Christ Exalted in My Body

Ephesians 6 tells us to put on the full armor of God so that we can protect ourselves from the schemes of the enemy. For me, that sometimes means physically outfitting myself with pieces that remind me of what's true. It's a form of preaching the gospel to myself so I can fix my eyes on Jesus and not my circumstances. Today is one of those days.

Yesterday, I met with my oncologist to discuss the results of my latest scans, the first ones I've had since starting my latest treatment, Afinitor and Aromasin, in May. And the results were not what we had hoped they would be. While this combination kept all the spots in my bones stable, it did nothing for my liver. Every one of the spots there grew, and there's also a new spot that hadn't been there before. While the spots are larger (some of them have doubled in size), they are still small overall. We are thankful for that.

However, this means I need to move on to yet another treatment that will hopefully work better on my liver. Needless to say, having a treatment fail every three months means I'm going to run out of options more quickly, at least options that preserve my quality of life.

This time, my choices were between Faslodex - the "shots in the buttocks" (thank you, Forrest Gump, for something to laugh about here) that I had avoided taking as part of the EMERALD trial - and starting chemo. Obviously, I prefer just about anything to chemo, so Faslodex it is. They gave me my first shots right at my appointment, so I'm officially up and running on my new drug without losing any time.

The nice thing about this drug is that I'll get it once a month at the infusion center and won't have to deal with prescription pick-up, co-pay cards, or remembering to take it every day. The not-so-nice thing is that it hurts a lot going in, and I'm really sore in the muscles where they injected it, but I'm sure that will go away in time. 

My oncologist also called in a prescription for an antibiotic that should treat my stomach/bathroom woes, if my issues are being caused by something infectious. The tests they had run before my trip didn't come back positive for anything, but we're going to give it a go just in case because the next step is a colon biopsy, and that sure doesn't sound like a good time to me.

So there are many reasons I need to preach the gospel to myself and remind myself that my hope is found in Christ alone. It's not in this next treatment; it's not even in receiving a miracle of healing here on earth, although of course we would love for that to be the way God chooses to finish my cancer story. My hope is in Christ alone, like my shirt says, and He is "firm through the fiercest drought or storm." I say to you the words of the apostle Paul:

I know that through your prayers and the provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ, my distress will turn out for my deliverance. I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have complete boldness so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain (Phil. 1:19-21). 

I live out these words most imperfectly and require many reminders of their truth, but I know that He holds me, come what may.

P.S. For those wondering about our epic Europe adventure, pictures are coming! I just took SO. MANY. that it's taken me forever to whittle them down to a manageable number to share. Stay tuned.