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!

Lessons learned, or, the Zen of Suffering

 When I woke up today, I realized I just learned something. Through talking to my friends and family, including some old friends I never really expected to hear from, I realized that many people have been talking about how strong we are, and how well we are dealing with all of this.

 I didn't really see us as dealing well with this. We spent a lot of days crying and shouting, and yelling at God, and bitching about how unfair it all was. And it is. Life is totally unfair. I can think of roughly 1400 inmates I know who totally deserve cancer more than my wife. I also realize at this point, that I wouldn't wish cancer on anyone either. It is the great equalizer. Young or old, rich or poor, it doesn't matter. Cancer sees no races, it kills indiscriminately. It's unfair to everyone.

 But a few weeks ago, I let my anger go. One night after I took myself off of my anti-depressants, I had a moment where I visualized a Sith version of myself being sealed off. It is geeky, really geeky, but it worked for me. I told him I didn't need his destructive anger anymore. I didn't need the Dark Side, as it were.

 Now, onto the lesson I learned.  I have been noticing there are a lot of spots that Bushido and Christianity cross paths. (Read Bushido, The Soul of Japan by Nitobe Inazō) And this particular spot is dealing with suffering gracefully. As Americans, we are bad at that. Especially this generation. We really suck at it. We have this sense of entitlement that is rampant (some worse than others), and if we don't get what we want out of life, stand the hell by.

 The Japanese were always, as a culture better with that. Nitobe pointed that out in his work, and I trust his viewpoint, as he was a Japanese Quaker from the turn of the century. I trust he knows what he was talking about. But if you want a more modern example, just compare Katrina and the Tsunami/Earthquake/Nuclear Holocaust in Japan.

 Who dealt with it better? Any looting in Japan? Anyone floating out giant screen televisions? Nope. People got in line and did what was expected of them.

 It is the whole philosophy of suffering well. We can look at it as dealing gracefully with life. I am by no means a master of it, but I am learning.

 And learning, like everything else is a gradual process. One day at a time.

 One foot in front of the next.

 True courage is to live when it is right to live. - Nitobe

Hell of a week...

 On Monday, when my weekend was just starting, I had no idea the week was going to go like this. Robin had just started her new chemo, so we were expecting all the things associated with that, but nothing else. Sunday night, she had been complaining of headaches, and had been forgetful and slightly irritable, but we just attributed it to the chemo. This was her first round, so we had no idea what was going to happen with it.

 Monday morning, she woke up with a sever headache and nausea, and the told us to come into the ER. A few scans and an MRI later they told us there was also a tumor in the back of Robin's head, and that one was in her brain. It had been causing the headaches and nausea, the vision issues, etc.

 So there it was. Every time we had gotten bad news, we tried to look on the good side. When it was the first breast cancer, it was, "Well, at least it's something they can operate on." Then it was the lung mets they found. "Well, at least it isn't in the brain." Now, it was in her brain.

 The spot on her skull that we knew about was bad enough. A spot in her brain was our worst fears realized.
This was the first time that I really thought about how I would break it to the kids that Mommy might not be coming home. This was the first time I really thought about the fact that I might have to bury my wife.

 It terrified me.

 I mean, the thought is always there when dealing with cancer, that your loved one might not make it. As many advances as we have made, it is still a fairly imprecise process. Chemo is basically betting on killing the cancer before the poison kills you. Surgery is hoping you get it all, but always waiting for the next thing to pop up.

 With the scans we have these days, we can stay on top of it much better, but we still aren't anywhere that would make me happy. (though, the T-cell studies vs. leukemia are promising.)

 Then it happened, I posted in on Facebook and Twitter, asking my friends and family to pray. They asked their friends and family, word spread, and we ended up with a prayer net all over the world. Then, the Doctor came in to discuss the process with us, and gives his impressions. He told us that it was in a good spot for surgery, and he recommended we go that route.

 Then, the great Beast Coast Earthquake of 8/23 happened. I know it may have been just a coincidence. I mean, sometimes things happen while we are discussing things, and it comes across in an ominous or uplifting manner, depending.

 Then again, when you are discussing the best way to deal with your wife's brain tumor that suddenly showed up, and then when the Doctor Mentions surgery, and an earthquake shakes the hospital at that moment, it made me take notice. We are on the East Coast afterall.

 It kind of reminded me of the way Marine Drill Instructors stomp their foot to make sure we are paying attention during classes.

 It seems to have been the right choice, because Robin's surgery went very well, and she is resting. They hadn't moved her to a room by the time they told me to leave, but I know she had gotten some anti-nausea meds and some morphine, so she should be sleeping well right now.

 So, as tough as this week was, I'm feeling hopeful. Faith is one of those things, I know I can't convince everyone that God has his hand on all this, but I know he does. I feel it in my heart, and it helps me go on.

 And when you are dealing with stuff like this, having the strength to go on is important.

Also, as an aside, I'm pretty sure now, that God is non-denominational. A very varied crew was praying over the past few days. I'm just saying.

Crunch Time

 Hello everyone,
 I haven't posted in a while. Everything has been kind of a whirlwind with Robin doing her Radiation and everything, but now that's over. I just didn't have the drive to write then. Terrible case of ennui.

 You might have noticed if you are on my Facebook, that Robin went to the ER the other day with horrible back pain. We (and the Doctors) were worried that she had thrown a blood clot or something, which thank God she hadn't. It turned out to be some deep muscle spasms.

 We did get some scans done while we were there, and it looks like the Mets in her lung have spread. I guess they were seeing little stuff all over in there. And she has a bump starting on the right side of her skull now. Since she hadn't hit her head, they are just going to assume it's cancer, thince she already has some bone mets.

 But, She also started her chemo again yesterday. Her Oncology team is really at bat right now, and they seem to have a plan ready to go right now. They are going to be hitting this hard, so now we just have to hold on and ride it out.

 So, here we are. It is serious. I was starting to get really depressed with all this the past couple day, but then I realized that we haven't even started this part of the fight. God is still in control of this, and as long as we can still fight this, we will. As long as there is the possibility of hope, we will hope.

 Like Master Yoda said, "Always in motion the future is."