To answer the question I get quite frequently these days: yes, I’m still working. I certainly understand the concern & compassion behind this inquiry, but it always implies an expectation of an impending end to my working days; something I can envision but am avoiding kicking & screaming. Yes, my position with the local school district that has been so good to me affords quite a bit of flexibility; and, yet, quite often I find myself not feeling quite right (either nauseous. or the  “not-quite-right” sensation that indicates seizures may not be far off), and realize that going forward at full peed simply isn’t an luxury I have. 

More than a few times recently, I’ve had to walk that line between acknowledging that my body has legitimate limitations that need to be respected, and hiding behind those “handicaps” as an excuse to get out of things.  It’s a tricky line to walk, as each time I concede to the reality of what my body appears to be able to do. It’s those days when I realize that taking the safe, easy path pushes me one step closer to that day when my answer is “No, I’m not working anymore.” I’m simply not willing to go there voluntarily..

Health check, in summary: Not much change in the past month or so, except for the frequency of seizures (about once a week now, though I definitely have many more of the aforementioned spells of “something not quite right!”; a sensation other seizure sufferers can relate to).

For that matter, I’m not willing to concede to this thing just because pretty much everyone in my stage of the game will have to do so at one pt. or another (glioblastoma generally takes no prisoners). I’ve never been one to like being told what to do; you can blame having older sisters for that.

Coming up is the continuation of my bi-weekly infusions of the $10K drug that’s helping hold this tumor at bay. In two weeks, I have my next scan, which may or may not indicate the effectiveness of my current chemo regimen. Along with prayers for encouraging results, I’m praying that I, along with my family, will be prepared to hear any bad news that might be coming.

Thank you for all the ways you lift me up. It’s humbling to have so many encouraging me in so many ways (through prayer, kind words, selfless giving, also on). I’m struck with what a blessing this ordeal could become to each of you who partner with another in their time of struggle; I believe that, when this happens, even an unfavorable outcome is a victory of sorts, and  should not be considered a failure, or shortcoming, or a sign of an uncaring God who lets things like cancer and tsunamis happen to those He loves. As soon as I become God, I’ll let you know why those things happen; you can do the same for me…

In closing, I’m passing along two videos from a pastor in Texas, Matt Chandler, who has walked a similar journey to mine (only with a different type of tumor, and a flat-out gorgeous wife).  I hope You are encouraged and taught about what it means to follow God in good and bad through his words (which are much more articulate & wise than mine, though his scar’s notes cool).

Matt Chandler

Matt & Lauren Chandler, on “Life Today.”