Mr. 1inamillion has completed three rounds of chemo. We traveled two weeks ago to see his St. Louis oncologist and have his CT scan. The film shows that the cancer is stable. Nothing new has appeared and the small existing tumors showed no real growth. It wasn't the quick and obvious progress for which we hoped but it is considered to be good news.
The concerning news is in his blood work. It's showing signs of some early damage to his kidneys. They're changing him to a new regimen of chemo that has proven effective on soft tissue sarcomas but should be easier on his system. There's still a lot unknown to us regarding the new regimen. Honestly, I prefer to ask the nurses at the treatment center my questions. They see it all face to face, day in and day out and I am in awe of their care and knowledge. There are already some perks in sight, though. The schedule is one day instead of 5 and there is no Matilda. Dane won't spend all of his days in treatment week at the cancer center or be chained to a pump for five nights. Hopefully he will recuperate a bit faster and have more time and strength to spend on things he enjoys.
Tomorrow is his first day on the new regimen. We appreciate your prayers for this new battle in his ongoing war.
What We Need
Is there anything you guys need? What can I do to help? These are questions that we hear often and always struggle to answer. It's hard to know what we need, and harder still to ask for it. We don't like to impose, let alone admit our weakness.
Mr. 1inamillion asked me months ago what we needed to get through this. "What do I tell people when they ask?" My reply was I have no idea. I have no idea what help we need to get through this again. My response was construed as not caring, but honestly I didn't know. God hadn't told me yet, perhaps he had told someone else. Our situation can be so very overwhelming, so I really liked the thought that He had told someone else. That became my prayer. "Lord, help. Please just tell someone else what we need. I can't manage it anymore so please tell somebody else." Soon after that, our basement flooded. Again.
Years ago we had water in our basement with every rain. I spent lots of time cleaning it up, then we finally spent lots of money fixing it. Still I have yet to see a rainbow down there and though I've considered painting one, I decided that would be cheating and wouldn't offer the assurance I desired. This time the water wasn't coming from the ground, it was dripping from the air shaft. Handy as I am, I bought a couple of buckets at the Family Dollar, identified the perfect arrangement to catch the drips and called it good. After a few trips down to empty and reposition my solution, I decided it might be pipes above the air shaft and called my sister and her plumber husband.
Shelly and her knight in shining armor rode out and saved the day. It wasn't leaking pipes, it was condensation from the air conditioner and he fixed it with his pocket knife. He scraped enough lint from the coils for a scarf, two sweaters and a stocking cap then opened the shaft enough to let the remaining water drain out. So far, so good. The basement has remained dry and the air conditioner is much improved.
Shortly after their departure from our humble abode, my big sister called with apologies. After spending a bit of time observing my chaotic mess, she hoped I didn't mind but she called our brother and scheduled a work day. We had talked before about her girls coming out later in the summer to watch kids and help a bit with housework, and though she had been listening, she hadn't really realized my need for immediate, bigger help. And she was sorry for that.
Let's just say that a lot has remained undone in the 1inamillion household after three years of surgeries, chemo, radiation, traveling to find the right doctors, traveling for the clinic trial, traveling for work, and fibromyalgia. We commit to being fed, bathed and dressed in mostly clean clothes upon leaving the house. Anything beyond that is a rare bonus. I managed to say nothing more than thank you and shed quiet tears during that call. There was no brave face, no down playing our weakness and need for helping hands. I thanked God for flooding the basement and sending in the troops. Then I thought "of course You'd tell her what I need!" I should have known. She spent years practicing as the boss of me.
Almost immediately a posse of nieces arrived. I was tucked away in the office on a conference call while two teenage girls took charge of Things 1 and 2 and began tackling the downstairs playroom with great speed. Two more were upstairs cleaning the kitchen and then they straightened up the living room and began to make a dent in the kids' bedroom. In the following weeks, my sister, one of her girls, my brother and his wife arrived with trailers. The storage room and shed that have easily accumulated much too much were cleaned out and the kids' room received an extreme makeover. Really, they were days meant for reality television.
We have since decided to proceed with our desire to move to my hometown. Close to Dad, my sister's family and our church, and closer to the treatment center and pharmacy that is so often our destination. We (Dane, myself and the boss of me) have decided our family needs to be closer to our resources and we need a landlord. The goal is no longer to wait, sell then buy another house. Accepting our limitations, the goal is to soon rent, then sell this home. Give up the dreams and burdens of home ownership in our sweet little town for the freedoms proximity and a tad fewer responsibilities have to offer.
I am praying for the Lord to bless this move. To make this particular path clear and easy. There is still much ahead of us and much that needs to be done. But I know that He is listening. I can't tell you what exactly we may need, but I'm not so overwhelmed by the question. I will just suggest you talk to my big sister.
Mr. 1inamillion asked me months ago what we needed to get through this. "What do I tell people when they ask?" My reply was I have no idea. I have no idea what help we need to get through this again. My response was construed as not caring, but honestly I didn't know. God hadn't told me yet, perhaps he had told someone else. Our situation can be so very overwhelming, so I really liked the thought that He had told someone else. That became my prayer. "Lord, help. Please just tell someone else what we need. I can't manage it anymore so please tell somebody else." Soon after that, our basement flooded. Again.
Years ago we had water in our basement with every rain. I spent lots of time cleaning it up, then we finally spent lots of money fixing it. Still I have yet to see a rainbow down there and though I've considered painting one, I decided that would be cheating and wouldn't offer the assurance I desired. This time the water wasn't coming from the ground, it was dripping from the air shaft. Handy as I am, I bought a couple of buckets at the Family Dollar, identified the perfect arrangement to catch the drips and called it good. After a few trips down to empty and reposition my solution, I decided it might be pipes above the air shaft and called my sister and her plumber husband.
Shelly and her knight in shining armor rode out and saved the day. It wasn't leaking pipes, it was condensation from the air conditioner and he fixed it with his pocket knife. He scraped enough lint from the coils for a scarf, two sweaters and a stocking cap then opened the shaft enough to let the remaining water drain out. So far, so good. The basement has remained dry and the air conditioner is much improved.
Shortly after their departure from our humble abode, my big sister called with apologies. After spending a bit of time observing my chaotic mess, she hoped I didn't mind but she called our brother and scheduled a work day. We had talked before about her girls coming out later in the summer to watch kids and help a bit with housework, and though she had been listening, she hadn't really realized my need for immediate, bigger help. And she was sorry for that.
Let's just say that a lot has remained undone in the 1inamillion household after three years of surgeries, chemo, radiation, traveling to find the right doctors, traveling for the clinic trial, traveling for work, and fibromyalgia. We commit to being fed, bathed and dressed in mostly clean clothes upon leaving the house. Anything beyond that is a rare bonus. I managed to say nothing more than thank you and shed quiet tears during that call. There was no brave face, no down playing our weakness and need for helping hands. I thanked God for flooding the basement and sending in the troops. Then I thought "of course You'd tell her what I need!" I should have known. She spent years practicing as the boss of me.
Almost immediately a posse of nieces arrived. I was tucked away in the office on a conference call while two teenage girls took charge of Things 1 and 2 and began tackling the downstairs playroom with great speed. Two more were upstairs cleaning the kitchen and then they straightened up the living room and began to make a dent in the kids' bedroom. In the following weeks, my sister, one of her girls, my brother and his wife arrived with trailers. The storage room and shed that have easily accumulated much too much were cleaned out and the kids' room received an extreme makeover. Really, they were days meant for reality television.
We have since decided to proceed with our desire to move to my hometown. Close to Dad, my sister's family and our church, and closer to the treatment center and pharmacy that is so often our destination. We (Dane, myself and the boss of me) have decided our family needs to be closer to our resources and we need a landlord. The goal is no longer to wait, sell then buy another house. Accepting our limitations, the goal is to soon rent, then sell this home. Give up the dreams and burdens of home ownership in our sweet little town for the freedoms proximity and a tad fewer responsibilities have to offer.
I am praying for the Lord to bless this move. To make this particular path clear and easy. There is still much ahead of us and much that needs to be done. But I know that He is listening. I can't tell you what exactly we may need, but I'm not so overwhelmed by the question. I will just suggest you talk to my big sister.
The Church Ladies are Making Me Fat
My mom had an extended hospital stay when I was young. This is what I remember from that time:
- Kimi's egg rolls.
- Chicken noodles courtesy of Ms. Kris.
- Running to get the neighbor one morning because my brother and sister were about to kill each other on the front porch.
I don't really recall being scared or disappointed in any way by the situation. The manna was delicious and plentiful. Mom made it through, as did my siblings. That's really about it.
I shared this with Mr. 1inamillion when he worried about what his cancer would put the kids through. I am reassured by the hope that when trouble hits them later in life, they too will remember church lady suppers and know that they will be just fine.
The Israelites spent forty years in the desert after leaving Egypt. Without the ability to provide food themselves, they were blessed with bread from heaven, manna. The Lord does not promise life will be easy, but there will be provisions to get us through it. Each day, manna fell from heaven with the morning dew. The flavor of manna has been compared to that of Krispy Kreme doughnuts.
When I step out my front door in the morning, I see a lawn in need of mowing, peppered with bicycles, baseball mits and golf toys. There's not a Krispy Kreme in sight, but the manna for the Daniel family is no doubt plentiful. It's found eighteen miles down a few dirt roads and a county highway, in a refridgerator with our name on it at the Mulvane United Methodist church. The manna doesn't show up with the morning dew, it's meals made by church ladies three days a week. It doesn't taste like doughnuts though it almost always includes something chocolate.
Delicious barbeque beef, enchiladas, chicken and rice, or pasta casseroles, most often accompanied by brownies. Occasionally there's chocolate pie and a chocolate cake. Some of the Israelites complained about the constant flavor of manna and were sick of its sweetness. Now I am not grumbling about the flavors. Not at all. Oh, the yummy brownies! I'm whining about my own struggle with gluttony. I haven't met a brownie I didn't like, and I can't pass them by without a bite. Or two. Ok really I totally lose count.
The generosity of our church family has eliminated that struggle of 'what's for dinner?'. They've eased a financial burden and taken away the aromas of cooking that can heighten nausea brought on by chemo. They've lightened my work load, and nothing else. The miracle of their labor is that Mr. 1inamillion has not lost ANY weight in these first three rounds of treatment. That is truly amazing. Unfortunately neither have I. The few pounds I lost at the start of the year are back, despite the running I do with the big dog.
I am referring to the casseroles and sweets as the manna, because it really is from heaven. The Lord has blessed us with people in our lives who wish to help, whose names we may not even know. The gift of food is simply there when I go looking for it. Rarely do I know who has provided it. While I have muttered more than once that the church ladies are making me fat at the sight of more desserts, I am accepting of the treasures and now my own weaknesses. We are so grateful. The kids look forward to the surprise of what's for dinner, Dane is always able to eat a bit and I am happy to worry only about the dishes. The joy, of course, is shared the following morning by Britney. She's the big dog who loves to run and eagerly looks forward to punishing me for my gluttony through the neighborhoods of Douglass.
Yesterday was our thirteenth wedding anniversary. We spent the day on the road to St. Louis for a CT scan today and an appointment to follow up with Dane’s oncologist for results tomorrow. We are staying with my great aunt Jean this trip. You may think we should have opted for a hotel on our anniversary, but chemotherapy zaps the resources as well as the need for that luxurious privacy. Besides, we received the greatest anniversary gifts that I must share.
When my mother passed, our cousin Reverend Kurt Stone assisted with her funeral. It was beautiful and the following day I remember being told that every family should have a cousin Kurt. I completely agree. Every family should be blessed with a cousin Kurt, particularly because he came with our amazing Aunt Jean and Uncle Tom, the first Rev. Stone. While Kurt so eloquently helped us say goodbye to Mom, Uncle Tom was there to eloquently set us sail in marriage.
We were treated to a delicious dinner last night by Aunt Jean, Kurt and his wife Linda, complete with a celebratory cake. My aunt has an unrivaled gift of supreme organization and gave us a candleholder that they had received as an anniversary gift from my grandma and a copy of our wedding ceremony.
My Uncle Tom’s words (that were a complete blur to me on that day) are what I want to share with you. In particular, I want to share the words that my Aunt Jean so neatly typed thirteen years ago that are yelling at me from the page today. First, one of his prayers;
"God who gives life to all people and meaning to every moment, we pray that Angela and Dane may ever be faithful to the covenant they have just made. May the home they establish be a haven of peace and love in which all may share. May your grace and love be their constant companion as they fulfill their life together. Amen.”
A haven of peace and love. ...Oops.
Stress and illness weakens us to bark and bicker. My eyes stuck to those words on the page. I could dwell and elaborate on how far from peace we stray, but his wedding homily leads me otherwise.
A. Birds in Bella Vista
a. Largest – turkey vulture
b. Smallest—hummingbird
B. Diets differ greatly
a. Vulture—road kill
b. Hummingbird—colorful blossoms of beautiful flowers (and sugar water)
C. Vulture lives on what was…
a. Lives in the past.
D. Hummingbird
a. Lives on what is
b. Seek new life
c. Fill themselves with freshness & life
E. Each bird finds what it is looking for; we all do exactly that
F. Those of us who know you, love you, and want the best for you prefer you will always seek new life, and fill yourselves with freshness and life.
He continued with quotes from Eda LeShan’s “Going for the Gold” and Garrison Keillor’s book “We are Still Married”. His illustration of the birds of his Bella Vista, Arkansas home, however, is so very clear. We find exactly that which we are searching. We can fill ourselves with freshness and life like the peaceful hummingbird, or pick at the road kill.
Uncle Tom’s conclusion:
A. From Life’s Little Instruction Calendar…
Remember that a successful marriage depends on two things:
a. Finding the right person and
b. Being the right person.
B. God bless you both as you seek new life together, and do remember, “Happiness is never just around the corner—it is always right there in front of you.”
C. Seek new life and fill yourselves with freshness and life.
Dear God, who gives life to all people and meaning to every moment, I thank you that we have been ever faithful to the covenant we made thirteen years ago. May the home we have established be a haven of peace and love in which all may share. May your grace and love continue to be our constant companion as we continue to fulfill this life together, seeking to do so with freshness and life. Amen.
Growing Pains
Our household is suffering through the pains of growing up. My baby now calls herself a first grader. Preschool is long behind us, kindergarten is complete and the countdown of school years is already on. Ouch. It makes momma’s heart ache and eyes water just typing it.
She also lost her baby blanket three weeks ago. This blankie, dubbed yellow and often referred to as smellow, was given to her before she took her first breath. She rubbed it’s silky edges and chewed its corners brown. She loved it until it was holey and took it with her most everywhere, which would be its demise. Smellow Yellow was last seen at the Andover Dillon’s. We were told it was in lost and found for a couple of days but then thrown out, probably because of its appearance. Clearly, lost and found was not monitored by a parent because that blanket’s appearance (and smell) should have made its value obvious. It was a priceless, irreplaceable lovey.
She also lost her baby blanket three weeks ago. This blankie, dubbed yellow and often referred to as smellow, was given to her before she took her first breath. She rubbed it’s silky edges and chewed its corners brown. She loved it until it was holey and took it with her most everywhere, which would be its demise. Smellow Yellow was last seen at the Andover Dillon’s. We were told it was in lost and found for a couple of days but then thrown out, probably because of its appearance. Clearly, lost and found was not monitored by a parent because that blanket’s appearance (and smell) should have made its value obvious. It was a priceless, irreplaceable lovey.
Thing 2 with her Yellow
She cried and has mourned her most favorite blankie ever. Me too. We’ve talked about how losing a lovey is part of growing up, and what a big girl she’s becoming. She’s playing T-ball, going into the first grade, and while we miss yellow and are so sad it’s gone, it is ok because she no longer needs it. There’s no replacing yellow, but she’s making her own big girl blanket now and even has her first wiggly tooth. She’s growing up, and dragging me along kicking and screaming.
Two weeks ago, Mrs. 1inamillion parted ways with her BFF. When I was sixteen, I got a dog and named her Harley. We were told she was Yorkshire terrier and Pomeranian, but we later determined she must also have had a bit of Himalayan rat in her as well. She was too big to be just a Yorkie-Pom and nowhere near fluffy, but she was absolutely fabulous. Harley had such character and accompanied me in college, getting married, moving to Indiana, Florida and back to Kansas again. She comforted Mr. 1inamillian through several recoveries, and welcomed our children into our family.
Harley J. Hooley, 4/9/1992-6/4/2010
Harley was with me for more than half my life; eighteen years, 126 if you do the dog math. She had hacked like an eighty year old smoker for quite a while. I had prayed many times for the Lord to take her home peacefully when it was time and not let me struggle with that decision. There were multiple occasions when sleeping so sound, I laid down beside her and told her I loved her and if she saw a light or Mom, it was okay to run. She’d lift her head up and look at me like I was nuts. But two weeks ago when Harley was sick to her stomach and unable to stand on her own, we looked at each other and knew that it was in fact time. We shed tears and said goodbye. Thing 1 and I took her to the vet who helped her make it to Glory quickly and peacefully.
I am still crying and mourning my most favorite dog ever. I left that vet’s office to comfort my children, to get a flat tire fixed and a dead car battery replaced and work to pay the bills. I am struggling to be a grown up. I may look and act the part, but inside I‘m kicking and screaming about it all.
Now we are facing the fact that another lovey may be gone. After a day of massive clean up at our house, we discovered last night that Buster is missing in action. Buster was Mr. 1inamillion’s Victory Bear that he received on his very first day of chemotherapy and had given to Thing 1. After three years of lots of snuggling, Buster was undeniably a lovey. We are talking about the story of The Velveteen Rabbit, about how our love can be magical. We are shedding more tears, mourning the loss of a most favorite bear ever.
Tylenol helps ease the pain of wiggly teeth and aching joints, but there’s no replacing our loveys. This summer’s growing pains hurt. Amidst them, though, we have managed to kick off the training wheels and begun jumping from the high dive. We are growing into new adventures. It is easier to run free without toting a blankie, a raggedy bear or worry about a 126 year old friend that just longs to run free, too. We are treasuring our memories, but focusing on sharing our love with those we still have and doing our best to learn what we can and welcome the joys that await us. Hopefully with a little less of me kicking and screaming along the way.
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