Oklahoma (Not) Okay

I have just returned from a whirlwind 27-hour road trip to Oklahoma City.  I am sitting in my quiet-for-now house, absorbing the familiar surroundings and a little bit wishing I had never left in the first place.

I left Texas, my Texas yesterday morning with my mom.  Can I just take a minute and tell you how great my mom is?  She holds down a full-time job in which she pours herself into other people.  But...she is Mom and Nana first.  We all know it.  She insists on attending each doctor visit, regardless of time, location, or convenience.  She has traveled literally across the country with me on the search for a cure, and she is my #1 cheerleader.  She has lived in my home, taken care of my family, and stepped in for me when I simply could not do for myself.  She created an Allyson playlist just for this trip with my favorite tunes, and we listened to it going and coming.  There is no one who gives more, expects less, or has a bigger heart.  I love you, Mom.

Back to the story....Mom and I drove the 3 hours to OKC and made it there with a little time to spare.  We checked in to our hotel and I managed to get in a quick nap before we were in the car again headed for the OU Medical district.  I have to say this for Oklahoma:  The CT scan I did there was the easiest, most pleasant (if such a thing can be pleasant) radiology experience that I have had.  The staff was efficient and kind, AND, instead of the terrible barium drink, they only asked me to drink a regular bottle of water before the test.  It made for a much, much more comfortable exam.  I was in and out of there in record time.  I didn't leave empty-handed, either!  The sweet nurse loaded me down with a fresh bottle of water, a granola bar (to make up for not eating for 6+ hours), and a thank you card.  Texas, take note! There IS a better way!

We had been back in our hotel room for just a few minutes when my phone rang.  It was the research nurse calling with results.  The scan had disqualified me from the clinical trial.  Just like that, I'm out.  Yes, there is cancer in there.  But instead of being one (or more) large masses, there is what is known as "papillary smattering."  It means that there are lots of small pieces of cancer just...everywhere.  Monster is having a block party.

I couldn't help it.  I cried.  I have found that the longer the fight wears on, the less I tend to cry.  I suppose I'm used to it.  But never before have I wanted for the cancer to show up bigger or plainer on a scan...and the one time I need it to, it does THIS?!?  The news was more than my heart could bear.

We spent a long and noisy night in OK, thanks to a rambunctious group of retirees who stopped in during their bus tour  (Tour of what?  I am still wondering.) and the truck stop next door to our hotel.  Neither of us was sad to pack up and check out.  On our way out of town, we stopped back in at the medical building so I could retrieve the CT disc and copies of the report.  The research nurse met me in the lobby and provided this tidbit of encouragement:  There will be a site for the MEK162 study opening in several months closer to my home.  By that time, perhaps my cancer will have grown to meet the criteria size.  

Yes, and perhaps the farmer and the cowman should be friends.

I did not cry when I finally saw the Red River in the rearview mirror.  I would sum up my visit to Oklahoma by borrowing the words of a friend I once traveled with:  "This state is a complete disaster."  (**No offense, of course, to my friends with OK ties.  You can still feel free to eat your fried pies, cheer for your football team, and house your law firms inside your churches.)

So what now?  Good question.  Before I even left Oklahoma, I called Dr. F's office.  He again offered to set up chemotherapy, just to give me something to try.  I again declined, noting that if I have any more chemo--no matter where or what--I will have zero chance of EVER getting into the MEK162 trial, as I have already maxed out what they allow in that area.  Not to mention that any chemotherapy that is available to me as a "standard of care" I have already taken and found no success.  He was not surprised.  Dr. F suggested that I might try calling MD Anderson again, essentially starting over there with another doctor.  MDA has clinical trials that are exclusive to their organization.  For that reason, I will take his advice.

When Goliath was little, he loved to play hide-and-seek.  I would hide, usually with a baby brother on my hip and Abby Dog following closely, and he would look for me.  Some days I would deviate from the usual hiding places--in the shower, behind the laundry room door, underneath a blanket in the closet--and he would have to work harder to find me.  If it was taking too long to find me, he would just stop looking.  At age 3, he didn't have the courtesy to call out and let me know he was done...he just quit.  It was too hard, it was taking too long, he couldn't find what he was looking for.  (Would have been nice to know on that day I hid in the dirty laundry hamper.  I couldn't stand up straight for two days!)

I feel like that little Goliath now.  I am so frustrated!  The search has gone on for a really long time.  I just want to wave the white flag of surrender and be done.  I want to get back to what I want to do and forget what I have to do.  

This week's disappointment has brought back the old question that has nagged for such a long while:  What does God want?  I rarely do the "why me?" thing; I tend to think instead "why NOT me?"  I know that there is nothing about me that is better or more deserving than anyone else.  But why the ongoing suffering?  "Suffering" is a heavy word, but there is not a better one to describe the physical pain I have, but also the emotional anguish that I carry--and others share.  Sometimes I think that this would be so different if I had never married the man I love....or if we had not had children....or if my "Original Five" weren't so close....or if....

I were alone.

I HATE knowing that I am causing pain for others.  If I could walk away........

I would get exactly nowhere.  Cancer would still be there, suffering would follow me.  It is hard to follow God when you don't understand Him, isn't it?  It's hard to know what to do when you feel forgotten.  It is hard to trust when you feel let down.  

"He has shown you, O man, what is good.  And what does the Lord require of you?  To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God."  Micah 6:8

Lord, help me to do what is good.  I want to walk with you, and I need your strength in these difficult days.  I don't understand cancer, I don't like it, and I would love it if you would erase it completely from my body.  But I know that you have a plan for me and I believe that it is good.  Please help me to trust you.  Show me where to go and what to do next, and then lead the way!....because I will follow you wherever you go.  Amen.

Insomniac Blogging: Ninth Edition

Sleep, oh sleep,,,where for art thou, oh sleep?

*First things first:  I hated sixth grade math in 1987, and I still do.  Decimals are my nemesis..  I desperately want to tell Goliath that he will never actually use this skill in real life, but I realize that might be overstepping my bounds with the math teacher. You and and I know the truth.

*As long as I'm on a school soapbox, let me just throw this out there:  Those reading logs?  Tiresome..Seriously.

*I turned on the lights in the kitchen early last week and nearly stepped on a gecko. Ewwwwww.  I immediately took refuge on the top of a chair and summoned Little Middle to save my life.  Turns out the beady-eyed little guy was already dead.

*I love the beginning of school.  LOVE!  There is something so satisfying about buying a fresh box of crayons and a notebook with crisp white pages, just waiting to be filled.

*I wish I was still teaching.

 *Our school district not only acknowledges that technology is the way the world is going; they embrace it  wholeheartedly and are encouraging students to do the same. Within a few years, every student in the district will have an iPad.  The iPads will be distributed just like textbooks.  Students are expected to use their iPad for educational purposes, both in and outside of school.  4th graders are in the first wave of iPad deployment...Little Middle is beyond excited!  All we hear from him is "When I get my iPad, I will..." and "Can I download _____________ game on my new iPad?" and "My teacher said I don't have to share my iPad with my brothers!".  For the love of all things Apple--hurry up, iPad day!       

*My sons'  teachers spend more time with them than I do.  Their paychecks should reflect that, don't you think?  I don't understand WHY we pay a guy millions of dollars to catch a football, but beginning teachers make somewhere in the neighborhood of $35,000 (if even that much).  CRAZY.

*I also do not understand a world where Kris Jenner manages to get her own  talk show.  What does she possibly have to talk about?!?

*I saw a nun driving a F150 pickup truck one morning as I was taking the little boys to school. 

*In church during the sermon, Baby leaned over and whispered in my ear, "What is a belly button for?"

*I watched the new show Uncle Grandpa with the boys on the Cartoon Network.  I swear that I could hear my brain cells dying.

*The Summer of Shakes at Sonic is over, and I only had one shake.  Fail.

*I put out my fall decorations yesterday.  Well, everything except the candles in my lantern on the front porch.  I am afraid that those will melt.  Texas doesn't know that it should be cooling off by now.

*I wear a patch that is time-release pain relief.  The regular pills (even the heavy-duty stuff)  just don't cut it anymore.  Unfortunately, one of the side effects of the patch is itchy skin.  Hello, Benadryl.

*Hubby and I have both accused the other of talking in our sleep..  However, I think he won the prize on Monday morning.  My alarm went off at 5:45.  He immediately said, "Your table is up next!"

*Goliath is selling cookie dough for a band  fundraiser. In a few short weeks, Little Middle and Baby will join in, trying to earn money for their school.  Ugh.

*My new favorite snack is banana chips, dark chocolate-covered raisins, and cinnamon/sugar almonds.  Toss a handful of each into a sandwich bag, and VOILA!  Portable yumminess!

*My goal for the new school year is a pretty lofty one.  I am determined to pack healthy, more interesting lunches for the cowboys.  Packing lunches is #2 on my List of Hated Chores, beat out only by laundry.  I got into a bad habit last year of making sandwiches and tossing in a bag of chips,  the occasional applesauce, a juice box, and some type of dessert.  Every. Single. Day.  So far this year, I've done pretty well.  My boys are feasting on carrots, fish sticks, cornbread muffins, fresh fruit, and their favorite:Waffle Wednesday.

*Gus the Terrible has not been quite as terrible lately.  I wonder what is going on inside his little.dog head.

*I wonder if CL:R.really works the way the commercial claims that it does.     

*"If we could look into each other's hearts and understand the unique challenges each of us faces, I think we would treat each other much more gently, with more love, patience, tolerance, and care." --Marvin J. Anderson                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

"If she liked me any more, she'd sic the dogs on me."

Over the Red River and just across the state line, things are quiet.  Too quiet.  It has been nearly five weeks since I signed consent to participate in the MEK162 clinical trial.  On that day, the researchers seemed thrilled to have me.  The head doctor was extremely interested in Monster and our history together.  She promised that they would work quickly to obtain and dissect a tissue block from one of my debulking surgeries.  That did indeed happen, but with unfortunate results:  There were not enough cancer cells in the sample to qualify as measurable.  Monster did not meet their strict criteria.

I was slightly confused, but of course I granted my permission for them to try again.  A second block of tissue was FedExed to Oklahoma, and the investigational researchers got busy doing their thing.  After another week of waiting, I called and was given news that I did not care to hear.  Sample #2 was also a bust--the necessary slides were easily made, but none of them contained enough tumor.

"How can that be?" I asked Michelle the research nurse.  "There is plenty of tumor in there!  I can feel it!"

Michelle suspects that during each of the surgeries, the doctor cut out the tumors (which he was supposed to), but did such a good job that there was very little left over for remaining tissue.  In other words, I was greatly debulked.  That is good for surgery, but bad for research.

I should have started treatment by now.  I need to have started treatment by now.  Monster has made his presence known in a few new and frightening ways in my body.  Dr. F says that there is nothing to be done but to proceed with treatment as quickly as possible.

After all this waiting and receiving discouraging news, I was not quite prepared to make the decision that was presented to me yesterday.  I could a) be released back to Dr. F to receive the standard of care (read: chemotherapy), or b) travel to Oklahoma for a scan and intense biopsy.  I have already taken every chemo drug that is considered "standard of care" for ovca patients.  Each drug was unsuccessful.  I chose to pack my suitcase and go north.

Of course, nothing can be simple or easy.  The appointments must be done at certain times of the day with certain medical personnel.  That means more waiting for me while Oklahoma tries to get their act together.  With any luck, I will be able to travel next week.

Through all of this, Monster lives.  He is such a pain (literally!).  I think of him as being like those animated germs in the Mucinex commercials.  You know, the ones where they set up homes inside the sick person's body?  They stay there, relaxing in their easy chairs and inviting their friends in, until the miracle Mucinex comes in and kicks them back to the curb.  I feel like Monster has claimed my body as his own personal space.  He doesn't care that he is creating chaos.  He only cares that he has found a good spot, and he is fighting to stay put.

Although I am frustrated and discouraged, I continue to fight.  I get out of bed each morning, determined not to let Monster change my life, or even cramp my style.  I have three very good reasons, after all, to fight back...they call me Mom.

A Back-to-School Letter

Dear Goliath,

Tomorrow is a big day for you!  You will go to your first day of sixth grade, your first day of middle school.  I can hardly believe that the time that we have talked about for so long is finally here!  I can hardly believe that I will take Little Middle and Baby to the elementary school in the morning without you....sniff.

What I really want to say to you here has nothing to do with sappy mom feelings, though.  I want to tell you something that is very important about the adventure that you are about to begin.  For as long as I can remember, when I have tucked you in to bed at night, we have said your prayers together and I have thanked God for making you "strong, smart, and special."  I believed it when you were a tiny little guy in a crib, and I believe it now that your feet are bigger than mine and you are going to middle school.

I'm pretty sure--in fact, I know--that lots of other moms believe that same thing about their sons and daughters.  And I want you to remember that when you encounter other kids at your new school.  You will have plenty of opportunities to make new friends, or at least a lot of new acquaintances.  Every single person you are in class with deserves to be treated with kindness and respect.  Every individual that you see in the hallway was created by God--same as you--and that alone makes him/her very special.  Every kid that stands in the lunch line near you or shares a locker in your hall needs someone to be their friend.  I don't mean that you should be best buddies with every person you see.  That would be impossible!  Just be mindful, sweet son, that sometimes yours might be the only smile that another student sees.  Your kind word, even if it is a simple "hello", might be the only nice thing one of your classmates hears all day long.

You have everything that you need to be successful at school this year.  You have a mom and a dad who love you and want the best for you.  You've got two pretty cool brothers (come on now--admit it!).  You never miss a meal, you have a soft bed to sleep in, you've got neat-o new shoes and clothes.  Do you know that there are kids who don't even have those basic things?  Families who don't have enough food?  Parents who can't afford new shoes?  There are kids whose parents work long hours and they don't get to spend a lot of time together.  There are kids who have sick family members, or who don't do well in school, or who are going through a thousand other hurts that they don't tell anyone about.  There is a well-known quote that goes like this:  "Be kind.  Everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."  Tuck that away and draw it up when you need to:  in sixth grade, and later, in your adult life.  Some rules never, ever will change.

There is a lot of talk among us adults about how hard it is to be a middle schooler.  That isn't because the schoolwork is so hard (but be prepared to study!); its because you have a crazy need-desire to fit in and be accepted.  Over the next few years, you will have to make some hard decisions about your relationships:  who to keep close to you,  and who to keep farther out.  Be smart, son.  Don't change who you are to make someone else happy.  EVER.  If you have to change, then they aren't worth it.

Tomorrow morning I will feed you a good breakfast, pack a grown-up lunch and a water bottle, and then for the first time in your whole life, I will drop you off at the front of the school and NOT walk you in.  You are growing up.  Sometimes that makes me feel sad and miss the cute little guy in the crib, but I would not trade in 6th-grade Goliath for anything!  Dad and I are so proud of you.  You will be awesome in your new school, and I fully expect that you will make a difference to lots of people there.  Always treat everyone with kindness and respect.  They, just like you, are strong, smart, and so very special!

I'm so glad I got to be your mom.

With love and great expectations,

Mom

The One In Which Summer Comes To An Abrupt End

Technically,  there are 4 days of summer left.

But today, I called Summer 2013 finished.  Done.  Complete.  Concluded.  Over.  Terminated.

I am a firm believer in "too much of a good thing."  And that's what these last weeks of summer break are:  too much.  We've been to camp, we've done VBS, we've done the road trips.  We've visited family, we have good (enough) tans, and we've checked the main stuff off the bucket list.  In fact, all that's left on the bucket list are the things that I hastily wrote on there with good mom intentions.  Things like "Write a snail mail letter," "Do something nice for our mailman," and "Go to a farmer's market."  I know, I know--I was fighting a losing battle.

Today, the cowboys had their favorite neighbor-brothers over to play, making five little boys all together.  The problem started when my two oldest cowboys felt the need to show off for their friends, vying for wins against each other in  competitions such as Insult Hurling, Name Calling, and Steal-a-Wii-Turn. Their friends were probably overjoyed when their mom called for them to come home for lunch, and that was the unfortunate moment that The Cowboy Who Shall Remain Nameless made a very poor choice in the way he spoke to his father and myself, and he ended up washing my car (lovingly nicknamed The Bus).  At 12:02 in the afternoon. Yikes.

Once all the cowboys had been denied a trip to Sonic for lunch, and once again been forced to eat sandwiches (the horror!!!), I strongly suggested that we enjoy a screen-free afternoon.  "Screen time" applies to TV, video games, phones...anything fun.  I logged their complaints as usual and assured them that they could do it.

Little Middle and Baby decided to play Legos.  They had been upstairs maybe 10 minutes when they came back down.  One of them was crying and one of them had his arms crossed defiantly across his chest.  Apparently, one brother needed 5 specific Legos that were in the other brother's building, so he just took 'em out and made the whole building collapse.  This led to an argument about each individual Lego in the tub and who its rightful owner was.  Seriously?  We own approximately 2.4 zillion Legos.  So Little Middle says to me, "So what are you going to do about him, Mom?"

Before I could escape those two jokers, the big one comes in.  He is supposed to be reading a book, but LOOK!  While he was reading, he found the walkie talkies that have been missing.  "I'm just going to try them out, OK, Mom?"

Nooooooooooo................

I managed to wrangle the walkie talkies away and I declared a mandatory Quiet Rest Time for everyone.  We haven't had a formal QRT since 2008!  

Little Middle ended up falling asleep for a while.  I wish the other boys had too.  I think my Baby might have slept a little bit if he had stopped somersaulting for just a few minutes.  He's cute, but the constant movement can be irritating.  It didn't help that the doorbell rang about 14 times in a row.

By the time we were ready to go meet the new 2nd and 4th grade teachers, I wasn't feeling very rested or refreshed.  I was feeling sweaty and melty.  August in Texas is hot, no matter how you slice it.  So it would have been very nice indeed if the air conditioning to the elementary school had not been shut off just a few hours before Meet the Teacher began.  I imagine that heads will roll for that little shenanigan!

Attending MtT meant that I had to drop Goliath at his jiu jitsu class earlier than usual, which earned me quite a bit of complaining.  He would be bored, blah blah, he didn't want to watch the other class, blah blah blah, couldn't he walk down to Pet Smart, blah, blah, NO!  I ignored him most of the way to the gym, but before I smashed The Bus into the windows of the strip mall, I had to put a stop to his sassy mouth, which probably raised my blood pressure into the next universe.

Somehow, we all managed to get home not much worse for the wear.  Hubby was kind enough to make the dinner that I had on the menu for tonight:  Burger Sliders.  Well, Monster is having none of it.  He's not a fan of burgers.  Monster and I were hungry, so we settled on Toaster Strudels.  I don't think I've eaten Toaster Strudels in a year!  The strudels popped out of the toaster, I put them on a plate, and guess what?  There were no icing packets left in the box.  All gone.

I had to make my own icing.

That's it.  I love my kids with all my heart.  But really...settling arguments about Legos?  Quiet Rest Time?  Icing-less Toaster Strudels?  And I haven't even told you that it was a bad hair day, that Monster conquered Ambien again last night, or that the one thing I have volunteered for begins on the very first day of school.  This is all too much.  I will be a much happier mama, and thereby we will have a much happier family, when we aren't all together all the time.  Summer is over.  Starting NOW!

Insomniac Blogging: Eigth Edition

*6 days and counting until school starts!  Kelly and I will meet for our annual Happiest Cup of Coffee of the Year to congratulate ourselves on surviving another summer.  Of course, that is still six days away.  Anything could happen....

*The phenomenon of feeding three growing boys (and their friends) has brought me to a new all-time low at the grocery store:  In the cereal aisle, I skip right over all those pretty boxes and head straight for the over sized bags. I am now feeding my sons generic cereals with names like Fruit Rings, Marshmallow Mateys, and Cocoa Crunchies.  The good news is that hungry boys do not discriminate!

*Every Sunday morning I listen to the radio while I'm getting ready for church.  It is a habit that goes way back.  When I was Goliath's and Little Middle's ages, I listened to Adventures in Odyssey by Focus on the Family. Each week I would be so excited to hear what was going on at Whit's End! (20+ years later = dorky, I know)  Anyway...I am not that thrilled with our local Christian radio station.  I hear far more commercials than I do songs, and it's hard to get into a worship mindset if I'm thinking about laser eye surgery or auto insurance for my entire family.  Thanks to technology, I can live stream the Houston station I grew up with.  They don't play Adventures in Odyssey anymore, but they DO set a good stage for worship.  Good job, Houston!

*Little Middle can not believe that my teachers had chalk boards in their classrooms when I was in school.  He was even more astounded that banging the erasers outside was a coveted reward for good behavior.

*Sometimes I use the word "hashtag" in conversation.  Example:  During a phone conversation with my cousin when we were trying to set up a time to meet, her baby was crying and two older kids were arguing in the background.  She was frustrated and said so.  I replied, "Hashtag mom of three kids."  It's especially weird because I don't have a twitter account, or even know much about twitter.

*I wonder if JC Penney will ever recover from that silly reformatting they did last year.  I almost feel sorry for the guy who decided to stop holding sales.  What he essentially did was make them a Wal-Mart with carpet.

*It really bugs me to hear anyone use the word "golly."

*My favorite commercial:

*A few weeks ago, my Bible Study girls were able to get away for 24 hours to the Gaylord Hotel in Grapevine.  We had so much fun...especially when we made an 8-person train in the lazy river!  Ha!  At one meal, we started talking about what our very favorite foods were.  I never got to answer, so just for the record, ladies:  it would be seafood.  Yummy.

*That led to a discussion of our favorite hymns.  It is too hard to pick just one, so we agreed to narrow it down to our top five.  I'm still working on my list, but it reminded me of another favorite:  Remember back in the day when we used to have 5th Sunday Hymn Sing?  At our church, the floor was open to anyone who wanted to make suggestions.  Every single time, little 'ol Ms. Hattie (who seemed really old to me back then) would shout out "82!"  Nobody had to look it up.  We all knew that hymn #82 was Victory in Jesus.  Every time.

*Little Middle is getting glasses.  Just in time for 4th grade!

*Origin of Dallas measles outbreak is tracked to a local church.  Pastor to congregation:  "I've got news for ya:  The measles are unrighteous."

*It's going to be so weird to have my kids at two different schools this year. 

Oklahoma

To fully appreciate the story of The Initial Trip To Oklahoma, you'll want to imagine the scene from the minute the sun comes up.  Here, allow me to set the stage:

The sun is peeking over the horizon.  I have been up for what feels like hours because Monster trumps Ambien a lot of nights.  I have gotten all three little cowboys out of bed, and they are eating delicious bowls of sugary goodness drowned in milk. I am creating piles in the living room.  A pile for Goliath, who is going to the local swimming pool with a friend.  A second pile for Little Middle and Baby, who are going to another friend's house to play.  A third pile for myself, which includes the all-important FILE (you know, just a few inches of light reading about Monster in particular, clinical trials, and low-grade serous carcinomas in general.  No big deal.)  

The higher the sun goes, the faster I move.  Hubby, sensing my stress (he's getting pretty good at that), moves into high gear, and starts tossing dishes into the dishwasher.  I finish the piles:  swimsuits, beach towels, sunscreen--check.  $$ for Goliath--check.  Lunches for the little boys plus a snack to share--check.  I breeze through the kitchen and dispense everybody's medication--more piles.  Back to the bedroom to grab my favorite pink water cup, then back in the kitchen to take in my daily bread med.  Just as the last pill slides down my throat, a terrible realization comes to me...made worse because I know that there is not a single thing I can do about it:  The pills I just took weren't mine.  I swallowed all of Hubby's meds!!!  I start making gagging noises and debating whether to call poison control.  Why don't they make those green Mr. Yuck stickers anymore?  Ack!  How could I have done such an unbelievably stupid thing?!?  It wasn't even like I could have been easily confused!  Each of the pills that I take is white and round.  Hubs has different colors and shapes.  I just stood there and downed them, one by one.  

Luckily, the story has a happy ending.  Hubby's meds knocked me out for a good while, but didn't kill me.  It's a good thing he was planning to drive to Oklahoma!

So, he drove and I slept.  We ate on the road (I do love me a good grilled cheese sandwich from Sonic!) and arrived at the clinic in Oklahoma City just a few minutes early.  The staff was friendly, the facility was nice, blah blah blah.  You don't care about that.  We were there for 2+ hours, and I signed a consent form for the clinical trial.  Then they sent us home.

Yep.  An entire day for a few pieces of paper.  I could hardly believe it, either.

The next step?  They are supposed to be in contact with the hospital here in Dallas, working to obtain tissue samples from previous surgeries and/or biopsies.  I assured the research nurse that it wouldn't be a problem.  There is probably an entire closet at the hospital with my name on it.

Once the tissue is obtained and it is determined that I do indeed have the cancer that my doctor and I say that I have, Oklahoma will call me.  I will get in my car and drive 3 hours there.

When I get there, I will have a CT scan (my favorite!).  Then I will drive 3 hours home.

The CT results will be sent to an independent radiologist.  That guy will painstakingly measure each of Monster's parts.  Each part must meet a certain criteria--1.17 cm. this way, 1.148 cm that way, etc.  If Monster cooperates, we move on to the next round of screening.  If he is not measurable enough, I am at the end of the road.

Assuming that Monster measures well, I will...you guessed it!  Drive to Oklahoma!  At that appointment, I will offer up some blood for testing and also do an eye exam. One of the most likely side effects of the MEK162 drug is an eye disorder, which can be anything from swelling around the eyes to a change in vision.  This is a proper time to mention my #1 childhood fear:  Becoming blind like Mary Ingalls from Little House on the Prairie.  I got my first pair of glasses in the 2nd grade.  I'm taking that eye exam stuff seriously, friends.

It is my hope that before I leave the clinic that day, the randomization process will take place.  As it has been explained to me, the randomization goes something like this:  The doctor puts certain pieces of information into the computer, such as my age, Monster's size, etc. etc.  Then the all-knowing and all-powerful computer spits out a slip of paper that can alter the course of a person's life forever and ever, amen.  One does not argue with the computer or change its mind.  All decisions are final.  It made me think of this:

Once the Super Computer randomizes me, I either start taking pills twice a day, or...I don't.  And if I don't, well, the implications of that are pretty enormous.  

If I am randomized to participate in the trial, there will be many trips to and from Oklahoma.  Many.  So I'm sure you will all be glad to know that between my house and the clinic, there is a World War II monument, an exotic animal safari, a Gene Autry museum, a supposedly-"world-famous" fried pie restaurant, and 5 casinos.  I ought to be able to amuse myself in my comings and goings.

Admitting that I've never been to a casino before speaks to my insecurities about gambling.  I'd rather stay where it's safe, thank you very much.  But now, there is no such thing as safety for me.  MEK162 is a crapshoot--nothing but a big risk.  Will I be among the "lucky" ones who get picked?  And if I take the drug, will it even work?  Will it outsmart Monster?

The fact is, there is only ONE sure thing:  Nothing about me is random to God.  He's known all along how this would play out (Psalm 139:16).  He counts every hair on my head (Matthew 10:30).  And with or without Monster, I'm just passing through.

"Therefore we do not lose heart.  Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."  2 Corinthians 4:16-18