Memos – Page 2 – Witkowski Blog

February 13, 2022April 19, 2023 Peter Witkowski Memos

April’s February 2022 Cancer Update

April and I arrived at last Wednesday’s juncture worn out like a pair of well-trod shoes. The last few months of chemotherapy treatments have extracted a toll on April’s body and on the souls of our entire family. Though we long for rest, the results of Aprils latest scans revealed the need for a new treatment plan…for more action.

What’s Next

According to April’s UVA team, her breast cancer has managed to squeeze past the safeguards provided by her chemotherapy regimen. It has made noticeable gains in the lymph nodes around her breast. A combination of scans and blood work also strongly suggests that April’s ER+ PR+ and HER2- cancer cells have also started to rebuild themselves within her breast and bones. Thankfully, the tumors in April’s liver remain stable. No new tumors have reached her lungs. Because the cancer has not penetrated her vital organs, the side effects of the new breast cancer growth remain minimal. But as we learned last spring, her cancer will not play nice for long. Last March, April came far too close to the edge of ruin. As the windshield wipers aimlessly swept back and forth on February 3, 2022 following the conversation with April’s UVA oncologists, we determined to do our best to avoid another debacle similar to the one of last March.

Over the past week April and I have repeatedly talked through the various treatment options with April’s UVA and Mayo oncologists, exploring both the standard of care path and the experimental treatment path. Choosing the right way forward has proved difficult for all the paths lead into dense woods with undiscernible futures. Because oncologists have only used hormonal therapies for a little over five years, little data exists regarding what doctors should do after treatments like Ibrance and Letrozole cease to work. With each change in treatment, the discussion moves from estimates and scientific studies to guestimates and anecdotal reflections. After weighing the few things that we could measure such as the physical effects travel against the backdrop of educated guesses, April and I decided to embark upon a standard treatment path composed of two drugs, Fluvestrant and Abemaciclib. The first consists of a shot administered monthly and the second a pill taken twice daily. Together, the drugs promise to keep April’s cancer at bay for another five months. They also threaten only mild side effects such as stomach issues, headaches, and some soreness at the injection locations. In short, the new treatment plan promises to work as well as the chemotherapy but with less side effects.

Though our shoes our worn, we hope this new path will lead us to a period of relative rest.

Reflections

That said, we continue to live in a world of varying shades of uncertainty. The path forward could twist this way or that with little warning. Though we remain confident in our choice, our hope resides not in the path but in the Lord above.

In many ways, our spiritual journey remains centered upon truths we have shared before. Suffering whether cancer or otherwise is the typical lot of the believer. Though April’s youth makes her illness less common and her suffering and that of our family more intense than others, the suffering itself is not an oddity. Jesus declared in Matthew 7:24-27 that the storms of affliction would crash against all of us. Or as James the brother of Jesus says, “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the test of your faith produces steadfastness.” Because we know our suffering is not beyond the knowledge of God, we also know that our God can see us through this time. We do not know where April’s cancer battle will take us. But we do know that we do not have to worry about tomorrow for the God who cares for the lilies of the field cares for us. He will see us through today and tomorrow. Our heavenly Father knows all that we need. When we remember this, we have great hope. When we forget the love of God and gaze only upon the path, we fear everything from the next turn in the treatment path to what a nurse might think of us. The battle forever and always begins and ends not with our circumstances but with our heart. Oh for more steadfastness.

Prayer

Pray that the new medicine would hold the breast cancer at bay for the next 5-6 months.
Pray that our weariness would be replaced with faith that would lead to steadfastness.
Pray for God to grant us the wisdom needed to determine our children’s educational future.
Pray for God to give us straight paths and provide for us the best housing arrangements.
Pray for our children to repent and believe in Jesus Christ.
Pray would be obedient in the mundane stresses of life.

Contact Info

EMAIL US AT: BIBLEFIGHTER@GMAIL.COM

SNAIL-MAIL: P.O. BOX 158/ AMISSVILLE, VA 20106

CALL US AT: 540-937-6159.

SUPPORT US AT GOFUNDME.COM: APRIL WITKOWSKI MEDICAL FUND

SUPPORT US AT PAYPAL: ID: PAWitkowski

November 14, 2021November 14, 2021 April Witkowski Memos

April’s Cancer Update: November 2021

As some of you know, I (April) went through my usual rigmarole of scans last week. Shots of dye, drinks of contrast, and CT machines provide my doctors with data about the current state of my breast cancer tumors. Peter and I went into these scans expecting some dramatic or at least definitive results. After having punched my tumors with the full power of my chemo drugs, we thought the scans would report that my tumors had shrunk. Sadly, that was not the case. But my scans weren’t without some good news either. There does not appear to be any new growth in my tumors. The cancer cells also seem more inactive. This is positive news for sure.

What’s Next

My chemotherapy (Abraxane) has done as much as it can do to fight back my tumors. Now, we move into a maintenance mode. The goal is to stay on my current treatment as long as possible. Until those nasty cancer cells start growing again, we will use the chemo to hold them back. My doctors project the chemo will be effective for about three to six more months. When the cancer morphs and starts growing again, then we will discuss and decide on a new treatment plan.

For now, I will continue to use the Abraxane in a decreased dose. Instead of three weeks on, one week off, I will transition to taking chemo every other week. This has the benefit of less time in the Infusion Center as well as less side effects per week/month.

Chemotherapy has proven to be brutal at times for me. In addition to losing all my hair, eyebrows and eyelashes, there are the occasional fever and chills after the infusion, the constant stomach pains, the decreased appetite, the intense fatigue, and the neuropathy (losing feeling in my fingers and toes). Some days these side effects are more than an annoyance and completely disruptive to my life. There is only so much that a person can push through. Over the last few weeks, I reach that point. Hopefully, a reduction in the Abraxane will increase my quality of life while still holding my cancer at bay.

How Are We Doing?

We walk a tightrope between the good and the bad. We remain hopeful in our God and continue to learn what it means to trust and rely on Him one day at a time. Yet we continue to grieve this incurable disease that has taken up residency in our lives. We can’t ignore the ways that it affects our day-to-day lives.

While we see the good news in these recent scans, we can’t help but still shed tears because the cancer is still in my body. If we could will it away in our own strength, we certainly would have by now! Instead, I’m told my scans are increasingly difficult to read and interpret due to the scarring nature of the disease on my insides.

So I try to focus on the positive aspects of less chemo in the coming days. Still, I know that I will dread Infusion Center building each time I pull into its parking lot.

The idea of better days ahead does not mean easy days. Forcing myself to eat my meals and struggling with the pain in my fingers while fixing my girls’ hair each morning may not go away.

As thankful as I am for the makeup that enables me to draw on eyebrows, the flash lashes that replace my own and wigs that are stylish and complimentary, I miss my own hair and know I’m not getting it back anytime soon. I sometimes feel like cancer has taken away my youth and a sense of who I am, especially when I look in the mirror first thing in the morning.

On this tightrope that we find ourselves, I can confidently say that God has kept us from falling to the ground. We sway from side to side, but He is always there is steady us again. Our faith is not great and our emotions are tumultuous, but our God is good, powerful, and true. He loves me, Peter, Luke, Lily and Lacey. We are learning that His mercies really are new every morning. Great is His faithfulness!

How to Pray:

Please pray for God to heal me, to push back the cancer and to bless my treatments. Nothing is impossible with God.

Pray that I will have the strength that I need each day to endure side effects and to accomplish the tasks that are before me, especially caring for the needs of my family.

Pray that we will experience the mercies of God afresh and that we will know the joy and peace of Christ even on the bad days.

Pray that God will increase our love for our three kiddos. Under the best of circumstances, parenting is no easy feat (much less in the midst of scans and trips to the infusion center).

Pray that God would redeem our three children. Of late some have expressed an increased interest in the gospel.

Contact Info

EMAIL US AT: BIBLEFIGHTER@GMAIL.COM

SNAIL-MAIL: P.O. BOX 637/ AMISSVILLE, VA 20106

CALL US AT: 540-937-6159.

SUPPORT US AT GOFUNDME.COM: APRIL WITKOWSKI MEDICAL FUND

SUPPORT US AT PAYPAL: ID: PAWitkowski

August 29, 2021August 29, 2021 Peter Witkowski Memos

Memo: Summer Update – August 2021

As some of you know, on August 23, April once again walked the gauntlet of breast cancer tests, enduring multiple pokes, odd tasting contrast drinks, and the rumblings of CT and bone scan machines. Thankfully the scans returned favorable results. According to April’s oncologist, the breast cancer tumors scattered throughout her breast, liver, and bones are stable. They have neither significantly shrunk nor grown since April. The scans reaffirm our anecdotal conclusion, that April’s chemotherapy regime has prevented her HER2- ER+ PR+ cancer from advancing further into her life. Today by God’s grace, she finds herself in a state of good health. God is good!

Until her next scans in December 21, April and I will attempt to live out the well-used 1939, British slogan: “Keep calm and carry on.” At times, keeping calm is easier said than done. The experience of watching a 38-year-old woman struggle with periodic bouts of chemo fatigue that causes her to curl up into a ball in her favorite chair proves difficult for all of us. If we allow the bad days to define or set the trajectory for our thought life, the skies over our souls do darken and our heart rates begin to increase. Thankfully, Jesus still reigns on high. When the knowledge of his love infused promises shapes our thoughts, the clouds part and the calm returns to our souls. Indeed, addressing the troubles of today through prayer while trusting the unknowns of tomorrow to the Lord never gets old. Pray that we will continually prefer the promises of God to the fears of today.

To maintain this season of physical calm, April’s oncologists has increased her Abraxane dosage by 20%. Lord willing, this drug increase will further strengthen April’s defenses against her ever-invasive breast cancer, keeping her safe until her next scans. Until then, she will carry on through another three cycles of chemotherapy. Each cycle consists of three weeks of chemo infusions followed by one off week.

The administration of April’s treatment has not radically changed. She still rides the same elevator to the second story infusion center and sits in the same oversized orange chairs as the drug flows into her blood stream. But the increased Abraxane dosage has already exasperated April’s side effects, reintroducing her to the sensations of pain, nausea, and neuropathy. Please pray that these side effects will ease and that her chemotherapy will prove effective for the next three months.

With our hope in Christ, we plan carry on for now. Even when April can barely walk, she keeps the laundry going, organizes photoshoots, and facilitates our kiddos back-to-school preparations. When having her good days, April reads stories, cooks meals, and keeps us with a sense of normalcy. On both her good days and her, she provides the other four with the organization we possess. The three amigos are both eagerly and apprehensively looking towards the new school year which will commence with our oldest two children at Fresta Valley Christian School. We remain ever thankful for our Fresta family. Lastly, I too carry on in the pulpit of Amissville Baptist Church with the help, care, and understanding of my fellow elders, deacons, and ABC members. With fits and starts and a good deal of grace, we are slowly starting to craft a new normal around April’s bad days that makes the most of her good days! We will drop another update in December. Until then, we hope to keep calm and carry on.

Thank you for loving us well!