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.

Today’s update 7/26

I feel like a new person, and I am a little less yellow than I was prior to surgery.

The GI surgical team was able to achieve partial success yesterday. The right bile duct is blocked with a tumor, so they could not get a wire through, but they were able to get two stints into the left side.

We are hopeful that this will allow my liver numbers to improve and alleviate some of the pain I’ve been experiencing for weeks.

I’ll most likely be here in the hospital for a few more days, but I am looking forward to getting home and back to life sooner than later.

This morning I've been out of this bed more than in it and taking laps around the unit with my IV pole in tow.

Glwa pou Bondye.

Today's update - 7/25

I am still hospitalized. It's after midnight here in Wilmington, and later today I am scheduled to undergo a comfort treatment that will hopefully relieve some of the discomfort I'm feeling from the disease in my liver.

Endoscopic retrograde cholangio pancreatography is the procedure. When stents are placed it's often written as "ERCP with biliary stent placement."

The scope goes down the esophagus, through the stomach, into the duodenum, and then a catheter is threaded through the ampulla of Vater backward ("retrograde") up the bile ducts. Contrast is injected to image the ducts, and a plastic or metal stent can be left in place to hold open a blockage.

Please pray that this procedure is successful in offering the palliative care I currently need.

I'm in the hospital

Due to uncontrolled nausea, I came to the Emergency Department early this morning.

My doctors have made the decision to admit me.

I'll update more when I can.

Radiation Scheduled

The last few days have been extremely difficult for me. I’m dealing with symptoms we’re having trouble controlling.

I was able to meet with radiation oncology yesterday, and if I am strong enough, we will start that treatment on Monday, July 23.

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?”

I’m going to continue to live

Good morning, Everyone.

It's now been a few days since I went to the ER and finally had to admit the pain I was experiencing was more than I could push through and that over-the-counter medications were no longer enough. The CT scan performed that morning confirmed what my body had already been telling me: the disease is progressing.

In many ways, this was a turning point.

For the first time, I had to acknowledge that this season has changed. I have always avoided prescription pain medication whenever possible, but I also realized something important. Pain management isn't simply about reducing suffering. It's about protecting the things that matter—the things that make me who I am for as long as I am able. Walking Wrightsville Beach in the morning. Heading to Florida over the weekend to work with some of my favorite people at Concilium. Spending time with people I love here in Wilmington. Enjoying the gifts God continues to place in front of me each day.

That realization has been freeing.

Over the last few days, I've been asking the Lord one simple question: "Father, what does faithfulness look like with the time I have?"

I don't know how many days lie ahead. None of us really do. But I know this: today is a gift.

So I'm going to keep writing. I'm preparing my first devotional, Fear Is Not My Future, for publication. I'm continuing work on the second book in the series. I'm making plans for August, September and even Christmas because I would rather prepare with hope than wait with fear. I'll continue to travel as I am able. I'll keep showing up at Wrightsville Beach each morning for as long as my body allows.

I'm going to continue to live.

On the home page of my website are these words: "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."

I needed those words when I wrote them in 2023. I need them even more today.

They remind me of the heart posture I chose when my first recurrence was diagnosed, and they continue to call me back to that same place of trust. I'm also understanding more fully, day by day, that faithfulness is not measured by how long we live. It is measured by how we receive and steward whatever the Lord places in our hands while we have time.

That is what I want to do. I want to steward my life well.

Thank you for praying for me. Thank you for encouraging me. Thank you for allowing me to share my thoughts with you.

I continue to believe what I have believed from the beginning.

Fear is not my future.

Christ is.