A Year (and a few months)

I started this post almost 4 months ago, sometime around the end of April. Tonight (Nick is at scout camp and I can't sleep... ) I read through all our posts from the last year or so. I am, once again, overwhelmed by the support and love we received. Forgive me if this isn't a very cohesive post...some is from tonight, some is from 4 months ago.

The amazing thing is that, as I've read through the posts and comments, I've felt much less like crying and much more like smiling. Don't get me wrong, I'm not happy that my mom had cancer. I'm not happy that she had to endure 5 months of chemotherapy. I'm certainly not happy that she was miserable for a lot of those 5 months. But I am happy about the lessons learned, strengthened relationships,  and (of course!!) the happy outcome!

As I've read over these posts, I've remembered the many nights I got to spend hanging with my mom (and usually at least one other sibling). I've remembered how Lucy and Griffin's births were an incredible lift and joy that our family really needed. I've remembered how close our family got, and how the past year has strengthened those bonds even more.

It's been a year. A year since we first heard the words "Mom" and "cancer" in the same sentence. A year since the "crack in the planet." A lot has happened in a year! Many wonderful and amazing things, but some pretty tough things happened, too.

We added two new babies this year, moved a few times, raised over $2,000 for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, three of us graduated with college degrees (and everyone else sat through all three ceremonies, which is more of an accomplishment!), started new jobs, lost a lot of sleep, had a lot of fun. We experienced these and a million more fantastic things. We also experienced some tough stuff - a lot of it.

Tonight (4 months ago), Nick and I were on our way to consume some delicious ice cream after dinner. We got off I-15 on 5300 south. I started to feel a little anxious and stressed out, and couldn't really figure out why. Then I realized that we were taking the same path that Mom and I took so many times last summer to IMC for chemo treatments. That brought back a lot of memories, some of them pretty hard to revisit.

I think I sort of expected this "cancer" word to hang over our family for a long time after treatments ended, but it hasn't. I don't want to pretend that the anxiety we feel when Mom goes to the doctor or has a scan isn't real, because it most certainly is. I also want to point out that my mom probably feels the looming much more than we do.

It's easy to look back now and forget how devastated and scared we sometimes were during the last year or so. I have (aside from some dramatic teenager moments) always felt blessed to have the family that I do. But I hope our family never goes back to the way it was before cancer. My family has been forever changed by this experience, and even though I wish we could have accomplished the same things without cancer, I'm grateful for the things we learned. I guess I can't speak for all of us on how we feel about the experiences we've had, but I do know I speak for all of us when I say THANK YOU! We are so blessed to have the family and friends that we do. Thank you for supporting, loving, helping, encouraging, praying, crying, laughing, and so much more with us, for us, and all those other prepositions that go along with what I wrote. :) We love you!

The Race is Run!

Races are run by conquering hills and valleys, moving forward through cramps and injuries, and fighting back when your body and your emotions tell you they've had enough.  Sometimes races are full of broken shoelaces, charlie horses and PowerBars, and sometimes they're full of Rituxin, Cytoxin, Prednisone, and PET scans. 
 

In both cases, we're done.

Just like bell-ringing day just over a month ago, today was another big day - the Big Cottonwood Half Marathon.  The Utah Leukemia & Lymphoma Society Team in Training racers raised over $29,000 for cancer research in preparation for this race, and that's not even the physical training.  It's been a wonderful emotional support for us getting to know the people and hear the stories of the LLS and Team in Training members here in Utah.  

Remember the research that events like these fund:  Dr. June in this video is supported by LLS grants.

With your help, Team Paulapalooza raised $2,000 - enough to support two runners.  Nick & Ty were "voluntold" by their wives that they were the lucky winners chosen to represent the family. :)  Neither of the guys had ever run a half marathon, and due to moves and job changes for both, they couldn't train much, either.  They pulled it off amazingly, though, and certainly made us all proud.

Those of us in the cheering section waited at the last water station with other Team in Training volunteers, and had fun encouraging all the racers who came past.  Lillian handed out high-fives while Megan kept count - 106 total! 

 

 

Thank you all for your love, encouragement, and support. Mom discovered herself talking about cancer in the past tense the other day, and that is a really big deal.  Races show you what you're made of, but for this one, we're glad all that's left is a little recovery.  Here's to moving forward. 

 

Lots of Love,
Brad, Emily, Jill, Ty, Megan, Lillian, Nolan, Jeff, Caiti, Lucy, Amy, Nick
&
Paula

WE ARE DONE!

Okay, so I'm running a little behind, since Mom's last treatment was more than two weeks ago...but we're still just as excited! After a whole summer of treatments, Mom can finally focus solely on getting better--which takes a lot of work! Best part? We don't have an appointment with the doctor until NOVEMBER! We love Dr. Whisenant...we just don't really want to see him so often.

The treatment went off without a hitch. First, we met with Dr. Whisenant. He was very encouraging, but realistic. He said she probably won't start feeling much better for a couple of months, and won't be able to say she feels "back to normal" until next summer. So it's not like we're actually done--but we're getting there. One of the hardest things for Mom during this whole ordeal was making herself go back for a treatment, when she usually felt pretty well by the time another treatment came around. Who goes to the doctor when they're feeling well, just so they can feel crappy for a couple of weeks? It doesn't make sense. So, although we're still in for some hard days, at least we'll be making upward progress, even if it's just a little bit at a time.

There's a "last treatment" bell at the clinic that you get to ring on your way out of your last treatment. (Okay, that was probably self-explanatory...) During treatment #5 (second to last), there were a couple of timid bell ringers. Mom said then that she was going to ring that bell with some enthusiasm when her turn came, and she did! Here's a shot of the occasion. It was a happy one!

This last weekend, Mom, Nick, and I took a little trip up to stay in my grandparent's time share in Island Park, Idaho. We spent a day in Yellowstone, hiked to Mesa Falls, and did a lot of relaxing. It was really great for all of us to have some time to relax and enjoy ourselves after a stressful summer, and before a stressful school year starts! 

 

One last thing, and then I swear, I'm done. :) This morning we REACHED OUR FUNDRAISING GOAL!!! Thank you all so much for your help in achieving the goals we set for ourselves this summer. We are so grateful for all of the love, support, and friendship you've shown. We love you!

We're Beating Cancer!

Just a quick post to say a BIG thank you to everyone who came out, donated, helped, or anything at our BBQ on Saturday! You guys are amazing and it was a huge success because of you! Thanks so much! Tonight we're getting ready for the FINAL treatment in the morning! Mom gets to ring the "last treatment bell", and according to her, she's going to ring it with all sorts of excitement! I'm sure we'll have a post in the next few days about the last day. 

Anyway, thanks to everyone who helped us celebrate on Saturday!!

      

  

Are you ready to party?!

We are less than ONE week away from Mom's LAST treatment!! Holy cow. It's so fantastic to be able to say that. It's been a crazy summer, full of a million different highs and lows. But here's the thing--it's almost over. It will be a few months before Mom really feels like it's actually over. It's going to take awhile for her to feel "normal." But in a couple of weeks, we can really say that it can only go up. Like Brad wrote, the word to describe how I feel is relief. Not enthusiasm, not really excitement either. Sure, there was inexpressible joy at hearing the news that the PET scan was clear. But there was also the realization afterward that, although a clean scan was the thing we'd all been hoping and praying for, it didn't signal an immediate end. I think that's been hard for Mom. Sometimes it's hard to be happy, enthusiastic, or excited during this time. The results of the scan have brought out some sort of conflicting and unexpected emotions. "Shouldn't I feel excited that I only have one left?" It's an amazing feeling to know that it's almost over--but it still isn't over. It's easy to feel guilty for not feeling grateful all the time. There's a difference though, between feeling incredibly grateful for answered prayers and feeling constantly enthusiastic. So that's what we've been working on reconciling lately, but overall, life is great! 

The reason for this post--after all that rambling--is to remind you of our fundraiser barbecue THIS Saturday at Lindsey Gardens in the Avenues.                                                                                          

                        

I can guarantee it's going to be a blast! Good company, good food, and-as far as I can tell-great weather! (The high is 88!) We'd love, so much, to be able to see all of you. To catch up, pig out, and share our celebration and gratitude with you. Will you do that for us? :) Hope to see you there!! Please share this post and the invite with your friends and family. We would love to see all of you!

Relief.

Is it possible that the spring, summer and fall of 2013 will represent merely a moment where a life, many lives really, were sidetracked by an invasion that seemed to spring from nowhere wreak some momentary havoc and then vanish almost as quickly as it came?  The idea seems sort of unreal and impossible right now, but maybe five, ten, twenty years from now Mom will think back and say, "Yes . . . that was scary, and the chemotherapy, that really sucked.”  And those of us who didn't have to live through the treatments, “Oh yeah, I almost forgot Mom had cancer.” 

It feels like too much to hope for, but I really hope so.

For now the invasion still looms pretty large, but some of that enormous weight was lifted this week.  It appears that my mom has had all twenty pounds or so of the lymphoma she once carried melt itself away, greedily eating up the Rituximab, Doxorubicin, Vincristine and Cyclophosphamide dissolving a once threatening mass into puny remnants her body could whisk away.  She still has two more rounds of treatment to complete (yes Mom, you have to,) but – and I think we’re all afraid to really say it, we don’t want tempt fate – the cancer looks like it’s gone.  This might really be over soon.

Here I feel compelled to qualify my happiness . . . contain my relief.  You know, "But what if it’s not."  That sort of measured reaction, not wanting to get my hopes up or be too happy, too sad, I think I get that from my mom.  But we should be happy.  This is exactly what we were hoping for.  Since the day we heard “Diffuse large B-Cell blah blah blah” hearing, “the PET scan is clear” on Tuesday was the best possible outcome.  So. . . YES!  What this means is unless something changes my mom has won her race.  She talked about being able to see the finish line, and I like that metaphor. One thing I’d add to it though, nothing is chasing her anymore.  The finish line is in sight and the competition has already dropped out.

What a relief.  I love my mom, I don’t like thinking about what it might be like without her.  This means I don’t have to do that so much anymore, which is a burden lifted, let me tell you.  Knowing that your mom isn't carrying around 20 lbs of lurking cancer inside her anymore feels good.  I know there are hard days ahead, and my Mom probably won’t really be feeling good herself for quite some time, but even if the hard part isn't really over, it looks like the scariest part is behind us.  Good riddance.

Monday Update

Just a quick update for today. We are anxiously awaiting the results of Mom's PET scan last week. She and Jeff are headed to see Dr. Whisenant tomorrow morning to find out if she will have just 2 more treatments, or four. The scan seemed to go well, and the technician even said, "I know I'm not a doctor, but this looks really good!" But we will wait for the final word tomorrow. Other than that, Mom's been feeling pretty well, with just a little nausea and fatigue here and there. 

One more thing. We are planning a fundraiser dinner for the 20th, most likely at Murray park. Save the date for some great food and great company! 

I also want to say thank you for all your love, support, prayers, dinners, visits, (I could go on forever!) it means so much to Mom and to us kids too! You are our strength and we love you!