It's a Roller Coaster

Yesterday's biopsy was a bit more than I had bargained for. Although I had a great team working on me, it was really tricky finding the spot they needed to biopsy, which meant a lot of probing with the ultrasound, a lot of repositioning, and a lot of taking deep breaths and holding them or letting my lungs completely empty and holding like that as long as I could. They ended up calling in a second and third provider and the pathologist. In the end, the only way to see the spot they needed to biopsy, which was apparently hiding behind a rib and my lung, was if I had just the right amount of air in my lungs. I had to empty my lungs all the way and then take a little tiny breath. And I had to do this on command, in concert with them inserting the needle between my ribs, through my diaphragm, through the liver capsule, into my liver. Which meant I needed to be alert and couldn't get the sedation and fentanyl pain reliever you usually get for this procedure. I did get local anesthetic, though! I mostly only felt prodding and pinching, but retrieving the core samples sent shooting pain into my right shoulder, which is where the liver typically has referred pain. All this to say, the procedure took much longer than expected and I spent the entire time in a most unbecoming position on my side, exposed, with my arm flopped over my head. Maybe the artist Rubens would have found it attractive (LOL!) but I felt ridiculous (not to mention uncomfortable).

Because the tumor was so difficult to access, they ended up taking extra samples but are still not 100% certain they got what they needed. We'll know in a week or two. As a reminder, unlike most biopsies where you're hoping for negative results, we would love a positive result - HER2-positive/low! That will make me a candidate to try the newly approved drug, Enhertu. While we wait for results, I'm focused on the good news that, if my tumors are hard to find, it is because they are small and are not throughout my liver. 

My devotions took me to Psalm 56 this morning, and I was struck by these words: "When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can flesh do to me?"

What can my cancerous flesh do to me?? Ultimately, it will not win. "Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul" (Matt. 10:28). Cancer cannot kill my soul. It may look for a while like it has, but it will only be the shadow of death, a "falling asleep" until I am raised again in a redeemed, made-new body. "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" (1 Cor. 15:55).