Retirement Celebration. & Dad Update 12/15/2016

Tomorrow will be Mom's last day at Brenham ISD after 28 years of service. It's crazy to think this chapter of her life is ending, and she is now turning the page to a new chapter- one filled with many unknowns, but lots of time for friends & family. 

The last three years of work for Mom has been challenging. She's struggled through some really difficult days, each of which she managed through with a smile on her face and an unbelievable perspective on it all. Her positive attitude and outlook has never ceased to amaze me. 

When I think back on Mom's 28 years of service, there is really one main phrase that comes to mind when describing her management style, one thing she constantly tells me when I struggle with a career decision:

"There are three priorities in life you need to remember, and they go in this order exactly. Your faith is first, your family is second, and then it's your career. If you consider the priority of each of those, you'll never make a wrong choice."

That's how she managed her office the last 28 years, and that's how she has managed our house (especially) in these last three years. It's a true testament to the type of manager she is, and most importantly, the type of person she is.

She ends these last 28 years with many friends she has met through her job as Child Nutrition Director at BISD. Friends that have laughed and celebrated through the good, and friends that have been there to love her and cry with her through the bad. She has been so incredibly blessed. 

I joke that Mom and Dad may have survived cancer these last three years, but can they survive being with one another each day, all day long? And it's truly a joke because, if anything, they will thrive being with one another each day. 

Everyone has commented on how great Dad is looking- and I couldn't agree more. If you just looked at him, you'd never know the fight he's put up these last three years. He's a pretty amazing fighter, and most importantly, a pretty amazing dad. 

So after 28 years of waking up early, barely eating a lunch, and working late- Mom gets to set her own schedule. She can wake up at 7 am, or sleep until 10 am. She can make a sandwich for lunch or meet friends downtown. She can work on her own to do list until 8 pm, or stop at 3 pm. Her schedule is just that, HER schedule. And I know both her and Dad are thrilled. 

We have no idea what Dad's next MRI will show, as we were told that 7-9 months post surgery the tumor would return- and here we are 38 months later with no recurrence. After being given just 14 months to live, I think it's safe to say God has another plan for Dad. I know he's using him in ways that I couldn't have ever imagined- and all because of cancer. If you look hard enough, you truly can see the good in it all. 

Tomorrow at 5 pm, I'll be celebrating with Mom as she ends her chapter at Brenham ISD. We will probably have a glass of wine, or two...ok maybe three. We will talk about her favorite things about Brenham ISD, we will laugh (Mom will probably cry a bit), and then we will look to the future at all the wonderful things that are still left in this lifetime. We know from experience these things will involve laughter and tears, trials and triumphs, but most importantly amazing friends and family each step of the way. 

Congrats Mom on 28 amazing years at Brenham ISD!

Christmas Time At The Glenz Household. Dad Update 12/8/2016

On Tuesday we had a follow up appointment with Dr. Fleener and discussed our upcoming MRI. Dad has currently been off all treatments since August- he's thrilled to be done with the IV treatment Avastin, and even more thrilled to be off of chemotherapy. Three years of such intense treatment can really take a toll on your body. 

It's been 38 months since we learned of Dad's cancer, and it's been 38 months where we learned a lot about ourselves, a lot about our faith, and even more so about the support system we have in this battle. Y'all, we are so incredibly blessed. 

And the holidays are always such a wonderful time to remind ourselves of how blessed we are to have Dad still with us- how amazing it is that he's truly beaten the odds! I looked back and saw that just two years ago I posted the following quote, and after our most recent trip to see Dr. Fleener, it's all still so incredibly true: 

"Part of winning the battle against cancer is hope, faith, determination, strength and keeping positive. The other part of winning the battle is a great medical team on your side. I learned early on that statistics are just numbers, and I'm more than a number. I'm a strong human being with inner strength and an iron-clad determination to fight to win. Statistics don't tell you about the human behind the fighter who possesses the will and strength to fight, win and overcome."

Dad has this unbelievable amount of hope, faith, determination and strength- and what he lacks in staying positive on some of his most difficult days, Mom more than makes up. These two are an incredible team, two people that I'm so very proud to call my parents- they have looked fear, anxiety and stress right in the eyes, and have fought back with everything they have. Statistics in Dad's cancer clearly didn't take into account these two individuals in this battle. We were given 14 months. And here we are 38 months later. I think it's safe to say Mom & Dad's hope, faith, determination and strength had a lot to do with it- along with a lot of prayers and the good Lord on our side. 

And the other part of our battle- a great medical team. I can't say enough wonderful things about each person at the Cancer Clinic in Bryan. After each visit Dr. Fleener gives Dad a hug and says "I love you." In a place that COULD be so incredibly cold and depressing- I honestly don't wish ANYONE a visit to an Oncologist office- the Cancer Clinic is FAR from that. I've been there at least once a month since Dad's diagnosis, and I've always been greeted with a smile, a hug, and a question "How's Larry doing?". They know us by name- we have no patient number that I'm aware of- and they answer each of my questions (no matter how dumb they may be!). We are blessed to have found such amazing people to care for my Dad. 

On Tuesday we left with wishing each of the staff, nurses and doctors a Merry Christmas, and the words "See y'all in 2017!"

We have another MRI at the end of the month, but until then we are planning to focus not on the results and the scan-anxiety associated with it all- no, instead we are going to focus on celebrating the true meaning of the season. We plan to spend time with friends & family, celebrate the two little ones (soon to be THREE!) experiencing the JOY of Christmas, and soak up as much time as we can with Dad. 

I know all too well the statistics associated with Dad's cancer, but I also know all too well the absolute grace God has given us these last three years. We've been given more time than we ever thought we would have, and for that I am so incredibly grateful. 

Wishing you all a wonderful Christmas season and a Happy New Year! 

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!