Mom, words cannot express how much I miss you. The void that has been left from your passing is at times, unbearable and unreal. I find myself missing you and thinking of everything that I will miss you at as life continues on without you in our midst. I think of my college graduation, my wedding or my first child. I think of not hearing your laugh, seeing your smile or feeling your hugs. I will miss not being able to talk to you to get advice on dating "Weffi." I will miss not being able to see you around the house or eating your chicken enchiladas that everyone loved so much. I will miss the birthdays you won't be there for or the vacations that won't be as wonderful with out you there. I don't know how anything will ever be the same again with out you around or with us.
But to only think of what you will not be here for is wrong and unfair to you and all that you did and were to your family and friends. Instead, I will try to remember everything you were here for. My high school graduation, all the proms and homecomings and taking me to college. I will remember the times you did laugh, the times when your beautiful smile brightened my day, and the times when the warmth of your hug would heal the scabs and wounds, real and figurative, that life left on my body and heart. It is hard to think that this is the greatest wound of all and one which your laugh, smile or hugs cannot solve, heal or take away.
Still, I will remember the advice you did give, the way you taught me to love and treat women and all people in general. I will remember all the wonderful times we had. The time you were thrown out of my basketball game for being too adamant about your displeasure with the refs. I will remember the way you always took care of your husband and kids before you even thought of yourself, even while you were sick. I will remember the beautiful, loving woman you were, the lives you touched, the way you loved, the wisdom you shared, and the faith you passed on.
Thank you for always loving us selflessly and whole heartedly. You taught me how to live and serve others and God and love Him above all else. Through your relationship with Dad, I learned the commitment, service, love and fun that is required for a healthy marriage.
You showed me the service and selflessness of parenthood and taught me the grace and love of a perfect mother. You fought so long because all you wanted was to watch us grow up with Dad and be there for us as we get married and have kids. You never thought of yourself. Ever. You are dearly missed and life will always be emptier with out you. The void your passing leaves will never be filled. The wounds, although they grow smaller will never fully heal without your loving touch. I love you and will see you again someday. But not yet. First, I will run the race that has been set before me, living the faith the way you taught me and showed me: loving God and others and living for Him above all else.
I love you Mom.
Paul
Monday, May 5, 2008
I Miss You, Mom (from Drew)
Mom, the pain I'm feeling right now will never be fully gone and neither will the longing to be with you just one last time. I could never imagine what life would be like without you but now I'm forced to do more than imagine. You won't be here when I graduate in a month and you won't be here to take me to college in three. You won't be here to take part in my wedding or hold your grandchildren as you so desired. Yet, we can be thankful for the time that God did give to us. You were definitely there when I was born and you were there on my first day of elementary school, jr. high, and high school. You were here for all of my high school dances and made sure I had my pants high enough.
In the time we had you taught me many valuable lessons. The way in which you handled the cancer astounds me and all who knew you. Your faith was incredibly strong and inspired my own. Your servant heart never changed through the past two years and as a result I know truly what it means to love selflessly. Before you were diagnosed you served your husband and children without regard for your own desires and needs. After you were diagnosed you did the same. Your love never changed and I will greatly miss it.
I will also miss your laugh, your smile, and even your reprimanding looks after I had done something stupid. Yet, I will see all of these things in a later day and until then you will be greatly missed by all.
I love you Mom.
Drew
In the time we had you taught me many valuable lessons. The way in which you handled the cancer astounds me and all who knew you. Your faith was incredibly strong and inspired my own. Your servant heart never changed through the past two years and as a result I know truly what it means to love selflessly. Before you were diagnosed you served your husband and children without regard for your own desires and needs. After you were diagnosed you did the same. Your love never changed and I will greatly miss it.
I will also miss your laugh, your smile, and even your reprimanding looks after I had done something stupid. Yet, I will see all of these things in a later day and until then you will be greatly missed by all.
I love you Mom.
Drew
I Miss You, Mom (from Hannah)
Mom, there are not enough words to describe what you meant to me. You were a loving, caring, kind, and wonderful mother. I loved to shop with you at our favorite stores like Kohls and Payless. I always enjoyed learning how to cook with you. I will miss the first day of school pictures and hiking with you in Colorado. You always encouraged my goals, no matter how crazy or far fetched they were. Dad and you were usually in the stands supporting me whenever I played my sports, you guys sat in the pews when I sang in our church choir, and always came to my piano recitals. Mom, I will miss you being there every day after school waiting to pick me up.
I will miss the little things like these, but I will also miss the big things like having a mom and your beautiful smile and warm hug. I already miss saying good night to you every night. I missed having you straighten my hair today. It wasn't the same having Stephie do it. You were always there for me whenever I needed someone to talk to or cry with. I looked forward to our Bible study and you teaching me how to become and stay a pure person. I wish we could have finished it because you always gave me good advice.
Many people have said that I look just like you; I only hope that I can act like you too. I want to be as selfless as you and put God first just like you. I want to support my future kids just like you supported me. I loved the way you were able to always care for your family, friends, and God above yourself no matter how good or bad you were feeling. I know that you loved me deeply and I love you. You are my hero as you strongly and bravely fought cancer for two years, not for yourself, but so that you could be here with us. By fighting and not quitting, you taught me that no matter what I go through I should never quit praying or believing in God. I thank God for giving me such a wonderful mother even though the time was so short. I know you wanted to see me grow up and still be here for me. You will always be remembered Mom, because your life will be lived through me.
I love you.
Hannah
I will miss the little things like these, but I will also miss the big things like having a mom and your beautiful smile and warm hug. I already miss saying good night to you every night. I missed having you straighten my hair today. It wasn't the same having Stephie do it. You were always there for me whenever I needed someone to talk to or cry with. I looked forward to our Bible study and you teaching me how to become and stay a pure person. I wish we could have finished it because you always gave me good advice.
Many people have said that I look just like you; I only hope that I can act like you too. I want to be as selfless as you and put God first just like you. I want to support my future kids just like you supported me. I loved the way you were able to always care for your family, friends, and God above yourself no matter how good or bad you were feeling. I know that you loved me deeply and I love you. You are my hero as you strongly and bravely fought cancer for two years, not for yourself, but so that you could be here with us. By fighting and not quitting, you taught me that no matter what I go through I should never quit praying or believing in God. I thank God for giving me such a wonderful mother even though the time was so short. I know you wanted to see me grow up and still be here for me. You will always be remembered Mom, because your life will be lived through me.
I love you.
Hannah
I Miss You, Mom (from Matt)
Mom, it is indescribable how much I miss you already. The presence of your love and kindness was so powerful and now it is gone. I miss the hugs and laughs we shared together. I can’t imagine how life will continue to be while you’re gone. Everywhere we go there will be an empty space from the big things like annually going to Colorado to the small things like seeing you pick me up after school. I used to see you laying on the couch and now I look and no one is there. I‘ll never forget seeing you in the stands cheering me on in my basketball games. I’ll miss hearing you get mad at the refs. You won’t be there for the games any more, or to see me graduate, get married, or hold my kids.
But you were there to hang out with me, such as taking me to Sonic after school or visiting the zoo for a fieldtrip. You took me to the mall and to restaurants. We hung out as a family and watched movies. You persevered and fought a rough battle with cancer. You cared, loved and provided for your family. Everyone loved you and you loved them. Also God was your priority because you knew that only the faith of your family and friends would heal you. You also lived a strong Christian life and would spread the word with your great personality. This is what made you such a great, loving, caring mom and person.
I love you Mom.
Matt.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Services and Memorial Gifts
Joyce Ann Yarnell Joslin was born in St. Joseph, Missouri on May 17, 1957, to Raymond (Pete) and Lois Miller Yarnell. She graduated from Central High School in St. Joseph and from Southwest Missouri State University in Springfield, Missouri. After graduating from college, Ann served with Campus Crusade for Christ for six years.
Ann married Howard Joslin of Minburn, Iowa on August 17, 1985. She partnered with Howard in life and ministry and built character in her four children while residing in Perry, Iowa and Garland, Texas.
Ann passed into the arms of the Lord she loved, on May 2, 2008, surrounded by her husband, children, and close family and friends. She was preceded in death by her father, Pete, in 2005 and her grandparents. She is survived by her mother, Lois, her brother, David, and her nieces, Melissa and Allison, all of whom reside in St. Joseph. Ann is also survived by her faithful and loving husband, Howard, and four wonderful children, Paul, Drew, Hannah, and Matt of Garland.
Ann lived to be a wife, mother, and friend. She left more than a legacy. Ann left her handprints on all the lives she touched.
Services:
Monday, May 5 @ 5:00 pm
Memorial Service
North Highlands Bible Church
Dallas, Texas
Wednesday, May 7 @ 10:00 am
Memorial Service
Fredrick Boulevard Baptist Church
St. Joseph, Missouri
Thursday, May 8 from 5:00 to 8:00 pmPublic Viewing
Carris Funeral Home
1721 Park Street
Perry, Iowa 50220-1191
Friday, May 9 @ 10:00 am
Funeral and Burial
Perry Bible Church
Perry, Iowa
Memorial Gifts:
In lieu of flowers, please make memorial gifts in honor of Ann Joslin to one of the following ministries:
North Highlands Bible Church
Atten: Children’s Ministry
9626 Church Road
Dallas, TX 75238
Campus Crusade for Christ
Atten: Ministry #2571930 (Mongolia)
P.O. Box 628222
Orlando, FL 32862-9841
Love,
Howard, Paul, Drew, Hannah & Matt
Ann married Howard Joslin of Minburn, Iowa on August 17, 1985. She partnered with Howard in life and ministry and built character in her four children while residing in Perry, Iowa and Garland, Texas.
Ann passed into the arms of the Lord she loved, on May 2, 2008, surrounded by her husband, children, and close family and friends. She was preceded in death by her father, Pete, in 2005 and her grandparents. She is survived by her mother, Lois, her brother, David, and her nieces, Melissa and Allison, all of whom reside in St. Joseph. Ann is also survived by her faithful and loving husband, Howard, and four wonderful children, Paul, Drew, Hannah, and Matt of Garland.
Ann lived to be a wife, mother, and friend. She left more than a legacy. Ann left her handprints on all the lives she touched.
Services:
Monday, May 5 @ 5:00 pm
Memorial Service
North Highlands Bible Church
Dallas, Texas
Wednesday, May 7 @ 10:00 am
Memorial Service
Fredrick Boulevard Baptist Church
St. Joseph, Missouri
Thursday, May 8 from 5:00 to 8:00 pmPublic Viewing
Carris Funeral Home
1721 Park Street
Perry, Iowa 50220-1191
Friday, May 9 @ 10:00 am
Funeral and Burial
Perry Bible Church
Perry, Iowa
Memorial Gifts:
In lieu of flowers, please make memorial gifts in honor of Ann Joslin to one of the following ministries:
North Highlands Bible Church
Atten: Children’s Ministry
9626 Church Road
Dallas, TX 75238
Campus Crusade for Christ
Atten: Ministry #2571930 (Mongolia)
P.O. Box 628222
Orlando, FL 32862-9841
Love,
Howard, Paul, Drew, Hannah & Matt
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Ann Lives
Hello to All,
The oncologist came into our room Thursday morning to discuss the results of the tests and scans. He concluded that the cancer had consumed the liver and that it was shutting down. She was in D.I.C., which meant that her blood was no longer clotting. Ann’s counts would not rebound so that she could receive chemo, nor would chemo do any good. There was nothing else they could do to fight the cancer. We had run out of lifeboats.
I made a few phone calls from the hospital stairwell. I told Ann’s mom when she arrived at the hospital. Her brother decided to go ahead and come down from St. Joseph. I called Paul who was still at school in Arkansas and I told the other three kids when they came to the hospital that evening. Our only hope had always been God, since medical science offered no cure. However, the reality of that fact hit incredibly hard Thursday evening.
Before visiting hours were over, we had another time of prayer with the kids. I wept as shared with them that over 100 people had already responded to my email indicating that they would never quit praying. I read a couple of those emails to the kids. I then prayed – with a measure of faith – the four requests that we had prayed during this battle.
The emails provided overwhelming confirmation to a conclusion that I had drawn a few weeks prior. If God’s will was to physically heal Ann, enough faith had been demonstrated by us, as well as our “four friends,” that God would be free to execute his will. No lack of participation would be a hindrance.
At 4:00 am a team of doctors and technicians converged on our room because Ann’s blood pressure had dropped. They concluded that Ann should be moved to the ICU. I called Paul at 5:00 am and said that he needed to leave Arkansas immediately. He was in the basement taking shelter from a tornado. My prayer became, “Oh God. Don’t you let Ann die before Paul gets here.” I’m not sure of the impact that would have had on either Paul or me. Ann’s brother had her mom and the kids in the hospital by 6:15. Though I had no information yet from the doctors, I told the kids that I didn’t know if Ann would make it through the day.
The ICU opened up at 8:30 and I took the kids in to see Ann. She recognized them and they were able to tell them that they loved her. Friends started arriving. Paul and Steffi made it by 10:30. Ann smiled and was able to make a few comments to them.
In July 2006, after the initial diagnosis, I read Psalms to Ann in the hospital room because I had nothing else to say. I did the same in her ICU room.
Sometime around noon the nurse indicated that everyone needed to be in the room. Ann was surrounded by her husband and kids, her mom, brother and his wife, and several close friends. We were weeping, telling her we loved her, and encouraging her to go to be with Jesus. It was a fitting end to her life. I was reading from John 11:25-26 when she quietly died at 12:22 pm.
John 11:25-26:
Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"
The speed at which Ann’s death came this week has been shocking. I know that you will pray for the kids and me. Mother’s Day, Ann’s birthday, and Drew’s graduation are all in the next few weeks. For us it’s just half-time.
We will likely have the following services. Details are still being arranged.
Monday, May 5th, 5:00 pm
Memorial Service
North Highlands Bible Church
Dallas, Texas
Wednesday, May 7th, 10:00 am
Memorial Service
Fredrick Boulevard Baptist Church
St. Joseph, Missouri
Friday, May 9th, 10:00 am
Funeral and Burial
Perry Bible Church
Perry, Iowa
Love,
Howard & Ann
Paul, Drew, Hannah & Matt
The oncologist came into our room Thursday morning to discuss the results of the tests and scans. He concluded that the cancer had consumed the liver and that it was shutting down. She was in D.I.C., which meant that her blood was no longer clotting. Ann’s counts would not rebound so that she could receive chemo, nor would chemo do any good. There was nothing else they could do to fight the cancer. We had run out of lifeboats.
I made a few phone calls from the hospital stairwell. I told Ann’s mom when she arrived at the hospital. Her brother decided to go ahead and come down from St. Joseph. I called Paul who was still at school in Arkansas and I told the other three kids when they came to the hospital that evening. Our only hope had always been God, since medical science offered no cure. However, the reality of that fact hit incredibly hard Thursday evening.
Before visiting hours were over, we had another time of prayer with the kids. I wept as shared with them that over 100 people had already responded to my email indicating that they would never quit praying. I read a couple of those emails to the kids. I then prayed – with a measure of faith – the four requests that we had prayed during this battle.
- That God would physically heal Ann so that she can teach our kids and grandkids that "there is nothing our God cannot do."
- That God would heal Ann so that we could together be labors in the harvest in Asia.
- That God would heal Ann in such a manner so that no one would give credit to the doctors or chemo, but that everyone would know that it was God who had healed her.
- That God would demonstrate the reality of the resurrection by delivering Ann from death’s grip.
The emails provided overwhelming confirmation to a conclusion that I had drawn a few weeks prior. If God’s will was to physically heal Ann, enough faith had been demonstrated by us, as well as our “four friends,” that God would be free to execute his will. No lack of participation would be a hindrance.
At 4:00 am a team of doctors and technicians converged on our room because Ann’s blood pressure had dropped. They concluded that Ann should be moved to the ICU. I called Paul at 5:00 am and said that he needed to leave Arkansas immediately. He was in the basement taking shelter from a tornado. My prayer became, “Oh God. Don’t you let Ann die before Paul gets here.” I’m not sure of the impact that would have had on either Paul or me. Ann’s brother had her mom and the kids in the hospital by 6:15. Though I had no information yet from the doctors, I told the kids that I didn’t know if Ann would make it through the day.
The ICU opened up at 8:30 and I took the kids in to see Ann. She recognized them and they were able to tell them that they loved her. Friends started arriving. Paul and Steffi made it by 10:30. Ann smiled and was able to make a few comments to them.
In July 2006, after the initial diagnosis, I read Psalms to Ann in the hospital room because I had nothing else to say. I did the same in her ICU room.
Sometime around noon the nurse indicated that everyone needed to be in the room. Ann was surrounded by her husband and kids, her mom, brother and his wife, and several close friends. We were weeping, telling her we loved her, and encouraging her to go to be with Jesus. It was a fitting end to her life. I was reading from John 11:25-26 when she quietly died at 12:22 pm.
John 11:25-26:
Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"
The speed at which Ann’s death came this week has been shocking. I know that you will pray for the kids and me. Mother’s Day, Ann’s birthday, and Drew’s graduation are all in the next few weeks. For us it’s just half-time.
We will likely have the following services. Details are still being arranged.
Monday, May 5th, 5:00 pm
Memorial Service
North Highlands Bible Church
Dallas, Texas
Wednesday, May 7th, 10:00 am
Memorial Service
Fredrick Boulevard Baptist Church
St. Joseph, Missouri
Friday, May 9th, 10:00 am
Funeral and Burial
Perry Bible Church
Perry, Iowa
Love,
Howard & Ann
Paul, Drew, Hannah & Matt
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Two Ineffective Lifeboats, an Explosion and Three Requests
Hello to All,
I started an update several weeks ago, but didn’t have emotional or spiritual energy to write. Much has happened in the past month and this is my attempt to bring you up to date.
March 29th
We met with the oncologist in Houston after the 8 rounds of Taxol. As is often the case in this battle, the news was mixed. On the positive side the Taxol was effective in keeping the cancer in check. Most of the tumors in Ann’s liver were the same size, some had shrunk in size, but one tumor looked like it had grown.
On the negative side, the Taxol was causing difficult side effects like neuropathy. Ann began to lose feeling in her fingers and legs. After about the 7th round she began having trouble buttoning her blouse. Since this side effect would only worsen significantly with additional rounds of Taxol, our oncologist recommended ending the treatments. Another lifeboat had lost its effectiveness.
Plan D was to participate in a clinical trial with the drug Avistan. Our oncologist had reason to expect effectiveness as she had other angiosarcoma patients that had responded well to the drug. Later, our oncologist in Dallas confirmed that he felt Avistan would be a good option for Ann. The positives with this regimen were that there were very few side effects, usually just a bit of fatigue. It was even likely that Ann’s hair would begin to grow back. Also, the treatments were every three weeks, rather than just once per week. The only negative was that the treatments would need to be administered in Houston.
April 8th
We drove to Houston Monday evening for the tests and the first round of Avistan on Tuesday. We arrived at the hospital at 8:00 am, left a little after 8:00 pm, and made it back home by a bit past midnight. All went well for the first week or so. Ann felt fine and had a bit more pep. We enjoyed a brief visit from some friends back in Iowa. I stripped the wallpaper off of our kitchen so we could prep the house for Drew’s graduation. It was a welcomed bit of normalcy.
Then the bottom dropped out. Ann’s fatigue dramatically increased. She began to experience shortness of breath and had to rest several times walking from the car to the doctor’s office. She lost her appetite and began vomiting after eating. The “tightness” in her midsection began to swell significantly. At the end of the three weeks she had difficulty walking across our small house.
April 29th
We returned to Houston to gain some answers for these new symptoms, expecting to begin Round 2. The oncologist, after examining and interviewing Ann, suspected that the symptoms were not a result of the Avistan because they occurred more than ten days after the treatment. Also, the chest x-ray showed fluid on Ann’s lungs. Ann’s distentia in her midsection had grown significantly over the last few days. The most likely possibility was that Avistan was ineffective against Ann’s cancer and that the tumors had begun to grow rapidly.
In addition, Ann was unable to receive the second Avistan treatment, because her platelet counts were only at 17,000. They needed to be above 50,000. The current plan is to wait until her counts rebound to 50,000. We will then return to Houston for scans to confirm the situation with the cancer and determine a next step. Most likely, we will have to end the clinical trial and start some other standard chemo. To do this, Ann’s platelet counts will need to be above 100,000. This may mean three or four more weeks without a lifeboat of any kind.
Our oncologist encouraged us to discuss and document Ann’s wishes concerning resuscitation. She didn’t project a timetable, but told us it was time to again discuss the seriousness of Ann’s cancer with our kids. I had that difficult conversation with Paul, Drew, Hannah and Matt Tuesday evening after returning from Houston.
April 30th
We met with our Dallas oncologist this morning in order to schedule a blood transfusion. After reviewing Ann’s lab work, he recommended admitting Ann for a few days to fight her bladder infection and anything else that might be going on. Ann will probably be here at Baylor Hospital until Friday or Saturday.
An Explosion
On Tuesday’s ride home, after driving north for an hour or so to gain a measure of composure, I called a few friends and family members to tell them the news. It was déjà vie all over again, feeling just like July 2006 when I made phone calls from the hospital stairwell after Ann’s surgery. The grief and pain, the unbelief and shock – mine and of those I called.
The news took us both totally by surprise. We knew Ann wasn’t feeling well. I had begun to notice that she had really lost ground over the last few days. However, we suspected something like a kidney infection – not an explosion of cancer. Just a month ago the scans showed that Ann’s cancer was stable. However, such is the nature of angiosarcoma. Just a slight change in treatment and it’s likely to rage out of control. The challenge will be finding another chemo that is able douse the flames for a time. The concern is Ann’s platelet counts, will they rebound quickly enough to receive additional chemo?
How Can You Help?
I have previously written about my two solemn vows. Regardless of what happens, I will never quit the Christian faith and I will never quit praying for Ann’s physical healing. There have been difficult stretches during these last two years, times when trusting God for Ann’s healing was extremely difficult. However, the real test has only begun. Do I really believe that God answers prayer? Do I really believe that nothing is impossible with God? Do I really believe that God still heals today in answer to prayer? Do I really believe that there is always hope?
Numerous people have asked, “Can we do anything to help?” We have three requests.
Prayer Requests:
Some men came, bringing to him a paralytic, carried by four of them. Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus and, after digging through it, lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, "Son, your sins are forgiven."
Luke 18:1:
Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up.
One Last Thing:
If you are committed to asking our Father for Ann’s physical healing, would you please let us know by replying to this email. I can’t express how much it would mean to Ann, the kids, and I to know that many of you have not given up, that you are still asking and trusting God to heal Ann.
Love,
Howard & Ann
I started an update several weeks ago, but didn’t have emotional or spiritual energy to write. Much has happened in the past month and this is my attempt to bring you up to date.
March 29th
We met with the oncologist in Houston after the 8 rounds of Taxol. As is often the case in this battle, the news was mixed. On the positive side the Taxol was effective in keeping the cancer in check. Most of the tumors in Ann’s liver were the same size, some had shrunk in size, but one tumor looked like it had grown.
On the negative side, the Taxol was causing difficult side effects like neuropathy. Ann began to lose feeling in her fingers and legs. After about the 7th round she began having trouble buttoning her blouse. Since this side effect would only worsen significantly with additional rounds of Taxol, our oncologist recommended ending the treatments. Another lifeboat had lost its effectiveness.
Plan D was to participate in a clinical trial with the drug Avistan. Our oncologist had reason to expect effectiveness as she had other angiosarcoma patients that had responded well to the drug. Later, our oncologist in Dallas confirmed that he felt Avistan would be a good option for Ann. The positives with this regimen were that there were very few side effects, usually just a bit of fatigue. It was even likely that Ann’s hair would begin to grow back. Also, the treatments were every three weeks, rather than just once per week. The only negative was that the treatments would need to be administered in Houston.
April 8th
We drove to Houston Monday evening for the tests and the first round of Avistan on Tuesday. We arrived at the hospital at 8:00 am, left a little after 8:00 pm, and made it back home by a bit past midnight. All went well for the first week or so. Ann felt fine and had a bit more pep. We enjoyed a brief visit from some friends back in Iowa. I stripped the wallpaper off of our kitchen so we could prep the house for Drew’s graduation. It was a welcomed bit of normalcy.
Then the bottom dropped out. Ann’s fatigue dramatically increased. She began to experience shortness of breath and had to rest several times walking from the car to the doctor’s office. She lost her appetite and began vomiting after eating. The “tightness” in her midsection began to swell significantly. At the end of the three weeks she had difficulty walking across our small house.
April 29th
We returned to Houston to gain some answers for these new symptoms, expecting to begin Round 2. The oncologist, after examining and interviewing Ann, suspected that the symptoms were not a result of the Avistan because they occurred more than ten days after the treatment. Also, the chest x-ray showed fluid on Ann’s lungs. Ann’s distentia in her midsection had grown significantly over the last few days. The most likely possibility was that Avistan was ineffective against Ann’s cancer and that the tumors had begun to grow rapidly.
In addition, Ann was unable to receive the second Avistan treatment, because her platelet counts were only at 17,000. They needed to be above 50,000. The current plan is to wait until her counts rebound to 50,000. We will then return to Houston for scans to confirm the situation with the cancer and determine a next step. Most likely, we will have to end the clinical trial and start some other standard chemo. To do this, Ann’s platelet counts will need to be above 100,000. This may mean three or four more weeks without a lifeboat of any kind.
Our oncologist encouraged us to discuss and document Ann’s wishes concerning resuscitation. She didn’t project a timetable, but told us it was time to again discuss the seriousness of Ann’s cancer with our kids. I had that difficult conversation with Paul, Drew, Hannah and Matt Tuesday evening after returning from Houston.
April 30th
We met with our Dallas oncologist this morning in order to schedule a blood transfusion. After reviewing Ann’s lab work, he recommended admitting Ann for a few days to fight her bladder infection and anything else that might be going on. Ann will probably be here at Baylor Hospital until Friday or Saturday.
An Explosion
On Tuesday’s ride home, after driving north for an hour or so to gain a measure of composure, I called a few friends and family members to tell them the news. It was déjà vie all over again, feeling just like July 2006 when I made phone calls from the hospital stairwell after Ann’s surgery. The grief and pain, the unbelief and shock – mine and of those I called.
The news took us both totally by surprise. We knew Ann wasn’t feeling well. I had begun to notice that she had really lost ground over the last few days. However, we suspected something like a kidney infection – not an explosion of cancer. Just a month ago the scans showed that Ann’s cancer was stable. However, such is the nature of angiosarcoma. Just a slight change in treatment and it’s likely to rage out of control. The challenge will be finding another chemo that is able douse the flames for a time. The concern is Ann’s platelet counts, will they rebound quickly enough to receive additional chemo?
How Can You Help?
I have previously written about my two solemn vows. Regardless of what happens, I will never quit the Christian faith and I will never quit praying for Ann’s physical healing. There have been difficult stretches during these last two years, times when trusting God for Ann’s healing was extremely difficult. However, the real test has only begun. Do I really believe that God answers prayer? Do I really believe that nothing is impossible with God? Do I really believe that God still heals today in answer to prayer? Do I really believe that there is always hope?
Numerous people have asked, “Can we do anything to help?” We have three requests.
- Don’t give up on Ann. One friend promised that she would pray for Ann’s healing until either she or Ann took her last breath. A high school classmate offered to fast with another classmate and ask for Ann’s deliverance. Several others friends have promised to continue praying for Ann’s physical healing. Jesus healed the paralytic because he saw the faith of his four friends (Mark 2:5). I can’t tell you how much that helps us to know that others will continue to pray even though hope is fleeting. The battle is not ours alone.
- Don’t give up in your own impossible situations. Perhaps your marriage is shattered or your kids are wandering. Perhaps your finances are in shambles or your work is miserable. Perhaps you have your own hopeless health issues. Don’t quit asking your Father for deliverance. As long as there is breath there is hope.
- Don’t give up on prayer. If God chooses – in his sovereignty and goodness –not to heal Ann, do not allow yourself believe the lie that prayer is pointless. Truth is found in his word, not in our experience.
Prayer Requests:
- That Ann would be able to eat adequately so that she does not loose further strength.
- That Ann's platelet counts would quickly rebound so that she can receive additional chemo soon. They dropped to 10,000 today.
- That God will give grace and strength to Paul, Drew, Hannah and Matt and that we can all honor God during this time.
- That God would physically heal Ann so that she can teach our kids and grandkids that "there is nothing our God cannot do."
- That God would demonstrate the reality of the resurrection by delivering Ann from death’s grip.
Some men came, bringing to him a paralytic, carried by four of them. Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus and, after digging through it, lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, "Son, your sins are forgiven."
Luke 18:1:
Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up.
One Last Thing:
If you are committed to asking our Father for Ann’s physical healing, would you please let us know by replying to this email. I can’t express how much it would mean to Ann, the kids, and I to know that many of you have not given up, that you are still asking and trusting God to heal Ann.
Love,
Howard & Ann
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