Life's final common denominator

One of the gifts cancer has given me is the gift of recognizing my own mortality. None of us knows when our day will come, but when you are faced with an incurable diagnosis, you tend to view life a little differently.

Martin Luther King, Jr. woke up on April 4, 1968, not knowing that it would be the last morning of his life. Yet his writing and his speeches leading up to that fateful day showed that he did, in fact, understand that his life could be cut short at any moment.

Two months to the day before his death, Dr. King gave a sermon called “The Drum Major Instinct.” I listened to this sermon as I walked the beach on this morning, the 58th anniversary of his death.

“Every now and then I guess we all think realistically about that day when we will be victimized with what is life's final common denominator—that something that we call death. We all think about it. And every now and then I think about my own death and I think about my own funeral. And I don't think of it in a morbid sense. And every now and then I ask myself, "What is it that I would want said?" And I leave the word to you this morning.

“If any of you are around when I have to meet my day, I don’t want a long funeral. And if you get somebody to deliver the eulogy, tell them not to talk too long. And every now and then I wonder what I want them to say.

“I'd like somebody to mention that day that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to give his life serving others.
I'd like for somebody to say that day that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to love somebody. I want you to say that day that I tried to be right on the war question.
I want you to be able to say that day that I did try to feed the hungry.
And I want you to be able to say that day that I did try in my life to clothe those who were naked.
I want you to say on that day that I did try in my life to visit those who were in prison.
I want you to say that I tried to love and serve humanity.

“If I can help somebody as I pass along,
If I can cheer somebody with a word or song,
If I can show somebody he's traveling wrong,
Then my living will not be in vain.

If I can do my duty as a Christian ought,
If I can bring salvation to a world once wrought,
If I can spread the message as the master taught,
Then my living will not be in vain.”

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Embracing a new routine. March 13, 2026

Because I am trying to minimize hair loss by utilizing Penguin Cold Caps - The Original Chemo Cold Cap during chemotherapy, today was my last opportunity for the foreseeable future to wash my hair under warm, running water and use styling products and heat to dry it, so I snapped a photo before getting into the shower. What will my hair look like in the weeks ahead?

Because of my experiences in Haiti, I don’t take warm running water for granted. But today was different. I appreciated the warm water running over my head in an entirely different way. Washing my hair was not a task for the morning. It was a luxury to savor.

Ironically, when I went to use the shampoo and conditioner I love so much, both bottles were nearly empty, and I had to shake them down to get enough of each product to adequately clean my hair.

Starting today I am not allowed to use styling products on my hair, but I was told I could add just a bit of nourishment to the ends, so I chose to use this oil that I have loved for many years. (This oil is the reason my hair is always shiny! I am going to miss being able to use it as usual.)

I am allowed to dry my hair with heat one last time today, but I have decided to let it air dry to see how manageable it will be as I adjust to the new normal.

Many things will be completely out of my control in the days ahead, but I’m hopeful that having this one option will give me something on which to focus my time and desire to “do something.”

If I keep my hair, that will be a win. If I don’t, well, that was what was expected anyway.

Countdown to Chemo. Stop #6.

It has been my great joy to be part of the Concilium team for the last three years. Though we do trainings at a number of locations, my favorite place to train is in Sunset, TX, at a camp called Charis Hills.

It was here at Charis Hills in March of 2023 that I decided that I would move my care from Novant to Duke and that I would launch fearisnotmyfuture.com with this first post: The first text - March 2 — Fear is Not My Future. During those two weeks in 2023, I got a different perspective on my diagnosis, and I became determined to find joy on the journey.

Sometimes you find friendship in the most unlikely places, and some people become the family you never knew you were missing. That’s how I feel about my team at Concilium.

As I was planning my Countdown to Chemo, I believed this was a stop that would be good for my soul. I was not wrong.

We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. Romans 5:3-4

I’m headed home today, fully conscious of the fact that in just a few days the Countdown to Chemo will be over, and I’ll actually be starting down a road I never believed I would choose.

There are tears, so many tears, as I think about the days ahead, but the memories of this week are tucked in my heart to bring a smile to my face when needed.

Countdown to Chemo. Stop #1

Did I have a liver resection and extensive debulking surgery exactly one month ago today?  Yes!
Did I run several miles today?  Yes!
Did I then run/ walk several miles today? Yes!
Did I then walk several miles today?  Yes!
Did I finish the WDW half marathon along with Rick? Also, yes! 🙌 (Rachel and Jared were way ahead of us! 😅)
For years I've been saying "There will come a day when I can't do this..."
But I'm happy to report, once again, that day was not today.

It’s been two weeks

I am incredibly happy to share that this week I have “turned the corner” and am basically back to regular everyday life. I’m having to remind myself not to lift heavy objects, and I am trying to be intentional pacing myself so as not to overdo it. But my appetite is back, for most of the day my energy is back (cue an early bedtime), my abdomen is healing nicely, and I can concentrate on tasks (which means I am back to driving). I’ve even started back “running” - gingerly, carefully - since we do have the WDW Half Marathon in just over 2 weeks!

Thank you for all of your kind words, visits, and support during this time.

I had my 3rd Lupron injection on Monday at Zimmer Cancer Center with Dr. Robinson, and I will see Dr. Rossi at the Duke Cancer Center on Monday, December 29. I am hopeful we’ll be able to agree on a plan of action for 2026. I am going to remind her that I want to live, not simply be alive. I believe there’s a huge difference in those two things.

No, Baby Clara is not here yet, but every day brings us closer to her arrival, and we will be seeing her very soon!

This morning I read Luke 2:19, “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” The question from Catching Whimsy asked, “With all the mysteries and unknowns in your life, what would it look like for you to treasure up in your heart the ambiguity God allows?”

I’ll be pondering that question in the days ahead.

Merry Christmas!

Saturday morning update

Yesterday was full of family and friends, and this morning Rick offered to take me down to the beach to see the sunrise. I felt well enough to walk for a few minutes, as well, and that was wonderful.

Baby Clara isn’t here yet!

I am not having to take as much pain medication, and I feel like my energy is coming back. I have to remind myself I went through a fairly substantial procedure just three days ago, and I should rest and not do too much just yet.

“The faithful love of the LORD never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.”

— Lamentations 3:22-23

One last delivery

The time has come. Rick and I will head to Durham in about an hour, and I have packed as much as I could into today. I am happy to report I was able to go for a run, then a walk on the beach early this morning. Beyond that, all Christmas presents are wrapped and under the tree, and laundry is washed and put away. I made one last bank transaction for Haiti Awake, and I even had a chance to do one more delivery for Moe’s. (No matter how well surgery goes tomorrow, I won’t be able to lift much until sometime in January. Therefore, I’ll be out for a while.)

This is what was waiting for me at work when I arrived. It was so unexpected. My heart was touched. Nearly six years ago when we stopped at Moe’s one night for dinner and the GM asked, “Hey! Are you interested in a little part-time job?” I’m so glad I said, “Yes!” I enjoy getting out in the community, meeting people, and bringing them food. (Who doesn’t love Moe’s?)

If you had asked me what I needed today, I would never have guessed this was it. But it was.

The August 29 MRI and the Current Plan

On Friday, August 29, I drove up to Raleigh for a DEXA scan and an MRI of my liver. I have not gotten results on the DEXA scan yet, but I do have the MRI results, and I have spoken to Dr. Rossi’s office regarding them.

I actually got the MRI results Friday afternoon, but I wanted to speak to someone at Duke before sharing, especially since the MRI noted: “Musculoskeletal-subtly enhancing marrow replacing diffusion restriction lesion in the right L1 vertebral body is suspicious for metastasis.” This is the first time there has been any indication of spread to that area of my body, and I questioned whether this would change the recommended treatment we had talked about after the July PET scan. (It does not.)

To keep it simple, here is what we currently know and here is the current plan. There are many unanswered questions, but hopefully those will be answered to the best degree possible after the October 10 appointments.

October 10 - PET FDG SCAN and Pre-Op Visit with Dr. Rossi.

October 15 or 22 - Laparoscopic surgery at Duke.

The Goal- Minimally invasive surgery

Recovery - I have been told not to schedule anything from October 15 through November.

Treatment options for after surgery are being discussed, as noted in a recent post. Much will depend on the PET results on October 10 and how the surgery itself goes.

I am thankful for those of you who continue to pray. Please pray that my medical team and I will be able to discern together the best course of treatment after surgery.

I’m especially thankful for friends who, though eager to know these results themselves, have given me time and space, offering to “check the blog” instead of asking me to text them directly. A little bit of understanding right now is incredibly helpful.

And to end on a positive note, I am thankful for my friend - Rachel Dobrowolski. We were able to coordinate schedules between my two appointments, and spending time with her was refreshing and encouraging. To know Rachel is to love her.