My kid is in juvie

Should I raise my hand?  It's joys & concerns, and this is a huge heavy concern.  It would probably really throw him off up there.  I'd get to see some church ladies squirm.  That could be entertaining.  I don't think I can say this without crying.  I don't want to throw my kids out there for the judgment and the gossip.  I know the power of the prayer list, but I also know the gossip it feeds.  But this hurts the same as cancer.  It does.  Jesus knew and put it on the same short list.  I just can't say it without crying.  

It has been a very rough week and I have shed many tears.  My bonus kid came to me in July with a bit of a rap sheet.  I haven't written about it because he's a kid and I've felt it's his story to tell.  He is a insanely talented kid, too, who tells his story at his own pace, in his own lyrics, and to his own audience.  His grandpa reminded me, though, that there is probably something I am supposed to learn here, too.  When I met with him to tell him all B's probation officer had told me and the consequences that I believed were best after the latest series of bad choices, he said that he tries to remember there is probably something here for him to learn, too.  Fighting tears he said, "What is it that God wants me to take from this too?" 

Why did I stop that?  I listened for the lessons with Mr. 1inamillion's cancer journey.  I knew I was along the path with him for a reason, too.  The biggest thing I've noticed is that life amidst juvenile delinquency is a lot like life amidst oncology, at least from the driver's seat.  There are PO appointments. Psychology appointments.  Substance abuse group therapy and 1-on-1 sessions.  A sentencing hearing is a lot like scan results.  You are forced to wait for a long, indefinite period of time in a waiting room for someone who does not know you but because of a higher education they're qualified to sentence you to months of whatever treatment they believe will hopefully put this behind you for good.  or at least for now. 

The language is different.  The juvenile court system has it's own set of words and acronyms much like, but completely different than, oncology.  I'm slow, but learning them.  Of course B asked for his consequences with actions and bad choices.....not unlike some cancer patients (smokers and tan addicts) but certainly unlike most and Mr. 1inamillion.  While waiting for B's last hearing after two days of scared, wrong choices, my heartbreak and anguish felt the same.  Seeing the kid you claim and love in handcuffs and a jumpsuit hurts.  It's heartbreaking.  It hurts to tell a lawyer you just met that No, we will not take him home and allow intense probation.  It is not what is best for him and he will run.  We believe his best option now is the boys ranch.

I don't know firsthand what Dane thought or felt lying in a hospital bed, and I can't understand what B is thinking or feeling inside a cell.  I do know that sitting outside of a juvenile detention center, the anguish felt is not much different than that felt sitting outside of a hospital.  This is one thing I've learned.  I understand why Jesus put both on the short list of the least of these in Matthew 25. 

I knew before this last week that the kid had been whittling away at my high horse.  As moms, we look at other people's kids as trouble for our own.  Stay away from him, he's a bad influence.  Stay away from her, that girl is trouble.  I have said to B, just as to things 1 & 2, all of your friends are welcome here until they specifically give me a reason not to be.  There are a couple that I will chase off of my lawn with a snow shovel because they earned my wrath firsthand.  There are friends he has made that were preceeded by the gossip and attitude from other parents or teenagers.  I am trying to offer those kids the same grace and chances I want for my kid because I know my kid's heart, and I know many probably judge him and consider him the bad influence.  I tell you that some of those deemed trouble by the gossip mill have proven to be true friends who came through to save his life and encourage the right choices. 

This week my horse dropped a lot lower.  I've judged.  I've blamed.  I carried a burden I did not want and did not believe I should have to carry.  Why God? I don't want to do it.  I know, be the Mom he needs, not the Mom he wants.  It's not my job to make you happy or comfortable, as a parent the goal is to get you to adulthood as a responsible, contributing citizen.  Oh, God, I shouldn't have to be the hard ass mom.  Was I tagged in to just be the bitch?  It's Christmas. 

He's going to miss Christmas.  HE IS NOT.  He will miss the tradition and commercialization we've made it about, but not the grace.  Jesus was born in a barn...amidst shit & flies...he spent his first birthday and second as a refugee in Africa fleeing Herod's genocide.  Jesus came to make all things new and he started in shit & flies.  B is not missing Christmas.  He may have the truest Christmas of all.  OH LORD, PLEASE LET HIM KNOW THAT.  PLEASE, GOD, MAKE YOUR PRESENCE SO CLEAR AND OBVIOUS TO HIM.  I AM TALKING BIG, BURLY ANGEL IN THE CELL 'FEAR NOT' KIND OF OBVIOUS.  PLEASE, GOD.

Oh, it hurt to see him like that.  To let the judge say we didn't want him.  That isn't true.  We want what's best and we know we're not it. It's not fair being the bonus mom that has to be the hard ass mom.  God, that was gut wrenching.  So now you understand why I couldn't let her do it.  Oh, Lord, I do.  I am so sorry.  I can't imagine!  I can not even imagine doing this if I had birthed him and cuddled him.  If I had overcome all that she has, I would no doubt fall.  I would crumble.  Oh, Lord.  Please comfort her. Please be with her and help her, too.  Please help me be the mom you need me to be for B. and for her. 

So, it is Christmas Eve and my heart is heavy with concern.  My kid is in juvie.  With the same confidence I had before for Mr. 1inamillion, I am asking for prayers.  It's not a coincidence Jesus put them both on the short list.  Broken people are just broken, and hurt just hurts.


...I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me. (Matthew 25:26)
...When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?
The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.  (-Matthew 25:39-40)

This Mom's been busted

Dear Thing 1,

Bubby, you’re right.  I do go to the mailbox and take out the letters written to Santa Claus.  Just as my parents did for me, and their parents before them, I get your gifts from Santa Claus and I fill your stockings.

You’ve heard him referred to as Saint Nicholas, right?  Saint Nicholas was really a Christian bishop in a country that is now known as Turkey.  He was known for giving generous gifts to the poor.  He was religious from an early age and devoted his life to Christianity. 

 

He was just one dude.  No elves. No flying reindeer.  He was just one Christian who gave generously, trying to follow Christ’s example.  In doing so, a beautiful tradition  of Christmas spirit was created (known as far back as the 1820s!) that has grown to the epic folk tale of Santa Claus.  So you are right, he is not real, but I think the spirit of generosity and celebration that is Santa Claus is legit.

God gave us the greatest gift of Jesus on the first Christmas.  We attempt to give generously each year to glorify it.  The surprise and anticipation that comes with the magic of Santa is just one of the ways we celebrate Christmas, Jesus Christ’s birthday.

One day many, many years from now, I hope you have the joy of stealing letters from the mailbox and sneaking around to fill stockings just as I do now and your grandparents did before me.  Right now you see the joy and magic as yours-- in receiving gifts from Santa Claus; but I think the real joy & magic is mine—seeing your faces light up Christmas morning with surprise and happiness.  So pretty please, help this Santa Momma out and try to at least fake it a while longer and don’t tell your sister. 

Merry Christmas. 

Love,

MOM

P.S.  I am the tooth fairy and I also hide the eggs at Easter.  I have no idea where those two traditions originated, but your grandparents played the roles for me, and one day you will play them, too.

Last post I talked about a greater desire to celebrate Christmas this year and feeling a greater sense of its meaning and joy.  Don't get me wrong, I do have my moments.  I would be lying if I said I didn't.  I would be lying if I said I certainly did not tell Amy Grant to suck it as she was singing on my radio about the most wonderful time of the year as I drove away from donating off Mr. 1inmillion's coats and shoes.  It would also be a lie to tell you I'm singing happy Christmas carols even half as much as Dolly Parton's Hard Candy Christmas. 

I'd be lying if I said no, I'm not lonely.  No, I don't miss having an adult with whom to have conversations and of course I absolutely enjoy having kids around me all. the. time.  It would be a definite untruth to tell you there's no way I've looked at online dating sites.  If I did, it certainly did not result in laughter, freak outs and a near panic attack. Lies.  (Let me just say, those single sites are massive a high way pile up.  You shouldn't slow down to gawk at the wreckage but oh my gravy you can't stop looking. Alot of freak shows out there.)  No way did I let all three kids in on the fun of rapid-fire profile rating yesterday and no, I have no idea why any one of my children might say sexy-love-train-plus some random number and giggle uncontrollably.  Of course not.  I am mom of the year.  Liar. Liar. Liar. Yes, my pants are on fire. 

Many moments may be consumed by anger or sadness, but they are just moments.  There is deep down joy in Christmas. Far beyond our circumstances joy.  Also the grace of a savior and forgiveness for my sins.  Such as lying. 

Weepy Hot Mess, Thanks for Asking

It's a standard greeting: "How are you?" with a standard reply: "Fine."  We don't expect more of a response when we ask it, and probably are afraid to give a truthful answer.  I know I am.  Lately my truly honest answer to "How are you?" is "Oh I'm a weepy hot mess, thank you for asking."

God blessed me with a few friends that get to receive my honest answers, and for some of them it won't even be censored based on when & where!  I ran into my lifelong BFF (seriously, since we were 1 year old) in the front aisle of Target the week before thanksgiving.  In front of a poor sweet newly hired cashier, our exchange went something like,

"Are you ready for Thanksgiving?" 

"Ugh, not really.  I'm really just freaking annoyed with it.  My husband's dead, Target is opening at 9 AND my brother's not wanting to do dinner until 4 o'clock.  That's all too much damn change for me.  Stupid, I know, but we usually do dinner around 1.  Dane's gone, black Friday is starting on Thursday AND we're changing the time we eat?!  I'm sorry, I know I'm a brat, but that's just past my freaking tolerance for change."

"Well, you can come have dinner with us.  We are doing dinner at 1:00 and everyone is invited as long as they're not related to me!  We're doing a friends thanksgiving this year."

"That sounds perfect!  If stuff is going to be different, I think we might as well just change it all and do everything differently.  What do I bring?" 

..And it was perfect.  We had a wonderful, fun and relaxed meal with a mix of new and old friends.  I've realized there isn't as big of a gaping hole in different.  We did go to our traditional family gathering at 4 o'clock and I of course felt Mr. 1inamillion's absence, but not as great had that been our only holiday meal.  I did black Friday shopping on Thursday with my sister and two nieces and the following Saturday we did family pictures.  I brought along the dog pack, because again there isn't as big of a gaping hole in different.  They are my greatest source of joy & distraction. Thankfully our photographer is another dear friend God gave me that welcomes my honesty and chaos.

In my mindset of 'might as well just change everything' I also changed up my meds.  I saw my doctor the day before Thanksgiving and decided to try something different for my Fibromyalgia.  My current med plus my tendency to eat my feelings over the last two years has brought on an extra 25 pounds.  According to my doc, really my only hope of losing weight is to go completely off the medicine.  Awesome.  So I wanted to try the newest fibro drug, which means also going off the antidepressants I had been taking.  Oh, and my previous birth control pills apparently were causing blood clots for alot of patients so that had to change too.  Sure, might as well just change it all.  Everything is different anyway, let's just get it all over with now.

So...holidays+dead husband+altering meds+fluctuating hormones=1 weepy hot mess.  Lesson learned. 

Many of my tears are not just the sadness of losing Mr. 1inamillion.  I think Christmas is truly resonating with me more now than ever.  It is because of Christ that I know that all is okay.  The birth of a savior is why we hold comfort in heaven and everlasting life.  It is the first offering of grace and forgiveness. It is why we have joy much deeper and beyond our circumstances and hope of new future.  I am overwhelmed by it. 

This morning in Sunday school, with a group that could also receive my honest answers, we were talking about giving up the idea of a perfect Christmas and how difficult this season can be for those of us suffering divorce, the loss of a loved one, a job loss or other hardships.  Some find it too hard to celebrate.  I was too overwhelmed with tears, but what I wanted to say is that amidst this grief I am also feeling greater joy and a greater desire to celebrate the birth of our Savior.  It is fulfillment in God's promise, a reminder of his love and plans for a hope and a future for us. It is because of God's gift of His son that we can stand 'joyful in hope, remain patient in our affliction and stay faithful in prayer.' 

We spoke about the cross in our class last Wednesday.  We talked about the crucifixion and how Jesus even questioned the plan, asking to skip it.  That took me back to my many prayers for heart attacks.  I was terrified of hospice.  Didn't think I could do it.  Couldn't watch Mr. 1inamillion suffer and die. 

I left Wednesday's class thinking about how grateful I am for hospice.  I am grateful for the final days, seeing him linger between here and heaven.  I have never doubted, but am so very glad to have seen him see it.  The cancer in his brain left him not fully aware of what was happening here, so we didn't really get a goodbye from him but he did say he was going to heaven.  We knew he was seeing people that we weren't.  There was a huge smile on his face when asked if he sees Jesus.  And of course there was the dog.  It was the saddest and most beautiful time.

Not long after arriving home from Wednesday's class I read that Dane's young cancer buddy was now in her final days.  She has been in the children's hospital in KC for many months, in ICU for far too long.  Taylor's body would not recover and she was done fighting.  She is in respiratory failure and saying her goodbyes to family and dear friends.  It is devastating for all of us here, but she is ready for her final reward and knows her grandparents are waiting for her.

I have cried many tears in the last few days for her family.  I have cried for my own loss as well.  My chest physically aches for them.  I have wanted so desperately for them not to have our hurts too.  I am also grateful that she is so wise beyond her years and is confident in what awaits her.  She has set such an example for our community with her faith and fearless nature.  The rally of her classmates and our town is incredibly touching.  I am praying for her parents and her sister, as well as the many friends that will be left behind and thanking God that they have these final moments with her.

It's a boy and other little updates

There have been a lot of changes happening around the 1inamillion household over the last several weeks.

I've said goodbye to some very special friends as they moved away.  On the same weekend, even.  Leaving me pretty emotional.  One, thankfully, only moved a few hours away.  She is someone who lost her husband when they were young, with five year old twins and pregnant.  She is the one friend with whom I can most identify and has helped me face my fears, and then my reality.  She's a massage therapist who was a critical part of Mr. 1inamillion's care team, helping him manage his pain.  The other was also instrumental in caring for Dane.  He is war vet who has survived a somewhat insane list of injuries, has MS, heart disease and lets all of it slow him down just a teeny tiny bit.  He chauffeured Mr. 1inamillion to and from appointments in St. Louis and helped encourage and counsel each of us as no one else could. 

Their moves have hit me in a weird way.  The changes are great for each of them and that makes me happy.  I know that months ago losing them would have been devastating to my sanity and our ability to continue on as we did.  I am so amazed and grateful at how God gives us exactly the right people at exactly the right time, as well as give us exactly the right opportunities at exactly the right time.  I will miss them both tons, but am okay with saying goodbye.  That in itself brings a weird kind of sadness.

Other changes have sort of been my own doing.  Apparently you're not supposed to make any big decisions, big purchases or big changes during the first year of grieving.  It's what I read in one of those 'how to be a widow' books and I think my therapist had even mentioned it.

Oops. 

I bought a minivan.  I know, I was soooo excited to get rid of the minivan in 2009.  No one wants to drive a minivan.  I remember being asked to choose service options at the trusted repair shop in Mayberry one time and responding with, "Dude.  It's a minivan.  I really don't care, just do as little as you have to."  And after driving it for five years, I still couldn't park it.  Things 1 and 2, however, are growing, getting louder and making every attempt they can to kill each other.  I just needed them further away from my head and each other.  Each salesperson did the 'so what are you looking for?' and I responded with, 'probably a minivan.  I love my Escape, but I need my kids further away from my head and each other'.  So I am back to cruising a minivan and I still suck at parking it.

The minivan really isn't that big of deal.  I just thought I'd lead with a small one for you.

Beyond expanding the vehicle, I have expanded the family.  Not another dog...but that is probably just because we live in town and we're at the limit.  The 1inamillion house is actually now home to a 16 year old boy and I am officially his legal guardian (for real, people think I am that trustworthy).  He is one of my niece's best friends so he's been a part of the extended family we choose and needed some stability (for real, people think I am that stable). 

It's a big change that you might think I'd seek a lot of counsel on, but I intentionally did not.  Sometimes the opinions and advice of others are noisy and make it difficult to hear the whispering voice of God.  I wanted to clearly hear the whisper of God on this one.  I did ask Things 1 and 2 on multiple occasions and each time they were all for it.  The last time I asked Lucy she said, "why do you keep asking us that?  Braden moving in with us is not that big of a deal.  It's just Braden."  Well, it kind of is a big deal, but okay.  It just makes perfect sense to me, too.  I also asked my 25 year old bonus daughter (Dane's oldest), because who could be a better judge of my taking in a bonus kid?  If I remember correctly, she said it was crazy and awesome and of course I would be awesome at taking care of a teenager.  (Made this wicked stepmother's heart swell and an eye tear.)  She also laughed and asked what Grandpa thought.  I told her I think he thinks I'm crazy, but he raised us to be this kind of crazy so it's totally his own fault.

Honestly, I KNOW it takes a village to successfully raise kids.  I've been so dependent on Gabe and Lucy's over the challenging years we've had.  I am blessed and grateful to be able to play a key role in another village.  We love him, we want him and we have chosen him to be included in our family.  Again I am grateful for the way God gives us exactly the right people at exactly the right time and gives us exactly the right opportunities at exactly the right time. 

Part of the delay in this blog post was that I did feel there were some other people who should not learn I have a new bonus son and things 1 & 2 happily have a new big brother via the internet.  So yesterday I called my mother-in-law and then my brother to say 'hey, I have a teenager.  It's a boy!'.  I am sure there will be other friends and family who think they should have gotten a phone call, too, but I've had thing 3 for about a month and my big brother didn't even know yet.  I'm sorry, but I'm horrible about calling so seriously, It's either the blog or a very curious Christmas photo.  So....

It's a boy! 

5 feet, 9 inches and 160 lbs 

We are excited & blessed to announce the arrival of Thing 3 

Please join us in welcoming him to the 1inamillion family

Prayer Request

Will you please join me in praying for our young friend Taylor?  She is Mr. 1inamillion's little cancer buddy.  She is part of our church family and has been battling leukemia for a few years and they grew close through their fight.  She is really struggling right now, and honestly I am struggling with her struggle.  My attempts at prayer result in sobs and anger. 

When I think about her, I cry.  I haven't been able to visit because I am certain I will crumble to tears.  My prayer for her starts with crying, then leads to pleading, then leads to an angry outburst.  Cancer treatments are discussed in odds and percentages in success rates, so in my mind Taylor should have a great outcome.  We lost my husband, so we should get to keep Taylor.  Period.  You don't get her too.  You just don't. 

Yesterday she was moved to ICU with lungs full of fluid and a scary forecast.  I sobbed and cried to God, then got angry with God and then began with crazy wifely threats (because threatening someone in heaven makes perfect sense)....
DANE!  You protect our girl.  If you are standing on the otherside for her, then so help me, it better be to body-block that damn gate and send her fifteen-year-old butt back down here! We need a victory.  That family deserves a victory! Your kids should see a victory!
Please God, I want a victory over cancer. 

This morning her Mom posted that things looked much better than last night as her lungs looked clearer.  Still critical, but stabilizing.  I'm still sobbing my prayers, crying out to God and threatening my dead husband today.  So clearly I'm not yet stable.  Without a doubt, I believe in the power of prayer.  Therefore it might certainly be helpful for a few more folks less damaged then me to pray for Taylor as well. 

meet & greet

My biggest struggle lately has been missing him.  And honestly my struggle that lies in missing him... really is that I haven't. 

I have felt disconnected from the friends and family around us that grieve for Mr. 1inamillion because I don't.  I have felt like the friend they just lost, I lost piece by piece over the last five years.  Sarcoma had already robbed me of my husband, my partner.  The person I lost on June 14th was my charge, my patient.  I've been a caretaker, not a wife and not much of my Dane was still there.  I wasn't burdened by grief that day.  In a big way, I was finally set free.

I've been waiting for it to hit me, for something to happen that would bring back memories of my husband and not just memories of the man for which I've been responsible.  I've been stretching back, trying to grasp something to put me in touch with the sadness that has loomed just out of reach.  Today it finally happened. 

Andy Griffith died. 

I actually smiled when I read the sad news, IMMEDIATELY envisioning Mr. 1inamillion in a meet & greet line waiting for Andy Griffith.  Then I cried, I think for the first time since actually leaving the hospital.  Artist meet & greets were one of his favorite parts of the job, and it was HIM that I imagined, not the sarcoma patient.

In my fifteen years married to country radio, I had grown to consider a meet & greet line similar to herding cattle, but Dane did it for over thirty years and still loved it.  Before or after concerts, radio personalities, contest winners and often fan club members have a chance to get a very quick autograph and photo with the artist.  We stand in line and wait as a road manager or PR rep prods everyone through with Nashville charm.  I was over it a long time ago, but he always really enjoyed the quick greeting and photo opportunity.  Many of our pictures together have someone else in between us.

He also really loved TVLand and we watched a lot of the Andy Griffith show.  I imagine he had something clever to say to him.  Maybe about Mayberry, but I would bet it was more than likely a sarcastic comment about waiting on me (but in my defense, Mr. 1inamillion was always in a big freaking hurry). 

to the vet we go

So I've been feeling a little lost outside of the caretaker role and yesterday I considered just rolling through the Walgreens' drive-thru to say hello.  Maybe swinging into a waiting room for a bit to peruse five year old magazines. 

This morning I awoke at 1:30 AM to the sound, and smell, of a sick puppy.  Again.  Brody was sick in the wee hours of the morning on Sunday too.  He acts like he feels fine but is having continued tummy trouble so off to the vet we went and we waited.  And waited.  He is a completely adorable, loveable, sweet baby boy who took the opportunity to steal the hearts of everyone there.  Mr. 1inamillion always chatted up and made friends with the receptionists, too.  I was feeling quite at home, but after 45 minutes I asked one of the girls if they were just back there doing rock, paper, scissors to determine who has to deal with me.  She assured me they were just busy with surgeries and that she'd get one of them up in there in just a few minutes which she did. 

Brody of course won the losing vet over as soon as he came in.  I was really fearing parvo, but he didn't think that is the case as Brodilicious still looks and acts like he feels well.  I explained anyway that we can't do parvo.  We just lost our boxer and my husband just died so we can't have parvo.  He agreed that no, we can't have parvo and assured me he didn't think that's the case, silently cursing his choice of scissors.  He thought it was a common parasite (I'll call for test results in the morning) and then proceeded to make certain we covered all our bases to get the boy better.  We left there with four prescriptions and a new bag of food that's supposed to be gentle on tender tummies. 

So now I am dishing out medicine to a dog (3 pills two times a day and a liquid medicine once a day) and sadly feeling a bit more normal.  Of course I do know it's my normal, not normal normal.  And I know that it's my previous normal at that.  And I know I'll find the new one eventually.



He's stinkin' cute, huh?!

forgetting something

Do you ever walk into a room looking for something and can't remember what it was?  That is my constant state right now.  I am in a constant state of 'I know I'm forgetting something, but what?'  I am keeping a to do list and checking it twice, but it seems like there is a lot I'm forgetting to add to the list.

I am just feeling very odd, very off balance.  I guess a sudden loss of 200 pounds will do that to a person.

We are trying to establish new normal this week.  I am back to work this week with short days.  Short days to ease my separation anxiety from Things 1 & 2 and because I sit at my desk and can't remember exactly what it is that I am supposed to be doing.  Next week begins a new round of system testing, which is at the core of my job for the last six years.  My hope is that muscle memory will just take over.

I am not one to wish I knew the future.  I am quite certain that had I known years ago what lied ahead, I would have run for the freakin' hills.  Right now, though, I would like to know how long it will take before I don't feel like he's just missing in action, instead of really gone?

The day the Lord has made

"Today is the day that the Lord has made.  Let us rejoice and be glad in it."  This is what I am reciting in my head this morning.  This is what I recite in my head nearly every morning that leads into a day I dread.  Today is the day that the Lord has made and it is the day that we put Mr. 1inamillion's ashes to rest. 

To be honest, this has been somewhere in the back of my head for nearly fourteen and a half years.  Tomorrow will be our fifteenth wedding anniversary, and October will be fifteen years since they found the first sarcoma.  I basically went from planning a wedding to wondering about a funeral.  Surely I'm not the only one that starts to wonder about funerals and death at diagnosis.  Perhaps I am, though.  I've spent the last few days laughing as much as, if not more than, I've cried and thinking that maybe....just maybe, I'm just not right. 

There will be carefully selected country gospel as the prelude and postlude.  There will be fifty pictures in the slide show.  We will hear Ronnie Milsap's "What a Difference You've Made" because with over thirty years in country music, Ronnie always remained Dane's favorite.  Jars of Clay's "Valley Song" will be performed for the Big Kid, and "Long Way Home" for me and things 1 & 2.  His ashes will be buried near my mother's grave. 

I didn't give our pastor any instruction on what I wanted him to speak, just the warning that I might interrupt him if he's getting it wrong.  After all, I did interrupt the hospital chaplain's prayer.  Multiple times.  My sister in law apparently questioned if I may have lost my mind.

Before Mr. 1inamillion's body was taken from the hospital and we all left, a hospital chaplain came in to pray with us.  And he got it wrong.  Multiple times.  In my defense, I had just spent hours coaching this man that I love to heaven.  I cheered him home.  I watched him suffer for too many years and it was finally coming to an end.  I told him how much we loved him, how much he deserved it and how we would be okay.  I told him to just run to Jesus.  Hours spent encouraging him home, and this chaplain wants to go on and on about how depressed and angry we are.  No we're not.  NO, WE'RE NOT.  That will not be what we express to our Lord and Savior over my husband.

We are sad.  We are grieving for our loss, but we can't be angry.  We can't be depressed.  There will be moments, I know, but we can't sit in it.  We will not cling to that.  If we believe what Jesus promised us about heaven for Dane and we believe God's promise in Jeremiah of his plans of a hope and a future for all of us, we must be grateful for it.  We must rejoice and be glad in it. 

June

June's a big month in the 1inamillion house.  The big kid turned 25 on Friday.  Mr. 1inamillion and I would be married 15 years on the 21st.  He would turn 49 on the 27th.  And of course there is today.

The calendar had been taunting me.  All that this month holds began rolling through my mind as soon as we were told at the hospital that there were brain mets and how fast things might progress.  I wondered how quickly Dane would pass, and how it might land on the calendar amongst the special days.  Would we make it 15 years?  Would he make it to 49?  Turns out he actually knew. 

Early last week while in the hospital, he insisted to me that he was going.  When I said"'really? when are you going?", he answered "fourteenth."  I asked where he was going and he again said "fourteenth."  He told our sister-in-law he was going tomorrow, and after she asked him several times where, he whispered, "Heaven."  That conversation took place on the thirteenth. 

Today was our first 'public' outing since his passing.  I thought it might be tough facing all of the concerned friends at church on any ol' Sunday, but today is Father's Day.  I had no idea how hard it might be for Things 1 and 2.  I asked Gpa and the uncles to join us today, all but one of which don't make church a habit.  As Gabe and Lucy were being reminded it's Father's Day and their father was gone, I wanted them to also be reminded that there are men who love them bunches and are ready to stand in the gap.  I told Thing 1 this morning that they would be joining us and while no one can ever take Daddy's place, there are a lot of people who love us and will be there whenever we need them and I wanted him to know that. 

We talked this afternoon about the fact that it's kind of cool that Daddy got to spend Father's Day with his daddy for the first time in years.  Thing 1 said, "And it's ok, we got to spend Father's Day with our Father God and Grandpa."

June 14th, 2012

I always thought all dogs go to heaven, but now I know for sure.  It has been nearly two weeks since we said our goodbyes to Miss Britney.  Just thirteen days since Mr. 1inamillion told her he'd see her soon.  Little did I know when I heard that just how soon it would be. 

Yesterday a dear, dear friend sat with Dane while family took a break from the hospital.  She had been at this stage before with her own family and was familiar with how end of life progresses.  He pointed to people in the room only he could see.  She assured him they were here to help him if he'd let them.  Once he understood that, he began to relax a bit and then he began to pet a dog beside his bed.  He said to her, "Isn't she pretty?".

When family returned, he continued to pet a dog only he could see along the bed.  He motioned down beside the bed as if calling a dog, and he kept insistently telling his brother to "just put her on the bed."  They brought up a stuffed dog from the gift shop for him that he began to pet.  That with some country music comforted him and he finally relaxed into a deep sleep. 

This morning when I arrived to his bedside, he was peaceful and comfortable, although his body was working very had to continue on.  The nurse told me we were probably within hours.  I told him I needed him to give me just one last instruction and tell me if he wanted the kids there.  Thankfully, he gave me a very clear answer.  No.  His mother and I each sat on a bedside and held his hand.  I told him how much I loved him, how proud I was of him, how grateful I was to him for giving me Gabe and Lucy.  I told him he earned his reward in heaven, and that I just knew Jesus was standing there saying "Come on, boy.  You've earned it."  I told him he fought so hard and he shouldn't hesitate to go.  We loved him very much and would be okay.  Each of our siblings arrived and he was surrounded by family.  Thing 1 was tucked safely away at Grandpa's house, Thing 2 spending the day with surrogate Nana. 

Mr. 1inamillion made his final steps to heaven at 11:20 a.m. today.  I don't know which dog led the way.  Maybe it was Britney or maybe it was his favorite childhood pet boxer, Palonni.  I know it wasn't our precious Harley because although she and him had a very special bond, she wasn't pretty.  Maybe she was the one he wanted on the bed.  I will never know who welcomed him home, just that at least one of them was a dog.

Dane & Britney

Tuesday

My filter is broken.  If you've read much of my  blog you might remember that I have admitted to swearing like a sailor.  Today my filter is broken and I'm swearing like a sailor. 

Mr. 1inamillion has been incredibly restless.  Yesterday the doctor was concerned that he may be overly sedated so she adjusted his medications.  He still isn't struggling with physical pain, but he has been very agitated.  He's saying the expected random craziness and keeps insisting on getting up and leaving, but he seems to be getting weaker by the hour.  Today they were adding medicines to help with the delirium and said we need to wait out the adjustments.  I have spent all of my time with him these two days trying to calm him down, convince him to get back or stay in bed; basically holding him captive. 

My patience is shot, my energy is spent.  I am now at home alone in a quiet house, attempting to decompress and repair my filter.  The doctor may not deserve nice words from me now, but she ain't around and I do really love his nurse.  My husband is slipping before my eyes.  He may not be physically hurting, but he is confused and visibly uncomfortable mentally.  And it has been really pissing me off.  The nurse did speak with his doctor again and she received an okay to increase some meds to calm him.  Hopefully it works, my filter my be beyond repair today and tomorrow I will verbally have that doctor's ass for breakfast with my soy latte. 

We all have cleared out of the hospital for the afternoon, hoping he might settle down and rest.  Mr. 1inamillion is very beloved.  He has had a consistent stream of visitors which I do believe he has enjoyed.  Now, however, we think it may be contributing to his frustration and confusion as he is balancing between two realms - what's really happening around him and where his mind might be residing.  We want to keep his guests to close friends and family, just one or two at a time and see if it might help. 

I know I've been due for a filter breakdown and I know it's okay.  I do believe that God wants our honest cries.  As I searched for and watched the video I felt appropriate to include with this blog post, I fell to pieces with honest, continuous sobs. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=zOHJghBU0XA

Sunday

The last two days have been good days for Mr. 1inamillion. He had many visitors and was able to visit with most. His long term memory has remained pretty solid thus far. He started his career in radio when he was just fifteen (being the trophy wife that I am, I was just two) and I think he had a friend or coworker from darn near every station he was ever on. He has always loved what he does, so we have spent a lot of time in radio the last few days. There's been lots of memories shared about the changes over the last 30+ years, and even when he was not chatting with industry buddies, we've spent a bit of time in radio stations as his mind has wandered in his happy places.

Today has not been such a good day. He's had more dear friends and family visiting, but he has just slept most of the day. He was much more wobbly on his feet this morning and we've seen more signs of small seizures and more confusion.

He has thought we were on a cruise ship much of the last week. Yesterday he did ask me what exactly the Professor had said, telling me that it had registered. I explained it again and Mr.1inamillion asked "what if it's six months? What if I'm on this boat for six months?"

"Then we'll be very grateful for the six months."

Confession

I have a confession. I pray for heart attacks. I've prayed for heart attacks for years. Lord, please just come quickly. Please just take him home quickly and put an end to this suffering. Please, Lord, I don't want to see him hurting anymore. I can't do hospice. Please Lord, just let him have a heart attack.

I prayed for heart attacks.... and I used to feel terribly guilty about that.

It's amazing how you can read or hear the same bible stories over and over, but each time hear or grasp something different. As we studied the crucifixion this Easter the portion that grabbed me was when Jesus prayed in the garden just before they came to get him. He knew what was waiting, he knew what he had to do but he was scared and asked that this cup be passed over him. The Lord wrapped in human flesh had fear and prayed to skip the whole darn thing.

Meaning to me that Jesus basically prayed for a heart attack, too. Guilt relieved.


Of course He also prayed that God's will be done, and I did grab that as well. So I am doing my best to pray within God's will and accept this journey. Without a doubt, I still hate this and want my Mr. 1inamillion healthy or quickly home. But I will walk this path that He wants me to.


If you have a few more minutes, take a listen:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GocT5SAQPNM&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Friday

No blog yesterday, as Wednesday sucked me dry. Mr. 1inamillion was moved to in-patient hospice and Thing 1 came home early from camp to visit. Up until Wednesday, the hardest things I'd ever done were give birth and quit smoking. Telling Dane that the fight was over, then telling Gabe there were no more treatments to help his Daddy and what lied ahead of us completely depleted me.

Yesterday they changed up pain meds so Mr. 1inamillion had a much better day. He rested well, visited with family, friends and slept through the night. He ate a bit at lunch, the first in days. This morning he had some breakfast and was up visiting with a dear friend when I arrived.

Today I had a slow start. I sat and enjoyed my first cup of coffee with my mother-in-law then got in a workout. Before I walked and ran the dogs, I got in a quick yoga practice. The day is always better when I start my day at the top of the mat and the foot of the Savior. It's impossible for me to be single focused, so my best prayer time is when my body is in motion. They say that when the body is moving the mind is still and open. Prayer is a two way conversation, we've got to remember to stop pleading and talking over God all the time. This morning after my mind was still and open, my prayer on the mat is that we'd be surrounded with the right words and in the absence of the right words there would be just quiet. May we speak and hear only the right words today and otherwise simply be quiet.

Since I've arrived in Mr. 1imamillion's room, he's been awake and in conversation. He asked me when he'd get to go home and again I said he would not be going home. Again I took the deep breath and explained the cancer matastisized to his brain and the Professor said for them to keep him here to care for him and manage his pain. Thing 2 is on her way home from camp with Aunt Shel so soon I will be delivering the same message for the first time to her eight year old ears.

I am so thankful I started my day at the top of the mat and the foot of the Savior. I know I would have no right words without it.

Wednesday

The Professor made it safely back to St. Louis yesterday and after speaking with the local radiology oncologist he called me and said we're done. The radiation would buy no quality of life and once there are brain mets there won't be a good outcome. He always promised Dane he'd be honest and tell us when there is nothing more he can do, and there is nothing more he can do. He called me just as they were pushing to schedule radiation and the moment he said we're done, I dropped to my knees in relief. I knew in my heart that this was it and there was no reason to put him through the torture of it, but I just needed to hear it from one of HIS doctors. Mr. 1inamillion has had complete faith in the Professor so hearing it from him was truly a blessing to the big kid and I. The decision was no longer on our shoulders.

The Professor said there wouldn't be a good outcome, but I know that's not true. We have been on such a tough journey. I feel like we have been climbing over a mountain and have just hit that point of witnessing the beautiful valley that awaits. There's still incredibly hard terrain to make it through and we have no idea of how long, but as followers of Christ we know the promise that awaits and I feel like Mr. 1inamillion's destination is within our sights.


If you have a few more minutes, take a look at this Steven Curtis Chapman video. It's a wonderful cheerful little ditty thatjust fits right now.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YE4Yf4NkdrU&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Tuesday

One would think that with two primary oncologists, at least one would be available. Not the case for us. Dr. McTardy is away on vacation until Monday and the Professor is at a convention but will be back in St. Louis this afternoon. So here is what I've learned from the covering oncologist and the radiology oncologist thus far;

The radiology oncologist's initial recommendation is full brain radiation. Mr. 1inamillion has a lesion at the front with lots of swelling around it, and one at the back. The lesion at the back would potentially cause coordination and balance problems which isn't an issue yet. The swelling at the front would likely be the cause of the confusion he's having but two days of steroids should have offered improvement. He suspects that cancer cells have spread to the covering of the brain and could be the culprit for the confusion. The brain covering extends to the spine, so this morning they did a lumbar puncture to see if there are cancer cells in the spinal fluid. We won't know the results until tomorrow.

Beyond the brain, Mr. 1inamillion has three tumors in his lung, one beside his heart and spots in the pelvic area. The Professor had Dane scheduled to freeze what is in the lung and near the heart in two more weeks. Hopefully I will hear from him this afternoon for his recommendation. Dr. McTardy, however, is who I really want to hear from as he has been Dane's doctor since 2007. He is also the one that suggested he stop chemo and try to really live the life God is giving him. I was in complete agreement with that, believing we'd hit a point were chemo was doing as much harm as, if not more than, the cancer. Dane wasn't happy with either one of us.

This morning he's hurting and cranky from the lumbar puncture and has been a bit of a smart ass, which are good signs that he's present with me. Yesterday we spent a lot of the day on a boat in Texas. That probably would have been fine with me had there been a pool and cocktails. I am wondering where this trip will take us today?

Through this journey I have been told countless times that I am so strong. Let me say, I am not. MY strength ran out long ago. Paul said that Lord told him, "MY grace is sufficient. MY strength is made perfect in your weakness." It wasn't that He'd give us more strength or that He wouldn't give us more than we can handle. I truly believe He does give us more than we can handle so we may learn to rely on Him. Mrs. 1inamillon's strength ran out a long time ago. I am on E, and the strength that I am running on is the Lord's. I have completely accepted that, and am a-ok knowing that I alone am not expected to handle this.

What a weekend

It's been a couple of crazy weeks for the 1inamillion family that led to quite a weekend. Miss Britney had been very sick and Mr. 1inamillion was in rough shape too. Much of my time working in the basement was spent worrying about the man and dog above me for weeks. Neither one were eating, and Dane was beginning to say increasingly far-fetched things.


I took Brit to the vet for a second stay mid-week, and after no improvement we said goodbye on Friday. It was a painful but easy decision, God fed me so many assurances that day for which I am so grateful. She was such a blessing to me for the time we had her, even with all the trouble she may have caused. I don't think I will ever be able to put into words how grateful I am for her, it's good that the Lord can interpret our every sigh.


Saturday evening Mr. Oneinamillion insisted he had an apartment in Wichita, not shocking to hear after the many off the wall things he's said over the previous two weeks...but hurtful nonetheless. So with that, I brought him into the ER. His lab work has been good, I've been in control of his meds so I have known there was something more going on. The brain CT showed some swelling and that the cancer has metastasized to his brain. He was admitted and has been in the care of our favorite nursing team. They have him on steroids to reduce the swelling and I am waiting to meet with the oncologist to discuss the recommendation of radiation.


Sunday morning, the cutest puppy picture was posted on the Kansas Humane Society website. A four month old Boxer and English Springer Spaniel mix baby boy that I just knew had to join our pack. I have been missing a four legged personal trainer, so Lucy and I called to place a hold on him, then later after a visit to Daddy in the hospital, Gabe and I picked up our new pack member named Brody. I know I may be crazy to take on a puppy in the face of brain tumors, but God packs a lot of love and joy in puppies so I welcome the distraction. I spent much of the day doing laundry and packing kids for church camp. I wasn't at the hospital much. I really enjoyed a bit of relief having Dane in the care of nurses and finally knowing what was wrong.


Today things 1 & 2 will head off for a fun week at church camp and I am at the hospital with Mr.1inamillion, waiting for doctors. Not sure what our future holds, but I do know who holds it. I am not worried, but am giving thanks. God provides and promises a great future. Thank you, Lord, for fabulous nurses, for pets who give great comfort, puppies who give great joy, friends and family for all the prayer, love and support they provide and thank you, Lord, for interpreting every sigh when there are no words.

overwhelming costs & fundraising

A medical fund has been set up for Dane at the suggestion of some church friends.  We have been blessed beyond measure by our family, friends and our church family.  I can't imagine this journey without their abundant support.  We have been here in this cancer fight for so long and the cost of it all has become overwhelming. 

The financial expenses of hospitals, chemotherapy, prescriptions and travel, of course are costly.  I am asked near daily why we must travel to St Louis from Wichita.  So here it is:  Sarcoma makes up just 1% of adult cancers, so we're probably lucky to be just 8 hours from an oncologist specializing in it within the Midwest.  With just 1%....what progress will there ever be if the one-in-a-millions in the world don't combine knowledge and experience?  So we incur the costs to travel to the doctor in which Dane has the most confidence and who is conducting his own sarcoma research.

When I refer to the overwhelming costs, it's not just the finances though.  Dane's pretty much been in some form of treatment since 2007.  We are embarking on year six of this and the physical, mental and emotional costs are certainly taking their toll.  He is weak and tired, the forgetfulness of chemo brain has us repeating conversations much more frequently.  We all are weary.

So now we are to the point of a fundraiser.  We are selling t-shirts for $10 that are emblazoned with Romans 12:12. 
Now while Dane's cancer is rare, cancer itself is not.  I designed the t-shirt to hopefully be a support and encouragement to many beyond just our family.  I even included pink!  The yellow is the awareness color for sarcoma and rare cancers.  Orange represents leukemia and I wanted to honor our young friend who has been battling alongside Mr. 1inamillion for far too long.  The awareness ribbon itself is just an outline, because I believe this verse is perfect instruction in the face of any battle. 

We have hope not only in medical science, but in Jesus Christ.  Healing will happen through him.  If not on this side of Glory, then certainly when we are by His side.  It is with that hope and the continued examples of His love here that we can continue to be patient in our journey and faithful in our prayers. 

I look forward to seeing that message on friends and others we have yet to meet.  What a cure for the weariness that will be.  I imagine dragging tail through the grocery store, in my often exhausted beaten down state, Things 1 & 2 begging for something or running recklessly down the aisle and encountering Romans 12:12. What a beautiful reminder of the message of Christ and the goodness of His people. 


If you would like to order, feel free to message me.  Orders with payment can also be mailed to Dane Daniel Medical Fund c/o MUMC, 107 S Central Ave, Mulvane KS 67110.  (If you are outside of the Wichita area, please include $5.00 for postage so we can ship you your shirts priority.)

update

Dane is in St Louis and started another new chemo today.  A dear friend from church has taken chauffeur duties for this trip so I am at home with the kids and the pack.  Gabe just walked through the door playing something annoying and electronic.  Lucy is in the front yard in a swimsuit playing with water balloons and a gang of neighborhood girls.  The pack is scattered across the messy living room floor sleeping.  Her fence jumping days behind her, that's really all Britney does these days.  I am reclining in Dane's chair, whining about the headache that refuses to go away and now typing away on Dane's computer.  Typing what I see is my first blog post in seven months.  Oops. 

In my defense, our family computer is fried and I haven't bothered to get it fixed.  It is the one with my comfy ergonomic keyboard.  My carpal tunnels don't appreciate much time spent directly on a laptop, so I've given myself a pass anytime I've thought about blogging. But I've been busted,which I guess is one of the purposes of friends.  (I will dedicate a future post to her, I promise) 

Since my last posts, I did complete the half marathon in October.  In November I managed to mess up my back and haven't been able to get passed it.  I have since sunken into a funk, laying on the couch binging on cookies and junk food watching TV when I used to work out to deal with my stress.  It's not been pretty.  I have managed to expand beyond usually expandable yoga and sweatpants.  The good news is I have eaten through all of the Girl Scout cookies so it must be coming to an end.  The bad news is I have nothing to wear in public that should in fact be worn in public. 

Last fall Mr. 1inamillion's cancer progressed a bit so he was changed to a different treatment regimen.  It was not surprising as he had remained on the same one for nearly a year and at some point they all fail.  He was changed to one that was just oral pills, a nice but short break.  There was growth with the next scans so in January he started a new regimen, one lovingly known as the red devil.  He landed in the hospital after his first treatment and again with his third.  This time it was pneumonia and RSV virus (yes, that one that babies get).  This chemo had proven to work, he was on it with another drug in 2007 with success and it showed successful again on the biopsy done last October.  His scans last week only showed minimal growth (within the margin of error) so it's considered stable and responding to the drug.  The ultimate goal is to of course keep him out of the hospital and well, so in that respect it is clearly failing. 

He spent 15 days in the hospital with the pneumonia and came home still on oxygen.  Surprisingly, not one member of the pack has done a thing to an oxygen tube and I overcame the anxiety that came with it rather quickly.  He's pretty much been in treatment of some sort since 2007, so it is getting harder to find therapies that will work and harder for him to handle them.  The drug he started today will hopefully be easier, but they all seem to list the same side effects. 

This will need to suffice as our update for now.  The gang of girls with water balloons out front have taken on a gang of boys and together they have woken and riled up the pack.  I think it is time to find excedrin, my referee whistle and a super soaker.  I pray I don't come across any cookies along the way.