Our 2 Year Anniversary. 10/5/2015

I was introduced to the story of Matt Chandler, a pastor in Dallas who was diagnosed with brain cancer over 5 years ago. A different type of tumor than Dad battles, but the fight is so very similar. I found an article where he described how he found purpose in his pain, and I couldn't help but want to share his exact words. I couldn't have said it better myself:

Matt stated, "Now let me be very clear here. I'd much rather bring Him glory by preaching; I'd much rather bring Him glory by driving an '01 Impala that backfires in school zones; I'd much rather bring Him glory by giving away a large part of our income; I'd much rather glorify Him in those ways, than to have brain cancer. But I don't get to choose that."

"It's not punitive; it's not random; and it has not been given to us by God to show us who's boss, Matt says, "There's a purpose in it; there's a limit in it; and in the end, God is not going to give us what He will not sustain us in. And I believe at that moment, the Holy Spirit gives you the power to stand. That's exactly what we found out. And I'm rejoicing in what He's doing in it."

24. 24 months. That's 2 years. Yes 2 years! Dad is a 2 year cancer SURVIVOR. And what an amazing 2 years it has been!

We felt so weighed down in the statistics associated with Dad's cancer. And then we had to remember that every person, every cancer, every situation is unique and different. We knew this was not random, this was not given to us by God to show us who was boss. Instead, we took the statistics and knew that it was not our job to deny the diagnosis, instead, we would fight to defy the verdict. And that's exactly what Dad has done.

The 2 year survival rate of glioblastoma patients is about 25%. That means Dad had a 75% of not being here. And here he stands. 

Nearly 100% of glioblastomas recur, usually within 6-8 months. Dad's tumor has never returned.

The median survival of a glioblastoma patient is 16-19 months. And here we are 24 months later.

We've beat the odds. Dad's strength, determination, and fight has beat the odds. 

The struggles we've faced these last two years. The difficult moments, days, and weeks. The times when we felt as though all hope was lost- where we were forced to turn to a much higher power throughout it all, for we were too weak to fight this battle on our own. We look back now and think, "How the heck did we do it?" How did we handle the surgery and physical therapy, the radiation and chemotherapy together, the nights of concern and worry- how did we manage to continue on?

Faith.

Fear can keep you up all night, but Faith makes one great pillow. 

Continuing to REJOICE on this journey and feeling so incredibly blessed for the love and support shown to my family throughout Dad's battle. If you would have told me this is where we would be 2 years ago sitting in the hospital after Dad's seizure, I would have never imagined it. I could never imagine my heart would be so full of love and support from friends and family. This path, so perfectly created for us, has been more of a blessing than anything, and I am so thankful for each of you who have walked on this path with us.

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

On Tuesday we handed out BTHO Brain Cancer t-shirts to the staff, nurses and Dr. Fleener. I can't say enough wonderful things about each person at the Cancer Clinic! We are so blessed that God put us on this path with such wonderful people!

We have another MRI scheduled in November, which will mark 4 months since Dad's last MRI. We continue to take it all one day at a time and be so incredibly thankful for this journey!

My Thank You To Nurses.

With so much media attention on nurses, I couldn't help but think back to our last 2 years of constant appointments and treatments, and be so incredibly blessed for the nurses in my life. So here is my thank you to all the nurses out there, especially those who have helped Dad these last 2 years. 

Dear Nurses,

You have each helped scan, poke, cut and monitor my Dad these last 2 years. From brain surgeries, ICU stays, MRIs, administering treatment, doing blood work, and being my on call for any question or concern- you have handled each situation perfectly, and I thank you for that. 

Thank you to the ICU nurses at St. Joseph's. When our world seemed to be falling apart, and we were sleep deprived from sleeping in the waiting room, you were there to offer kind words and provide care to my Dad. I credit Dad's ICU nurse with saving his life that day in October 2013. That day where the brain surgery was a success and, shortly after, Dad's right arm started appearing very weak. There were no machines that went off, or some sort of test that showed what was happening, just the training of one amazing nurse who noticed a change and called the doctor. We soon realized Dad was having a brain bleed and was quickly rushed back to surgery. That nurse saved Dad's life, and for that there are no words to thank her enough. And to the ICU nurses who allowed us to visit during non-visitation hours to help make Dad more comfortable and to the ICU nurses who loved and cared for my Dad as I would love and care for him, thank you. 

Thank you the Cancer Clinic nurses. To say these nurses have become second family to us would be an understatement. These nurses have answered every call I've had with any question or concern. They have answered some of my difficult questions, where my voice screamed panic and concern, and their response was calming and comforting. I remember that day in March 2014, where we were concerned the cancer had returned. I walked back to the chemotherapy area with tears in my eyes, panic in my heart, and fear overtaking my body- and I wasn't greeted with any cold words or request to "sign in" or provide Dad's information. Instead, I was greeted with a hug and those words I will never forget, "I'm going to take very good care of your Dad." Thank you for providing hope to my family throughout this journey, thank you for providing guidance to me on this path where medical information is so foreign to me, and thank you for providing a hug when I needed it more than I could have ever imagined. Thank you. 

And to my family of nurses- thank you! You answer the calls in the early mornings and late nights, those calls where I'm filled with panic or concerned, and you are calm and reassuring. I'm not sure if nurses take a class on how to remain calm in stressful situations, or if that's just how perfectly God made you for this profession, but how amazing it is that when the world seems to be falling apart, you're right there to help manage the pieces.

And maybe nurses don't hear it enough, but thank you for all that you do each day. Thank you for the sacrifices you make working late, or being on call. You reassure us, you comfort us, and you provide a sense of strength in battles that we do not know how to fight. You become family to many of us, and I hope you see what a blessing that is to many families like mine. 

Continue your passion in helping others, because on the days where nothing seems to go right, on the days where you're tired, burnt out, and frustrated with your profession- know that there are families like mine who pray for people like you. People who provide calm in the storm, people who provide hope when the world seems hopeless, and people who provide care to those we love the most. 

Thank you.

Washington County Fair. Dad Update 9/17/2015

"Nothing can happen without God's permission and God will not allow a difficulty unless He has a divine purpose for it. If you will keep your peace, you'll pass the test, and God will bring you out better than you were before."

Last night Dad made a trip up to the Washington County Fair. This was especially BIG because last week was chemo week for Dad, and what an exceptionally difficult week it was! Dad starts chemo on a Monday and by Wednesday the side effects of the treatment are usually in full force and last until about the next Wednesday, which is why I was thrilled Dad felt good enough last night to come enjoy the fair. 

And this year was also a special year, as it's Luke's first trip to the Washington County Fair! I see lots of fair memories for him in his future. 

Making it to the VIP room to eat is always a challenge, as it seems like Dad is stopped non-stop by others wanting to say hi. Dad put so much of his heart and soul into the Washington County Fair- from serving on committees, to helping so many with their fair projects- he loved every minute of it. I still had to call him after every show yesterday to let him know who won Grand and Reserve and how some of the others placed. It always brings such a big smile to my face when others ask about him or to see the number of people stopping him to say hi- he is loved and prayed for by so many!

So the fair week continues on, and I hope Dad has a few more nights where he can enjoy the fair with friends and family. We never know if Dad will be having a good day or a bad day, but we continue to be so thankful for each day we are given with Dad. 

Thank you to all who have stopped and talked with Dad at the fair and those who continue to ask about him- we are so blessed with an amazing group of friends and family on this journey. 

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

23 Months. Dad Update 9/2/2015

"Not being able to fully understand God is frustrating, but it is ridiculous for us to think we have the right to limit God to something we are capable of comprehending."

Saturday will mark 23 months since Dad's brain cancer diagnosis. I look back at our journey these last 23 months and I think about all the things it's been filled with- frustration, disappointment, tears, and fear. And then I realize it's also been filled with hope, joy, faith, and laughter. 

23 months ago I had so much anger and frustration towards God because I didn't understand our journey. I didn't understand why my Dad was being faced with something as difficult as cancer. What I didn't understand was that it was absolutely ridiculous for me to think that I had the right to limit God to something that I am capable of comprehending. 

And now, 23 months later I still don't fully understand it all. There are still moments and days where I wish things were back to how they were before Dad's diagnosis, but the frustration is gone. The disappointment, tears and fear have become less and less each day. Instead, we are filled even more with hope, joy, faith and laughter. 

Dad finished another round of chemo a couple of weeks ago, and overall, he felt good. Not great, but good. I will happily accept good. And now we put our focus on the events ahead. The Washington County Fair is coming up quickly, and this is always such an important time of year for Dad. We did very well at the fair with both our chickens and our rabbits, and that was a large part to Dad's hard work and dedication. And now, Mom and I serve on the Poultry Committee at the Fair. The Washington County Fair gave so much to my entire family, and it's just a small way for us to give back to it all. A little throwback picture circa 1995, when we won Reserve Grand Champion at the Washington County Fair. Dad is so incredibly proud, and I love that Mom is wearing a t-shirt with chickens on it. Oh I miss the '90s. 

Our next doctor's appointment is scheduled at the end of September, where we will meet with Dr. Fleener and discuss how Dad is doing and schedule our next MRI. To have 3 months between MRI's is just unreal to me, and as much as I love not having to visit the Cancer Clinic as often- it's very strange to me. Some days, I completely forget that Dad is battling against cancer, and what a huge blessing that is for me. I get to forget about the chemo, MRIs, medical bills, and doctor's appointments, and instead, I just get to enjoy my time with Dad. 

Thank you all for the continued love and support you've shown to me and my entire family. I am so thankful that this journey has allowed both myself, and my family, to grow closer in faith, friendship and family. We are better because of it all. 

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

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!