Cheer Up!

Dawn Ann thought I needed a little cheering up. Friday, we had intended to go to Hogle Zoo. But by the time we got there, it was too late in the day. Friday was a warm sunny day (that is warm for us at 50 degrees). So after we drove away from the zoo, we just kept heading up Emigration Canyon, over to Parley's canyon, up to Park City, on to Coalville, through Hennifer and Morgan, and then back home via Highway 89 and I-15.

It was nice to get out of town for a little while and see the countryside. While in Morgan, we stopped off at the Jubilee grocery store, and stocked up on Pepsi for my mom.

While we drove, Dawn Ann read "The Shadow Taker" by Blaine Yorgason to us. I have to say that this is the first book in a long while that has really caused me to think and reflect a lot.

The story is of a man, who is the driver of a Jeep in Southern Utah, along the Hole in the Rock Trail, which was built by early Mormon Pioneers in 1880. The man is an insurance executive, who has cut many corners, and compromised his integrity on many occasions. He laughs at, and mocks another character in the book who is always trying to live by the rules, and who maintains his integrity.

The Shadow Taker is like an angel of death. When the man's jeep breaks down in the hot, searing desert, the man searches for water, and meets the Shadow Taker.

What ensues is a review of the man's life. The Shadow Taker shows him scenes from his life, from early childhood on down to recent events. The driver of the Jeep was shown to have lied, cheated, and hurt many people along the way. He attempted to justify his actions, and remained unrepentant. His heart was set so much on obtaining riches, and to gain positions of power and worldly recognition, that he didn't care much who he hurt or trampled over in the process.

This man's life could be summarized by the following scripture:

Behold, there are many called, but few are chosen. And why are they not chosen?

Because their hearts are set so much upon the things of this world, and aspire to the honors of men . . . (D&C 121: 34-35)

The driver of the Jeep had been a member of the church. He had been given every opportunity to take full advantage of the blessings of the gospel. Instead, he never did internalize the teachings of the gospel. He chose to worship the wealth and power of the world, instead of the True and Living God.

Now, the Shadow Taker was holding him accountable for his actions, and the future did not look bright for him.

In the days since Dawn Ann read this book to us as we traveled, I have reflected on it again and again -- which I'm sure was the hope of the author when he wrote it.

How and I doing? Am I honoring my covenants? Am I keeping the two great commandments, to Love God, and to love my fellowman? Are the aspirations of my heart set upon the things of the world, or the things of God?

On Saturday, we finally made it to the Zoo. We had an enjoyable time together, and we finised up just as the weather started to turn bad.

Here are a few photos from our outing:

The Mighty Cougar -- Go BYU!!!

Mama and Baby Giraffe

The baby Giraffe is only two months old, born on December 27, 2007.

The Tiger has Eyes for YOU!

Leopard on the Prowl

Never Cry Wolf!

Actually, "Never Cry Wolf" is one of my favorite movies.

Paging Dr. Smith

If you are as old as dirt, like me, you might remember this guy. This is Johnathan Harris, who played the infamous Dr. Zachary Smith in the TV series "Lost in Space" which aired in the early 1970's.

In the series, Dr. Smith was always devious and unreliable. You never could count on him. He would put on a brave face, but at the last minute, he would chicken out.

I ran into a Dr. Smith of my own during my October 12-14, 2007 hospital stay.

I had been admitted to the hospital with acute diverticulitis, combined with an abscess on my bowel that was pressing down on my bladder. After they discovered my situation following a CT scan, they asked me who my surgeon was.

What? I didn't have a surgeon! I didn't know I needed one until now! So the hospital contacted the surgeon on call, which turned out to be my Dr. Smith.

Dr. Smith seemed nice enough. He explained what was happening with me. He even drew a picture of my bowel, bladder, and where the abscess was that was causing all the trouble. He said that I would need surgery to remove the part of my bowel that contains the diverticular pockets.

When I was discharged from the hospital, on a Sunday night, he told me to contact his office the next day (Monday) to schedule an appointment, where we would further discuss the surgery. We had arranged for me to be on oral antibiotics (Augmentin) and then have a follow-up CT scan in two weeks.

The next day, I dutifully called Dr. Smith's office, and arranged for an appointment with him on the following Friday.

The IV antibiotics in the hospital had worked well. I had received some relief from the intense pain I had experienced the week before.

In fact, the next day, Monday, I returned again to work again, as if nothing had happened. (I was somewhat weakened, and I still had some pain.) It was dawning on me that I was going to need surgery, and I felt myself resigned to that fact. I confided in a couple of my co-workers and my boss that I had spent my weekend in the hospital. However, most people didn't know that I had even been in the hospital again.

Things progressed along nicely through the week, until Thursday, when I got a call from Dr. Smith's office. I was informed that Dr. Smith was retiring, and that he was no longer taking new patients. My Friday appointment was canceled out from under me, and I was summarily dumped! My Dr. Smith was as unreliable as the one on the old TV show!

I was dumbfounded! What was I to do now? I decided to call my internist. But they were really hesitant to even schedule and appointment for me. They told me to contact a surgeon. However, I needed some recommendations for a good surgeon -- and that was part of what I wanted to discuss with my internist, who after all, is supposed to be my primary care physician.

Reluctantly, my internist agreed to meet with me the next day, on Friday. When I got there, it was like I was radioactive. She didn't want to touch me with a 10-foot pole. She didn't want to counsel with me, or have much at all to do with me.

My wife came with me to that appointment, and we were appalled at her attitude, and her unwillingness to be of much help. Finally, I got a list of recommended surgeons from her, and we left.

We haven't been back ever since, either.

I have one doctor, my rheumatologist, who is my most trusted doctor. I called his office, and asked him to give me a call, with some recommendations for a colon surgeon.

My rheumatologist called me back, and we discussed several doctors, and he told me which one he go to if he were having similar trouble. This doctor is the go-to doctor for complicated bowel surgeries. The doctor he recommended is often times consulted by other doctors when they have difficult cases.

I decided to go with the surgeon recommended by my rheumatologist. He also happened to be on the list that I wrenched away from my internist. This turned out to be a very good decision.

In the long run, I feel grateful that I had the surgeon I ended up with. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that Dr. Smith wimped out on me, after all.

A Full Plate

I believe it all started on the night of September 1, 2007. We had decided as a family to get up at 3:00 am to watch a meteor shower. After Dawn Ann’s diagnosis of cancer, I decided to try and do as many fun things we could as a family, and together as a couple as we could before the mastectomy. Viewing the meteor shower was one of these activities. (Another was going to the State Fair as a family. And thirdly, we celebrated our wedding anniversary early by going to Johnson’s Mill bed and breakfast in Midway, Utah.)

We took some treats with us to nibble on as we watched the meteor shower. I remember getting some Red Vines, and a bag of caramel popcorn.

The popcorn, although it tasted pretty good, had a lot of unpopped kernels in it. I didn’t think a lot of it at the time, but that bag of caramel popcorn might have been my downfall. I believe that one of those popcorn kernels may have been the cause of another bout of diverticulitis.

A few days after the meteor shower, I felt some pain in my lower abdomen. I didn’t think much of it at the time, although I always worried that I might be having bowel trouble again. I have a history of diverticulitis, and I worried some that I may be having another problem. I had some mild abdominal pain that lasted a few days, and then went away, so I shrugged it off. I had more important things to worry about, with Dawn Ann’s breast cancer, and I needed to support her in the face if this monumental challenge.

A month went by, and I remember being in Dawn Ann’s hospital room (October 2-4th, 2007). She had made it through the surgery alright. I was focused on seeing to her needs, and comforting and supporting her in this ordeal. As I sat in her hospital room, I again felt a return of the abdominal pain. It was a little more intense than it was before, a month earlier. But I blocked it out of my mind as I focused on Dawn Ann. Now I believe that the pain I felt that first week of October was the manifestation of an abscess forming on my bowel.

We got Dawn Ann home from the hospital, and I stayed home with her for about a week and a half. I helped her though things that first week home from the hospital. I drove her to her doctor appointments, cooked meals, did laundry, took care of the house, drove the kids around to their appointments and classes and picked up the load of both parents, as best I could

On Monday, October 8th, I went to the Insta-care clinic. The abdominal pain was now manifesting itself with symptoms in my urinary tract. I had painful, burning urinations, and began to be convinced that I might have a urinary tract infection. I gave a urine sample, and the quick test did not reveal a urinary tract infection. They were to culture the urine specimen for three days to check for an infection. They did not give me any antibiotics at that time.

On Wednesday, October 10th, I returned to work for the first time since the surgery. The next day (Thursday) I again went to work, but the abdominal pain returned with a vengeance. I couldn’t make it through the work day because of pain. I felt like my prostate might be infected, because I had some pain and tenderness in that area.

I again returned to the Insta-care, complaining of a possible prostate infection. The doctor examined me, and after a digital exam decided that I might, indeed have a prostate infection, and gave me a prescription for Cipro. (Which has been successful in treating prostate infections in me before).

Thursday night was a nightmare! I couldn’t sleep all night because of pain. I found myself curled up into a fetal position in bed trying to get comfortable. Ibuprofen and Tylenol couldn’t touch the pain, and I could not sleep.

Friday morning, October 12th, I called my Internist, and told them of my situation. They told me to go to the Emergency Room. Dawn Ann had already determined that we were going to the ER anyway, regardless of what the doctor might have said.

At the ER, I told them of the pain I was experiencing, and also that I had a history of diverticulitis. They hooked me up to an IV, and had me start drinking my “favorite” cocktail – that wonderful mixture of raspberry crystal light, and Iodine. Mmm Mmm Mmm. A cup full every 15 minutes. It takes about an hour and a half to drink it all. This iodine drink is used to provide contrast in preparation for a CT scan.

I drank the whole liter of the iodine cocktail. They wanted me to urinate before they did the CT scan, but I couldn’t. I tried and tried, but it just wouldn’t come. Then came my worst nightmare – a catheter.

In all my life, this was something that I dreaded. When I was a little boy, about 6 or 7 years old, I had my tonsils out at the old Primary Children’s hospital. In the same room with me was a little boy who had prostate problems. They had a catheter in him – and he was in agony. I remember when I was young, that I had nightmares of having a catheter put in, and being in sheer agony -- like that little boy at the hospital.

Well, you might say that I had another dream (nightmare in this case) come true. They came into my little curtained-off cubicle at the ER, and put in the catheter. Without going into details, it was one of the most uncomfortable things I have ever experienced. My nightmares as a child were not misplaced! Not only was the catheter uncomfortable going in, but It continued to be uncomfortable for as long as it remained in place.

Finally, they did the CT scan. And the CT scan revealed that once again I had diverticulitis, with an abscess – just like before nearly two years previously. The abscess was in a different location this time, and was pressing on the bladder. This accounted for the painful urinary tract symptoms I had been experiencing, which had masked the real problem.

Unlike last time, they didn’t insert a percutaneous drain tube in me. They said the abscess was too close to the bladder, and as a result would be too risky to insert.

After the CT scan, I was admitted to the hospital. They put me on IV antibiotics, and left the catheter in for a couple of days.

I was in a great deal of pain physically, but the greatest pain of all was psychological. I was supposed to be taking care of my dear wife, who just had a mastectomy the week before. Now she was having to take care of me! This was a heavy burden for me to carry. I had been prepared to serve Dawn Ann in any way possible, and give my all to serve her. And now I could not do that. It was the first time in my life when there was a great need for me to fill, but I could not do it. And that hurt worst of all!

Half A Plate full

Well, I haven’t blogged for awhile. What readers I may have once had, have surely gone away by now. Frankly I haven’t felt much like blogging lately. By the time you read the next series of posts, you may understand why.

Last September, when I posted last, we were facing a monumental challenge in our lives. My wife Dawn Ann and just been diagnosed with breast cancer. On October 2, 2007, Dawn Ann underwent a mastectomy. She was in the hospital for 3 days and 2 nights. I took that week off from work to take care of her. I have written about our experiences with breast cancer at one of my other blogs: DCIS Husband.

The mastectomy was a struggle for Dawn Ann, but she did very well. After the surgery, she was all bandaged up, and had two JP drains coming out of her. The drains were the most uncomfortable thing for her.

The surgery was a complete success! They got all of the cancer with surgery alone. Going into the surgery, we knew that there were two spots of cancer on her right breast. The final pathology report showed not only the two expected locations with cancer – but a third location that was previously undetected! The 3rd spot was not found by mammograms nor by MRI. The third spot also proved to be a more aggressive form of cancer.

The revelation of the 3rd cancer spot only served to confirm our decision to have the mastectomy. There was no doubt now that this was the correct course of action. Even if it would have been possible to do lumpectomies on the two other spots, the third more virulent spot would have remained, and could have done who knows what untold damage -- even pose a threat to her life.

Fortunately the surgery was able to get all the cancer. It was caught early enough that no other treatment, besides the mastectomy, was necessary. No chemotherapy and no radiation. This was a great relief to Dawn Ann.

Dawn Ann decided before the operation, to have concurrent reconstruction done on her breast. After the breast tissue was removed, a tissue expander was placed under her chest-wall muscle. Later, the tissue expander would be inflated with saline to create a space under the muscles, where a silicone implant eventually will be implanted.

Frankly, Dawn Ann’s breast cancer would have been plenty on our plate all by itself. But that was just the beginning of our health related troubles – which I will discuss in my next post.

Udate on CPAP Therapy

In my previous post, I described my experience while undergoing a sleep study.

I now use my CPAP machine religiously. It has really been a benefit to me -- a blessing even.

Here is the CPAP machine that I use. And here is the mask that I use.

The sleep study took place on April 10th of this year. I started on the CPAP machine on May 1st. After a few weeks of CPAP therapy, I noticed that I was sleeping through the night. Not waking up several times each night.

The quality of sleep I get now is much better. I have more energy, I am less sleepy during the daytime. I don't feel so tired and run-down all the time.

I also can concentrate better. I work as a computer programmer, and I would often find it difficult to concentrate, and wrap my mind around difficult tasks. Now I can grasp complicated concepts much better. I actually feel like doing things more proactively, instead of waiting things to come to me alone.

I was really worried about the noise of a CPAP machine -- and if my wife would kick me out of our bedroom to the basement. However the machine I use is quite quiet. I would highly recommend it. This is the machine that I use. And this is the Mask that I use.

I had hoped that the CPAP therapy would help with my edema (swelling in the feet, ankles and shins), but it hasn't made much difference in that area. I continue to take those evil water pills (lasix). However there are times (such as during travel) that I can't just hang out near a restroom for a few hours at a time. So on those days, I don't take the lasix. (Don't get any ideas, Larry Craig, if you're reading this! And no tappy-toes Senator jokes here, please!)

Anyhow, I feel that the CPAP therapy has been a great help in my life. I feel better now than I have for several years.

If you think you might have sleep apnea. See your doctor. It will help you feel better, and the Therapy might even save your life one-day!

A $2000 A Night Hotel -- And Not Even Cable TV!

For the past 2-3 years I have been experiencing a lot of fatigue and tiredness. There have been days when I could hardly hold my eyes open at work.

I have noticed that It has been hard for me to concentrate and stay engaged in difficult, mentally challenging tasks.

Also I have developed over the past few years edema (swelling of the feet and calves). My Dr. has prescribed water pills until my kidneys have begged for mercy, but with only marginal results. In the quest to find the cause of the edema, tests were performed to make sure that I didn’t have leaky heart valves – which can result in edema. The test results showed that my heart was doing just fine, so that was not the cause.

My Dr. finally referred me to a pulmonologist to be evaluated for sleep apnea. Sleep apnea can also result in edema, as well as be a reason for the fatigue and tiredness that I have been experiencing over the last few years.

The pulmonologist did an initial oximetery test, where you wear an “alligator” clip on your finger, which is attached to a recording device that measures your heart rate, and blood oxygen percentage overnight as you sleep.

From this test, I learned that my breathing was stopping at a rate of about 40 times per hour. I also learned that my blood oxygen percentage went down to 72 (90 and above is considered normal).

The pulmonologist diagnosed me with Obstructive Sleep Apnea (OSA). The therapy for this condition is to begin using a CPAP machine (Continuous Positive Airway Pressure). However, I learned that in order for insurance to help cover the cost of the machine, that you had to first undergo an overnight sleep study. I crunched the numbers, and I figured that I would be dollars ahead to follow the insurance protocols, rather than skipping the sleep study, and just buying a CPAP machine outright on my own.

So I checked myself into a “Sleep Disorders Center” at a nearby hospital. I actually felt like I was checking myself into a jail or a halfway house. – Like I was doing time on evenings and weekends. Perhaps it was the confinement and the lack of freedom, for the night that made it feel jail-like. (Actually, I’ve never spent any time locked up in a jail cell, so I wouldn’t know what that might really feel like.) All I know is that I felt like a jail bird. I even wore my stripped convict pajamas.

Like jail, first thing I had to do was strip down and put on my convict pajamas. Next they had me try out a couple of CPAP masks, to see if I found one preferable to another. I picked out my “favorite” mask, and then was told that I could watch TV or read for awhile.

I turned on the TV, and much to my dismay, it was regular broadcast TV only. Here I am staying at this place for the night – with a list price in excess of $2,000. You would think that they would at least have Cable TV for that price!

I don’t watch anything on network TV. I am a denizen of the Discovery Channel, TLC, HGTV, The Travel Channel, Food Network, with a little Animal Planet mixed in. I might watch something on the History Channel, or A&E. But I haven’t watched anything of interest from the broadcast networks since Frazier went off the air.

Next they came in to wire me up. There were 21 wires in all, attached to my body. I had probes attached near each eye, and probes attached under each side of my jawbone. There was another probe attached on my forehead, right above the bridge of my nose. I had a wire attached to each earlobe. There were probes attached on my chest on either side of my heart. There was a probe attached to each of my legs just below the knees. Then there were several probes attached to my skull. Fortunately, they didn’t have to shave little holes out of my hair to make these attachments. (Although they could have used my bald spot on the crown of my head if they wanted to!) Instead they put this goop into my hair, and then braided wires into the goo. After the goo set-up, it was just about the consistency of silly putty.

Next they put two belts around me. One of them was around my chest, and the other was around my diaphragm. These two belts were also wired, and were there to sense the depth and frequency of my respirations.

At this point I felt like I was about to be strapped into an Electric chair.

To top it all off, I had an oxygen sensor attached to one of my fingers – similar to that of the oximetery test I had received before.

After being hooked up to all the wires, and then being tethered to the bed, I was also told that I MUST sleep for a minimum of 2 hours, and that my breathing MUST stop at least 30 times per hour, or insurance wouldn’t cover a CPAP machine.

If I “achieved” those goals, then they would put me on the CPAP machine for the 2nd half of the night. If I didn’t make the cut, they would just let me sleep on until morning.

No pressure at all! Can anyone else see the irony here? I am at this place because I have a probable sleep disorder in the first place! Then I am told that I must sleep, on-demand, in this strange place, with all these wires attached to me, while trying to find a comfortable position without pulling all the wires out. Got that!

I did a little reading, called home, and prepared to go to sleep. I discovered why they don’t have Cable TV there. The real reason is that they really don’t want to have anything interesting on TV -- which might keep you up at night. After all, they want you to sleep, not watch TV. The TV fare made that an easy choice for me!

I paged the attendant, and had them help me get the covers straight on the bed without pulling out all the wires, and then the turned off the lights.

I said my evening prayers, and eventually drifted off to sleep. I woke up after a while with a sore shoulder. I had been sleeping in an awkward position because of all the wires and probes, and now my shoulder hurt. They gave me some Tylenol and I slowly drifted off to sleep again.

Next thing I new, at about 1:30 am, a technician came into the room and told me that she was going to put on the CPAP mask. Whew! I passed the test! I must have slept the requisite amount (I figure I had been asleep for about 2-2½ hours) and that my breathing must have stopped in excess of 30 times per hour. I don’t think I ever really got into a deep sleep though.

They put the mask on, and made sure it was fitted properly, then I laid back down on the bed – on my back! I just laid there for about 20-30 minutes, and I actually drifted off to sleep!

I NEVER sleep on my back. My airway usually does close off when my muscles relax just before falling asleep. With the CPAP, the airway was kept open. The mattress was also comfortable enough for me to sleep on my back as well – it was a nice pillow-top mattress.

The CPAP machine did make some noise. It sounded like a small hand-held hairdryer on a low setting, with a bit of a whooshing sound because of the air movement. It was an easy kind of a “white” noise that I got used to it fairly quickly. Of course that’s easy for me to say. My ears were partially plugged from the earlobe probes, and I am already half-deaf in one ear to begin with. I guess my dear sweet wife will be the ultimate judge of whether or not the CPAP machine is noisy or not. Who knows, if the machine is too noisy, I might be sleeping in the basement from now on!

After a while, I rolled over onto my side, which is my normal sleeping position. I was able to get to sleep on my side for awhile too. However, with the wires and probes, I was not able to get into a really good sleeping position. Twice during the night, the staff had to come into the room and re-attach probes that had come off during my limited movements. I hope I will be able to find a comfortable sleeping position with the CPAP machine at home. I will often switch from sleeping on my left side, to my right side. I don’t know how well its going to work to have the air hose crossing over the top of my body when I am attempting to sleep. I guess we’ll see how that works out.

I woke up just before 5:00 am, and was done for the night. At about 5:30, the staff came in and started disconnecting me from all my wires and probes.

I changed into my “street” clothes, got the manufacturer and model of the CPAP mask that I used, and got out of there. Not only did this $2000-a-night hotel not have cable TV, but I didn’t get to sleep either! No continental breakfast, no newspaper, no nothing! However, I was glad to get out of there – even if I did have a serious case of “crazy hair” with all the silly putty still stuck in it. The staff reassured me that “hot water and shampoo” would get the putty out. I made my move and broke out of that place, and headed for home!

Going home, I noticed that my gas gage showed empty, and the nearly out of gas warning light was coming on. So I stopped on the way home, crazy hair and all, and filled up the gas tank.

By the time I got home, it was just before 7:00 am. That’s about the time the family starts to stir. I did my morning back stretches. Then we had family scripture study, and got Amy off to school.

Then after everything had settled down, I set out to get the silly putty out of my hair. After two very vigorous shampoos, I was able to get the gunk out of my hair. I don’t know how much hair it took with it (I noticed that my hair was even a little thinner than usual on top) but at least the goop was gone!

I had previously arranged with work to come in late that day, so that I could get some actual sleep after the “Sleepless Study”. I rested for awhile, and finally made it in to work by around noon.

The sleep study staff told me that the full report of the sleep study would be sent to my Dr. in about 2 weeks. In the meantime, sleep specialists will review all the data from the sleep study, and make recommendations. My Dr. will then make his recommendation based on the study, and will undoubtedly prescribe a CPAP machine.

In the meantime, I await the results, and anticipate the adjustments and hopefully the changes for the better that will be coming in the next few weeks and months as a result of CPAP therapy.

His Promises Are Sure

We went to the temple last night. It was for our ward’s regular monthly sealing assignment at the Jordan River Temple.

It was our first visit to the temple since Dawn Ann’s diagnosis of Breast Cancer. Perhaps our feelings and emotions were a little closer to the surface as a result.

During our sealing session, we were called to the altar first. Dawn Ann and I looked at each other across the altar, as we did for the first time nearly 16 years ago. As the ceremony, which binds a couple together for time, and for all eternity, was pronounced, tears came to Dawn Ann’s eyes. Just a few tears at first, then many more. The sealer handed us a box of Kleenexes so she could wipe her eyes.

As for me, I looked into those eyes, which I have loved for the last 16 years. She always looks so beautiful in white. I am so grateful for her. For the love she has brought to me. The children she has brought into this world. And all she does for us to provide a home for our family.

As I looked at the tears coming from her eyes, I thought I perceived what she might be feeling, and why the tears. Later, I confirmed with her that what I had perceived was correct. As Dawn Ann heard the blessings and promises of eternal marriage pronounced once again, she felt a peace and assurance from the Spirit of the Lord that no matter what happens in this life, the Lord's promises to us are sure. That she and I will be together eternally.

This was what brought tears to her eyes. The witness of the Spirit that despite the challenges we are currently facing, the diagnosis of breast cancer, that she can be assured that all will be well – no matter what happens.

My turn would come a few minutes later, as I was sitting next to the sealer, as one of the witnesses, Brother Leetham gave a few words of counsel between ordinances.

He counseled that the Lord wants each of us to return and enjoy eternal life with him. Brother Leetham counseled that the Lord will leave no stone unturned to make this happen. He paraphrased this scripture:

“ . . . For I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.” (D&C 84:88)

He then counseled that the blessings of eternal life will come through our faithfulness. Then he explained what that means.

Brother Leetham explained that our faithfulness doesn’t mean that we have to be perfect right here, and right now. What it does mean, however, is that we should continually try to become better people little by little. Not in huge spurts, not mile by mile, but inch by inch.

The goal should be to examine ourselves a few months from now, and to be able to see how we have become a little bit better than we were before. The comparison is always with ourselves over time, never comparing ourselves against others.

We should not be comparing ourselves with the bishop, stake president, or the Apostles. Besides, he said, we only see them when they are at their best. They are human too. We just don’t generally see them in their weak moments.

As brother Leetham spoke his words of counsel, I found tears coming to my own eyes this time. As he paraphrased the scripture, I felt that we do not have to face this breast cancer alone. That He will go before us, that He will be on our right side, and on our left, and that His angels will be round about us. He will be there for us. He will not desert us.

The words from the fourth verse of “I am a child of God” best describe my feelings:

I am a child of God.
His promises are sure;
Celestial glory shall be mine
If I can but endure.

(I Am A Child of God, Lyrics by Naomi W. Randall)

All will be well. We have placed our trust in him, and I know we can pass through this trial – no matter what.

-- His Promises are sure.