Sad Philippines Cancer story….

Sister Kirchhoefer sent us this letter from the Philippines a couple of weeks ago.  As hard as we have it with this new trial, we are still so blessed!  Kayli is doing well and we are proud of her selfless service and the growth she is experiencing.



Its not uncommon for people here to come up to missionaries, especially the americans, and beg for money. we are instructed to not give money-it makes sense right? if people here found out we give money then we would be swarmed on the streets and people would only listen to our message in hopes that we would give them money. As much as it breaks my heart, we just say "patawad" (forgive) and keep moving. Earlier this mom came up to me with her shy kid at her heels. she takes off her hat so i can see her balding head. i can see the skin right above her shirt-rough, bumpy scars. She puts out her hand and asks me for money to help her pay for chemotherapy for breast cancer. talk about pulling on the heart strings-i was honestly stunned. no words came to my mouth. i looked at her and uttered a soft and pathetic "patawad" as she walked away quickly before i could bring myself together, she looked so disappointed. I cant imagine what she is feeling right now. I personally feel sick inside for my pathetic answer and that i didn't do anything to help her...

To be honest, there is a part of me that feels so beyond guilty that i am here so far away from whats happening with mom. I am so busy most of the time that i don't have time to worry or think too much about whats happening. i am trying to do my best here but i constantly feel like i am falling short. it hasn't hit me with whats happening because i cant see it-i am not there. i just cant stop thinking about this poor woman who i saw earlier-i cant imagine how hopeless she must feel. I just want you to know that even though i am not close to you. you guys are in my thoughts and prayers always (even if it is in the back of my head). even though the full extent of what is happening has not hit me yet...i am just trying to do my best here, and i love you so much. I am grateful that treatments are available to mom. i am grateful for the support system that we have because of so many amazing friends and family, and i am grateful for the hope that we can still feel from the gospel of Jesus Christ. I have had some of the hardest and trying moments of my life here. but i have also had the spirit speak to my heart and i have experienced my most joyful, happy, and contented moments of my life here. One thing that i have learned about "doing hard things" or trials-is that its hard (obviously), but its worth it. There is a God who knows us better than we know ourselves, and he will direct our lives for our own benefit. He knows what we need. We become strong through the battles and the faith that we gain through them. now i realize that is a lot easier said than done. i am doing it right now and constantly falling short and feel like a child just tripping and learning. But the most important part is that we get up and move forward. i read this quote this week:

"The greatest gift we can give those on both sides of the veil is to move forward with our heads held up in faith and hope in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, even if each step is taken with tears streaming down our faces."

The most important part is moving forward! And we don't lose our faith. I love you more than words can express. When i said bye to you all almost one year ago, i never thought things would be this hard. If i knew, then i would not have come haha (joke?) but, Heavenly Father loves us, so he is helping us all grow. 

I received news this morning that i am being transferred. I thought i would be here longer, but i guess not. words cannot express my feelings about this branch, or the people we are teaching, or my current companion. so i wont even try, just know that i will miss it here SO much. I have been here since December. I will let you know what happens next week! Have a good week :)

Kayli

p.s. We reached 39C this week.i think thats around 102F? We had a service project earlier (i attached a picture) and i got so burned haha. we cleaned a elementary school before classes start next week.

p.s.s. this week we went to one of our recent converts house right when they were starting to cook their dinner. we watched as he chased two ducks, cut their necks, plucked, and then fried/cut, and then we left right before they offered it to us haha. i just have never witnessed the whole process before, kind of interesting. kind of nasty at the same time. I love being a missionary in the philippines :) 

Arriving into Port

This morning, Wendi had surgery to insert a ‘chemo port’ to facilitate the whole chemotherapy process.  It sits just underneath her right collarbone under the skin.  When chemo time comes, they poke a needle through the skin directly into the port, which is connected directly to a major vein to ensure there is no delay in getting that poison right into the bloodstream.

It is an outpatient surgery, so we were there a total of about four hours, then I took a groggy, sore Wendi back home.  And the saga continues:  we drive to Landstuhl, Wendi is poked and prodded and does things she’d rather not do, then we drive home and recover until the next trip to LRMC.

However, it's good to know that everything was taken care of on the home front while we were at the hospital.  Kade had a cold, so we let him stay home to take care of recovering Alex.  For lunch he gave him Twizzlers and jelly beans (with the soup laid out on the counter) and when a friend came to check up on them, they were playing basketball.  We're in good hands.

As significant as a surgery is, that is not the big news.  We met with the oncologist yesterday for the first time.  Dr. Steele has been at LRMC for almost two years, yet leaves this summer in August.  She spent a solid hour and a half explaining what the next several months will look like.

There are basically two chemical regimens that Wendi will do.  The first it 8 weeks long with visits every two weeks, so four visits total.  This is the more difficult of the two regimens, the one that will wreak havoc on Wendi, sickness, nausea, hair loss, etc.  The Doc says things have gotten better and fewer people have the intense nausea as before, but the hair loss will definitely happen.  

The second drug will start two weeks after the first and run for 12 weeks with a weekly visit.  This chemical is a weaker drug that is reportedly easier for the body to handle – much less sickness and often the hair starts to grow back.  We also stopped into the the chemo administration room and saw about six people in their chairs all hooked up and watching TV.  Kinda depressing.

We will be doing radiation after that as well.  We’re not too sure of how that goes, but we have some time to think about it!  Radiation is not done at Landstuhl, so we will be going to a German hospital in Homburg, which is about 40 minutes away.  The Doc said to expect about 6 weeks of daily treatments, but we’ll learn more as that gets closer.

After hearing all of that, Wendi was a little overwhelmed, as you might imagine.  It made everything more real as it all gets closer.  First chemo visit – 4 June.

It’s such a small thing, really, losing one’s hair, but it is definitely a powerful, psychological side effect and the well-recognized, visible sign to everyone that you have cancer.  Much can be hidden, but not this one.  And Wendi has rock star hair, too!

I also can’t help but think of the ‘bloodletting’ days back in the medieval times.  The medical wisdom of the time thought that there was sickness in the blood and the best way to get rid of the sickness was to let the patient bleed out all that sickness just short of the point of death.  Yes, get rid of all that disease!  I picture the doctor approaching the patient with an explanation of the procedure and the patient saying, “yea, that sounds like a good idea, let’s do it.”

But now modern medicine has progressed so far that they tell us, “we’re going to get rid of all those bad cells by injecting poisonous chemicals into your body just short of death.  Oh, and you’ll probably have some lifetime side effects too.”  And we say, “OK, sign us up, let’s do it….” 

I admit, we do feel a little trapped, but then again, this has saved many, many good people, so here we go—

Mark K.

Ode to Momma K.

Shout out to all you amazing moms out there!  I hope that you are feeling loved, appreciated, and blessed for your efforts on this special Mother's Day.  I am amazed every day by the incredible women I have come in contact with in my life, and I hope you all know the enormous impact you have on the world around you.  However, today there is one mother in particular I would like to take a moment to recognize.
I'll admit, Mother's Day this year has hit a little closer to home than usual with my mom being sick.  Our family's experience with breast cancer has definitely made me realize more and more how special my mom is.
My mom is, without question, my best friend on earth. The funny thing is that she and I are total opposites in so many ways.  She's an undeniable people person and will talk to anyone about anything under the sun; on the other hand, I'm usually not the first to begin a conversation. But I never doubt that to my mom, I can say anything. She's the best listener! Just the other night we stayed up until almost three in the morning just talking. She's always there for me, but the amazing thing is that she's always there for everyone! She can always make the people around her feel comfortable and she is so gifted at welcoming others into her life.
Because my mom and I are so different, she has been able to teach me how to look at life with a whole different perspective. Mom is service-oriented and always looks for ways to fulfill her church callings, and always looks out for the underdog. Through her example I'm learning to be a better version of myself. I hope someday I can say I'm more like her.
Truly, my mom is amazing! I don't say it enough and my words will never do her justice. Happy Mother's Day Mom! Never forget how amazing you are! So many people are cheering for you :)
With Love,
Jenna Kirchhoefer                                                                        

Not a Hospital Record you want to hold….

We met with our general surgeon yesterday to schedule a time for another surgery.  Oh boy.  Wendi gets a chemo port just below her right shoulder.  It sits under the skin and connects to a vein with direct access to her heart (she has a great heart, by the way!).  The idea is to let her continue to heal from the first surgery, but get the port in with enough time to heal by chemo day.  Surgery scheduled for next Friday, the 16th.

While there the good doctor told us Wendi holds a personal record and what could very well be a hospital record too - his removal of 39 lymph nodes was a personal best!  What a feeling!….


We also called Oncology and have our first appointment there next Thursday, the 15th.  This will be a very informative appointment to meet the Oncologist and get a better idea of what the next few months will look like.  We'll find out the regimen that they have paired up to Wendi's specific cancer.  The general surgeon gave us a sneak peak:  we'll probably start chemo in 4 weeks, it might go through August or so, then do radiation after that.  We'll know much more next week and will pass it on.

Mark K.

More hospital visits--

So, I know the best route to the hospital from our house and from  the base.  I know how to route around the construction on A62.  By now I know all the good parking spots at the Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, which lot is closest to the OR, the surgery office and oncology.

Now you can add the 'Ear, Nose and Throat' office to my hospital knowledge base.  Alex had his tonsils out on Thursday and is doing a lot of laying around, watching movies and talking very softly!  He hasn't bounced the basketball now for 48 hours, which is also a nice side benefit.

I know this is not cancer-related, but it is hospital-related and comes with a great pic--

Power in Pink

This is a bit dated info, but back when Wendi had her surgery, some of the youth in the area showed their solidarity by wearing pink that day.  Pink dresses, ties, shirts, even a bow tie!

Many were even fasting that day - it meant a lot to us!

Thanks everybody!

Setback

It has been 1 week since the surgery.  Wendi has had a slow week of much sitting, laying and resting.  She's not used to doing that....  I was here all week to get everyone off to school and then keep the train rolling along in the afternoons and evenings.  She is still taking some of the pain meds, but is slowly feeling better.

She left the house for the first time today since last week.  We had appointments with both doctors today for a post-op visit and were hoping to get Wendi's drains removed.

The Plastic Surgeon was first.  The surgery went well and the incisions are healing nicely.  Turns out, only one of the drains has slowed enough to be taken out, so we will still be dealing with that for a few days.  He wants to meet with us weekly for about the next 2 months.

The General Surgeon had heard back from Pathology and the full results are in.  Unfortunately, he didn't have good news for us.  He removed 39 lymph nodes and 19 of them were positive for cancer.  That's a high number and bumps the diagnosis up to Stage 3c cancer.  We were really hoping to not have to endure radiation, but that is a recommended part of the treatment for this stage.  He has a referral in to the Oncology department, so we should meet with them in the next 2 weeks.

No other treatments will occur until she is healed from the surgery, so we have 3 or 4 weeks until we start the next steps in the process.

Our ward family, our neighbors, and my work have been great in their support.  Thanks again for your prayers and your concern.

Mark K.

A is for Anxiety

We have been reading up on things a bit, as you can imagine.  We found a book called A Breast Cancer Alphabet that has a section on 'Anxiety' that hits home.  Here are a few excerpts:


Anxiety grips you as you await the pathology results in the days after they remove the tumor.  When you know you have to have chemotherapy, you try to anticipate what your body will feel like after it has been pumped full of poisons to cure you.  Because there is nothing to prepare you for all of this, your anxiety meter will be off the charts.
Anxiety is like your cancer companion; it is attached to you now, sometimes in the background, sometimes front and center, but always there.  Anxiety stalks you as you sit through countless doctor visits, hours and hours of tests, and days and days of waiting.  It sinks its tentacles in you and makes itself at home through bad news and even when you get some good news.  It lurks like an unwelcome visitor who never leaves, because it never does.  It is in your mind, yes, but it also manifests itself physically - nausea, light-headedness, stomach upset, racing heartbeat.
Your challenge is to manage it.  I'm pretty good at time management, but this is a different beast.  Anxiety is not neat or measurable.  It is amorphous and stubborn and oh so resilient.  It cannot be compartmentalized or shoved aside or thrown out or vanquished.   It actually must be managed, and you have to figure out the best anxiety management techniques for you (drugs, meditation, therapy, yoga, work, play, ice cream, movies).  Coping with anxiety is the part of your cancer treatment that may get short shrift from the medical professionals.  They are dealing with a big thing - your cancer - and thank goodness for that.  But anxiety is real and important, and you have to let people know that so you can get all the help you need to manage it.
The good news is that reality is never as dark as the places your mind can take you, and unfortunately anxiety takes you to the darkest places imaginable.  Maybe living with it becomes a learned skill and the anxiety subsides; in the meantime, managing it seems to be the only option.



And I'm sure once we kick this thing, we will always have anxiety about when/if it will come back....