Our Story As Best I Can Tell It Now

I don’t know why I didn’t do this first thing, but let me lay out for you as best I can the story of what’s been going on the last few months with regard to all this filthy disease stuff.

  • Over 4 months ago my right leg randomly stopped working. There was no pain, no numbness, nothing particularly alarming. It just flopped. I actually noticed it while walking down main street, I was annoyed at the sound of my foot slapping the ground. I didn’t think much of it and just tried to walk “better” to the extent that I didn’t even think to tell my wife. It was probably a strained muscle (I work out so often right?!). Jess noticed about three weeks later as she claimed I was “lumbering as if i had gained weight”
  • My parents bugged me, my wife lovingly requested me, and finally I saw a doctor. The doc checked me out, had me stand on one foot (poorly), and a battery of other tests that showed that…surprise…I couldn’t stand up well. She began to order an MRI of my lower back because of my single symptom but instead decided to check with a neurologist colleague at OHSU who changed the order to a neck and upper back scan. This change changed everything. Had it not been for that change the tumor would have been completely missed by the scan!
  • And then my clinic did what they seem to do well…they never followed up on the MRI order. In a way it worked well because it allowed us to continue our family trip to Disneyland without any larger impending cloud raining on our adventure. The only negative here was that the week before our trip south I started getting more symptoms. Numbness in my feet, sharp unbearable pains in my back, tingling in my ‘good’ leg, and shooting abdominal pain. In one last effort I tried to see my doctor before we drove to the DL but was informed that she was only seeing women that day…so I laughed, wrote it off, popped lots of Advil, and waited ’till we got back from our trip.
  • Disneyland was awesome and I won’t tell you about it here. The stroller served as my cain and I hobbled around just fine. I had to be somewhat cautious about what rides I went on and only made a bad choice once…or twice. Otherwise, a slow pace, a stroller, lots of pauses, and Advil kept me moving just fine.
  • On the first Monday back from an amazing time in Disneyland I was finally able to sit for an MRI (it only took me calling the MRI office and my clinic to personally make the referral happen). From morning ’till afternoon I laid still for differing MRI machines as they sought a powerful enough one to see through my massive muscles (I think that was the reason). They told me it’d be 4-5 days to get a report but it was that very night that we had a missed call from my doctor…For me this was the first legitimate sign that I actually had something wrong: super rushed results.
  • Tuesday morning we went into our clinic for a follow up appointment to Jones’ swollen lymph nodes and I came along to hear from the doctor instead of over the phone the rushed results of my MRI. I and India in one room with my doctor, Jess and Jones in another room with his doctor, we came out to share the news with each other that I had a spinal tumor and Jones could possibly have lymphoma. Not a great start to the morning. From the lobby Jess left to get Jones’ chest x-rayed and I left for a meeting…and our day was off (though this time with some new knowledge!) My doctor assured me that she had rushed the surgeon referral and that I’d hear from a surgeon within 24 hours to answer any of my questions (because she had very few if any answers) so without any information really (size, type, placement, etc.) I waited to hear from a surgeon.
  • By Wednesday afternoon I had still not heard from a surgeon, so I called and got my surgeons number and rang his office…they’d never heard of me nor received a referral. So I called my clinic and they let me know that it’d be a two week process to get the referral through. I asked to see my doctor (still wanting some basic info and some pain meds) and they said that she wasn’t in but that I could schedule an appointment for June 13th. I asked when she’d next be standing in the office and they said tomorrow…I said that I’d be there in the morning. Instead, actually, we ended up going to the ER so we could talk to a real live doctor and medical staff who might be able to tell us what kind of tumor I had, what the time frame was, and whether or not I could get some real pain killers. Best. Move. Ever. Within a couple of minutes of entering the ER I was rushed to the back and sitting with a great doctor who used to work in neurology. I left about an hour later with some basic (though not detailed) understanding of the type of tumor I had, the types that it could be, and (most importantly) with an appointment to see a real live surgeon the following day.
  • On Thursday the hammer dropped and I was finally able to sit down with my surgeon and find out what’s going on. Quickly I discovered that the chances of cancer were small (10%), that the tumor was actually inside my spinal cord splitting it into two, that I was looking at a 5-6 hour surgery where they’d be shaving off unneeded parts of my spine and filleting my cord open in order to remove the two inch tumor sitting inside. I learned that it’s most likely a nice encapsulated tumor that shouldn’t have fingers or tentacles reaching into my nerves (very very good news!), and I learned that I could be in the hospital anywhere from 1-6 weeks depending on nerve damage. I nearly passed out as he shared the information, but it was truly a relief to finally know what lay before me.
  • The surgery wasn’t scheduled until Tuesday, May 31st in order to give my body time to soak up some delicious steroids that will reduce inflammation and also to allow for a team of technicians to be assembled that will put pins and needles in me during surgery and monitor my nerves so as to keep the surgeon from damaging anything more than what’s already been damaged. Essentially the surgeon will poke around in my spine until he finds the least obtrusive way in to get rid of my little tag-a-long in hopes that he will not do any greater damage to my glorious nerves making my bottom half function.
  • Since then it’s been a process of figuring out what functioning looks like until the surgery. The ‘roids are doing a number on my body and the tumor continues to tweak its way that it bugs me. At any given moment my whole abdomen edging up into my lungs goes numb and swells, my face and jaw ache constantly and swell and go numb as well. My ‘roid rage is coming out through tearing up constantly (read that blog post here) and I’m also kind of angry all the time (which is completely abnormal for me). The sharp pains in my back are pretty much gone thanks to the steroids and vicadin but I’ve found that the more I’m off my back the less of my body and face I can feel, the more my heart races, the more tired I get, and the harder it gets to walk. It’s been a tightrope trying to figure out if I should lay flat and be bored out of my mind and useless or up and moving and make my body function worse…but who cares right ’cause I’m getting this thing cut out in just a couple more days!!!
  • All through this I have felt incredibly blessed. Seriously. What if I had found this stuff out right before Disneyland? I’m glad I didn’t. This could have happened a month or two sooner and messed with me finishing grad school. I’ve got an amazing surgeon who has come recommended by three different medical professionals from three different hospitals! I am constantly (constantly!) being reminded of how loved and cared for I am by my neighborhood community, by my former (and present) church communities, by my family, and friends. I have heard overwhelming reports of people (and whole churches) praying from the Philippines, to Korea, Italy, Uganda, Canada, and all over the US.
  • The story is so much more nebulous with Jones right now. Until yesterday he was chilling with a 105 fever for a week and we’re still waiting to get his lymph nodes biopsied. Yesterday, however, he woke up with one of his larger lymphs extra swollen and harder so now, while I begin my surgery on Tuesday Jess will be scheduling his biopsy. The life of a mom eh!? We’re continuing to pray against lymphoma being a part of his story.

Thank you for the notes, emails, thoughts, and prayers. We don’t really know what’s ahead of us in many ways but we are moving forward with confidence in what God has and is doing in and around our lives. God’s story (as I understand it in the Bible and in my own experiences) is always this mysterious blend of messy life and surprising hope. I feel like we’re living in that tension along with a giant cloud of witnesses that include many of you standing beside us who have walked in messier places, who have experienced hope more fully, and who are inviting us into a way of living that is both beautiful, difficult, and ripe with significance.

peace.

Hubble

Last night I took my son to see Hubble at the Omnimax theater in Portland. It was amazing. At one point we were staring at images 10 frillion* light-years away, we watched stars forming in their embryonic stages, we saw galaxies spread across the universe like legos on my children’s floor. It was amazing and breathtaking. I absolutely loved that the take home message that narrator Leonardo DiCaprio left us with was that the earth is completely unique. We circle one star (the sun) in a galaxy that is filled with billions of stars, in a universe that is filled with billions of galaxies…and yet there is something distinct and unique about earth.

I love that.

As a side note, one of my sons first thoughts after leaving the building was to exclaim “But global warming is washing away our world! Soon all will be desert!” It was nice to see him respond well to my reassuring words of hope for our future. We can make a difference, we can make healthy choices, and our hope is in resurrection not in green technology.

* Frillion might not technically be a number…tbd.

Can a Boy Like the Color Pink?

I enjoyed a discussion last night at my children’s school classroom meeting. The parents were brought up to date on the discussions that were happening in the classroom and we were then invited to engage in a similar discussion amongst the parents in small groups. The topic was discrimination with an emphasis on men’s and women’s prejudice. Can a boy wear pink, can a girl be Spiderman, can a boy play princess, can a girl play football? The children were making these distinctions and were discriminating based on their judgements about what boys can or cannot do (and vice versa with the girls).

The two questions that they asked the parents to discuss were “growing up, what things were you taught were only ‘boy’ things and only ‘girl’ things?” and “what gender specific things do you want to pass on to your child?”

I was surprised at how hard the second question was to answer. Most everything I came up with was actually gender neutral. If I said that I wanted to train my son on how to treat/date a woman/wife with respect is that not just a tangent on the gender neutral idea of learning to value, love, and respect humanity? If I said I wanted to train my son to be a leader would I not see it valuable to train my daughter similarly (especially since she seems to evoke strong leadership qualities even at the age of three)?

Miroslav Volf in his amazing book Exclusion and Embrace suggests that we have very little to differentiate gender roles aside from the body itself. Essentially, according to Volf, we teach our children how to be healthy, whole, loving human beings over and above the gender distinctions that our culture currently buys into.

I’m intrigued to find out what many of you think. Can you identify gender specific elements that you’d like to guide your children into?

My Apologies to the Fam

As far as I am beginning to see it I have two real options. One is to embrace my faith tradition and move forward as a part of a story and the other is to reject it and move forward as an orphan. I did not used to see things with this dichotomy, nor did I care much. More recently I’ve come to a place where I desired to embrace my immediate church history as long as it carried an asterisk that allowed an explanation of how my current expression was different in this way, that way, or another. In other words, even in my semi-embrace of my tradition I have been ashamed of it–embarrassed that people might get the wrong idea, that I might get lumped in with baggage that I have rejected. In reality, however, I question whether or not its even possible to reject your baggage and move forward without it. Even in the act of rejecting it, the baggage that you’ve rejected has caused you to make a specific choice in the present and therefore is a part of both your present and your future.

As I wrote in my previous post, an embrace requires a sense of vulnerability, and it is this exact vulnerability that I desire to avoid with regard to my church background. I am a part of the churches of Christ. I might disagree with some of their general principles and practices but they are my family. I might look different than many of their more common expressions…but not as wholly different than I might have previously thought.

We were not made to be orphans, we were made to inhabit a story, to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. This is where community comes into play. Community and family are never pretty, but they provide a sense of belonging. Our stories provide us a compass for the future, a larger narrative that will help to direct our dreams for tomorrow. Choosing to be an orphan, a lone wolf, or an island is a dangerous game and one that I’m coming to believe leads to loneliness, resentment, and aimlessness.

With that all said I would like to make a formal apology to Campbell, Stone, Raccoon, Lipscomb, Garfield, and even David Robinson. See you next Christmas.

Surgery

Will you all be praying today for my mother-in-law Pam as she goes in for a double mastectomy today at noon. We have only been aware of the cancer for one week now and are praying hard that it has not spread to her lymph nodes. It’s great to be a part of a faith community though! Her church is providing meals (among other things) for her and her husband. And even Jessica and I are being cared for and blessed by Renovatus. We may not be orphans or widows, but i’m pretty sure that James would be willing to define this as pure religion.

peace.