Mike’s Cancer Specialist Appointment
This is not a typical post for this site, but our health journal site servers have been down for three days and we have to get this information to you! Before I tell you about the appointment, though, I have to recap the week so you can see how God was working in the background to prepare our hearts.
Despair Beforehand
We were in a state of despair leading up to this trip. Mike was very low emotionally considering the prospect of facing another round of chemo cycles, surgery, or even stem cell transplants. I was having trouble trusting the Lord was even good anymore. We humans can be fickle lovers. I’m glad God doesn’t give up on us as easily as we give up on him. I’m also thankful for grace and compassion from him when I act like a whiny Israelite in the wilderness. I can certainly identify with those weary souls who wandered in the desert. It’s so easy to read the Old Testament and look down our noses with judgment and scorn at the very human, very weary, very real people in those accounts. But we forget that we are just as fickle and just as weak when we’re exhausted and confused. God doesn’t forget how human we are and he has limitless patience with us.
In my own despair, I didn’t even want to open my Bible to read it. I couldn’t pray anything more than two words—“Lord, help!” I also knew, deep in my core, that the only person I could turn to was God. This is why it’s so important to read, study, and pray in the good times. Because hard times will come, dark nights of the soul will crush your spirit, and it’s in those moments that you desperately need the stores of truth you have tucked away for a spiritually rainy day. It’s in those quiet, worrisome moments that somewhere, deep down, you recall those truths and you allow yourself to be comforted and held by them.
So, I went to church even though it hurt to do it and God met me there. Mike was not feeling well enough to attend service on Sunday, so he stayed home. That in itself usually makes me worrisome and more emotionally tender. Coupled with my already weary spiritual state, it was all I could do to walk the block from the parking lot to the front steps of our {new} church. Our pastor—who knew my spiritually apprehensive state because he had offered me some counsel earlier in the week—saw me and my son coming up the sidewalk and held the door open for us, welcoming me into the haven of refuge that our liturgy offers.
There is a certain song that the Lord has used to minister to me over the last year. The first time I heard it was during a service I attended with this lovely congregation before we officially decided to make this church our home. I was feeling weak and spiritually vulnerable that day, too. We had just found out Mike likely had some sort of cancer and we weren’t yet telling anyone because we didn’t have any real information to share. I heard the song and it broke me. I cried so hard I couldn’t speak, much less sing along. They were cleansing tears. Since that day about a year ago, I have “popped in” to their services a handful of times because the liturgy feeds my soul. Every time I was really low, this song was part of the music that day. God cares about every little thing. Something as seemingly insignificant as thinking “I would really love to hear that song today because I need to be encouraged” and then it happens—those moments aren’t coincidental, they’re sovereign appointments to remind us God cares! So, of course this song was done last Sunday! God used that one song to chip away at the walls I had been building against him all week long.
As if that wasn’t enough, the sermon on Sunday was taken from Mark 4:35-41, when Christ controls and quiets the storm. Our pastor made a point to remind us that the question Jesus asks his disciples about their lack of faith isn’t a harsh rebuke, but an invitation to trust him more. And Jesus puts an exclamation point on his invitation by revealing more of his power through calming the storm immediately. The main point isn’t about whether our meager faith is measurably large enough. Instead, the main point is what it always is—the person and work of Jesus Christ and his trustworthiness because of who he is!
All of this broke me. I snot-cried all the way through the song, and then the sermon. I came home, opened my Bible and read it for the first time since Tuesday that week and it didn’t hurt as much to do it. God led me to drink from his never-ending well of living water and I walked away refreshed, but still a bit timid and definitely still afraid. I had come to a place—again—where I was willing to let my husband go if that’s what God requires of me. That’s so hard to even type.
Indianapolis
The drive to Indianapolis was uneventful. Good weather, crazy drivers in certain places, but generally an easy drive. We arrived on Tuesday evening, ordered GrubHub, read our Bibles some more, and went to sleep. We slept pretty decently considering our worries and fears about the upcoming appointment the next day.
The next morning, we took our time having hotel breakfast, complete with truly awful coffee, read our Bibles some more, got ready and headed to the Indiana University Hospital for his 2pm appointment.
The Simon Cancer Center at IU Health is a lovely place. After our Cleveland Clinic experience, we were quite apprehensive about visiting another large volume cancer center. But IU is refreshingly not the sterile clinical machine that is Cleveland Clinic. The cancer center was warm and inviting with comfortable furnishings and staff that put you at ease from the first interaction.
We were called back to the exam room quite quickly, despite the fact that we had arrived rudely early (we didn’t know how much walking we would have to do once we got parked and in the building). After sitting in the exam room, we waited about 10 minutes and Dr. Einhorn popped in to introduce himself and just let us know that he was finishing up with another patient first and would be right with us.
Finally, Dr. Einhorn came in, sat down in a chair, and the visit started. Let me first just tell you how delightful this man is. At 81 years old, he is still practicing medicine because he wants to help cure as many men with testicular cancer as he can. He is the G.O.A.T. (greatest of all time) when it comes to testicular cancer. He cares deeply and you feel it from the first handshake. He walked through Mike’s case with us, asked for a few more details, then explained how testicular cancers behave before, during, and after treatment.
He then explained how Mike’s specific type of tumor typically responds to the first-line course of treatment. He said when cases have distant metastases like Mike did, 80-90% are cured by a first-line course of BEP and never relapse; they move on and never have to look back. Then he dropped the bomb. He said “I believe you are squarely in that 80-90% number. I think you responded well to the treatment you already received and I’m not even mentioning any further chemotherapy to you at this point.” We were in shock and disbelief! So, of course, I started asking questions…but what about?…He explained all the current tumor marker numbers and why the most recent PET scan looked like it did. The bottom line is, pure seminoma testicular cancer tumors can develop something like scar tissue when they’ve gotten as large as his did. He said the large retroperitoneal mass would likely continue to decrease over time, but his CT scans would probably always show something in that area due to the scar tissue. And as long as it doesn’t start getting larger or tumor markers (one in particular) don’t drastically increase above a certain threshold, not to worry.
Mike started crying uncontrollably happy tears. We thought we were going to this expert to hear incredibly bad news and instead, we were shocked in a completely new way! I’m still a bit numb and in shock from it. I haven’t really absorbed the news fully yet. We have gotten so used to bad news, I just can’t seem to flip the switch to receive this yet. Don’t get me wrong, I’m elated! I’m just trying to remind all the voices in my head to sit down and shut up, lol!
Next Steps
So now, we move on and assume he’s healed. There will be CT scans and blood tests every two months for the first year, then they get moved out further and further over time until they become every two years. If any of the the things Dr. Einhorn mentioned happen (growing mass or highly elevated tumor markers), it would indicate a relapse. However, since the world’s top expert on testicular cancer believes Mike is in that 80-90%, we’re choosing to believe it too—and move on!
Dr. Einhorn said it will take a good while to rebuild his strength and stamina, but it will continue to get better over time. He reminded Mike that he’s twice as old as the average age to get this diagnosis (lovely being reminded you’re old!), so it takes longer to bounce back from all that when you’re no longer in your twenties! He also suggested getting his hormone levels checked because those contribute greatly to energy levels and they take quite a hit with this type of cancer and the treatments.
We can’t thank you all enough for all the prayers, support and encouragement! We’ll be taking things one day at a time and enjoying living LIFE together in the months ahead. And we’re going to continue thanking the Lord for Dr. Einhorn’s expert opinion on Mike’s case. We’re so glad we made the trip!
