Some Normal Days

 Robin finished her radiation the other day. This was her second round. The first round was to her hips, and comparatively, it wasn't bad. This was twelve shots of radiation to her head.

 It started with them custom fitting a plastic mask to her face, drawing targets on it and using it to strap her to the table. Then a buzzer would go off, and start the procedure. She told me the flash that she saw during the procedure was violet, and it would show up about chin level. Then, she would immediately smell and taste metal. When it was over, she was exhausted.

  She said the first day was the hardest, because it was kind of claustrophobic. She has a touch of it anyway, but I imagine anyone would feel that way wearing an iron plastic mask.

 Now, she has one more week of the oral chemo she is taking, and then she has a week off from it. It is literally a handful of pills, twice a day, added to the handfuls of pills she already takes. Luckily, the multi-vitamins are the largest ones she has to take.

 This week coming up might actually have no appointments of any type. She has another week before her infusion, and starting the oral chemo once again.

 All in all, though, we are still hopeful. Halfway through the radiation, the tumor on her skull started to get tender, and it now appears to have stopped growing, something the doctors also noted. Now, it feels soft.
 That is some hope.

 She has also been noticing a bit of change in her lungs. She said she is getting out of breath more quickly, and since the tumors there weren't effecting her at all, that is a good sign.

 They told us when the treatments start working on the tumor, the tumor and the tissue around it become inflamed, so that will give you a lot of these symptoms. That's why she ran into all those issues in her brain.

 And those issues saved her life. Otherwise, we wouldn't have know about it.

Tomorrow is another day. We step bravely and with faith into it. We don't know what it holds, but we can have hope.

"Always in motion, the future is."

Everything Changed

 So, this is kind of off of my usual topic line, but hey, it's relevant.

 Today is 9/11/11. It has been ten years.

 Hard to believe, isn't it? I still remember what I was doing when it happened.
 I was at Goodfellow AFB as a Lance Corporal, and we were coming back in from a break in class, and happened to notice everyone crowding around the television in the Soda Mess.

 At that point, everyone still thought it was an accident. Then the second plane hit. The movement on base pretty much all ceased, since no one knew what was going to happen next.

 I often wonder if that's what it was like after Pearl Harbor.

 I imagine it must have been similar.

 God bless all my brothers and sisters in the Armed Forces, Law Enforcement, and all those in Emergency Services. Bless those people who put their lives on the line day in and day out, protecting those who can't protect themselves.

Never Forget.

I Can't See the Future, It's Foggy...

 So Robin started her whole head radiation today, and should be starting the Chemo running concurrently with it next week. That means more pain for her. That means more pain for the rest of us who have to watch her go through this. I keep praying that if she isn't going to make it through this, God will just take her home so she doesn't have to suffer anymore.

 This went from breast cancer to breast/bone/lung cancer to breast/bone/lung/brain cancer. It seems every time we accept this, and start suffering gracefully and moving forward well, and really trusting God, every time we make a little progress, it gets worse. I'm afraid to try to let go again, but I'm trying.

 She's still here suffering, so maybe that is a good sign.

 I think the fatigue of all of this is catching up with us. Everyone is on a hair trigger, and tempers are flaring. We are all trying to keep it together, but I guess some days you just have to breakdown so you can pick it all up again.

 I know for myself, I have to keep the real situation tucked away deep inside so I can get through the day without breaking down. I think that's why the little things get to me so much.

 We moved some furniture around tonight, and I ended up being pretty grumbly when it was all said and done, and it all led to a fight. We fell apart, but we picked it up again and put it all back together.

 The reality of it is I am scared shitless of losing my wife. I am scared of having to be a single parent when I am woefully unprepared. I'm terrified of a future that I can't see. I'm terrified that it is in the cards for me to be a single parent, and for my kids to only have a mom for part of their life. What then? How the hell do I get past that?

 God, we could use that miracle now.

Humbled by Everything

 The Peach Festival was, by all accounts, a tremendous success. So many people came out, it was a great time of fellowship. Robin was so happy, and humbled to see everyone. It's amazing to see a turnout like that for anything, but to realize it is for you is pretty overwhelming. But she made it through very well.

 Everyone ate well, enjoyed the music, and things were raffled off. It seemed like good times were had by all.
The biggest miracle of the day was the weather. It was threatening in the morning, poured the hour before, and then, it was clear and beautiful for the Festival.

 After the Festival, the clouds rolled back in and the thunder started up again. A few hours later, and it was pouring again. Thunder and lightning and gale-force winds, got us later that evening, but it was wonderfully clear for the time we needed.

 It was so great to see everyone who showed up, and it really looked like everyone enjoyed themselves!

 I also want to that everyone for their generosity. It just amazes me what people can and will give in situations. Thank you all!