The Joy of Grace - A Catharine health update

Firstly, I want to apologize for the messy formatting in the previous post. Somehow photos interfered and even though I previewed it and tried to fix mistakes, I guess I am not an expert on Blogger.

Now, about how I am experiencing grace this week. (With some suffering included.)

My brother Ben arrived on Tuesday for a ten day visit. Chris picked him up at the airport, brought him home for a tearful reunion (I cried, he teared up), and a shower. Then we left for Houston for my new set of tests and meeting with Dr. Trent, one of the worldwide experts of my type of cancer. We traveled well and talked and talked and talked.

In Houston, I went to all the different places where I had to have tests, and this is where the suffering comes in. The wait times were interminable. I had to wait three hours for the CT scan, and the doctor was two hours behind. The administration of the hospital has certain rules about scheduling apparently, that does not allow enough time for patient treatment according to how much time it really takes to treat each patient. Why, I can't imagine. But it creates a situation where VERY sick people have to sit for hours in uncomfortable waiting rooms and wait. And wait. And wait.

Anyhow, the grace really kicks in here. When I saw Dr. Trent he had good news about my tumors. For the CT scan, I have to drink two bottles of barium fluid - thick white stuff that tastes like chalk. Apparently this fluid spreads throughout one's intestines and allows the intestines and some organs to show up on the scan. Then the radiologist puts me on a bed and a thick ring that contains the laser beam moves over me. At specific points I have to breathe in deeply and hold for about five to ten seconds while the laser scans my body. At some point, they inject what they call contrast into my veins. It is apparently slightly radio active and it interacts with abnormal cells to make them show up better on the scan.

Dr. Trent said the scan showed that the tumors had shrunk slightly since March when I last had a scan in Houston. More significantly, the tumors showed significantly less interaction with the contrast. In his words, the tumors seem to be "shutting down." In a word, they are dying.

I thank God for that good report. It is grace in it's purest form.

Another thing the doctor suggested, was to lower my chemo medicine dose. He was concerned for the side effects I am experiencing. Apparently the sore mouth and cracking skin is part of the side effects of the toxic chemo. So, I am to suspend taking the chemo (currently three capsules a day) for a week, then take one capsule a day for a week, and up to two capsules. It seems that I may be able to continue for a considerable time on two capsules. He has great confidence that the side effects might be mitigate that way. I am hopeful.

Grace is defined as "unmerited favor." Miriam-Webster dictionary defines favor as:

Verb: Feel or show approval or preference for:

Noun: An attitude of approval or liking.

So I wanted to make sure you understand that though I talked about the cost of grace, we cannot earn it in any way. I know it is difficult to get your head around. It seems a contradiction in terms: You cannot earn grace, but it is costly. I did not earn God's grace, I never could.

He gives it freely.