An Interesting Adventure

Cramming for Tomorrow's Tests

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Home for a whole week... and no panicking about having to go back into the hospital!

Marsh's first few days were filled with sleep, little bits of favorite foods, waking up and not knowing where he was, meeting the challenge of the stairs, and easing back into life at 2750 Kent Road.

Activities of the last few days have expanded to include car rides (it's so great to go out!), sitting in the sunshine for the first time since September (it's so great to get out!), returning to AND LEAVING The James for blood work (it's so great to be out!), and generally celebrating his new-found freedom.

To answer many questions:
Marsh's facial hair is of the 7th-grade-trying-to-grow-something variety.
Top of the head is peach fuzz (and we're trying not to notice that it seems entirely white) According to urgent internet research, real hair growth could take 6-months to a year.
The fingers are numb, making typing a pain, and punching numbers into his phone truly frustrating.
Feet are a bit numb, too, as well as feeling "floppy and lazy' which makes walking a bit dicey.
Nausea and lingering mouth sores nag.
His endurance is low but steadily improving.
85 pounds lighter and four waist sizes smaller (tho' he really doesn't recommend the chemo-diet plan) we've had to replace the pants -- that literally fall off his body -- with new ones...

But tonight, we're cramming for tomorrow's big tests: the CT and PET scans that will be used for re-staging by illustrating the status of the cancer -- or lack thereof.

So, we continue to covet your prayers.

And gratefully thank God for your support
--c.

But do not forget this one thing, Dear Friends...

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

In a few hours we will go to Dr. Porcu's office and hopefully learn the outcome of Friday's CT and PET scans. Just seven months and a day ago, this was our blog entry:

[After waiting all day, the Riverside attending physician arrived about 6:15p] with the initial report: The tumor is a B-cell Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma. Yep, I have cancer.

That's all we know at this point. There are a number of subclasses of B-cell Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma, some of which are curable, and some of which can be nasty. We will not know more until Wednesday of next week, but, regardless of the details, chemo is the primary treatment approach...

Each day of that seven months has been l-o-n-g, and yet the time has evaporated... "But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day" (2 Peter 3:8 NIV).

And so, the sun is rising, Marsh is sleeping, and we are waiting, with a peace that passes understanding and the sure knowledge of God's astonishing gift of grace.

Will share more when we know it

Continued thanks for the prayers
--c.

Word

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

These days, "word" apparently means "correct," "you got it," even "amen" in a secular sort of way.

Today, Dr. Porcu shared the results of the CT and PET scans. He told us that Marsh's body has "responded completely to the chemotherapy," and that he is cancer-free.

Cancer-free.

Is he cured? Not yet. He will go for scans every 90 days for two years, then in three (we think we've got the timing right here) he will be considered cured.

Word.

It's nearly incomprehensible.

We're dazed, with a growing sense of delirium.

More to come as we process.

For now, our word is Word

"...and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."

Amen.

We're good... And you?

Monday, April 21, 2008

Dear Family and Friends,

We never thought we might be back to such an automatic response to questions of how we are... But in a way it's a comforting relief to just say, "We're good... And you?"

It's been nearly four weeks since Marsh was released from The OSU James Cancer Hospital, nearly two since he got the miraculous news that his body is cancer free... Praise God!

During that time he has worked to regain his strength and stamina, is walking better, looking great, and spending a great deal of time simply enjoying home and the glorious spring unfolding around us. He does regularly pine for hair, however. And if rubbing his head can be a stimulus for hair growth, the new crop will be luxurious!

Marsh is doing well enough that we actually have three trips planned: at the end of this week we will drive to Chicago to see middle-child Annie at Loyola (and tote home some of her stuff in anticipation of school ending). If possible, we hope to go home by way of Lake Erie to see my sister and brother-in-law.

That's the test-run for next week's adventure when we plan to fly to New Hampshire for Parents' Weekend at (youngest) Sarah's school. Marsh has not seen her (at least when he was in good enough shape to realize and enjoy it) since we took her to Shortridge Academy last August. What a reunion that will be!

While we're speaking of our wonderful children, Andrew (oldest) is on vacation, visiting friends before starting a new job... What a blessing he has been to us during the difficulties of the past many months. We are so proud of him for testing past dreams and dreaming new ones.

The third trip is in a month, when the whole family will converge on Denver to celebrate Marsh's mother's 80th birthday. What a wonderful time that will be!

For now, we're enjoying every day on Kent Road. Marsh recently told me that he had decided put as much as possible on hold and take the month of April off. He plans to emerge in May to face life anew, and perhaps come to understand why a path lies before him -- and which way to go on it.

In the meantime, we have learned of the deteriorating health of three friends with cancer, and the sudden death of another friend's husband... all so very hard to comprehend in light of our merciful renewal. Our hearts ache for them and our tears come often.

For now, we pray. We pray for you in grateful thanksgiving for your ongoing care. We pray for them, and for those they love. We pray for the hundreds -- perhaps thousands -- who will be diagnosed with cancer today. We pray for the thousands -- perhaps tens of thousands -- who are waiting or are fearful through testing and treatments and more. We pray, sometimes with words, but more often with gasps of delight at emerging flowers and sighs of grateful contentment while sitting in the sun, or groans of anxiety about the future or sharing the sadness for others...

We pray the prayer that never fails: Thy Will Be Done.

--c.

My fifteen minutes are up...

Monday, April 28, 2008

I feel great and am eager to discover what's next on this incredible journey, but it is time to move forward and reenter life. The last eight months have been quite the ride, as you might imagine, but one I wouldn't change for anything. It has been an adventure of discovery, appreciation and reflection. Also, it is so humbling to understand the number of people who joined us for the journey; thank you.

I feel compelled to say, that my strength came completely from others and from God on high. There have been several mentions about how strong I was, or how well I faced all of this, or over the fact that I didn't whine (actually I did but when no one listened, I just gave it up), but the truth is much less heroic than I have been given credit for. The truth is that there was no choice in how I was going to travel this road. My family -- Carol, Andrew, Annie and Sarah -- were the reason I had no choice in dealing with cancer; I love them all deeply and without end. Every time I began to get a little bit down, the thought of missing times with them dragged me from the pit to the proverbial mountaintop, and I will not let this horrific disease define anything about my life or how I live it.

Carol and I have been wondering what to do with the blog at this point and it seems since our fifteen minutes have expired it's served it's purpose. So, the time has come to end the blog. As a final note, we wish to thank you all for your love, encouragement and prayer. The words are simple but the depth of our thanks cannot be measured.

...and they lived; they lived together, laughing, crying and holding each other closely as they wrote new chapters in the story of their life.

Carol and Marsh