Happy Birthday Lar! 8/18/2015

Happy 61st Birthday Lar! I've been so blessed to have a Dad that has put up with my lack of knowledge about some "common things" (Sorry Dad, still don't know how to put air in my tires and just recently learned there were two types of screwdrivers), has been part of every big decision in my life because his opinion is one that I greatly value, and has been the rock of our family throughout it all. We take today and forget about the cancer treatments and MRI's, the blood work and upcoming doctor's appointments, and instead, we take today to celebrate someone who is an amazing father, great husband, and a wonderful friend to so many. Today, I get to celebrate the best Dad in the world, the man that I've been lucky enough to have loved my entire life. So Happy Birthday to my Lar! Here's to celebrating many more birthdays with you!

And of course my devotional was just perfect for today:

"Anticipate coming face-to-face with impossibilities: situation totally beyond your ability to handle. This awareness of you inadequacy is not something you should try to evade. It is precisely where I want you- the best place to encounter Me in My Glory and Power. When you see armies of problems marching toward you, cry out to Me! Allow Me to fight for you."

These last 2 years have had so many situations that have seemed near impossible for us to handle or overcome. We are so incredibly blessed to celebrate another birthday with Dad and be able to walk hand in hand with someone who is truly fighting so many of these impossible situation for us! 

God is Good!

Chemo Week Is Upon Us. Dad Update 8/12/2015

Dad starts another round of chemotherapy this week, and after countless rounds of these dreaded pills, we are praying and hoping we've mastered managing the symptoms. 

Many ask me, "If your Dad's scans look good, then why does the chemo continue?" 

Dad's fight against brain cancer will be a lifelong battle. This isn't a type of cancer that is curable, we are fighting against terminal cancer. This isn't a type of cancer that statistics show after x number of months and/or years of no recurrence that the chances of the cancer returning are low. This isn't a type of cancer that just goes away. 

And as much as all of that kinda (for lack of a better word) sucks, it's the cards we've been dealt, and it's the path so perfectly created for us. Instead we look at the statistics that Dad has already overcome and beat. 

We look at the recurrence rates in Glioblastoma patients. 100% recurrence within 7-9 months of removal. We are 22 months post removal. 

We look at the median survival rate. 14.6 months with surgery, radiation and chemotherapy. We are 22 months post diagnosis. 

We look at Dad's seizure, large blood clot removed during surgery and brain bleed after surgery and notice very few side effects. Right side weakness. Some short term memory loss and word recognition. But that's really it. A very small scar from surgery. And little to no hair loss from surgery, chemotherapy and radiation. I can't help but put all these blessing back on a pretty amazing Neurosurgeon (Dr. White), and an even more amazing God.

When the chemotherapy stops working, or when the tumor returns, or if the chemotherapy ever gives Dad a lesser quality of life, then the chemotherapy will stop. But until then we stay as positive as possible during these difficult weeks for Dad. We try to take his mind off of things and continue on as normal as possible. 

This last week Mom and Dad took a trip to the hill country to visit my aunt and uncle, and I realized it was one of the first trips they have taken together since Dad's diagnosis. I realized that Dad's travel usually involves doctor's appointments, MRI's and treatment. It was obvious they both needed this little weekend away more than anything, and it was great to see them Sunday both so relaxed and refreshed! 

It's rather strange not going to the Cancer Clinic so often. As I remember during Dad's IV treatment of Avastin, I was there every 2 weeks for treatment and once a month for a visit with Dr. Fleener. This is all strange in a very good way!

I'm not sure what the next MRI will show, or if Dad will have any signs/symptoms of progression before our next MRI, but what I am sure of is how blessed we've been these last 22 months. How blessed we've been that Dad's surgery, blood clot, and brain bleed left him with the ability lead a normal life. How blessed we've been that Dad's been able to witness the birth of his first grandson. How blessed we've been that Dad has stayed so positive during it all, and how well he's handled all of his treatments. 

We continue to take it all one day at a time, we continue to pray the treatment is working to stop any cancer grown, and we continue to be so incredibly thankful for these last 22 months. 

Thank you all for the continued thoughts and prayers, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer. 

MRI Update. 8/3/2015

Here we are just a couple of days short of Dad's 22 month anniversary of the seizure, which lead to his brain cancer diagnosis and 22 month anniversary of hearing those words "terminal cancer". We were given a grim diagnosis and devastating statistics. I look at these statistics as a realist, knowing all too well the tumor can, and most likely will, return. I look at these statistics and pray for the best, but all too often expect the worst. 

But this last MRI, as I prayed for the best results possible, it's exactly what we received! No new changes- no indication of tumor! We are on cloud 9!

I read the MRI results out loud, as Dr. Fleener had a nurse bring in the results early to us while she was meeting with another patient so we didn't have to continue waiting. Let me remind you, I picked Accounting as my major because I wanted the least number of science classes I would have to take in college- and it was pretty clear that was the case when I read the report. I couldn't pronounce half of the words and every other word I said in more of a question form than a statement, because I had no clue what it all meant.

Genna finally, as she laughed, told me to read the conclusion part instead, so I did: "Stable postsurgical change of the left middle cranial fossa. Stable peripheral and nodular enhancement, likely representing postoperative change."

Ok, so I still have not a clue what most of those words mean, BUT I read "likely representing postoperative change", I knew that was good, I knew that meant the report did not show tumor growth, and I loved hearing the word "stable". 

It was all such a relief. And we look forward and focus on the treatment path ahead. The chemo continues, along with the blood work and MRI's- BUT another MRI is not planned for another 3-4 months. And that is HUGE!

Once we received the news I was immediately texting friends and family, as they all anxiously await MRI day and the news we will receive. And I immediately texted a dear friend who's mom is currently battling cancer. We text often, we share stories of fear and anxiety, and celebrate with one another on little (and BIG!) victories for our parents. And on Thursday, when we received the results and I immediately texted her the news, her response made me realize all too well that Dad has such a large purpose here on Earth. Much bigger and greater than I could ever imagine, and much bigger and greater than I ever realized. 

I told my friend the great news, "Dad's MRI is stable- no changes or growth! Another MRI in 3-4 months!! Almost 22 months later, such a blessing!"

And her response brought mom and I to tears, because we've always said 'Hope and Hopelessness are both options, so why not choose hope?"

My friend responded: "Oh my gosh that is such great news!!! I am so happy for your guys!!! Your dad seriously gives me hope for my mom."

Hope. Dad's fight. The good and bad days we have, heck the good and bad moments, all have this much bigger and larger purpose in life. Dad is inspiring others! Which he denies when I tell him that his faith, fight and attitude are continuously inspiring others faced with difficult battles, and his faith, fight and attitude are continuously inspiring me. But it's all so true- he's such an inspiration!

Dad's leaving this amazing footprint on this Earth. At church on Sunday, our pastor shared a sermon about looking at your obituary, and if you would like what it would say. I think back to Dad's life, his role as a father, husband, friend, co-worker and cancer fighter, and I would have to say that I'm not sure if there is a darn thing that man would change about his life. I'm so proud that I get to call him my Dad, and even more honored that I'm his daughter. 

Continue the prayers, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!