Christmas On Our Minds

I can't begin to express my pure joy and happiness knowing Dad's radiation treatment is over. He went through 6 long weeks of radiation (total: 30 treatments) and I have never been more proud of him. I know it's been a common theme throughout my different posts- but that man's determination and attitude completely blows me away, and I just can't share that enough with people. 

I had the privilege of taking my dad to numerous radiation treatments throughout the past 6 weeks. Each one seemed very similar- walk in, wait, Dad receives his treatment, and we return home- although each experience a bit different because of each person I would meet. I recently had a friend ask me if it was depressing going to a place where everyone waiting was fighting this horrible disease. These visits weren't depressing, they were far from that- they were inspiring and comforting. 

Like I said in an earlier post- from the outside looking in our situation looks depressing, but from the inside looking out that couldn't be farther from the truth. When you are waiting for radiation treatment you are surrounded by people who really understand what you're going through. They are either caregivers or currently fighting the disease- they understand the daily struggles, they understand the good days and the bad days, they just get it. I talked to all of them, never asking for too many details (unless they wanted to share), and we spoke about their struggles- some extremely ill, others who were handling the treatment well. One lady impacted me tremendously, as she was fighting esophageal cancer. This lady was an employee at the Brenham High School while I attended, and right after she retired she got sick. Her body wasn't reacting well to the treatment and she had been extremely ill. On Friday, I couldn't help but be excited Dad was finishing that day, and she too shared the excitement with me. She too shared this excitement, even though she was extremely sick from the treatment and had 7 more days remaining. I spoke with her for a while and we shared our fears of the future, our fears of the unknown and our faith. I told her that I always tell Mom when she is having moments of fear- "Fear can keep us up all night, but faith makes one great pillow." She just smiled. 

She inspired me that day. She truly understood our struggle and we truly understood hers. It's comforting being surrounded by people that are just like you, fighting this disease that has completely changed our lives. 

So to say my weekly visits were depressing couldn't be farther from the truth- as they inspired me. Inspired me to relate to others, inspired me to share my story and reminded me that there is always someone fighting a more difficult battle. 

There are many people that understand our battle, my dad's fight, and there are many that may not truly understand but go out of their way to make life a little easier for my family. To those people, there are no words to thank you enough. Through this experience I'm reminded how truly good people are, and I'm reminded that some people just don't get it. But to those people, to those people who are making life a bit difficult for my family (i.e. upper "management" at my Mom's place of employment), I would love to yell and scream and tell you exactly how I feel- but I realize that wouldn't fix anything and it takes so much more energy to be angry. Instead, instead of wasting my time and energy on being angry, I decided I'm praying for these people. I pray that they never have to experience what we are going through as a family, and if they ever do, people will be more understanding than they are to my Mom. 

I have a board in my bathroom that I put quotes on randomly- just so Mom can see them throughout the week- it's my way of telling her it's all going to be ok. This week I selected a verse from Romans 8:18-
"What we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory He will reveal to us later." 

Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and a wonderful holiday with their family and friends.

Final Day Of Chemo!

Today marks the last day of chemotherapy and Friday marks the final radiation treatment…for right now. To say our family is excited the treatment is over would be a huge understatement- we are ecstatic!

This last week has been difficult, as we were warned by others and the doctors, that Dad would be exhausted and possibly sick. There was no need fearing this last week because I kept reminding myself that some people are sick throughout the entire treatment- and thankfully Dad has not been. I have a daily devotional that I read every morning when I get to work as I’m making my coffee (I’m truly a creature of habit) and today I wanted to fall over when I read the devotional for that day:

“When you are plagued by a persistent problem- one that goes on and on- view it as a rich opportunity. An ongoing problem is like a tutor who is always by your side. The learning possibilities are limited only by your willingness to be teachable. In faith, thank Me for your problem. Ask Me to open your eyes and your heart to all that I am accomplishing through this difficulty. Once you have become grateful for a problem, it loses its power to drag you down. On the contrary, your thankful attitude will lift up into heavenly places with Me. From this perspective, your difficultly can been seen as a slight, temporary distress that is producing for you a transcendent Glory never to cease.”

What a powerful message- thankful for the bad. The Sunday following Dad’s seizure and diagnosis of the tumor Mom, Dad and I attended church. We usually only go if Dad is feeling up to it- sometimes he just does not feel like talking to a lot of people, which I respect and understand. Although he was feeling up to it this day, and on that day our pastor didn’t know we would be attending church, but he did know of our situation. We sat down in the back and the message was unbelievable-it was all about looking at the bright side. I remember his sermon so very well, as our Pastor held up a piece of paper and talked about every situation having two sides- and we should all look at the bright side. We took that message with us that extremely difficult week in the hospital, and we needed it even more when Dad came home from the hospital.

Mom is always telling us that we need to look at the bright side of everything and reassures me daily that it will all be ok. Prior to this experience I don’t know if I could ever say I witnessed “true love”, the type of love where you would do anything for someone- but now, as I watch Mom and Dad talk, I have. Their love for one another- the sacrifices they both make is truly unbelievable. Sometimes I just sit back and listen to their conversations- some filled with laughter, some filled with tears- but each and every conversation overflowing with love for one another.

We have 3 more days of radiation treatment. 3 days! I’m not looking forward to Friday because it’s the start of my vacation from work, or because it’s finally Friday- I’m looking forward to that day because I know the moment Dad finishes radiation I’m going to see the Lar smile that I’ve missed these last few weeks. And that to me, is the best early Christmas gift any person can ask for. 

I Finally Googled 'Glioblastoma'

I've sat at my computer everyday since the diagnosis and attempted to look up 'Glioblastoma'. I've gone to Google.com and sat and stared at the blank search bar waiting for the strength and courage to look up this type of cancer- but I couldn't find the strength. I kept telling myself that there was no point in researching this, as any type of cancer has "horror" stories online. I only had the courage to look up "brain cancer"- because for some reason this topic felt safer to me than 'Glioblastoma'- a more specific and aggressive type of brain cancer.

But finally, finally on 12/5/2013 I did it....I looked up 'Glioblastoma'. Although my search contained a few more words- 'Glioblastoma Survival Stories'. I realized, I didn't want to read the statistics that make me anxious, nervous, and scared about the future- I wanted to read the stories about people JUST like my Dad. And I did, I read story after story of people (both young and old) who survived this type of cancer, and not only survived- but thrived. Every story seemed to have a common theme: Faith and Attitude. Two things that my dad, my family and my friends all seem to have right now, especially my Mom. 

My Mom is truly a remarkable person. She is always talking about the future and tells me "We aren't going to sit here and wait to die, we are going to live." She has this faith- this faith that everything is going to be alright and she reassures me of this daily. She has never asked "Why us?", she has never questioned God's plan for my Dad and our family, and she has never once been angry with the situation. To me, to be able to handle the situation the way she is handling everything- that is true faith in God. Her faith completely blows me away. I strive each day to be like her- to have this unconditional faith in the situation and in this higher power- and most days, most moments I have this faith. But there are moments where I question the situation- I question "Why MY Dad?" and in those moments I have to quote Melissa Maass (a truly unbelievable Christian, who is practically another sister to me), who told me the DAY my Dad was diagnosed, "God gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers." And I think she's right. 

I look at the future, these stories of people surviving, and I look forward to writing my Dad's story. I love sharing his story- his story of strength and determination. I keep hearing that it's not a matter of if this type of cancer will return, it's when. Well since no doctor, no person, really knows "when" this may happen, I'll choose to put my faith in another power.

Another week is done and we have 5 more radiation treatments to go! Dad has been counting them down, as these last couple of weeks have been the most difficult. He's experiencing some stomach issues and is extremely tired- but is so strong and determined. December 20th is going to be a wonderful day and I can't wait to be the one to take him to his final treatment. 

Dad Update 12/5/2013: A New Order of Bracelets

I truly believe everything happens for a reason, people are put into your life and situations happen for a reason- and families are created a certain way for a reason. It's amazing how we all play our part in the situation, each family member has something they are gifted with to add to the situation. My Mom and Dad are hands down the ROCK of our family. Dad's focus is getting better, resting and beating this! While Mom is completely focused on Dad- taking him to appointments and taking care of herself. She has been unbelievable through it all- I'm so proud of both her and Dad. 

And us girls, I always thought it was weird how different we all are, how different all of our strengths and weaknesses are- but now I see the purpose:
Genna handles ALL of the medical information (along with Aunt Joan) and attends appointments when she can. I almost fainted every time I saw Dad in ICU after his surgery- so hospitals just aren't for me. But Genna is able to understand what the doctors are talking about in regards to treatment, medicine, etc.  Meghan keeps us well fed and helps to keep Mom and Dad well rested. Mom and Dad are able to stay at her house in College Station Monday-Wednesday between appointments to eat, rest and just relax. Such a blessing having her in town. And Me....Well, I am my father's daughter. I handle all insurance, disability, billing, scheduling, etc. I'm the business side to it all. Little do these billing departments know, I audit things for a living. I'm the one downloading every claim from the insurance website and performing a one to one comparison to each bill we receive from different hospitals/doctors. Yeah, I'm THAT person. Each of us so unique, yet each of us with a desire to help and do for my Mom and Dad what we know they would be doing for us. Like I told Lar when he thanked me for everything: "Dad, I put you through a lot of crap the last 25 (almost 26) years, this is the least I can do." And I meant every word I said!

I have to say, the number of people stopping me, Facebook messaging or texting/calling me requesting a bracelet to wear for my Dad is overwhelming. So overwhelming- we've decided to order more! People keep asking what they can do, how they can help- and you all can help by doing exactly what you've been doing: praying! Life has many ways of testing a person- either by having nothing happen or having everything happen at once. And it does feel like EVERYTHING happened at once- but I can honestly say the good that has come out of this situation of "everything happening at once", far outweighs the negative. 

I wear my bracelet every day- never take it off- and I won't, not until my Dad beats this. His last blood counts came back good and we are almost done with another week of treatment. I think a lot of celebrating will be happening on December 20- Dad's last day of radiation. Until then, we take things one day at a time- for life is all too short, as none of us truly know what God has in store. So for right now, I'll take the good with the bad, and smile through it all! As I've finally come to understand that unexpected things are going to happen, and the only control I have is how I choose to handle them. I'm choosing to survive this using courage, humor and grace.

Dad Update: 12/2/2013

Thanksgiving has come and gone, and I still can't believe it's already December- which means radiation treatment will be ending soon! With the Thanksgiving holidays, we only had radiation and speech therapy a few days last week- but of course Lar made sure we did speech therapy at home. He is the strongest and most determined person I've ever met- so blessed that this man is my Dad. We spent most of Friday and Saturday putting up Christmas decorations and cleaning out the garage- and in true Lar form, he was involved in it all. Thanksgiving being spent at home, surrounded by the ones I love the most, and WAY too much food was just perfect. This year Thanksgiving had an entirely new meaning of being thankful- thankful for my family, friends and this small town I live in. 

There is something to be said about living in a small town, and sometimes I don't think you really appreciate your small town until you move away. After spending over 2 years in Austin, I couldn't be happier to be back home. Austin was never really "home" to me, as I never changed my room at my parents, much less my address. I still can't get over how things just work out, as I put in my two weeks notice at EY in Austin on Friday, October 4 and planned to move to Brenham/College Station for a job at Texas A&M- and on Saturday, October 5 Dad had a seizure. I like to tell Mom that coincidence is just God's way of remaining anonymous. But through it all this small town, this small community, has been unbelievable to my family. It completely blows my mind when people stop me and ask about my Dad and what they can do to help. When I thank people for asking about him, I truly mean it. Big cities are great, and there are lots of opportunities there- but I wouldn't trade my town for anything. I remember at 18 I told my Mom I would NEVER live in Brenham- well, I guess never say never. 

As I write these posts about Dad and his progress, I'm usually in a good place- which is why they are mainly positive and "looking at the bright side", but know that this isn't always how it is for myself or my family. There are moments where I just cry and stress about the future- the unknown. But I can honestly say the thoughts and prayers, knowing people are thinking about him helps to calm this. I'm so blessed with such a great group of friends and support system that listen to me as I cry about it all-when I know there is nothing they can say or do to make it better. I don't know how many times people have told me I'm different, that something is different. Well, it has a lot to do with moving back home, the situation with my Dad, and realizing that the day of the seizure, that was the day I made myself promise to live more from intention and less from habit.