Remission 101

(A small tutorial on remission) 😃

Until my cancer journey began in December of 2025, there were lots of terms I really didn’t understand. Maybe I had heard the words before? Maybe I hadn’t. These last months have been a time of learning and gaining a brand new vocabulary! Here’s a part of our new language:

Oophorectomy – the surgical removal of one or both ovaries
Hyperthermic Intraperitoneal Chemotherapy – chemo done during surgery, also called a “belly wash”
CA-125 Blood test – a blood test that monitors a protein level and helps determine the presence or degrees of ovarian cancer
Port – a small medical device implanted under your skin (usually on the upper chest) that connects directly to a major vein
Computed Tomography scan (CT scan) – medical imaging that combines a series of X-ray views with computer processing to create detailed, cross-sectional slices of bones, blood vessels, and soft tissues inside your body
Trending higher – the hope that blood numbers will elevate on their own
Phlebotomy – the clinical term for the practice of drawing blood

And yes, this one:

Remission – a temporary or permanent decrease in the symptoms of a disease, or the period during which such a lessening occurs

Remission.

That is a fabulous word Dick and I heard from my oncologist at our last appointment. It’s a word we’ve been hoping to hear at some point, and I’m still pinching myself that this word was used in a sentence to describe me! Here’s a little glimpse of how it happened:

I had a CT scan earlier in the day, and after lunch Dick and I were waiting in an examining room at TN Oncology. The plan was for my doctor to explain the results of the scan, with the hope of hearing that NO cancer would be detected. Not a little bit. NONE. So as you can imagine, we were both on the edge of our seats ready for the news he would bring. The door opened, the doc was shuffling a few papers he was carrying, and he very calmly said, “Well, your scan looks good. You did it.” Because this was said with very little enthusiasm (okay, he was smiling at least) and in a very matter of fact kind of way, I said, “Um . . . if this is the news I think you’re bringing to us, you need to walk back in the door and deliver this with a LOT more joy and excitement!! This is a big deal!” He laughed, and began to share a few more details that solidified the fact that I am currently cancer-free! He continued by telling us that the plan ahead will be for me to see him every 3 months for a while, and then every 6 months after that. And possibly in about 5 years or so, he will declare me completely cured. I’m absolutely believing for that!

We spent a few more minutes asking questions from a list I had compiled over the last weeks, and once we finished getting answers to those I asked him, “Hey, one more question. Can I officially say that I am in remission?” He immediately said, “Yes! Because you are!” (By now, his exuberance had escalated). There were hugs, lots of gratitude, and many “praise the Lords!”

We left his office and I walked down the hall to have labs drawn one last time. After this, Dick and I jubilantly got in the car and headed north to Kentucky.

I’ll take a quick break here to continue with a little more explanation of remission. Here is something remission is NOT: It is not the ending to all of the damage done by chemotherapy. What I mean is, I still have some residual health issues that will take time to get back into a “normal” range.

• There is my stamina, which comes and goes.
• There are blood levels that are much lower than they should be right now.
• There is my lack of hair which I anxiously await the growth of.
• I still have my port and don’t know when that will be removed, but it is a continual reminder of this journey.

So all of that to say, when Dick and I heard the word, “remission”, it did not involve a snap of our fingers to signify that now everything is back to normal. I still have hills to climb.

Back to the story . . .

We were probably 15 minutes away from leaving TN Oncology and my phone rang. On the other end was my nurse practitioner. She said, “Hey, I’m sorry to let you know this, but we just got some of your blood numbers back and your platelets are extremely low. The doctor would like for you to come back on Thursday morning for another blood draw. If you are trending higher (see definition above) you can head home after we see the levels. If you’re not, we’ll need to check you into the hospital for a platelet transfusion.” As you can imagine, when we were flying high on the remission news, this reality of my low platelets wasn’t a welcome announcement. In fact, it kind of knocked me down a little. While I knew that my blood levels were probably waning (something else you learn during chemo treatments), I was ready to take my remission trophy, hold it high for all to see, and sweep some of those low numbers under the rug. Well, that wasn’t going to happen on this particular afternoon.

You’ve probably heard the phrase, “Don’t let Satan rob your joy”. Wow, I was doing my best not to have that happen. We had just heard the most wonderful news and I wanted to stay on that mountain! But other things added to my angst. Another caveat to coming back on Thursday, June 4 was . . . that is Dick’s birthday. And especially in this season where he has done so much and lived so sacrificially, I wanted him to have the best day and know how much he’s loved and appreciated. And leaving at the crack of dawn on your birthday to land in Nashville traffic and then accompany your wife to get her blood drawn and analyzed probably wouldn’t be high on anyone’s list of birthday dreams!

My pronouncement of remission was followed by a dose of reality.

(Sharing the “rest of the story” – we drove to Nashville the morning of Dick’s birthday, my levels had gone up on their own, and we headed back to Kentucky. Besides an early morning, this ended up being easy peasy, and my hubby was duly celebrated!)

I’ve mentioned this once or twice, but something the Lord has really made clear to me through all of this is that there are certain things we are praying for that we literally have no capabilities to help bring to pass! Sometimes, God allows us to participate. You have a headache and you know Ibuprofen will help, so you take some and feel better soon. There’s a “cause and effect”. But with issues such as platelet and white count levels in your blood, there is virtually nothing you can do to bring them to their desired amounts. Only God can do what needs to be done. To sit back and absolutely rest in the Lord without being able to help in any way . . . that’s quite a lesson in trust.

Take a moment and read this familiar passage from Proverbs 3:
“Trust in and rely confidently on the Lord with all your heart and do not rely on your own insight or understanding. In all your ways know and acknowledge and recognize Him,
And He will make your paths straight and smooth [removing obstacles that block your way].
Do not be wise in your own eyes; Fear the Lord [with reverent awe and obedience] and turn [entirely] away from evil. It will be health to your body [your marrow, your nerves, your sinews, your muscles–all your inner parts] and refreshment (physical well-being) to your bones.” (Proverbs 3:5-8, Amplified)

As Dick and I step into this next chapter of remission, there are a couple of takeaways we are being made aware of:

1. As mentioned above, while I have been pronounced cancer-free, my body is still coming back from the effects of chemotherapy and a major surgery. If you’ve read these posts from the beginning, you know that our desire has been to view this disease and the various events we’ve been drawn into as battles that we run towards as valiantly as we are able. Whether it’s been a chemo treatment, a 7-hour surgery complete with Hyperthermic Intraperitoneal Chemotherapy (see above definition), or an unexpected stay in the hospital to fight an infection that was never completely determined, we’ve put on the Armor of God, taken the Sword of the Spirit and dashed ahead purposefully toward the combat. Are we just amazingly courageous people? Heavens no! Our hope has been in what God alone is able to do! And we’ve reminded ourselves that the Lord is fighting these battles anyway. He is our Victor every single time!
2. But to take that analogy further, when a soldier goes to war he knows that there is the possibility that he will be hurt . . . wounded . . . injured. And even when the fighting is over, and the good guys have won, there is collateral damage that needs to heal. Soldiers come back with broken bones, scraped bodies, and physical and emotional trauma. That really is a perfect picture of me right now. The battle is won! But as I come home from the war, it’s time for the healing of my body to really begin.
3. Finally, I’ve mentioned our morning prayer list before – filled with friends and family who are also walking deep, difficult physical journeys. Our prayer lives have grown richer through this season, particularly when it comes to focusing on the needs of others. We’ve seen our hearts expand as we empathize and more clearly identify with how hard and complicated seasons of illness can be. And our prayers will continue! Just as we hope those of you who have prayed for us will keep lifting us up as the Lord brings us to mind.

As I conclude, I’m realizing there are two reasons I felt the need to scribe this particular post. First, to journal my own thoughts and feelings, which has been one of the main purposes for this blog all along. Writing out what the Lord is doing in my heart helps me to process and remember more fully the events of this time in our lives. But my second reason for these reflections is because the Lord is teaching me so much about what it really means to understand what other people are facing. Before my own experience, I think my assumption was that if someone ever told me they were in remission, their journey was done! Close the door. Move on. But I see in my own life that is absolutely not the case. And as I look around to friends of mine who one day will have the opportunity to use the “r” word, I will remember that they still need prayer as they come back from the battles they’ve faced.

So, while we are rejoicing about the absence of cancer from my body, (did I mention I’m in remission???), our story isn’t quite over. In fact, this afternoon the nurse called and said my doc would like for me to come back next week for another phlebotomy (see above definition) to continue checking on my platelet levels. So we’ll make the early morning trek back to Nashville with the hope of bigger numbers, realizing 100% that God will be the one who is making them grow!

Prayers are still needed. The Lord still has lessons to teach us from all of this. I will keep writing blog posts as long as He has the spigot turned on and the words are flowing. Thanks, as always, for being our fellow warriors! Onward Christian soldiers marching as to war with the cross of Jesus going on before . . .

“This is what the Lord says: Do not be afraid! Don’t be discouraged by this mighty army,
for the battle is not yours, but God’s.” (2 Chronicles 20:15)

These are two of the amazing nurses I’ve worked with during my chemo treatments. They are just the best!