A Different Patient

Being the excellent nurse that I am....ahem, I often get frustrated with my patients. I get after Mark once in awhile for not being a better patient. He has been better recently, very low maintenance. He still isn't very good about telling me what he wants or needs until desperation sets in. His biggest complaint is getting hungry. If it is not satisfied immediately, Mark gets sick and irritable. It appears to be a manageable problem, except that he can never decide what he wants to eat or what he wants me to make. I feel we have a daily dinner argument that usually results in him cooking a hot dog on the bbq. I think we are grateful for warmer weather that allows for grilling.

Mark received his 6th cycle of chemotherapy today. Two more to go. It is crazy to think how close we are to being done. He was not very excited about going today. The first words he uttered, "I don't want to go today." That is the kind of communication that I am looking for! Knowing today could have been the last had it not been in his bone marrow was a little frustrating for him. I know that I am not the one enduring treatment, but I am grateful he has two more. Lets take it all down at once. I am fearful of the future a little bit. I have nightmares of resurgence. I am pretty good now at dealing with the present. Overall, today went well. I, however, missed most of it. As one patient gets better, another, more difficult one has emerged.

I am nervous about sharing this next story for two reasons. The first, having the rest of you laugh at me because, yes my dog at the moment is my child. For those of you with actual children, or who do not love animals with the same zeal, I will probably look pretty silly. The second has to do with the good people on the other side of this unfortunate incident. They have been really great and I don't want to paint them as villains. They have been wonderfully concerned and helpful, accepting responsibility. There are no winners that's for sure.

My sweet golden retriever and I were on a walk Tuesday night, and got attacked by a pretty big dog. It was pretty terrifying, and I handled with the greatest of hysterics. I am realizing that I am not great at emergencies--really glad I didn't choose to be an ambulance person or something of that nature. I had Roxy leashed and we were walking home when this angry dog comes flying from the backyard of a house across the street. I knew he was more interested in Roxy than me. She is the most timid, loving dog out there and I knew she was in trouble. I stuck her behind me to shield her and yell at the other dog. It didn't phase him at all. He went through me, and immediately took Roxy down. I felt sheer panic as I tried everything to get that dog off mine. Roxy screamed, the other dog shook. I was feeling pretty helpless at the moment and was sure my dog was going to die as I stood and watched. Fortunately, the owner was in his yard and got to us pretty quickly to restrain his dog. Roxy was hurt, I was emotional, and we headed home. To top it all off, I was already late picking up Mark from the airport. He had been in Dallas on business (yes, he is feeling that well!). I didn't have time to inspect her or gather my senses before I rushed down to get Mark.

When we got home, we found a mess. The wounds were deep and she was very sore, unwilling to walk. I cleaned her up and sat with her until morning. Roxy spent most of Wednesday at the vet getting stitched up from the inside out. I am happy to report that she is doing well. I am still not totally at peace despite the fact she has done very well today, even walking. She is at a high risk for infection and currently has a drain in place. She has to be watched constantly to make sure she isn't pulling it out, licking it, and not being too active. So, now I am playing nurse to a dog. Like Mark, she doesn't communicate all that well, but she is pretty sure she wants to eat dog food for breakfast and dinner. She can't read her instruction sheet or take her medications on her own, but Mark isn't very good at that either. I have to read the bottles to him too. When unsupervised, Roxy gets to wear this:

I thought these only existed in movies. She isn't to fond of "the cone of shame" and I can't say that I blame her. I have had a few laughs at her expense, she doesn't seem to understand the radius of the cone. She constantly scares herself by running into the walls or doors. I felt pretty bad for her when I saw her trying to drink with it on; the cone hit the floor and her mouth was a good few inches from the bowl. I have kept a close eye on her to minimize cone use, I feel like she has suffered enough. This picture doesn't give it justice, but does give you a sense of why she acts a little sore:

This picture refuses to center--sorry. Anyway, the drain you can see is just above her elbow. She has a few puncture wounds underneath the armpit. Around the drain is still open wound, we hope that can be closed Monday. Like I said, the picture doesn't give it justice. She definitely took one for the team. It is pretty cliche, but Roxy is my best friend and a loyal companion. The night of Mark's diagnosis, Roxy knew something was wrong and wouldn't leave my side. She was there when I just needed a good cry and some comfort. I hate to see my friends hurt.

Sorry for those of you wanting to see pictures of Mark. He was by far the boring patient this week. He is feeling great, even decided to get some dirt moved out in the garden tonight. I tried to convince him that it had rained all day and the dirt was mud, but he wants it all ready for planting. I wonder who he thinks will eat all those vegetables. Roxy and I are pretty much anti-vegetable. My dad suggested putting the cone on Mark to see if it would slow him down--not a bad idea.

In closing, hopefully this post is long and exciting enough to make up for the fact I forgot to blog for two weeks. I didn't notice it had been that long until I got on to post this one. I will try to conjure up more excitement and write more frequently. I hope it is good excitement. This sick and afflicted stuff is getting old. Now that our part of the adoption process is officially over, I hope the next news we hear in that regard is much happier than what we have been dealing with. We continue to appreciate the love and support, the kind words, and comments.

New Balance

I like to pretend I am a runner. I am one of those runners who have a love/hate relationship with the sport. I love when I am done, I hate when it is on the "to do" list. I also run to finish, not to win. I like to plod around and hack out a few miles and if it takes me twice as long as others, I usually feel ok about that. I remember when I ran my first marathon, I was warming up at the starting line with an elderly man in a full back brace. I got a little nervous about receiving the beatdown from him, and that was the most pressure I have put on myself in a race---"don't finish last, don't let the guy in traction beat me."

When Mark got sick, I decided it would be cool to do another marathon and to do it for a purpose. I am only a few weeks into training, and I don't know if "cool" is the word I would use to describe it anymore. I don't remember it being this laborious and painful the first time around. I can only remember how good it felt to say I had actually finished it. I must have selective memory. I have learned one thing from running, shoes matter! Shoes can make or break me, my body doesn't love the strain running puts on it, but it is bearable with a good pair of shoes. I always try to wear my old ones too long, and I always regret it. This year was no different. My joints were killing me as I trudged in my heavily worn, but rather attractive shoes. I should care more about performance than appearance, but I am a girl, and I do have a slight matching fetish. I swore to myself a long time ago that I would never own a pair of New Balances because they are ugly and have this huge "N" on the side of the shoe. They couldn't come up with a better logo? Didn't some kid come up with the Nike swoosh? Aren't there people whose job it is to brand things? Really, the best you could come up with is a huge "N"? Alas, here are my new shoes:

I hate to say it, but I love them. They are incredibly comfortable and my hips are so glad.  As I stared at the unfortunate branding the other night, I decided this is exactly what Mark and I are trying to do with our lives, we are trying to find a "new balance." I feel like the last few months have gone so fast. Our lives flipped upside down, but it is now finding itself back on track, in balance. There is a definite light at the end of this tunnel. However, I don't think it will ever officially leave. Mark and I are different now. Our home visit is this next week, and it might change our lives more so than anything else we have ever had to deal with yet. I go back to work soon and it feels like obstacles are flying from every direction. I hope that whatever happens in the next few months, Mark and I are able to figure out how to maintain balance in our lives, a good "new balance."

Mark had his fifth cycle of chemotherapy yesterday.  He is officially on the downhill slide. We are so grateful to have a clinic here that can provide Mark with everything he needs. Mark gets treated right in the clinic. Here is a picture of the room:

We are quite partial to the corner chair. It is ours, we have to have it each time. It is amazing that most days, all these chairs are filled. There is a whole row of chairs on the other side of the room as well. We love to meet people as they come and go. Everyone's treatment is different, and some people aren't there as long as others. Mark seems like he is there all day, and we have gotten to meet a lot of people that way. His body is used to the medication now, and yesterday the infusions went the quickest yet. We got there at 9, and left a little before 3. Not bad considering the first time we went I thought we were going to have to spend the night. Mark's in his spot, chatting with our rockstar nurse. We love her!

Mark wanted me to take a picture of his port in use. Perhaps to prove that he really doesn't have a third nipple and it really is a port. I secretly think he wanted to show off the amazing figure. Ok, it actually is pretty cool how convenient the port is. They connect this to the IV drip and he sleeps while everything else does all the work.

I know that I have not been posting as frequently. Take it as good news, our lives are truly kind of boring day to day. Pretty normal stuff, which I am trying to learn to appreciate better. Once again, thank you all for thinking of us and keeping tabs on us. We have had a wonderful outpouring from family, friends, and even strangers. Mark and I feel insignificantly important. We are just two regular people who have seen some pretty amazing things and have been greatly blessed by a loving Heavenly Father. He loves us, is mindful of us, and we are important to Him. I hope we can do our part in return.

Near Complete Resolution

How awesome are those words? Mark's body loves chemotherapy. As thought, he has responded unbelievably to treatment and his PET scan came back as clean as a scan could. In fact, had he not have had a positive bone marrow biopsy, we would have been done. His scan looked completely normal. I think the word the doctor used was "boring." Mark and I are back to being boring people!  He will continue to have 8 total treatments, so 4 more, but only to ensure that it won't come back. There wasn't even residual scar tissue really, so at this point, radiation therapy might not have to happen after all!

It was bizarre to see the before and after pictures, I wish I had them and I would post them. That ugly, massive, "blob of evilness" (that was what my friend called it the other day, and I loved it!) is gone. It grew in a matter of weeks, and just as fast, faded away into history. Miracles have not ceased, fasting and prayers are answered, and modern medicine is incredible. I want to thank you all for your fasting, prayers, and faith. Mark's progress is a direct result of it I am sure. I feel like our lives might actually be normal again, sooner rather than later. Our cancer card has an expiration date! We better start using it more:)

If that news wasn't happy enough, here is another dose of joy. Our home visit is now scheduled and is right around the corner. That is our official last step in our adoption home study. After that, we will hopefully be approved for adoption. That is the best news of all. Mark will be dad, I will be a mom. does it get any better than that? I hope we aren't viewed as damaged goods, we will just show them the after pictures!

I am so happy right now that I am only slightly upset that it is snowing outside. I am also really glad that today was no April Fool's joke. It is nice to get some good news and positivity happening.

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!