whatever I want, and when I had the lumpectomy, the Frosty was what tasted good.  It tastes really good again this time.  We visit for a bit, then Ben and Nate leave.  Steve sticks around a bit longer, but he goes home soon after they leave.  I spend the night in the hospital after contacting all necessary parties at school - my roommates (I share two rooms at school), my staff, and the parents of my students so that they don't panic when I don't walk in the next day.  Steve had already been in contact with the admin secretary while I was in surgery so that she could get a sub lined up for me - the surgeon had told me before I went in that I should take the week off.  I was particularly worried about the kids who had been at the tournament with me - to see me whole and hearty on Saturday and then hear I went to the ER and wouldn't be at school all week - well, if I were in their shoes, I'd wonder and worry.  So I wanted them to hear it straight from me that I was fine, that the tournament didn't cause this, and that they shouldn't worry.  After those emails go out, I go to sleep, and while I sleep better than I did in the ER, I have people coming in to check vitals on a regular basis, and because of the IV, I have to go to the bathroom quite a bit.  So it wasn't a super restful night.
• Monday, Nov. 2: The surgeon's nurse practitioner comes in and asks if I want to go home.  I'm glad to hear that it will be today since they'd told me it could be as late as Wednesday when we talked before surgery.  She leaves to go begin getting the paperwork ready.  While we were talking, the SF radiation oncologist's office calls and leaves a message to let me know they have spoken with the Albuquerque office, and they have confirmed that the letter has been received.  My pastor and one of the youth interns stops by, and brings me a London Fog from Starbucks (thanks, Doug!!).  We visit for a bit, but get interrupted by one of the nurses who needs to get vitals.  After they leave, Steve arrives with my clothes, and we continue to wait for the paperwork to get done.  They've had me on antibiotics all night, and the RN wants me to get in one more dose before I leave, so she puts one more on the IV pole and tells Steve and I to order lunch.  My medical oncologist stops by again, and she says no radiation until this is completely healed....meaning, it will be several weeks, but no one knows what that means specifically yet (more on that in a minute).  She tells me she will make sure the SF radiation oncologist knows so that he can contact the Albuquerque radiation oncologist.  While we wait for the nurse practitioner, a woman comes by to play harp for us.  It is absolutely beautiful!!  We visit with her for a bit, and find out that she is a Believer who uses this as a ministry.  She was taught how to play harp as a ministry by an organization in Montana - and now I know what I want to do when I retire!!  After she leaves, the nurse practitioner shows up with a ton of stuff to show Steve and I how to pack my wound.  I had heard of packing a wound before, but never really thought about the specifics before now - may I say: it is gross!!!  Steve is taught to pack my wound, since she begins the packing but has him do it so she can observe and make sure he does it right.  She makes sure we have an appointment with "wound care" later in the week.  This is the follow-up appointment, rather than coming in to see the surgeon again.  She tells us that they specialize in wound care and they will know much more about how to care for this than the surgeon's office.  I am both amazed and saddened to think that there is a enough business that there can be a business that specializes just in caring for people's wounds.  That appointment is scheduled for Thursday.  I am given enough packing supplies to last until that appointment, a prescription for pain meds, and told to go home and rest.  So other than a stop at the pharmacy, we head home.  
• Tuesday, Nov. 3-Wednesday, Nov. 4: I rest - a lot!!  I spend most of Tuesday sleeping, and then expect to get lots of grading and catching up done on Wednesday.  That doesn't happen - I am still too tired.  So I do very little other than rest (and get my wound repacked each night - the gross factor doesn't improve with repetition).  The radiation oncologist from Albuquerque does call on Tuesday - they apparently had not been called, and were not aware of all that had happened.  They agree that the radiation cannot happen until this is completely healed, so they tell me to call once I am cleared to come and we'll set up the initial consultation appointment.
• Thursday, Nov. 5: We go to the Wound Care clinic in Santa Fe.  They check, and we've done well with our packing.  However, they want us to use less of the packing so that we don't press on healthy tissue and/or prevent the wound from healing.  They give us enough supplies to last until the "box-o-supplies" arrives early next week as well as a wash they want us to use after unpacking and before repacking.  It smells like bleach, but she tells us it has no bleach in it.  We start this process that night.  We are told that we will continue to come down once a week until the wound is healed, and they tell us we can go ahead and make the initial consultation appointment with the radiation oncologist for mid-December with the understanding that we can push it back if needed.  We make our next appointment with Wound Care for next Friday.  They tell me I can go back to school on Monday.  They also have the results of the lab work - the liquid was a bacterial infection, and would not have cleared up with antibiotics alone.  They used the word "staph" but were quick to tell me that "it's not the staph you're thinking of."  Later, they ask if I'd been in contact with anyone who'd been in the hospital or if I'd been to the hospital - so all I can think is, "about that 'not the staph you're thinking of' thing....."  No one knows how this happened,  The best theory anyone has been able to come up with is that there was some kind of cavity (likely small) after the lumpectomy that filled with fluid which then became infected and became the abscess.  I do know that there was a hard lump in that area from almost the beginning; I've had every medical professional I've spoken with to check it - and they all said it was scar tissue.  It may have been, but that's where the abscess occurred.....  The tissue sample came back normal.
• Friday, Nov. 6-today: I rest and do very little.  I worked on school stuff yesterday (because I am going back, and there are some things that must be ready when I arrive).  I feel very behind, but hope that having this Wednesday off for Veteran's Day will help with some catch-up.  It will be good to see the kids again tomorrow, and get back to some semblance of normalcy....although, my "normal" is continuing to look a whole lot like the nonsense of Carroll's rhyme.  

So - a very long entry to let you know how crazy these past two weeks have been.  As things stand now, I have no idea when radiation will start.  If it can start by mid-December, that will still likely put me having radiation into the beginning of the Spring semester in January.  As disappointed as I was to have to deal with having radiation during school this semester, having to deal with it at the end of a semester is much easier than having to deal with it as the beginning of a semester.  I am hopeful that this will heal fully and quickly so that I am able to start radiation sooner rather than later and not have to have radiation once school starts again in January (that's a prayer request!).  But whatever happens, I have the assurance, and reminder, that God is in control.  Here's what I read in my Bible study this morning:

I've been going through Liz Curtis Higgs' wonderful study called It's Good to Be Queen about the Queen of Sheba.  Each week, we've had a phrase starting with "It's Good to Be...." and an adjective to complete that phrase.  The adjectives were pulled from the passage we were studying that week.  The one for today, the last one, was "It's Good to End Well."  And boy, did I need to be reminded of that!!  I have been pushing so hard for this cancer-treatment-stuff to all be over already, and I've questioned the Lord pretty vigorously this past week on "What are you doing??" since I had come to a place of surrender and acceptance with the radiation.  This latest bit of "cabbages and kings" seemed like a lot of nonsense and a bit of a step back.  But in today's study, I was reminded of several things.  Liz had sectioned this chapter off by giving some of the different definitions of what it means to "End Well."  One of those was "Ending Well means Knowing God is in Control."  Two comments were "Peace is knowing the results are in the Lord's hands," and "Each step of my life, I was exactly where I was supposed to be."  I chewed on these two truths: since the results, even of this set-back, are in the Lord's hands, then I can have peace if I choose to rest in that knowledge; I might even redefine this and not call it a set-back if I'm fully trusting that truth.  The key, once again, is in my choice (that refrain is getting old - do you think maybe I'm not listening as well as I thought I was listening?  As a teacher, I know you don't have to get a reteach if  you learn the lesson the first time, so maybe I'm not learning this lesson as well as I thought I was...).  The second statement hit closer to home - I met so many people this past week who were a blessing to me, but for whom I was also able to be a blessing.  I listened to so many stories this past week from people I never would have met otherwise.  All of them proclaimed themselves to be Believers, starting with, "I don't know how you believe, but..." and continuing to tell me their story.  Each had met my Lord, and each had a beautiful story to tell.  But each had an area of doubt they were struggling with, and as I listened, I was able to encourage them as well.  I thought at the time it was odd that they were sharing these things with me - someone they'd just met - but God obviously had a purpose in my being there to listen and to encourage them.  So although I was not happy with having to deal with this at this time, I can see how I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Surrender - that's the overarching lesson God seems to be trying to teach me.  It's a tough one to learn.  Particularly when it sometimes seems as if He is asking me to surrender to things that appear to be nonsense to me.  "But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise...." (I Corinthians 1:27).   

I confess to being completely confounded, Lord.  Lately, You've chosen to use a lot of what looks like foolishness to me to bring me to a place of surrender.  But I know that nothing You do is without purpose, so if You need me to talk of cabbages and kings for a while, I'll learn to rest in that.  I surrender all, even my desire to speak of things that make sense.  Your thoughts are higher than mine, and I trust Your purpose, even when talking nonsense.   

Learning, again, to surrender,
Sherri