Put Me in the Game Coach!

The disclaimer: Mark agrees to poke fun at himself only after the administration of the Ativan.

With the help of my dad and a good friend, I was able to get Mark an incredible Christmas present this year. Mark is the biggest BYU fan ever. His family has been season ticket holders since he was six. I was able to find an actual helmet and Bronco Mendenhall signed it for Mark. It has been the gift that keeps on giving. When Mark got it, the first thing he did was take out the safety bar the manufacturer put in it to ensure no one could wear it. He was so excited to stick it on his head. I had visions of the kid wearing it in the car, during flag football games, sleeping etc. It is a small thing that brings us joy and reminds Mark of a lot of good memories with his family.

Among Dr. Hancock's many admirable qualities, the fact he is also an avid BYU ranks supreme. That and the fact he lets Mark ask the same questions and repeats himself multiple times. Mark loves to reminisce with him about the best BYU moments of all time. He couldn't wait to show off his helmet. I convinced Mark that he should gear up for the back poke and wear the helmet. He initially wanted to sneak it in and just have it on when the doctor came in, but it is a hard thing to hide. While he was doped up, I convinced him that even though the joke was off, he should wear it anyway and I took a few pictures because honestly, it looks pretty hilarious. Mostly because of the background decor.

The helmet matches that princess background and pink pillow pretty well don't you think? I also like the hanging bag of chemo. Interesting mix.

Mark assuming the correct back poke position

Mark and our favorite, fearless doctor. I think they should both be at spring camp.

One size fits most. Sorry about the eyes Dallin! He didn't know I was snapping shots. This might sound strange, but Mark and I look forward to chemo days. The entire office is full of amazing people who make our day. We love the staff and we love the patients. We have met so many people who are fighting their own battles and they never cease to amaze us. Mark and I have it pretty easy. In fact, yesterday marked a half way point. He has now had four of eight treatments. His first scan is this coming Tuesday, and we expect there to be a remarkable difference, even nothing! It will be great to visually see the progress Mark knows he is having. He feels better now than he has in months. After a fun-filled morning and a slick, quick back poke, Mark spent the rest of the afternoon like this:

Sorry Mark! In my defense, I haven't posted a sleeping picture for a really long time. I would be slightly concerned about sleeping in a room full of people. As you can see, it doesn't seem to bother Mark at all. I look pretty silly when I sleep and I have been known to drool. In fact, my mom has albums of me sleeping, drooling all over and I usually have my hands on my face. Mark used to look through them and laugh so this really is only pay back. At least he has a good excuse.

Patience

Is it EVER a good thing to be impatient? I am sick of trying to be patient. Being patient stinks. I am way better at being impatient. Sometimes I think we should play to our strengths. I am an impatient POWERHOUSE. I could compete well with anyone. In the ring, people would be skeptical because I am small, even betting against me, but I would shock them with my impatient capabilites. Probably by starting the fight before the referee said to start. I wouldn't even wait for the bell, that would show 'em! Perhaps impatience can be spun into thinking it is ambition. There has to be something good in impatience, just one little thing?? What if you decided to be patient and wait to get the cupcake, but by the time you got there, the flavor you wanted was gone. (that actually is a true story) Wouldn't it have been better to be impatient and had just gone and gotten it when you wanted so you could get the good flavor? I keep trying to learn how to be a patient person, and all these cool "tests" pop up that are supposed to teach me how to be a patient person, but it is taking way too long. I will never learn to be patient. It isn't that fun. It would be way more fun if something amazing happened that didn't require patience. It just happened-- like a surprise. I don't think you have to be patient for surprises. You don't know they are coming, so you aren't stuck waiting for them. Who doesn't like a good surprise? I guess I am just going to have to patiently await a really awesome surprise:)

Spinning

I am sorry faithful blog followers for such a delay. It has been a week since my last post. I had a pretty pitiful attitude most of the week which cramped my writing style. I had major writer's block and had no idea what to post about. I felt our lives had been pretty boring, and no one wants to read boring. I also didn't want to drag down the world by showing off my spectacularly bad attitude.

One of my best talents is being able to make small issues into big issues. When I start getting down, I can let some pretty minor things build up until I feel that life could not be more terrible. How can I get up tomorrow knowing I don't have sufficient counter space, storage, and flies creep in from who knows where? My tree drips sap all over my car, which yes is annoying, but not life threatening. ( I suppose that depends who you ask, my dad would be furious about such a catastrophe). I could go on and on about all the things that seemed to kick me while I was down this week. So, instead of thinking of all the reasons why I think life is awful, I decided to look back on this "boring" week and see if I could uncover some small happy things that I could spin into a week of epidemic happiness.

First and foremost, chemo treatment this week was a breeze for Mark. He did so well, even went to work the following day. Saturday, he felt good enough to ride his horse for awhile. Nevermind he did it with a knee brace on and barely had enough strength to throw the saddle on, he did and it made him happy. Next, daylight savings. Wahoo, now it doesn't get dark til after 7. To celebrate, we went to a friends house Monday after work and stood among his beautiful horses. I love horses. I haven't had the guts to be around them much after last years tragic incident. It felt good to watch them again. They all have their unique personalities. I loved petting their filthy winter coats.  Maybe someday I will have enough guts to ride again. I also finished the Book of Mormon late Monday night, and I am pretty happy I wasn't Moroni who watched an entire people vanish, leaving me to wander alone, in hiding, finding a good place to bury the plates.

Tuesday I was feeling pretty pitiful about my house. Sad I know, this house really isn't that bad. It can be funny, and it is ALWAYS entertaining. Spinning the tragedy that is my old house, I found some things to love about it. I got a new stove, after shattering 3 of 4 burners last fall. Darn glass tops aren't too resilient. But this week, I can walk into my kitchen and the new stove is gleaming and all four burners smile back. I don't have to clean my windows. They have been disgustingly dirty for 30 years and have water stains and moisture in between the panes. No amount of scrubbing will change that, and while I can't open my blinds and look out much, or even open them since they don't have screens or springs, I don't have to wash windows which is the worst of all spring cleaning. Seriously, I am pretty glad about that. My house is super small, and I can knock out the whole thing in a few hours. I am happy about that too. It is plenty of space for the two of us. And since it is dark and kind of looks dirty all the time, it hides a whole bunch of stuff. Above all, we are blessed with an amazing ward and friends. I have learned so much from my caring ward family. They never cease to amaze me. My drabby Tuesday attitude was washed away after I felt slightly domestic Tuesday afternoon. I learned how to make some rolls and awesome swedish meatballs from one of the most wonderful cooks I know. She sent me home with meals for a few nights. That was joy!

Wednesday's happiness came from family. My dad sent me a great talk, my mom had the stove delivered, my older brother called and sent me this picture that exudes happiness:

This kid doesn't pretend to be Buzz Lightyear--he IS Buzz Lightyear. I love that his face is full of concentration, which resulted in his impeccable form. Buzz reminded me of how great being a kid was and how you could be and do whatever it was you put your mind to. Reality had an entirely different meaning back then. I also got a kick out of this picture:

He is truly happy in this picture. I am happy I got to laugh at it and I am really happy that HIS mom got to clean it all up instead of me.

Thursday, I met with an old friend and went to lunch. If spinach artichoke dip can't bring instant joy, nothing can. They bring it out all sizzling and hot over crispy warm chips. Entirely worth the calories. We even got free drinks, and free drinks taste better than anything else! Another plus? Mark's numbers were good, so he came to my indoor soccer game with me. I love when we are able to go together. It was really a ploy for him to hit up 42 cent Wendy's which brought more happiness into his life than anything I could have done. He missed most of the game, but made it in time to see a kid on my team score off of a bicycle kick--in indoor soccer. The goals are tiny. I missed a whole bunch of wide open shots and this kid whips out a bicycle kick and hits the upper corner. It was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen in real life. Honest. That stuff only happens on TV. If only we had had a camera. Even Mark the soccer hater was pretty impressed. Thursday was also the day BYU managed to win during the first round of the NCAA tournament, a small miracle for us BYU lovers.

I guess this week wasn't all bad and not all that boring. It could be much worse. I am grateful Mark has felt so good and has made it to work everyday. My mother reminded me how awful it would be if he was bed-ridden and spent the whole day at home--with me playing nurse. Mark and I would have a tough time surviving that much "happiness." One of my greatest grateful moments came at the expense of my little brother. He is serving in Poland on his mission and has had some pretty crazy experiences. Here is what he did this week:

"I WILL NOT own a ranch with 13 dogs and 19 goats. NOT that cool, and really is NOT worth the little bucket of goat milk with hair. I swear that is all she is getting out of that place. That and lots of work and diseases. Yes, I had another unforgettable experience at the old Rancho. This one will be in history books for years to come under the title "Sedziszow Goat Massacre."

A very sad Teresa walked into church on Sunday to inform us of the grim news. The dogs had managed to get into the barn and kill all 9 male goats...the grimmer news...she needed our help. Well we're happy to help right??!!! That is what missionaries are for! So I pulled out my freshly cleaned clothes from the last farm experience and we headed out early yesterday morning. The job description was that we were going to load the goats into a big truck......it wasn't until we GOT to the farm that Teresa let us know about the change of plans. She led us into the barn were the victims laid. It was a mess. Unfortunately the next train home wasn't for another 6 hours... we were stuck. She told us the plans had changed and we needed to wheel the goats to the back where we would all participate in skinning them, quartering them, burying the guts, and preserving the meat. The coolest part is that we were doing this in secret. The dogs had killed the goats though Teresa had done all she could to board up the barn. It wasn't her fault. But I guess she could have gotten in serious trouble for animal cruelty and punished if someone found out???I don't know the truth....would she be in trouble or not, but that was her story. So now we were participating in a act of cover up. I felt like we were a part of a horrific murder case as I was deep in the woods digging a pit for the guts, and then led to the back of the house and handed a STEAK KNIFE to skin and gut the first victim. Within a few hours there was blood, heads and goats strewn all over the back of the yard. The stench UNBEARABLE. Ole' teresa, what a woman. She can do ANYthing. I was not as brave. Four missionaries, TWO pairs of rubber gloves. I carried and held legs apart, but I wasn't cutting anything. They had been lying there long enough and wasn't risking anything. Teresa was up to her elbows, we passed on her offer to make us lunch."

That story made me pretty happy. Mostly because it was him and not me. My little city boy had quite the new experience. I am amazed at his positive attitude. I am grateful to live where I live, even if it isn't always my ideal. I need to step back and realize I am so blessed. I think this method of spinning will be a good coping mechanism for myself. I would like to say I made it up all by myself, but I feel like there is already a hymn out there that talks about counting our blessings when we get discouraged or something like that. I suppose I am not as creative as I thought. Another thing I learned this week was that many of the things that brought a smile to my face had nothing to do with me. A friend was reunited with her dog after it went missing for days in busy Scottsdale, AZ. Another friend struggling with infertility had a positive week and after her second go at IVF, had a comforting ultrasound. Mark and I were also grateful this week to hear our little friend was doing well and starting baseball. We are rooting for you Ironman! We have yet to take off our bracelets and they are a constant reminder to both of us that we are never alone, in anyway. We take strength from these simple symbols. In addition to counting my blessings, forgetting myself might prove to be a pretty good fix.

The Cancer Card

Mark doesn't want me to post about this topic, he claims it will blow his cover. I feel that people can probably see through his devious plan regardless, plus I think it is pretty funny so I will blog away! Since the diagnosis, if Mark wants a certain tasty treat, doesn't want to put his socks in the hamper, or take his dishes to the sink, he pleasantly reminds me that he has cancer. This method is affectionately known as the cancer card. The cancer card is also played when I am tired and ready to go to bed, but he needs a back or foot massage. It was once used when he took out the garbage and only made it to the deck, the trash can was just too far for those cancer ridden legs. He knows I am a big softy, and I figure there should be some benefit to having cancer so I usually oblige. There are times when it is totally abused, but whatever he has cancer, what can I say?

I never thought I would see the day when I would abuse the cancer card. Those who know me can attest to the fact that I am too nice to say no. Whenever the Navy recruiter needed to make his phone call quota, he knew he could dial my house. I can't tell you how many times I gave the armed forces a soft answer that almost sounded like a yes. It is pretty scary to think I could be on some aircraft carrier right now because I didn't have the guts to say I wasn't that interested. It wasn't until I told the guy I was deathly afraid of the ocean, was 5'1'', and about 98 lbs that he figured I wouldn't be an asset. Many a time, Mark has had to bail us out of an agreement that I have made on the phone to be a lifetime Disney gold member, or the Deseret Book family video club, or some other nonsense that I couldn't say no to because I didn't want to hurt their feelings. I am getting better; I told the smelly, scary Hoover guy that wanted to clean my carpets last Saturday that I loved my carpets smelly and dirty and he wasn't getting in my house. (I have my pal Mandi to thank for this strong, powerful woman I have become.)

 While I am improving, you can't expect to run the marathon your first time out. The other night, Mark had played his card well and I went to the grocery store to satisfy his latest craving. A man was outside with signs about the Census. I thought he was wanting people to take the Census, and being the responsible, almost military personnel, American girl that I am, I stepped up to the plate. Little did I know he was looking for people to work as a Census taker. Not a good idea for me, I lasted a full 6 hours as a telemarketer back in the day. I tried to back pedal, but the nice old man wouldn't take no for an answer! I told him I had a job, I was super busy, and I was not qualified. He kept throwing out ideas about doing it after work, fitting it in at anytime, and that everyone was qualified. In absolute panic, I screamed, "My husband has cancer and my life is an absolute nightmare right now and the last thing I want to think about is the Census!" I did it. I shamefully played the cancer card. It worked like magic and it was his turn to back pedal. As I left the store a while later with my groceries, he once again apologized and wished us blessings and luck. Honestly, I felt slightly awful, but secretly relieved that I wouldn't have to go door to door.

Today was a chemo day. It went a hundred times better than the last time. Now that Mark is a few treatments in, they can push the drugs a little faster since his body is adjusting to them. His back poke was also a success. To help him relax, the doctor ordered some Ativan and Mark felt very happy afterwards. Not happy enough to agree to a puppy, but happy enough to not mind the procedure. The official procedure rating ended up at a 7/10, which is up from the 4. There is still room for improvement, Mark has a very tight back which makes for a spinal adventure. However, the larger needle didn't need to be enlisted and overall it went well. No headache! This is a special picture of "Happy Mark":

 

Awesome isn't it? With that cute shiney head, lovable smile, and positive attitude, how can you not cave into the cancer card? Please don't discount it if we use it in the future. Mark actually does need it at times and it really is one of our few perks of the whole ordeal!

Fasting Thoughts

I know most, if not all of you read this blog to see how Mark is doing. He is doing well, and there is no big changes so I thought I would post tonight about some things that have been on my mind lately. Mark and I sometimes sit back and try to make sense of things, myself probably more than Mark. He has more faith and trust than I do. This week my thoughts have centered around life's journey and lessons. It really doesn't make much sense at times. During Fast and Testimony meeting, I was struck with the realization that so much can happen in a month. Last month, we wanted to hold a special fast for our adoption, this month, our mind was in a completely different place. This is not exclusive to Mark and I. In seconds, we have seen countries recently rocked by quakes and thousands of lives changed.

When I consider all the events that seemed to fall in place beautifully for an adoption, it blows my mind that our road has changed so much. Why "waste" all that time and energy on that route only to see it abruptly hit a wall? I had a friend jokingly tease Mark about where his righteous living has gotten him. I sometimes, in anger, smirk at that irony myself. Why do we try so hard to figure things out and work so hard to do the right thing when so often, it seems in vain. At the end of the day, I feel like I have lacked understanding, been totally off base, and I am completely confused, especially when I really thought I was doing the right thing.  As I have mentioned before, the young women in our ward are reading the Book of Mormon to earn a trip to the General Young Women's meeting later this month. Many of them are reading and not understanding. I am sure they get frustrated with the challenge. I feel like the leaders have tried to teach them the importance of reading just to read, to get it done. I hope when they finish, they realize that at 12 years old, it isn't crucially important that they understood each word, that they grasped 2nd Nephi, but that they did it. They were obedient and they read it cover to cover. After preaching that to them throughout the process, it hit me this Fast Sunday that I needed to take my own advice.

It doesn't matter if I understand the whys or the whats that Mark and I will specifically learn from this experience. We (meaning mostly Mark) are confident that things will all be well in time, and sometimes I get hung up on what that actually means. I have no idea whether my idea of "all things well' is the same as the master plan, but maybe that isn't the important thing. I just need to be doing the right things whether I understand or not where they will take me. Perhaps this "righteous living" hasn't completely gotten us where we think we want yet, but where will it get us? I am beginning to understand more fully that this Gospel has never been and never will be about instant gratification. I loved Elder Bednar's October 2009 Conference talk on consistency. He talked about having family home evening and scripture study in their home and how there was not one defining spiritual moment, it was about the journey: "The consistency of our intent and work was perhaps the greatest lesson—a lesson we did not fully appreciate at the time." Through this ordeal, I am struggling with that particular lesson. I have to remind myself to take things one step at a time, be a little more obedient, and have a little more faith, even if I don't necessarily like the way it is being taught. I am not always thrilled about how things are going, but I am recommiting myself to being consistent and not worrying about the whys or the details.

Rarely, if ever, do we comprehend all the answers. There are some Gospel principles I grasp, but many more I do just because I am told to and I figure there must be some merit in just being obedient. I believe I know that in the end, it really will all be well. There are days and times when the Spirit witnesses that I am on the right path, and there are glimpses of the happiness in store. I doubt I know the extent of that happiness and how well all will be. If I did, this wouldn't be much of a struggle or a learning process.

Ok, off the soap box and back to life updates. Mark and I were able to make it to the cabin this weekend and we had an amazing time! It was fun to kick back and relax somewhere besides our house. Mark claims to get sick of our "bat cave" once in awhile. It is hard for me to imagine that (ahem), but since he is the cancer patient, what he says goes:) We had great food, good games, and the greatest company. I learned not to discount the first graders, one was directly responsible for our team putting down 2 out of 3 games of Sequence. I have never won Sequence at my parent's house; I think it is because I am usually paired with Mark and he never wins anything. Here is picture proof of my point. Mark is getting the Mario Kart beatdown!

Even the little one seems to be concerned that Mark can't place better than fourth. Mark, as long as you win the important battles, I will be satisfied.

Apparently, I have been quite enthralled with this post. Mark thought he heard a car door slam and went to check it out. As he walked through the kitchen he noticed some cookies on the kitchen table. Our trusty "guard dog" didn't even alert us to the fact that some eight year old neighbor girl knocked three times and busted into our kitchen. Slightly alarming, but quite funny. She left Mark a wonderful note of encouragement. We love our ward family! Even our primary kids are amazing. Shortly after the cookie bandit struck, we received this picture of two young men showing a different kind of support...

How cute are they!?! I noticed at church today a few other of the primary boys were sporting similar styles. We love you guys!

No news, good news

The last few days have been pretty normal. What we learned last appointment, however, was that now is the time to be more careful about infection. We pretty much had it backwards the first go around. The chemo meds affect his blood counts starting day 7. Mark has to take his temperature three times a day to make sure he doesn't have a fever. As soon as he feels the best is when we have to be the most aware. It is so bizarre. Mark had his blood work done today and his white blood cells were low. It is crazy! Last week they were 17.7, this week .7 Things change so fast. I was hoping he would be able to come to my soccer game tonight so that my team would believe that I was in fact married. I always talk about this mysterious Mark person, but since he never shows his face I bet they think I am making the whole thing up:) Since the indoor arena is quite possibly the dirtiest place ever, no amount of sanitizer and protection could have saved Mark's immune system. Maybe next time. For now I am the oldest person on the team who claimes to not be a loner.

Mark just got done telling me that the nurses at the office are downright pros. He has quite the collection of bruises and sore spots from his Monday beatdown. Today's blood draw was smooth as silk. He was so grateful for some gentleness.

In other news, we are hoping to go with some friends to a cabin this weekend. Mark and I will pretend we are going on a stellar vacation. We are quite excited and I hope he feels good enough to go. So far so good.

Two Hard Days

I knew it was coming, the time where things weren't quite so wonderful, and my attitude wasn't quite so optimistic. This weekend was long and tough. Mark's headache got worse with each passing hour, and since it was the weekend, there was not much we could do. He tried to go to church, but only lasted long enough to take the sacrament. He spent basically two whole days flat on his back. We tried taking pills, drinking caffiene, but nothing helped. Just laying flat and that was even fading. Even to get up to go the bathroom became a challenge. The pain got so intenese, he started to throw up. It was hard to see him so miserable. My dad came over and gave Mark a blessing last night and he was able to get a good sleep. This morning, he had an epidrual blood patch done and it immediately helped his symptoms subside. This time, the back poke didn't seem to bug him that much. The 20ccs of blood they pulled was the tough part. That is a lot of blood. They had to pull from both arms to get enough. He was pretty sore all day and slept the rest of the afternoon. Mark wants to be a pin cushion for Halloween, he has been practicing well. He is grateful to be sitting up tonight, so the few holes were totally worth it.

This weekend was emotional for me. Despite the front I put on, especially on this blog, it isn't always easy. Sometimes things get to me and I have to take a moment or two to cry and vent. These past few weeks have gone by so fast, but they also seemed so long. It has consumed our lives. I hate looking back to when this wasn't the norm and thinking of all the things we were getting excited about. It is hard to put those things on the back burner. I know I need to remain positive and hope those things will happen one day. I felt I was impatient before, and now I am being forced to be even more patient. This weekend I even had some fears that I hate acknowledging, so I won't. I know this week will be better. I know tomorrow will be better. I hate to wish time away because it goes so fast, but I am truly grateful that it is passing. This week will be my "What about Bob" week. Baby steps to 4 o'clock, baby steps to bedtime, baby steps to Tuesday, baby steps to Friday, baby steps to spring, and baby steps to the summer of remission.