2014 has been an incredible year for the Glenz Family. We've witnessed the power of prayer and Dad's unbelievable determination to BTHO Brain Cancer, and we welcomed a little boy to our family- Luke James Lechler.
Let's start with our new little one, which means a new title for me- AUNT! Luke James Lechler was due on 1/10/2015, although he didn't want any of us to wait to meet him, so on 12/22/2014, we received a wonderful early Christmas gift. Our hearts are so full for this little boy! He was 5 lbs, 12 ounces and 19 1/2 inches long- perfect! Mom, Dad and baby are all home and doing great!
And Dad. I can't even begin to describe all of the emotions we've experienced this past year. We've had days filled with laughter and praise, and also days filled with sadness and fear. Our journey has been so far from easy, although the ride has been pretty darn incredible. As 2014 turned out to be one of the most difficult years for myself and my family, I can't help but look back and think of it as one of the best years of my life.
Through the pain and tears, I've learned a lot about myself, my family and our friends. I've learned that throughout the bad times, I've managed to find the good- I've learned that I'm stronger than I ever imagined I would have to be- and I've learned that sometimes you need a little bit of coffee and a whole lotta Jesus to get through some days. And my family, words can't even begin to describe how proud I am of my family, especially Mom and Dad. They have stood by one another throughout it all, and they continue to lean on one another for love and support. And finally, our friends. Friends who have brought us meals when Dad was going through treatment, friends who have supported us during our efforts to bring awareness and funding to brain cancer research, and friends who have listened in moments when we just needed to talk. I thank you all for helping us battle through this last year.
And so, I look forward towards 2015 and wonder what amazing things God has in store for my life, along with my family's life. We continue with treatments and MRIs, and we continue to find the blessings in each day. We've learned how to relate to so many others battling cancer, and we've learned what an amazing support system we have in others who know our fight.
We never know what the future holds, but I'm so blessed I've been able to follow this journey surrounded by so many people who love and care for me, along with my family.
Dad had another MRI Monday, and Tuesday we received the wonderful news that the MRI was stable! There have been no significant changes to the MRI, and we are thrilled! Another round of chemo started this week, and we continue to pray for the treatments to continue working. Please keep praying, as we keep fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Wishing everyone a blessed 2015!
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Enjoying The Rain. Dad Update 12/17/2014
The scripture says, "Rain falls on the just AND the unjust." Even when you have faith, you'll still have difficulties, but when the storms come, you will not be defeated.
The rain has fallen hard on our lives these last 14 months. Much harder than I ever imaged it would fall, although we've learned how to weather the storm, we've learned to not be defeated, and we've learned to enjoy the rain.
This weekend I completed my first half-marathon.
I ran a total of 13.1 miles in 2 hours and 30 minutes. Around mile 11, I realized that I was truly crazy.
But, I was running with a purpose. That morning I made sure to wear my "THINK GREY" shirt and a hot pink head band, all to honor a few people in my life who are fighting to BTHO Cancer. And as my legs started to hurt, and my mind was telling me that I needed to stop, I kept focusing on these individuals and continued to grab my two bracelets- one that read 'No One Fights Alone' and the other that read 'Running For Lar'. It reminded me that as I was fighting to BTHO 13.1 miles, as many others were fighting to BTHO Cancer- and that gave me the strength and determination to finish the run.
I ended the weekend on an unbelievable high, as I was so incredibly proud of myself for setting a goal and completing my first half-marathon. And the good news and smiles continued, as Dad had another great appointment with his Oncologist, Dr. Fleener, yesterday.
We scheduled our next treatment and MRI, which will take place after Christmas and decided to really focus on the Christmas holiday surrounded by friends and family, and not focus on the upcoming scan results. We decided that we would instead, enjoy the our time in the rain.
We also had the chance yesterday to give something back to the Cancer Clinic, to all the nurses and staff who have answered our numerous phone calls about Dad's treatment, who have helped me in filing appeals and fighting insurance claims, and who have comforted us during our treatment sessions. I remember walking back to the chemo center for the first time after Dad's tumor showed progression, and I was in tears. And then I remember one of the nurses coming up to me, giving me a hug and telling me that they were going to take great care of my Dad. It didn't make the tears completely stop, but it gave me comfort in knowing someone truly cared about my Dad and was going to help take care of him. We aren't a number at the Cancer Clinic, we are The Glenz Family, and for that I am so incredibly thankful.
We handed out Christmas wine glasses to each person at the Cancer Clinic, and we received so many hugs and smiles in return. It was an amazing feeling.
As we finished up the last decorations in the house, and wrapped up the remaining gifts for loved ones, we can't help but look back at this last year and give thanks for the rain.
Because of the rain we appreciate the holiday season more than we could have ever imagined. Because of the rain we appreciate one another more than we could have ever imagined. And because of the rain, we've learned to find the good in the storm, and we've learned to dance throughout it all.
Wishing you all a wonderful Christmas, and asking for continued prayers as we fight to BTHO Brain Cancer!
The rain has fallen hard on our lives these last 14 months. Much harder than I ever imaged it would fall, although we've learned how to weather the storm, we've learned to not be defeated, and we've learned to enjoy the rain.
This weekend I completed my first half-marathon.
I ran a total of 13.1 miles in 2 hours and 30 minutes. Around mile 11, I realized that I was truly crazy.
But, I was running with a purpose. That morning I made sure to wear my "THINK GREY" shirt and a hot pink head band, all to honor a few people in my life who are fighting to BTHO Cancer. And as my legs started to hurt, and my mind was telling me that I needed to stop, I kept focusing on these individuals and continued to grab my two bracelets- one that read 'No One Fights Alone' and the other that read 'Running For Lar'. It reminded me that as I was fighting to BTHO 13.1 miles, as many others were fighting to BTHO Cancer- and that gave me the strength and determination to finish the run.
I ended the weekend on an unbelievable high, as I was so incredibly proud of myself for setting a goal and completing my first half-marathon. And the good news and smiles continued, as Dad had another great appointment with his Oncologist, Dr. Fleener, yesterday.
We scheduled our next treatment and MRI, which will take place after Christmas and decided to really focus on the Christmas holiday surrounded by friends and family, and not focus on the upcoming scan results. We decided that we would instead, enjoy the our time in the rain.
We also had the chance yesterday to give something back to the Cancer Clinic, to all the nurses and staff who have answered our numerous phone calls about Dad's treatment, who have helped me in filing appeals and fighting insurance claims, and who have comforted us during our treatment sessions. I remember walking back to the chemo center for the first time after Dad's tumor showed progression, and I was in tears. And then I remember one of the nurses coming up to me, giving me a hug and telling me that they were going to take great care of my Dad. It didn't make the tears completely stop, but it gave me comfort in knowing someone truly cared about my Dad and was going to help take care of him. We aren't a number at the Cancer Clinic, we are The Glenz Family, and for that I am so incredibly thankful.
We handed out Christmas wine glasses to each person at the Cancer Clinic, and we received so many hugs and smiles in return. It was an amazing feeling.
As we finished up the last decorations in the house, and wrapped up the remaining gifts for loved ones, we can't help but look back at this last year and give thanks for the rain.
Because of the rain we appreciate the holiday season more than we could have ever imagined. Because of the rain we appreciate one another more than we could have ever imagined. And because of the rain, we've learned to find the good in the storm, and we've learned to dance throughout it all.
Wishing you all a wonderful Christmas, and asking for continued prayers as we fight to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Monday, December 8, 2014
"Scanxiety". Dad Update 12/8/2014
Scanxiety.
Our next scan is approaching more quickly than I would like, and as often as I tell myself to not live from one MRI to the next, the anxiety associated with any type of scan in the cancer world is always terrifying.
You go through so many emotions leading up to the scan, as each scan can bring a huge amount of relief, or a huge amount of fear. I have a verse taped on my computer screen at work: "They do not fear bad news, they confidently TRUST the Lord to care for them." (Psalm 112:7). And yes, I confidently TRUST- but I don't think anyone who is waiting for the results of a MRI/PET/CAT scan can say that this trust completely takes away all of the fear and anxiety. The fear and anxiety is still there, and you attempt to cope with it as best as you possibly can, and that's all you can do. You say a prayer, hope for the best and know that no matter what the results show, you've got a pretty amazing God leading you down this path. I try to remind myself that fear can keep us up all night, but Faith makes one great pillow!
12/5/2014 marked 14 months in our journey against brain cancer. 14 months marks the median survival rate for Glioblastoma patients, which is a number that I am fighting so hard to change, and a number I'm praying each day that Dad surpasses.
Last week was a tough week for Dad, as chemo week is always a little difficult. The side effects of the treatment make him so incredibly tired and he fights each day for strength to do "normal" things around the house. The week of chemo is not only difficult on Dad, but also on Mom. I sometimes think we forget about the caregivers for those going through cancer, the toll it can take on them mentally and physically. Sometimes we forget that caregivers see it all, we sit in treatment centers- surrounded by others in the same battle we face every day-, we see the side effects of the treatments, and we see the statistics of the disease we battle. Some days are just downright difficult for caregivers, and sometimes I'm not sure that others 100% understand that.
The things most people complain about, the struggles most people have, I promise all those in the Cancer Clinic would be more than happy to take on, instead of fighting for their lives. And as much as I wish each and every time I step foot in the Cancer Clinic that I wasn't going there, that our lives didn't revolve around Avastin and Temodar (chemo) treatments and the upcoming MRIs, I also remind myself that things could be worse. I remind myself that there is always, ALWAYS, something to be thankful for.
Dad has continued to fight since day 1, and I've seen and experienced things in my life that I would never wish upon anyone, but I've learned so much about myself, my strength, and my faith these last 14 months. I've learned to see the positive in our situation, I've learned that I can relate to so many others in their battles against cancer, and I've learned that I'm much stronger than I ever thought I would have to be.
The 14 month mark means so much to me, as I have never wanted Dad to be part of THAT statistic, instead part of the long term survivors statistic and part of the HOPE for a cure. I want Dad to be that percent that shocks the doctors and research, I want Dad to prove that he can and will beat this disease.
"Part of winning the battle against cancer is hope, faith, determination, strength and keeping positive. The other part of winning the battle is a great medical team on your side. I learned early on that stats are just numbers and I'm more than a number. I'm a strong human being with inner strength and an iron-clad determination to fight to win. Stats don't tell you about the human behind the fighter who possesses the will and strength to fight, win and overcome."
Continue your thoughts and prayers for Dad, and all those fighting against cancer- thoughts and prayers for better days ahead and thoughts and prayers for great scan results! The "scanxiety" will never completely go away, but I hope all those fighting against the fear and anxiety can remember that there's a little something comforting about a billion stars held steady by a God who knows what he is doing.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Our next scan is approaching more quickly than I would like, and as often as I tell myself to not live from one MRI to the next, the anxiety associated with any type of scan in the cancer world is always terrifying.
You go through so many emotions leading up to the scan, as each scan can bring a huge amount of relief, or a huge amount of fear. I have a verse taped on my computer screen at work: "They do not fear bad news, they confidently TRUST the Lord to care for them." (Psalm 112:7). And yes, I confidently TRUST- but I don't think anyone who is waiting for the results of a MRI/PET/CAT scan can say that this trust completely takes away all of the fear and anxiety. The fear and anxiety is still there, and you attempt to cope with it as best as you possibly can, and that's all you can do. You say a prayer, hope for the best and know that no matter what the results show, you've got a pretty amazing God leading you down this path. I try to remind myself that fear can keep us up all night, but Faith makes one great pillow!
12/5/2014 marked 14 months in our journey against brain cancer. 14 months marks the median survival rate for Glioblastoma patients, which is a number that I am fighting so hard to change, and a number I'm praying each day that Dad surpasses.
Last week was a tough week for Dad, as chemo week is always a little difficult. The side effects of the treatment make him so incredibly tired and he fights each day for strength to do "normal" things around the house. The week of chemo is not only difficult on Dad, but also on Mom. I sometimes think we forget about the caregivers for those going through cancer, the toll it can take on them mentally and physically. Sometimes we forget that caregivers see it all, we sit in treatment centers- surrounded by others in the same battle we face every day-, we see the side effects of the treatments, and we see the statistics of the disease we battle. Some days are just downright difficult for caregivers, and sometimes I'm not sure that others 100% understand that.
The things most people complain about, the struggles most people have, I promise all those in the Cancer Clinic would be more than happy to take on, instead of fighting for their lives. And as much as I wish each and every time I step foot in the Cancer Clinic that I wasn't going there, that our lives didn't revolve around Avastin and Temodar (chemo) treatments and the upcoming MRIs, I also remind myself that things could be worse. I remind myself that there is always, ALWAYS, something to be thankful for.
Dad has continued to fight since day 1, and I've seen and experienced things in my life that I would never wish upon anyone, but I've learned so much about myself, my strength, and my faith these last 14 months. I've learned to see the positive in our situation, I've learned that I can relate to so many others in their battles against cancer, and I've learned that I'm much stronger than I ever thought I would have to be.
The 14 month mark means so much to me, as I have never wanted Dad to be part of THAT statistic, instead part of the long term survivors statistic and part of the HOPE for a cure. I want Dad to be that percent that shocks the doctors and research, I want Dad to prove that he can and will beat this disease.
"Part of winning the battle against cancer is hope, faith, determination, strength and keeping positive. The other part of winning the battle is a great medical team on your side. I learned early on that stats are just numbers and I'm more than a number. I'm a strong human being with inner strength and an iron-clad determination to fight to win. Stats don't tell you about the human behind the fighter who possesses the will and strength to fight, win and overcome."
Continue your thoughts and prayers for Dad, and all those fighting against cancer- thoughts and prayers for better days ahead and thoughts and prayers for great scan results! The "scanxiety" will never completely go away, but I hope all those fighting against the fear and anxiety can remember that there's a little something comforting about a billion stars held steady by a God who knows what he is doing.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Monday, December 1, 2014
Why I Run For The Rose. Update 12/1/2014
Many of you know our story. On October 5, 2013 Dad experienced a seizure in our kitchen, and soon after we learned the seizure was caused by a tumor in his left temporal lobe, a tumor that is considered one of the most aggressive forms of cancer- Glioblastoma Multiforme (GBM).
We were devastated. We were confused. And we were lost.
We questioned a lot of things- how could this happen to our family? How could this happen to our Dad? We didn't understand what a Glioblastoma diagnosis meant, we didn't understand all the terminology associated with a cancer diagnosis- but we found an organization that did, we found the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation.
The devastation and confusion seemed to fade, as we quickly realized we weren't alone in our fight. We were surrounded by a group of individuals who knew exactly what we were up against, we were surrounded by others in the brain cancer community. And for the first time, I was given hope in Dad's fight. Hope for a cure, and I was able to turn the energy I was using being devastated, confused and lost into a purpose- Brain Cancer Awareness.
Our first trip to 'Run For The Rose' seemed a bit "thrown together". We didn't know what were doing, and I sure as heck had no idea how to be an organized team captain. But with a lot of help from friends and family, we raised $10,000 and had over 50 team members supporting Dad. It was an unbelievable experience.
So here we are, our 2nd trip to 'Run For The Rose' is upon us, and I'm more excited and MUCH more prepared this time! I would love for each of you to join us that day- come experience a day that means so much to my family, and so many other families who are fighting against brain cancer.
The event is held in Houston on April 12. 2015 and is truly a family friendly event, with face painting, activities and lots of food! And...if you register TODAY you can save $5 by using the code 'CYBER5'.
Last year we helped raise $10,000, and I would love to do the same this upcoming year! So please join our team, make a donation, purchase a 'Team Lar' t-shirt, or send lots of prayers our way for a successful trip!
(If you would like to order a 'Team Lar' t-shirt, please email me at glenzwhitney@gmail.com.)
And visit our team page to help us BTHO Brain Cancer!
http://runfortherose.racepartner.com/run-for-the-rose/bthobraincancer
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Dad Update: Dad starts another round of chemotherapy today, and another Avastin treatment tomorrow. We continue to pray Dad feels well and the treatment is working to suppress any tumor growth. We look forward to another wonderful holiday season with Dad!
We were devastated. We were confused. And we were lost.
We questioned a lot of things- how could this happen to our family? How could this happen to our Dad? We didn't understand what a Glioblastoma diagnosis meant, we didn't understand all the terminology associated with a cancer diagnosis- but we found an organization that did, we found the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation.
The devastation and confusion seemed to fade, as we quickly realized we weren't alone in our fight. We were surrounded by a group of individuals who knew exactly what we were up against, we were surrounded by others in the brain cancer community. And for the first time, I was given hope in Dad's fight. Hope for a cure, and I was able to turn the energy I was using being devastated, confused and lost into a purpose- Brain Cancer Awareness.
Our first trip to 'Run For The Rose' seemed a bit "thrown together". We didn't know what were doing, and I sure as heck had no idea how to be an organized team captain. But with a lot of help from friends and family, we raised $10,000 and had over 50 team members supporting Dad. It was an unbelievable experience.
So here we are, our 2nd trip to 'Run For The Rose' is upon us, and I'm more excited and MUCH more prepared this time! I would love for each of you to join us that day- come experience a day that means so much to my family, and so many other families who are fighting against brain cancer.
The event is held in Houston on April 12. 2015 and is truly a family friendly event, with face painting, activities and lots of food! And...if you register TODAY you can save $5 by using the code 'CYBER5'.
Last year we helped raise $10,000, and I would love to do the same this upcoming year! So please join our team, make a donation, purchase a 'Team Lar' t-shirt, or send lots of prayers our way for a successful trip!
(If you would like to order a 'Team Lar' t-shirt, please email me at glenzwhitney@gmail.com.)
And visit our team page to help us BTHO Brain Cancer!
http://runfortherose.racepartner.com/run-for-the-rose/bthobraincancer
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Dad Update: Dad starts another round of chemotherapy today, and another Avastin treatment tomorrow. We continue to pray Dad feels well and the treatment is working to suppress any tumor growth. We look forward to another wonderful holiday season with Dad!
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Why I Run. Dad Update 11/20/2014
Recently I read an article by Today Show host Erica Hill, titled "Why I Run", a story of her family's battle against cancer.
It made me think about why I run. It made me think about what drives me to go on my long runs, what drives me to get up early and what drives me to continue to fight through the moments when I want to stop. And the answer was easy, the answer was simple: My Dad.
Erica Hill says it so perfectly:
"And so I run because I don't want anyone else to suffer like my father did... I am running because we can change the way these stories end, and I want to help make that happen."
It's exactly why I run each day. It's exactly why I sign up for runs like 'Run For The Rose', supporting the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation, and it's exactly why I share Dad's story.
Running became my escape from it all. With Dad's diagnosis, I dealt with so many side effects of stress and anxiety. I didn't sleep well, I was always tired, and I was losing weight at a rate faster than ever before. Stress was getting the best of me, and after dropping almost 20 lbs, I knew something had to be done. I knew that I had to be well, so I could help Dad get well.
Slowly, I started to use running as my escape from the stress, as my way to take my mind off of it all, and slowly- it started working. I was sleeping better, had more energy during the day and (even with exercise) was starting to get back to a healthy weight. Running helped to alleviate some of my stress, and has helped to bring awareness to a cause so near to my heart.
My long runs seem to be the most difficult for me, and those morning when I don't want to get out of bed, or at mile 5 when I just want to stop, I remember who I'm running for. I remember that I'm running for all those, like my Dad, and I'm running to help "...fight for a better ending together, one that involves a world without cancer."
Dad's last doctor's appointment went well, and the next MRI has been scheduled for after Christmas. He continues on his Avastin treatments and chemotherapy, and he continues to feel great- and for that we are so incredibly thankful!
I try to focus on our path ahead. I try to focus on our next step, not our next 15 steps. The "what if's" seem to get the best of me from time to time, but then I have my time alone- where it's just me, my running shoes and a path ahead. It's those times where I can clear my mind, remind myself how far we've come on this path, and how blessed we really are.
We plan to truly enjoy our Thanksgiving and Christmas break- another wonderful time to celebrate family, friends and faith!
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
I try to focus on our path ahead. I try to focus on our next step, not our next 15 steps. The "what if's" seem to get the best of me from time to time, but then I have my time alone- where it's just me, my running shoes and a path ahead. It's those times where I can clear my mind, remind myself how far we've come on this path, and how blessed we really are.
We plan to truly enjoy our Thanksgiving and Christmas break- another wonderful time to celebrate family, friends and faith!
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
13 Months: Dad Update 11/5/2014
Today marks 13 months since Dad's seizure. How crazy it is to think that it's all been 13 short months that our lives changed, 13 short months of renewing our faith, and 13 short months that have felt like a lifetime.
As the 5th of this month comes around, I'm reminded of that terrifying day of Dad's seizure, the time we spent in the hospital, and those weeks following Dad's surgery, those weeks that tested our faith and strength in so many ways. And even more so, the stories that have filled the news recently about Brain Cancer, those stories that have tugged on my heart in so many ways.
I follow many different blogs with others who share our fight against cancer, and after reading an entry from a wife, who's husband has the same type of cancer as Dad, I was left realizing that maybe I'm alone in these thoughts about Brittany Maynard. Maybe I'm alone in my thoughts that what Brittany Maynard did was not what I consider brave, and maybe I'm alone in my thoughts of thanking God each and every day for this path he so perfectly created for us- a path many would run far, far away from.
I feel torn. I feel as though I should be sympathizing with Brittany Maynard, in her choice to "die with dignity". I feel as though I should approve of her choice to run from the fear of death, to run from the side effects of her tumor. Brittany Maynard had the same type of cancer as my Dad, so I know all too well the side effects of the tumor and the treatment for Glioblastoma. I know all too well the devastation of hearing "terminal cancer". And I know all too well that feeling of hopelessness.
But then I realize why I'm not sympathizing with Brittany Maynard and why I'm not agreeing with the words written by the wife of the Glioblastoma patient. I read Brittany Maynard's Obituatary. Do you know that not one time does it mentions the word "faith" or "God"? I also read the blog post of the wife of the Glioblastoma patient, and not once does that blog post reference "faith" or "God". Not once.
Understand that life involves suffering. Pain is very real with a cancer diagnosis. But so is the joy involved in it all. Never underestimate the power of God's plan, that through the pain and the heartache comes true joy.
The Bible shares a story of a house built on solid rock, and one built on sand. Just because the house was built on solid rock, doesn't mean the storm no longer comes- it just means, the house is able to stand more firm. And that's exactly what our family is doing.
"Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it." Matthew 7: 24-27
Dad started another round of chemotherapy on Monday and Avastin treatment yesterday. We continue fighting along this path and Dad continues to feel well- which is such an incredible blessing! Our next MRI will be scheduled around December, and I continue to ask God for the best Christmas present we could receive: A good report.
Continue the thoughts and prayers being sent towards Dad, and continue the prayers for all those faced with the difficult battle against cancer. I pray each of those who are in this fight understand the purpose in our battle, understand that with the good days, there will be bad, but also understand that throughout it all a power much greater than anything here on Earth is with us walking hand in hand.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer.
As the 5th of this month comes around, I'm reminded of that terrifying day of Dad's seizure, the time we spent in the hospital, and those weeks following Dad's surgery, those weeks that tested our faith and strength in so many ways. And even more so, the stories that have filled the news recently about Brain Cancer, those stories that have tugged on my heart in so many ways.
I follow many different blogs with others who share our fight against cancer, and after reading an entry from a wife, who's husband has the same type of cancer as Dad, I was left realizing that maybe I'm alone in these thoughts about Brittany Maynard. Maybe I'm alone in my thoughts that what Brittany Maynard did was not what I consider brave, and maybe I'm alone in my thoughts of thanking God each and every day for this path he so perfectly created for us- a path many would run far, far away from.
I feel torn. I feel as though I should be sympathizing with Brittany Maynard, in her choice to "die with dignity". I feel as though I should approve of her choice to run from the fear of death, to run from the side effects of her tumor. Brittany Maynard had the same type of cancer as my Dad, so I know all too well the side effects of the tumor and the treatment for Glioblastoma. I know all too well the devastation of hearing "terminal cancer". And I know all too well that feeling of hopelessness.
But then I realize why I'm not sympathizing with Brittany Maynard and why I'm not agreeing with the words written by the wife of the Glioblastoma patient. I read Brittany Maynard's Obituatary. Do you know that not one time does it mentions the word "faith" or "God"? I also read the blog post of the wife of the Glioblastoma patient, and not once does that blog post reference "faith" or "God". Not once.
Understand that life involves suffering. Pain is very real with a cancer diagnosis. But so is the joy involved in it all. Never underestimate the power of God's plan, that through the pain and the heartache comes true joy.
The Bible shares a story of a house built on solid rock, and one built on sand. Just because the house was built on solid rock, doesn't mean the storm no longer comes- it just means, the house is able to stand more firm. And that's exactly what our family is doing.
"Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it." Matthew 7: 24-27
Dad started another round of chemotherapy on Monday and Avastin treatment yesterday. We continue fighting along this path and Dad continues to feel well- which is such an incredible blessing! Our next MRI will be scheduled around December, and I continue to ask God for the best Christmas present we could receive: A good report.
Continue the thoughts and prayers being sent towards Dad, and continue the prayers for all those faced with the difficult battle against cancer. I pray each of those who are in this fight understand the purpose in our battle, understand that with the good days, there will be bad, but also understand that throughout it all a power much greater than anything here on Earth is with us walking hand in hand.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer.
Thursday, October 23, 2014
"He Can. He Will. And even if He doesn't." Dad Update 10/23/2014
I find myself sending out emails to friends and co-workers titled "Inspiration Tuesday" or "Inspiration Wednesday". Really, there is no specific "Inspiration" day, as any time I find a story that I feel has tugged at my heart, I immediately send it out for inspiration to others. Some days, my need for inspiration is greater than others, and it's amazing how these days where I feel I need that inspiration and guidance to remind me that our path is perfectly created for us, right then and there I find my inspiration.
A few months ago I was introduce to Matt Chandler, a pastor in the Dallas area, who was diagnosed with brain cancer on Thanksgiving Day a few years ago. I read his story, felt truly inspired and then, for some reason, continued on without sharing his story and his faith. But then the other day Mom asked, "Have you heard about that pastor in Dallas who has brain cancer?" And right then I was reminded of Matt's story, and right then I knew I needed to share how he's inspired me.
I encourage each of you to watch this short video of an interview he had in 2010: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EvRCXSPqhN4.
Matt Chandler talks about a story in the Old Testament, the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, where they say "He Can, He Will, And even if He doesn't." Matt's perspective is so incredibly perfect, he says that he believes God can heal him, he believes God will heal him, and EVEN if He doesn't, he believes that "If I'm here, let's work. But if I go home, that's even better."
He Can. He Will. And even if He doesn't.
What an incredibly powerful message! Dad's last trip to the Cancer Clinic went well, as his doctor is extremely pleased with his progress and is continuing him with chemotherapy and Avastin treatment. The visit was normal, the visit didn't include a BIG MRI result or any news that the doctor felt the tumor had progressed due to any physical signs, but for some reason this time felt a bit different for me. I can honestly say it never gets easier going to the Cancer Clinic, you never become numb to the realization that your loved one has cancer, and you never become numb to hearing someone say this was their first trip, that they recently found out they too had cancer.
For those who are getting treatment for the first time, both young and old, male and female, and representing every type of cancer, I want to embrace them and pray with them. I want to tell them it will all be 'ok'. I want to share with them that the darkness and pain of a cancer diagnosis will slowly fade and be filled with light and joy, as weird as that may sound. And maybe that's yet another gift Dad's cancer has given me, it's given me the ability to share this light and joy in my blog with others who may be faced with a cancer diagnosis.
I remember the first week of Dad's diagnosis, oh what a whirlwind it was! You're attempting to process the word "cancer" and what it means to your loved one and to you. You're attempting to schedule appointments with numerous doctors and you're attempting to keep it all together. You're also attempting to figure out how to share your new diagnosis. Are you open? Are you private? Do you want everyone to know the details? Will people understand or will they shy away and be fearful to say anything?
Oh the questions you ask yourself and the moments where you feel like it literally is all falling apart! These moments, as dark and painful as they may seem, now have created such light and joy in our lives. We are better because of Dad's fight.
Dad continues to feel well, and each day forward is such an unbelievable gift. I have to remind myself that if God's plan is to allow Dad to BEAT this cancer, then what a wonderful plan He has for us, and if that's not God's plan, if God's plan involves hurt, tears and pain, then what a wonderful plan He has for us!
I believe God can heal my Dad, I believe God will heal my Dad, but even if he doesn't, I will praise him throughout it all. Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
A few months ago I was introduce to Matt Chandler, a pastor in the Dallas area, who was diagnosed with brain cancer on Thanksgiving Day a few years ago. I read his story, felt truly inspired and then, for some reason, continued on without sharing his story and his faith. But then the other day Mom asked, "Have you heard about that pastor in Dallas who has brain cancer?" And right then I was reminded of Matt's story, and right then I knew I needed to share how he's inspired me.
I encourage each of you to watch this short video of an interview he had in 2010: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EvRCXSPqhN4.
Matt Chandler talks about a story in the Old Testament, the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, where they say "He Can, He Will, And even if He doesn't." Matt's perspective is so incredibly perfect, he says that he believes God can heal him, he believes God will heal him, and EVEN if He doesn't, he believes that "If I'm here, let's work. But if I go home, that's even better."
He Can. He Will. And even if He doesn't.
What an incredibly powerful message! Dad's last trip to the Cancer Clinic went well, as his doctor is extremely pleased with his progress and is continuing him with chemotherapy and Avastin treatment. The visit was normal, the visit didn't include a BIG MRI result or any news that the doctor felt the tumor had progressed due to any physical signs, but for some reason this time felt a bit different for me. I can honestly say it never gets easier going to the Cancer Clinic, you never become numb to the realization that your loved one has cancer, and you never become numb to hearing someone say this was their first trip, that they recently found out they too had cancer.
For those who are getting treatment for the first time, both young and old, male and female, and representing every type of cancer, I want to embrace them and pray with them. I want to tell them it will all be 'ok'. I want to share with them that the darkness and pain of a cancer diagnosis will slowly fade and be filled with light and joy, as weird as that may sound. And maybe that's yet another gift Dad's cancer has given me, it's given me the ability to share this light and joy in my blog with others who may be faced with a cancer diagnosis.
I remember the first week of Dad's diagnosis, oh what a whirlwind it was! You're attempting to process the word "cancer" and what it means to your loved one and to you. You're attempting to schedule appointments with numerous doctors and you're attempting to keep it all together. You're also attempting to figure out how to share your new diagnosis. Are you open? Are you private? Do you want everyone to know the details? Will people understand or will they shy away and be fearful to say anything?
Oh the questions you ask yourself and the moments where you feel like it literally is all falling apart! These moments, as dark and painful as they may seem, now have created such light and joy in our lives. We are better because of Dad's fight.
Dad continues to feel well, and each day forward is such an unbelievable gift. I have to remind myself that if God's plan is to allow Dad to BEAT this cancer, then what a wonderful plan He has for us, and if that's not God's plan, if God's plan involves hurt, tears and pain, then what a wonderful plan He has for us!
I believe God can heal my Dad, I believe God will heal my Dad, but even if he doesn't, I will praise him throughout it all. Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
The Beauty In Suffering. 10/15/2014
Note: This blog post isn't one centered specifically around Dad, his treatment or further treatments ahead, instead this blog post is one that was specifically inspired by Dad. It's a blog post I wanted to share, one that I feel as though many of us can relate to- Suffering. Dad continues to do well and we are so incredibly blessed with each and every day. Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Suffering. I don't think there is a more perfect word to describe a cancer diagnosis. There is much suffering in hearing the word "cancer", there is much suffering in hearing the "life expectancy" and there is even greater suffering watching a loved one go through treatment.
This suffering has brought a true gift to my life, as I now have a much greater appreciation for life. Cancer has given me a gift. The suffering has given me a gift, as it's all lead to something wonderful- quality time.
You see, I've been able to share special moments with my Dad. And maybe these special moments are just watching his favorite tv show on a Monday night, or hearing him thank me for making dinner, or even listening to him snore while I'm trying to take a Sunday afternoon nap- But all of those moments are each uniquely special to me. I've learned to appreciate these moments. I've learned to say everything I want to say to him and tell him I love him every chance I get. Now if that isn't one of the most wonderful gifts one can receive, I'm not sure what is!
I know the life expectancy, I know the statistics- heck, I also know that something can happen to any of us tomorrow. I am faced with the realization that my Dad might not be around forever, I am faced with the realization that my Dad might not walk me down the aisle at my wedding- but I'm also faced with the realization of how precious each and every day is. I've realized the gift of cancer, that suffering has given me a gift and I will embrace that gift with all of my being.
Which is why my heart broke to hear the story of Brittany Maynard, the young lady who has decided to end her life on November 1 after being diagnosed with brain cancer (glioblastoma) earlier this year. She says she doesn't want to suffer, she says she wants to die with dignity.
But isn't that what God promises us? He promises suffering. But he also promises to bring good out of all suffering. My devotional was just perfect the other day, and exactly how my family has tried to live our lives in our suffering with cancer. I just pray that Brittany Maynard realizes this before November 1. I hope she realizes that there is such a greater power controlling it all, and sometimes you just have to let go and let God take over.
"Be prepared to suffer for Me, in My Name. All suffering has meaning in My kingdom. Pain and problems are opportunities to demonstrate your trust in Me. Bearing your circumstances bravely- even thanking Me for them- is one of the highest forms of praise. This sacrifice of thanksgiving rings golden-toned bells of Joy throughout heavenly realms. On earth also, your patient suffering sends out ripples of good tidings in ever-widening circles. When suffering strikes, remember that I am sovereign and that I can bring good out of everything. Do not try to run from pain or hide from problems. Instead, accept adversity in My Name, offering it up to Me for My purpose. Thus your suffering gains meaning and draws you closer to Me. Joy emerges from the ashes of adversity through your trust and thankfulness." James 1: 2-4; Psalm 107: 21-22
Our suffering has been great and challenging, but I also know the pain we've felt this last year in our battle against cancer, is nothing compared to the joy we will experience as we stay on this path led by faith, and not by sight.
Each and every day I read a quote by Dana Hurst, a quote that has such significant meaning in my life:
"My fight. To not let suffering win. To not let it take away the joy in my faith. To not let it affect the relationships in my life. To instead, take it for it's own and run and use it to make me better. To allow it to show me when I am weak. To embrace those weaknesses when they are near and become stronger for it."
Fighting each day to see the good in the suffering, fighting each day to see the good in the storm and reminding myself that 'life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain." And my friends, I'm dancing.
Suffering. I don't think there is a more perfect word to describe a cancer diagnosis. There is much suffering in hearing the word "cancer", there is much suffering in hearing the "life expectancy" and there is even greater suffering watching a loved one go through treatment.
This suffering has brought a true gift to my life, as I now have a much greater appreciation for life. Cancer has given me a gift. The suffering has given me a gift, as it's all lead to something wonderful- quality time.
You see, I've been able to share special moments with my Dad. And maybe these special moments are just watching his favorite tv show on a Monday night, or hearing him thank me for making dinner, or even listening to him snore while I'm trying to take a Sunday afternoon nap- But all of those moments are each uniquely special to me. I've learned to appreciate these moments. I've learned to say everything I want to say to him and tell him I love him every chance I get. Now if that isn't one of the most wonderful gifts one can receive, I'm not sure what is!
I know the life expectancy, I know the statistics- heck, I also know that something can happen to any of us tomorrow. I am faced with the realization that my Dad might not be around forever, I am faced with the realization that my Dad might not walk me down the aisle at my wedding- but I'm also faced with the realization of how precious each and every day is. I've realized the gift of cancer, that suffering has given me a gift and I will embrace that gift with all of my being.
Which is why my heart broke to hear the story of Brittany Maynard, the young lady who has decided to end her life on November 1 after being diagnosed with brain cancer (glioblastoma) earlier this year. She says she doesn't want to suffer, she says she wants to die with dignity.
But isn't that what God promises us? He promises suffering. But he also promises to bring good out of all suffering. My devotional was just perfect the other day, and exactly how my family has tried to live our lives in our suffering with cancer. I just pray that Brittany Maynard realizes this before November 1. I hope she realizes that there is such a greater power controlling it all, and sometimes you just have to let go and let God take over.
"Be prepared to suffer for Me, in My Name. All suffering has meaning in My kingdom. Pain and problems are opportunities to demonstrate your trust in Me. Bearing your circumstances bravely- even thanking Me for them- is one of the highest forms of praise. This sacrifice of thanksgiving rings golden-toned bells of Joy throughout heavenly realms. On earth also, your patient suffering sends out ripples of good tidings in ever-widening circles. When suffering strikes, remember that I am sovereign and that I can bring good out of everything. Do not try to run from pain or hide from problems. Instead, accept adversity in My Name, offering it up to Me for My purpose. Thus your suffering gains meaning and draws you closer to Me. Joy emerges from the ashes of adversity through your trust and thankfulness." James 1: 2-4; Psalm 107: 21-22
Our suffering has been great and challenging, but I also know the pain we've felt this last year in our battle against cancer, is nothing compared to the joy we will experience as we stay on this path led by faith, and not by sight.
Each and every day I read a quote by Dana Hurst, a quote that has such significant meaning in my life:
"My fight. To not let suffering win. To not let it take away the joy in my faith. To not let it affect the relationships in my life. To instead, take it for it's own and run and use it to make me better. To allow it to show me when I am weak. To embrace those weaknesses when they are near and become stronger for it."
Fighting each day to see the good in the suffering, fighting each day to see the good in the storm and reminding myself that 'life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain." And my friends, I'm dancing.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Our Week In Review 10/12/2014
This week started another round of chemo and Avastin for Dad. We were so thrilled to see that the chemo pills did not make Dad sick this time! Such a huge blessing! It looks like we've finally figured out the best time to start the anti-nausea patch.
This week I also had the utmost honor of sharing Dad's story with the Brenham Banner Press. I wasn't sure how Dad was going to react to the story, as Lar really hates for all of the attention to be on him. But, Mom assured me he would be just fine with it all.
So Wednesday night, I shared with him that the Banner wrote a story on him and his fight against brain cancer, and I also shared with him the number of views my blog has had since November 2013. I don't think he really ever has grasped the number of people keeping up with his progress and fight.
I read Dad the article in the Banner. And then, he asked me to read some of my blog. I realized that Dad knows about my blog, but he's never read any entry and I was so honored to be able to share a few entries with him.
I read my most recent post, the one sharing our one year anniversary of our fight against brain cancer. I'm not sure how I made it through it all without shedding a tear, but as I finished reading the blog, I looked up to see tears in his eyes. He thanked me, he thanked me so many times for sharing my blog, and I was more than honored to share with him just a few of my thoughts. I've never been more proud to be his daughter, I've never been more proud to share his story, and I've never been more proud to share our faith.
The outpour of love from the blog, and the article in the Banner, has just filled my heart with so much joy! Thank you all for helping Dad realize he is very much loved by so many and that so many of you are continuing to pray for him!
I share often how blessed we are, how we feel as though this path was so perfectly created by someone much greater than any power here on Earth, and that no matter what lies ahead, I know there is someone much greater already there. We continue to find joy in each and every day, we continue to find joy in our cancer fight.
When you witness first hand a stage 4 cancer diagnosis, one in which they tell you "it's not if, it's when" the tumor will return, you're forced to find inner strength and inner faith that you didn't know existed. I'm so proud to be able to share Dad's story of strength, faith and determination to beat this beast with friends and family. And most importantly, my heart is so full to know Dad is proud of my blog and what I've been sharing.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
This week I also had the utmost honor of sharing Dad's story with the Brenham Banner Press. I wasn't sure how Dad was going to react to the story, as Lar really hates for all of the attention to be on him. But, Mom assured me he would be just fine with it all.
So Wednesday night, I shared with him that the Banner wrote a story on him and his fight against brain cancer, and I also shared with him the number of views my blog has had since November 2013. I don't think he really ever has grasped the number of people keeping up with his progress and fight.
I read Dad the article in the Banner. And then, he asked me to read some of my blog. I realized that Dad knows about my blog, but he's never read any entry and I was so honored to be able to share a few entries with him.
I read my most recent post, the one sharing our one year anniversary of our fight against brain cancer. I'm not sure how I made it through it all without shedding a tear, but as I finished reading the blog, I looked up to see tears in his eyes. He thanked me, he thanked me so many times for sharing my blog, and I was more than honored to share with him just a few of my thoughts. I've never been more proud to be his daughter, I've never been more proud to share his story, and I've never been more proud to share our faith.
The outpour of love from the blog, and the article in the Banner, has just filled my heart with so much joy! Thank you all for helping Dad realize he is very much loved by so many and that so many of you are continuing to pray for him!
I share often how blessed we are, how we feel as though this path was so perfectly created by someone much greater than any power here on Earth, and that no matter what lies ahead, I know there is someone much greater already there. We continue to find joy in each and every day, we continue to find joy in our cancer fight.
When you witness first hand a stage 4 cancer diagnosis, one in which they tell you "it's not if, it's when" the tumor will return, you're forced to find inner strength and inner faith that you didn't know existed. I'm so proud to be able to share Dad's story of strength, faith and determination to beat this beast with friends and family. And most importantly, my heart is so full to know Dad is proud of my blog and what I've been sharing.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
1 Year Anniversary: 10/5/2014
"I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me."
Survival. 1 year after Dad's diagnosis and we've survived! We've not allowed Cancer, that "fire" around us, to burn any brighter than our fight within us.
Our "fire", our desire to beat this beast called cancer, is so much stronger than the fear that is that terrible 6 letter word, so much stronger than the side effects of the treatment, and so much stronger because of our faith.
Regardless if someone was diagnosed with cancer just yesterday, 3 months ago, or has been in remission for years, I think that 6 letter word all gives us that gut wrenching feeling. That feeling of defeat, despair, and fear. But what I like to remind myself about that 6 letter word, that 6 letter word brings us all closer together. How wonderful is it knowing that you're not alone in a fight against cancer, you're not alone in a battle for your life, that your fire inside will burn brighter than the fire surrounding you because of others?
Our one year anniversary of our battle against brain cancer is on Sunday, as October 5 has a completely new significance to my family. The day our lives completely changed, shifted and were re-routed onto our new path, and what a beautiful path it has been.
I imagine those of you couldn't imagine a fight against cancer as "beautiful', and there are days where I have to look so incredibly hard to find this "beauty", but believe me, it's there! The days where Dad isn't feeling well from the treatment breaks my heart, but those little moments when I hear a laugh, see a smile, or have a few seconds of "normal life" with him, help me forget those "bad days". These GREAT moments, maybe just 2 minutes, seem to trump the bad DAYS we have, and for that, our path is beautiful.
We are so blessed that God has given us 12 beautiful months on this fight against Dad's cancer, 12 months that have been filled with ups and downs, good and bad days, but all-in-all beauty. We have no idea what our next step in the fight against brain cancer will look like or even when it will happen, but what we do know is that each day with Dad is a pure gift, and that's exactly how we plan to treat each and every moment going forward.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Survival. 1 year after Dad's diagnosis and we've survived! We've not allowed Cancer, that "fire" around us, to burn any brighter than our fight within us.
Our "fire", our desire to beat this beast called cancer, is so much stronger than the fear that is that terrible 6 letter word, so much stronger than the side effects of the treatment, and so much stronger because of our faith.
Regardless if someone was diagnosed with cancer just yesterday, 3 months ago, or has been in remission for years, I think that 6 letter word all gives us that gut wrenching feeling. That feeling of defeat, despair, and fear. But what I like to remind myself about that 6 letter word, that 6 letter word brings us all closer together. How wonderful is it knowing that you're not alone in a fight against cancer, you're not alone in a battle for your life, that your fire inside will burn brighter than the fire surrounding you because of others?
Our one year anniversary of our battle against brain cancer is on Sunday, as October 5 has a completely new significance to my family. The day our lives completely changed, shifted and were re-routed onto our new path, and what a beautiful path it has been.
I imagine those of you couldn't imagine a fight against cancer as "beautiful', and there are days where I have to look so incredibly hard to find this "beauty", but believe me, it's there! The days where Dad isn't feeling well from the treatment breaks my heart, but those little moments when I hear a laugh, see a smile, or have a few seconds of "normal life" with him, help me forget those "bad days". These GREAT moments, maybe just 2 minutes, seem to trump the bad DAYS we have, and for that, our path is beautiful.
We are so blessed that God has given us 12 beautiful months on this fight against Dad's cancer, 12 months that have been filled with ups and downs, good and bad days, but all-in-all beauty. We have no idea what our next step in the fight against brain cancer will look like or even when it will happen, but what we do know is that each day with Dad is a pure gift, and that's exactly how we plan to treat each and every moment going forward.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
The MRI Results: 9/24/2014
I can't even begin to describe the anxiety, fear and pure stress I feel on the days where we find out Dad's MRI results. I'm a huge mess.
It's something you constantly think about all day, no matter how busy of a day you have, no matter how many distractions you may have, it's there, in the back of your mind. You want to hear the words, "Everything looks good!", and you so badly fear the words, "Well, it doesn't look good." Walking into the Cancer Clinic is something I do every 2 weeks, but this doesn't mean the same gut wrenching feeling doesn't come back every 2 weeks, and even more so on the days we get Dad's MRI results. You walk into a place you never imagined you would be, you walk into a place with people who all never imagined they too would be there, and each time it feels surreal.
Thankfully, Dad's MRI results were good! In March 2014, Dad's MRI results showed progression- the cancer was back...or so they thought. Now, almost 1 year post-diagnosis, Dad's MRI is stabilizing, leading the Oncologist to believe the "progression" in March, was due to the radiation treatment- something called psuedoprogression. The MRI is stable. Stable is good. Stable is GREAT!
Dad's cancer can come back at any time. Statistically, 100% of Glioblastomas recur within 6-8 months, we are reaching our 1 year mark. We are so incredibly blessed!
So now, we stay the course. We continue with the chemo, with another round starting in about 2 weeks, and we continue with the Avastin treatment- both are not known to cause any sort of problems when taken long term.
Do I think the anxiety, fear, and pure stress will ever go away when I walk into the Cancer Clinic? Probably not. I still feel sick to my stomach each time I walk into that place, but I'm reminded each time what a blessing it's all been- what a blessing it is to be surrounded by such amazing people at the Cancer Clinic.
On Monday, my devotional was absolutely fitting for my thoughts and feelings for this week ahead.
"Trust ME and Refuse to Worry." POWERFUL words.
"I am your Strength and Song. You are feeling wobbly this morning, looking at difficult times looming ahead, measuring them against your own strength. However, they are not today's tasks- or even tomorrow's. So leave them in the future and come home to the present...I can empower you to handle each task as it comes...I can give you Joy as you work alongside Me."
So today's post is one about hope, faith and pure joy! We are so hopeful that Dad will continue to not be a statistic with Brain Cancer, we are filled with faith in this path so perfectly created for us, and we celebrate the joy of each and every day we are given- as each day is a true gift.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
It's something you constantly think about all day, no matter how busy of a day you have, no matter how many distractions you may have, it's there, in the back of your mind. You want to hear the words, "Everything looks good!", and you so badly fear the words, "Well, it doesn't look good." Walking into the Cancer Clinic is something I do every 2 weeks, but this doesn't mean the same gut wrenching feeling doesn't come back every 2 weeks, and even more so on the days we get Dad's MRI results. You walk into a place you never imagined you would be, you walk into a place with people who all never imagined they too would be there, and each time it feels surreal.
Thankfully, Dad's MRI results were good! In March 2014, Dad's MRI results showed progression- the cancer was back...or so they thought. Now, almost 1 year post-diagnosis, Dad's MRI is stabilizing, leading the Oncologist to believe the "progression" in March, was due to the radiation treatment- something called psuedoprogression. The MRI is stable. Stable is good. Stable is GREAT!
Dad's cancer can come back at any time. Statistically, 100% of Glioblastomas recur within 6-8 months, we are reaching our 1 year mark. We are so incredibly blessed!
So now, we stay the course. We continue with the chemo, with another round starting in about 2 weeks, and we continue with the Avastin treatment- both are not known to cause any sort of problems when taken long term.
Do I think the anxiety, fear, and pure stress will ever go away when I walk into the Cancer Clinic? Probably not. I still feel sick to my stomach each time I walk into that place, but I'm reminded each time what a blessing it's all been- what a blessing it is to be surrounded by such amazing people at the Cancer Clinic.
On Monday, my devotional was absolutely fitting for my thoughts and feelings for this week ahead.
"Trust ME and Refuse to Worry." POWERFUL words.
"I am your Strength and Song. You are feeling wobbly this morning, looking at difficult times looming ahead, measuring them against your own strength. However, they are not today's tasks- or even tomorrow's. So leave them in the future and come home to the present...I can empower you to handle each task as it comes...I can give you Joy as you work alongside Me."
So today's post is one about hope, faith and pure joy! We are so hopeful that Dad will continue to not be a statistic with Brain Cancer, we are filled with faith in this path so perfectly created for us, and we celebrate the joy of each and every day we are given- as each day is a true gift.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Friday, September 19, 2014
The Secret Of Life: Dad Update 9/19/2014
This week marks the annual Washington County Fair in Brenham, Texas. A time of year which has always meant so much to Dad, and a time of year I look forward to all year long. This year has been a bit different, as Dad was unable to help some of the exhibitors with their animals, and was not able to serve on a fair committee. But, just because Lar couldn't do exactly what he did at this time last year, doesn't mean he hasn't been enjoying the fair right along with us! I absolutely love seeing him out and talking with old friends, it brings a huge smile to my face to see him enjoying the fair this year.
It's strange to think that just one year ago our lives seemed normal, some would even say perfect- oh how wrong we would be! How wrong we were to think that we had it all figured out, that God had blessed our family in so many ways, when really, we had just barely figured out the secret to life.
It's been 11.5 months since Dad's seizure, and in those 11.5 months we've just barely seen the amount of love that God can show us, and we've just barely seen the amount of love friends and family can show us. So what's this secret of life we've figured out?
You're stronger than you ever imaged you could be. You're more loved than you ever imaged you could be. And you're impacting others more than you ever imaged.
Strength. Webster defines strength as, "the ability to resist being moved or broken by a force." What a perfect way to describe Dad! He's resisted feeling sorry for himself, he's resisted being broken by cancer, and he's resisted the urge to be alone in this fight. People comment all the time about how strong our family has been throughout it all, that our strength is amazing. As much as I appreciate those sweet words, I have to give it all to two of the most important people in my life: God and Dad. I've seen Dad's faith shine through his fight, and it's inspired me to have this strength to get through it all, to resist being broken by a force like cancer.
To say we have felt the love since day 1 of Dad's fight would be such a huge understatement, as we have been completely and fully embraced by so many people- some life long friends, others strangers turned into friends, that have related to our story. I know for a fact our eyes have just barely been open to the HUGE amount of love being poured into our fight. This week has been such a humbling experience to have so many people ask about Dad and tell me they are praying for him. It just makes my heart so full to hear what a positive and amazing impact Dad has had on so many people throughout the years, especially at the fair- a place that holds such a special place in Dad's heart.
As Faith Hill sings in her song, "The Secret of Life":
"The secret of life, is there ain't no secret,
And you don't get your money back."
The secret to life isn't a secret. It's taking it all one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time, and embracing it all. We can't change our situation, so instead we change our attitude. There's no turning back, no giving up, and no way we will stop living.
Since day 1, Mom has told all of us that we will not wait to die, but instead continue to live. We still have normalcy in our lives, we still go out and enjoy life, we still argue, and we still make lots of mistakes along the way- but one thing continues, and that's our fight and determination to beat this!
Dad continues to feel well, and it's been really amazing to see him out enjoying life! With another MRI in less than a week, the anxiety and fear are all coming back, as we continue to hope and pray the treatments are working- we continue to hope and pray for a good MRI result.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
*Side note: Asking for a few extra prayers for a young man who was recently diagnosed with brain cancer. As hard as it's been watching Dad fight brain cancer, my heart breaks even more to hear of a child being diagnosed with this terrible disease. Send extra prayers for the parents and even more to that young man- as we all know how powerful prayer really can be!
It's strange to think that just one year ago our lives seemed normal, some would even say perfect- oh how wrong we would be! How wrong we were to think that we had it all figured out, that God had blessed our family in so many ways, when really, we had just barely figured out the secret to life.
It's been 11.5 months since Dad's seizure, and in those 11.5 months we've just barely seen the amount of love that God can show us, and we've just barely seen the amount of love friends and family can show us. So what's this secret of life we've figured out?
You're stronger than you ever imaged you could be. You're more loved than you ever imaged you could be. And you're impacting others more than you ever imaged.
Strength. Webster defines strength as, "the ability to resist being moved or broken by a force." What a perfect way to describe Dad! He's resisted feeling sorry for himself, he's resisted being broken by cancer, and he's resisted the urge to be alone in this fight. People comment all the time about how strong our family has been throughout it all, that our strength is amazing. As much as I appreciate those sweet words, I have to give it all to two of the most important people in my life: God and Dad. I've seen Dad's faith shine through his fight, and it's inspired me to have this strength to get through it all, to resist being broken by a force like cancer.
To say we have felt the love since day 1 of Dad's fight would be such a huge understatement, as we have been completely and fully embraced by so many people- some life long friends, others strangers turned into friends, that have related to our story. I know for a fact our eyes have just barely been open to the HUGE amount of love being poured into our fight. This week has been such a humbling experience to have so many people ask about Dad and tell me they are praying for him. It just makes my heart so full to hear what a positive and amazing impact Dad has had on so many people throughout the years, especially at the fair- a place that holds such a special place in Dad's heart.
As Faith Hill sings in her song, "The Secret of Life":
"The secret of life, is there ain't no secret,
And you don't get your money back."
The secret to life isn't a secret. It's taking it all one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time, and embracing it all. We can't change our situation, so instead we change our attitude. There's no turning back, no giving up, and no way we will stop living.
Since day 1, Mom has told all of us that we will not wait to die, but instead continue to live. We still have normalcy in our lives, we still go out and enjoy life, we still argue, and we still make lots of mistakes along the way- but one thing continues, and that's our fight and determination to beat this!
Dad continues to feel well, and it's been really amazing to see him out enjoying life! With another MRI in less than a week, the anxiety and fear are all coming back, as we continue to hope and pray the treatments are working- we continue to hope and pray for a good MRI result.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
*Side note: Asking for a few extra prayers for a young man who was recently diagnosed with brain cancer. As hard as it's been watching Dad fight brain cancer, my heart breaks even more to hear of a child being diagnosed with this terrible disease. Send extra prayers for the parents and even more to that young man- as we all know how powerful prayer really can be!
Monday, September 8, 2014
Team: BTHO Brain Cancer's First Trip to Brain Power 5k
Success.
That is the one word I would use to describe this weekend's run in Cedar Park, Texas. To say I encourage each of you to attend the 'Brain Power 5k' and/or the 'Run For The Rose' next year would be an understatement, I think each of you absolutely NEED to attend!
(Side Note: Run For The Rose will be Sunday, April 12, 2015!)
These runs put everything into perspective. As the survivors walked by before the run, a friend of mine looked at me and said, "Some of them are so young." And she's right. Brain Cancer does not discriminate. Brain Cancer does not just impact the old. Brain Cancer impacts us all.
As I started in on my 5k, I looked at a little kid right in front of me and I read the back of his shirt: "In Memory of My Daddy." My heart sank.
I was watching a 7 year old little boy run for his Daddy, his Daddy who was no longer here. I immediately realized that I could be running in memory of my Dad, but instead I was running in honor of him. And what an honor that was!
I also saw some familiar faces from the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation, a foundation that has gone above and beyond for my family, and for all those in the cancer community. We talked about my Dad, we talked about our frustration with Brain Cancer funding and shared a hug- a hug with someone who knows EXACTLY what my family is going through. This upcoming 'Run For The Rose' will be the 13th annual run for the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation, and in the last 12 runs, the foundation has raised over $4 million dollars towards Brain Cancer research. I talked with Dr. Marnie Rose's mother, who created the foundation, and Dr. Marnie Rose's dear friend, Sallye, who is the Executive Director of the foundation. We talked about how far the treatment options have come for brain cancer, and we also talked about how much more still needs to be done to catch up to other types of cancer treatments. These ladies are true inspirations to me. They were able to take something as terrible as brain cancer, and turn it into a foundation which is impacting so many on a daily basis. And for that, I thank them from the bottom of my heart.
I was so happy that my friend was able to see the face of brain cancer in so many types of people, a little child, a young mother/father, and a grandparent- she was able to see that brain cancer impacts so many and the impact can be so devastating. She was also able to see how the brain cancer community comes to together in such a wonderful way, she was able to see that strangers can become great friends because of brain cancer, and she was able to see that something so "small" as a 5k can make such a BIG impact.
Our fight continues. Our fight will never stop to beat brain cancer, and my fight will never stop in helping to find a cure, so that no family has to fight like my family fights each day. It's not easy, some days are difficult, frustrating and discouraging, but this last week has been one of the best weeks Dad has had since October 5, 2013. For the first time, Dad wanted to go out to his shop and refinish some furniture he started on prior to his diagnosis, and for the first time things seemed even more normal than before. As I told Mrs. Rose at the Brain Power 5k, if this is as good as it gets, if Dad's speech, strength, and attitude is as good as it gets- I'm more than ok with it all.
Another round of chemo starts soon, and we continue to pray for the chemo to continue working and for Dad to continue to feel well!
Keep praying, and we will keep fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
That is the one word I would use to describe this weekend's run in Cedar Park, Texas. To say I encourage each of you to attend the 'Brain Power 5k' and/or the 'Run For The Rose' next year would be an understatement, I think each of you absolutely NEED to attend!
(Side Note: Run For The Rose will be Sunday, April 12, 2015!)
These runs put everything into perspective. As the survivors walked by before the run, a friend of mine looked at me and said, "Some of them are so young." And she's right. Brain Cancer does not discriminate. Brain Cancer does not just impact the old. Brain Cancer impacts us all.
As I started in on my 5k, I looked at a little kid right in front of me and I read the back of his shirt: "In Memory of My Daddy." My heart sank.
I was watching a 7 year old little boy run for his Daddy, his Daddy who was no longer here. I immediately realized that I could be running in memory of my Dad, but instead I was running in honor of him. And what an honor that was!
I also saw some familiar faces from the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation, a foundation that has gone above and beyond for my family, and for all those in the cancer community. We talked about my Dad, we talked about our frustration with Brain Cancer funding and shared a hug- a hug with someone who knows EXACTLY what my family is going through. This upcoming 'Run For The Rose' will be the 13th annual run for the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation, and in the last 12 runs, the foundation has raised over $4 million dollars towards Brain Cancer research. I talked with Dr. Marnie Rose's mother, who created the foundation, and Dr. Marnie Rose's dear friend, Sallye, who is the Executive Director of the foundation. We talked about how far the treatment options have come for brain cancer, and we also talked about how much more still needs to be done to catch up to other types of cancer treatments. These ladies are true inspirations to me. They were able to take something as terrible as brain cancer, and turn it into a foundation which is impacting so many on a daily basis. And for that, I thank them from the bottom of my heart.
I was so happy that my friend was able to see the face of brain cancer in so many types of people, a little child, a young mother/father, and a grandparent- she was able to see that brain cancer impacts so many and the impact can be so devastating. She was also able to see how the brain cancer community comes to together in such a wonderful way, she was able to see that strangers can become great friends because of brain cancer, and she was able to see that something so "small" as a 5k can make such a BIG impact.
Our fight continues. Our fight will never stop to beat brain cancer, and my fight will never stop in helping to find a cure, so that no family has to fight like my family fights each day. It's not easy, some days are difficult, frustrating and discouraging, but this last week has been one of the best weeks Dad has had since October 5, 2013. For the first time, Dad wanted to go out to his shop and refinish some furniture he started on prior to his diagnosis, and for the first time things seemed even more normal than before. As I told Mrs. Rose at the Brain Power 5k, if this is as good as it gets, if Dad's speech, strength, and attitude is as good as it gets- I'm more than ok with it all.
Another round of chemo starts soon, and we continue to pray for the chemo to continue working and for Dad to continue to feel well!
Keep praying, and we will keep fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Friday, September 5, 2014
A Story I Felt That Should Be Shared...Brain Power 5k THIS Weekend!
As I prepare for another 5k this coming weekend, I also prepare mentally and emotionally for what the 5k represents- Brain Cancer Awareness. I know I will be surrounded by others fighting against brain cancer, and I know I will be asked for our story, what brought me to the run. I'm sure I'll share hugs with a stranger, who knows all too well our fight, and tears with others, as we share the devastation that is brain cancer. But I'm also sure these hugs will involve smiles, new friends and a community of people fighting for one common fight: A Cure.
Before Dad was diagnosed, I had no idea what a Brain Cancer diagnosis really meant, nor could I have imagined what a Glioblastoma (GBM) diagnosis meant either- and maybe that's a good thing. Our story has been one filled with hope, faith and love- and we continue to fight every single day to beat cancer. You really don't realize how blessed you are until you hear of others going through something more difficult, and as I read the story below I couldn't help but thank God for these last 11 months with Dad. The story below is sad, that I will not deny, and I read it all with tears streaming down my face, as I know that story could have easily been about my own Dad. But the story doesn't end with sadness or loss of hope, no, the story ends with a change of perspective and a new found view on the world. The writer ended her story by saying: "My life is not how I imagined it would be right now, but it is beautiful, I cherish it and I will do my best to make it a worthy one. My dad would have it no other way."
What a beautiful way to live.
I encourage you all to read the story below and remind yourself how precious life really is, how little moments become big moments and how blessed we all really are in this world. I also encourage you all to send lots of thoughts and prayers on Sunday, as I meet with other families fighting brain cancer, and as I run for those who fight harder than I could ever imagine each and every day. As always, keep praying, as we keep fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
#RunningForLar #RunningForReagan
Erin Boyle Dempsey Writes on her family's
experience with Brain Cancer
Before Dad was diagnosed, I had no idea what a Brain Cancer diagnosis really meant, nor could I have imagined what a Glioblastoma (GBM) diagnosis meant either- and maybe that's a good thing. Our story has been one filled with hope, faith and love- and we continue to fight every single day to beat cancer. You really don't realize how blessed you are until you hear of others going through something more difficult, and as I read the story below I couldn't help but thank God for these last 11 months with Dad. The story below is sad, that I will not deny, and I read it all with tears streaming down my face, as I know that story could have easily been about my own Dad. But the story doesn't end with sadness or loss of hope, no, the story ends with a change of perspective and a new found view on the world. The writer ended her story by saying: "My life is not how I imagined it would be right now, but it is beautiful, I cherish it and I will do my best to make it a worthy one. My dad would have it no other way."
What a beautiful way to live.
I encourage you all to read the story below and remind yourself how precious life really is, how little moments become big moments and how blessed we all really are in this world. I also encourage you all to send lots of thoughts and prayers on Sunday, as I meet with other families fighting brain cancer, and as I run for those who fight harder than I could ever imagine each and every day. As always, keep praying, as we keep fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
#RunningForLar #RunningForReagan
Erin Boyle Dempsey Writes on her family's
experience with Brain Cancer
August 17, 2014
Cancer is never a word anyone wants to hear.
Especially when that word is affecting someone that you love with all of your
heart. When you hear the word cancer and then you hear it is in your loved
one’s brain, such news can nearly knock you to the floor. I know this because
my dad was diagnosed with glioblastoma on Labor Day of last year, and had I not
been sitting in a car with my sister upon hearing the news I would have fallen
to the floor. I know I could barely breathe, barely move. I was crying and my
sister was crying and we could barely get ourselves to the right building to
see my dad and just hug him. After hearing the words “brain cancer” our world
fell apart as we knew it and because of those two words my family and I will
never be the same.
My dad, James Philip Boyle, was a healthy,
active, amazing sixty-five year old when he was diagnosed with glioblastoma.
Sixty-five years old. To me, my dad was my hero. A living angel. My best
friend. He was the life of the party and the most intellectual man I have ever
known. My dad was the love of my mom’s life as he was hers; he was the apple of
his grandchildren’s eye; he was a newsman. I spoke with my dad nearly every day
and he was always, always a voice of reason amongst the chaos. Brain cancer
took all of that away from me and from my family in less than twenty-four hours.
At the time of my dad’s diagnosis, I am being
honest when I say that I am not sure I even really knew what a “brain cancer”
diagnosis meant. I knew that my dad’s situation was dire. I had read enough
that day to know that he (and all of us) were in for the fight of our lives.
And I knew that we had very little time to prepare before we needed to take
action.
Having to make life and death decisions when you
are in complete despair is a terrible position to be in. I would never wish
that on anyone. My dad, being my dad, made the decision to immediately press
forward. It was his body, his life, his decision. We completely honored it even
though it was the beginning of a series of the worst nights of our lives.
Following the biopsy, when we had just found out that my dad’s tumor was the
worst of the worst, he suffered a terrible stroke that left him unable to
breathe on his own for nearly ten days. My dad lost his ability to speak, to move
the right side of his body, to walk, to live the life that he loved, in minutes.
To see someone you love in ICU, not being able to
breathe on their own and possibly even dying, when just hours before you were
celebrating a holiday with him, laughing with him and watching football with
him, is something that I am not sure I have ever wrapped my head around. I have
come to the conclusion that I may never truly understand it and maybe I am not
meant to. I certainly hope that nobody else has to feel this way though. It is
one of my greatest wishes and something that I will be working for in my
lifetime.
When I think about the suffering my dad
experienced after the biopsy, one of the things that comforts me is that he was
100% ready to fight with whatever he had and he was ready to do it at that
moment. He went into that surgery room as brave as anyone could ever be and he
was brilliant. I am thankful we had that night together before the surgery and
I thank God every day for the six months he was able to stay with us after the
surgery.
I am different now. We are all different now.
Losing my dad to brain cancer has moved me in directions I never thought
possible. I am always thinking about how lucky we were to have that extra time
with him. To shower him with love and to make sure from the depths of our soul
that he knew just how much we loved him and how he had impacted our lives. Not
everyone gets that time before losing a loved one, and I am keenly aware of
that fact.
I miss my dad every second. There are times when
I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me because I realize that I will
never see him again. And then I think to myself how many others must feel this
way too, and that being in this club is not one that anyone should ever have to
be in. Every time I would have to say goodbye to my dad, I would give him the
biggest bear hug and say: “Dad, I am giving you all of my energy. Take all of
it.” And I know that he heard me and understood me when I said it. Now I am
going to give all of my energy to my family, to my friends and to help in the
fight against brain cancer. My life is not how I imagined it would be right
now, but it is beautiful, I cherish it and I will do my best to make it a
worthy one. My dad would have it no other way.
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
Dad Update: Almost 11 Months Post-Diagnosis
It is absolutely crazy to think that we are 11 months post-diagnosis. 11 months! What a true gift these 11 months have been for myself, and my family. We've grown closer, found a new and improved faith in our God, and have been able to shine a light on the fight against brain cancer.
If you google Glioblastoma Multiforme you see the statistics, the average life expectancy of someone diagnosed, and you cringe. I don't want to share these statistics to make anyone feel sorry for my family fighting against this disease, but I want to share these statistics so you see how far we've come and how BLESSED we've been through it all.
-Without treatment, the average life expectancy is 4.5 months.
-With treatment, the average life expectancy is 15 months.
We've had 11 amazing months with Dad, as he has never lost his ability to know ANY of us, his sense of humor, his strength or his determination. Brain cancer is extremely underfunded and under recognized in the cancer community, which is why I think many people do not know what to expect when they talk to Dad or ask me how Dad is doing. I first want to share that it puts a huge smile on my face when someone asks about Dad, so please continue to ask, continue to pray and continue to think of him daily!
Let me share what cancer has done to Dad:
-Cancer has taken away some of Dad's vocabulary. This is EXTREMELY frustrating to Dad, as he knows what word he wants to say, but his ability to say that word is difficult for him (at times).
-Cancer has taken away some of his strength. I'm not sure if it's the cancer or the treatment, but Dad gets tired much more easily now, although each day I see him regaining his strength more and more.
-Cancer has taken away his ability to work. Work was such a huge part of Dad's life and his identity, and each day we are working towards understanding and accepting our "new normal."
So sure, cancer has done some things that I don't appreciate, I don't care for, and to be honest, I hate. But let me share what cancer has not done to Dad:
-Cancer has not taken away his faith. In fact, cancer has given him even more strength in his faith and his ability to trust in a much higher power.
-Cancer has not taken away his ability to recognize his girls. He knows my name, my mom's name, and my sister's names. He has always been able to recognize us, and for that I am so incredibly grateful.
-Cancer has not taken away his hair. You would think a man wouldn't be too concerned about his hair, although Dad was so happy that his hair remained after his radiation treatment.
-Cancer has not taken away his sense of humor.
-Cancer has not brought our family down. I quote Dana Hurst, another cancer-caregiver, all the time, and her quote is just perfect: "My fight. To not let suffering win! To not let it take away the joy in my faith. To not let it affect the relationships in my life. To instead, take it for its own run and use it to make me better. To allow it to show me when I am weak. To embrace those weaknesses when they are near and become stronger for it."
Dad continues with his treatment, with another MRI coming in our future right after the Washington County Fair- which was always something Dad took such great pride in being part of. But we continue to take it all one day at a time, one treatment at a time, and one MRI at a time. We continue to pray the MRI shows no additional growth, and we continue to pray that Dad's time with us is filled with faith, love and strength.
Continue to pray, as we continue our fight to BTHO Brain Cancer!
If you google Glioblastoma Multiforme you see the statistics, the average life expectancy of someone diagnosed, and you cringe. I don't want to share these statistics to make anyone feel sorry for my family fighting against this disease, but I want to share these statistics so you see how far we've come and how BLESSED we've been through it all.
-Without treatment, the average life expectancy is 4.5 months.
-With treatment, the average life expectancy is 15 months.
We've had 11 amazing months with Dad, as he has never lost his ability to know ANY of us, his sense of humor, his strength or his determination. Brain cancer is extremely underfunded and under recognized in the cancer community, which is why I think many people do not know what to expect when they talk to Dad or ask me how Dad is doing. I first want to share that it puts a huge smile on my face when someone asks about Dad, so please continue to ask, continue to pray and continue to think of him daily!
Let me share what cancer has done to Dad:
-Cancer has taken away some of Dad's vocabulary. This is EXTREMELY frustrating to Dad, as he knows what word he wants to say, but his ability to say that word is difficult for him (at times).
-Cancer has taken away some of his strength. I'm not sure if it's the cancer or the treatment, but Dad gets tired much more easily now, although each day I see him regaining his strength more and more.
-Cancer has taken away his ability to work. Work was such a huge part of Dad's life and his identity, and each day we are working towards understanding and accepting our "new normal."
So sure, cancer has done some things that I don't appreciate, I don't care for, and to be honest, I hate. But let me share what cancer has not done to Dad:
-Cancer has not taken away his faith. In fact, cancer has given him even more strength in his faith and his ability to trust in a much higher power.
-Cancer has not taken away his ability to recognize his girls. He knows my name, my mom's name, and my sister's names. He has always been able to recognize us, and for that I am so incredibly grateful.
-Cancer has not taken away his hair. You would think a man wouldn't be too concerned about his hair, although Dad was so happy that his hair remained after his radiation treatment.
-Cancer has not taken away his sense of humor.
-Cancer has not brought our family down. I quote Dana Hurst, another cancer-caregiver, all the time, and her quote is just perfect: "My fight. To not let suffering win! To not let it take away the joy in my faith. To not let it affect the relationships in my life. To instead, take it for its own run and use it to make me better. To allow it to show me when I am weak. To embrace those weaknesses when they are near and become stronger for it."
Dad continues with his treatment, with another MRI coming in our future right after the Washington County Fair- which was always something Dad took such great pride in being part of. But we continue to take it all one day at a time, one treatment at a time, and one MRI at a time. We continue to pray the MRI shows no additional growth, and we continue to pray that Dad's time with us is filled with faith, love and strength.
Continue to pray, as we continue our fight to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Monday, August 18, 2014
A True Celebration: Dad Update 8/18/2014
I'm not sure what words I could use to describe this past weekend for the Glenz family. I do know that this weekend once again reminded me how blessed we are with such an amazing support system of friends and family, how blessed we are for each and every day we have with one another, and how blessed we are for all the love poured out to us.
First, Dad has another appointment with his Oncologist, Dr. Fleener, last Thursday. She likes to meet with him once a month to see how he is feeling and see first hand if she notices any signs of tumor progression. She was more than thrilled with how well Dad is feeling and doing- and it was just truly wonderful to hear her say that Dad was doing so good! Sometimes I think Dad needs to hear it from someone else besides Mom and his girls to really believe that he is doing so well. Dr. Fleener did wish his speech was improving a bit more, although she also knows that radiation and the removal of the tumor have caused some permanent damage. We are so blessed that speech is the only side effect of the surgery and radiation, as some brain cancer patients have to learn how to talk, walk, and do every day things after treatment. We are so incredibly lucky.
So Dad is feeling great and continues to take it all one day at a time! The treatment plan continues with chemotherapy and Avastin treatment, with our next MRI scheduled in about a month. Continue to pray the chemotherapy and Avastin are working to stop any tumor growth, and continue to pray Dad maintains his strength throughout it all.
With the family on a little bit of a high after Dad's appointment Thursday, we all found out Friday the gender of Genna and Chad's little one- it looks like Lar will be getting his boy after all! We are so blessed and thrilled to be welcoming a precious boy, Luke James Lechler, to our family in January. That little one is already so loved and, as he's the first grandchild on BOTH sides, you know he will be spoiled!
If throwing a little "Gender Reveal" for Baby Lechler wasn't enough this weekend, we also decided to throw Dad a surprise 60th Birthday Party- and what a surprise it was! His reaction was priceless and he hasn't stopped talking about the party all weekend. There were so many friends and family that came out to help celebrate such a wonderful occasion, and I wish I would have had a chance to talk with everyone who was there to thank them for showing us so much love- but hopefully each of you who attended know how much the Glenz family appreciated you coming. So, Happy Birthday Lar- Here's to many more birthdays!
So it's Monday, and after a weekend filled with parties, love, and celebration of so many wonderful things, I can't help but look at my life and think of how truly blessed I am. Thank you all for continuing to share this journey with us- through the good and the bad, the happy and the sad, and, this weekend, the rainbow after the storm.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Friday, July 25, 2014
Continuing To Be Inspired. 7/25/2014
"Pray until your situation changes. Miracles happen every day, so never stop believing. God can change things very quickly in your life."
Last night I found myself feeling a bit sorry for myself- feeling sorry for my family, our situation and Dad's diagnosis. So what did I do- I figured I could sit and continue to feel sorry for us, or pray. So I did- I prayed, a lot. I asked God to continue to help me find the good in our situation, to continue to let me believe that this path was so perfectly created for us, and to help me see how powerful prayer really is. And in almost an instant, I stopped feeling sorry for myself- how amazing is it when God puts people and things in your life *exactly* when you need it.
I follow a lot of different blogs, some about fashion, others about food, and some facing journeys very similar to ours. Last night a mother of a young girl fighting brain cancer posted on her blog, and suddenly my pain, my suffering, my feeling sorry for myself, seemed to quickly disappear. I was once again reminded how blessed we are, and I was once again reminded that there are others fighting even more difficult battles than we could ever imagine, and I was once again reminded how truly inspiring others have become for me during our fight. I read, again with tears down my face, of a mother battling fear, hope, and faith- she writes: "So what does this all mean? It means that the tumor has progressed quicker than anyone anticipated. This lighter chemo dose will be taken daily and we hope that it will slow down the progression of the tumor. It means, if you look at this with a worldview, our life can suddenly feel very hopeless and crushing. But thankfully, that is not how we view this. God is sovereign. God is able. God can heal Amanda. God can do anything he wants that brings glory to His name...Our pain is real. Our God is real. Just as we have walked the last seventeen months glorifying God, we will strive every day that comes to do the same." (http://teamwatson2013.blogspot.com/)
Wow. I was speechless and in awe of her faith. The moments I felt sorry for myself and my family were quickly overcome by my compassion for this family. If we threw all of our problems onto a pile, I think we would all quickly grab our own problems back.
Dad wasn't feeling too well this weekend- and since it's post-chemo week, I'm assuming that is what it all was from- but I'm happy to report he is feeling good again and slowly getting his energy back after a difficult few days. I've been out of town for work, and I just hate when I can't be there to help Mom and Dad with things when one of them isn't feeling too well. We continue our fight, we continue to find grace and beauty in each and every day, and we continue to remain blessed to be on this path. Dad has another round of Avastin treatment on Tuesday, and we continue to pray the treatment is helping to prevent any additional tumor growth.
Cancer sucks. And I know I've said that once, twice, probably 100 times since October 2013. It's amazing how it changes your life, your way of thinking and your ability to truly love someone. Some days I would give anything to take it all away from Dad, take away his stress, worry, pain and fear- but I have to remind myself that my life is truly perfect, that it was so perfectly created for me.
Continue your prayers and thoughts, as we continue to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Last night I found myself feeling a bit sorry for myself- feeling sorry for my family, our situation and Dad's diagnosis. So what did I do- I figured I could sit and continue to feel sorry for us, or pray. So I did- I prayed, a lot. I asked God to continue to help me find the good in our situation, to continue to let me believe that this path was so perfectly created for us, and to help me see how powerful prayer really is. And in almost an instant, I stopped feeling sorry for myself- how amazing is it when God puts people and things in your life *exactly* when you need it.
I follow a lot of different blogs, some about fashion, others about food, and some facing journeys very similar to ours. Last night a mother of a young girl fighting brain cancer posted on her blog, and suddenly my pain, my suffering, my feeling sorry for myself, seemed to quickly disappear. I was once again reminded how blessed we are, and I was once again reminded that there are others fighting even more difficult battles than we could ever imagine, and I was once again reminded how truly inspiring others have become for me during our fight. I read, again with tears down my face, of a mother battling fear, hope, and faith- she writes: "So what does this all mean? It means that the tumor has progressed quicker than anyone anticipated. This lighter chemo dose will be taken daily and we hope that it will slow down the progression of the tumor. It means, if you look at this with a worldview, our life can suddenly feel very hopeless and crushing. But thankfully, that is not how we view this. God is sovereign. God is able. God can heal Amanda. God can do anything he wants that brings glory to His name...Our pain is real. Our God is real. Just as we have walked the last seventeen months glorifying God, we will strive every day that comes to do the same." (http://teamwatson2013.blogspot.com/)
Wow. I was speechless and in awe of her faith. The moments I felt sorry for myself and my family were quickly overcome by my compassion for this family. If we threw all of our problems onto a pile, I think we would all quickly grab our own problems back.
Dad wasn't feeling too well this weekend- and since it's post-chemo week, I'm assuming that is what it all was from- but I'm happy to report he is feeling good again and slowly getting his energy back after a difficult few days. I've been out of town for work, and I just hate when I can't be there to help Mom and Dad with things when one of them isn't feeling too well. We continue our fight, we continue to find grace and beauty in each and every day, and we continue to remain blessed to be on this path. Dad has another round of Avastin treatment on Tuesday, and we continue to pray the treatment is helping to prevent any additional tumor growth.
Cancer sucks. And I know I've said that once, twice, probably 100 times since October 2013. It's amazing how it changes your life, your way of thinking and your ability to truly love someone. Some days I would give anything to take it all away from Dad, take away his stress, worry, pain and fear- but I have to remind myself that my life is truly perfect, that it was so perfectly created for me.
Continue your prayers and thoughts, as we continue to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Replace Those Thoughts Of Worry With Thoughts Of Hope, Faith and Victory: Dad Update 7/16/2014
Dad had another GREAT appointment yesterday! Dad's Oncologist (Dr. Fleener) talked with his Neurosurgeon (Dr. White) and she mentioned that Dr. White just couldn't believe how good Dad was doing- his speech, his cognitive skills...everything! I think Dad really needed to hear that, he needed to hear someone else- besides us girls and Mom- tell him how great he really is doing. It was such a positive appointment and we plan to have another MRI in 8 weeks, which would make 3 months since our last MRI- another HUGE milestone!
So what's our next steps? What do we do now?
Well, again, the type of Cancer Dad has is not good, the chances of it returning are high and the chances of it coming back aggressively...even higher. Statistics are interesting. Statistics show a lot of "Well, this should happen" or "The odds are very high", which all makes me laugh just a little bit. Try telling a Cancer patient their odds, and I would guess most of them would just laugh- laugh because I've yet to meet someone going through Cancer without Faith. Faith in a higher power, Faith in a path so perfectly created for them, and Faith that can help them through their darkest of days. Faith tells me that no matter what lies ahead, there is already someone much greater and stronger there to help me, Faith tells me to replace those thoughts of worry with thoughts of hope, faith and victory, Faith tells me that I'm much stronger than I ever realized- that Dad is much stronger than he will ever realize.
Right now, we continue our treatment- we continue with the chemotherapy (which Dad is currently taking) and the Avastin treatment (which is every 2 weeks). We continue on this treatment because the MRI's are stable, we continue on this treatment because Dad's Oncologist believes this is the right treatment (and at this point, I basically feel as though Dr. Fleener is part of our family), and we continue on this treatment because that is what Dad wants to do. We have no idea what the next scan will show in 2 months, we have no idea what the next treatment options will be, and we have no idea where this journey will take us- but what we do know is that each day is precious, and I am refusing to look at life "between MRI's". Nope, I'm going to live life, love life and appreciate each and every day- regardless if an MRI is in 2 months or tomorrow, regardless if the tumor returns or never comes back, regardless of any circumstance thrown our way.
This path is difficult, but this path has included so many truly wonderful people- people I've never met who have reached out to me about Dad, people I've become even closer to over the last 9.5 months, and people who have stood by us through the good times and the bad times over the years. It's so nice to not be alone on this journey- to be with others who have loved ones battling cancer, who can relate to the anxiety and fear of waiting for scan results, and who can relate to the pure joy of hearing good news at an appointment. Thank you all for your love, support, and prayers!
Just had to share my devotional from the week, it so perfectly fits into my life in so many ways:
"Keep walking with Me along the path I have chosen for you. Your desire to live close to Me is a delight to My heart. I could instantly grant you the spiritual riches you desire, but that is not My way for you. Together we will forge a pathway up the high mountain. The journey is arduous at times, and you are weak. Someday you will dance light-footed on the high peaks; but for now your walk is often plodding and heavy. All I require of you is to take the next step, clinging to My hand for strength and direction. Though the path is difficult and the scenery dull at the moment, there are sparkling surprises just around the bend. Stay on the path I have selected for you. It is truly the path of Life."
Staying on the path so perfectly selected for my family and seeing "sparkling surprises" around the bend. Cancer sucks, but God is good!
Continue praying and we will continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
So what's our next steps? What do we do now?
Well, again, the type of Cancer Dad has is not good, the chances of it returning are high and the chances of it coming back aggressively...even higher. Statistics are interesting. Statistics show a lot of "Well, this should happen" or "The odds are very high", which all makes me laugh just a little bit. Try telling a Cancer patient their odds, and I would guess most of them would just laugh- laugh because I've yet to meet someone going through Cancer without Faith. Faith in a higher power, Faith in a path so perfectly created for them, and Faith that can help them through their darkest of days. Faith tells me that no matter what lies ahead, there is already someone much greater and stronger there to help me, Faith tells me to replace those thoughts of worry with thoughts of hope, faith and victory, Faith tells me that I'm much stronger than I ever realized- that Dad is much stronger than he will ever realize.
Right now, we continue our treatment- we continue with the chemotherapy (which Dad is currently taking) and the Avastin treatment (which is every 2 weeks). We continue on this treatment because the MRI's are stable, we continue on this treatment because Dad's Oncologist believes this is the right treatment (and at this point, I basically feel as though Dr. Fleener is part of our family), and we continue on this treatment because that is what Dad wants to do. We have no idea what the next scan will show in 2 months, we have no idea what the next treatment options will be, and we have no idea where this journey will take us- but what we do know is that each day is precious, and I am refusing to look at life "between MRI's". Nope, I'm going to live life, love life and appreciate each and every day- regardless if an MRI is in 2 months or tomorrow, regardless if the tumor returns or never comes back, regardless of any circumstance thrown our way.
This path is difficult, but this path has included so many truly wonderful people- people I've never met who have reached out to me about Dad, people I've become even closer to over the last 9.5 months, and people who have stood by us through the good times and the bad times over the years. It's so nice to not be alone on this journey- to be with others who have loved ones battling cancer, who can relate to the anxiety and fear of waiting for scan results, and who can relate to the pure joy of hearing good news at an appointment. Thank you all for your love, support, and prayers!
Just had to share my devotional from the week, it so perfectly fits into my life in so many ways:
"Keep walking with Me along the path I have chosen for you. Your desire to live close to Me is a delight to My heart. I could instantly grant you the spiritual riches you desire, but that is not My way for you. Together we will forge a pathway up the high mountain. The journey is arduous at times, and you are weak. Someday you will dance light-footed on the high peaks; but for now your walk is often plodding and heavy. All I require of you is to take the next step, clinging to My hand for strength and direction. Though the path is difficult and the scenery dull at the moment, there are sparkling surprises just around the bend. Stay on the path I have selected for you. It is truly the path of Life."
Staying on the path so perfectly selected for my family and seeing "sparkling surprises" around the bend. Cancer sucks, but God is good!
Continue praying and we will continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Thursday, July 10, 2014
My Inspiration: 7/10/2014
These last few nights I've found myself crying as I've drifted off to sleep. It reminds me of those first weeks, well those first few months, after Dad's diagnosis, where I cried myself to sleep most nights. I don't say this wanting pity, I say this with true honesty, that although I fully trust in God's path for our family- that I truly believe God so perfectly created this path for us to travel together- that doesn't make some days any easier or the realization that my Dad has Brain Cancer any easier.
I tend to find myself leaning on others who have experienced this terrible fight against cancer, I find myself searching for others, that although faced with mountains of fear and anxiety, have reached the top of the mountain using faith, friends, and family. And I found a story that truly inspired me, a story that brings life back into perspective, and last night these tears of fear, anxiety and sadness I've had in prior nights, were replaced with tears filled with hope, love and compassion.
I came across a story on Facebook- 'Team Hurst'- http://hurstfamilyupdate.blogspot.com/. A story that is so similar to our story- a story of Brain Cancer, a story of a father fighting for his life, and a story filled with faith. I read the entire blog, with tears streaming down my face, and I was left with a smile on my face. The story didn't end in remission, but instead ended by showing the ultimate faith in God's plan. To say I was inspired by this family would be an understatement, as they helped to restore my faith in God's plan for Dad.
The father's life ended too soon, although his story included a hard fought battle, with his wife and children standing by his side. And now, the blog continues- as the mother and wife to such a courageous fighter, writes about her life- life after her loss. I'm in awe of her strength and faith, as here is just one quote from her blog that just made me put it all in perspective again:
"If I look back at all the times I questioned God and his non-perfect timing in my book, I see it was nothing but perfect. Perfect, because through the wait, the frustration, the trials, he was perfecting my trust in him. He was changing me. David and I both agree, through the trial of Cancer we became stronger for it, we loved others deeper because of it and we lived freely for it." (http://www.danahurst.com/blog/)
"If I look back at all the times I questioned God and his non-perfect timing in my book, I see it was nothing but perfect. Perfect, because through the wait, the frustration, the trials, he was perfecting my trust in him. He was changing me. David and I both agree, through the trial of Cancer we became stronger for it, we loved others deeper because of it and we lived freely for it." (http://www.danahurst.com/blog/)
So often I feel as though things are left unsaid with those who inspire us and so often we forget to thank those who have made a true difference in our lives, that being said, I felt the need to share with Dana how she inspired me and thank her for her faith and sharing her story with the world. I know it's not easy to be so incredibly open about something that is so personal, dealing with Cancer and the loss of a loved one, but I am so appreciative of people like her who do- because it helps me realize that there are others who truly understand our fight, others who know the fear and anxiety I feel. I didn't necessarily need a response or expect one, as I know she is incredibly busy with two small children, but the response I received was nothing I could have ever imagined:
"How sweet and heart felt that you took the time to read our story. What is your father's name? I would like to pray for him! I hope reading the blog you know, I felt and still feel the fear, anxiety and worry. But,as you said...I hand it to God. It is way too big for me to fight on my own. I am simply surviving:) Keep your faith strong...Praying for you Whitney...and most importantly thanking God for you walking hand in hand with him!"
If I wasn't crying before I went to sleep last night, I was without a doubt crying after I received this message. To have a complete stranger ask to pray for my Dad says so much about her faith and compassion for others, I am so blessed to have found this story and be connected to someone who's faith I admire so much.
There is no coincidence in life, as I'm truly blessed to have "stumbled" across her blog and I'm truly blessed to be able to witness her faith on a journey that is so similar to ours.
I ask for continued prayers as Dad starts another round of chemo next week, followed by another Avastin treatment. I'll never lose hope, and I'll never stop praying for a miracle- because when chances are 1 in a million, we will fight to be that 1.
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