What Will You Gain?...

The past few days I've continued to think about the Special K advertising campaign that says "What will you gain when you lose?"  It sounds ridiculous that with all the support Brad, Avery and I have had, I feel like I need to put extra time focusing on this campaign to lift my spirits and think about the big picture of what our family is gaining during Brad's bone marrow transplant process. 

Today is Day -6.  If you're unfamiliar with how a transplant works, the days start out negative, counting down the number of days of conditioning treatment a patient has before receiving new, healthy stem cells on Day 0.  Brad started off at Day -8.  Today begins the transplant process for Brad's brother Chad.  For the next 5 days, Chad will go to the transplant clinic to get a Neupogen/Neulasta shot to help him produce the extra white blood cells needed to help make this transplant a success.  On Monday, Chad will donate his cells in a process that will take anywhere from 6-8 hours.  If he's able to donate enough on Monday, Brad will receive them on Tuesday, which is predicted as Day 0 for him.  Yep, May 6th is Brad's anticipated re-birthday and we need him to healthfully get to +100 days, which are the most critical days for engraftment of the new cells in his marrow.

Brad has had 3 radiation treatments already since Monday night and is beginning to feel the side effects.  He has started to lose his taste and says his throat feels like it's getting smaller.  Hearing him say this is confirmation he's likely beginning to develop the anticipated mouth/throat sores that will continue to get worse over the next several days before he begins chemo on Saturday.

While I know this process is a grueling one and I'm trying to be strong, I can't help but feel so weak and helpless right now.  I want to be present every second Brad's in the hospital, but know that's impossible.  I feel like I've "lost" him, our son Avery, our dog Max, our friends, our church, our home...you know...everything that's comfortable and familiar.  The reality is, nearly all of those things are even more present than ever before.  I keep telling myself that this is a temporary situation and I need to stop feeling so emotional about it.  Brad has been fighting this fight for 4 1/2 years and this transplant is his chance to stop fighting.  Certainly, I can do anything for 100 days, particularly for the man I love most in this world.

Since Brad's diagnosis, my faith has continued to grow and become stronger, a journey that is reminding me daily of God's grace.  I think about so many decisions I made when I was younger that I wish I could relive and have a "do over."  As I have continued to think about what I'm losing to gain, I've also been thinking about what He lost so we could gain and am reminded of John 3:16  "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life." 

Thank you Lord for all the blessings You present before me every day.  Even when things are tough, I know Your hand is on my family and we are being protected by You during this storm.  I ask You to calm my anxious heart and give me strength to have faith and hope in this process as you heal Brad.  Continue to watch over Avery and show Your presence while we are away.  I'm asking all this in Your name.  Amen.

+100 days.  I've got this.  We've got this. What are you gaining on the days you feel like you're losing?

Blessings,
Sandy

p.s. If you're looking to help support my Relay For Life goal of selling 100 luminary bags, each one representing the 100 days of good health for Brad, click HERE.  Your bag will be displayed at the Roanoke Relay For Life event on Friday, May 16th.  Each bag is only $10 and is a tax deductible donation.  So far, 58 bags have been purchased!!  Help me light up the track at Northside High School and raise money for the American Cancer Society's fight against cancer.  Thank you for considering a donation!

That's What Faith Can Do...

Have you ever had the feeling that you're receiving the same message over and over?  It can be as simple as a tugging at your heart to go out and do something, a phrase or bible verse that keeps popping up in places you wouldn't expect it or turning on the radio and hearing the song?  You know the song that has become a cornerstone in your life and seems to present itself at life's pivotal moments?  Since Brad's cancer journey began in December of 2009, that song has been the Kutless song, That's What Faith Can Do.  If you're not familiar with it, listen to it here: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WTNBWv33-QI

I remember shortly after Brad's diagnosis, changing the radio station from my normal country music station to our local Christian station and this was the song playing on the radio.  It hit me in the heart so much I had to pull off the road because I couldn't stop sobbing.  For us, this song has certainly become the song and I haven't changed the radio station since. 

Time has come and gone so quickly since my last blog entry in January after sharing the news that Brad will be having a bone marrow transplant due to another relapse.  Each successive return of this horrible disease has become significantly more aggressive and it's really the only option remaining for a potentially cancer free life. 

Since January, Brad has gone through chemo here in Roanoke to put his cancer into remission in order to take the steps necessary to push us forward to transplant.  On Monday, April 7th, we received the news we've been waiting for.  Brad's treatments were successful and he is currently showing no activity so off to transplant we go. 

On Monday we returned to Duke for pre-transplant work-up.  Brad and his brother Chad (who's his donor) spent the day being poked, prodded, x-rayed and talked to about the upcoming procedure.  As a complete side note, Chad has done an amazing job of caring for his and Brad's soon to be marrow.  We like to refer to him as Brad's "marrow daddy".  Although it took us by surprise, the date for the transplant was set and we officially head to Duke on April 27th.  Nine days from today.  Yep.  Nine days from today.  We'll get checked into the hotel and Brad will be in surgery at 7:00am on the 28th to get his Hickman catheter installed and his existing port removed, with his intense radiation beginning the same day.  Durham, NC; our new home for at least 100 days.

When we left Duke on Monday and were heading back home, Brad stopped at a gas station so we could grab a couple drinks and a snack.  When I returned to the car after a very full day, guess what was playing on the radio?  You guessed it!  The song.  I'm not gonna lie, I'm scared to death.  I repeatedly run the statistics and success rates through my head and then I counterbalance it with the statistics presented if Brad doesn't have the transplant.  It's an easy decision and I have faith that the God I serve has a plan for Brad and our family and that this journey is a destination yet to be discovered.  I honestly feel like it would take about a million blog entries to fully explain how I'm feeling about all the thoughts and emotions that incessantly run through my head.  Instead of writing all those blogs though, for now, I'm just going to have faith.  Gotta run...there's a song I'm dying to hear.

Hugs,

Sandy