May 1 is the start of Brain Cancer Awareness Month, a month which helps recognize Dad's fight and the fight of so many others- a fight that is recognized by a ribbon and the color of Gray, a fight that I am so proud to be part of.
Brain Cancer is extremely underfunded and under recognized, something that I so badly want to change. When Dad was diagnosed I was in shock, because I honestly had never heard of someone that had Brain Cancer- but it didn't take long to find others fighting this battle, and other families who knew how difficult the battle against brain cancer can be.
I remember the day I found the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation, and I remember the day I realized that regardless of Dad's fight, we were helping to find a cure- a cure that is so badly needed. This year was our first trip to 'Run For The Rose', a 5k supporting the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation, and during our first trip we were able to donate over $10,000. It was such an overwhelming experience and I was so proud of the love and support from friends and family who made the trip and those who donated.
Gray is the color of Brain Cancer Awareness, which is why many of you see me wearing my gray bracelet daily or why I have a gray wreath hanging in my office. I want to bring awareness to brain cancer and support brain cancer research, research that has extended my Dad's life, and so many others.
There will not be a cure today, or tomorrow, but one day, one day hearing cancer will not lead to fear, anxiety and sadness- hearing cancer will instead give hope.
I'm so proud to be part of the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation, a foundation that has become so near and dear to my heart, and I'm so proud of the awareness the foundation, and Dad, has brought to brain cancer. Our fight is far from over, and the fight of so many others battling brain cancer is far from over too, which is why continued awareness and research is so badly needed.
I wear my gray proudly, and I ask that you too wear gray proudly, especially this month, to support Dad, brain cancer, and all those who are currently fighting this disease. My "Gray Day" will be every Friday, as I will proudly wear my gray, my bracelet and share a story, that although involves a terrible disease, also involves love, hope and faith. I would love to see others on 'Gray Day' supporting Dad, Brain Cancer research and others fighting cancer. Share your pictures via email, text message, Instagram or Facebook- because seeing Dad's t-shirts and bracelets from others never, ever gets old!
Help us BTHO Brain Cancer!
*To read more about the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation please visit: http://drmarnierose.org/*
Monday, April 28, 2014
Dad Update 4/28/2014
Weddings seem to be a bit bitter sweet to me now. A big part of me is so excited for my friends as they marry the man of their dreams, a big part of me is so happy to be part of such a huge event in their life, and a big part of me has an amazing time celebrating with others. But there is a little part of me, a little part of me that feels sad. It's hard for someone who's Dad is diagnosed with a type of cancer that is so aggressive, a type of cancer that (statistically) is just horrible, it's just hard to watch so many Father-Daughter moments that my other friends experience, and I fear I won't be able to. I don't want pity, I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me at weddings or for anyone to feel sorry for me (or my family) at all- it's just a constant thought for me, a constant thought that makes me realize how precious life truly is. And although I'm not sure of the future, I do know this- I've been given a gift. I've been given this gift of precious time, moments where I have appreciated the moment at that exact point in time, moments were I've been able to remember every detail because I understand the extent of how precious it truly is. I will never have to look back at my life with any regret, and that is such an amazing gift that God has given me.
I had just watched my best friend walk down the isle with her Dad, and tears streamed down my face. These tears were mixed emotions- on one hand my best friend looked absolutely beautiful and I was just so incredibly happy for her, as she deserves all the happiness in the world, and on the other hand I couldn't help but think if I would experience that moment with my Dad. I thought about Dad constantly this weekend and wondered if he was feeling well- but I always tell Mom that no news is good news, so not hearing from them must mean things were going good in Brenham. But they weren't, things were not going good in Brenham, they were going great.
Right as I sat down for dinner, across from the bride's family, a family that has also become my second family, I got a text message from Mom and my heart sank- was this bad news? And then I read the message: "Hope all is well- just have to tell you, your Dad grilled tonight and it was awesome. God is good!"
God is truly good. Dad hasn't grilled or wanted to grill since October, and Dad has always loved to grill. My heart was so full of joy after reading that text message, life was becoming a bit more normal at our house and it was so comforting.
Dad has been feeling good lately- very few headaches, his speech has been almost perfect, his memory getting better daily, and his strength is slowly coming back- we are so incredibly blessed. On Friday Dad finished a round of chemo, which means the dreaded week after chemo has started, although we all continue to pray that his headaches continue to decrease, his appetite stays strong, and his strength continues to improve daily.
We have not noticed any additional side effects of the small bleed that was noticed during his last MRI, although Dr. Fleener still wants to do a CAT scan on Tuesday, just to be sure. Dad will also be getting another round of Avastin, as we continue to pray the treatment is breaking down the tumor and stopping any growth.
Life is so precious. So many precious memories and moments that we share with those that we love. I pray every day that Dad is included in all these future memories and moments for me and my family, and I pray every day to walk by faith and not by sight.
"Come to me with empty hands and an open heart, ready to receive abundant blessings. I know the depth and breadth of your neediness. Your life-path has been difficult, draining you of your strength. Come to Me for nurture. Let Me fill you up with My Presence; I in you and you in Me. My Power flows most freely into weak ones aware of their need for Me. Faltering steps of dependence are not lack of faith; they are links to My Presence."
Trying so hard to understand God's path for me and my family, trying so hard to remind myself that there is a greater power controlling everything- far greater than any doctor or any medicine- and constantly reminding myself, and others, that although cancer sucks, God is good.
Continue praying, as we continue to BTHO Brain Cancer!
I had just watched my best friend walk down the isle with her Dad, and tears streamed down my face. These tears were mixed emotions- on one hand my best friend looked absolutely beautiful and I was just so incredibly happy for her, as she deserves all the happiness in the world, and on the other hand I couldn't help but think if I would experience that moment with my Dad. I thought about Dad constantly this weekend and wondered if he was feeling well- but I always tell Mom that no news is good news, so not hearing from them must mean things were going good in Brenham. But they weren't, things were not going good in Brenham, they were going great.
Right as I sat down for dinner, across from the bride's family, a family that has also become my second family, I got a text message from Mom and my heart sank- was this bad news? And then I read the message: "Hope all is well- just have to tell you, your Dad grilled tonight and it was awesome. God is good!"
God is truly good. Dad hasn't grilled or wanted to grill since October, and Dad has always loved to grill. My heart was so full of joy after reading that text message, life was becoming a bit more normal at our house and it was so comforting.
Dad has been feeling good lately- very few headaches, his speech has been almost perfect, his memory getting better daily, and his strength is slowly coming back- we are so incredibly blessed. On Friday Dad finished a round of chemo, which means the dreaded week after chemo has started, although we all continue to pray that his headaches continue to decrease, his appetite stays strong, and his strength continues to improve daily.
We have not noticed any additional side effects of the small bleed that was noticed during his last MRI, although Dr. Fleener still wants to do a CAT scan on Tuesday, just to be sure. Dad will also be getting another round of Avastin, as we continue to pray the treatment is breaking down the tumor and stopping any growth.
Life is so precious. So many precious memories and moments that we share with those that we love. I pray every day that Dad is included in all these future memories and moments for me and my family, and I pray every day to walk by faith and not by sight.
"Come to me with empty hands and an open heart, ready to receive abundant blessings. I know the depth and breadth of your neediness. Your life-path has been difficult, draining you of your strength. Come to Me for nurture. Let Me fill you up with My Presence; I in you and you in Me. My Power flows most freely into weak ones aware of their need for Me. Faltering steps of dependence are not lack of faith; they are links to My Presence."
Trying so hard to understand God's path for me and my family, trying so hard to remind myself that there is a greater power controlling everything- far greater than any doctor or any medicine- and constantly reminding myself, and others, that although cancer sucks, God is good.
Continue praying, as we continue to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Sunday Is Coming: Dad Update 4/23/2014
Sunday's sermon at church was absolutely perfect for my family, the title: 'Sunday Is Coming'. Our Pastor explained how horrible of a day Good Friday was for Jesus, and how many of us experience our own personal 'Good Fridays' in life. But just as Jesus experienced his Good Friday, he also experience Easter Sunday- the day of Resurrection, a day of celebration.
The same God that gives us our own 'Good Fridays', is the same God that gives us our 'Easter Sundays'- Sunday is always coming.
Yesterday, Sunday came for our family. Dad's MRI noted no additional tumor growth, and the area of concern showed less contrast- all good news! The MRI also showed a slight bleed, but after reviewing the MRI with Dad's Neurosurgeon, Dad's Oncologist wasn't too concerned with the bleed. We are lucky to have two doctors who work so well together, and two doctors who are extremely cautious, so Dad will be having a CAT scan in 2 weeks to monitor the bleed. We have been told to continue to monitor Dad's blood pressure and his headaches, as these are all side effects of his Avastin treatment. But all in all, the appointment went well.
We know that there are many 'Good Fridays' for us in the future- days filled with pain, anxiety, fear- days that will test our faith and determination of this path, but we continue to remember that Sunday is coming.
Dad started another round of chemo Monday night, which will continue every 28 days, and another Avastin IV treatment yesterday, which will continue every 2 weeks. We have an extremely long road ahead, but we are so blessed with a good MRI result and so blessed that Dad has been feeling so well.
Lately Dad's been smiling, laughing- just being my old Dad again, and seeing that brings a smile to my face that no one can take away.
We have a new normal. Living with cancer has become our new normal. You hear about cancer, you see how cancer impacts others, but you never think cancer is something that will impact you. But happiness comes when we stop complaining about the troubles we have and offer thanks for all the troubles we don't have- and we are truly happy and thankful.
I often search for quotes from other cancer survivors, fighters, and caregivers, because many times I feel like others say exactly how I'm feeling better than I could ever say- and this quote was no exception:
"If it weren't for cancer I'd have the perfect life. But if it weren't for cancer, would I even realize it."
We are blessed. This journey is a blessing- as weird as that might sound to others- we have been blessed. I've said this before, I've been given this gift of quality time with Dad, regardless if this quality time lasts 6 more months or 16 more years. I've been able to say all the things I wanted to say, do all the things I wanted to be able to do for him, and take mental snapshots of moments with him- moments I'll cherish forever. There is only one person who knows when our last moment will be here on Earth, and he does not wear a white coat or a green mask- so until then, until that moment happens, I'll take it all one day at a time and smile through it all, because even though cancer sucks, God is truly good.
Keep praying and we will keep fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
The same God that gives us our own 'Good Fridays', is the same God that gives us our 'Easter Sundays'- Sunday is always coming.
Yesterday, Sunday came for our family. Dad's MRI noted no additional tumor growth, and the area of concern showed less contrast- all good news! The MRI also showed a slight bleed, but after reviewing the MRI with Dad's Neurosurgeon, Dad's Oncologist wasn't too concerned with the bleed. We are lucky to have two doctors who work so well together, and two doctors who are extremely cautious, so Dad will be having a CAT scan in 2 weeks to monitor the bleed. We have been told to continue to monitor Dad's blood pressure and his headaches, as these are all side effects of his Avastin treatment. But all in all, the appointment went well.
We know that there are many 'Good Fridays' for us in the future- days filled with pain, anxiety, fear- days that will test our faith and determination of this path, but we continue to remember that Sunday is coming.
Dad started another round of chemo Monday night, which will continue every 28 days, and another Avastin IV treatment yesterday, which will continue every 2 weeks. We have an extremely long road ahead, but we are so blessed with a good MRI result and so blessed that Dad has been feeling so well.
Lately Dad's been smiling, laughing- just being my old Dad again, and seeing that brings a smile to my face that no one can take away.
We have a new normal. Living with cancer has become our new normal. You hear about cancer, you see how cancer impacts others, but you never think cancer is something that will impact you. But happiness comes when we stop complaining about the troubles we have and offer thanks for all the troubles we don't have- and we are truly happy and thankful.
I often search for quotes from other cancer survivors, fighters, and caregivers, because many times I feel like others say exactly how I'm feeling better than I could ever say- and this quote was no exception:
"If it weren't for cancer I'd have the perfect life. But if it weren't for cancer, would I even realize it."
We are blessed. This journey is a blessing- as weird as that might sound to others- we have been blessed. I've said this before, I've been given this gift of quality time with Dad, regardless if this quality time lasts 6 more months or 16 more years. I've been able to say all the things I wanted to say, do all the things I wanted to be able to do for him, and take mental snapshots of moments with him- moments I'll cherish forever. There is only one person who knows when our last moment will be here on Earth, and he does not wear a white coat or a green mask- so until then, until that moment happens, I'll take it all one day at a time and smile through it all, because even though cancer sucks, God is truly good.
Keep praying and we will keep fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Dad Update 4/16/2014
It's difficult for me to explain everything that goes into caring for a loved one that has cancer, especially one you live with. I can't explain the constant care, love and worry you have for that person, or the constant paperwork, bills, and insurance issues you also have to deal with. It's something that can't be explained, nor can anyone truly understand until they too have gone through a similar experience. There are many people who may not truly understand our day to day battle and fight against cancer, but these people attempt to make any stressful moment disappear and be there for us when we need it most. For that- I truly thank you. And then there are some people who struggle to understand and question how others could be so understanding towards us, understanding in a sense that gives us an "advantage" to day to day tasks- to those people, I pray for you. I pray that you never have to experience some of the pain, stress and worry that my family and I feel daily. But I also pray that if you do, others are kinder and more understanding to you than you've been to us.
We've been so blessed with understanding people, and the non-understanding people have helped me to appreciate these people even more. Every 6 months I go in for my normal teeth cleaning, and today marked my 6 month date. 6 months ago Dad was just diagnosed with cancer, 6 months ago I went into my appointment tired, emotionally stressed and worried about the future. Today's appointment was a little different, I'm still tired, emotionally stressed and worried about the future- but filled with a bit more hope than before, and a bit more understanding for our journey. As my dental hygienist walked me out she mentioned how strong I am throughout all of this, how strong I'm being for my Dad. I responded and told her I wasn't sure about all that, but I do know that God thought my family and I were strong enough for this journey- and he's never wrong.
Dad starts another round of chemo and Avastin treatment next week, and another MRI. These last few days Dad has not had too many headaches and has been feeling good- and for that we are so blessed! It's one day at a time, sometimes 1 hour at a time, and other times 5 minutes at a time. Today is a good day, Monday started a good week- so I'm not sure what else there is to complain about!
I've become a big advocate of paying it forward- something that I feel like I owe to others since so many have done for me. We've been so blessed with continued love and support these last 6 months- love and support that goes far from unnoticed. I honestly realize it even more when I'm faced with a difficult person in this journey- I think it's God's way of reminding me how truly blessed I am with friends and family who seem to understand. I think it's God's way of helping me see that through all the bad, I'm blessed with so many amazing people around me.
I continue to pray each night for Dad to feel better and fight on. We will never stop fighting for a cure and I continue to fight for a day where no 26 year old has to experience the pain, anxiety and fear that I have every day.
As horrible as cancer is, it's given me a gift: time. Regardless of Dad's fight, regardless if his fight is 6 more months or 10 more years- I've been given quality time with him. I've been given time to share laughter, love and tears- time. Precious time that maybe I wouldn't have otherwise noticed or appreciated- time to express my love and gratitude towards him.
"Maybe you can afford to wait. Maybe for you there's a tomorrow, or three thousand, or ten, so much time you can bathe in it, roll around in it, let it slide like coins through your fingers. So much time you can waste it. But for some of us, there's only today. And the truth is, you never really know."
Life is short, life is filled with ups and downs, highs and lows- but life is also filled with little moments, little moments that will become big moments- just don't let life go by so fast that you miss out on them.
Keep praying, we will keep fighting, and Dad will BTHO Brain Cancer!
We've been so blessed with understanding people, and the non-understanding people have helped me to appreciate these people even more. Every 6 months I go in for my normal teeth cleaning, and today marked my 6 month date. 6 months ago Dad was just diagnosed with cancer, 6 months ago I went into my appointment tired, emotionally stressed and worried about the future. Today's appointment was a little different, I'm still tired, emotionally stressed and worried about the future- but filled with a bit more hope than before, and a bit more understanding for our journey. As my dental hygienist walked me out she mentioned how strong I am throughout all of this, how strong I'm being for my Dad. I responded and told her I wasn't sure about all that, but I do know that God thought my family and I were strong enough for this journey- and he's never wrong.
Dad starts another round of chemo and Avastin treatment next week, and another MRI. These last few days Dad has not had too many headaches and has been feeling good- and for that we are so blessed! It's one day at a time, sometimes 1 hour at a time, and other times 5 minutes at a time. Today is a good day, Monday started a good week- so I'm not sure what else there is to complain about!
I've become a big advocate of paying it forward- something that I feel like I owe to others since so many have done for me. We've been so blessed with continued love and support these last 6 months- love and support that goes far from unnoticed. I honestly realize it even more when I'm faced with a difficult person in this journey- I think it's God's way of reminding me how truly blessed I am with friends and family who seem to understand. I think it's God's way of helping me see that through all the bad, I'm blessed with so many amazing people around me.
I continue to pray each night for Dad to feel better and fight on. We will never stop fighting for a cure and I continue to fight for a day where no 26 year old has to experience the pain, anxiety and fear that I have every day.
As horrible as cancer is, it's given me a gift: time. Regardless of Dad's fight, regardless if his fight is 6 more months or 10 more years- I've been given quality time with him. I've been given time to share laughter, love and tears- time. Precious time that maybe I wouldn't have otherwise noticed or appreciated- time to express my love and gratitude towards him.
"Maybe you can afford to wait. Maybe for you there's a tomorrow, or three thousand, or ten, so much time you can bathe in it, roll around in it, let it slide like coins through your fingers. So much time you can waste it. But for some of us, there's only today. And the truth is, you never really know."
Life is short, life is filled with ups and downs, highs and lows- but life is also filled with little moments, little moments that will become big moments- just don't let life go by so fast that you miss out on them.
Keep praying, we will keep fighting, and Dad will BTHO Brain Cancer!
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Run For The Rose Update- We've Reached $10,000!
I remember the day I came across the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation, I remember the day I found 'Run For The Rose'- it was February 17, 2014 to be exact- and I remember the day we had $775 donated to our team. I remember calling Mom over to the computer to make her see the people who had donated, and I remember saying that I couldn't believe we had raised that much money. It's amazing how far we've come since February 17, 2014.
Fast forward to March 30, 2014, it was race day and we had almost 50 people on our team who had signed up to run/walk, and even more who showed up to support Dad and cheer us on during our run. We flooded the course, and Reliant Park, with maroon shirts, which as an Aggie of course made me extremely proud, and Dad was able to share with us this special day. At that point we had raised over $9,000, and I was still in disbelief that so many people donated to such an amazing cause and so many people joined us that day.
And now, fast forward again to 4/9/2014, the day we realized we had raised $10,000.
$10,000!
$10,000!!
$10,000!!!
I'm truly in disbelief. It's been an extremely difficult few weeks, and these last days have pushed and tested my faith more than ever. And now, it seems like my faith in people and in this plan have been restored.
You see, Dad's fight is far from over, and, just like I told him last night, "You have to keep fighting. You keep fighting and we will keep fighting." The money we raise directly funds research and treatment options at MD Anderson, treatment options that are directly associated with Dad's other doctor in Houston, treatment options that are saving lives.
This experience has reminded me how good people are, how much people truly care, and that society is still showing that among all the bad, there is still so much good!
Keep praying, help us to keep fighting, and let's BTHO Brain Cancer!
Fast forward to March 30, 2014, it was race day and we had almost 50 people on our team who had signed up to run/walk, and even more who showed up to support Dad and cheer us on during our run. We flooded the course, and Reliant Park, with maroon shirts, which as an Aggie of course made me extremely proud, and Dad was able to share with us this special day. At that point we had raised over $9,000, and I was still in disbelief that so many people donated to such an amazing cause and so many people joined us that day.
And now, fast forward again to 4/9/2014, the day we realized we had raised $10,000.
$10,000!
$10,000!!
$10,000!!!
I'm truly in disbelief. It's been an extremely difficult few weeks, and these last days have pushed and tested my faith more than ever. And now, it seems like my faith in people and in this plan have been restored.
You see, Dad's fight is far from over, and, just like I told him last night, "You have to keep fighting. You keep fighting and we will keep fighting." The money we raise directly funds research and treatment options at MD Anderson, treatment options that are directly associated with Dad's other doctor in Houston, treatment options that are saving lives.
This experience has reminded me how good people are, how much people truly care, and that society is still showing that among all the bad, there is still so much good!
Keep praying, help us to keep fighting, and let's BTHO Brain Cancer!
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Dad Update 4/8/2014
The week post-chemo is always difficult, and this last week has been no exception. Dad isn't feeling good, he is extremely tired and having headaches- bad headaches. If I could trade places with him, I would do just about anything, anything to make his pain stop.
I was on the phone most of yesterday with different nurses trying to figure out what was causing these headaches and what we could do to fix them. You know, because as a non-medical person, I just assume everything can be fixed by some sort of medicine. We've known since Dad started his new treatment of Avastin that high blood pressure and headaches were a common side effect, so Mom and I have been monitoring his pain and blood pressure lately. It's almost comical for me to be calling a nurse to talk through blood pressure and pulse readings, because I literally have no idea what those numbers even mean- or what would be considered normal. There have been lots of sleepless nights and painful days for Dad, and we are hoping to figure out what is causing the headaches, so we can figure out how to treat them. I told him to just hang in there with us and I would figure out how to make the pain stop, and I hope I didn't promise something that I can't deliver.
On top of all the pain Dad is experiencing, we've also continued to deal with headaches associated with insurance and billing. It's those sort of things you don't think about when someone is diagnosed with something like cancer, something that you wouldn't think would consume so many hours of your night. It's something that I never wanted Mom or Dad to deal with or think about, something I never thought I would know so much about. I'm pretty sure some of the hospitals know my Dad's account and my name by heart, because I don't pay a penny more than we owe and I also make them provide billing details for each claim. Yes, I'm an auditor by day and by night.
People have been asking how we are doing, how Dad is doing- and my common reply, "We are ok." It's not great, it's not wonderful, I'm not going to lie and tell you it's been an easy couple of weeks, or an easy 6 months, because that would be far from the truth. We are trying to make it one day at a time, and lately my therapy from it all has been running.
I've been running a lot lately, which is a little weird because I use to hate running in high school and college. Dad loves being outside- mowing grass, being in the garden, or working in his shop- so a little bit of me feels like I'm running for Dad. I know Dad would give anything to be able to do all those things again, and I have no doubt that one day he will! Running also takes my mind off of things for a little bit, and I've always said that it's much cheaper than therapy.
I ask that the prayers keep coming- prayers for a good MRI result in the next couple of weeks, prayers Dad's headaches get better, and prayers that we all continue to find strength to make it through it all.
"Often God will ask us to do something that the human mind [considers] not logical. But God has not called you to walk in his logic. He called you to walk in [his] Faith." It's a daily struggle, but I am focused to walk in his faith- because God doesn't call the qualified, he qualifies the called.
I was on the phone most of yesterday with different nurses trying to figure out what was causing these headaches and what we could do to fix them. You know, because as a non-medical person, I just assume everything can be fixed by some sort of medicine. We've known since Dad started his new treatment of Avastin that high blood pressure and headaches were a common side effect, so Mom and I have been monitoring his pain and blood pressure lately. It's almost comical for me to be calling a nurse to talk through blood pressure and pulse readings, because I literally have no idea what those numbers even mean- or what would be considered normal. There have been lots of sleepless nights and painful days for Dad, and we are hoping to figure out what is causing the headaches, so we can figure out how to treat them. I told him to just hang in there with us and I would figure out how to make the pain stop, and I hope I didn't promise something that I can't deliver.
On top of all the pain Dad is experiencing, we've also continued to deal with headaches associated with insurance and billing. It's those sort of things you don't think about when someone is diagnosed with something like cancer, something that you wouldn't think would consume so many hours of your night. It's something that I never wanted Mom or Dad to deal with or think about, something I never thought I would know so much about. I'm pretty sure some of the hospitals know my Dad's account and my name by heart, because I don't pay a penny more than we owe and I also make them provide billing details for each claim. Yes, I'm an auditor by day and by night.
People have been asking how we are doing, how Dad is doing- and my common reply, "We are ok." It's not great, it's not wonderful, I'm not going to lie and tell you it's been an easy couple of weeks, or an easy 6 months, because that would be far from the truth. We are trying to make it one day at a time, and lately my therapy from it all has been running.
I've been running a lot lately, which is a little weird because I use to hate running in high school and college. Dad loves being outside- mowing grass, being in the garden, or working in his shop- so a little bit of me feels like I'm running for Dad. I know Dad would give anything to be able to do all those things again, and I have no doubt that one day he will! Running also takes my mind off of things for a little bit, and I've always said that it's much cheaper than therapy.
I ask that the prayers keep coming- prayers for a good MRI result in the next couple of weeks, prayers Dad's headaches get better, and prayers that we all continue to find strength to make it through it all.
"Often God will ask us to do something that the human mind [considers] not logical. But God has not called you to walk in his logic. He called you to walk in [his] Faith." It's a daily struggle, but I am focused to walk in his faith- because God doesn't call the qualified, he qualifies the called.
Friday, April 4, 2014
The 6 Month Anniversary
Tomorrow will mark six months. Six months since I received a phone call from Mom telling me to rush home, six months since I saw Dad on a stretcher with EMS by his side, six months since I saw blood-so much blood- on the floor in our kitchen, and six months since I waited in the ER to see Dad. I can't believe it's been six months.
I remember that day six months ago like it was yesterday. I remember fear and anxiety consuming my thoughts, as we weren't sure what caused the seizure or if Dad would know who we were when we were allowed to see him.
I remember walking into the room at the ER, I remember wondering if he would know me and wondering how I would react if he didn't.
His eyes were closed, and he was in a lot of pain, but I grabbed his hand and held on to his Aggie ring, and Mom asked him if he could open his eyes and see who was in the room. I started to talk to him, and asked him if he knew who I was- a question I never wanted to ever have to ask my Dad. He never opened his eyes, but answered: "That sounds like Whitney." I think at that moment my heart stopped and I knew all would be ok- I wasn't sure what 'ok' would look like, but Dad knew who I was and that was all that mattered.
We've come a long way in six months, and each day is a step towards recovering from surgery and beating cancer. It's been six months filled with brain surgery, a 5 day stay in ICU, physical therapy, speech therapy, radiation treatment, chemotherapy treatment, and many nights where I've prayed that all would be 'ok'.
These six months have without a doubt changed me. I read a quote recently that I think describes my journey perfectly: "Some people try to turn back their odometers. Not me. I want people to know why I look this way. I've traveled a long way, and some of the roads weren't paved." The journey with Dad has been a life changing journey- one filled with ups and downs, highs and lows, and Faith.
These six months would not have changed me in the same direction without love and support from friends and family. Friends and family who have helped me laugh and try to forget it all, and have comforted me when I just needed to cry.
There is no way to describe what it feels like to sit with your loved one as they receive treatment for cancer. It's surreal. You feel like you want to cry and run away from it all- but at the same time you know that for your loved one to be strong and fight, you have to be strong and fight. And that's exactly what we are going to do.
Thank you all for being on this journey with us now for six months. Without the love, prayers, encouragement and support from each of you, we wouldn't be nearly as strong and as prepared to fight this as we are.
I continue to think about my daily devotionals, and one really sticks in my mind from months back:
"You see huge mountains looming, and you start wondering how you're going to scale those heights...you tell me how worried you are about the cliffs up ahead. But you don't know what will happen today, much less tomorrow...If I do lead you up the cliffs, I will equip you thoroughly for that strenuous climb. Keep your mind on the present journey, enjoying My Presence. Walk by faith, not by sight..."
Huge mountains ahead, but I also know that wherever this path is taking me, there is someone much stronger and much more powerful already there. Just trying to remember to walk by faith, not by sight.
I remember that day six months ago like it was yesterday. I remember fear and anxiety consuming my thoughts, as we weren't sure what caused the seizure or if Dad would know who we were when we were allowed to see him.
I remember walking into the room at the ER, I remember wondering if he would know me and wondering how I would react if he didn't.
His eyes were closed, and he was in a lot of pain, but I grabbed his hand and held on to his Aggie ring, and Mom asked him if he could open his eyes and see who was in the room. I started to talk to him, and asked him if he knew who I was- a question I never wanted to ever have to ask my Dad. He never opened his eyes, but answered: "That sounds like Whitney." I think at that moment my heart stopped and I knew all would be ok- I wasn't sure what 'ok' would look like, but Dad knew who I was and that was all that mattered.
We've come a long way in six months, and each day is a step towards recovering from surgery and beating cancer. It's been six months filled with brain surgery, a 5 day stay in ICU, physical therapy, speech therapy, radiation treatment, chemotherapy treatment, and many nights where I've prayed that all would be 'ok'.
These six months have without a doubt changed me. I read a quote recently that I think describes my journey perfectly: "Some people try to turn back their odometers. Not me. I want people to know why I look this way. I've traveled a long way, and some of the roads weren't paved." The journey with Dad has been a life changing journey- one filled with ups and downs, highs and lows, and Faith.
These six months would not have changed me in the same direction without love and support from friends and family. Friends and family who have helped me laugh and try to forget it all, and have comforted me when I just needed to cry.
There is no way to describe what it feels like to sit with your loved one as they receive treatment for cancer. It's surreal. You feel like you want to cry and run away from it all- but at the same time you know that for your loved one to be strong and fight, you have to be strong and fight. And that's exactly what we are going to do.
Thank you all for being on this journey with us now for six months. Without the love, prayers, encouragement and support from each of you, we wouldn't be nearly as strong and as prepared to fight this as we are.
I continue to think about my daily devotionals, and one really sticks in my mind from months back:
"You see huge mountains looming, and you start wondering how you're going to scale those heights...you tell me how worried you are about the cliffs up ahead. But you don't know what will happen today, much less tomorrow...If I do lead you up the cliffs, I will equip you thoroughly for that strenuous climb. Keep your mind on the present journey, enjoying My Presence. Walk by faith, not by sight..."
Huge mountains ahead, but I also know that wherever this path is taking me, there is someone much stronger and much more powerful already there. Just trying to remember to walk by faith, not by sight.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
Our First Trip To Houston: 4/1
Well, our first trip to Houston reminds me again why I'm so happy Dad initially met with a doctor in College Station- the medical center is MUCH bigger and MUCH more confusing than I realized; Not to mention my blood pressure instantly rises when I step foot in any hospital or doctor's office, then add the stress of traffic, parking garages, figuring out what floor a doctor is on- I think it's even more clear that I'm a high stress individual.
Many people have asked me, "Why did y'all not go to MD Anderson/Houston to begin with?" Well, first the treatment for this particular type of brain tumor would have been the same in College Station and at MD Anderson- 6 weeks radiation and chemotherapy. And to be honest, MD Anderson would have initially done a biopsy to determine what the tumor was, but our Neurosurgeon recommended we remove as much of the tumor as he could immediately- and thank God we did. Dad had a blood clot the size of the tumor when he went into surgery, a blood clot that, if left in his brain for just a biopsy, would have caused a major stroke, a stroke that I'm not sure Dad would have survived. And on top of all the reasons above, Dad wanted to be in College Station. We wanted this treatment process to be as comfortable for him as possible, and we all knew we had a vote in it all, but his Oncologist, Dr. Fleener, told us Dad had 2 votes. We didn't even need one vote, we were going to do whatever Dad wanted to do- and Dad wanted College Station.
After our last appointment with Dr. Fleener (who let me add is hands down one of the most positive, amazing and just downright wonderful doctors I've met), she wanted us to meet with a Neuro Oncologist in Houston to look at other treatment options for Dad. I appreciated her honestly and aggressiveness when it came to treating Dad's cancer, so here we are with a trip to Houston to meet with Dr. New.
You hear 'Oncologist' and it brings a lot of fear and uneasiness to anyone, I think at this stage I'm numb to feeling that way. We've met with so many doctors, I've been to so many different hospitals (not without my usual feeling like I'm about to faint), and I've heard all the terrible statistics, although those don't seem to phase me much anymore, as this is just another step in our journey- hopefully a step towards remission.
Dr. New is, well, she is experienced (that's my nice was of saying she's an older doctor), and she is very well educated! She agrees with everything we have been doing with Dr. Fleener and wants us to wait until the end of April for our next MRI to see if she wants to add any additional treatment to what Dad is doing. It was just nice to hear a second opinion and get established with her for potential future treatment options. She works directly with MD Anderson and has more treatment options for Dad, more than I thought we had, which gives me hope.
My daily devotional was absolutely perfect today: "Accept each day as it comes, and find Me in the midst of it all." Taking everything one day at a time, and finding the good in it all- or at least I'm trying really hard! I think I'm still off of this 'high' from 'Run For The Rose'- being surrounded by so many people with the same passion and focus on finding a cure for Brain Cancer. I honestly can't describe how it feels for a complete stranger to give you a hug after sharing your story, a story they can relate to as their loved one battled the same type of cancer. I have read all of the 'Heroes' on the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation page, and I love when I meet the family of a Hero that I've read, a family that understands our battle on a completely different level.
I wish I would have told his family that I read their son's story on the 'Heroes' section and his quote was something that has been engraved in my mind, and something I share all the time. The story came from Michael Piatt: "During one of his first visits to MD Anderson, a nurse entered the room. Pinned to her shirt was a button that read "Cancer Sucks". Michael, although suffering from pain, softly began to chuckle. He then said, "Yes; cancer sucks, but God is good." And he was right- cancer does suck, but God has truly been good throughout it all!
Continue the prayers, continue the thoughts, and we will continue to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Many people have asked me, "Why did y'all not go to MD Anderson/Houston to begin with?" Well, first the treatment for this particular type of brain tumor would have been the same in College Station and at MD Anderson- 6 weeks radiation and chemotherapy. And to be honest, MD Anderson would have initially done a biopsy to determine what the tumor was, but our Neurosurgeon recommended we remove as much of the tumor as he could immediately- and thank God we did. Dad had a blood clot the size of the tumor when he went into surgery, a blood clot that, if left in his brain for just a biopsy, would have caused a major stroke, a stroke that I'm not sure Dad would have survived. And on top of all the reasons above, Dad wanted to be in College Station. We wanted this treatment process to be as comfortable for him as possible, and we all knew we had a vote in it all, but his Oncologist, Dr. Fleener, told us Dad had 2 votes. We didn't even need one vote, we were going to do whatever Dad wanted to do- and Dad wanted College Station.
After our last appointment with Dr. Fleener (who let me add is hands down one of the most positive, amazing and just downright wonderful doctors I've met), she wanted us to meet with a Neuro Oncologist in Houston to look at other treatment options for Dad. I appreciated her honestly and aggressiveness when it came to treating Dad's cancer, so here we are with a trip to Houston to meet with Dr. New.
You hear 'Oncologist' and it brings a lot of fear and uneasiness to anyone, I think at this stage I'm numb to feeling that way. We've met with so many doctors, I've been to so many different hospitals (not without my usual feeling like I'm about to faint), and I've heard all the terrible statistics, although those don't seem to phase me much anymore, as this is just another step in our journey- hopefully a step towards remission.
Dr. New is, well, she is experienced (that's my nice was of saying she's an older doctor), and she is very well educated! She agrees with everything we have been doing with Dr. Fleener and wants us to wait until the end of April for our next MRI to see if she wants to add any additional treatment to what Dad is doing. It was just nice to hear a second opinion and get established with her for potential future treatment options. She works directly with MD Anderson and has more treatment options for Dad, more than I thought we had, which gives me hope.
My daily devotional was absolutely perfect today: "Accept each day as it comes, and find Me in the midst of it all." Taking everything one day at a time, and finding the good in it all- or at least I'm trying really hard! I think I'm still off of this 'high' from 'Run For The Rose'- being surrounded by so many people with the same passion and focus on finding a cure for Brain Cancer. I honestly can't describe how it feels for a complete stranger to give you a hug after sharing your story, a story they can relate to as their loved one battled the same type of cancer. I have read all of the 'Heroes' on the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation page, and I love when I meet the family of a Hero that I've read, a family that understands our battle on a completely different level.
I wish I would have told his family that I read their son's story on the 'Heroes' section and his quote was something that has been engraved in my mind, and something I share all the time. The story came from Michael Piatt: "During one of his first visits to MD Anderson, a nurse entered the room. Pinned to her shirt was a button that read "Cancer Sucks". Michael, although suffering from pain, softly began to chuckle. He then said, "Yes; cancer sucks, but God is good." And he was right- cancer does suck, but God has truly been good throughout it all!
Continue the prayers, continue the thoughts, and we will continue to BTHO Brain Cancer!
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