Me In My Cage!

I thought today I'd share some pictures of the radiation process. It is fascinating. These are the two radiation therapists, Dallas and Darren, that are evicting Grizelda. And yes, that is me in the cage under my favorite red comforter. (It gets cold in that room holding still for an hour!)

This is Darren putting on my "cage"./> He's clamping it to the table so I can't move.This is me snug as a reptile in its skin! I'm trying to decide where I'm going to go for the hour. I ended up staying in the room and letting the angels come to me! I visited with my dad, daughter, grandmothers, a good friend and a few others. Talking to people when you control both sides of the conversation is nice. You ought to try it sometime!

A Report of Day Two

While being radiated yesterday, I listened to Vivaldi and I went to Galilee. I listened to the Sermon on the Mount and then watched as the Savior mingled with the people. I love the beautiful paintings of the Savior among the people, but I’ve always been disappointed that there has never been a picture of Him laughing and seldom is He even smiling. I know He laughs and smiles because when the Spirit is with me smiling and chuckling are the natural way of being.

But that is the advantage of traveling in your imagination. You can make it happen. Listening to the Sermon was wonderful, but the best part was afterward when I watched the Savior tousle the hair of a young boy, and chuckle as another young boy delighted in a bug crawling on a low-hanging, tree branch. I watched Him smile as he saw a young mother tenderly cradle her sleeping child as the father protectively guided her through the crowd. But then something strange happened. Without me directing the thoughts, I was suddenly in Nauvoo and Joseph Smith was pulling stick with a large farm hand while a crowd of young boys cheered them on. Joseph won the stick pull and then he grabbed a young boy playfully and tousled his hair. They laughed and the others laughed too.

At that point I was disappointed that the session was over. What seemed like five minutes had been an hour. They let me out of the cage and we drove to the Timpanogos temple. After I got dressed for the temple session, I happened to pass a mirror and noticed that my face still had the imprint of the mesh cage. I looked like I’d been pressed in a waffle iron—like a character you’d find in a Dr. Suess book! I’m still laughing as I wonder what anyone who saw me thought!

I'm Surviving Radiation!

Yesterday I had my first radiating experience. It wasn’t bad and is extremely interesting. Last Friday a very kind radiation therapist named Dallas made a cage for my head that is used in all the radiation treatments. First he put a flat piece of what looks and feels like plastic mesh in hot water. He placed that over my head, pushed the edges down so that it formed around my entire head, and waited until it became hard. Along the sides and top of this contraption is a horseshoe shaped rim of plastic that is used to screw this “mask cage” to the table. In other words, while I am on the table they put this cage over my head, bolt it to the table so I can’t move even my eyelids, and then I lie there as still as possible for about an hour while they shoot at Grizelda with radiation.

The first thing most people ask me is if they give me anything like Valium. The answer is “No!” and I am thankful they don’t. I don’t like taking pills. The tools for Living In Truth that I’ve been writing about in this blog work much better without any side effects.

They do pipe whatever music I want into the room. The machine is so loud it is often difficult to hear the music, but when I can hear I Anchor on the sound and that keeps me content. In addition, I used the tool of Distraction. I have a wonderful imagination and yesterday I just traveled in my imagination to Nephi 17 where the Savior appears to the Nephites and I watched them kiss His feet. I watched Him heal them and watched as they rejoiced in their new health. I watched Him pray over them while they wept for joy, and watched Him take them in His arms and bless them. Before I knew it the hour was up and the therapists were congratulating me on how still I had been. I didn’t dare tell them I’d left and visited the Land of Bountiful.

Today I think I’ll go to Galilee and see what I can find there.

Radiant!

I'm on my way to be radiated! I'm hoping that means from now on I'll be radiant! Don't laugh! A person can hope, you know.

Yesterday they called and said that I will need five days of radiation instead of three so the treatments will last until next Monday. On line I found several cases of lymphangioma that had been cured with the Cyberknife and that was comforting!

At any rate, if you see a shining woman with little hair walking down the street say hello--it's me!

Ministering Love

Whenever a person goes through something like what I am they hear stories. Many people tell you about their friend or family member who had a similar problem. Most of the time these stories convince me that my problems are very small compared to others. Everyone has trials. Everyone’s life is filled with adversity. No one makes it through life without many, many challenges. Some of those challenges are obvious—health challenges, accidents, disasters. But most of the time we experience private challenges that no one sees and so no one talks about them. Often we have no idea of the burden others carry around.

This has made me realize that we should approach everyone as if they are in some way hurting. In that way we can minister love, concern, and hope to others. We are more ready to forgive and refuse to take offense because we attribute what they say or do to the fact that they are hurting. If by some slim chance they aren’t hurting, they can still benefit from a little love, concern, and hope and we benefit from being compassionate!

Realizing that everyone has some challenge to bear even if we can’t see it also makes us less self-centered. This journey of life is filled with pain for everyone, but helping each other through the pain is one sure way to make our own pain more bearable.

Hope!

Today the sun appears, begins to warm everything up, then disappears again. It made me think about the words of a song, “There is hope smiling brightly before me.” The reason it reminded me of those words is because the sun today acts a lot like hope. Hope, like the sun, is shining even if clouds temporarily hide it.

It’s like taking off in an airplane on a cold, cloudy, winter’s day. For a few minutes you fly under the dreariness of the clouds looking down at a drab, dull world when suddenly things get worse. You enter the clouds and everything becomes all the more depressing. You can’t see anything! There isn’t even a drab, dull world to behold only thick oppressive clouds that hide your way. But suddenly the plane breaks through the clouds and bright, bright sunlight glistens on the wings and shines into the plane, and warms your very soul with delight.

Even though we can’t always see or feel the sun, it is shining. And even though we can’t always feel or see how things are going to turn out, hope is waiting. Hope is always brightly shining somewhere behind the dreariness. We just need to rise through the clouds and find it!

Grizelda Update

I have been asked a lot of questions so I thought I'd answer them here. First, What is a lymphangioma? Answer: "A large soft tissue tumor composed of cavernous lymphatic spaces. This condition is rare." (I've always been a very generic person, but now I have claim to being one in a million!)

The second question concerns treatment. There are four options:
(1) Do nothing and hope it will go away. In my case, since this occurred in adulthood and not at birth and since it is growing so fast and recurred after being surgically removed doing nothing would mean certain loss of vision in that eye.
(2) Treat with steroids. This would mean long, long term usage of steroids which would not be good for me because of all the side effects, and there is no guarantee that it would shrink the tumor.
(3) Surgery again. This would mean going deeper and being more invasive which would be extremely dangerous and would almost certainly cause blindness.
(4) Radiation with the CyberKnife. Of all the options this is the one most likely to preserve my sight. There are risks with this also, the main one being swelling that would cause the same problems as the tumor. However, they are going to treat for the swelling while doing the radiation and when they went in surgically last December they left a hole from the brain into the orbit which will allow for a little room for swelling.

The last question is whether I have sought a second opinion. I have five opinions. Four of the five concluded that it is lymphangioma instead of hemangioma and say radiation is my only choice to possibly save the vision. The fifth gave an opinion that applied to the hemangioma. In addition, since this condition is so rare one of the doctors sought out other opinions from his colleagues on the Internet.

This has been a very interesting experience. Many people have lovingly offered advice and suggestions. I appreciate it so much. It has made me feel so loved and cared for that at times it brings me to tears. Thank you.

I have been given a blessing that more miracles are on the way, so I am still at peace, and to be truthful, I am enjoying all I am learning. It is amazing what modern science can do. The CyberKnife was only invented in 1990 and has been refined several times over the years. It is a fascinating instrument.

Now, as we begin the radiation, please pray that it will work with no side effect! That is the miracle we are seeking!