Processing and a Special Occasion

Post started on 08/15/2012:  Even with the rain pounding on my bedroom windows, my mind is going all over the place.  Beginning with my mom and dad.

Back in September/October of 2000, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer.  She had the tumor removed and went through chemotherapy and radiation.  I sadly admit, I was not there for my mom and dad.  I was not there.  Physically, emotionally, spiritually.  Our relationship at that time was broken.  It took awhile to heal.  Mom went into remission and stayed there until September 2009.  The breast cancer had returned.  However, it was in her pelvis and lungs, and a little later a little in her liver.  They diagnosed her with stage 4 breast cancer. 

For almost 3 years, she has been going in regularly for IV chemotherapy treatments to stop the growth of the cancer cells.  Her oncologist called her the “poster child” for women successfully living with stage 4 breast cancer on the medication Herceptin.  She was doing amazingly.  Her energy level was so high and when she would come to visit and meet my friends and co-workers, no one could ever tell she even was a cancer fighter.  We went to San Antonio in September of 2010 and she had more energy than we did walking ALL over Sea World. 

I’m the first to admit.  I put her diagnosis on the back burner of my mind and never thought of her being stage 4.

That was until Sunday, July 29 when my dad called me and told me that Mom blacked out at church.  I liked how I worded the new situation on the blog I started for my parents to help keep our friends and family up to date.  “We turned a corner…”  Mom was quickly surrounded by the congregation’s doctors and nurses.  And they prayed while waiting for the ambulance as Mom came to.  She was quickly taken to the ER and was taken to get a CT scan.  The CT results showed that the breast cancer has metastasized to her brain.  Tumors pressing on different parts of her brain.

She was immediately started on high dose steroids and started whole brain radiation therapy on July 31.  It was ordered that she’d have 14 days of WBRT.

Post continued on 8/24/2012:  Mom’s 14 days of radiation have come and gone.  She had her last treatment on August 17.  My parents were supposed to make a visit here to Texas to see the kiddos and they were supposed to be here on the 17th.  Josh, Joey, and Kimber miss my parents so much.  I’m hoping that Mom will recover enough for them to make a trip out here eventually.  All the kids want to do is play with my parents in their own rooms that they take so much pride in here in our new house.  Even Kimber has been bugging!!!  Skype only helps so much.  :(

I flew to NC to help my dad on Friday, August 3 and stayed through Friday, August 10.  I’m not going to go into details out of respect for my mom, but it was a very humbling experience caring for her.  The tumors/radiation/steroid combination had tremendously weakened the left side of her body and also changed her mentally.  Her sense of humor was still entirely intact, which was very reassuring.  She was hilarious.  When asked during one of her daily neuro checks, a doctor asked her who the president was.  She responded by showing a thumbs down and blowing a huge raspberry.  Because of all the meds and the tumors, a doctor asked her if she was having any hallucinations, she responds, whispering, “I see dead people.”  And then during a check up after a radiation treatment, one of her radiation oncologists was a fairly young doctor (maybe late 20s early 30s) and she greeted him by calling him “Doogie Howser.”  Seriously, my mom is hilarious.

It’s taken me awhile to process everything that I watched and helped with.  I learned that my parents are incredibly loved and covered in prayers.  I created a blog to make things easier to communicate and update with our friends and family and an email address so that people can email prayers and love.  I watched my dad struggle, trying to go through all his emails of people asking if they could do anything, bring meals, come sit with Mom, sending prayers… it was just so much.  I admit I originally feared leaving NC.  But once again, my mom is defying stage 4 cancer once again.

Which is amazing, yet painful for me on the other end of the spectrum, as we watch a fellow fireman’s wife horrible struggle.  My heart is broken.  I watched cancer pretty much ruin my cousin’s life when he was a child with Ewing’s Sarcoma, which made one leg significantly shorter than the other.  I watched as paramedics provided emergency care when he had a febrile seizure in the midst of all his chemo and radiation.  It’s been 2 years since he passed away from a heart attack in his early 20s in his sleep, leaving behind a son, who is almost his spitting image.  And now watching my mom and our friend… and talking with friends online - one who’s father is battling cancer and another friend who’s father in law is battling it as well.

Two simple words.  Cancer sucks.  There’s just no other way to say it. 

Cancer sucks.

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On a completely different note, David and I have been married 11 years as of today.

Over the past 11 years, well heck, almost 13, we have been through more than our share of ups and downs.  Without this man, I don’t know what I’d do.  He is my rock.  From my incident in college, to making the decision to leave NC for good, marrying me, all 4 pregnancies and our 3 wonderful children, to job changes, to bankruptcy, to foreclosure, to moving from rental to rental within 6 months, continuing issues with our bankruptcy, to holding down the fort here while I was caring for my mom… I honestly don’t know where or what I’d do without him. He is my hero. And he is a hero to these precious children.

So, to my husband, if by chance you’re reading this whole entire long post.  I love you.  With all of me.  Despite me being neurotic half the time (ok, more than half), you continue to stand by me through thick and thin.  I know I can be hardheaded and it takes sometimes going to the extreme to help me understand things.  You inspire me to be more.  To be a better mother to our children.  To be a better daughter.  To be a better follower of Christ.  And to be a better wife for you.  We don’t always agree on things, but we compromise.  I admire you.  I admire your strength.  I admire your drive.  You inspire me.  I don’t always tell you these things, but I promise to be more encouraging and a better listener.  Look at how far we’ve come!  If we have overcome everything that has been thrown at us, we can do anything.  As long as we do it together.  I am proud to be your wife.  And I look at the wedding cross stitch my mom made with her hands with the scripture from Song of Solomon 5:16, “This my beloved and this is my friend.”  Even though I like The Message’s version a little better, “That’s my lover, that’s my man…” I love you.  And I will continue to love you for all eternity.  Happy anniversary.  (In the style of Ron Burgundy, he announced his love for Veronica on live TV because he didn’t have a mountain to shout it off of.  Well, I’m doing it on blog because I don’t have a mountain!)

I freakin’ love you. ;)