Tag: cancer

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Nutrition and cancer

Let’s start with one thing. I am not a doctor. I am also not a nutritionist, a dietitian, or an expert of any kind on the topic of cancer and diet.  So I’m not trying to tell you what to eat or what products to use or not use if you have cancer.  What I am doing is sharing what I have decided to do, after concluding that diet may affect cancer, speaking to two dietitians, a nutritionist, numerous cancer survivors and my doctor, and reading a crapload of books and blogs and such on the topic.  

A lot of what I say here comes from the above books, especially the Anti-Cancer Lifestyle.  I found it to be practical and balanced.  
This is what I’m thinking and what I’m doing.  Not a recommendation, necessarily.  Some people would never give up some of the things I’ve given up and some people will think I’m not strict enough.  To some people this is shocking info and to some it’s familiar and almost common sense.  I’m not trying to be critical or directive.  It’s just, well, food for thought.  
Some interesting info:
Cancer rates have increased sharply since 1940.  Here are some other things that have happened since then:
Huge increase in refined sugar in our diets – In the 1800s sugar was a rare treat.  Today the average western diet contains 154 pounds of refined sugar per year (!!!). That is cuh-razay.  And gross.  
Changes in farming, therefore changes to our food (factory farming.  Cows used to eat grass on farms.  A natural food rich in omega-3 fatty acids (the good kind.)  increase in demand has led to farmers taking shortcuts.  Now cows eat corn and soy and wheat.  These have omega-6 fatty acids (the bad kind.)  So your beef and milk has fatty acids that prompt inflammation, instead of the fatty acids that reduce inflammation.  Inflammation is widely acknowledged as a pre-cursor to cancer.  
Introduction of processed foods and trans fats.  Hydrogenated oils like vegetable oil are omega-6 oils.  They are in most pre-packaged foods currently but did not exist prior to WWII.
Exposure to chemicals that did not exist prior to 1940.  (100,000+ chemicals released by industry since then.) Flame retardants, pesticides, dyes, detergents, etc. One 1995 study tested a representative sample of the approx 75,000 substances on the market at that time and concluded that 5-10% should be considered “carcinogens.”  From dry cleaning, to household cleaners to shampoo – there’s some icky stuff out there.  
So.  What to do???  It’s overwhelming.  I know.  But here is what I am doing in response to the information I have gathered.
I avoid refined sugar as much as I can without going crazy.  My mom is making a chocolate cake tonight and I will probably eat some.  I received some Belgium truffles and you know I went to town on those.  But I do not mindlessly pick at candy, cookies or put sugar in anything.  I use agave for things like salad dressings and if I were to bake I would use coconut sugar. I buy products like jam with no added sugar.  Artificial sweeteners are basically poison so I don’t use those at all.  Stevia is natural but I think it’s gross so I don’t use it.
I primarily eat only organic meat and animal products.  I’ve cut out milk, creamer and butter and use almond milk, soy cream and an olive oil product instead.  I very rarely eat red meat now.  Special occasions only (like corned beef for St. Patty’s day!)  i typically do not eat meat for breakfast or lunch and even try to make those two meals vegan as often as I conveniently can.  I cannot give up cheese – it’s just not happening.  But I have cut back on it and try to buy organic.  
I do not use oils except for olive oil for salads and coconut oil for cooking.  I do not buy very many pre-packaged, processed foods.  The only frozen things I buy are fish, veggies and an occasional ice cream related treat.  
I do not microwave anything plastic.  
I avoid most heavy duty cleansers.  I replace with Method or Meyers brand or plain white vinegar.  
I only use regular anti-perspirant if I’m doing something physical with others out of courtesy, lol.  I use a natural deodorant otherwise.  
I’m slowly switching my body products and cosmetics over to organic.  I do not use dry cleaning.  
So that’s mostly stuff I DON’T do.  Here’s what I DO do.
I primarily buy organic produce although items with a tough outer skin like pineapple or oranges I don’t worry about as much.  I eat a LOT of green things: kale, spinach, cukes, chard, arugula, etc.  these contain cancer fighting anti oxidants.
Other anti-cancer foods:
Sweet potatoes
Quinoa 
Flaxseed 
Turmeric
Garlic
Citrus
Tomatoes
Tofu
Celery
Beets
Whole grain bread, pasta
Green tea
Red wine (woohoo!)
Filtered/bottled water (never leave bottles in the car/sun!)
I get as much physical activity as I can.  Chemo had made this hard.  But exercise fights cancer!  The more, the better.  
I am working on addressing my stress levels.  Stress feeds cancer.  Prayer, yoga, meditation, the Spa station on Sirius/XM.
This is in no way comprehensive.  There are theories about wheat, gluten and carbs.  Theories about diets being too acidic and the need for a more alkaline diet.  Many people say zero animal products is the way to go.  Some say more meat, but no grains.  Some say cell phones and all of the electronics are a factor.  I do some things in response to those theories but I haven’t bought fully in to any of them.  
I hope this was helpful or at least interesting.  Thanks for reading.

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Chugging along

This week has been tough.   I think I’m getting impatient.  The end of my 8 cycles of chemo nears so I’m just ready to be done!  

I was inspired by the beautiful weather yesterday, so I decided to go for it with the run/walk.  A quarter-mile into my journey I realize that the cool air, though much warmer than it has been recently, was still really rough on my nose/throat.  It’s the strangest feeling. It’s 50° outside and it feels like I’m breathing in Arctic ice winds. It hurts.  It makes me feel like I have athsma. My hands went numb.  Then my feet.  Crap, I thought.  I felt nervous.  And a little scared.   I was jogging on a loop around my neighborhood and I was getting close to the halfway point, so there was really no turning back.  I thought about how silly it would be to call someone to come and get me.  Pride won out.  So, forward I went.  Every step was awful.  I cried a little bit, to be honest.  
I would like to tell you that I got home and felt great.  Invigorated.  Proud of myself.  In reality, I felt sick.  Really sick.  I overdid it.  I asked too much of my body.  And it frustrated me greatly.  A little over a mile and half did me in.  Dammit.  It sounds ridiculous!  I don’t want that.  I don’t want to be limited by this anymore.  I want my body and it’s energy back.  
I collapsed on my couch, feeling nauseous and defeated.  24 hours later, I’m still not fully recovered.  I feel all prickly and weird and sick.  And I’m torn, emotionally.  I want to kick this thing so hard in the ass.  I want to stand up to cancer and fight it down into the dirt.  I want to believe that nothing can get in my way.  I’m supposed to be Wonder Woman, right?
But part of strength and wisdom is knowing your limits.  Part of confidence is having the humility to grasp that you are vulnerable, imperfect and, in my case, not in top athletic condition.  
My lessons so far have primarily been about discovering my strength, my ability to weather this awful storm, to march forward, to shoulder a heavy burden and somehow keep going.  Frankly, I’ve amazed myself on more than a few occasions in little ways like keeping my head in the game through a three hour meeting while suppressing the urge to vomit.  Or getting out of bed to spend time with my kiddo.  
But yesterday, even though I completed my goal, I bumped up against a limit.  A wall.  I don’t like it.  It’s in my freaking way and I have shit to do.  But it’s there.  That’s reality.  
And I’m still me.  I’m still a warrior.  God is still on His throne.  Even if I have to limp around the wall instead of leap gracefully over it.
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No regrets

Years ago, in my family, we started using the term “no regrets.”  Basically, we all kind of came around to the idea that when someone is dying, you should be able to, shall we say, send them off to greener pastures, without obsessing over how we should have spent more time with them, been kinder to them, been more understanding or generous.  

Basically – do the right thing now so you won’t regret not doing it later.  This began in my mid teens and it has really stuck with me.  I really do make an effort to engage with others in a way that I won’t later regret.  That doesn’t mean I don’t have conflict – I have plenty of that.  And I fall short at this when stressed or tired.  But I do seek to take time, to make peace, to be generous with my words, to make sure people know what they mean to me.  I’m not great at this, but I make a real effort.  Sometimes I want to hold a grudge or ignore a need or pretend I didn’t see the “missed call” on my phone.  But a common prayer of mine is that I would put the needs and interests of others above my own.  Because regrets suck.  
My friend and coworker whose wise and encouraging words can be read here: www.dougsmithlive.com recently quoted some famous leader as saying you should greet people and spend time with them as if it’s the first time getting to know them and part ways as though it’s the last time.  I never thought of it quite that way before but that’s a helpful thing to consider and put into practice.  

Sports people say something like “leave it all on the field.”  I think it’s a Vince Lombardi quote.  I say do that with life and especially relationships.  

We all know the drama queens who, when someone dies, they sob and shake their fists and wail and say stuff like “I never told him I loved/forgive/appreciate him!”  Ew.  What a terrible way to live.
Relationships are hard.  Loving people is risky.  You’ll get hurt.  You’ll be disappointed.  But when you give up, check out, or lock the door on a relationship that doesn’t truly warrant it (yes, there are times to lock the door and throw away the key – abusers, for example) you’re setting yourself up for regret.  You can ignore that family member who is a little draining.  You can skip the hospital visit, the 80th birthday, the driveway across the street you know you should shovel. You can find 100 excuses.  But those excuses are the breeding ground for self-centeredness.  And self-centeredness, if left unchecked, will end in regret.  
So, a reminder to myself and anyone who doesn’t want to be at the funeral feeling like a jagoff:  
Send the flowers
Write the note
Forgive the offense
Express appreciation
Give grace
Play Scrabble
Give the foot rub
Bake the cookies
Accept the apology
Say thank you
Point out the talent
Give the hug
Erase the debt
Hold the hand
Mend the fence
Say sorry
Leave it all on the field.
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Misery loves company…usually.

They say misery loves company. And admittedly, there are times, when you’re going through something difficult, that it is a relief to come across someone who is sharing that same struggle. 

There is a special relief that comes when you engage in that quiet conversation in the corner about something difficult, scary or private.  That conversation you have where you admit out loud for the first time that you have to do something to take care of the hair that grows on your upper lip (if you have Eastern European roots like me, anyway.)  The moment you blurt out that you’ve considered putting your child up for sale on EBay.  The time you confess that you Facebook stalk the girl your high school boyfriend dumped you for.  And mentally high five yourself because you are WAY BETTER by Facebook standards, anyway – more friends, more likes, cuter kids.  Take that, former cheerleader!  (Also, we will ALL agree to ignore the fact that she is still skinny and is a nuclear physicist.) 
This doesn’t apply just to embarrassing things.  For example, I love finding someone my age who manages a team in their job like I do.  And fellow curly haired ladies.  And U2 fanatics.  And even harder things.  If you get fired and you come across someone else – someone talented and smart and cool – who has been fired, it’s like a healing balm.  
I once worked, briefly, for a really difficult boss.  My fellow coworkers – we would all convene at happy hour to share our latest woes.  
So.  You find that person who knows exactly what you’re dealing with. It’s so gloriously freeing to share something.  But I have to say, whenever I hear about someone else getting cancer, my heart just breaks a little bit.  
A young woman I know, Katy, is embarking on her cancer journey today.  Chemo, day 1.  She is a strong, health-focused woman. A wife, a mom, a fitness coach, a business owner. And she’s young. Cancer has no business being in her body.
But cancer does not pay attention to our ideas of who seems immune.  It settles in where it wants to.  
So, while I wish to God it wasn’t cancer, I’m grateful to have something in common with this tough young lady.  To get to know her.  Because she’s really awesome.  And I’m grateful to be able to pass along a little of the kind of love and support my friend, Laura, gave out so generously.  Laura couldn’t talk very much toward the end, but I know if she’d had time and words to share, she would have told me to be positive, to not be afraid, and to encourage others along the way on this strange, difficult, frustrating, painful, ugly, challenging, beautiful, inspiring, edifying, messy, sad, happy, terrible, amazing journey. 
Please pray for Katy when you pray for me.  
We’re working really hard to make cancer our bitch.  But God’s the one who can do ALL things.  To Him be the glory.     
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Challenging assumptions

I regularly stumble across the fact that I make a lot of assumptions and inferences.  Some are harmless enough but some are really unfair and potentially damaging.  Example: for years I assumed that a child causing a ruckus in Target had parents that were lazy and inconsiderate.  Then I had a child, lol.  And at some point prior to that, also learned about autism, sensory processing disorders and the like.  Granted, some parents of kids who act out are lazy, inconsiderate people.  But some are crazy-amazing human beings with endless love and patience.  They are better people than I am because, honestly, when my kid freaks in public my biggest concern is that people DON’T think I’m inconsiderate or lazy – not what my child’s needs are.  Those crazy amazing parents often don’t give a hoot what you think of them – they are sorry to be annoying you, but they mostly are in it for the long haul and they’re focusing on the baby steps of helping their child make his or her way in this difficult, judgy world.

Still, my assumptions abound.  I assume if you love Disney, you don’t think about the weird male/female roles they have historically promoted.  I assume that if you’ve had plastic surgery you’re a narcissist.  I assume that if you like Joel Osteen your IQ is below average.  I assume if you like the band, Nickleback you have astoundingly poor taste.  (Don’t hate me!  I know these are totally unfair!!! Except the Nickleback thing.  That’s just truth.)
But when I challenge my own thinking, I discover that I have smart, thoughtful friends who deeply enjoy Disney magic. (And I have to admit that I have had a seriously great time on my handful of Disney excursions.). I know generous, others-centered ladies who have had boob jobs.  And I just learned recently that weird, creepy Joel Osteen basically rescued one of my favorite people with hope when she was spiritually drowning.  
I still get an icky feeling when I see a Joel Osteen quote.  I still wrestle with Disney as a brand and how much I care or don’t care about what it may or may not communicate to my kid. (Brave was pretty cool, honestly.)  I still think that plastic surgery is an odd way to spend one’s money.  
But how I’m growing is that I’m learning more and more how to accept and respect the fact that just because someone comes to a different conclusion than I do – this doesn’t mean I’m necessarily seeing the issue for what it is and they’re not.  I may have some wisdom and information and perspective that is valuable.  In many cases, I could likely “win” in a debate about it.  And I might even be right.  But I’m learning to put the brakes on my tendency to take a tiny bit of data and extrapolate, drawing broad conclusions.  
Having cancer is terrible.  But it focuses my thinking – when your life is threatened by something, you start considering how you’re spending your time and brain space.  I might not have the 50 years that most 35 year olds assume they have left to grow into an old, wise, kind person.  (And actually…you might not, either – someone is going to get hit by a bus, you know?)  So, I’m truly considering how I think and act in an effort to get rid of the crap that is in the way.  And the best part?  When I beat this thing, I’ll be like an awesome 85 year old’s brain and heart in a 30-something’s body.  And I will still judge you for liking Nickleback.  
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At least I don't have tuberculosis

Last night I went to bed anxious that the impending snowstorm was going to wreak havoc on my already cumbersome commute.  I fretted about getting enough sleep (I’m coming off of a rough chemo weekend) and leaving early enough to get my Tuesday morning meeting.  

Interestingly, as I slept, I had a dream that I somehow contracted tuberculosis.  A doctor diagnosed me and when I told my family, coworkers and friends, they all insisted it wasn’t any big deal.  There was some obligation I was supposed to attend – an event or appointment or something – and everyone urged me to just go.  That I probably didn’t really have anything serious.  That it was silly to prioritize this minor problem.  The expectation was clear – go.  Be “on.”  Deliver.  

In this dream, I had a deadly, highly communicable disease, and I bowed to the pressure of expectations.  I typically don’t think much of dreams.  Mostly because mine are usually filled with mundane, normal stuff or complete, utter nonsense.  But this one seemed to have a message.
Sometimes I do not feel ok about resting, unplugging or eschewing my responsibilities.  Even in this season of my life. I don’t think it’s because people actually don’t let me.  I think I make assumptions about what is required of me.  And what people will think if I fall short.  
Don’t get me wrong – I take the breaks I need to…sometimes I’m just totally deflated and have nothing left.  But I never really feel ok about it.  I feel like I’m slacking, failing and letting everyone down.  I feel judged.  Again, it’s not anyone’s fault.  I own it.  
Sometimes I wish someone would send me away – see, I can’t send myself…someone actually sending me would be, I don’t know, permission. An allowance to unplug from my obligations.  
While a weekend at some lovely spa would be outstanding, it won’t fix my problem.  My problem, and this is absolutely not exclusive to cancer fighters, is that, sometimes, my worth is tied up in what I do.  How much I do.  How satisfied people are with my performance.  In all areas of life.
Do you do this to yourself, too?  If you think about somehow, magically, being totally free of obligations and expectation, does it make you want to just cry with relief?  
There’s good news, but it’s pretty blunt.  Jesus is the only answer to this.  My identify has to come from who I am as a child of God, wholly and dearly loved.  I am not good because I’m well behaved, productive, efficient and freshly showered.  I’m not valuable because I cook a decent vegetarian chili or can juggle 37 projects at once.  Those things are good and they make me ME.  But they aren’t what determine my worth.  My worth comes from He who created us.  I’m worth something because He says so.  Even if I’m laying on the couch eating a cronut.  
The tricky part is grappling with the feelings that come with falling short of people’s expectations.  Or, more accurately, the expectations I believe they have.  This is where it helps to have people around you that love you, and while they do want you to make your bed and go to work and send Aunt Martha a birthday card…they don’t love you because you checked off your chore list. They love you over and above and around your shortcomings.  
Once I was late to pick up my daughter from my parents’ house and I had a complete, total breakdown.  I was so afraid they would think I was being disrespectful, irresponsible, selfish.  But when I got there, a sloppy, messy, snot-filled, teary-eyed mess…I was met with grace.  
The other day I sent my husband into the snow to pick up some take-out I’d ordered for us.  Turns out, I placed our order at a different location of the Mexican chain – one 20 miles away.  When he called to tell me, I expected anger at my stupid mistake.  I had done almost nothing the entire weekend, so sick from chemo.  And the one thing I tried to do:  epic fail.  But my husband just took care of it and brought me my quesadilla anyway.  Grace.  
Grace is so sweet.  I expected ridicule.  But I was received lovingly.  And I was so relieved.  I was reminded of how God deals with me…daily.  If you want to really rock someone’s world, give them grace when they think they deserve your disapproval, your disappointment and your cold shoulder.

I’m working on my issues with fearing letting others down.  I’m working on remembering who we are in Christ.  Let’s be liberal in reminding each other of that. And liberal with our dispensing of grace.
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So…where have YOU been?

When you have cancer, some people just come out of the wood work. Of course there are the usual suspects – those family and friends that you know are with you no matter what. But, I am back in touch with some people that I honestly thought I would never hear from again. Some of my friends have become even better friends. Some people I always thought were kind of self-absorbed have really gone out of their way to reach out and show love and care. People who don’t owe me a thing have sent cards, letters and gifts. It’s incredible and I can’t overstate how grateful I am.

But here’s the other thing. Some people…don’t. There are a few people who have become conspicuously absent in the face of this disease. At first, it just hurts. Like…how could so-and-so disappear when I need them most? I mean, what kind of person shrinks into the shadows at a time like this? A selfish person! An uncaring person. A rude, thoughtless, hurtful person.

I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Because there is definitely a short list of those people for me. And every time I think of them, I am just flabbergasted that they haven’t been around. Some, it was immediate and abrupt. Have not heard a peep since the diagnosis. Others more so kind of have faded away. Again, I’m totally amazed and grateful for the support I have – it is significant and fulfilling and need-meeting and just incredible. But there are little holes in my heart where those absent people should be. People that I thought wanted to “do life together” no matter what.

It’s really kind of crappy to have this illness and the crappy treatment and also have the hurts associated with people who just can’t be bothered. The imperfect human part of my heart is hurt and mad. I want to unfriend them on facebook, say mean things about them and send them a box of dog poop in the mail.

But the Holy Spirit lives in me. And what He has to say is this: People are scared.

People are scared of cancer. Scared of sickness. Chemo. Vomiting. Bald people. (I’m not one of those bald people, but people think I am, especially those who haven’t seen me.) They are scared to see a friend sick and hurting. They are scared to potentially watch someone die. They are scared to get closer to someone who (through no fault of their own, it should be noted) just signed up for a crap load of pain, drama, inconvenience and changes. They are scared to GET CLOSER to someone who MIGHT NOT BE AROUND.

I understand. I know that feeling. I’ve watched someone die. And I definitely was faced with a choice at one point – to get closer even though I knew what the end might look like. And it didn’t end how I wanted it to. It was hard and sad and heartbreaking. It challenged my faith. It made me so sad it felt like pure anguish. BUT…I wouldn’t trade that experience for the world. To know that I was there means EVERYTHING. To know I didn’t shy away. I didn’t hide. I didn’t make excuses. I showed up. I brought pumpkin flavored coffee and rubbed feet and held hands and prayed. That doesn’t make me some special person. I’m only saying it because you know what? It made me BETTER. My heart is softer. And bigger. I love MORE because of that experience. I am blessed because I was there. And I would hate myself now if I had made a different choice.

So, if you’re faced with this situation, please consider a few things:

Your friend needs you. They notice you’re not around. TRUST ME. Sometimes us cancer people are forced to lay around and do very little but think, and sometimes our thoughts turn to those we miss.

If you haven’t been around and you think it’s too late now, IT IS NOT.

If you go, and you visit or call or whatever, it might be weird…but it might be FINE. It might be WONDERFUL.

If you bite the bullet and dive in even in the face of fear, you’ll learn a lot of things – what suffering looks like, how to love someone going through something hard, how to think of someone besides yourself, what strengths you have that you didn’t even know you had. How to show love when you are totally incapable of fixing what is wrong.

If you don’t, you will regret it. Whether they get better or not. I mean, seriously?! Do you really want to be that jagoff who ran for the hills at the face of adversity? (It never ends well for that character in the movie.)

And if you’re in the suffering seat – if you have the cancer or the tragedy or the crisis and you feel a little bit abandoned, consider this:

It’s not that they don’t love you. It’s just that they are terrified and they don’t know what to do. Pray for them. Do your best to forgive them and try to understand – they are broken; something inside them is a little wonky and they probably don’t know how to fix it.

And finally, I say to those of you who have dived in head first – with me or with other people that you love – especially if it scared you….you are the heroes. You are a blessing. You have made something terrible much, much easier.

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Brief Relief

I got great news on Thursday.  My cancer has not, thus far, found another place to take up residence in my body.  Put another way, no new tumors.  This is a huge relief and cause for celebration.  I am so grateful.  

But I’m also dealing with my worst post-chemo side effects so far.  This time it really wiped me out.  I slept at least half of the weekend and today, Monday, I am searching hard for some energy because I have a work related obligation this afternoon that cannot be missed.  Unfortunate timing.    
So my thoughts and feelings are this crazy jumble of gratitude and deep annoyance.  I’m so glad the cancer hasn’t spread.  And I’m so sick of going through this crap.  
When I start to feel sorry for myself, I know I need to get my head screwed back on straight.  So here’s what I do:
Give myself permission to vent or whine just a little bit to someone who can handle it and isn’t going to give me advice.  It might just be a couple very honest texts to someone who will welcome my transparency.  But I get it out in a way that I feel heard.
Stop the whining.  It’s ok for a little bit but I’m not into say, a whining lifestyle.  You can easily become a whiner without even realizing it, so, reel it in.  
Pinpoint the problem.  What is really getting to me?  Nausea? Cabin fever? Aches and pains? The frustration of only being able to drink warm beverages when all I want is icy cold ginger ale.  Identify the problem and address it if possible.  
Once earthly measures have been taken, I sit quietly before God and complain to Him.  Sometimes I am more polite and thank Him for some things first and note His holiness and such.  Other times I just let it out.  And I ask for help.  
This is not like submitting a request and having it fulfilled right away in the particular manner I prefer.  We do get tempted to think of our relationship with God as rather transactional, don’t we?  Behave, ask nicely, and get what you asked for.  My experience is that this is not typically how it works because we are not always asking for the best things.  It’s ok for me to ask God to relieve my nausea.  Maybe He will, but if He doesn’t, it’s because there is a purpose in this that I’m not privy to.   
The Bible is full of stories of suffering turning to glory.  Joseph, Job, Jesus.  It’s a perpetual theme.  There is purpose in our suffering.  So when the suffering does not subside upon our request, we have to be content that God is with us, and this will be worked out for our good. And that some glory lies on the other side. 
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Tomorrow

Tomorrow is round 5 of chemo.  That’s not what’s on my mind, though.  Tomorrow I get the results of my CT scan.  Basically we’ll find out if my cancer is spreading or not.  It feels big.  Like I might be plunged into a scarier place than I already am.  

But a good scan this month doesn’t mean I’ll never have a bad one.  People get cancer, get better, and then get it again.  Two years later or ten years later.  Some people have 20 cancer free years and then have a stroke.  Some perfectly healthy person is going to get hit by the bus.  Or bitten by the snake.  Or choke on some Skittles.  
What I’m saying is while I am praying and hoping for good news tomorrow, I’m not putting my hope in scans or news from a doctor.  They matter, of course.  But they aren’t final.  There is always something dreadful to fear if you don’t put your hope and faith in something bigger and better and more significant than any earthly thing.  
I’m tempted to put my hope in the scan results.  I know I’ll feel relieved by good news and scared of bad news.  But I choose to trust God no matter what lies ahead.  I’m not all that good at it, mind you.  My emotions can flail in the wind like anyone’s.  But I come back to the truth that God is worthy of our trust and works all things for our good no matter how outrageously crazy and unfair some things may feel.  He knows more.  He knows better. I’m in His capable hands.  
In the Scriptures He promises “when you pass through the waters, I will be with you.”  That’s better than the admittedly sought after good news of a clean scan.  Way better.  I want that good news.  I really do.  But what I want more is unshakable faith – to understand who God is so much that no news can undermine my trust in Him.  I’m not there yet, but I’m moving in the right direction.  Are you?
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The best book I've read in a long time

I know I’ve mentioned this book before.  But here is a full review.

Tim Keller, in this hefty, somewhat scholarly book, thick with Scripture references, personal stories and C.S. Lewis-level logical arguments, discusses how our culture tells us that adversity, suffering and struggle are bad – they are something to get past so we can get on with real life. Suffering, such as dealing with cancer (or job loss, infidelity, serious injury, loss of a loved one) is a life disruption, a snag, an interruption from our regularly scheduled programming. But, as Dr. Keller poses, what about the biblical view?  It says this is IMPORTANT.  It’s allowed by God, by design.  It’s not retaliation for that time you missed church or lied about being stuck in traffic or even that time you stole, cheated or deeply betrayed a close friend.  The justice for all of the dumb stuff you do was satisfied, paid in full on the cross.  So, while it’s possible that your suffering may be a direct consequence of sin, ignore the temptation of yourself and others to ponder whether you “deserve” the suffering or not.  It’s irrelevant.  Additionally, depending on how you approach it, this suffering you’re experiencing can be used by you and God to galvanize your faith, to deepen your intimacy with God, to strengthen your relationships and bless you with greater wisdom, compassion and patience. 

Put another way, whatever suffering you’re going through, it’s not an accident, it’s not punishment and it’s not to be squandered.

Here is an excerpt that really challenged and encouraged me:

“If you believe in Jesus and you rest in Him, then suffering will relate to your character like fire relates to gold. Do you want to know who you are—your strengths and weaknesses? Do you want to be a compassionate person who skillfully helps people who are hurting? Do you want to have such a profound trust in God that you are fortified against the disappointments of life? Do you want simply to be wise about how life goes?

Those are four crucial things to have—but none of them are readily achievable without suffering. There is no way to know who you really are until you are tested. There is no way to really empathize and sympathize with other suffering people unless you have suffered yourself. There is no way to really learn how to trust in God until you are drowning.”

One of the most challenging aspects of this book is how Dr. Keller boldly confronts the reader with this question:  Are you in this (the Christian faith) to truly serve God, or are you in it to see how you can get God to serve you?  Oof.  That’s a rough question. Our response to suffering gives us the answer.  If we kick and scream and whine and cry and demand to be released from the suffering, we’re not approaching it with a trusting attitude toward God.  We’re basically saying “Well, I was ok with this until physical pain came up on me.”  Or “Hey, I was willing to go along until you let that man break my heart.”  If we really believe that this God loves us enough to send his son to the cross to save us from all of our terrible decisions, moral failures and selfish choices, then how can we not trust Him to be with us in the midst of of the suffering?

This book is for people who are experiencing serious suffering, or people who want to be prepared for when it comes their way.  Dr. Keller has published a gift here – a guide to having a Biblical, Christ-centered response when your world comes crashing down.  If you want to take your faith-journey to the next level, read it.