seven hundred thirty days ago...

Two years ago this week James and I were boarding a plane and heading to Thailand. 

A mere four months prior, we had opened The Foreign Wife after months actual years of planning; countless hours of cooking (the fun part - unless it's a fail, and then it's the worst part); recipe development (hello, metric system!); renovations largely involving two women (myself and our manager) whose combined hours of previous training, relevant experience, and watching renovation shows equaled maybe one; training a staff to cook and bake in an entirely different method, mode, and culture with ingredients they'd never heard of, to a flavor palate they'd never tasted, to a standard of consistency that surely convinced them I was neurotic; learning to deal with customers who are mostly a fun lot, until they berate you for your lack of skill, poor standards, and miserly approach to food and customer service because you forgot the bacon in the Caesar salad (Huh?). 

And things were going, well...great! 

Except that James could not stop coughing. He had given up preaching on Sundays, and really much talking at all because he could not speak more than a few sentences without a coughing fit. As we transferred planes on our way to Thailand he actually laid on the airport floor to try to get some relief for his back pain as weeks of an uncontrolled cough made sitting in a molded plastic chair unbearable.

Except that a round of antibiotics and consistent use of an inhaler did nothing to improve the situation. 

Except that James had done a CT that showed a collapsed right middle lobe.

Except that James had done a bronchoscopy in China that told us that "something" was "growing" in his lungs. 

Ever the optimist, I expected to find that James had some weird virus or fungus. I thought, you know, worst case scenario we were dealing with TB. 

Other than James's back pain, we were kinda sorta looking forward to a few days' break in Thailand. We hadn't been on so much as a date in years (yes, actual years - no judging!), and one of our friends said that hey, sans kids in a foreign country, it would probably feel like something of a second honeymoon. 

Within days, James had blood tests, another chest xray, another bronchoscopy, an MRI, another CT, a PET scan, a bone marrow biopsy, and a lung function test. We saw multiple specialists multiple times: a pulmonologist, a thoracic oncologist, another oncologist, a physical therapist, a surgeon, and even an infectious disease doctor.  We learned to bow and sawadee-ka our way into the good graces of numerous Thai nurses. We got prescriptions filled at the pharmacy - mostly for pain (those worked) and for James's cough (those didn't). 

When we weren't trying to sustain ourselves on the free crackers and juice boxes at the hospital between appointments, we frequented the Thai shops, enjoyed several great Thai meals, took ambling walks in the neighborhoods surrounding the hospital, and even found a fabulous little Italian place where the owner liked to sing Italian opera (loudly) in front of his diners.  (Because, why not?!) 

But mostly, we waited. When we first arrived in Thailand, no one, least of all the doctors, thought James had cancer. When we first arrived in Thailand, we thought we'd have a few days off, get some answers, fill a script, and go back to life as planned. 

But then, the results...

A hypermetabolic pulmonary mass in the right lower hilum, causing collapse of the medial segment. There are hypermetabolic mediastinal lymph nodes along the paratracheal, precarinal, and sub/post carinal (right paraesophageal) and probably hilar (obscured by the aformentioned mass) stations.

AKA - Stage III Lung Cancer.

And so began the last two years of our lives, where we have learned what words like hypermetabolic, mediastinal, neoplasm, and malignant mean.



I mean, what those words really mean.

What they mean is physical pain, weeks of suffering, the opioid class of drugs you never thought you'd need, sleepless nights, anesthesia, surgeries, hospital beds, ER visits, calls from the doctor, calls to the doctor, long hours on hold with hospitals, billing offices, and insurance companies, needle pricks, IV bags, radiation, lines at the pharmacy, weight checks, blood tests, intravenous drugs, PET scans, CT scans, more needle pricks, more radiation, waiting for results, and being asked every three weeks about your past/current tobacco use.

Of all the things on the list, I wish I was making that last one up.

Those words have also meant innumerable kindnesses from friends, precious hours spent together as a couple, tears in public, and conversations about life, death, and love with our girls.

They've meant all kinds of prayers, in all kinds of ways, from all kinds of people - from elders at churches to strangers in the store - prayers for healing, prayers of lament, prayers of faith, and pleading prayers for mercy.

They've meant always having a story to share about how God is real, God is present, and God alone gives life and numbers our days.

They've meant finding strength to persevere,

hope against some really (really) horrible odds,

joy in the midst of sorrow,

courage replacing fear,

gratitude among the rubble of loss (so much loss),

and life in the face of death.

Those few words have meant - more than once - that when things seem really, really dark...God is actually working a miracle.

There's been a lot packed in to these two years.

And we wouldn't trade them for anything.

Thanks for coming along, friends.
~james & kristen

august and everything after

Hi All - Sorry for the long silence over in this little corner of the internet. So we fell off the face of the earth for the summer, but the good news is that the views are spectacular! 

I hope to write a few more posts in the coming days (but those of you who know me can shrug those off, "promises, promises..." and then be pleasantly surprised if I actually come through, teehee!). 

Since I last wrote, here's a few highlights...

1. James just completed 5 treatments of SBRT radiation to his hip on Friday. Ever the unusual patient, James's pain actually increased on this treatment, though yesterday and today he has been able to have several hours pain free. (I think this is a good sign, as we've learned that cancer pain comes and stays...it doesn't comes & go.  It's possible that the pain he is now feeling is the effects of radiation and not from the tumor.) We are hoping and praying that as the days pass post-treatment, his energy will return to previously high levels and that the pain will stop completely. There's also the possibility that even though doctors only radiated his hip that this treatment can have a synergistic effect with immunotherapy, actually increasing immunotherapy's effectiveness.  Also, James is off of his inhalers and coughs pretty minimally now. Wow - how did we get here? 

James's next CT scan will be sometime this month...I'll be sure to keep you in the loop on that humdinger.

2.  We are now a family of six! We returned from China with our 16 year old niece, Haoping, who will go to high school here in Indianapolis. She starts school in just a few days and has been busy back to school shopping, getting immunized (ouch!), enrolling in classes, eating American food (which she says is much better than her Uncle James led her to believe!), and acclimating to air conditioning. Hat tip to all the large families out there who manage to seemingly effortlessly stay on top of the lives of their children ranging in ages from preschooler to high schooler. It's an impressive feat, let me tell you! (After this last month, the only reason we might still be functional is because we don't have middle schoolers in the mix - ha!)

3. We had an absolutely wonderful summer back home in Dali. We had fabulous weather (siiiiiigh), too many ice coffees to count, hours of fabulous conversations connecting with locals (yeah for my brain that quickly recovered my Chinese!), incredibly blessed (and delicious) weeks spent in the restaurant kitchen, swimming with friends, a week spent relaxing with James's extended family in the village, perhaps the best tiramisu in the world (come to The Foreign Wife!), got drenched in the pouring rain, and....everything in between. I think one of the girls favorite parts was getting to go to the corner store on their own to buy bubble gum, ice cream, and various other sundries. It was a whirlwind of a trip with very little downtime for either James or me, but it was very, very good. God truly blessed the weeks that we had, and we saw Him accomplish and do things in those short weeks that many times we would wait a year or more to see. 


4. Our restaurant did something of a relaunch the last week I was in Dali. Our staff has new uniforms, we installed a new China Town style sign out front that glows in your sleep, our menu was updated and reprinted with heaps of new dishes, staff assignments were realigned, we hired a couple new staff members, we sent out an advertisement via social media that got 18,000 views in the first 24 hours....and naturally got wind in our sails from being all together again. By the time I left everyone was feeling recharged and excited, and proud of the work they do. (They know how to make Italian pasta from scratch! What's not to love?!) Not surprisingly, our July sales were the highest they've ever been. Exciting stuff. 

5. We are looking for a place to live. With the addition of our niece + the uncertainty of our time here in Indy (will it be another year? another two? three? ten?), we have started the house hunt. Kind of exciting and definitely overwhelming in it's complexity. The cultural differences are absolutely astounding and either make you laugh or make your head spin. But it's all good, and we are thankful. 

As always, thanks for your love & prayers that continue to bless and sustain us. Since our return to Indy we are finding grace to persevere through this season of our lives. In the last couple of weeks, James has had some of the worst pain he's ever had, and many nights of disturbed sleep. After our time in China it feels like a real setback, and is all things scary and depressing all rolled into one. But we find that as we draw near to Him, He strengthens us so that we do more than plod. Some days it feels like a plod (and that may be all you have the strength or energy for), but if you can just look up...you see there's just so much to be thankful for. 

Enjoy this beautiful day...
~james & kristen