As the eldest sibling in my family, I always wanted to be the one that was right. Cancer changed that.
I remember my first Messiah solo audition shortly after neurosurgery and the beginning of chemotherapy. I knew that, statistically speaking, it looked like my last chance to sing my favorite oratorio, and so I was anxious for the opportunity to land a solo.
At that time my brother Jim scoffed and predicted that four years later, people would see me coming in and say, "Here comes Sister Oakes again, saying this may be her last Messiah!"
I knew that miracles were possible, and I smiled at his optimism. But I also knew that the odds weren't in my favor.
That's why I'm glad the odds aren't in charge. GOD is in charge. And for whatever reason He has seen fit to leave me here with the ability to do many things.
Today Jim's prediction became reality. I have done other Messiah performances since then, mostly at other venues, but this morning was the "four years later" solo audition. The director is a cancer survivor, too, now, so we both rejoiced in the miracles that allowed us both to be here, celebrating the Messiah through music.
This year the program is short, and there is only one aria in the performance. It's my favorite one: "O Thou That Tellest Good Tidings to Zion." There was a room full of women waiting to audition. I don't know if I will land the part, and I won't know for a few more weeks. But coming in for the audition and proving my brother right was a delicious experience!
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
GOLDEN!
In Texas, we don't often get a foot of snow in one night -- but we did! Another ordinary miracle that closed offices and schools and let us enjoy the day together. Jacob and Emma made a snowman and a snow fort, and after warming up with hot chocolate, engaged in a neighborhood-wide snowball fight. A day to treasure!
Today I am "golden!" FIFTY months of survival since my cancer diagnosis. GBM survivors don't always get to say that -- but I did! Another ordinary miracle that makes days like today even more delicious. This evening my husband and daughter are attending a daddy-daughter Valentine's party/fundraiser, and my son has asked me out on a dinner date to my favorite Italian restaurant. Tomorrow is a Sadie Hawkins dance at church, and I asked my husband to go with me. He said yes -- it's like our first date all over again! Life is good!
As my husband surveyed the splendor of our winter wonderland this morning, he noticed one stubborn, golden leaf dangling from the white-crusted oak tree in our front yard. Considering the Texas weather that has raged about since all the leaves turned golden last fall, this is one leaf that is determined to hang around.
It reminded me of one of my favorite O. Henry stories: "The Last Leaf," which is a tale of Christian charity and the power of the determination to hang in there:
http://http//www.enotes.com/best-o-henry-text/the-last-leaf
I think I should frame this photograph and envision myself as that little golden leaf, hanging on with complete disregard for what might work against me. Of course, in my vision, I'll keep three other "Oakes" hanging there with me!
Today I am "golden!" FIFTY months of survival since my cancer diagnosis. GBM survivors don't always get to say that -- but I did! Another ordinary miracle that makes days like today even more delicious. This evening my husband and daughter are attending a daddy-daughter Valentine's party/fundraiser, and my son has asked me out on a dinner date to my favorite Italian restaurant. Tomorrow is a Sadie Hawkins dance at church, and I asked my husband to go with me. He said yes -- it's like our first date all over again! Life is good!
As my husband surveyed the splendor of our winter wonderland this morning, he noticed one stubborn, golden leaf dangling from the white-crusted oak tree in our front yard. Considering the Texas weather that has raged about since all the leaves turned golden last fall, this is one leaf that is determined to hang around.
It reminded me of one of my favorite O. Henry stories: "The Last Leaf," which is a tale of Christian charity and the power of the determination to hang in there:
http://http//www.enotes.com/best-o-henry-text/the-last-leaf
I think I should frame this photograph and envision myself as that little golden leaf, hanging on with complete disregard for what might work against me. Of course, in my vision, I'll keep three other "Oakes" hanging there with me!
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Ask and ye shall receive
Matthew 7:7-11:
"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall fine; knock, and it shall be opened unto you:
"For every one that asketh receiveth, and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.
"Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent?
"If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?"
I was pondering this passage today, knowing that some feel disappointed when they don't receive what they asked for. Some question God's love for them (or even His existence) because a prayer seemed to go unanswered. But I happen to know that all prayers are heard, recorded, and answered. I know that every one who asks will indeed receive.
As I pondered the idea of giving good gifts to my children, the remaining fragments of my mind recalled that we were almost out of bread. It's a common situation, because my daughter loves to make her own sandwiches for breakfast and lunch, and she also raids the bread box for snacks. If Emma came to me one evening and asked me for some bread after consuming half a loaf earlier in the day, I certainly would not give her a stone. But I probably wouldn't give her bread, either. I know that there are better things to give her in this situation. Maybe some string cheese. Maybe a piece of fruit. Maybe I'll surprise her with something she's never tried before, and it will become her favorite snack. Maybe it's almost dinnertime, and she should wait a little while so she can enjoy a good meal.
Somehow, some way, she is going to receive something good. She may not necessarily receive the same thing that she asked for, but it won't mean that I don't exist or that I don't love her. What she receives will be on my terms, as a parent who loves her and knows how to provide the best for her.
If I, being evil (or at least mortal and imperfect), know how to give good things to my children, how much more does my perfect Heavenly Father know how to give good things to His children when they ask Him! It may not be exactly what we asked for, which is completely understandable when we realize the limitations of our mortal perspective. What we receive might first require patience. But we will receive good things in response to our petitions. And it will be on His terms, as a parent who loves us and knows (far better than we do) how to provide the best for us.
"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall fine; knock, and it shall be opened unto you:
"For every one that asketh receiveth, and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.
"Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent?
"If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?"
I was pondering this passage today, knowing that some feel disappointed when they don't receive what they asked for. Some question God's love for them (or even His existence) because a prayer seemed to go unanswered. But I happen to know that all prayers are heard, recorded, and answered. I know that every one who asks will indeed receive.
As I pondered the idea of giving good gifts to my children, the remaining fragments of my mind recalled that we were almost out of bread. It's a common situation, because my daughter loves to make her own sandwiches for breakfast and lunch, and she also raids the bread box for snacks. If Emma came to me one evening and asked me for some bread after consuming half a loaf earlier in the day, I certainly would not give her a stone. But I probably wouldn't give her bread, either. I know that there are better things to give her in this situation. Maybe some string cheese. Maybe a piece of fruit. Maybe I'll surprise her with something she's never tried before, and it will become her favorite snack. Maybe it's almost dinnertime, and she should wait a little while so she can enjoy a good meal.
Somehow, some way, she is going to receive something good. She may not necessarily receive the same thing that she asked for, but it won't mean that I don't exist or that I don't love her. What she receives will be on my terms, as a parent who loves her and knows how to provide the best for her.
If I, being evil (or at least mortal and imperfect), know how to give good things to my children, how much more does my perfect Heavenly Father know how to give good things to His children when they ask Him! It may not be exactly what we asked for, which is completely understandable when we realize the limitations of our mortal perspective. What we receive might first require patience. But we will receive good things in response to our petitions. And it will be on His terms, as a parent who loves us and knows (far better than we do) how to provide the best for us.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Rock Solid Stable!
That was how the radiologist assessed my condition!
It was a long wait before we knew for certain, because the perfusion report took longer than expected. But I had my prayer cushion supporting me, and all was well!
It was a long wait before we knew for certain, because the perfusion report took longer than expected. But I had my prayer cushion supporting me, and all was well!
Monday, January 25, 2010
Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow...
It's MRI day
Tomorrow
Bet your bottom dollar
That tomorrow
Will be fun!
Just thinkin' about
Tomorrow
Hope the stuff that once caused
So much sorrow
Will be done!
When they see my display
Of grey
Brain matter,
Hope they lift up their chin,
And grin,
And saaaaaaaay...
(ohhhhhhhh...)
"You'll have many more
'tomorrows'!"
(Still, don't put off life
Until tomorrow --
SEIZE THE DAY!!!)
Tomorrow, tomorrow,
I love ya, tomorrow!
And thank God
For those who pray!!!!
Tomorrow
Bet your bottom dollar
That tomorrow
Will be fun!
Just thinkin' about
Tomorrow
Hope the stuff that once caused
So much sorrow
Will be done!
When they see my display
Of grey
Brain matter,
Hope they lift up their chin,
And grin,
And saaaaaaaay...
(ohhhhhhhh...)
"You'll have many more
'tomorrows'!"
(Still, don't put off life
Until tomorrow --
SEIZE THE DAY!!!)
Tomorrow, tomorrow,
I love ya, tomorrow!
And thank God
For those who pray!!!!
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
So now what do I call this?
...and...FORTY-NINE?
...and...4-1? 4.083?
...and...HIGH-FIVE: THE FIRST MONTH?
Whatever it's called, it's another month of survival under my belt, and something to be grateful for!
...and...4-1? 4.083?
...and...HIGH-FIVE: THE FIRST MONTH?
Whatever it's called, it's another month of survival under my belt, and something to be grateful for!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Being There
I was there today for another milestone: my daughter's first talk in Primary at church! Four years ago Emma was still an infant, and I wasn't even allowed to lift her out of her crib because I was recovering from neurosurgery. At that time, milestones like this seemed like a long shot -- but still something to hope for.
With no stage fright and only a little help, Emma walked up to the little microphone in front of the other Primary children and read her talk:
"We believe in God. I am a child of God. God is the Father of my spirit. We are all part of God's family.
"We believe in Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ is the Son of God. Jesus Christ is our Savior. He saves us from death and sin.
"Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love me. They love you, too. We should love each other. We are all children of God.
"In the name of Jesus Christ, amen."
(Amen!)
With no stage fright and only a little help, Emma walked up to the little microphone in front of the other Primary children and read her talk:
"We believe in God. I am a child of God. God is the Father of my spirit. We are all part of God's family.
"We believe in Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ is the Son of God. Jesus Christ is our Savior. He saves us from death and sin.
"Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love me. They love you, too. We should love each other. We are all children of God.
"In the name of Jesus Christ, amen."
(Amen!)
Friday, December 25, 2009
Let Earth Receive Her King
Merry Christmas!
Yesterday it snowed, and as soon as the kids noticed the flurries outside our window they went running through the house, yelling, "It's a miracle! A miracle!!" I immediately thought of the song from the movie Charlotte's Web ("...just another ordinary miracle today...") and was flooded with thoughts of the many miracles that have surrounded us, both big and small.
On Sunday I "Handel-ed" Messiah again, and loved it. (I hope the audience loved it, too.) Last month my right ear underwent surgery. For the past four years my right brain has been under assault. But they still let me sing, and no one threw tomatoes at me. Earlier that day I led the choir and sang in a quartet in church. Today our family went to a nursing home to visit and sing with the residents there. Any venue is a joy.
Speaking of joy, we met a resident named Joy today. When we approached the nursing station and asked who needed a visitor, her name came up first. She was lying in her bed, looking very sad and alone. She didn't speak often, and when she did it was hard to hear. She said that it hadn't been a very good day for her, and she just wanted to lie still and be quiet. When we suggested a song, she consented. And then she brightened as we started with "Joy to the World." By the time we finished our visit she had opened up to us, and it was a precious moment. We saw others, and soon we had a following as residents would wheel along and join with us as we visited rooms.
No one at the nursing home was expecting us to come, but they all received us very kindly and graciously. And we received them as our new friends. Together we blessed each other. As we left, my son was especially happy, knowing that something good had happened. We all felt it. I kept thinking of the words we sang: "let earth receive her King!"
He is given to us as the greatest gift of love, and there are many ways we can receive Him. We can receive his healing, whether physical, emotional, or spiritual. We can receive His word and live according to it. We can receive His promises and trust in them. We can receive His spirit and discover peace. We can receive His goodness and share it with others by doing good works. We can receive all things with gratitude and see our blessings multiply.
This year has been a happy one as we celebrate Christmas. In years past we have had less happy circumstances. No matter what, however, there is always room to receive our King.
Yesterday it snowed, and as soon as the kids noticed the flurries outside our window they went running through the house, yelling, "It's a miracle! A miracle!!" I immediately thought of the song from the movie Charlotte's Web ("...just another ordinary miracle today...") and was flooded with thoughts of the many miracles that have surrounded us, both big and small.
On Sunday I "Handel-ed" Messiah again, and loved it. (I hope the audience loved it, too.) Last month my right ear underwent surgery. For the past four years my right brain has been under assault. But they still let me sing, and no one threw tomatoes at me. Earlier that day I led the choir and sang in a quartet in church. Today our family went to a nursing home to visit and sing with the residents there. Any venue is a joy.
Speaking of joy, we met a resident named Joy today. When we approached the nursing station and asked who needed a visitor, her name came up first. She was lying in her bed, looking very sad and alone. She didn't speak often, and when she did it was hard to hear. She said that it hadn't been a very good day for her, and she just wanted to lie still and be quiet. When we suggested a song, she consented. And then she brightened as we started with "Joy to the World." By the time we finished our visit she had opened up to us, and it was a precious moment. We saw others, and soon we had a following as residents would wheel along and join with us as we visited rooms.
No one at the nursing home was expecting us to come, but they all received us very kindly and graciously. And we received them as our new friends. Together we blessed each other. As we left, my son was especially happy, knowing that something good had happened. We all felt it. I kept thinking of the words we sang: "let earth receive her King!"
He is given to us as the greatest gift of love, and there are many ways we can receive Him. We can receive his healing, whether physical, emotional, or spiritual. We can receive His word and live according to it. We can receive His promises and trust in them. We can receive His spirit and discover peace. We can receive His goodness and share it with others by doing good works. We can receive all things with gratitude and see our blessings multiply.
This year has been a happy one as we celebrate Christmas. In years past we have had less happy circumstances. No matter what, however, there is always room to receive our King.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
...and...FOUR!
I've just completed my fourth year of survival. (HIGH FIVE!)
The fifth year has just begun. (Hi, Five!)
This is like a mini-jubilee (one-tenth of a jubilee, to be exact). I've been thinking about what I want to do in this year.
Another Messiah performance is an easy pick. That's coming up on the 20th, and hopefully again on Easter Sunday. During auditions for the 2006 Easter concert, my brother Jim predicted that four years later people would see me coming to the audition and say, "Here comes Sister Oakes again, saying this may be her last year for Messiah." At the time I appreciated his confidence, but I thought it was pretty ambitious. However, here we are. In fact, after my last MRI, Jim called me and pretended to be from the Messiah Soloist Auditions Fraud Department, investigating allegations of a person faking a brain tumor to get some stage time.
Another book would also be nice. I just received a contract from a publisher for Jake the Puppy and Emma the Cat, based on a poem that I wrote when my daughter was a baby. In the spirit of the jubilee, maybe I need to free my other half-finished manuscripts from bondage. And maybe the stuff in my closets, too.
Being here for my daughter's fifth birthday next summer is very high on the list. Family vacations, reunions with the "gaggle" and other fun ideas have surfaced as candidates for this year of celebration.
As always, the passage of a milestone reminds me that I have received the gift of life, and like anything I receive, I want to use it faithfully and gratefully for something good. Above all, I pray that I will use this new year to help make manifest the mercies of God.
The fifth year has just begun. (Hi, Five!)
This is like a mini-jubilee (one-tenth of a jubilee, to be exact). I've been thinking about what I want to do in this year.
Another Messiah performance is an easy pick. That's coming up on the 20th, and hopefully again on Easter Sunday. During auditions for the 2006 Easter concert, my brother Jim predicted that four years later people would see me coming to the audition and say, "Here comes Sister Oakes again, saying this may be her last year for Messiah." At the time I appreciated his confidence, but I thought it was pretty ambitious. However, here we are. In fact, after my last MRI, Jim called me and pretended to be from the Messiah Soloist Auditions Fraud Department, investigating allegations of a person faking a brain tumor to get some stage time.
Another book would also be nice. I just received a contract from a publisher for Jake the Puppy and Emma the Cat, based on a poem that I wrote when my daughter was a baby. In the spirit of the jubilee, maybe I need to free my other half-finished manuscripts from bondage. And maybe the stuff in my closets, too.
Being here for my daughter's fifth birthday next summer is very high on the list. Family vacations, reunions with the "gaggle" and other fun ideas have surfaced as candidates for this year of celebration.
As always, the passage of a milestone reminds me that I have received the gift of life, and like anything I receive, I want to use it faithfully and gratefully for something good. Above all, I pray that I will use this new year to help make manifest the mercies of God.
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
What's your favorite post?
This blog is more than four years old now. I am curious...does anyone have a favorite post?
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Happy Thanksgiving and Happy Blog Birthday!
After a few "blast" emails to family and friends, this blog was born on November 21, 2005. This is a happy belated blog birthday! Going back and reviewing those first posts has been an interesting experience.
It was four years ago today that I was going in for my second MRI -- the one with VECTOR VISION! I had no idea back then how my life was going to change.
My mom likes to tell my brothers and me that some of the things you worry about will never happen, and the rest will never be as bad as you think, and she's right. However, at first, I thought I had found the exception. I was naive enough to think at first that as long as my tumor was operable, all would be fine if I could just make it through surgery. So the news that this tumor was cancerous in a really bad way was the realization of the worst possible scenario.
However, four years and many words later, Mom has been proven right again. On this day of Thanksgiving, I have more to be grateful for than I did in Thanksgiving 2005. And while glioblastoma was never on my wish list, there is no lack of sincerity in my gratitude today for how the experience has blessed me.
It was four years ago today that I was going in for my second MRI -- the one with VECTOR VISION! I had no idea back then how my life was going to change.
My mom likes to tell my brothers and me that some of the things you worry about will never happen, and the rest will never be as bad as you think, and she's right. However, at first, I thought I had found the exception. I was naive enough to think at first that as long as my tumor was operable, all would be fine if I could just make it through surgery. So the news that this tumor was cancerous in a really bad way was the realization of the worst possible scenario.
However, four years and many words later, Mom has been proven right again. On this day of Thanksgiving, I have more to be grateful for than I did in Thanksgiving 2005. And while glioblastoma was never on my wish list, there is no lack of sincerity in my gratitude today for how the experience has blessed me.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Messiah 2009!
I've got half a mind to sing again!
December 20, 2009 (two shows)
Artisan Center Theater
418 E Pipeline Rd
Hurst, TX
(817) 284-1200
Free admission, reservations required
Audience is invited to sing along!
December 20, 2009 (two shows)
Artisan Center Theater
418 E Pipeline Rd
Hurst, TX
(817) 284-1200
Free admission, reservations required
Audience is invited to sing along!
Thursday, November 12, 2009
...and...FORTY-SEVEN!
Another month of survival is safely (and gratefully) in the can!
These milestones are always a time for reflection: Was I a good steward with the time I've been given? What have I done in exchange for another month of life? I'm very grateful for each day, and hope that I use it well.
These milestones are always a time for reflection: Was I a good steward with the time I've been given? What have I done in exchange for another month of life? I'm very grateful for each day, and hope that I use it well.
Monday, November 09, 2009
"Thankful Fours"
Last Saturday was a day to be thankful "four":
On Saturday, FOUR Mighty Oakes participated with thousands of others in the FOURTH ANNUAL Dallas-Ft.Worth Brain Tumor Walk, benefiting the National Brain Tumor Society. We were one of more than seventy members on my doctor's team, "Fink's Fighters." (That's Dr. Fink on the left, celebrating with us after we crossed the finish line.) When we moved to the Dallas area FOURteen years ago, I had no idea that I would later be so glad to live in an area with such a skilled neuro-oncologist who was so actively involved in research.
FOUR YEARS ago, when they were holding their first walk in D/FW, I was training for a 5K run. I was having seizures (just didn't know it yet) and would later find out that I had a grade FOUR brain tumor. It changed my life for the better.
FOUR MONTHS ago, I earned my black belt in karate. I was alive and kicking long past my projected expiration date.
FOUR DAYS prior to this weekend's walk, I had ear surgery. I was on my surgeon's orders not to run this weekend, but I was able to walk the 5K course, and I didn't lose my balance and fall into the Trinity River!
This was a good way to celebrate the beginning of my FOURTH year of good MRI scans!
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Surgery was a Ten
Yesterday's tympanoplasty was a "10," both literally and figuratively. It was the tenth surgery in my 42 years of medical history, and it scored a perfect "10" with me. My surgeon (Dr. Robert Owens), the hospital (Baylor UMC Dallas), and all of the staff were great, and the outcome was much easier than expected.
The only thing that wasn't a "10" was my pain scale, and that's a good thing! I was expecting lots of pain and balance problems, but so far I've been walking straight and managing with an occasional ice pack and over-the-counter Tylenol tablet. I'm fuzzy from the anesthesia and pretty tired from the steroids that kept the swelling down (and me up all night), but I can't complain. It's just a reminder that I have survived GBM long enough to start dealing with some of the long-term effects of treatment!
The only thing that wasn't a "10" was my pain scale, and that's a good thing! I was expecting lots of pain and balance problems, but so far I've been walking straight and managing with an occasional ice pack and over-the-counter Tylenol tablet. I'm fuzzy from the anesthesia and pretty tired from the steroids that kept the swelling down (and me up all night), but I can't complain. It's just a reminder that I have survived GBM long enough to start dealing with some of the long-term effects of treatment!
Monday, November 02, 2009
Stumbling Blocks or Building Blocks
Only God can make a real eardrum, but my surgeon is going to try and make a reasonable facsimile tomorrow. I'm anticipating a painful and wobbly recovery, but hey -- this isn't exactly brain surgery! And I'm looking forward to having an eardrum again. I thought I had stopped taking things for granted, until I realized how much I missed having an eardrum, and how I never really gave it a thought until it wasn't there for me.
(So for those of you with eardrums, give a prayer of thanks!!!)
Something else to be thankful for today -- I wrote another article that was published this month. It's called "Stumbling Blocks or Building Blocks," and it's a short capture of what I've learned about the challenges we all face in life. You can read it online at desertsaintsmagazine.com. (The article is on page 20.)
(So for those of you with eardrums, give a prayer of thanks!!!)
Something else to be thankful for today -- I wrote another article that was published this month. It's called "Stumbling Blocks or Building Blocks," and it's a short capture of what I've learned about the challenges we all face in life. You can read it online at desertsaintsmagazine.com. (The article is on page 20.)
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
I'm Walking!
I'll be four days post-op (tympanoplasty) but as long as I keep it to a walk, I'll be joining Dr. Fink's team (Fink's Fighters) at the 4th Annual Dallas/Ft. Worth Brain Tumor Walk on November 7!
This event benefits the National Brain Tumor Society (NBTS), which funds vital brain tumor research across North America. As the benefactor of this research, I am happy to support this cause. My husband, son, and daughter are joining me in this, and we each have a $250 fundraising goal so that the "Mighty Oakes" can contribute $1000 to NBTS.
This means the four of us are each looking for 10 people willing to donate $25, or 25 people willing to donate $10. (See, I can still do math!) Donations can be made online using the links below:
My fundraising page:
Dallas-Ft. Worth Brain Tumor Walk:
Jared's fundraising page:
Dallas-Ft. Worth Brain Tumor Walk:
Jacob's fundraising page:
Dallas-Ft. Worth Brain Tumor Walk:
Emma's fundraising page:
Dallas-Ft. Worth Brain Tumor Walk:
If you're in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area and would like to walk on the Fink's Fighters team, go to Dallas-Ft. Worth Brain Tumor Walk: and click on the "join team" link.
Any and all support is very much appreciated!
This event benefits the National Brain Tumor Society (NBTS), which funds vital brain tumor research across North America. As the benefactor of this research, I am happy to support this cause. My husband, son, and daughter are joining me in this, and we each have a $250 fundraising goal so that the "Mighty Oakes" can contribute $1000 to NBTS.
This means the four of us are each looking for 10 people willing to donate $25, or 25 people willing to donate $10. (See, I can still do math!) Donations can be made online using the links below:
My fundraising page:
Dallas-Ft. Worth Brain Tumor Walk:
Jared's fundraising page:
Dallas-Ft. Worth Brain Tumor Walk:
Jacob's fundraising page:
Dallas-Ft. Worth Brain Tumor Walk:
Emma's fundraising page:
Dallas-Ft. Worth Brain Tumor Walk:
If you're in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area and would like to walk on the Fink's Fighters team, go to Dallas-Ft. Worth Brain Tumor Walk: and click on the "join team" link.
Any and all support is very much appreciated!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Clear Sky and Clear Head
The rainy weather lifted today, and along with the cleared skies came a clear verdict on the MRI. "Stable, and low perfusion, consistent with treatment effect." (Translation: still only seeing scar tissue from the radiation.)
As I was heading down to the medical center today, a phrase from a favorite hymn kept going through (what's left of) my mind: "Thy hope, thy confidence, let nothing shake..."
As I was heading down to the medical center today, a phrase from a favorite hymn kept going through (what's left of) my mind: "Thy hope, thy confidence, let nothing shake..."
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