Healing is Hard Work (Migrated from PostHope)

 ....harder than I had imagined.  I've been home for close to a week now, to be honest I've sorta lost track of the days.  There is much brewing inside of me in terms of reflection, but there is so much to heal on the inside of my body and I am learning to live with a certain level of pain.  The energy for written reflection stirs emotions that I am keeping at a distance for now.  Any "heaving" in my chest provokes pain in the muscles and tissues that have been cut to remove the tumor and affected organs.  

So I am busy at the hard work of healing . . . figuring out which tasks are on my NOT to do list is of utmost importance, but sitting with my laptop keyboard here in the recliner I inherited from Nana (my grandmother) has comfortably moved to my "to-do" list today.  I have follow-up appointments with the surgeon and my primary care doctor (one of which will be in-person in San Francisco, hopefully to have my remaining 12 stitches removed) this week. 

So my days are filled with a lot of sitting/resting/reclining (a.k.a. letting my body heal).  I watch the clock for my next round of meds - nothing too spectacular, mostly just tylenol and ibuprofen to keep my pain level hovering around 4-5 and other stuff to keep my newly sculpted digestive system running smoothly.  

In between the sitting/resting/reclining I get up and walk around the house and perform light weight tasks that keep my body and mind from too much atrophy.  I am eager to ask about some physical therapy to see what I can do to strengthen these muscles as they heal.  Oh, and there is this fun little breathing apparatus that I'm supposed to use to keep my lungs healthy and pneumonia free.  It's sorta like a game and for the first time I have imagined having grandchildren someday who might like to play this game with me.  

Thank you for all your prayers and cards and texts and phone calls and words of encouragement and practical helps that have been offered.  I'll wrap this up here. I haven't had a nap yet this morning, so perhaps it is time for that.  I just wanted to say "hi" and let you all know that I am well, doing the hard work of healing, sustained by your prayers and God's love. 

In the bold confidence of God's care, 

Dawn Noelle

Heading Home...(Migrated from PostHope)

After a few false starts and even some tears, we seem to have a pain management plan that I can carry home with me. Jason and my father will be driving into the city tomorrow morning to pick me up and take me home to continue my recovery there.  I am grateful for a little extra time here just to feel comfortable with the new meds plan while I have doctors and nurses within reach to answer my questions and keep an eye on me.

Since I was originally told to plan for a 10-day hospital stay, heading home on day 8 feels miraculous.   I am also feeling a little more focused and able to reflect in this moment.  ....at least I was, but then....  after just that first paragraph and a little breakfast, I completely "passed out" - not literally, but I fell asleep pretty hard before finishing breakfast.

I'm being encouraged to eat more.  That might be easier once I am out of the hospital and have some more appetizing choices within reach.  I never knew there was such a thing as bad ice-cream....that is an impressive accomplishment, to find an ice-cream I have no desire to eat. 🙄

Writing is a life-giving practice for me and I am eager to share my reflections.  There may be more of those in the days to come but I am comforted by the words from my sister that she picked up living in Bali:  "Slowly. Slowly."

Today I will dedicate my remaining energy to resting, healing, preparing to go home, and writing some notes of gratitude to the amazing team of care-givers who have accompanied me in this part of my journey.   

If I don't find the energy to write some of my more reflective thoughts here in the next couple of weeks, you can expect an update after my oncology appointment February 9.  

Learning what it means to rest in the bold confidence of God's care, 

Dawn Noelle

Fan for a day (Migrated from PostHope)

 I (yes, me, Dawn!) am so excited to be writing my own entry today. All the feels and gratitude and reflection that have welled up inside of me are, once again, more than the energy in my body is able to connect from heart to mind to keyboard in a coherent way to share.  I am entering day 6 since the surgery.  After a rough day yesterday of weening off the fentanyl epidural, pain seems manageable once again.  I have reflected much on the simultaneous frailty/resilience of the human body during my stay here, though articulation of my thoughts and reflections - is more than the grogginess of my mind will allow at the moment.

I get excited about the small things - like watching the Niners play the Packers last night (ok, so I actually slept through most of it) and then viewing some celebratory fireworks from my hospital room. I'm told that I have just about the best view in the whole hospital. I don't usually watch much TV and even less sports, but it was nice to redeem my "football" association and join in the community feel of a positive shared experience here in the city now that I'm not carrying around a sport-sized mass inside of me anymore.  Also, there are potatoes on my breakfast plate this morning!

We might have a more logistical update this afternoon once I've spoken with the doctors about how my pain management is coming along and looking at what the steps/milestones remain before being cleared for discharge.  Please keep this process and the logistics involved in your prayers.

I'm also up for brief phone calls. This introvert is feeling quite chatty, but the exertion on my diaphragm depletes my energy reserves quickly. 

I'm including the view from my room from a few sunsets ago.  

Love, 

Dawn Noelle

To Everything There is a Season (Migrated from PostHope)

Dawn's recovery process is moving along nicely. I've been able to have several phone conversations with her since her surgery. I have returned to Waypoint (what we're calling our home) and am in the process of building her a bed. Since the mattress is on the floor, I felt that it would be prudent to build a bed so that Dawn doesn't have to do any more "work" than necessary during her recovery process once she returns home. The bed is coming along nicely.

Initially, the doctors told Dawn to expect a ten day stay in the hospital but some of the paper work she has says five to seven days. So we're hoping that no matter how many days that she'll be released at the proper moment and not a moment before. Doctors have told her that she is to try to walk around the halls at least three times a day and I know that she did at least one lap today. She spends her time either sleeping or trying to figure out something interesting to watch on TV. They have her on fentanyl and oxycodone for the pain and they plan on removing the epidural tomorrow.

A couple of weeks ago I had this reflection that I shared with Dawn and I feel like sharing it with you all. I look at the season that we are in and I know that others are in a worse season than we are and some are in better seasons. This isn't about comparison but rather looking at the tests and trials that we are in and becoming or being trustworthy and faithful in that specific season. This is what I shared with Dawn. I hope that you are encouraged by it as well.

 

Ecclesiastes 3:1-2       {Hebrew words are in parenthesis followed by definitions}

To everything there is a season, (Zeman - Appointed time, Set time)
A time (Eth - Time (of an event), Experiences) for every purpose (Chephets - Delights, pleasure, longing) under heaven:
2 A time to be born, (Yalad - Bear, bring forth, Travail, To declare one's birth, act as a midwife, declare pedigree)
And a time to die; (Muth - To kill, To have one executed, To put to death, To perish)
A time to plant, (Nata - To fasten, to fix, to establish, to strike in)
And a time to pluck what is planted; (aqar - To root up, to pluck up (By the roots), to cut (as in Hamstring), To exterminate)

 

I know that people use this scripture for funerals, but as I read it...with the  word definitions, I see that....this is where we're at. 

Season (Appointed time): We were brought to Rail Road Flat for a reason and a purpose. But is this the right season for us to sprout....or is it time to lay down roots?

Time (Time of an event)/Purpose (Delights): Our purpose is to bring Jesus to this area. Are we going to be ready when we are faced with our tasks?

Born (Bear, bring forth, act as a midwife): I'm mindful that we can't and mustn't rush God's timing. But the birthing process is painful and messy...and because I'm aware of this...my discouragement in the lack of friendship is only temporary. My internal fretting about money and supplies is only temporary. Though it's in my nature to be intense and driven, I know that in this moment...slow is smooth and smooth is fast.  The process of birth, there are moments of contractions (pain) and moments of resting. There is loss of fluids, intentional breathing, screaming and travailing. Sometimes there is an extended time of waiting before the pain begins. The birthing process is painful and messy and it's the fruit of that birth that makes the birthing process worth the pain. The pain of birth is temporary and it gives way to immense joy. 

Die (To Kill, to execute): Looking at where we live (the spiritual area), I'm asking myself and asking God to show me what fleshly thing I must kill so that when we are fully released into what we desire to do, my flesh will not hinder us.

Plant (To fasten, Fix, Establish, to strike in): What are we to fix? What are we to fasten? What are we to establish? I find it interesting that this one word has four different definitions, each that are accomplished by different actions. I'm sensing that we must be extremely strategic as we move forward and we must assess HOW we are to plant.

Pluck (to root up, to cut/hamstring, to exterminate): Looking at RRF with spiritual eyes, what are the targets that we need to pluck? How do we go about doing that and with whom? 

 

In conclusion, though the above reflection is specific to us, I hope that you can look at this reflection and personalize it to yourself and make the most of whatever season of life that you are currently in. Seasons are just that...seasons. They don't last forever. New seasons may currently seem to be barren and empty, but those can be the best seasons because it should be promoting rest and recuperation and you know that the next season brings new life and sunshine. As Dawn and I head into a season of physical recuperation, this time will also allow us to pause and draw closer together and to draw closer to our Creator. We hope that whatever season you're in that you can do the same. 

The Second Down...(Migrated from PostHope)

 Jason Here giving an update on how Dawn is doing after her surgery.

The Walk

Dawn got up this morning around 4:30 to get herself ready for surgery. We left the house we are staying at just a little bit before 5:30 and we walked the approximate 15 blocks to the hospital. Walking there and knowing that I'd have to leave her was bittersweet. Bitter in the fact that I would not be by her side when she woke up and entered the recovery process, and it was sweet knowing that she would be rid of this parasite that was sucking away her energy and appetite. The walk was quiet between us and at times it seemed like my feet were slogging in mud. Fighting to keep my mind focused and my emotions at bay, I had to be intentional in my words and thoughts. I reached for her hand to hold and as we walked down the street I wondered who was being comforted more, me or her? Walking up the steps to the hospital doors was emotionally taxing because the last time I left someone at this hospital, they didn't make it out of surgery. I had to fight hard to keep those type of thoughts out of my mind. So once we arrived at the doors, I kissed her and embraced her. Then we prayed. I committed her into the hands of God and asked Him to take care of her and that regardless of what the outcome was that He receive the glory. I stood there and watched as she walked into the building and I stayed there until I couldn't see her anymore then I walked back to the house. As I walked back, Brian Doerksen's song You Shine came to mind:

Why should I fear man?
When You made the heavens
Why should I be afraid?
When You put the stars in place

Why should I lose heart?
When I know how great you are
Why should I give up?
When Your plans are full of love

The Wait

After arriving back at the house, this quote from Helen Roseveare came to mind:

"Can you thank Me (God) for trusting you with this experience even though I may never tell you why"?

"Yes, Lord. You can trust me. I may not know what's in front of me at the moment, but as long as I'm in Your shadow then I know I'm safe".

So many times we talk about trusting God, but we rarely ask the question, "Can God trust us"? Knowing that my world could potentially go into a tale spin, I choose to be trustworthy with whatever the outcome is.

I then put on my headphones and spent some time in worship. I then did some scripture reading and talked a good friend on the phone while I ate a hamburger from my favorite hamburger joint, Whizburger.

The News

At last the phone rang with the update:

The Doctor said that he's pleased with the outcome and that Dawn is doing well. He stated that they did remove the left kidney, the spleen, a small part of the colon and part of her diaphragm but that they were able to remove all the cancer. He stated that she didn't have nor need a colostomy bag and that the bleeding was minimal so she shouldn't need to much blood to replace what was lost. That was the extent of the entire conversation.

I rejoice in knowing that all the cancer was able to be removed. It's going to be an interesting road to recovery but I'm confident that Dawn will walk that road faithfully and with determination. information from earlier conversations with her doctor state that she will be spending around 10 days in the hospital before she'll be released to return home.

Getting to the next down

We're moving down the field towards recovery (Endzone). I now have to return to our home and prepare for her arrival. I appreciate those who have reached out to me. You kind words will be remembered. Thank you.

I will update again when I have pertinent information. Until that time....

Answered prayer...the countdown begins. (Migrated from PostHope)

 I feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief now that I have a negative COVID test and am cleared for surgery tomorrow.  This result came just in time for me to start my pre-op meds.  The relief has given way to nausea as those first 4 pills hit my empty (clear-liquids only) stomach....so I am realizing my energy to write has waned and the words of gratitude I feel for each and every prayer and word of encouragement and act of kindness and care I have received just aren't going to make it from my heart to the keyboard before surgery. I'll be checking in at 6am tomorrow morning. The hospital is pretty locked-down, not even allowing visitors into waiting rooms.  Jason will be the one posting until I am able to do so once again.  I am overwhelmed with the goodness and love that sustains us in this moment.  

In the bold confidence of God's care, 

Dawn Noelle

Some Disappointment...mostly JOY...(Migrated from PostHope)

 So this will be mostly a logistical post as we are preparing to travel to San Francisco this morning.  Who is the "we" you may ask?  Chrissy and Casey Dow will be dropping me and Jason in San Francisco today so I can go in for my COVID test tomorrow (Monday).  As long as I test negative Monday, I will check-in to the hospital at 6am on Tuesday.  The surgery will likely last 6-7 hours and I am looking at a 10 day hospital stay.  The disappointing (but not surprising) news is that there will be no visitors allowed at this time due to high COVID infection rates in the Bay Area.  Once I am safely out of surgery, Jason will likely return to our home in Calaveras County on Wednesday.  My father, Shelby Lawson Smith, will be staying back at the house to take care of our dog, Samwise. 

Here is the joyful news that fills my heart with contentment.  We are still planning to celebrate a wedding feast in August, but we signed our marriage covenant in the presence of God and my father here at the house last night.  Jason will be the one posting updates here (from my account) once I am admitted to the hospital until I am at a point in my recovery where I can look at a screen and type on a keyboard again.  

So, I share with you here, the joy of my heart, a picture of the union of Jason William Ross and Dawn Noelle Smith Beutler. 

New every morning...(Migrated from PostHope)

 Quick updates for those who are here for the details. You can find the more reflective stuff below the "bullet points":

• God has answered prayer and gifted us with a place to stay while in San Francisco!  Special thanks to Monica Ponce who put the ask out to Grace Fellowship and to Michelle Chinn who answered.  It's hard to know how to humbly accept such an enormous gift - but we are deeply grateful. 
• Please pray for protection from COVID infection for family members and myself.  I am taking all necessary precautions and am scheduled for my pre-op COVID test on Monday, January 17 (which also happens to be my father's 75th birthday)!  A positive COVID test would delay my surgery and a negative test at this point with the high infection rates in the region would truly be a miracle from God - I am a firm believer in miracles. 

Now for the reflection...

As my name suggests, I have pretty much always been a morning person.  Watching the sun rise has always been my preference, though they are usually not as colorful as the typical sunset.  There have been many preparations in the works this week before my trip to San Francisco and admittance to the hospital but I still take time in the mornings to enjoy the quite awakening of each new day and hear the still, small voice of God calming my heart.  On October 31, 2021 I opened my mother's last journal - only a few pages used - and decided to make it my own. This journal was gifted to her by Church of the Sojourners, with notes of love attached, including one from me, as we both entered into a covenant membership/commitment with the family I called home for about 15 years.  So, both this journal and this unusually colorful sunrise (the camera on my phone doesn't really do it justice) are a gift to me in these moments, along with the daily scriptures that have been my companion for the entirety of my faith journey.

So here we go... (Migrated from PostHope account)

 It seems the time has come to connect folks to this space as a way of staying updated.  On December 15 an ultrasound and follow-up CT scan discovered a football sized tumor in my abdomen, pressing against many of my organs and partially encasing my left kidney.  A few months ago I had noticed and became concerned with the volume of my upper abdomen growing in unusual ways - and a hardness on my left side, a little fullness and general discomfort - but in general no pain. It wasn't until November, at my first in-person doctor visit since the pandemic, that I mentioned this and I was referred for some imaging. 

Now I am preparing for surgery on January 18. I'm gonna stick with the "football - not a fan" title of this website, though the surgeon said "more like a basketball" - it's definitely not round. They will do their best to remove the tumor and it is possible that I will lose a kidney, my spleen, and part of my colon.  The surgery will likely take 6-7 hours at Zuckerberg San Francisco General Hospital and I will likely have a 10 day hospital stay.  I won't be able to drive for another 6 weeks after that.  Though I now live in Calaveras County (three hours from SF) I was in the midst of transferring my care closer to home when this tumor was discovered, right before the holidays - so it seemed best to continue with what was set in motion with a surgical team there since this is a time-sensitive matter.  I am scheduled for a visit with an oncologist in SF on February 9 and at that point hope to discuss the possibility of transitioning to care closer to home.  

So, in the meantime, pieces are falling into place for a care plan for me.  My father will be flying in from Texas so that he and Jason can take turns "holding down the fort" so to speak here at the house, caring for our dog, the house, and property and readying things for my return and recovery - and having someone close by in SF during my hospital stay. My son, Mateo will also be coming from Southern California to help with those rotations during part of that time. 

ONE BIG NEED:  A "home base" with minimal human contact close to the hospital in San Francisco - preferably ground floor, starting on Sunday, January 16, most likely through the end of the month until I can be set up here at home.  The COVID case counts in SF are really high at the moment (vaccinated and unvaccinated alike), and it is essential that I not test positive for COVID before my surgery, and after surgery, if they do remove my spleen, I will be severely immunocompromised - thus the request for minimal human contact.  We will be looking into an AirBnB option - but this will likely be expensive, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to see what might be available and affordable through my networks/community/family (all ya'll Bay Area folks reading this).  

So this is feeling a little long, and I wanted to offer up a poem that I wrote the last week of December when we had 13 inches of snow on the ground.  

This weighted blanket of snow holds me still

until my restless heart settles into a deep steady rhythm

in sync with my breath. . . . 

Can the beat of my heart match the Father's in this warm embrace?

I wonder if this is what heaven is like

up to our knees in deep powdery snow

minus the bite of the cold

but filled with the joy of exploration

snowball throwing

snowman building

snow angel making

I can't really feel this tumor inside me and I wonder if I am already there. 

This place feels almost perfect . . .

and if I never leave it, I will only sorrow for the souls I will never meet again.

The angels are watching, rooting for us, I suppose, 

to find that entrance into goodness - a place where anxiety may cease.