A Life Filled With Miracles. Dad Update 11/28/2016

As I started going through the beautiful pictures my best friend took of my family in an attempt to pick only one or two for our family Christmas card, I also pulled out my devotional and the words couldn't have been more perfect:

"A life of praise and thankfulness becomes a life filled with miracles. Instead of trying to be in control, you focus on Me and what I am doing."

A life filled with miracles is exactly what we have experienced- Dad is our miracle. 

I think back to that first Thanksgiving after Dad's diagnosis- we were in the middle of his radiation and intense chemotherapy treatment. Dad felt terrible, and we all had this thought in the back of our minds- what if this was the last Thanksgiving with Dad?

Each year since then we have been reminded how blessed we are for our miracle. Each year we are reminded of those incredibly difficult months following Dad diagnosis, months that we still look back and question how we ever survived it all. 

We celebrated another Thanksgiving surrounded by friends and family, and we look forward to the Christmas season! It's really our family's favorite time of year- Mom always manages to go all out, and I managed to have about seven crates filled with Christmas decorations for my house. Like mother-like daughter apparently!

This last year has been one filled with so much joy. I can't share with each of you enough how blessed we feel to have Dad with us each and every day. I honestly can't share with each of you how much our faith has grown with each day that has passes. 

Dad is still off of all treatment- no chemotherapy and no Avastin- he's thrilled, and so am I- I haven't had to yell at any insurance companies or hospitals in what seems like forever!

We have another MRI at the end of the year, with hopes that everything appears stable and the break from treatments can continue, as I know the quality of life for Dad is so much greater since he's been on this break! We know all too well the beast we are up against, and we are so incredibly proud of Dad for being a three year brain cancer survivor!

Here is a little sneak peak of our Christmas card for this year! A big thank you to my best friend of almost 20 years for taking pictures for us again this year- check out her website loveandlightphotography.co,

Each year gets a little more challenging to manage the little ones, and next year will be even more challenging, as my middle sister, Meghan, and her husband Ross are expecting their first child! I'll be an aunt to three little ones, and I couldn't be more excited!

As always, your thoughts, prayers and kind words have meant more to us than you'll ever know. Thank you for your love and support, and thanks for helping us BTHO Brain Cancer!

When The Battle Is Over... The True Suffering Begins.

This morning I received a text that broke my heart into a million pieces. 

"My mom died this morning."

I honestly didn't even know how to respond. Because I knew no words could bring back her mom. No words could show the absolute pain my heart was feeling for her and her family. No words could bring any sort of comfort to her at that moment. 

So what did I share? 

I told her that I loved her. 

This dear friend of mine has been on a cancer journey very similar to ours, as her mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer about a year and a half ago. We've both celebrated through great scans, and supported one another through some not so great ones. We've leaned on one another for advice on how to manage the side effects of the treatments, and we've each celebrated small victories when our loved ones managed to feel just a little bit better. 

She's been my rock throughout Dad's battle. 

I recently watched a sermon by Matt Chandler- he's a pastor in the Dallas area, and a brain cancer survivor- where he shared the following words:

"Suffering. Difficulty. It should surprise no one." Matt Chandler

You're right Matt, these things shouldn't surprise us- because it is what God has promised each of us- it's just I wish those things didn't hurt so bad. 

And I truly believe that eventually we understand the suffering and difficulty that is placed in our lives, and although I do not think God WANTS us to suffer- it's part of our journey in this world. I believe that God gives us the tools to handle the suffering and difficult times, but sometimes it takes us a while to find those tools in the midst of our sadness and defeat. 

There are a lot of things that I can relate to when it comes to a cancer diagnosis. I can relate to the awful chemotherapy treatments and the terrible side effects. I can relate to the numerous insurance issues and bills. I can relate to scan days and the dreaded anxiety associated with waiting for the results. I can relate to the pain of hearing "terminal cancer". 

But I can't relate to losing a parent. I know it's a loss that is hard to describe. It's a loss that involves so much suffering, and so much pain.

And although I can't relate to the loss, what I also shared with my friend is that I do not believe that her mom "lost" her battle with cancer. 

No you see, her mom showed faith, determination, strength, and a will to kick cancer's butt. How can you lose a battle when you have all those things in your corner? 

So today, I'm asking for a few more prayers for my dear friend and her family, as they face the suffering after the battle. They face the realization that the cancer journey is over, and a new type of suffering has started. 

I'll be hugging Dad a little bit tighter, enjoying a few more extra moments with him over the holidays, and I'll be thanking God for each second I have with him- because after today, life has shown me, once again, that our time here is short and the little moments in life truly are the big moments. 

MRI Results. 10/27/2016

Quick Dad Update:

Dad had an MRI yesterday and today we received the wonderful news of no changes, no indication of tumor growth- everything is stable! This is even compared to the MRI done over a year ago- everything appears stable and that is such amazing news!

Dad is thrilled to be off all treatments- his blood pressure is back to normal and he's been feeling better each day. 

Thank you all for the continued thoughts and prayers, as Dad continues fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!

In Honor Of Our Favorite Caregiver- Happy Birthday Mutz!

It takes a pretty special soul to be a caregiver for a loved one. Someone who takes the bad days in strides, and celebrates the good days as small victories. Someone who never cries while Dad is around, but instead shows great strength in moments when we all want to fall apart. 

Who is this special soul? My favorite caregiver- my Mom, and everyone's favorite Mutz. 

From day one she has told every doctor we've met that Dad is going to beat the odds- and he has. She has never crumbled or given up. She has never said she can't, but instead she continues to prove that she always can. 

She had learned to do the yard work and work the pool equipment, pay the bills and manage Dad's appointments- she literally does it all. 

There are moments when I'm not sure how she does it. Moments where anyone else would have given up and quit, but instead she continues with great strength, a big smile, and strong faith leading the way. 

This weekend we celebrated 60 years for Mutz. 60 years where she's celebrated great moments of joy, but also profound sorrow. She's learned in these 60 years how to be a great wife, mother, sister and friend. She's also learned in these 60 years how to be a great caregiver. 

She is probably going to read this post and call to tell me that she doesn't deserve this much credit, that she hasn't been all those things I wrote above (and more). And then I'll just laugh and tell her that if anything my words didn't accurately share the strength, faith, and love that she continues to provide to those around, especially to Dad. 

(Look Mutz, I saved you a phone call right there!)

I wrote in her card for her birthday a quote that I think is so very accurate of her strength and determination:

"Anyone can give up, it's the easiest thing to do. But to hold it together while everything seems to be falling apart, that is real strength."

And real strength is just one amazing quality she holds. 

Wishing Mutz a very happy 60th birthday and prayers for many more birthday celebrations!

3 Year Cancer-Versary. Dad Update 10/5/2016

October 5 will always hold a pretty important place in our hearts. On October 5, 2013 our entire world was turned upside down. And although we didn't know what exactly caused Dad's seizure that day- we consider this date Dad's "cancer-versary". 

Three years. 

Three years ago we were told the statistics associated with Dad's cancer- statistics that were not freely given to us, but statistics that were asked by Dad to our Neurosurgeon- 14.6 months. Approximately 20% of people diagnosed with Gliblastoma will survive three years.

Our hearts stopped. 

I look back now and remember the fear that consumed me when I heard that my Dad would have just ONE year left in his lifetime.

How foolish of me to think that I had the right to limit God to statistics. 
How foolish of me to think that His hand was not in the midst of our darkest days. 
How foolish of me to not believe in miracles.

Because that is exactly what Dad is- a miracle. As Dad reaches his 3 year mark battling this beast, he is now considered a "long term survivor". My heart aches to read that line- it's something I fight for every day, to provide better treatment options and funding for brain cancer research. A "long term" survivor at three years is just not long enough. 

And I could go back to that day and relive all the pain, anxiety and pure fear that was placed in my heart- but instead, I want to focus on the joy, faith, and HOPE we've experienced these last three years. 

It's been three years of some good MRIs, and some not so great ones. It's been three years filled with great days, and really bad days. It's been three years filled with lots of laughter, and a lot of tears. I think it's safe to say we've been on a bit of a roller coaster these last three years. 

We don't know what the next three years will have in store for us, much less the next three days. We are all too aware that our world can be turned upside down at any moment, but I think if anything God has used these last three years to prepare us for the possible difficult days ahead.

We've learned to appreciate the good, and find a way to be positive throughout the bad. We've learned that it's okay to cry and be fearful, but to trust in a much greater power. And we've learned that we have the strongest parents in the world. I'm not sure how we would have survived without the strength and determination of Dad, and the love, hope and faith of Mom.

I was recently telling a friend that during the first few months of Dad's diagnosis I was so incredibly angry. I spent so much time, and had so many conversations with God that were filled with anger and hate. And now, now I'm starting to realize what this journey is really about, and as much as cancer sucks, I feel pretty honored that God thought our family was strong enough to handle it all. 

I just hope that we've made him proud throughout this journey. 

We can't thank our friends and family enough for loving and supporting us throughout it all. We would have crumbled a long time ago if it wouldn't have been for the countless prayers, the endless meals, and the constant texts just to check in. 

We've become a stronger family because of this- we have learned that the little things are the BIG things, we've learned that our faith is much BIGGER than this cancer, and we've learned that throughout it all, we really are blessed.

Dad has stopped taking all treatments- no more chemotherapy or Avastin treatment. He is feeling so much better and we are so thankful that this was an option we were given, that Dad is doing well enough to take a break from the medicine that was making him so incredibly sick. 

Thank you all for the continued love and support, and thank you all for helping us BTHO Brain Cancer! 

Here's to celebrating Dad being a cancer SURVIVOR for three years!

Post MRI/Post Dr Appointment Dad Update. 9/13/2016

I realize now that I never gave an update post-doctor appointment after Dad's MRI and, still what we think, was a TIA (Transient Ischemic Attack). 
*A TIA happens when blood flow to part of the brain is blocked or reduced. After a short time, blood flows again and the symptoms go away. A TIA is often labeled "mini-stroke", it is more accurately characterized as a "warning stroke". The only difference between a TIA and a stroke, is that with a TIA the blockage is temporary. TIA can last for up to 24 hours. 

We made a decision, as a family and with the help of our amazing doctor, to stop all treatments for Dad. No more chemotherapy. No more Avastin. No more bi-weekly trips to the Cancer Clinic. 

To say Dad is happy with this decision would be an understatement, as he dreaded taking those chemotherapy pills, and bi-weekly trips to College Station were never his favorite. 

(Can I mentioned that I'm thrilled as well- as this will mean less fights with his insurance company to pay for the VERY expensive Avastin treatment!)

As we had our appointment with Dr. Fleener, she was thrilled to share that the MRI looked great, that there in fact were no changes, no tumor growth, and no indication of a stroke- and she also shared how relieved she was that it was a good MRI since we just stopped the chemotherapy. 

Mom, myself and my sisters had already had this discussion about the chemotherapy and our fear that the tumor had returned, we had this discussion prior to knowing the results of the MRI. We talked, and we were honest with one another, and it was simple what we shared: How horrible we would have felt if Dad would have had another terrible round on the chemotherapy, only for the tumor to return. 

It was in that moment that we were all on the same page, that I truly felt at peace with our decision to stop all treatment. So when others ask me how I feel about Dad being off the Avastin now as well, I share with them how thankful I am that this is even an option for Dad and how thankful I am that I am giving it all to Him to walk us through. 

We will have another MRI in 6-8 weeks, and until then we aren't sure what our journey will involve. We are all hoping to get back to a new sense of normal, as emotionally and physically, we are all still so exhausted from the other week. 

My devotional has been with me throughout this three year cancer journey, and as the outside looks worn and the pages bent, it's been pretty spot on during some of our "bumps in our journey":

September 1 (Dad's MRI/Results)
"When you encounter rough patches along your life- journey, trust that My Light is still shining upon you. My reasons for allowing these adversities may be shrouded in mystery, but My continual Presence with you is an absolute promise. Seek Me in good times; seek Me in hard times. You will find Me watching over you all the time."

And watching over us He did. 

Thank you all for the continued thoughts and prayers, and thank you all for helping us BTHO Brain Cancer!

What A Week It's Been. Dad Update 9/2/2016

Let me first start by sharing that Dad's MRI did not show any tumor growth or any changes from our last MRI. The cancer is NOT back!

To say we are all a bit shocked, would be an understatement- as I was preparing for appointments with another doctor and had started researching clinical trials offered by this particular doctor in Austin. 

Many have asked us how we knew something wasn't right with Dad, so I thought I would share how in just four short days we thought our world was falling apart- how four "short" days have felt so much longer and left each of us physically and emotionally exhausted. 

On Monday, Dad fell. This fall wasn't exactly abnormal by any means, as with the two brain surgeries and radiation treatment, he has some right side weakness- but he was able to get himself back up and was able to tell Mom about it later. Monday wasn't a great day, but it wasn't terrible. But then there was Tuesday...

Tuesday Mom tried to get Dad up, but he was just so incredibly tired and so incredibly weak. With Dad off of the chemotherapy, this was unusual and Mom gave me a call. I came home and stayed with Dad all afternoon while Mom finished up some meetings at work, just to make sure he didn't fall again or have any other issues. He honestly seemed okay Tuesday afternoon. But Tuesday night was a different story. 

My sister made dinner and went over to Mom & Dad's house, where Dad had some extreme right side weakness, and was constantly dropping his fork at dinner. We all started getting a bit more concerned, as it seemed as though everything was getting worse.

And then Wednesday morning I received a call from my other sister that something was clearly wrong with Dad- between the right side weakness getting worse, his speech basically unable to be understood and him being even more confused- I made a call to the Cancer Clinic to figure out what we should do. 

My mind flashed back to almost three years ago when I made a similar call, except that time barely able to be understood as I sobbed on the phone. This time, I was way too calm for my own liking- but I like to think my faith has grown TREMENDOUSLY these last three years- and before making that call, I gave it all up to God. I talked to the nurses and Dr. Fleener and we decided to move up the MRI- we all had the same concern, that the tumor was back. 

Wednesday was difficult, as Dad was so incredibly weak, his speech was nothing that I could understand, and he was doing things that were not logical at all. I found myself having to stop Dad from doing things that he would never do, and try to explain to someone, who couldn't reason at all, why he shouldn't be doing something. There were so many times I wanted to just break down and cry, as I felt like I was seeing my Dad slowly slip away. 

I left Wednesday evening and my mind was racing in a million different directions. I knew something wasn't right, and I refused to not be prepared for the tumor to have returned. Thursday was spent getting things in order at Mom & Dad's, as I wasn't sure what appointments and treatment would be in our future, but I wanted everything to be ready for us to be busy focusing on Dad. 

By Wednesday night, Dad was acting normal again- no right side weakness, speech completely back to normal, and his confusion almost gone. I didn't know what to think, as when he was initially diagnosed he had a seizure on a Saturday, but we didn't find out until later the next week it was from a tumor, and he didn't have another seizure between the initial seizure and the surgery- so was this a similar situation? Would Dad be bad one minute and completely normal the next because of a new tumor? 

Thursday seemed a bit like a blur, as we waited patiently (ok, I wasn't exactly patient) for the results to come in from the MRI. With the yard work all complete, house cleaned, laundry done, and grocery store trip made- we sat and waited as Dad went to his MRI appointment. Time seems to go by so incredibly slow when you're waiting for results. But the results came back and all was clear- no cancer, no changes. 

I can't explain why there is no tumor growth, but turning to my devotional almost seemed TOO perfect for today:
"...When you depend on Me continually, your whole perspective changes. You see miracles happening all around, while others see only natural occurrences and 'coincidences'..."

We aren't sure what exactly was going on with Dad these last few days, although we are concerned it could have been a few mini-strokes he experienced- and sadly when you're up against something like Glioblastoma, a mini-stroke(s) is a relief. Dad's IV treatment can cause strokes, so we will discuss today IF this treatment will stop due to everything Dad has been experiencing. 

I can't thank each of you enough for the countless thoughts and prayers being sent our way, we witnessed the power of prayer this week and we are so thankful for another miracle in Dad's cancer fight.