Wait . . . and See!

“Faith is the reality of what we hope for; it is the evidence of things we cannot see.”
(Hebrews 11:1) 

“We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps.” (Proverbs 16:9)

There are certain subjects in which I’m fairly knowledgeable. For instance, I can have in-depth conversations on music theory. We could dive into all of the seven-note modal scales, and believe it or not, I could name and explain each one – from Ionian to Locrian and all in between. (Okay everyone, I promise this post isn’t going to go any further on that subject!) 

I am a student of the Bible. While I’m no Bible scholar by any means, I have much of God’s Word memorized and I absolutely love to “go deep” into commentaries and word meanings to grasp as thoroughly as possible what the Lord is saying through this amazing treasure He’s given us. 

There are other subjects I am fairly well-versed in. But let’s just say right here, medical issues would not be one of them. I so wish I knew more! As this cancer journey has unfolded, Dick and I definitely have increased our knowledge of various terms and procedures we’d never even heard of before December 4, 2025. But when you are literally placing your life AND quality of life into someone’s hands . . . and you aren’t completely speaking their language, there is quite a trust component required! 

So with that said, let me share about our last two days. The theme has been, “Wait . . . and See”. 

This past Tuesday was our regular oncologist appointment which was followed by labs. Like we did three weeks ago, we drove from Bowling Green to Nashville in time to park the car at St. Thomas Hospital and walk several blocks to Torchy’s Tacos for a wonderful lunch. The weather was perfect, and it felt so good to be doing something fairly “normal”. 

We returned to the medical center in time for the appointment and were ready with the normal list of questions and updates to present to the doctor.
I’ve not needed any pain or nausea meds after the last chemo. 
Could you check my port and just make sure it’s still in place as it should be?
I’ve heard we can request a surgical operative report. Is that true and how do we do that? 
(The sweet receptionist printed the report – all 5 pages – and Dick read it through to me a little later in the afternoon. Suffice to say there were maybe 1 of every 3 words that we couldn’t pronounce or define, but we were able to follow the work flow of the surgery, which was pretty enlightening!)

But the biggest question was this one:
If the surgery was successful (as you have said) and all of the cancer was removed, why have I needed 3 more chemotherapy treatments? 

My gracious, patient, knowledgeable doctor had some very concrete answers that began to settle me into continuing with the plan in place. Dick and I had prayed very specifically just for that – Lord, give us peace with what’s ahead. Help us trust the plan. 

The most important bullet point on my list involved the mild neuropathy I am experiencing in my fingers and feet. Especially because I love to play piano and cello, I don’t want this side effect to go any further. During my chemo treatments, there are two different medicines that are infused. One of them is the neuropathy culprit. The doctor has tried lowering the dosage for this two different times and I reported that sadly, this doesn’t seem to have helped. So he offered another option. It is a medicine from the same family, but has less neuropathy possibilities. Of course, it has other side effects. Okay, what are they? Some swelling and the potential just to “feel worse” (flu-ish) in the first few days following the treatment. To me, as a trade off for neuropathy, that sounded worth it. So that is the path we’ve taken. As I write this, the harder days are immediately in front of me, but this is another time to run to the battle! 

Wait . . . and see.

This feels like a good time to point you to the verses at the top of this post. And to tie in the title a little better. As we try this new drug, we are stepping out in faith that it will do all that it needs to do and that the Lord will keep me strong in these days ahead. We wait (in hope, in trust, in expectation) and we will see (watch what God does)! 

After our appointment, I was sent to have my blood drawn. The protocol following this is to wait about 5-6 minutes for the nurse to report that certain levels are where they need to be in order for me to receive chemo the next day. So far, every lab report has been good and I’ve had no problems proceeding. This time, however, the nurse shared that my platelets were significantly low, and I would not be able to move ahead. She then reached out to the nurse practitioner who reports to my oncologist, and because Dick and I were spending the night in Nashville in anticipation of all going smoothly, the NP suggested that I get some good rest, come back in the morning for a re-test, and we’d go from there. She wanted to see if perhaps they might be “trending upward”. I asked, “Is there anything I could eat tonight, or anything I could do to raise the level of my platelets?” And while dining on a high-iron meal could be helpful, she said there really isn’t anything definitive to make that happen. We did go to a restaurant where I had a small steak, broccoli, and a kale salad. 

But more importantly . . . hey, we know who created my blood. Let’s call on Him! 😊

And once again, it was time to wait . . . and see.

The next morning, we headed back to St. Thomas and in two ways we were walking by faith that the treatment would happen: 
1. Dick doused my port with the numbing cream that needs to be applied an hour before beginning treatment so I’d be ready to go. 
2. We marched into the center loaded up with our totes, backpacks, blankets . . . all the gear, in faith and hope that I would be able to proceed. 

Let me also say that the platelet level on Tuesday was really pretty low. To have a raised level . . . on the next day . . . this would be quite a prayer answered! 

The blood was drawn and I went to the waiting area with Dick to hang out until they called me back for the results. About 20 minutes later a nurse came, not to reveal the results, but to bring us back to the infusion area for treatment! I said, “So my levels were where they need to be?” She said, “I guess so. I was just told to bring you back, so everything must be fine.” We gathered our stuff and happily followed her. Apparently, my platelet level had risen over 12,000 points overnight!

Wait . . . and see! 

Once we found our chair by the window (my favorite place in the room), Hannah, our nurse for the day greeted us and let us know that while the oncology nurses and nurse practitioner had approved treatment for the day, they were still waiting for final approval from the doctor. 

Okay, another speed bump. Wait . . . and see.

We got comfortable and bided our time (about an hour) as we anticipated the news. There were several reasons this was challenging:
1. Dick had applied the numbing cream on my port several hours before, and with each tick of the clock I wondered if it would still be as effective. 
2. In the big picture, if I wasn’t approved for chemo that day, what would the plan be? We really don’t want the schedule to be pushed back any further at this point. We’re ready to finish this season!

But we continued to wait . . . 

Hannah returned with a smile on her face. The doctor gave the green light. We could begin! 

. . . And see! 

So treatment started with the regular 40 minutes of Pepcid, Benadryl, and a steroid, followed by the new drug (which I can say happily, only takes 1 hour to infuse instead of 3 hours that the original medicine required).

A highlight of the day was having my precious sister, Missy, bring me lunch. I told her I was so happy to have her be “part of my world” (yes, I intend for you to begin thinking of that wonderful song from Aladdin.🎵) Missy has been there for me in so many ways through this journey, and it was a blessing to let her experience this part of the story.  

Another highlight was that my new friend, Alice, who got to “ring the bell” during my last visit (see post called “Good Things”) happened to be in the infusion room to take care of some other details. She was just there for a short time, but it was such a happy moment to catch up with my warrior-sister in the Lord. 

This particular Nashville visit felt like we were moving forward, and then stopped, and then moving forward again. Hmmm, sounds like Nashville traffic! Haha! There were some challenging moments through that 48-hour time span, and Dick and I came home a bit more battle-worn. But in the end, as we were called to wait (with hope, with expectation, with trust in what God alone can do) and see (experience His faithfulness through however He chose to answer), I wouldn’t trade those moments. Waiting is definitely not for the faint of heart. But the Lord always, always gives answers and direction . . . and His ways are best. As Dick has said so often, 
“God is never late. He’s always on time.” 
Then, he pauses to add, “He’s never really early.” 😃

“We wait [expectantly] for the Lord; He is our help and our shield. In Him our heart rejoices, because we trust [lean on, rely on, and are confident] in His holy name. Let Your [steadfast] lovingkindness, O Lord, be upon us, even as we have hoped in You.” (Psalm 33:20-22, Amplified)

P.S. – Today is the day after chemo, steroids are still kicking in and I’m feeling pretty strong. Dick and I capitalized on this with a quick trip to pick up some flowers for our outside pots. My favorite section of Lowe’s plant department is in the very back where they have several racks that I call the “sad plants”. These are marked half off and often have lived their better days. But there always seems to be many of these that just require the right amount of sunlight and watering! And if they are salvageable, I enjoy giving them a new home. We picked up several today. Do they look as beautiful as they will look with some care and love in a few weeks? Wait . . . and see!