“I got cored.” That’s what I told my mom and dad when I called them tonight after my bone marrow biopsy. (For those of you that get easily squeamish at medical procedures, skip ahead to the next paragraph). Back to the bone marrow biopsy. If you want to know what that means, it’s like coring an apple, hence my comment to my parents. Despite the fact that they numbed my back and nerves around my bone, I felt the pressure of them basically cork-screwing into my bone to extract a piece of that bone from my hip on the left side in the back. I felt like saying, “Hey, I wanted to KEEP all of my bones, thank you very much,” but I didn’t think that would be appropriate or appreciated. When extracted, it looked like a toothpick. It was maybe the most disturbing procedure I’ve ever had done, and I’m SO grateful to my teammate Kelly who went with me and helped distract me from thinking about what they were doing to me while I was laying there fully awake. Praise the LORD that they ended up only doing it to my left side; initially they planned to do it on the right side too (which might have made me want to pass out or hurt something), but then she said that the one was good enough since it didn’t really look like the lymphoma has spread to my bone marrow (PTL!). While it didn’t hurt too badly (but it is sore right now), it made me more than uncomfortable as I thought about what was actually happening. Other than Kelly blessing me, the other bright spot was that the nurse in there was an Aggie, so of course, I had an immediate bond with my fellow Texan (sidenote–she moved up here because she WANTED a change in seasons. That made me a little concerned that she was half-crazy as she did the procedure…it was 14 degrees this morning, and it gets worse. If you know me, you know how I feel about people volunteering to live in this freezer).

This post is mostly the need to express my indignation at the cruelty of this thing called a bone marrow biopsy, as well as to give you a few more specifics on the tests that are happening. Tomorrow I have to return to Northwestern (3 days in a row…PTL that gas is cheap these days…it took us TWO HOURS to get back in traffic tonight) for a chest X-Ray and a MUGA scan, which basically helps determine my heart’s health and function before we start chemo that can potentially damage it (with very low risks, though). Tuesday is my marathon day: I have a PET scan at 2:45, a Pulmonary Function test at 4:45, and 2 CT scans at 6. For those interested, in a PET scan, they inject me with glucose and then use imaging to see where it’s gone. Tumors metabolize sugar faster than…non-tumors…and so apparently the PET scan will show where the lymphoma is in bright colors. The pulmonary function test is a big name for breathing into a tube to see how my lungs are doing before we start chemo, since the B drug regimen can have effects on the lungs (again, very minimal). The CT scan was described to me back at the ENT’s as showing what you would see if you cut a loaf of bread in half and took a look from the cut side down the shaft of the loaf, and in this case, it’s to make sure that the lymphoma hasn’t spread to my abdomen or spleen or something…I’m an English major, so the fact that I have even taken an interest in something scientific is big but still does not mean I can get all the technical stuff, so bear with me in my limited understanding.

All this has to happen before we start chemo #1 on Thursday, and it’s an answer to prayer that we are knocking them all out in such a short period of time, so thank you! Thanks to my teammates for praying with me and dealing with all the questions. What a blessing to be in a place where so many of my classmates and professors are genuinely praying for me. While Wheaton has not always been MY plan and has not always been easy, I cannot imagine dealing with this anywhere else. God is so faithful–not just in His deeds, but in His character. While it takes me a while to fully jump on board with His plan most of the time (i.e. Wheaton: 3 years into it I decided I should get excited that He’s got me here), His plan is so much better than what I would have done, and somehow, this cancer–and yes, my nemesis “the bone marrow biopsy,” too–all fits into that. Have a blessed night and upcoming weekend, and thanks for all the love and support!

On Christ the solid rock I stand,

Hannah