‘It was a huge gut punch’

Having a serious disease is tough enough to maneuver and conquer, but when a second one is added on top of it, the medical and personal challenges become even more excruciating.

Rev. Amanda Floy of Owatonna knows firsthand how life can change in a flash. She has found herself facing two incredible obstacles this year—first, chronic kidney disease followed by breast cancer. To complicate matters, one can’t be treated until the other is cured and stays away for at least three years.

“It was a huge gut punch,” Floy said of the cancer. “The initial diagnosis was the worst. Profound grief and fear. I was hopeful I could be getting a new kidney. Cancer is scary.”

The kidney disease is genetic in Floy’s family. For Floy, the disease became apparent five years ago. Just this year it progressed to Stage 5, also known as end-stage renal disease, the most advanced stage of chronic kidney disease, where the kidneys have lost nearly all function.

“My kidneys are done,” said Floy, who has become a well-respected associate pastor at Trinity Lutheran Church in Owatonna over the past decade. “My kidneys never recovered after I gave birth at 26 weeks (in 2020),” she said, noting that was when the kidney problems began to surface. Her son, William, was born prematurely and is now a healthy 5-year-old.

A kidney transplant is required for survival. However, that is out of the question until Floy is cancer-free for three years. She has 30 months remaining.

Kidney transplants aren’t foreign to Floy’s family. In 2007, her father received a transplant with her mother’s kidney. He died two years later from melanoma cancer, unrelated to the transplant.

“I’ve seen the transplant process from a family perspective,” Floy said.

In the meantime, the hope is dialysis will keep Floy alive long enough to get a kidney transplant. After six days of training earlier this month, she begins dialysis at home this week. Dialysis is a treatment that filters waste and excess fluid from the blood when the kidneys are failing. 

“I thought I would be able to dodge it (dialysis), but I’m grateful I can do it at home,” Floy says. “Dialysis will keep my kidneys going. I should be getting fewer highs and lows with dialysis. I’m looking forward to having more energy and not feeling so foggy.”

Cancer diagnosis

Floy, 46, was approved for a transplant earlier this year. As part of the process for kidney transplant, she needed to have a mammogram done. And that’s when things turned even worse for Floy.

In March, doctors found four different types of cancer in both breasts. Looking back, Floy found the worst part of her journey was the biopsy stage. “They’re collecting data, and everything is unknown. You’re sitting in the unknown stage waiting for the biopsy to come back,” she said, adding, “It’s an awful place to sit.”

“It’s a hard pill to swallow,” she said. “We were mentally prepared for a transplant and had an understanding of what it looks like. This through a wrench into everything as we have to first manage the breast cancer.”

In April, Floy underwent a double mastectomy to treat the breast cancer. She began four months of rigorous chemotherapy in June followed by radiation in October. With her kidneys not functioning, she endured five blood transfusions to maintain her blood count.

“I’ve been throwing all my energy into fighting cancer while managing chemotherapy with really poor kidneys,” she said. “With the chemo, I thought it was hell.”

Doctors at Mayo Clinic in Mankato and Rochester declared Floy cancer-free six months ago. She just hopes it stays away long enough for her to hit the three-year mark in order to get a kidney transplant.

“They feel they got it all,” Floy said of the doctors. “Hopefully, the chemo got it. Hopefully, the radiation got it and hopefully the surgery got it. I trust me healthcare professionals.”

Life changing

As she battles cancer and reduced kidney capacity, life has changed significantly. Floy sleeps as much as she can, sometimes as much as 15 hours a day.

Asked how she’s doing, Floy puts it bluntly: “I’m coping. I have been very honest through this. It doesn’t do any good to pretend you are fine when you’re not. I don’t try to fake it.”

Her biggest concern centers on William, who started kindergarten this year. Besides her husband, Dr. Paul Floy, who is an emergency room doctor with Mayo in Austin and Albert Lea, Amanda’s mother also plays a key role in William’s life. 

“I have to keep some normalcy for my son,” Floy said. She noted how she takes great pleasure in how he tells her it’s a beautiful day every day.

But there are also times where William has been right in the middle of his mother’s journey. He helped pick out wigs for her after she had her head shaved by friends.

While life has changed on the home front, things have also changed dramatically for Floy in her professional life as an associate pastor at the area’s largest Lutheran church. She was immediately forced to step away from her pastoral duties for two months while dealing with the medical issues. Looking back, she said it was helpful for her to be away from church.

She has since returned on a limited capacity of 14 hours per week, including weekend services. Earlier this month, she returned to the pulpit for the first time in months to deliver the sermon.

Floy knows all too well how being a pastor casts her into the public eye, and how people are paying even closer attention to her now after dramatic life changes. She said she is focused on being hopeful and honest with other people.

Over the past year, Floy’s appearance has changed significantly from having the mastectomy to losing her hair and wearing wigs. But she issues a strong reminder for people to not focus on the physical appearance of others. “The need to be alive is greater than the need to have boobs. Parts of your body don’t define you. Accept what I look like,” Floy said.

She added, “my identity is something bigger than what I look like. You can be heartbroken with what has happened to your body, but still be hopeful for the future.”

Floy hopes people hear her sermons as conversations. “I don’t want to be preachy. I don’t want to add to people’s pain, but I want to add to their sense of hope,” she said.

When asked about how she juggles her regular duties while being the one facing tremendous adversity in her own life, Floy said being a pastor doesn’t mean you have to have it all together. “Ministry is about presence, not perfection,” she said. “Even while facing serious health challenges, I strive to show up for my congregation with honesty and compassion. Sharing life’s joys and sorrows together reminds me that faith is something we live out in community, not just in moments of strength.”

The pastor said she experiences God’s presence through regular people. “I see Jesus through people, and I need to be around people. The peace I get from being with friends and family outweighs the peace I have from the scriptures,” she said.

She has found grief and gratitude can hold hands together. “You can be thankful and still be cranky,” Floy said, adding “you can also be hopeful and frustrated at the same time.”

Admittedly, Floy is a touchy person who likes to hug. However, she wants people to respect the fact that she currently needs physical distance from others. She said something as simple as catching the flu could derail things and land her right back in the hospital.

“My biggest fear right now is COVID and pneumonia. I don’t have much to fight. I don’t want anything to derail anything,” she said, adding with a big chuckle, “The easiest way to take care of each other is don’t get others sick.”

Why not me?

She speaks candidly about her situation. “I feel it’s unfair, but then I realize it could be worse,” Floy said. “Every day has been a challenge. I am grateful for my faith, but it doesn’t erase fear and pain.”

Asked if she ever is left wondering why she is facing these life dilemmas, Floy responded: “Why not me? I’m not special. Every single person has something in their lives. God is going to bless the best and bless the worst.”

As for her current life crisis, Floy said, “We are all called to be challenged.”

Floy shares insight about her own mortality through the concern of others, namely her son. “I’m not afraid of death, but I am afraid of my son going without a mother. That scares me the most. Those are the kind of intrusive thoughts you have to fight. I have hope in the resurrection (of Jesus Christ), but I want to wait.”

Floy said she is incredibly blessed with the support system from her own family as well as friends. In addition to his demanding career as a doctor, Floy’s husband has picked up all the housework, shopping and taking care of a young child.

He encourages her to rest as much as possible. Currently, she has no desire to cook or even smell foods. “He is awesome at managing all of those things and still work full time,” Floy said of her husband.

The family also receives additional support from her mother, LaNette Weinkauf, who is retired and splits her time between Minnesota and Colorado.

“Bright pieces of sunshine to have family come and help,” Floy said. “I have so much gratitude in those moments.”

But that’s not to say it has been easy for Floy to maneuver through this setback.  

“I lean heavily on prayer, my family, my husband, my mother, and a few close friends who walk this journey with me,” she said. “I’ve learned to accept help when it’s offered, honor my own limits without guilt, take a lot of naps, let myself cry when I need to, and even embrace a sense of fun—like trying out different wigs along the way. Focusing on small victories, moments of beauty, the love that surrounds me, and the gift of good humor has helped me navigate the hardest days with hope.”

What’s ahead?

Floy’s situation has allowed her to become more empathic towards others. She has learned to give people more grace when she is left wondering why people do things a certain way. “If we’re not learning, we’re dying,” she said.

Amid the fatigue, loss of appetite, nausea, headaches and confusion, Floy embraces the gift of each day.

“The brain fog is real,” she said. “I don’t feel I am sharp. I don’t have the capacity to do the job as well as I want to,” she added.

Floy will be on medication for at least the next 10 years. There could also be additional treatments ahead. “It never feels done, and that’s exhausting mentally,” she said.

Floy has identified a candidate for her kidney transplant, though it’s still two and a half years away. “My prayer is that it still works with this candidate,” she said, noting she is blessed with the grace displayed by that person.

As Thanksgiving approaches, Floy is reminded how much there is to be grateful for, even in hardship. Even in her battles, she finds a glimpse of gratitude every day.

“Gratitude is a practice. I’m thankful for my husband, my son, my mother, my close friends who lift me up, and my faith community that carries me in prayer,” Floy said. “I’m also thankful for small, ordinary moments, the gift of good humor, naps, and even the chance to embrace life creatively and playfully—reminders that grace, joy, and connection exist even when life is challenging.”