Dad Update

Hey friends, I am writing to let you know how dad is doing.  He is finished with his first round of radiation and won't go in again for it until his next scan on October 11.  And he was slowed and not in pain during his treatment.

But his back, which was causing him trouble earlier this summer, has nearly crippled him this past week.  From cooking us breakfast and attending ballgames with us a few weeks prior, he is now hardly able to walk, not able to lay down to sleep, and in near constant pain, even with heavy pain meds.

They did an MRI on his back when he was in the hospital when they first found his brain tumors.  With the brain and the spine both being part of the central nervous system, it is highly likely that he has tumors in his spine as well as his brian, and they wanted to rule that out.  They found nothing.  And he was still able to get around, although slowed and stiffly, so we assumed it was a bulging disk and it would heal on its own.

But it has gotten terribly worse this past week.  With his cancer being so aggressive, this either has to be related, or it is simply a cruel joke, that a man dying of cancer should have to spend his last days in agony over a bulging disk.  Either way, I hate it.  Aside from hardly being able to walk, his poor feet are so swollen that he can't wear shoes.  This may be a side effect from the tapering off of the steroid drug he was on, or from the fact that he has to sleep sitting up because of his back pain.  Either way, I hate it.

He went in for an MRI at the end of last week, but was in too much pain to lay still for the duration of the scan.  After increasing his pain meds, he was able to sit through the third attempt at a scan and we are awaiting results and a new treatment plan.

The hardest part of this for us has been that we don't know if it's a temporary pain, or the final pain.  You know, the pain of labor and childbirth is endurable only because of the joy that follows.  The pain of injury or illness is tolerable when you know it is temporary.  We do not know that in this case, so it is hard not to despair over it.  Will he recover and we will have more weeks or months enjoying his company or will this be the pain that takes him down?  That is the agonizing question we cannot answer.  At least not yet.  Hopefully answers are coming.

Now that I have dragged you through my darkest thoughts (if you know me well, you know when it comes to emotions, I do not hide my thoughts, and when it comes to suffering, I do not suffer silently), I want to also encourage you that there is still so much good.

Even my dad, when he is not in pain, is still his same old, joking self, and still trying to help where he can.  And there are sweet, joyful moments even during this.  This weekend, my mom's side of the family, at least those who live in Texas, got together for dinner.  My cousin and his wife brought their brand-new three-week-old baby for us all to hold and love on.  So precious.  And there is love and laughter and joy and shared stories.

Between the MRI scan and the arrival of family for dinner, the kids and I had a chance (and a need) for a nap.  It was one of those moments that you just savor and want to remember forever.  I even felt inspired to write a little poem as I lay there, not sleeping, thinking of how God blesses us, even in the midst of hard times:

Happiness is the sound of my kids' sweet breathing while they sleep

And the ceiling fan gently knocking back and forth as it cools

And the sunlight sneaking in through the slats in the blinds while we snuggle at nap time

(And yes, Abby's eyes are darkened because Mimi gave her black eyeshadow and mascara to play with.  Sheesh!)

Thank you for your prayers and the fact that you love me and support me even though I am completely wrapped up in myself and my family these days.  Keep the prayers coming!  We sure need them!