Six down, two to go.

The last 2 weeks have been full of ups and downs. On the up side, I have been enrolled in a fitness program designed for cancer patients undergoing treatment. It feels good to move, to stretch, to just get up off the couch and get out into the outside world again. I am also far less nauseous with this particular chemo drug, which is a plus! On the down side, the fatigue seems to be harder to shake off. There is also more physical pain involved in this chemo regimen than in the first half of my treatment. I am managing, but those days when it hurts to move certainly take more energy from my sparse reserves. Although there are only 2 more treatments to go, I must admit that I have had moments when I wonder where I will find the stamina to get through them. Today I went to the doctor for the usual check up on blood work. Tomorrow was supposed to be chemo #7. Second last dose. However, I have had a small set back: I have been fighting off a virus this week, and what should have been a simple cold sore has turned into a bit of a monster.

I have a series of blisters on my upper lip, under my nose, and on the roof of my mouth, running down the back of my throat. It is very unpleasant to put it mildly. At first, I thought this was a reaction to the chemo, as mouth sores are a common side effect. Inwardly, I was struggling with the idea that I might have to endure this particular problem for another month. When I went to the doctor today, though, she had some good news for me: this is not a side effect, just a viral infection that has gotten out of control because of the strain on my immune system. There just was nothing left for my body to use in fighting this, so it blew up almost overnight. The end result is that I am on painkillers and an antiviral for the next 7 days. If the blisters subside enough in the next 48 hours, then I will be able to proceed with chemo #7 on Friday. (Please keep this in your prayer, as the chemo will be delayed until my mouth is sufficiently healed.)

It is clear to me that the strength to finish this journey is not to be found within myself. Instead, I am drawing comfort from prayer, and the support of family and friends who have sent me encouraging notes and emails at just the right moment. I have to rely on the knowledge that even in the midst of this adversity, I am not alone. One of the things I am learning about is the power of thankfulness: it can always be worse than it is. Today, for example, I sat beside a woman who explained that she was on chemo treatment #28. She had completed her first round of chemo, relapsed, and is now undergoing another treatment plan. The man seated beside her responded with "Thirty-seven." (Gulp). These folks put my single digit count into perspective. When I struggle, I recall something my grandmother used to always say:"This too shall pass."

As I wait (sometimes impatiently) to get through the treatment regimen, I have tried to list the many things for which I can be thankful. I am thankful for the crowd of people who surround me and uplift me in prayer. The many emails, notes and phone calls lift my spirits and help me keep my eyes on the finish line. My family is a constant source of love and encouragement. My relationship with Jesus is the bedrock of each day, good or bad. Without these things, I would not be able to continue. With your continued prayers, encouragement and love, I am able to keep moving toward the finish line. Above all, I am thankful that "the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations." (Psalm 100:4)

...an ask for prayer...

Last night and today have been rough for Cindi and we're not done yet. Cindi is struggling through deep pain in her bones and muscles, incredibly sore knees and joints and her mouth is breaking down with sores and rawness. It is hard to eat, it is hard to find respit from the pain, it is hard. I would ask you if you would simply bow your heads for a moment and ask for some help and a break from the hardness of these days. Thank you good friends and family. It is so hard to be beside her as she journeys. May His peace find my beautiful wife today and may it find you. Pete

BEAUTIFUL

trying to finish well?

Funny how hard it is to get to the finish line when you can almost see it but are not quite there. Ever feel that way? Finishing up the fall cleanup this year in my yard was brutal. I had this one tree - a Monster Norway Maple - that just wouldn't give up it's leaves. I had everything else done and wanted to be finished but this baby wouldn't drop...and then it did. Man! Reluctantly I went back out and finished the job. That final cleanup seemed harder than all the work I had done before. Why is that? I believe we want to finish and that ending is our goal. Let's just get this done and be done with it. But ... Cindi and I are learning that just isn't the "way". I believe (reluctantly) that the journey between start to finish may truly be what it's about. A journey involving struggle and suffering, integrity and truth, challenge and failures. The end may feel good - for a moment - but in reality everything of value happens along the way, the rejoicing and sadness, the encouraging of one another and heartfelt prayers, the love expressed and received. Once all that's over - then what?

So we choose to stay on the path right now and know that the end is in site but we will keep our steps focused on the journey. Next chemo treatment - Wednesday of next week. The 2nd last one and another milestone on this journey. My beautiful wife continues to amaze me and this process has certainly grown us closer together and taught us so much. As much as I wish this had never happened, I realize as well that I wouldn't have missed this for the world because of all the special things that have come out of it. Amazing friends, astounding family, real conversations with God, lessons in grace and dependance and a deeper love between Cindi and I. A young friend of mine who's Mom was struggling through a similar journey once said, "Cancer sucks!" I totally agree. I also believe that God will work out all things for good and in the midst of the mess, that is what I watch for and celebrate.

May your journeys never be comfortable and be real and full of blisters and soreness. May you risk the narrow gate and the road less travelled and engage in bungee-jumping faith where your reliance must be on Him. May you fall down and marvel at the gentle hands of a loving God who is there and helps you up all the while teaching and growing you. May you pray for danger and sadness so that your life and heart might grow bigger and heavier for the things that He wants us to care about. May you suffer so that you can experience the tangible love of a real friend. And in all of this - may you be blessed!

6s

So this past Wednesday Cindi went through her 6th chemo. This new drug "taxol" is quite a journey for her. She has to endure some pretty severe muscle and bone ache and it is not easy. I am so proud of her and her perseverance through it all. 2 more treatments to go and then we are done this chemo-thing and it is time for a well deserved break. Last treatment - December 12th - the date we are shooting for - less than 4 weeks away.

Then after a few more weeks Cindi should be on the mend and even perhaps growing some hair back. I am praying that she is feeling better for Christmas or at least New Years and we can take it from there. I took some time over the last week and a half to unwind and rejuvenate. I spent 6 days in Algonquin Park with my son Matthew canoeing and portaging through a little snow, some nice weather and a day of rain. Simple things can be very restorative and it has been years since I camped with my son.

All in all these two 6s are good things. One step closer to being done and one step closer to feeling restored. Both of us are a bit burnt out and longing for better days. We know that these times will surely pass and there are new things to enjoy and perhaps overcome on the horizon. One foot forward and then the next. Thank you to all of you who have been there in prayer and support over the last few months. You are appreciated so much. Peace and grace to you all.

Chemo treatment #5 was completed on Wednesday, Oct. 31. I was anxious about this treatment, because it was the first time a new drug was used, which can cause some pretty extreme reactions when it is administered. (Including what my oncologist described as "experiencing an impending sense of doom." Gee, that's great, especially given the fact that I started this treatment on HALLOWE'EN!) As per usual, my worries were a waste, because all went very well. So much so, that the nurse commented at the end of the session that "this was one of the smoothest administrations of this drug" that he'd experienced. WHEW! I continue to say thank you for your prayers - as my body undergoes this onslaught, I continue to experience strength and grace in the midst of the side effects. The only explanation I have is that I am being sustained by the many prayers being offered on my behalf.

As to the side effects: Thankfully, the nausea is not nearly as bad with this particular drug. The trade off though is that I will have some pain to cope with in my joints and limbs. Today my devotions reminded me that this too shall pass: "We wish you could see how all this is working out for your benefit, and how the more grace God gives, the more thanksgiving will resound to his glory. This is the reason why we never collapse. The outward man does indeed suffer wear and tear, but every day the inward man receives fresh strength. These little troubles (which are really so transitory) are winning for us a permanent, glorious and solid reward out of all proportion to our pain. For we are looking all the time not at the visible things but at the invisible. The visible things are transitory: it is the invisible things that are really permanent." (2 Cor. 4:15-18). The wear and tear of chemo will pass; the grace of God will sustain. Isn't that awesome?