Friendship
Last week, I was deeply blessed by visits from three men who live in different parts of the country. One of them wrote this, and with his permission, I am sharing his kind words with you.
“Greater love has no one than this, than he lay down his life for his friends” John 15:13 NKJV
Much has been written on this passage, but I am learning a more simple yet deeper understanding of applying Jesus’ words to my life.
I recently traveled to visit a “friend” who is in a struggle that is beyond her ability to manage on her own. This friend of mine is one of the most capable and driven individuals I have ever met, yet the Lord has strategically positioned her to rely fully on Him and those “friends” and family that He has provided for her.
Upon my arrival, my friend’s lifelong college buddy, Kim, picked me up at the airport, drove me to the hospital, and sat patiently while I sat visiting my friend. Although we had never met, we shared a kinship in our common love for our friend. Kim had dropped everything in a very active life with a family and responsibilities of her own to sit with our friend, help manage the flow of visitors, be a sounding board for ideas and future plans, and look out for the best interests of our friend. Her selfless actions made this verse come to my mind in a vivid, real life, example of what Jesus meant when he defined the greatest form of sacrificial love.
Few of us will ever be called upon to “take a bullet” for a friend or push someone out of the path of an inbound train. But just as Jesus commanded us to “deny ourselves, take up our our cross daily and follow him” (Luke 9:23), He also wants us to “daily” lay down our lives for the people he has put into our path. Living this out means dropping our own agenda to be present for another person and sometimes even allowing others to show us our own selfishness when we think we have a handle on life’s frustrations.
I learn that I should seek out this level of sacrificial friendship in the common events, “daily”, as well as in the major storms of life. I went to visit my beloved friend, to encourage and be present, and returned home with a new perspective and a new friend.
“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love” 1 Corinthians 13:13
Friends for the journey
There are friends for the day and friends for the journey, and cancer has a way of clarifying who your people really are.
Today's update 7/31
Greetings from Room 216. I'm still here, but I'm not complaining. The care I'm receiving is exceptional, and pain management is going well.
I continue to have the best visitors and the best nursing care. I have nothing about which to complain.
I am becoming an expert at ambulance transports, and once again yesterday's transport was exceptional.
As I first wrote in 2023, I do not know what the days ahead will bring, but I am determined to live them with as much grace and enthusiasm as possible.
Thanks for joining me on this journey.
Today’s update 7/30
Yesterday was a successful day in achieving access to both interventional radiology and radiation oncology. Both procedures appear to be having palliative effect already.
A fun story from the transport to the radiation oncology center. The EMT attending me asked, “Do you go to the beach each morning to look for shells and other stuff?” Of course, the answer is yes! and it was at that point that we realized we knew each other. My EMT was Tahlia of Oti by the Sea, and last Christmas she did some gifts for my family members from pieces I had collected at Wrightsville Beach.
We’ll see what today brings. Discharge orders, maybe?
Today’s update 7/29
Good morning.
Yesterday ended up being a much busier day than anticipated. Between visits from friends and practitioners, getting a Fentanyl patch, and an unexpected trip to radiation oncology for my first radiation treatment, I had little free time from early morning until about 9 pm.
I could not be more thankful for Dr. Robinson. I am so glad I brought my care back to Wilmington.
Dr M is the kindest physician and has coordinated my care in a way that takes my wishes into account.
Today I am waiting on an OR time for interventional radiology. My procedure will be performed by Dr. Eric Keller who is widely respected and admired for his work here at Novant. You can learn more here:
I had hoped for more visits with friends yesterday, but when the team decided to add the patch and radiation off-campus (my first ambulance ride!) to my schedule, we unfortunately had to cancel some plans. I’m so sorry for that.
My first ambulance ride of my life. You’re never too old to do something new. Ha!
My college friend, Kim, is here, helping me manage my phone, etc. If you want to drop by for a visit or have any questions, we would appreciate you coordinating with her first - (864) 304 6751. She has been a Godsend.
Lindsay is kind and caring and knowledgeable. I’m so thankful for her.
Gabby has been such a phenomenal caregiver. She’s off work the next few days, and I am going to miss her.
Today’s prayer request is for coordinated visits with radiation and interventional radiology and efficacy from the treatments I am currently receiving. What a wonderful team I have here at Novant. I am on a wonderful floor, and I have had the best care I could possibly ask for.
Today's update 7/28
Good morning from room 216. It's a new day.
We had a few issues with pain management last night, but we're back on the right track this morning.
I'm scheduled for interventional radiology tomorrow, as well, to block certain nerves in an effort to provide even better relief.
We’re hoping I'll be discharged by the end of the week.
I had a fun visitor yesterday. His name is Fenway, and he's been a hospital volunteer for 14 years.
Have a lovely day, Everyone!
Today’s update 7/27
Yesterday was a gift. Pain was under control, and I was able to spend considerable time with family and friends. It was a sweet and productive time.
However, my pain returned with a vengeance overnight, and we are working this morning to find ways to manage that. Please be in prayer with us.
Immunotherapy, Infusion 2, 7/20
I'm sitting at the infusion center, waiting for my next treatment of immunotherapy. I feel awful.
This morning Dr. Robinson gently reminded me that I can decline treatment. His compassion was evident as he looked me in the eye and acknowledged both the pain I am living with and the uncertainty of the road ahead. I could be going through all of this with no measurable impact on the disease, just as chemotherapy ultimately had no effect.
I am now making decisions in a place where there are no guarantees, only hopes and possibilities. Today feels heavy.
As I sit in this infusion chair, I find myself asking, “Can my greatest pain become the place where God accomplishes His greatest work in and through me?”