Month: June 2023

Medical Mile

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Had I hiked to heaven? Suddenly, my heart rate seemed to halt.  My chest filled with captivating coldness. Was this a dream? My bones didn’t ache…yet. The thrill of the climb fueled my feet. Prayers and patience propelled my persistence to the peak. Months of building muscle with incline were paying off. It would be the first of several 14’ers,…or so I thought. Spinning slowly, I rotated 360 degrees detecting and distinguishing that which had only been real in diorama form. For many minutes I marveled. It was time to descend before the looming storm and darkness approached.

Grays Peak (10th highest summit of Rocky Mountains-14,278 ft-highest point on Continental Divide and Continental Divide Trail in North America) -a storm was approaching too soon to take ridge to Torrey’s peak. Gray’s is considered an easy hike among mountaineers! Eating lunch with mountain goats was as great as the peak!

There was no training on how to descend. For me, it was harder than the climb. There were times the steep steps made my hips feel pierced with daggers. My side was sore and suffering. My spirit stayed strong. Stopping, I prayed, “God, give me the strength to muster my muscle for this deliberate decline. Let it be a delicate dip that that honors you with each careful step down to the valley.”

Many years and experiences have followed that feat. There were mountains, small and tall. Little things gave evidence to big things. Some I tried to hide in my daily strolls. Striking pain and sympathy for others placed me on a solo trip. Just like the guardian angels of the Himalayas, my sure-footed tribe became my Sherpas. Many miles became a few miles. Now, one mile is a miracle.

But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

Isaiah 40:31
Little did I know the mountains ahead. Can you even imagine the beauty of heaven?

Ten days and one mile ago…

A building was its peak, and the air was warm; but not muggy. I had to take advantage of the cooler morning. I NEEDED this tiny mountain in my area. “You can do this, Karla,” I told myself. “God, give me strength for each step.”

The turtle talked of his rock. Squirrels scrambled and played games on the bridge. Trees told stories of long ago. The creek cried tears of happiness with me. For what seemed like an eternity I felt “home” again. Suddenly, sweat started beading on my body-my legs labored with my breath.

WAS IT ALREADY TIME TO REST? The laughter and chatter broke through the silence on the path. Smiling, I watched this gregarious group led by an exhausted leader. It was a group of Tigers from Republic (Missouri). The fearless leader spoke, and I gave her encouragement. My career began 31 years ago as a Tiger. We giggled about their enthusiasm and our commonality in careers (also, in personality, from what I could perceive). They wanted to tell me EVERYTHING. Have I told you how much I enjoy being around kids? My heart was so happy watching them wander off. It was just me, God, nature, and the silence again.

Silence on my short walk was stifled when I sat slumped on a rock. My heart was pounding through my chest. The air in my lungs burned like my feet. Had I even walked ONE mile? I thought of the peaks. My tiny precious grandgirl from Warrensburg was celebrating a birthday. My two other little grands from Texas popped up on my phone. They all became my little Sherpas. The peak became clear. My confidence grew with my grit. Facetime became a mini field trip. Missouri frogs, snakes, and a puppet center. Oh, the kindness felt when the workers met these precious faces on my tiny screen. Stickers were even given!

It was time to leave my tiny mountain range. Fatigue flattened me. Faith fueled me. It was time to go home and rest. Another mile was waiting for me-the medical mile. This range is made up of buildings, traffic, cars, and people. Some days it seems too high to climb. God and my Sherpas are by my side. 💚

A peaceful path
Goodby, Tiger friends!
Which way should I go?
My turtle friend!
When peace is like a …creek on a trail.
Make a wish!
“Love is the bridge between you and everything“-Rumi

Have you heard of NET, yet?🦓

I wrote the short “Medical Mile” on June 15th. The week prior I received an injection and shots to help boost my cells and platelets. Last Thursday I went in for a follow-up (weekly blood lab). One hour turned into 4 hours. The blood and cell counts even lower. It explained a lot of why I felt so lousy! On Friday I had a blood transfusion and two shots (one to boost red cell production and one for white to help reduce the risk of infection). They lost my blood from the day before (I MUST take it all in stride and with patience💕). A 24-hour pain crisis followed on early Saturday. Here I am, today, so happy to write to you. A surprise visit from a friend. A weekend filled with new blood, love and help from family, and even stronger faith. Weekly, I’ll go in for labs. In two weeks I’ll have another bone infusion. For those that might ask about my progress and goals-to stabilize the disease, extend my life, and keep me strong enough for treatments. Pain is part of the process-nerve damage, the size of the tumors, the bone mets, there are days better than others; just like we all have. I do feel weaker than a year ago. But my heart is staying strong. It’s all in the blood, my friends. Ultimately, it’s been there the entire time-the blood of Jesus! Like I always say, many have it worse. No one is guaranteed tomorrow. I’m not trying to be a hero. I’m just a middle-aged gal in MO with a rare cancer. I recognize and appreciate the good, balance what seems “bad”, and look at everything, I mean everything, with a heavenly perspective. We all battle something. I don’t have to walk a mile in your shoes to have compassion. I see you. I love you. God loves you.

Make each mile count. ❤️

My “peak” view the day I left one year ago.
A view from the “peak”
A different hike that day.
I’ll forever be grateful to blood donors–thank you, donors. ❤️
The “mile” extends roughly from the St. John’s campus on 11 acres at 1235 E. Cherokee St., at National Avenue and Sunshine Street, to CoxHealth’s south campus at 3850 S. National Ave.
Long before the Medical Mile was imagined, both health systems had roots in Springfield.

St. John’s Hospital was formed in 1891 by three Sisters of Mercy, according to www.stjohns.com, and CoxHealth was founded in 1906 as Burge Deaconess Hospital. Source: Winkle, C. (2010, July 26). sbj.net/stories/no-1-springfields-medical-mile. Retrieved from Springfield Business Journal: https://sbj.net/stories/no-1-springfields-medical-mile,23640

My friends from SW MO are aware of the “Medical Mile”. The article above was from 2010. St. John’s is now Mercy Hospital. I’m thankful for both hospitals. Currently, my treatments are with several specialists from the Cox Health system. To those that donate blood–thank you from the bottom of my heart. Because of you, I’m going to enjoy a visit with my family this week. Because of you, my legs and feet don’t hurt as bad today. Because of you, many people are living today. Your sacrifice does not go unnoticed. Thank you. ❤️❤️❤️

Have faith💚

K.L. Hale's avatar

Embracing imperfection with faith, flannel, and fresh air!

K.L. Hale

For more about NET cancer, check out this amazing resource!

Tandem Tuesday

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They were both small-town kids. She was raised a preacher’s daughter. He had to make bowling more Baptist if they were to date. Revivals weren’t revelry to teens in the 60s. Both families were known throughout the sprawling hayfields, curves, and dirt roads between the towns of Billings and Nixa.

The ice cream parlor and small downtown, the church and the gym, a schoolhouse and family dinners, a ball player and homecoming queen…alongside each other. In tandem, they exchanged their vows on June 12th, 1964.

Fifty-nine years. “Where did the time go?” they asked one another.  It was years of babies, ballgames, and teens. Grandkids, responsibilities, careers, and the church. Forgiveness, love, grit, and determination. Do you see the wheels turning? Do you see their beautiful tandem journey? Tired legs, pulled groins, gray hair, and health scares. They’re still riding tandem; not on a bike. I watched them pull out of my driveway as we waved sweet goodbyes. Such an amazing couple-tandem, fifty-nine years.  

Love is not about having someone fight for you (like I once believed). It can certainly get old fighting with someone…love is about giving up the fight…and giving it to God. Let faith and belief work in tandem. Cooperation, collaboration, and a Christ-minded combination-it worked for these small-town kids. Happy 59th Anniversary to my amazing parents. I love you, more.

Not tandem, but still together–pic by Jay Snook (my son)-Wenatchee, Washington

Speaking of love…

I grew up listening to OLD country music (and southern gospel, The Eagles, Boston, musicals, etc…). Music is life to me. Music is love. The nights I hardly slept I watched a series, “George and Tammy” about George Jones and Tammy Wynette. The sounds of the old country songs and those UNIQUE VOICES (unlike many of today), fierce love and fights, …and a reconciliation right before her death. Those two were just alike. Yet, couldn’t make it work, in tandem. I could relate to Tammy. For Hollywood purposes, much was exaggerated (keep in mind it’s rated R). Another night I finished a documentary about Sheryl Crow-a Missouri girl who I can definitely understand. Love was the root of both stories. And it was FELT in their art, their craft, their music. Just as I loved singing growing up around mom’s piano, with Dad singing tenor, under the steeples, in a canoe, hiking a trail, and the best, singing with my sons, I’ll not stop singing. Especially songs of love. I’m going to attach a YouTube video of George Jones and his daughter singing the most beautiful song (written by Georgette, George, and Tammy’s only daughter together). This song, along with one of my favorites by him (“He Stopped Loving Her Today”) made me think of days in the past. But also, how love, if given the right foundation and forgiveness, can bring such healing and comfort.

Have you heard of NET, yet?🦓

Surreal. It’s the only word I can think of to describe this journey. Last week was filled with trips between “floors” of the cancer center, insurance hiccups, long hours, and side effects. Due to low platelets, red and white blood cells, and risk of infection, my oncologist ordered several consecutive days of shots to increase the counts. I’ll have bone-strengthening infusions every 3 weeks. My body must recover to receive my last treatment.

In the lobby area was one of our small-town friends. I hoped that I would never run into anyone I knew. The odds prove I will. On the day of the bone infusion, was another familiar family. He, a former school superintendent (MY boss), shared hope and prayers. He has always reminded me of my dad, growing my grit and teaching a toughness (with added tenderness). His loving and caring wife offered hugs and love, too. It gave my mom and me comfort. Words can’t describe what this meant to me.

After a year crammed with research, learning, scans, treatments, and teaching, I felt like a new student at school. The ZOOM virtual support group and meeting last Wednesday still have me pinching myself. Did I just meet nearly 40 other new friends with this cancer? Although the curriculum was somewhat familiar, in tandem, there were new partners pedaling with me. Many have been on this journey for a long time. Some new, like me. Like zebras, we are all different, I was reminded.  Surreal. There were others that are inoperable. Nearly two hours went by. New faces, smiles, and frustrations. Shared symptoms, an amazing doctor, and a meet-and-greet. I’ve exchanged information with a doctor in Maryland who specializes in this cancer (thanks to the resources in this group). New friends have reached out by email and future ZOOM meetings will be held. Priorities, other than faith and family, must shift as I participate in support that will strengthen my steadfastness. Each Wednesday I will do my best to attend the ZOOM meetings. This has, and will, impact my time reading your stories and communicating at times. It’s essential I celebrate the new connection by being active. It’s my goal to listen and learn from those who have been battling this cancer. After my first meeting tears of joy ran down my face. For those of you that have had breast cancer, you know what it’s like to meet someone who has had breast cancer. Or pancreatic. Perhaps colon. Or even leukemia. It’s no different from connecting with friends that have like-minded beliefs, hobbies or have experienced similar life experiences. Human connections.

The best part of my week? On Saturday I felt strong enough for the drive to my youngest son’s and daughter-in-law’s house to have an early 3rd birthday for my precious granddaughter, Whitley. There was laughter, memories, and delicious food. To be here to celebrate her 3rd, another birthday next month of my amazing grandson, Asher (his 4th), and his sister, another precious granddaughter (Ainsley) in August (her 2nd); that’s what life is about.

I dream of laughter, games, zoos, and books. Of music, mountains, naps, and movies. It’s the simple things. I don’t have to climb any more mountains for I have stood on the peaks already. I’ve floated on faith in the rivers at the bottom and found victories in the valleys. My heart is filled with hope, although my body feels weaker. Find the things that tandemly transform your thinking and fuel your faith.

In tandem, faith, and family, will keep me moving forward. Can you find the things that tandemly transform your thoughts and fuel your faith? You are loved, my friends.

The Great Escape-Conclusion

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My camping chronicles conclusion. It’s been fun “camping” with you, friends. 💚

“They gave me 3 months to live,” she said, looking at her girlfriend. “It was January of 2020.”  A lump formed in my throat-tears stung my eyes. My heart sighed; I nodded. With complete empathy, sympathy, and understanding, I listened as this 60-something-year-old stupendous stranger shared her courageously epic account (and how Covid made everything worse). The colorectal cancer metastasized to the liver. There she stood…THREE years later! A thriver, her friend, and two furry cuties were camping in their cool and compact R.V. I smiled. They were my neighbors at site 35.💚

How cute are those dogs? “Adorable!” I thought. A Yorkie (I’ve rescued one of those before) and a precious tiny white Shih Tzu. The gal without cancer exclaimed, “Finley!”, as the Shih Tzu jumped up and down to greet us. Immediately, I looked at MY Finley in my arms. Camping coincidence?

“We were trying to think of a name, and we crossed the Finley River…” …her voice trailed off as I looked around for a camera. Is this a joke? DO THEY KNOW ME?  With a dropped jaw and stunned face, I looked around for someone familiar. The ladies just stared at me. (Insert cricket sounds). Will they believe me?

Karen and Teresa were so kind. They asked if I was camping alone. Gulp. Should I share I have cancer that metastasized to the liver, or will they report this “crazy woman” or try to move their camper away from me? I felt like Kristin Wiig from a skit on Saturday Night Live years ago where she ONE UPPED everything that was said. “Oh, you have cancer?” “Well, so DO I.” “Yours metastasized to the liver?” “So did mine!” “You have a dog named Finley?” “I gave birth to my dog, Finley (are you laughing out loud? If you’ve seen her skit, you know why I typed this and I hope you’re laughing) They believed me as we laughed over our “coincidences”. We marveled at the miracles and connections. Later we even shared food.

The following day, while relaxing and listening to “Marco! Polo!” echoing from young shadows at the lake, I had another camping coincidental call. A friend, and former work camping neighbor at the resort where I lived/worked, was diagnosed with cancer recently. His wife, also a worker and dear friend, shared the devastating news about the metastasis of his stomach cancer to the liver. The 3 of us spoke by speakerphone. There were tears, questions, some confusion, shared understanding (and even laughter). Karen said, “We’re not giving up are we, Karla? We’re going to fight it for family.” She wanted Rich to hear this. Rich agreed he’d do the same.  At that moment I marveled, AGAIN, at how God connects his creations.

This is the OTHER Finley River and Teresa in the background!

Camping wasn’t an escape from cancer. Cancer needed camping. Fires burned with hope and humanity, shared stories, and a common love for the outdoors. Cancer found a content companion. Camping coincidences?

“God, with you, it’s not a coincidence. It’s soul serendipity and divine destiny.” My nature retreat was a rejuvenation of my soul. Away from the noise, angry traffic, and worries. It cleared my soul and mind; it gave me super soul stories.”

Thank you, friends, for supporting me and reading my shorts, The Great Escape. How do you find a soul retreat? It doesn’t have to be miles away. Although my life is different in many ways, I can find “retreats” in each new day. It’s still in the silence of the morning, a sip with my Savior, songs of the birds, giggles of the grandkids, and the gathering of the geese. It’s my 3 F’s-Family, Friends, and Faith (make that 4-Finley🐾). It’s in possibilities and loosely hidden in the now. Can you find it?

Have faith 💚

Have you heard of NET, yet? 🦓

Tomorrow I have an appointment with my oncologist. This is a very important one. Will my blood be fine to move forward with last treatment in a few weeks? How does he see my progress? What is my next step? Can I have sleep aide please? When will the next scan be scheduled? This Wednesday I will be participating in a Virtual ZOOM support group from the Los Angelas area. LACNETS https://www.lacnets.org/ is a community of support, education, and advocacy. There are approximately 175,000 of us living with this rare disease. Recently, I shared my story with them. I’ve watched survivor videos for hours. I’ve yet met another person with this cancer that has been deemed “inoperable” due to metastasis to the bones. Perhaps I will. I struck gold finding them!

If you feel alone, feel free to reach out @ finleyriverpublishing@gmail.com. God-willing, me-thriving, you’ll hear from me within a week. If you know of anyone in a similar battle, or could use encouragement, feel free to share my site and information.

Take care, sweet friends. You are loved. No matter what. 💚