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

August 17, 2014

By Erin B. Dempsey

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. 

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!

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! 

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!

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!

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/)

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. 

I've Learned... Dad Update 7/2/2014

"I've learned that two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different."

Yesterday I was with Dad as he received another Avastin treatment at the Cancer Center in College Station, and yesterday I received one of the greatest gifts cancer has given me- perspective. 

There are always a lot of people receiving treatment at the Cancer Center, some we recognize from our bi-weekly visits, others that are new faces, but all of us have the same story- a story of will, determination, and fight. Our stories are also filled with joy- which is strange for most people to understand, but as you sit next to others fighting cancer, you are also sitting next to some of the most positive people you'll ever meet. I've been with Dad for numerous appointments and treatments, and never once have I heard another cancer fighter complain, never once. Visiting with other cancer fighters, you can't help but realize that all of the little things in life, all of the little things that you sometimes take for granted or complain about, they truly are so small compared to some of the things going on in others lives. 

I had the true pleasure of speaking with another cancer fighter yesterday, as this is her second time to battle ovarian cancer. She talked about travel, her time in Canada, her trip to Alaska- which immediately bonded with Mom and Dad as they talked about their cruise in Alaska- and about being an Aggie. Last fall she said she made sure the doctor understood how important football was to her, and her family, as her grandson played on Friday nights and Johnny Football played on Saturday, which meant scheduling of treatment would need to take place around these important days- this lady literally had all of us smiling and laughing from ear to ear. She reassured Dad that him being tired was completely normal, as 2 days after her treatment she is completely wiped out and just wants to sleep all the time- I think this was nice having Dad hear this from someone else, someone else going through something so similar. I can tell Dad every day that him being tired is normal, but for him to hear it from another cancer fighter, it was exactly what he needed to hear. 

But I think the one story that stood out to me, the one story that made me just sit back and think how truly amazing these people are at the Cancer Center- how God truly does give his most difficult battles to his strongest soldiers- involved the discussion of treatment and chemo.
I asked her how her treatments were going, if she was on chemo or another type of treatment. She mentioned that she started a new round of chemo, and this time it was a bit different than her last type because, "I'll keep the hair on my head. You see this, this is my real hair. But the hair everywhere else, eye lashes, arms, legs- it all falls out. I miss my eye lashes, but man how great is it that I don't have to shave anymore."

Perspective. Two people can look at that exact situation the same way and see something totally different. She chooses to look at her fight in the most positive way possible, and what a true inspiration that is to others.

Dad is feeling great, looking great and is getting stronger each and every day! He was recently taken off of his anti-seizure medication, which has made a HUGE difference in his strength and ability to go longer without needing to rest. He finished another Avastin treatment yesterday and will go back for another treatment in 2 weeks, along with a follow-up appointment with Dr. Fleener. 

Right now we continue to take it all one day at a time, enjoying the true gift of time that God has given us and learning to appreciate each and every day. 

Keep praying and we will keep fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!