Here we sit waiting for the labs to confirm that chemo is a go. Today's infusion will take 6-7 hours.  It is our first time in this infusion center and everyone seems so thoughtful and kind. The area is set up with individual cubicles, so our opportunity to interact with others will be limited, but not totally impossible.

It is interesting how words can bring comfort and sadness at the same time. As we were getting settled in the medical assistant said, "Welcome to your second family." It really does become that way each time a treatment is given. We are thankful for the people we have met, and the stories that have been shared. Yet, like everyone else here, we are hoping for the words "You are healed!" to be shouted from the roof tops.

Week before last we had two first hand glimpses of that victory shout. The first was at the Proton Therapy Center where Stew was having a special test done. As we entered the check in/waiting area, we noticed a large circular gold gong on a stand by the stairway. As the morning progressed we learned what it represented. It was beautiful.

About mid morning a nurse came down the hallway with an older gentleman and asked for every one's attention. She announced that his treatments were successfully completed, read a poem, and handed him a big gold mallet. He turned around with a huge smile and hit it as hard as he could. Everyone began to clap and cheer. Tears filled his eyes as he walked down the line of nurses, receptionists, and others that were there to shake his hand or give him hugs. As I glanced around the waiting area I could see similar tears and smiles of joy gracing the faces of those watching.

The other was in the waiting room at Dr. B.'s. While Stew was having labs drawn, a gentleman sat down next to me and began to share his story. He had been diagnosed with cancer of a different type than Stew, undergone chemo, hit remission, and received a stem cell transplant. He now had an appointment to see if all was going well. When his name was called, he stood, gave me a thumbs up, and entered through the door that would lead him back to where he believed good news awaited.

A while later, the door to the examine rooms opened. Out he came, looked around the waiting area, saw us still sitting there, and almost floated over to where we were with a huge grin on his face. It had worked and he was being released back to his own doctor. His happiness was almost tangible. He thanked us for our prayers and said he hoped the same for us.

These are the things hope are built on. God is the foundation, but moments like these help to keep it alive.

So thankful for what the Father did in both of these men's lives.  So thankful that the Father gave us these miraculous healing glimpses in the midst of our circumstances. What a gift it was to be able to celebrate together!

Reminders that joy isn't only found in your own answer received, but that it is found in each moment of victory, no matter whose the victory is, are precious. Joy is found in celebrating gifts of life. It is found in the heart of the Father. It is found in honoring what gives Him joy.

And, when eyes are open to see it, to see Him and be thankful...we are made stronger. For it is "the joy of the Lord that is our strength." Praying for eyes that continue to see His joy before us.

Thankful for:

Early morning rain.

The ding of incoming texts last night and this morning from those who remembered this was Stew's first day of the new chemo. We read each one and rejoiced at the prayers, love, and thoughts given. We were like little children opening a gift.

Crackers and juice provided by the clinic. They have already been used.

Pillows and blankets...infusion centers are cold!

Katie's (Dr. B's PA) just now visit: Antibiotics, medicines, precautions, etc, will be ready for us on Monday for our trip to see Ben and family next week. Loved her happiness for us.

Family!

You!

Our Father...

With hearts full of love and gratitude,
Faces-to-the-Wall,
Stew and Deb

Waiting with a smile.


Our home away from home.


Benadryl taking effect. :-)

"I AM the One Who calms the storms...

Last Monday we met with Dr. B. , our stem cell transplant doctor, to hear what he had to say about the mantle cell in Stew's body, and any recommendations he might have.

Truthfully, as we parked our car and slowly navigated our way through the halls of Medical City to Dr. B.'s office, our walk consisted of clasped hands, moments of silence, "I love you's", and attempts at everyday conversation. We were walking with two other companions... fragile hope and unspoken silent prayers. You see, even though we had not shared it with others, we knew God had spoken to our hearts on April 4, 2017, the words "Rough days are yet to come...but believe this when I say I am the One Who calms the storms." 

"Rough days yet to come":
During our meeting the doctor shared the specifics of the test results:
The cancer is growing.
The lymphomas have doubled in size from what they were 2 months ago.
There are more.
Their density has increased by 50%.
They could begin involving organs.

He shared that medically we really only have one option that will give Stew more than a 1 out of 5 life opportunity. It is a targeted therapy that carries with it a different type of risk. This chemo regimen, depending on the amount given and how Stew's body responds, can possibly bring remission or, because of what it does to the blood cells in his body, it can make a stem cell transplant no longer viable.

So, a new two day chemo begins this Thursday. Two rounds will be done, and then more testing for remission.

"The One Who calms the storms":

After being offered this treatment possibility we learned our insurance did not cover it. Stew then met with the Benefits Counselor and an "urgent" exception was filed. As unbelievable as it may sound, it was approved the same day!! Talk about God miracles...:-)

Thankful for reminders all the time that our hope, our answers are not found in the hands of man, though God can use them. But, ultimately they are found in the heart of God!

We discussed our desire to see our Tennessee family at the meeting and we were told to "go ahead." Such happiness in our grandparent hearts. Dr. B. did add the recommendation that we be gone no longer than three days, but we can handle that. Three days are a gift!! Any amount of time is a gift!

With love and appreciation for the Father, our family, and you,
Face-to-the Wall,
Stew and Deb


The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save, he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love, he exults over you with loud singing. Zephaniah 3:17