There hasn't been much to report since Brad's surgery last Wednesday. We were told we should find out today what type and stage of lymphoma Brad has and so we've patiently waited for the past seven, long days. Guess what we found out? That we have to wait another seven days for the results.
Dr. Harter's nurse called Brad today and confirmed that he "100% has lymphoma". Really? Are you serious? I thought all of these tests were just for kicks and to see how high one's stress threshold can be pushed. The nurse then told Brad that all of his results have been given to Dr. Fintel (Brad's Oncologist). Brad's first appointment with "Chemo Man", as Brad lovingly refers to Dr. Fintel, isn't until next Wednesday and so we will continue to wait for another long week to find out all the details that will answer so many of our questions. I honestly don't know how Brad can be so patient through all of this - he seems to find the bright side to everything and has now convinced me and his parents that if he had received any additional information today, it would have created more questions that couldn't be answered until next Wednesday. As much as I hate to admit it, he is right.
Brad has been quite ill this week, not related to his cancer, just the general crud that everybody else has and went to our doctor to get an antibiotic earlier this week. I guess if there was ever a time that he was going to be sleeping on the couch, while he continues to recover from his surgery and has this coughing, hacking, junk, now seems as good a time as ever. I hope he's better soon and back to a normal sleeping routine (and location!).
We went out to lunch this past Sunday with Brad's parents. Brad's fortune from his fortune cookie was definitely one for us to keep. It read: "Do not give up, the beginning is always the hardest."
It's strange to put faith in little pieces of paper, random quotes on a calendar or songs that come on at the right time on the radio, but we definitely believe there is a higher power watching out for Brad and our family right now. Please pray that I can muster the patience to help Brad through it all and continue to guide Avery as his questions begin to surface.
We may not have much to write about during the next week, but will certainly update you all should something pop up. Happy New Year!
Love,
Sandy
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
The Wirt's Top 10 Things To Be Thankful For...
10. All the foods we have been craving have been delivered or drop shipped to our house.
9. We now know the side effects that anesthesia has on Brad.
8. We're confident that the financial savings we will have on disposable razors once Brad begins chemotherapy will far outweigh the financial burden of his illness.
7. Our "new" bargain couch that we found at a yard sale late this summer - Brad finds it extremely comfy and it's the only place he can sleep since surgery.
6. Early detection and the prognosis for a healthy recovery.
5. Second opinions.
4. Getting major procedures completed before Brad's insurance changes January 1st.
3. Flexible employers who understand that "life happens" and who are supportive when it does.
2. A strong, supportive, incredibly sensitive son.
1. The love, thoughts and prayers that we have received from all of our family and friends and our knowledge that we could not get through this without each of you.
Ouch...
For those of you who may not know anybody with a seizure disorder, epilepsy, like cancer comes in many forms. I have what is called "absence seizures" which are small seizures that typically last only a few seconds and are kinda like little "spacey" episodes. If I were speaking to you and one occurred (which happens daily), you probably wouldn't recognize it. Throughout the years since my diagnosis in 2003, Brad has gotten excellent at detecting when I am having one and encouraging me to rest when it does.
It's apparent that the stress of Brad's recent diagnosis is having an impact on my epilepsy. The "triggers" that can encourage a seizure for one with epilepsy include: severe illness (often times with fever), being extremely tired, overly stressed and extreme heat. For me, when the right combination of items come together it triggers the more familiar grand mal seizures, which are the larger, convulsing kind, that people more often think of when they think about epilepsy.
Yesterday, in an attempt to get back on track with running so I can train for a half marathon that I am registered to run in April and to relieve some stress, I decided I was going to run on our treadmill at home. I was even wearing my new favorite running pants that Santa lovingly brought me the day before! I decided to make it a short run of 3.1 miles. I know that I was near the end of my run and happily blasting the soundtrack to the show GLEE! in my face, when I woke up to Brad screaming at me.
Yep, you guessed it - I had a grand mal seizure while running. I was out cold (at least that's what Brad tells me) and had been completely thrown from the treadmill. I'm assuming it's the stress, combined with the heat from running and being a little tired. When Brad finally got me to get up off the floor so he could get me to a chair to sit for a moment, I realized I was pretty knocked up. On the outside of each of my hands I have missing layers of skin. I'm pretty banged and bruised up all over and in general, quite sore. After a grand mal seizure occurs, one is exhausted and quite literally, I spent the rest of the day in bed. Since we're getting so good at taking pictures of the good, the bad and the ugly, yep, those are my hands in today's blog.
Remember a couple entries ago I mentioned that Brad needed a good ole' fashion sobbing session? Well, he did tell me he cried his eyes out when he heard me go down on the treadmill and raced down to our basement. While not the most optimal of circumstances, I told Brad that maybe my seizure was God's way of making him cry so that he could relieve some stress. Brad was hoping for another route.
We're hoping to leave our house today after literally not stepping foot outside for the past several days. I'm fine and Brad has stopped taking his pain medicine from his surgery so he's awake and making a little more sense now. If you hear of a happy-go-lucky couple in Roanoke getting run over by a bus today, assume it was us. All jokes aside, thanks for your continued thoughts and prayers.
Hugs,
Sandy
Friday, December 25, 2009
Merry Christmas from the Wirts
Imagine our beautiful singing voices - singing directly to you!
"We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas
and a Happy New Year!!"
Today is a day of celebration, yet it brings a tremendous amount of sadness for me. I woke up in the night to check on Brad, give him some additional pain medication, etc... He came to cuddle for a few minutes in our bed because he has had to sleep on the couch since he had surgery a couple of days ago. He was only able to stay for a few minutes because it was too painful, but I totally broke down. Here we were in the middle of the night, preparing for Santa's arrival to our home and I was crying like a baby.
I was hoping the feeling would be better when I woke up this morning, but as soon as I read Brad's Christmas card to me, the faucet turned back on again. While I tried not to cry today since it's Christmas morning, it was uncontrollable and it triggered for Avery as well. This morning was the first time Avery cried. If anybody was driving past our home at 5:00 this morning because of all the excitement normally associated with Christmas, they would have thought we were a bit out of the ordinary. Avery and I were crying our eyes out and we were all standing in front of the Christmas tree hugging for about 5 minutes.
Last night Avery went to the evening church service with Grandma and Gran. He said he really wanted to spend time with them since he hasn't had much alone time with them lately - this made them very happy! Avery got to light the candles for the service with another little girl named Sara. Avery said she was so cute that he almost gave her his cell phone number but changed his mind because it didn't seem appropriate at church. After church, when Avery came home, he shared that he was really scared and sad about Dad's cancer. Avery hasn't talked much about it and I can now tell that he's beginning to understand some of the things we talked about when Brad was first diagnosed. We want to continue reinforcing with him that it's ok to talk about his feelings and that it's also ok to feel sad and scared. I guess I did a pretty good job expressing that a few hours ago when I was an emotional basket case.
Brad's bandage was removed yesterday and this morning his butterfly bandage came off while we were opening Santa's gifts. The removal revealed about a 3-4 inch incision where the lymph node was removed. Brad doesn't like people looking at at because he's afraid he will gross people out. Brad asked Avery and I yesterday if we were going to be embarrassed to be seen with him once his chemotherapy becomes a visual sign of his illness. I have never been more proud to be seen with such a strong man and I'm confident my pride is about to grow by about a gazillion times. Avery said he didn't care if all the people in the world came together and started talking about the way his Dad looked. Avery went on to say that he would stick up for Dad and help protect him and that he could never be embarrassed. He is such a cool and amazing kid.
On the upside, we're already talking about the "after party" we're going to have when Brad is feeling well. Appropriately, it will be called the "Kicked Ass and Took Chemo" party. Consider yourselves officially invited.
Because it's Christmas (sorry this entry is a bit of a downer), I want to share today's quote from Avery's Fearless calendar. It reads:
Love,
Sandy
"We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas
and a Happy New Year!!"
Today is a day of celebration, yet it brings a tremendous amount of sadness for me. I woke up in the night to check on Brad, give him some additional pain medication, etc... He came to cuddle for a few minutes in our bed because he has had to sleep on the couch since he had surgery a couple of days ago. He was only able to stay for a few minutes because it was too painful, but I totally broke down. Here we were in the middle of the night, preparing for Santa's arrival to our home and I was crying like a baby.
I was hoping the feeling would be better when I woke up this morning, but as soon as I read Brad's Christmas card to me, the faucet turned back on again. While I tried not to cry today since it's Christmas morning, it was uncontrollable and it triggered for Avery as well. This morning was the first time Avery cried. If anybody was driving past our home at 5:00 this morning because of all the excitement normally associated with Christmas, they would have thought we were a bit out of the ordinary. Avery and I were crying our eyes out and we were all standing in front of the Christmas tree hugging for about 5 minutes.
Last night Avery went to the evening church service with Grandma and Gran. He said he really wanted to spend time with them since he hasn't had much alone time with them lately - this made them very happy! Avery got to light the candles for the service with another little girl named Sara. Avery said she was so cute that he almost gave her his cell phone number but changed his mind because it didn't seem appropriate at church. After church, when Avery came home, he shared that he was really scared and sad about Dad's cancer. Avery hasn't talked much about it and I can now tell that he's beginning to understand some of the things we talked about when Brad was first diagnosed. We want to continue reinforcing with him that it's ok to talk about his feelings and that it's also ok to feel sad and scared. I guess I did a pretty good job expressing that a few hours ago when I was an emotional basket case.
Brad's bandage was removed yesterday and this morning his butterfly bandage came off while we were opening Santa's gifts. The removal revealed about a 3-4 inch incision where the lymph node was removed. Brad doesn't like people looking at at because he's afraid he will gross people out. Brad asked Avery and I yesterday if we were going to be embarrassed to be seen with him once his chemotherapy becomes a visual sign of his illness. I have never been more proud to be seen with such a strong man and I'm confident my pride is about to grow by about a gazillion times. Avery said he didn't care if all the people in the world came together and started talking about the way his Dad looked. Avery went on to say that he would stick up for Dad and help protect him and that he could never be embarrassed. He is such a cool and amazing kid.
On the upside, we're already talking about the "after party" we're going to have when Brad is feeling well. Appropriately, it will be called the "Kicked Ass and Took Chemo" party. Consider yourselves officially invited.
Because it's Christmas (sorry this entry is a bit of a downer), I want to share today's quote from Avery's Fearless calendar. It reads:
December 25This calendar may be one of the best gifts I got, I mean Avery got this year. Thank you for your continued thoughts and prayers. Merry, merry Christmas to each of you.
"There's a stampede of fear out there. Let's not get caught in it. Let's be among those who stay calm."
Love,
Sandy
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Surgery Was A Success!
So we know Brad is a pretty funny guy, but you should see him under anesthesia. Holy crow, was he hysterical! Besides his facial expressions, him passing gas in front of a really attractive nurse, his slow motion conversations and giggling uncontrollably like he was intoxicated - today was a success. We are so blessed to have such a comical Dr. and one who really connects to his patients. Brad said the last thing the anesthesiologist said to him before he passed out was to breathe in some of the wonderful West Virginia air that he had for Brad. Sorry if you're from WV, but Brad was still laughing about it a few hours ago.
As was anticipated, today (yesterday?) was a bit of an emotional day. While it was wonderful to see this "thing" that has been part of Brad for so long now removed - (goodbye BOB), it's also scary to think about what lies ahead. After surgery, Dr. Harter came out to talk to all of us - me, Mom & Dad, and Chad (Brad's twin brother). Dr. Harter stressed again that Brad will do well with recovery, but that chemotherapy is going to be a "tough road" ahead of us. I'm fearful for the effects it will have on Brad, but it's most important to focus on the end result - wellness.
We anticipate the results of the more in depth biopsy on Wednesday, December 30th. With these results, we should be able to find out specifically what type of lymphoma Brad has, as well as what stage he is in. Brad's first appointment with his Oncologist will be on January 6th. We continued to hear that Dr. William Fintel is one of the best Oncologists in Roanoke so of course, that's who we wanted to connect with. An appointment had been set up with somebody else for this coming Tuesday, but it was canceled once we requested Dr. Fintel. I expect that Dr. Fintel and Brad will have an IMMEDIATE connection. After Googling him tonight, I found out that he's a UVA graduate - how ironic! Dr. Fintel will soon meet one of UVA's biggest fans and I can't wait to tell Brad since he's still kinda stupid "drunk" from the anesthesia and pain meds. Knowing Brad, he will show up to his appointment all decked out in orange and blue. Sorry to all the Hokies following and/or reading the blog, but if you know Brad, then you also know about his passion for UVA.
We gave Avery this really cool calendar prior to Brad going in to surgery. It's based on Max Lucado's book, Fearless, a book about what life would look like if one lived without fear. It's one of those calendars that folds like a little triangle and you just flip the daily page. We thought this may be a great thing for Avery to keep near his bed and to read each morning and night to continue harvesting happy, fearless thoughts in his adorable little head. Appropriately, here was yesterday's verse:
December 23
"I tell you not to worry about everyday life - whether you have enough food and drink, or enough clothes to wear. Isn't life more than food, and your body more than clothing?"
- Matthew 6:25
I received the sweetest e-mail message today from one of my Program Leaders who graduated in 2006 - thank you Dominique for your support and encouragement. Ironically, her message was delivered while Brad was in surgery, so it was even more meaningful. From her e-mail:
"To get something you never had, you have to do something you never did. When God takes something from your grasp, He's not punishing you, but merely opening your hands to receive something better. The will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you."
While I'm not normally a spiritual person in the religious sense of the word, I would consider myself very rooted in faith - faith of the human spirit, faith in perseverance and faith that most people in life truly want to be good people and do good things. Avery's calendar verse and Dominique's message both brought me to tears today and once again reminded me that we are going to come out of this stronger and better than ever.
While I'm not normally a spiritual person in the religious sense of the word, I would consider myself very rooted in faith - faith of the human spirit, faith in perseverance and faith that most people in life truly want to be good people and do good things. Avery's calendar verse and Dominique's message both brought me to tears today and once again reminded me that we are going to come out of this stronger and better than ever.
Today's pic is the "Phase 2" pic of Brad and Avery. Notice their matching hoodies? A wonderful gift from Karen, one of our dearest family friends when we celebrated Christmas together the night before Brad's surgery. Like father, like son - I love those two more than I ever dreamed possible.
Although it certainly doesn't feel like Christmas this year, our family has many, many gifts and each of you are part of them. Merry Christmas (or happy whatever holiday you celebrate!) to you and those who are important to you!
Many big hugs,
Sandy
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
It's Been Fun BOB
Well this is my very first blog I have ever done so if my grammar or spelling looks to be like a 3rd grader then we will blame it on BOB. I will go into detail how BOB and I met a little later but in the meantime let me catch you up to date since Sandy's last blog.
Tuesday morning 12/22 I woke up with a very bad sore throat and I just felt a little crummy. So I started chugging orange juice and popping Tylenol so I would hopefully feel better for my surgery today but as of right now I still feel like crap. If you run into Dr. Harter today please let him know I feel like a million bucks. Anyway back to the story.
After going to work I was pleasantly surprised to find out that my employees had made a huge lunch for me to wish me good luck and to know that they were thinking of me. All week long they had been asking questions about what kind of snacks I liked and foods that I loved. They even called Sandy to let her know what they were doing and to see if she had suggestions on what I would like to have. They have no idea how appreciative I am for all that they have done. The only issue is when I get back they all will be wrote up for taking time away from work to do this. Seriously though THANK YOU to everyone who did this for me.
Tuesday afternoon Karen who is a very close friend to Sandy and I came into town from Danville to see us and to have supper with us. I was so impressed with the pizza they had made. Not so much the actual pizza but the cardboard box they had put it in. We just sat around talked and joked and we opened some very nice presents. Thank you Karen and even though you're a HOKIE you are always welcomed in our home.
So onto the night. My intentions were to stay up until midnight eating and drinking because come midnight today I can not eat, drink, or even brush my teeth until after surgery. Well I came up short on staying up to midnight by about 4 hours. So here I am early morning hours typing and having a coffee withdrawl. I swear I feel like and probably look like someone on the show, Interventions. I am just totally ready to take this one time, very close friend BOB out of my life. Speaking of that little bugger let me tell you how we met.
One beautiful spring day I was brushing my teeth and I noticed this bump later known as BOB on my neck. I didn't pay it any mind but I knew it was weird. Anyway everyday while I was looking at my charming face BOB was there with me. I just continue to do as always and just say huh and move on. Well before you know it I came attached to him or maybe he was attached to me but I took care of him. I bathed him, I trimmed his hair back, and I even rubbed him to sleep.
I remember when he was just a little thing but now he has grown so big. He was in our Easter pictures, our summer vacations, I even remember that wild night down by the fire pit when UVA won there World Series game. BOB loves some diet coke and Malibu. Man those were some good times. All of a sudden around August he became very aggressive and wanting to fight all the time and I just knew that this wasn't the BOB that I became to know. He started becoming a pain in the neck. HAHA
So I decided this past fall that I was going to talk to someone to see if maybe they wanted to take him and even my Dr. stated that there was nothing wrong with BOB. So I just figured I would suck it up and deal with his issues but he became bigger and bigger so I went back to same Dr. and again she said nothing was wrong with BOB. I said I need to find a home for BOB and asked for a second opinion. This is where I found a loving family (Dr. Harter) to take BOB and let him have a bigger place to play.
I truly believe that BOB was the reason UVA was a game or 2 short of playing in the Rose Bowl for the national title and coming up very short in beating VT this year. I will always think of you BOB and remember the times we had. You will always have a place in my heart and soul but to be honest your ASS ain't ever welcome in my home again.
R.I.P
BOB
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
It's In My Belly...
Once again I have been awake for the past two hours. Since I'm not sleeping, I figured the quiet time would be a great opportunity to update you all. I mean really, laying in bed listening to one of our dogs snore, while Brad whimpers in his sleep and my mind races, isn't all that productive.
So we found out last night that Brad's cancer is in his stomach. Dr. Harter told Brad that the PET scan revealed multiple lymph nodes in his abdomen, which is not unusual for lymphoma. Dr. Harter went on to say the the high number of lymph nodes that are present is a concern, however, he still predicts Brad's prognosis to be positive. At this point, the stage and type of cancer that Brad has is still not available - that will be determined by the more thorough biopsy being done from the lymph node being removed tomorrow. Yep, Brad's friend BOB (Big Ole' Bump), as pictured above, will no longer be part of our lives.
Ahhhh - so maybe this helps explain the mysterious lump that comes and goes in Brad's belly?! While we are a bit nervous that many lymph nodes were found, we were REALLY relieved by Dr. Harter's update. Strangely enough, we were anticipating that the cancer would be located in Brad's chest or brain because of some other "symptoms" that have been exhibited (i.e. perpetual headaches, constant phlegm and clearing of the throat necessary, etc...).
Mentally, Brad is exhausted (which I worry will affect him physically) and I see it in all that he does and the look in his eyes. Last night, although he was relieved, he did tell me his eyes want to cry, but that his body is incapable of producing tears. As silly as this sounds, Brad has told me this on several other occasions. I'm confident that at some point he will let his guard down and have a good ole' fashion sobbing session, but it will take a lot for this to happen.
Tomorrow is a really big day and one I anticipate will be full of emotion not only for Brad, but for his parents and I as we wait for him at the surgical center. Although the out-patient surgery will only take an hour to complete, Brad will be completely anesthetized and will spend 3-4 hours in recovery. We can see him after 2 hours in recovery and if all goes well, he'll be home resting by late tomorrow afternoon. The funny side story to this is that when I was explaining to Avery that dad would be anesthetized or "put under" while they did surgery so that he couldn't feel what was happening, Avery responded, "I'm so glad he's not a dog or he would be dead." LOL, out of the mouths of babes come the funniest things.
I really want to thank each of you. We have received more support during the past week than we ever could have imagined. The assistance is all very, very humbling and also to some extent a small stress in our lives. Brad and I are on extremely different pages, perhaps in a different book from one another, in this regard. He has expressed concern that he feels like he is being "babied" and that people are now starting to go easy on him because of his diagnosis. I on the other hand, as somebody who likes the act of "doing" for others when possible, understand the comfort that our friends and family members feel by performing their acts of kindness for us.
Whether it be the cards and letters of support arriving on a daily basis, meals being prepared by some of my wonderful co-workers from the Y and delivered by some of our closest friends Chad and Cathy, regular phone call check-ups from many and accompaniment to each of Brad's Dr. visits/tests/procedures from mom and dad, from the bottom of our hearts, we thank you.
One thing we really recognize in all of this is that we are so very, very fortunate. We have so many gifts to be thankful for and a solid marital foundation to deal with whatever is coming our way. If this is a journey we must travel, I'm so glad we have each of you by our side. As was received in a letter from one of my student Program Leaders yesterday, everything happens for a reason (thanks Justin!). I too, am a firm believer that while we may not know our destination, we're never given more than we can handle, although it may feel like it at times. Our chins are up - keep those positive thoughts and prayers coming!
Love,
Sandy
p.s. I'm sure you're curious about why we may have chosen lime green as the back drop color to our blog? While I want to confirm it with our Dr., it seems as though lime green is the ribbon color associated with lymphoma support. We are definitely celebrating a greener Christmas in our home this year!
So we found out last night that Brad's cancer is in his stomach. Dr. Harter told Brad that the PET scan revealed multiple lymph nodes in his abdomen, which is not unusual for lymphoma. Dr. Harter went on to say the the high number of lymph nodes that are present is a concern, however, he still predicts Brad's prognosis to be positive. At this point, the stage and type of cancer that Brad has is still not available - that will be determined by the more thorough biopsy being done from the lymph node being removed tomorrow. Yep, Brad's friend BOB (Big Ole' Bump), as pictured above, will no longer be part of our lives.
Ahhhh - so maybe this helps explain the mysterious lump that comes and goes in Brad's belly?! While we are a bit nervous that many lymph nodes were found, we were REALLY relieved by Dr. Harter's update. Strangely enough, we were anticipating that the cancer would be located in Brad's chest or brain because of some other "symptoms" that have been exhibited (i.e. perpetual headaches, constant phlegm and clearing of the throat necessary, etc...).
Mentally, Brad is exhausted (which I worry will affect him physically) and I see it in all that he does and the look in his eyes. Last night, although he was relieved, he did tell me his eyes want to cry, but that his body is incapable of producing tears. As silly as this sounds, Brad has told me this on several other occasions. I'm confident that at some point he will let his guard down and have a good ole' fashion sobbing session, but it will take a lot for this to happen.
Tomorrow is a really big day and one I anticipate will be full of emotion not only for Brad, but for his parents and I as we wait for him at the surgical center. Although the out-patient surgery will only take an hour to complete, Brad will be completely anesthetized and will spend 3-4 hours in recovery. We can see him after 2 hours in recovery and if all goes well, he'll be home resting by late tomorrow afternoon. The funny side story to this is that when I was explaining to Avery that dad would be anesthetized or "put under" while they did surgery so that he couldn't feel what was happening, Avery responded, "I'm so glad he's not a dog or he would be dead." LOL, out of the mouths of babes come the funniest things.
I really want to thank each of you. We have received more support during the past week than we ever could have imagined. The assistance is all very, very humbling and also to some extent a small stress in our lives. Brad and I are on extremely different pages, perhaps in a different book from one another, in this regard. He has expressed concern that he feels like he is being "babied" and that people are now starting to go easy on him because of his diagnosis. I on the other hand, as somebody who likes the act of "doing" for others when possible, understand the comfort that our friends and family members feel by performing their acts of kindness for us.
Whether it be the cards and letters of support arriving on a daily basis, meals being prepared by some of my wonderful co-workers from the Y and delivered by some of our closest friends Chad and Cathy, regular phone call check-ups from many and accompaniment to each of Brad's Dr. visits/tests/procedures from mom and dad, from the bottom of our hearts, we thank you.
One thing we really recognize in all of this is that we are so very, very fortunate. We have so many gifts to be thankful for and a solid marital foundation to deal with whatever is coming our way. If this is a journey we must travel, I'm so glad we have each of you by our side. As was received in a letter from one of my student Program Leaders yesterday, everything happens for a reason (thanks Justin!). I too, am a firm believer that while we may not know our destination, we're never given more than we can handle, although it may feel like it at times. Our chins are up - keep those positive thoughts and prayers coming!
Love,
Sandy
p.s. I'm sure you're curious about why we may have chosen lime green as the back drop color to our blog? While I want to confirm it with our Dr., it seems as though lime green is the ribbon color associated with lymphoma support. We are definitely celebrating a greener Christmas in our home this year!
Monday, December 21, 2009
The First Week...
The past week in many respects has flown by, yet time seems to stand still. Telling Avery about his diagnosis may have been the most difficult thing Brad has ever had to do. I mean really, what is the best way to tell an 11 year old that his best friend (that's what Avery is always calling his dad) has this big, bad, scary thing called C-A-N-C-E-R? We wanted to be sure that Avery heard it directly from Brad and nobody else. We sat down for a family discussion shortly after we ourselves found out. A "family discussion" is a quick way to get Avery's attention. He honestly thought he was in trouble.
The conversation went a little something like this...
Brad: Avery, you know I've been having this lump on my neck looked at by the doctors, right?
Avery: Yes, sir.
Brad: Do you know what cancer is?
Avery: Yes, sir.
Brad: Tell me what you know about it.
Avery: Well, I know that for some people it can make them lose their hair. Other people can die from it and that some cancer is worse than other cancer.
Brad: Good job bud, that's all correct. I want to let you know that the doctors found out that the lump on my neck is cancer. It's called lymphoma, which you probably can't say 'cuz it can be a hard word to pronounce.
Sandy: I'll bet Avery can say lymphoma (you didn't think I was quiet the WHOLE time did you?).
Avery: Lymphoma.
Brad went on to explain to Avery that because he was so young (he's 35) and hasn't had any symptoms that those with cancer typically exhibit, the Dr. told him that was good news and that we would be visiting the Dr. in the morning. Together we explained chemotherapy and the effects it may have on Brad's body and his energy. Together we talked about Avery being a strong, young man to help around the house a little more and to help keep his dad's spirits high.
At the end of the conversation Brad asked Avery if he had any questions. He only had one initially.
Avery: So how long will you have cancer?
Brad: It depends on how my body reacts to the treatment when it begins. Some people have cancer for a very long time, but many people have treatment and get better very quickly.
Avery just sat there quietly. He didn't cry, but he did hold my hand as I cried. He looked like he wanted to say something. When we asked him, he said he didn't have anything else to say. We then talked about how challenging things will be in the future and that it is incredibly important to talk about our feelings and ask questions. We stressed that it was ok to be sad and scared, because we were feeling the same way. I mean really, we had only found out Brad's diagnosis about 1 1/2 hours earlier.
Avery then said, "I do have something else I want to know, but I'm scared to ask." I encouraged him to ask his question and his exact words were, "So what are the consequences of this?". We all sat there quietly and I said, "Are you trying to ask if dad is going to die from this?" He replied, "Yes ma'am." I told Avery that we were hopeful for a very strong recovery because of the things that the Dr. had told Brad over the phone and that we would really pray for dad to get better.
That was the end of the conversation. Avery gave us both incredibly big hugs and then went to spend the night with his mom so that Brad and I could spend some time together. Before Avery got off our street, he had already sent Brad a text message saying, "I love you so so so so so so much." We have been blessed by the most gracious, accepting, thoughtful, loving child in the world.
The next morning, on December 15th (the day after diagnosis), Brad and I met with Dr. Harter face to face. Here, we would learn a couple of quick "rules":
1. Do NOT do any internet research about lymphoma. However, when we know more about Brad's specific cancer, the doctors will provide the appropriate internet resources for us to share with family and friends.
2. Do NOT listen to the diagnoses and outcomes of the many good and bad stories that will be retold to us from those who care. While intentions are good, each specific case of cancer has it's own journey. Ours is yet to be discovered.
Dr. Harter is somebody who I immediately liked. He doesn't seem (so far) like one of those physicians trying to herd you in and out of his office like cattle. He takes his time to answer questions and even offered his own suggestion for us to keep a "question journal". The purpose of the journal is kinda obvious, but allows us to write our questions down as they pop in our head. We then of course, take the journal to Brad's myriad of appointments and get the answers. We have nearly three pages of questions right now.
The conversation went a little something like this...
Brad: Avery, you know I've been having this lump on my neck looked at by the doctors, right?
Avery: Yes, sir.
Brad: Do you know what cancer is?
Avery: Yes, sir.
Brad: Tell me what you know about it.
Avery: Well, I know that for some people it can make them lose their hair. Other people can die from it and that some cancer is worse than other cancer.
Brad: Good job bud, that's all correct. I want to let you know that the doctors found out that the lump on my neck is cancer. It's called lymphoma, which you probably can't say 'cuz it can be a hard word to pronounce.
Sandy: I'll bet Avery can say lymphoma (you didn't think I was quiet the WHOLE time did you?).
Avery: Lymphoma.
Brad went on to explain to Avery that because he was so young (he's 35) and hasn't had any symptoms that those with cancer typically exhibit, the Dr. told him that was good news and that we would be visiting the Dr. in the morning. Together we explained chemotherapy and the effects it may have on Brad's body and his energy. Together we talked about Avery being a strong, young man to help around the house a little more and to help keep his dad's spirits high.
At the end of the conversation Brad asked Avery if he had any questions. He only had one initially.
Avery: So how long will you have cancer?
Brad: It depends on how my body reacts to the treatment when it begins. Some people have cancer for a very long time, but many people have treatment and get better very quickly.
Avery just sat there quietly. He didn't cry, but he did hold my hand as I cried. He looked like he wanted to say something. When we asked him, he said he didn't have anything else to say. We then talked about how challenging things will be in the future and that it is incredibly important to talk about our feelings and ask questions. We stressed that it was ok to be sad and scared, because we were feeling the same way. I mean really, we had only found out Brad's diagnosis about 1 1/2 hours earlier.
Avery then said, "I do have something else I want to know, but I'm scared to ask." I encouraged him to ask his question and his exact words were, "So what are the consequences of this?". We all sat there quietly and I said, "Are you trying to ask if dad is going to die from this?" He replied, "Yes ma'am." I told Avery that we were hopeful for a very strong recovery because of the things that the Dr. had told Brad over the phone and that we would really pray for dad to get better.
That was the end of the conversation. Avery gave us both incredibly big hugs and then went to spend the night with his mom so that Brad and I could spend some time together. Before Avery got off our street, he had already sent Brad a text message saying, "I love you so so so so so so much." We have been blessed by the most gracious, accepting, thoughtful, loving child in the world.
The next morning, on December 15th (the day after diagnosis), Brad and I met with Dr. Harter face to face. Here, we would learn a couple of quick "rules":
1. Do NOT do any internet research about lymphoma. However, when we know more about Brad's specific cancer, the doctors will provide the appropriate internet resources for us to share with family and friends.
2. Do NOT listen to the diagnoses and outcomes of the many good and bad stories that will be retold to us from those who care. While intentions are good, each specific case of cancer has it's own journey. Ours is yet to be discovered.
Dr. Harter is somebody who I immediately liked. He doesn't seem (so far) like one of those physicians trying to herd you in and out of his office like cattle. He takes his time to answer questions and even offered his own suggestion for us to keep a "question journal". The purpose of the journal is kinda obvious, but allows us to write our questions down as they pop in our head. We then of course, take the journal to Brad's myriad of appointments and get the answers. We have nearly three pages of questions right now.
Avery has been seeing a wonderful counselor for nearly two years. Roxana has been very helpful to Avery in finding his own voice and sharing his thoughts more openly, something that children of divorced parents often struggle with. Ironically, Avery had a scheduled appointment with Roxana this past Thursday and the focus of his time with her was spent talking about Brad's diagnosis. Something Roxana encouraged was that Brad and Avery take a picture together prior to any procedure that occurs with Brad. She suggested that we post each new picture as the background on our computer and print a copy for Avery to carry with him to school, etc... as a way to help him through Brad's phases and to help Avery continue seeing that his and dad's relationship can be strong with and without cancer. Their first picture is what's posted in this blog.
This past Friday, Brad had a PET scan, which we are anxiously awaiting the results right now and will hopefully hear something today. In order to perform the scan, Brad had to drink a radioactive "cocktail" as the technician referred to it, allowing the drink the coat the inside of his body to protect his organs before being scanned. The results are immediate, but could not be shared with Brad. Unfortunately, because of a record setting snow fall in Roanoke, all the doctor offices closed early and we didn't get the results on Friday.
The radioactive material made Brad extremely nauseous and lethargic (although he did get a few short bursts of energy) throughout the weekend. I think the worst part was that Brad could not touch and was encouraged to keep some distance between him and Avery for nearly 20 hours.
We decided that because the snow was so beautiful and because Brad may not be feeling well after a scheduled surgical procedure to remove the enlarged lymph node on December 23rd, that we would celebrate Christmas early to brighten everybody's spirits. It was the best "Christmas" ever even though we couldn't hug Brad because he was glowing in the dark. I'm confident it's something we'll laugh about in the future.
Big hugs,
Sandy
This past Friday, Brad had a PET scan, which we are anxiously awaiting the results right now and will hopefully hear something today. In order to perform the scan, Brad had to drink a radioactive "cocktail" as the technician referred to it, allowing the drink the coat the inside of his body to protect his organs before being scanned. The results are immediate, but could not be shared with Brad. Unfortunately, because of a record setting snow fall in Roanoke, all the doctor offices closed early and we didn't get the results on Friday.
The radioactive material made Brad extremely nauseous and lethargic (although he did get a few short bursts of energy) throughout the weekend. I think the worst part was that Brad could not touch and was encouraged to keep some distance between him and Avery for nearly 20 hours.
We decided that because the snow was so beautiful and because Brad may not be feeling well after a scheduled surgical procedure to remove the enlarged lymph node on December 23rd, that we would celebrate Christmas early to brighten everybody's spirits. It was the best "Christmas" ever even though we couldn't hug Brad because he was glowing in the dark. I'm confident it's something we'll laugh about in the future.
Big hugs,
Sandy
The News We Didn't Want to Hear...
It's really amazing to think that it has been exactly one week since Brad's diagnosis of lymphoma. In some respects, it feels like we just found out, yet other times it feels like we have known for weeks. There are calm, collected moments and those times where I have a random thought and completely lose it.
So for those of you new to our lives, or who don't know Brad very well, I thought starting the blog off with a little history leading up to where we are as of today seemed important. So, here it goes...
Brad, like many men (I will do my very best to avoid stereotyping here), I mean, most of the men I have known in my life, is stubborn. When a lump showed up on his throat at least 9 months ago, I encouraged him to visit our family Dr. Yep, you guessed it. Like many men out there, he took this seemingly solid advice and ignored it. Maybe I shouldn't really say "ignored", but rather, chose not to listen to it and visit our Dr. since he wasn't feeling badly.
As the months passed (his earliest recollection of the lump is this past April), Brad would continue to talk about the lump on his neck, but wouldn't follow up with a visit to our Dr. Finally, in September (2009), Brad did visit our physician for the lump on his neck because it was increasing in size, as well as a random lump on his stomach that would come and mysteriously disappear. He was tested for mono, strep, Epstein-Barr Syndrome and a few other things not at all related to cancer, all of which came back negative. Our stumped Dr. scheduled a follow-up visit with Brad, which Brad later canceled because again, he felt good.
So like many companies out there struggling with rising health care costs, we found out at the end of November that Brad's employer is transitioning over to a HSA (Health Savings Account) type insurance in order to reduce some of the company costs associated with covering its employees. While I personally dislike the plan and moving away from the familiar PPO option, it did give us a hard push to get a couple of things taken care of before January 1 when our new plan kicks in. Yep, you guessed it - one of those things was Brad's ever-present lump. The bump had become such a part of Brad, that he lovingly named it BOB, which stood for Big Ole' Bump.
Brad was convinced that our Dr. was going to again tell him that she wasn't sure what he had or that he was just dealing with an enlarged lymph node. I encouraged him that if she did indeed say that, he should let her know that he wanted a second opinion. On Wednesday, December 2nd, Brad visited our Dr. again. The new "diagnosis" was that Brad had a "floating lymph node". "Huh?!?" When asking for clarification about what a floating lymph node was/is exactly, Brad was told that it's a lymph node that stays enlarged for a long period of time after an extreme illness like the flu, mono, etc... Brad let our Dr. know that he hadn't been sick in over two years and told her he wanted to have a second opinion - the words that we are confident will now save his life.
Our Dr. scheduled an appointment for Brad the next morning with an Ear, Nose and Throat Specialist and the snowball officially started rolling down the hill. Within moments of being in a new physician's office, Brad's lump was being measured, pushed on, questioned, etc... Within a few minutes, Dr. Harter told Brad he was concerned about the lump BECAUSE it was painless and had been hanging around so long. He immediately told Brad that a biopsy would be the next step.
On Thursday, December 10th, we went to Lewis Gale hospital and Brad was ushered off to have an ultrasound and a tissue sample of the lymph node removed (through a long needle) in this small little room with three chairs in the waiting area. It seemed like a long, emotional appointment. I cried like a baby while the medical staff was with Brad because I could hear him asking questions like - "How long before the results will be available?" and "Will my neck be sore afterward?". Brad's mom didn't cry (because I was) and Dad, in an attempt to avoid crying, decided to venture off to find Brad a cup of coffee since Brad had been unable to eat or drink anything that morning before the biopsy. Dad's exact words were, "my son needs to have a cup of coffee when he gets out of there." Brad got his cup of coffee.
As we anxiously waited throughout the weekend for Monday to arrive with the hopes that the biopsy results would be available, Brad and I talked about everything. One of the many things we discussed, was both of our nagging feelings that the news we were going to hear would not be good. Like any person curious about information, we spent hours on the computer googling his symptoms, cancer, etc... Most of what we read scared the crap out of us. Little did we know then, but we were already violating the first "rule" that Dr. Harter would soon share with us.
First thing Monday morning, Brad was calling the Dr. office before they even opened. When he connected with the receptionist at about 9:01am, she told him that it was likely we wouldn't hear anything until the following day because all of the results were not yet available. We were both extremely disappointed, but later decided Brad would call one more time in the afternoon.
I was attending a meeting at the Hale-YMCA Community Gardens as planning discussions occurred about its future layout when Brad called. He wasn't able to talk to Dr. Harter (but did leave a message) and we would have to wait until the next day for the results. It sucked. After the meeting at the Y Gardens, Jen (one of my fellow Y staff members) and I ventured back to our office to wrap things up for the day. It was about 4:45pm when Brad called. I answered the phone and said, "Hey, what's up?" Brad asked what I was doing and I told him I was finishing things up in the office. His next words were, "I have lymphoma."
Everything else seems kinda blurry after that. I had a total melt down right there in my office and hysterical tears combined with an irrational sense of getting things in order seemed to make sense. Thank goodness Jen was there.
Much love to our family and friends for your support over the past week!
Big hugs,
Sandy
p.s. There's A LOT, LOT more to this story - for those of you who know me well, it's 3:17am and I've been up since about 12:45. I am NOT a night person, although I guess this technically falls under morning.
So for those of you new to our lives, or who don't know Brad very well, I thought starting the blog off with a little history leading up to where we are as of today seemed important. So, here it goes...
Brad, like many men (I will do my very best to avoid stereotyping here), I mean, most of the men I have known in my life, is stubborn. When a lump showed up on his throat at least 9 months ago, I encouraged him to visit our family Dr. Yep, you guessed it. Like many men out there, he took this seemingly solid advice and ignored it. Maybe I shouldn't really say "ignored", but rather, chose not to listen to it and visit our Dr. since he wasn't feeling badly.
As the months passed (his earliest recollection of the lump is this past April), Brad would continue to talk about the lump on his neck, but wouldn't follow up with a visit to our Dr. Finally, in September (2009), Brad did visit our physician for the lump on his neck because it was increasing in size, as well as a random lump on his stomach that would come and mysteriously disappear. He was tested for mono, strep, Epstein-Barr Syndrome and a few other things not at all related to cancer, all of which came back negative. Our stumped Dr. scheduled a follow-up visit with Brad, which Brad later canceled because again, he felt good.
So like many companies out there struggling with rising health care costs, we found out at the end of November that Brad's employer is transitioning over to a HSA (Health Savings Account) type insurance in order to reduce some of the company costs associated with covering its employees. While I personally dislike the plan and moving away from the familiar PPO option, it did give us a hard push to get a couple of things taken care of before January 1 when our new plan kicks in. Yep, you guessed it - one of those things was Brad's ever-present lump. The bump had become such a part of Brad, that he lovingly named it BOB, which stood for Big Ole' Bump.
Brad was convinced that our Dr. was going to again tell him that she wasn't sure what he had or that he was just dealing with an enlarged lymph node. I encouraged him that if she did indeed say that, he should let her know that he wanted a second opinion. On Wednesday, December 2nd, Brad visited our Dr. again. The new "diagnosis" was that Brad had a "floating lymph node". "Huh?!?" When asking for clarification about what a floating lymph node was/is exactly, Brad was told that it's a lymph node that stays enlarged for a long period of time after an extreme illness like the flu, mono, etc... Brad let our Dr. know that he hadn't been sick in over two years and told her he wanted to have a second opinion - the words that we are confident will now save his life.
Our Dr. scheduled an appointment for Brad the next morning with an Ear, Nose and Throat Specialist and the snowball officially started rolling down the hill. Within moments of being in a new physician's office, Brad's lump was being measured, pushed on, questioned, etc... Within a few minutes, Dr. Harter told Brad he was concerned about the lump BECAUSE it was painless and had been hanging around so long. He immediately told Brad that a biopsy would be the next step.
On Thursday, December 10th, we went to Lewis Gale hospital and Brad was ushered off to have an ultrasound and a tissue sample of the lymph node removed (through a long needle) in this small little room with three chairs in the waiting area. It seemed like a long, emotional appointment. I cried like a baby while the medical staff was with Brad because I could hear him asking questions like - "How long before the results will be available?" and "Will my neck be sore afterward?". Brad's mom didn't cry (because I was) and Dad, in an attempt to avoid crying, decided to venture off to find Brad a cup of coffee since Brad had been unable to eat or drink anything that morning before the biopsy. Dad's exact words were, "my son needs to have a cup of coffee when he gets out of there." Brad got his cup of coffee.
As we anxiously waited throughout the weekend for Monday to arrive with the hopes that the biopsy results would be available, Brad and I talked about everything. One of the many things we discussed, was both of our nagging feelings that the news we were going to hear would not be good. Like any person curious about information, we spent hours on the computer googling his symptoms, cancer, etc... Most of what we read scared the crap out of us. Little did we know then, but we were already violating the first "rule" that Dr. Harter would soon share with us.
First thing Monday morning, Brad was calling the Dr. office before they even opened. When he connected with the receptionist at about 9:01am, she told him that it was likely we wouldn't hear anything until the following day because all of the results were not yet available. We were both extremely disappointed, but later decided Brad would call one more time in the afternoon.
I was attending a meeting at the Hale-YMCA Community Gardens as planning discussions occurred about its future layout when Brad called. He wasn't able to talk to Dr. Harter (but did leave a message) and we would have to wait until the next day for the results. It sucked. After the meeting at the Y Gardens, Jen (one of my fellow Y staff members) and I ventured back to our office to wrap things up for the day. It was about 4:45pm when Brad called. I answered the phone and said, "Hey, what's up?" Brad asked what I was doing and I told him I was finishing things up in the office. His next words were, "I have lymphoma."
Everything else seems kinda blurry after that. I had a total melt down right there in my office and hysterical tears combined with an irrational sense of getting things in order seemed to make sense. Thank goodness Jen was there.
Much love to our family and friends for your support over the past week!
Big hugs,
Sandy
p.s. There's A LOT, LOT more to this story - for those of you who know me well, it's 3:17am and I've been up since about 12:45. I am NOT a night person, although I guess this technically falls under morning.
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