2011 has taken my family on a journey which I never thought possible. The year started just as any other year then as you know, my wife of 9 years was diagnosed with stage III breast cancer in March at the young age of 34. Time stood still and our family was put on hold for almost 9 months exactly. She just finished up her last radiation treatment last week. She has taught me how to be a hero for my children when faced with adversity and obstacles. Over the course of her treatment, I never really heard her complain. First the chemo, then the surgery, then the radiation which blistered her... all without a single major complaint. Amazing I say!
This Christmas, as you can guess, is quite an emotional one for our family - at least for this fellow. It's all about perspective for me. I know that God didn't cause my wife to get cancer. I am a firm believer He will use this experience and turn it into a good purpose as stated in the scripture. Perhaps, He has already done it. Christmas never has been about the toys and gadgets with the blinky blippy lights; however, this time around, the message of Christmas has never been more out in the open. I am a blessed man. What a ride it has been over the last two years. If you follow the blog, it seems that these boulders have been pushed into our little pond causing tsunamis to keep us just rolling and drifting. God has seen us through every challenge life has put into our paths. Faith remains unshaken.
This year we're just kind of scaling back in everything from decorations, to parties, to even presents. We are enjoying looking at all of the lights on the houses with our children. They are getting old enough to really have fun looking at them and we never know where our journey will take us as we drive around. They even get the jokes that Daddy makes about some of the horrible lighting we find where it looks like the home owners just opened their front doors and pitched a clump of lights out onto a solitary bush. $500,000 home, $4.99 worth of lights. I'm not saying to Grizwald your house, but as my father says, "go all in" in whatever you do. In the end, the only light that matters is what we let shine through this dark and decaying world. I pray that my family's little light shines as bright as it can to all around us. We love you and thank you all for your support over the past two years, especially 2011.
I am lucky enough to live in the town where I was born in 1971. I lived in Georgia and Louisiana (GEAUX TIGERS/SAINTS) for about 13 years then moved back here after high school. After college, I traveled around the country for a few years for work then quit and moved back home. This little town hasn't changed that much over the years. The mall is still humble and we all wonder how it stays open. There are very few traffic lights compared to other cities. My children play at the parks that I remember playing at as a young boy. Dubbs restaurant is still open and busy as usual and the bowling alley on the highway is still open and thriving even after the newer more high-tech place folded and went out of business.
The postman still smiles and says "your girls are growing up so fast - they are all cute." The garbage man leaves a Christmas card on his last pickup before Christmas. Subdivisions backup to farm land and I can show my youngest daughter the simple things in life. Did you know that when it's frosty cold, you can see a cow pass gas? This morning I got to call a donkey over to the fence and he brayed really loud at us. The look on my daughter's face really summed things up - amazement and shock as she said "Daddy - that was so cool!"
We do have two Wal Marts in the twin cities here. They are building a new digital theater. The mall is growing. We have Starbucks (of course) and more restaurants per capita than any other place on Earth it seems. Two lane roads are becoming four lane roads and I hardly recognize the hospital where my wife and I and our kids were born. People are texting at dinner or just bringing tablet computers into the restaurants with them to watch the news or whatever. Progress happens but I'm proud of this little town. Football on Friday nights is still a big thing and our neighbors wave as we go out to get the mail or say "hi" at the local grocery.
Driving around on a cold fall night looking at Christmas lights may seem like a simple thing to some of you - but in this crazy world in which we live, it is nice to have simple anchors which keep young families together and to cling to traditions when society says "that is so 10 minutes ago." Life can throw things at you for which you do not and can not plan. These simple things given to us to enjoy by God keep us upright during a storm.
May you find peace and happiness this holiday season. If you are going through your own trials, I can say that if God lets you go through a trial, He will surely see you through. Cling tightly to your loved ones and just watch them over the next few weeks. Take everything in. Slow down. Build memories without rushing time. Let your kids have pillow fights and jump on the couch. Let that last load of laundry slide a day or two. Leave work at work. Have a lazy Saturday. Breathe. Celebrate. Love.
Merry Christmas Everyone!
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Four year old stream of consiousness
Daddy.
There he is - asleep.
He's on the couch.
He's too big for the couch.
He's twisted like a pretzel.
The fan is spinning.
I'm hungry.
I will wake him up now to feed me.
Oh look the sun isn't up yet.
I need to turn on a light.
This one over his face looks perfect!
His lower back looks comfy.
I shall jump on it now to show him how much I love him.
bounce
bounce
bounce
bounce
Daddy's eyes are open.
He's so proud of me for being quiet on a saturday morning that he can't even speak.
"Good morning Daddy!!!!! It's Saturday - wake up you sleepy head."
There he is - asleep.
He's on the couch.
He's too big for the couch.
He's twisted like a pretzel.
The fan is spinning.
I'm hungry.
I will wake him up now to feed me.
Oh look the sun isn't up yet.
I need to turn on a light.
This one over his face looks perfect!
His lower back looks comfy.
I shall jump on it now to show him how much I love him.
bounce
bounce
bounce
bounce
Daddy's eyes are open.
He's so proud of me for being quiet on a saturday morning that he can't even speak.
"Good morning Daddy!!!!! It's Saturday - wake up you sleepy head."
Monday, August 29, 2011
Surgery Day
I cannot believe the span of time which has flown by. It has been the quickest yet longest time of my life if that makes any sense. Holding down a full time day job, running my own business, tending to three precious girls and being the rock of support for my wife takes a lot of time. So tonight I'm pausing to reflect on my wife and the journey which we started so many months ago.
In my last post I said that I was going to use this as a blog where I'd post my feelings and lend some support to husbands going through as the lead support member for a wife fighting cancer. The truth is, I simply don't know how I feel. I've had to compartmentalize my feelings in such a way as to not disrupt any other area of my life. If I unwound it wouldn't be beneficial to anyone. Maybe that is my first piece of advice. Gentlemen, if you ever have to go through this with your spouse - suck it up and simply be a man. Keep the job sound and benefits secure. Take care of your children and answer honestly without scaring their tender hearts. No matter how scared you are, don't cry in front of them. Take a trip to home depot and cry in the power tool section. That is the one place that other men won't give two hoots if you're crying or not. You'll see many men sobbing over tools they can't afford and you'll fit right in. I've done it. I am not ashamed.
My wife started chemo on April 8, 2011 when she was 34. She had her second one on her 35th birthday, third on my birthday, 4th on a vacant weekend, 5 on july 4th weekend, and the 6th just before school started. It has been an emotional blender.
We started the morning of April 8th not knowing what to think, what to expect. I assumed my role as supportive husband and took my position in the waiting area outside the "Chemo Hut" as the brave patients at the hospital have coined the infusion room. By her side every step of the way sat her mommy - an eight year survivor herself. Time drug on and we were there for about 6 hours for her first treatment. It is amazing to me how much medicines have advanced in just the past few years. The doctors have been incredible - never scaring us, always informing us and I am humbled by their knowledge. With the first treatment over, now we had to wait to see what side effects would hit her. Everyone reacts differently.
As we settled into our routine, we somehow found ways to laugh. I know that laughter and positive attitudes really do make a difference. So I decided early on to be an ear when she needed to talk, be a shoulder when she needed to cry, but more than anything -provide a sense of normalcy and stability by acting like the same ole chubby dumbass just as I have for almost 10 years. 14 days in, I was shaving her head because her hair had started falling out just as her oncologist said it would. The preciseness of information is totally amazing to me.
This has been our routine over the past 5 months. Every three weeks like clockwork, we made the trip to the Chemo Hut for her treatments. She drug me on 2 mile walks after the first two treatments but we haven't been walking since. We need to start back up in a few but it has been really hot and she doesn't need that stress. Her last treatment was 5 weeks ago.
Neither cancer nor the medicines discriminate. Cancer doesn't care if you skinny, fat, black, white, nice, mean, a parent, a child, a spouse. The treatments don't care if it is a perfectly healthy cell, or a malignant tumor cell. The medicine's job is to kill everything. The only reason you don't die from chemo is because the healthy cells regenerate faster than the tumor cells. Still, chemo is brutal for the patients and it's heart breaking for the support team. My wife has the most gorgeous eyes, adorned by long eyelashes that just flutter and wave at you when she smiles. I can't wait for them to grow back. Of course, as always, my wife is simply stunning, with or without hair.
After the third treatment, we had to take her in for a bone scan and MRI. Both of these tests came back clear and I said many prayers of thanks. She also had a genetic test which came back negative and the HER2 test came back negative. From what the doctors could tell, her tumor would probably be a slow growing non-inflammatory type. That left us wondering how long she has already been a cancer survivor. You see, her doctors keep reinforcing that if you have lived one day with cancer, you are in fact a cancer survivor. Survival, Love, Faith, Hope. These are words which we have clung to for months. In fact, I wrap myself in them as a blanket each night as I drift off to sleep.
The MRI after the 4th treatment also showed that the tumors haven't shrunk that much. There are three tumors, 7cm, 1.3cm and 1.6cm on the right side and she tested positive for malignancy in the L1 lymph node in her armpit. The doctor told us that they probably won't shrink that much at this rate so he wanted to tweak her regimen and add Avastin to her IV bags. Avastin is actually a colo-rectal chemotherapy that is being used off label with good success in the treatment of breast cancer. It's controversial because it's really expensive. However - who cares what it costs as long as it works, right? I've had shots of Avastin in my eye for the treatment of a retinal hemangioma. However, I haven't had a whole IV bag. Just a little made me tired. Avastin specializes in basically cutting off the food supply for tumors and lets the main regimen really do its work. I knew at this point, she would be having more side effects and would more time to rest.
She proved me wrong. I am married to a cyborg of some sort. She is a machine who takes chemo, gets knocked down for a few days, picks herself back up and goes "ok now I need to get the girls ready for school, shop the thrift shops, refinish a few pieces of furniture..." She is incredible and has taught me how to be a better person in the last 4 months.
Chemos 4-6 just seemed to fly by and the doctors increased her Avastin dosage with each treatment. Somehow we found time to take a quick vacation to the beach even for just a few days. Sun, fun, giggles with the children, walks on the beach and time to unwind and take a deep breath. Then back to reality.
The last 9 weeks have been insane. Non-stop action with doctor appointments, school starting, family in town and even garage sales. You can't have nice summer days without a garage sale. During all of this she has refused to let cancer get her down. Sure she says she a little tired, in a little pain but she refuses to let his get her down. She fights like a girl and I am amazed that she has not really complained at all.
Tonight I sit in the hospital room watching her through this phase of her journey. I have the hum of the pneumatic bed and the glow of the laptop screen to keep me company and my friends and family on the internet to help keep my spirits up. I love you all for you words of encouragement and support. This has been a long, long day. This morning at 430am, we got up and grabbed the bag and headed to the hospital for her surgery. Since the tumors really didn't shrink that much we knew that she was facing a mastectomy. "Whatever it takes" has been her mantra since diagnosis. She lives by this every day. You see we have three of the most precious daughters that anyone could ever ask for depending on mommy getting better. Daddy depends on her getting better too.
Surprise visits from friends and family and new friends today have made it a lot easier on me. Thankfully she has rested well as the day has progresed. Seeing your spouse going through something like this is ... horrible. That is an understatement. I wish we had the technology to just take this cancer out of her and put it in me. Let me have to suffer the chemo and surgery, upcoming radiation and more surgery. Let me be the one laying in the bed in pain with drain tubes stuck in my side. Let me be the one.
But it doesn't work that way. Cancer is a honey badger - it simply doesn't care. All I can do is be supportive - no matter how scared or frustrated I am. I do this proudly and without ceasing - without question. God sent me an angel almost 10 years ago. He as seen us through quite a bit over the years and has never left our sides. Looking back, we may only see one set of footsteps but that is when He was carrying us when we could no longer walk by His side. I have no doubt what-so-ever that tonight He is in this room doing His miracles.
My wife is stunning. She is a beautiful warrior in pink. She is my teacher and I am her student, sitting here in utter amazement. If my feminine side is half the woman which she is, I am a better man. So gentlemen, for now, if you are reading this and starting down a similar journey I have one piece of advice. Suck it up and fight like a girl.
In my last post I said that I was going to use this as a blog where I'd post my feelings and lend some support to husbands going through as the lead support member for a wife fighting cancer. The truth is, I simply don't know how I feel. I've had to compartmentalize my feelings in such a way as to not disrupt any other area of my life. If I unwound it wouldn't be beneficial to anyone. Maybe that is my first piece of advice. Gentlemen, if you ever have to go through this with your spouse - suck it up and simply be a man. Keep the job sound and benefits secure. Take care of your children and answer honestly without scaring their tender hearts. No matter how scared you are, don't cry in front of them. Take a trip to home depot and cry in the power tool section. That is the one place that other men won't give two hoots if you're crying or not. You'll see many men sobbing over tools they can't afford and you'll fit right in. I've done it. I am not ashamed.
My wife started chemo on April 8, 2011 when she was 34. She had her second one on her 35th birthday, third on my birthday, 4th on a vacant weekend, 5 on july 4th weekend, and the 6th just before school started. It has been an emotional blender.
We started the morning of April 8th not knowing what to think, what to expect. I assumed my role as supportive husband and took my position in the waiting area outside the "Chemo Hut" as the brave patients at the hospital have coined the infusion room. By her side every step of the way sat her mommy - an eight year survivor herself. Time drug on and we were there for about 6 hours for her first treatment. It is amazing to me how much medicines have advanced in just the past few years. The doctors have been incredible - never scaring us, always informing us and I am humbled by their knowledge. With the first treatment over, now we had to wait to see what side effects would hit her. Everyone reacts differently.
As we settled into our routine, we somehow found ways to laugh. I know that laughter and positive attitudes really do make a difference. So I decided early on to be an ear when she needed to talk, be a shoulder when she needed to cry, but more than anything -provide a sense of normalcy and stability by acting like the same ole chubby dumbass just as I have for almost 10 years. 14 days in, I was shaving her head because her hair had started falling out just as her oncologist said it would. The preciseness of information is totally amazing to me.
This has been our routine over the past 5 months. Every three weeks like clockwork, we made the trip to the Chemo Hut for her treatments. She drug me on 2 mile walks after the first two treatments but we haven't been walking since. We need to start back up in a few but it has been really hot and she doesn't need that stress. Her last treatment was 5 weeks ago.
Neither cancer nor the medicines discriminate. Cancer doesn't care if you skinny, fat, black, white, nice, mean, a parent, a child, a spouse. The treatments don't care if it is a perfectly healthy cell, or a malignant tumor cell. The medicine's job is to kill everything. The only reason you don't die from chemo is because the healthy cells regenerate faster than the tumor cells. Still, chemo is brutal for the patients and it's heart breaking for the support team. My wife has the most gorgeous eyes, adorned by long eyelashes that just flutter and wave at you when she smiles. I can't wait for them to grow back. Of course, as always, my wife is simply stunning, with or without hair.
After the third treatment, we had to take her in for a bone scan and MRI. Both of these tests came back clear and I said many prayers of thanks. She also had a genetic test which came back negative and the HER2 test came back negative. From what the doctors could tell, her tumor would probably be a slow growing non-inflammatory type. That left us wondering how long she has already been a cancer survivor. You see, her doctors keep reinforcing that if you have lived one day with cancer, you are in fact a cancer survivor. Survival, Love, Faith, Hope. These are words which we have clung to for months. In fact, I wrap myself in them as a blanket each night as I drift off to sleep.
The MRI after the 4th treatment also showed that the tumors haven't shrunk that much. There are three tumors, 7cm, 1.3cm and 1.6cm on the right side and she tested positive for malignancy in the L1 lymph node in her armpit. The doctor told us that they probably won't shrink that much at this rate so he wanted to tweak her regimen and add Avastin to her IV bags. Avastin is actually a colo-rectal chemotherapy that is being used off label with good success in the treatment of breast cancer. It's controversial because it's really expensive. However - who cares what it costs as long as it works, right? I've had shots of Avastin in my eye for the treatment of a retinal hemangioma. However, I haven't had a whole IV bag. Just a little made me tired. Avastin specializes in basically cutting off the food supply for tumors and lets the main regimen really do its work. I knew at this point, she would be having more side effects and would more time to rest.
She proved me wrong. I am married to a cyborg of some sort. She is a machine who takes chemo, gets knocked down for a few days, picks herself back up and goes "ok now I need to get the girls ready for school, shop the thrift shops, refinish a few pieces of furniture..." She is incredible and has taught me how to be a better person in the last 4 months.
Chemos 4-6 just seemed to fly by and the doctors increased her Avastin dosage with each treatment. Somehow we found time to take a quick vacation to the beach even for just a few days. Sun, fun, giggles with the children, walks on the beach and time to unwind and take a deep breath. Then back to reality.
The last 9 weeks have been insane. Non-stop action with doctor appointments, school starting, family in town and even garage sales. You can't have nice summer days without a garage sale. During all of this she has refused to let cancer get her down. Sure she says she a little tired, in a little pain but she refuses to let his get her down. She fights like a girl and I am amazed that she has not really complained at all.
Tonight I sit in the hospital room watching her through this phase of her journey. I have the hum of the pneumatic bed and the glow of the laptop screen to keep me company and my friends and family on the internet to help keep my spirits up. I love you all for you words of encouragement and support. This has been a long, long day. This morning at 430am, we got up and grabbed the bag and headed to the hospital for her surgery. Since the tumors really didn't shrink that much we knew that she was facing a mastectomy. "Whatever it takes" has been her mantra since diagnosis. She lives by this every day. You see we have three of the most precious daughters that anyone could ever ask for depending on mommy getting better. Daddy depends on her getting better too.
Surprise visits from friends and family and new friends today have made it a lot easier on me. Thankfully she has rested well as the day has progresed. Seeing your spouse going through something like this is ... horrible. That is an understatement. I wish we had the technology to just take this cancer out of her and put it in me. Let me have to suffer the chemo and surgery, upcoming radiation and more surgery. Let me be the one laying in the bed in pain with drain tubes stuck in my side. Let me be the one.
But it doesn't work that way. Cancer is a honey badger - it simply doesn't care. All I can do is be supportive - no matter how scared or frustrated I am. I do this proudly and without ceasing - without question. God sent me an angel almost 10 years ago. He as seen us through quite a bit over the years and has never left our sides. Looking back, we may only see one set of footsteps but that is when He was carrying us when we could no longer walk by His side. I have no doubt what-so-ever that tonight He is in this room doing His miracles.
My wife is stunning. She is a beautiful warrior in pink. She is my teacher and I am her student, sitting here in utter amazement. If my feminine side is half the woman which she is, I am a better man. So gentlemen, for now, if you are reading this and starting down a similar journey I have one piece of advice. Suck it up and fight like a girl.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Confirmation
Test results back in and Christina has Invasive Ductal Carcinoma breast cancer with malignancy in a lymph node biopsy. My heart is broken for her but she is an incredible woman I have no doubts at all that she is going to pull through this and come out stronger on the other side. We made the decision to at least start to tell the children about what is going on. She decided that it would be easier coming from her because Daddy can be intimidating even though I don't mean to be. I agree with her. Easing them into this new reality as innocently and honestly as possible is the way we're going to go. I can tell right now, those three precious girls are going to be a great support for us as we take this journey as a family. May God just wrap us all in a big hug and let the laughter and giggles continue even in this tough time we face.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Nightmare
I don't think I'll ever forget March 23, 2011. My wife of 8 years, my soul-mate and best friend stood quietly in the kitchen, face in hands, alone and silently crying. She didn't have to say a word. The doctor visit didn't go as planned and bad news would soon be shared. A lump discovered only weeks earlier was preliminarily diagnosed as breast cancer. My heart sank in a swamp of fear. Whenever the "C" word is uttered in your house, or to someone you know, you can't help but fear for the worst, even when a formal diagnosis has not yet been placed at your feet.
The doctors said that the imaging didn't look good and conducted a biopsy right there on the spot without her having any support in the waiting room. She then had to drive herself, most likely terrified and still in shock. Her mother, whom I love dearly, is an 8+ year survivor herself. I'm sure there was a lot of hugging and support when she stopped by to see her mom as she is one of the strongest and inspirational women I know.
The last six days have been rough. Yesterday the biopsy results came back atypical meaning something is going on but they didn't have enough sampling from the biopsy for testing. At least that is my understanding. We are at, what i believe is, the best hospital in the region for cancer treatment- UT Knoxville Cancer Center. Her doctor has treated several people I know, and I trust this team of specialists and surgeons with my life and am therefore comfortable with my wife in their care. God has blessed them with healing and that is all I can ask for. He will work His miracles through their hands.
Over the past years, this blog has been mostly about the funny things which my daughters do on a daily basis. That will still be the case because they are a source of strength for me and my wife and are just hysterical in what they do, however, I think I'm going to paint the Dude Room pink in the coming days and maybe even make a sub-blog of my experiences and feelings as a husband of someone who is traveling down the same road. When I make an entry, I'll post the link on FaceBook. Husbands have a need to fix things and in this case, I can't fix it and it's causing a lot of pain on my own part. I know other men are going through this with their wives. Perhaps it will be my own emotional healing and help other husbands who have to walk a similar path one day.
Thank you for reading and your support.
The doctors said that the imaging didn't look good and conducted a biopsy right there on the spot without her having any support in the waiting room. She then had to drive herself, most likely terrified and still in shock. Her mother, whom I love dearly, is an 8+ year survivor herself. I'm sure there was a lot of hugging and support when she stopped by to see her mom as she is one of the strongest and inspirational women I know.
The last six days have been rough. Yesterday the biopsy results came back atypical meaning something is going on but they didn't have enough sampling from the biopsy for testing. At least that is my understanding. We are at, what i believe is, the best hospital in the region for cancer treatment- UT Knoxville Cancer Center. Her doctor has treated several people I know, and I trust this team of specialists and surgeons with my life and am therefore comfortable with my wife in their care. God has blessed them with healing and that is all I can ask for. He will work His miracles through their hands.
Over the past years, this blog has been mostly about the funny things which my daughters do on a daily basis. That will still be the case because they are a source of strength for me and my wife and are just hysterical in what they do, however, I think I'm going to paint the Dude Room pink in the coming days and maybe even make a sub-blog of my experiences and feelings as a husband of someone who is traveling down the same road. When I make an entry, I'll post the link on FaceBook. Husbands have a need to fix things and in this case, I can't fix it and it's causing a lot of pain on my own part. I know other men are going through this with their wives. Perhaps it will be my own emotional healing and help other husbands who have to walk a similar path one day.
Thank you for reading and your support.
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