Lessons of 2012 (Jake update at the end)

It's the end of the year. It's the time for people to discuss how next year is going to be so much better than the last, or to make promises to themselves that rarely last more than a couple of months (I know. I've been there). I find myself in a much different position this year than in years past. I still have goals, and I still have things that I plan to improve upon, but I find the attitude behind it is so much different than it has been in the past.

Since Jake's diagnosis, the biggest thing that has changed with me is a deeper appreciation for people in general, and an attitude of gratitude. Those of you who know me personally know that I'm almost an expert at keeping people at arms length (or even greater distance). There's a huge back story with that, but this isn't the place. What it comes down to is that I just couldn't trust people and their intentions. As a result, I had a really hard time trusting that people genuinely wanted to help. It has been such a hard thing for me to let people in with this, but I am ever so grateful for what everyone has done for us. Basic tasks such as cooking and cleaning (which is more necessary than ever now) have become difficult for me, and I'm so grateful for those people who are willing and able to help out, and to do so with a smile.

I also have greater compassion for people, and a better understanding that everyone has their own struggles. You'd think that as a nurse, the compassion part should have been innate. It wasn't. I thought I had it, but it's been something I've struggled with for a while. Since the diagnosis, I find myself wanting to give help wherever I can. I get turned down a lot, but I'm always glad that I've been in a position to lend a hand. And I also find I'm more willing to give my spare change to the beggar on the street. I've decided that it's not my business what he does with it, at least my heart was in the right place when I decided to give him that money, and it was done with a sincere desire to help.

I feel like this is turning into a braggart post, and that is not my intention. I guess my intention is to recognize that even challenging years can turn into good ones if we let ourselves absorb the lessons that are available to us. This year--although not my most challenging ever-- has been a difficult one, but I'm amazed at how much I have been able to learn from it. I am so grateful for all of you, for your patience with me and for your willingness to help out without so much as a grumble (at least not that I've seen ;) ). I'm still learning, and probably will for the rest of my life, but it's getting there.

As far as an update on Jake goes: He is doing better now than I've seen him in a long time. I think last time I blogged, we anticipated the transplant process to begin 12/30. Well, that didn't happen. For those of you who have not heard, I will start at the beginning.

After Jake had his appendix out, a few days went by before we received a phone call from the surgeon. He told Jake that the pathologist could not identify any appendix cells in the "mass" that they removed. As a result, they wanted to get a CT scan to verify removal of the appendix. That was done on a very busy day of meetings and tests to prepare for transplant. (Odd side note; Jake still has his appendix. The "mass" was just infection on the lining of the gut. Obviously, this doesn't happen often and so Jake is a bit of a medical oddity.)

The next day, we received a phone call from the oncologist, and she said that they were concerned about the inflammation in his gut, and felt it best to take him off one of the medications and give his body time to heal before doing the transplant. We have pushed back the time of transplant for 2 weeks, though we have not received verification of the date. We will keep you all posted, though. For now, life is good, and we're just enjoying the time off! We wish you a Happy New Year, and hope all is well.

Donors and Appy and Hair, OH MY!

It's been a while, and I realized that not everyone gets the Facebook updates, so I thought I'd update here as well.

First, Jake still is actually hanging onto his hair, though it's thinning quite a bit. He was tired of finding long strands of hair everywhere, so we took the clippers to it after last chemo treatment. He still has his goatee, and I surprisingly really like his new look. I say surprisingly because when we were first dating, he buzzed his head. I hated it so much, that I threatened him that I'd leave if he ever did it again. (haha) Maybe it's partly the fact that I've been expecting him to be bald at some point, so I was able to accept it better. Regardless, I do like it.

Second, Jake has had the pleasure of experiencing acute appendicitis. He went in for surgery this morning. I don't have an update on that, yet, but will update as soon as I am able. *Update* Jake is out of surgery, back in his room, and "out of it" as he says. Seems to be doing well otherwise.

Now for the exciting news: A donor has been found! Jake is scheduled to start the process of total body irradiation with another chemo on 12/30/12. Until then, there are a lot of appointments and blood draws and all kinds of running around. And a lot of nerves. I'm anxious to get this part of it over with. We anticipate about 6 weeks of hospital stay, and 100 days post transplant of being in a bubble. So, as a reminder, if you are sick or have been around anyone who has been sick or know of a person who knows of a person who is sick, please don't come visit. We love you, but we also love Jake living better than dead. If you feel like "visiting" through other methods such as Facetime or Skype, I'm sure that would be an option. Just work it out with him to see what his day looks like.

I had an interesting thought last night. For many of you, this may be a "Duh!" thought, but for me, it was a little new. I know that so many times we trust that God will get us through our various trials, and He does. But for some reason I always had the thought (expectiation?) that if we prayed hard enough about it, it would be done comfortably and with little pain. I was introduced to a music video last night that really opened my eyes regarding this. The song was Do You Have Room by Shawna Edwards. Ok, I know that back then there weren't hospitals and epidurals and all the stuff that can make us comfortable in childbirth, but here Mary was, about to deliver the Son of God, and there was no room anywhere. Sure, I'm sure God could have created room, or some luxury suite for the delivery of His Son, but He didn't. Jesus was born in a stable, with dirty animals and dirty animal stink and cold, drafty air... It was anything but comfortable. Imagine if the story was changed just a little, if Jesus was born in a luxury suite with lots of beautiful clothing, things more "fit" for a King. I wonder if the significance of His birth even would have changed. Or maybe the wrong people would decide to believe simply because of the possessions.

It's easy to desire comfort or smooth sailing through our trials. But would our lessons remain the same? Would we have the same life application following the trial if it were easier? Or would it even be a trial? Anyway. I hope my thoughts weren't too far off track. Really, it was just a bit of an eye-opener for me.

We have been blessed so far, and so far relatively comfortable (Relatively being the key word....Jake has been uncomfortable, but faring much better than many of his cohabitants of East 8). We hope all is well with you and yours, and may the Spirit of Christmas take hold of your hearts this year. I know it has mine.

Strep=Blessing?

I never thought I'd consider strep throat a good thing, but in this case it is. It turns out that most of Jake's symptoms after coming home last week were due to strep. He was diagnosed Monday. After a day of antibiotics, he started to turn around pretty quickly, and now he's mostly back to normal. He still has headaches quite a bit, but they seem to be more manageable and are coming less frequently.

We still have no word on a donor, but we really don't expect to for at least another six weeks. We'll keep everyone posted on that as well.

Now we'll try to enjoy the next 5 days and a fabulous Thanksgiving meal, as Jake will be admitted again on Friday morning. Let's just hope that this dose will leave his system faster and he will be able to deal with it a little better.

Methotrexate Sucks

My heart has been hurting this week. We went into this phase with the expectation that it would be easier than last phase, yet we're finding the opposite is true. Jake has been hit hard with nasty side effects, and it's so hard to sit back and watch and know that there's nothing I can do about it. The day after he started the methotrexate he became sick for the first time since diagnosis. He spent the entire day in a Phenergan/Ativan fuzz, and I wasn't even able to really contact him much so we didn't visit. He hasn't really been the same since. Also, the methotrexate took longer than expected to get down to a manageable level, so he wasn't discharged until yesterday (Saturday). After coming home, he was fine for an hour or 2, and then he got quite sick again. As a result, he became dehydrated so his levels remained the same. Then, as if things weren't bad enough, he woke up this morning in a lot of pain in his head, back, and throat. Put the throat pain on top of the loss of appetite he's experiencing, and things just aren't going near as well as we hoped. Jake mentioned earlier that "this is not how I wanted to go on a diet...". I don't blame him.

I'm hoping the next week or 2 will be a lot better for him. We check back into the hospital the day after Thanksgiving and start all over again. I'm just praying next dose gets easier, because this is awful. I absolutely hate seeing him in so much pain. This just sucks.  Please pray that Jake will have an easier time during the time between admits; he definitely needs it.

A Not-So-Good Day

This is a rant post, so I apologize in advance.

I'm extremely discouraged today. We had a meeting with the doctor and coordinator, and the 2 donor matches that were found removed themselves from the list when the registry contacted them. I'm trying really hard to convince myself that they had a legitimate reason, such as health problems of their own or what have you, but the pessimistic side of me is nagging me and I'm angry. I don't understand why someone would say they want to donate and then remove themselves when someone else's life depends on it. I guess I just feel that if you don't want to donate, don't sign up and that way nobody gets their hopes up.

It's not to say that we're out of options. They're currently going through the other potential matches and trying to see how closely they match and if they're still willing and all that jazz. If not, then we start looking at haplo-identical matches, which I'll get into later if that's what it comes to. Basically, we don't have any real information, we just have a series of potentials and possibilities. I understand why it's that way, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating.

Speaking of frustrations.... Our insurance company keeps denying our claims, citing pre-existing condition. Really? He hasn't used the insurance at all in the 10 months he's worked there and suddenly he has a pre-existing condition? Despite Jake talking to them and telling them that's not the case, they still continue to deny claims. IRRITATING!!! (That being said, Obamacare is still not the answer. Just had to put in my 2 cents. Plus I'm realizing we could likely feed a small country with the amount of medical bills we're experiencing. Good to know that people only really care about one thing...)

I guess I couldn't have expected that everything will go perfectly well. Otherwise cancer wouldn't be so dreaded. I guess I just had a sense that if everything was falling into place in the beginning, it would continue to do so. Silly me.

Anyway, I'm just getting things off my chest. I do so without expectation of anyone else understanding or feeling obligated to do anything. There's really nothing that can be done. I did, however, state that this blog was to express my feelings and experiences through this whole thing, so here it is. There have been better days. I anticipate worse in the future though.

(PS...our family, friends and neighbors still continue to show their love in such special ways. Thank you! We haven't forgotten you even in our frustrating times!)

On to Consolidation

One thing I've noticed about dealing with cancer is that you get asked to drop everything for an immediate admit. Fortunately for us, we were able to postpone this admit by a few days in order to take care of some things at home first. It definitely helped relieve the chaos and stress, but I know that we won't be so lucky when it comes time for transplant.

As most of you have probably heard, Jake is in a great spot in his fight. His last bone marrow biopsy revealed 0.1% leukemic cells, which means we progress to the next phase, which is more of a maintenance phase than anything. He was admitted to the hospital this morning and is receiving fluids for hydration as well as bi-carb to help ensure his pH is where they want it to achieve optimum results and allow his organs to function as well as possible. Tomorrow he will begin high-dose methotrexate over 24 hours, and will be discharged as soon as that clears his system to a manageable level.

As far as what the rest of this phase has in store for us, I'm not sure yet. We will be meeting with the doctor to discuss all of that tomorrow afternoon. I think we're both excited and anxious to get this going and done with so that we can go through the transplant hell as soon and as quickly as possible.

As a side note, we finally got family pictures done. We haven't had any since we were married, even after the baby was born almost 2 years ago. I'm so glad we were able to do this, and for Jake's friend who helped by taking amazing pictures! It was one of my fears that we wouldn't get it done before Jake lost hair or looked too unhealthy, but by some miracle he still looks great! I'm glad we were able to capture this time in our lives. (Special thanks to kSwiss for making it happen)

I anticipate this phase being relatively slow, but I'll keep updating as I have news and if things change.

End of Round 1

Well, today Jake endured his last dose of IV chemotherapy for this round. He is still doing amazingly well, and I can't help but admire him. He still has most of his hair, so we're trying to sneak in some family pictures before it's gone. I'm actually still hopeful that it will continue to hold on tight, but fully accept the possibility that it won't. It's funny, with each dose of chemo he receives, his hair hangs on and mine gets more grey. Go figure.

Next Tuesday is his bone marrow biopsy and lumbar puncture. Because of the way his blood counts continue to go up, the doctors feel pretty optimistic that his biopsy results will show very little leukemic cells left. We still have to wait until after we have those results to determine the next course of action. As far as the transplant goes, we do know that 2 of his 4 siblings are not a match. We should know the results of the other 2 tests this week.

Things continue to go as well or even better than we could have ever expected. We feel so blessed. My home teacher had mentioned that he had a friend whose family member battled leukemia, and when asked about the experience, he stated that it was the greatest blessing you wouldn't wish on anyone. I have to agree with this statement. It's amazing how much gratitude I feel now. In fact, that gratitude overwhelms any fear or anger I have related to Jake's leukemia. More than ever, I feel that there is a God, and God is good. There are also some amazing people in this world. We have some of the very best friends and neighbors anyone could ever hope for. You all amaze me at how willing and able you are to help us out.  I continue to pray that you all know of our love and how much we appreciate everything. Thank you all!

Homecoming

As you may have guessed (or otherwise been told), Jake is HOME!! It's at least a full week sooner than expected. His blood count numbers and liver function tests look so good, he doesn't have to be monitored so closely! He still has to have nightly IV medication plus a bucketful of meds every day, and then we have to get one more chemo treatment next week. After that, a bone marrow biopsy will tell us if he is in remission or not, and how far that remission goes (less than 5% leukemic cells is considered remission). All I know is that right now, I'm just sooo happy to have him back home!!!

As much as I hate to admit it, this part was the easy part. The part that will be really hard is the bone marrow transplant. Then, he will have to endure full body irradiation, another high dose chemo round, and then the transplant. During this time, his blood counts WILL be completely wiped out. The scariest part of this round is the extremely high risk for infection. He will, therefore, have to be in the hospital for 5-6 weeks. This will all take place in about 2 or 3 months, so we anticipate another lengthy hospital stay around the beginning of the year.

Thank you so much for the continued prayers! We continue to feel them and know that they have helped us through this tough time!

Big Strides in the Right Direction

You always hear about the "small victories" when it comes to the fight against cancer. Well, today was full of what we felt were BIG victories! First, Jake was able to be disconnected from his full time fluid infusion. He was so excited to be so mobile. Then, he reported to me that his platelets, white blood cells, and hematocrit were up. In fact, his crit was SO close to being at normal range. This was such a big deal, though I'm sure I'm more excited about it than he is. Then finally, as we were getting ready to walk around the halls, we ran into one of his doctors who gave us permission to walk outside since Jake's blood levels were doing so well. He still had to wear his his protective gear, but it was a beautiful day for a walk. He enjoyed every minute of it.

My heart is full of gratitude today. I'm so grateful to my Heavenly Father for watching over him and giving us both the strength we need to get through this thing. Although we're nowhere close to being done with this battle, it suddenly feels like we can do this. Of course, I'm still so grateful for everyone who continues to help my family get through our days now that life has changed so much. God is Good, and all of your prayers are heard! Thank you everyone!

ThaBadDawg: Fighter

Life is different now, but we're managing. Here I am with the 4 people who mean the most to me.

Today Jake received his second IV dose of chemo. He continues to do well, and aside from a bit of nausea and feeling run down, he's tolerating it well. Tomorrow he gets an intrathecal (spinal) dose of methotrexate. I know that's definitely not one of his favorite parts, but he's still in great spirits about it. I'm still so in awe of him. I've honestly never met anyone as upbeat as he is, no matter the situation. He is amazing.

I had a friend mention tonight that in his observations over the past couple of days when he's come to visit, it appears that our marriage is stronger now than it ever has been before. I think he's probably right. Jake and I have an amazing marriage to begin with, but it's crazy how much stronger this thing has made it. It makes me realize how much we were meant to be together. I am so grateful for him.

Tonight some of the realities of his disease are really kicking in, and I'm tearful. I think we've been able to keep so busy over the past week that I've been able to focus on the fight, which is good, but I also need the time to grieve a little bit. I know it's healthy, and I know it's important to work through some of these things. I'm sad for lost vacation time, for fall activities that we were looking forward to that aren't a possibility anymore, and for simple things such as laying my head on his shoulder as we fall asleep. I'm also very sad about the strong likelihood that there will be no more babies for us, especially since I felt fairly strongly that I had one more in this lifetime. Of course, I don't know God's plan for me, and I'm trying to be patient and trust in Him and His timeline, but it's hard, especially since I really have no control over it. Sometimes I wish that I had Jake's positive outlook and confident attitude. I'm still confident that he'll make it through this and I'm trying to let that be my focus, but I still can't help but feel the sadness tonight.

All this being said, I still continue to be so grateful for all of the tender mercies that have been abundant in our lives. We truly have some of the most amazing friends and family that anyone could ever even hope for. 

A fun sidenote: Jake's shirt says "ThaBadDawg Fighter (on back) Winner" My mom made that for him this weekend. I just love it. :)

Quick Update

This is going to be just a quick update, as there's not much to report now. Jake continues to amaze everyone at just how awesome he is at kicking cancer's butt. Apparently, one of the chemo meds appears to be targeting just the leukemia cells, and his white blood cells remain relatively high. They're still lower than normal, but the doctor yesterday seemed to feel there was the possibility that his WBCs wouldn't be wiped out completely, which is a good thing. He did have to have a blood transfusion yesterday since his hematocrit dropped below 24, but for the most part he's doing amazing.

We were able to get the girls to babysit the baby tonight and Jake and I had our first in-hospital date. We rented a couple of movies, picked up some snacks and snuggled up on the hospital bed for a night in. It was so fabulous! I'm really grateful right now that Jake's such a low-key patient. We were able to watch the movies with minimal interruption, and nobody cared that we were even there. Afterward, we went for one of our walks. That's always nice, but the gloves are totally annoying when I'm trying to hold his hand. The hand condom totally gets in the way and feels weird. That's another thing on the ever-growing list of things I can't wait to change.

I'm looking forward to Jake coming home. It's so lonely here without him. I miss our regular face-to-face conversations and cooking dinner with him and all the little things we used to do. I love you babe! Hurry home!

Day 5

Jake is doing amazingly well. Aside from the occasional nausea, he hasn't had any of the nasty chemo side effects as of yet. He has a goal to walk a total of 2 miles every day (which is annoying because it's walking around the nurses station a billion times) and I think that the ability to keep his activity level up helps with the healing process and to keep his spirits up. He amazes me at how well he's doing so far. From what I understand, he may continue to do this well throughout the first phase of chemo. What's really going to be hard is transplant time. I'm definitely not looking forward to watching him go through all of that. Knowing Jake, though, he'll continue to do it with a smile on his face. He really is that amazing.

As for me, I never realized how much it takes to be the caregiver. I'm not complaining, just adjusting. I'm hoping that it won't take too much longer before I seem like I know what I'm doing. I am also trying to keep going in the same way I was before the diagnosis. For example, I had set up a couple of interviews before Jake was sick. I wasn't really looking for anything huge, but a part time job would have been nice for some extra play money. I had one this morning that I totally bombed, and I have one this afternoon that I was excited about before diagnosis, but I'm not so sure know. I'm in kind of a weird situation in the fact that Jake has an AMAZING job that is still letting him work and bring home the paycheck. So me getting job isn't necessary. At the same time I feel it would be nice to start putting a little extra away just to have, and also have an easier time keeping up my license. I'm still playing it by ear, and am confident that the right situation will become apparent.

The amount of gratitude I continue to feel on a daily basis is so overwhelming, yet refreshing. I continue to be so grateful for Jake's company and his amazing coworkers. We've received so many calls and comments and some of the most thoughtful gifts from them, as well as from many other friends and family. I'm grateful to a friend (with whom I would have lost touch if it weren't for Facebook) who thought of the things I didn't and brought me easily packed items to take to the hospital with us so Ryan and I can have lunch available. And I'm grateful for parents and grandparents who have anticipated our needs with Ryan and other things. It's not that I expect life to be easy, but these "little" things have such a big impact on how we're able to get through it. This small gratitude list is but a tiny piece of all of the things you all have done for us, and I am eternally grateful.

Jake

I remember the first time I had a conversation with Jake. It was quite non-traditional simply because we met on an online dating site, and our first conversation was through IM. I wasn't looking anything but friendship as I was jaded because of a very recent relationship that involved a lot of emotional abuse. Through this conversation, I really was drawn to Jake's way with words (as I'm sure many of you are experiencing). He seemed a little forward, but his insistence that he was a gentleman was appealing. The interest was cemented by a simultaneous mention of "alien repellent". We will never forget alien repellent, but if you asked me to recall its reference, I wouldn't be able to tell you.

Less than a week later, I was meeting Jake in person. I honestly didn't think that we'd end up where we are, but I knew that we would develop a deep friendship. In fact, in the beginning I really didn't think we'd end up dating. Over the course of the following month, I was finding out just what kind of a guy Jake is.

Those of you who know him well know that Jake is the most genuine man one could ever hope to know. He would do anything for ANYONE without a second thought. I've known him to give away money that I was certain we didn't have just because he wanted to help. (Well, that, and he enjoys writing "Mr Crowley" on all of the donation balloons/shamrocks/etc.) His stated reason for dating me initially was to show me that good guys do exist. I knew within 3 months just the kind of man he was, and I knew that I wanted to marry that kind of man.

In addition to his genuine nature, Jake has an amazing amount of strength. I've only seen him break down twice. Once was when we thought our relationship might be ending, the second was when our newborn son was on the bili lights and he was screaming and we weren't able to console him. We were devastated. I fully expected there to be similar devastation after his diagnosis, but it hasn't been there. Jake KNOWS, without a doubt, that he will beat this thing. With the amount of strength Jake has, how can he be wrong? And after reading his blog, how can you not agree? Jake's faith spills over to me, and I can tell you now that I KNOW he will beat cancer. And with the strength that is coming from all of you as well, we are well prepared.

Even though we had some crazy ups and downs before we got married, we still ended up together. I know that I couldn't be happier, and the kind of marriage we have is solid. One of the worries that went through my mind after the news of his diagnosis was starting to settle in was that our relationship may not survive, as so many relationships tend to fall apart when a major life-changing event is introduced. But I've had confirmation over the past few days that this trial will make our marriage virtually indestructible. It's not to say that it's the reason for our trial, but rather it is a blessing of our trial.

I feel guilty that I am not the strength to build Jake up, but that he is the strength that builds me up. I am continually trying to think of ways that I can help make his trial easier or more comfortable, but he's so amazing that his discomfort so far is minimal. We do not expect this to be the case the whole time, but it's just another blessing during this ordeal. It's also another confirmation that he will get through this.

I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to meet and marry this man. He has made me want to be a better person all the way around. He is supportive and pleasant and infinitely happy. I can't imagine life without him, and I look forward to many, many years of happiness with him.

Leukemia Awareness (among other things)

I was doing some research into leukemia and leukemia awareness. We all know that breast cancer awareness month is October, but how many knew that September is leukemia awareness month? I will admit that I did not before today, but since I became painfully aware of leukemia and how it affects patients and families on September 28th, I'm pretty sure I will never forget. I was also recently informed that the leukemia color is orange. I had intentions on changing my blog format/design at some point, but since I coincidentally chose these beautiful orange colors to represent my blog, I think it will stay for a while.

There are so many great fundraisers for the cause of finding a cure for leukemia and other liquid tumors. The first I'm aware of is coming up on October 13, 2012. My friend, Jenna is heading Team Jake Newren, and you can find more information here. So if you're interested in donating to find a cure, Light the Night is a great event.

Today has proven to be extremely hard and emotional for me. Before Jake was diagnosed, I decided I was going to make an attempt at becoming healthy. One of the ways I chose to do this was by signing up for a "boot camp" where I attend a fitness class twice a week and follow several other requirements outlined by the instructors. I completed my first week last week. The thought had crossed my mind to try to see what I can do to postpone my participation until next session, but after discussing with Jake and other family members, we have all decided that it's best that I keep going. If nothing else, it will allow for a little "me" time to help keep me grounded and sane. This class happens to be 20 minutes away from me, and in the opposite direction from where Jake is staying. As a result, I am unable to go up to visit Jake at least twice a week. Since this is the first day that I have not seen him, and since it's also the first day that I've had time to sit and think, it's been a very rough day.

I also received our first medical bill today, which leads to me having to make decisions I didn't think I'd have to make for a while. I'm faced with deciding on whether it's more beneficial to my family to pick up a full time job, or continue to be full time mom. I honestly don't know what to do.

On the other hand, my mom called with news of yet another tender mercy that was gifted to us by a family friend. They claim it's not much, but to us, it means a lot. So, thank you so much, Jay and Charlene! It really is so very appreciated, and so much more than we could have asked for.

We continue to be grateful for all your prayers and love. I'm grateful for the opportunity to meet so many new and amazing people. The Lord works in mysterious and amazing ways.

Chemo and Changes

At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I feel I must express our gratitude to everyone. Even people who don't know us well have reached out to us for support. We definitely feel the love and prayers from everyone. We recognize the blessings are in abundance in our lives now, and to say we are thankful is inadequate at best.

Today Jake received his first major dose of chemo. Not that I expected him to experience the side effects quickly, but I'm amazed at how well he did. He did mention that he had some nausea and loss of appetite at dinner. For those of you who know Jake, you know that he NEVER has a loss of appetite! In fact, Jake has a not-so-secret love affair with delicious food. Then again, hospital food is not delicious so maybe I don't blame him.

Things on my end have changed a bit as well. For example, I went to the store in sweats. In the middle of the day. (don't judge) I also recently went to the store in my workout clothes. In my defense, I had just worked out and that was painfully obvious, but the fact that I said I'd never do that made it extremely hard to swallow my pride and go buy our much needed items.

Other things that have changed are as follows:
1) I'm exhausted. It's not to say that I'm not exhausted on a somewhat regular basis (I do have a very active toddler, after all), but I haven't experienced this kind of exhaustion in quite some time. It's an emotional, deep kind of exhaustion that is extremely hard to explain.
2) I cry now. A lot. And publicly. I've always been the type to stifle my emotions, but I just can't now. And you know what? My tears lately are less of the sad kind, but more of the overwhelmed kind of gratitude. I'm not sure why this has been my reaction, but it makes it difficult to deny the work of the Lord in our lives.

It's not to say that I don't have sadness, because I do. But I also have a lot of hope and a lot of faith. Jake and I have been talking a lot about it lately as we've (mostly Jake) received a lot of comments on such a positive attitude and our ability to deal with our situation. The fact is, we have a choice. We can either be angry and frustrated and depressed, or we can recognize that we have an amazing team of providers and the support of so many people to help us make it through this thing. With that recognition, it's hard not to be optimistic or even somewhat excited about the long road ahead of us. Did I just say excited? I did, because we know that we have this amazing opportunity to rely completely on God, to learn the things that we are meant to learn in this life, and to build strength in our relationships with each other and with all of you. Now, I fully expect that excitement to dissipate at some time, especially when things get nasty and Jake feels like death warmed over, but right now it's how I feel. And I'm excited to GET OUR LIFE BACK!

I hope and pray that we are able to hold onto the strength that we feel right now. Knowing Jake, he will. Something I've come to learn and love about him is that he's the type that never lets anything get him down. He will continue to laugh throughout this. He will even continue to joke around and find the benefits to his situation. (Tonight he said something to the effect of "Yeah, the chemo is going to suck, but if it gets me better, I'm totally okay with that.") Admittedly, it makes me feel inadequate because I am supposed to be his strength when he goes through this, but he is mine. He is the reason I am where I am emotionally in this thing.

I'm anxious to get this thing done. I'll continue to update as possible, though I suspect eventually my posts will slow down. I also suspect the tone may change at some time. We love you all! We appreciate everything you do!

The C-word

Leukemia. It's amazing how much that little word has changed our life. It's only been two days since the diagnosis, and I'm still trying to comprehend really what this means, but I do know that things aren't going to be the same. At least not for a while. You are always aware of the possibility that cancer can happen to anyone, but you never truly think it will happen to you. You especially never think that the love of your life is going to be affected by it, and that the road ahead is going to be extremely long and hard. But as was confirmed on Friday, it really can happen to anyone.

 On Friday, Jake was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL). This is a very aggressive form of leukemia, and while it's quite common as far as childhood leukemias, it's very rare as an adult. To add insult to injury, Jake also tested positive for the Philidelphia Chromosome, which means that he will need a bone marrow transplant. We were really hoping that this wasn't the case, but it is what it is and you have to play the cards you're dealt. I never really understood what a loved one goes through when hearing that a spouse or child or other close friend or family member is dealing with a new diagnosis such as this. Honestly, I'm not sure I understand what I'm going through now. Some of the thoughts that have gone through my mind are such:

 "No way. Those tests have to be wrong. My husband is healthy!"
 "What the hell am I supposed to do if he dies?"
 "A month in the hospital?! Are you kidding me?!"
 "Does this mean no more babies?"
 "How are we going to pay for all of this?" and then that's followed by "Does it matter? Jake's more important than the money. We'll figure something out."

 Of course, that's a very condensed and scattered list of some of the things I've thought. My thought process through this whole thing has been much less than organized. And it turns out that we may not have anymore babies, depending on how things go between now and the transplant. After the transplant, it will be certain that we will not have anymore. But that's jumping too far ahead.

 Right now I know this: Jake starts chemotherapy today. He will be in the hospital for the next month, with the goal of putting the leukemia into remission. At that point, he'll likely go through another phase of treatment once or twice, preparing his body for the transplant. The transplant requires another 6 weeks of hospitalization. The risks of the transplant are scary, but if everything goes well, in 6 years we will be able to say he is cured.

 I'm incredibly heartbroken over his diagnosis. Honestly, if anything happened to him I'd be lost. I'm confident, however, that he has what it takes to beat this thing, and I'll be standing behind him the whole way. And even more than that, I know he has an army of some of the most amazing people I've ever met cheering him on the whole way. We are so incredibly blessed by the amount of love and support we have received over the past couple of days. I don't know what I would do without it.

 Jake: You made a promise to me right before we headed out to the hospital. You promised me that you were coming home. I look forward to having you back here, because even watching our shows is incredibly lonely without you. I love you so incredibly much. I know that we have so much more to experience together, and I'm excited to get started living our life again. This is but a temporary delay. I promised to be there in sickness or in health. I never anticipated sickness would be this, but I'm not backing down. In the meantime, I look forward to our romantic strolls around the hall in your Bane mask. ;) ILY FOREVER! NEVER GIVE UP!!!