Shark bait ooh ha ha

At least two of the three people that read this blog have probably never seen "Finding Nemo". I love this movie, and am sad that I loaned it to *somebody* and can't remember who it was. I'd watch it tonight if I had it. Why, you wonder? Because of this clip. It's only 12 seconds long and gives you no idea what the movie is about, but this little clip is the inspiration for Pete's new nickname: "Sharkbait ooh ha ha".

His leg does look a bit like he was attacked by a shark. Which would makes a good story anyway, because cancer surgery talk makes people uncomfortable.

Actually, he did come close to being attacked by a shark when he lived in Florida as a child. Part of the deal about swimming on the beach in Florida is understanding the rules - and in particular, this very important one: when the lifeguard blows the whistle, you swim for shore NOW. No lollygagging, just swim hard and get there quick. But who can hear a whistle when you're exploring the briny deep with your new snorkel and mask and flippers and lost in your own world and who would ever notice that you were drifting a little too far out? And who can hear the lifeguard screaming at you with the bullhorn to GET OUT OF THE WATER HEY YOU OUT THERE ARE YOU LISTENING?!? Why no, because it is so quiet and serene out there and who knew you could watch fish swim right by you and the snorkel must be the coolest invention ever. At which moment, he happened to finally look up, and hmmm...isn't that odd? There's nobody else in the water - well, except for those two lifeguards in the canoe paddling toward him with all their might while a third one is smacking the water with an oar. What could this possibly mean? Being a very bright child, he quickly deduced that no, this was not a drill, and began swimming toward the beach for all he was worth. Not being a very fast swimmer, and being at a bit of a disadvantage (only made worse by the fact that he felt more than a little clumsy in his big flippers), it became obvious that the shark was trailing him. Pan to the beach, where his mother has fallen to her knees screaming and crying, sure that her only son will never make it back alive. Back to the lifeguards, who are dragging the errant snorkeler into the boat with understanding and compassion for his plight ("Hey! Moron! Yeah, YOU! What is your problem? Do you WANT to get bit by a shark?")

All's well that ends well, and Pete will still swim in the ocean if given the opportunity (as long as the water is warm enough). He was rescued from the shark that almost ate him, and now, whenever he looks at his leg he can think of that fateful day long ago when he really was shark bait. Almost.

Itchy scratchy

As if pain management wasn't hard enough, poor Pete has been itching like crazy today, most likely from one of his many medications. The dr. wants to wait until tomorrow before making a change, hoping that the benedryl and topical cream will help tonight.

Reminds me of when I was a kid and broke out in hives after taking penicillin. I was not a good patient, complaining long and loud over the maddening itch that would never quit. My grandpa Dick told me that if one of the welts were to wrap itself all the way around my waist I'd die. I believed him and checked the big one on my stomach about every five minutes for two days straight. My mother was sympathetic and packed me in baking soda and water paste. Even her patience was tried by my insistence that I'd rather have polio than the hives.

Fortunately for all us, Pete is taking his itch like a grown-up.

And tonight he's watching the football game with a big bowl in his lap, feeling like he just might throw up. Poor guy.

Heather was a great nurse today while I was at work, faithfully recording every medication he took. She made a run to Target for some basketball shorts that are easier to get on over the big leg brace. She tried to make him pinky-swear that he wouldn't get up while she was gone. He refused, and sure enough, he found a reason to get out of the chair while she was gone. Happily, no falls to report.

Home at last

There is an odd science fiction aspect to the passing of time when you're at the hospital. Like a vortex or a taglian loop or a time warp or something...it's like time stands still. Or moves in a repeating loop. Or maybe it's moving backwards - that's what it felt like when Pete would call for pain meds and the nurse took 30 minutes to get there. Or when we called for "transport" to take him to the car today and it took 45 minutes.

It is not easy to get into a vehicle when you can't bend your leg. Thankfully, I had the presence of mind to bring the van, and after realizing the front seat was NOT going to cut it, we pulled over and repositioned him behind the front passenger seat with his leg between the two captains seats propped on my bag. Much better. But what an ordeal! He is happily snoozing in his recliner after a miserable two days trying to find some way to lay where he could find relief for his back and his leg at the same time.

The hospital said they'd be sending a survey to find out if we were satisfied with their patient care. We're not too sure which expectations are reasonable and which are not and want to ponder that a bit before responding. One thing I do know for sure is that no one should ever be alone as a patient in the hospital. Right after surgery Pete was unable to articulate what was bothering him, but because I know him so well, I was able to ask the right questions and find out immediately. If I hadn't been there, I'm not sure anyone else would have been able to figure out how to help him (at least not easily).

So, it's good to be home, and hopefully, we'll both get a good night's sleep. Heather is here, at the other end of the couch, typing away on her laptop as I type on mine. I didn't know if was physically possible for a person to type as fast as she does, but apparently she really is doing it. She can work from anywhere if she has internet access and a phone, and this reality makes it possible for her to be here tomorrow (and for the next few days) so I can go back to work. I'm really thankful for a quiet afternoon to kick back and relax. And hey, after two days at work I get a three-day weekend for Labor Day.

Pete has to go back to the dr. on Tuesday for a check-up and at that time they'll remove the drain. The brace stays on for at least two weeks (maybe longer) and the staples won't come out for a good two weeks either. With the skin stretched like it was to close the wound, it will need to be seriously healed before he can be bending his leg.

Thank you (again!), Linda, for bringing supper. Not having to figure that out tonight is a great big blessing. Rumor has it more food is on its way from some other ladies at church. I'm good with that.

Out of the woods but not quite home

Yesterday's surgery was a success in that clear margins were achieved. Pete came back with his leg bandaged from his toes all the way up, with a drain from the wound, and his leg immobilized in a brace. The dr. was pleased with how it went and explained that the *portion* he removed was 11 cm long, 7 cm wide and 3 cm deep. Being a little slow in metric conversion, it took me awhile to realize that he was really saying 4.33 inches long by 2.75 inches wide by 1.81 inches deep. It was the 1.81 inches deep that took my breath away once I figured it out. It bled quite a bit in the night and when they changed the dressing this morning it looked rather like he'd been bitten by a shark...a little shocking at first look. The dr. originally indicated he might call in a plastic surgeon, but didn't. He just stretched the skin and put in a heck of a lot of stitches underneath and a lot of staples on top.

We had hoped that Pete could come home today, but the dr. said no, and so after a room finally became available this afternoon, he was moved up to the surgical ward from day surgery. He felt good for much of today but late this afternoon started feeling bad again. It is really hard to have to lay on your back to protect your leg when your back gets REALLLLY mad at you when you lay on it. He always sleeps on his side and laying on his back aggravates his hip AND his back. We tried everything and every position possible to make it more bearable, but nothing was helping. He also got a little behind on the pain curve, which certainly didn't help. So, a couple more doses of pain meds, and he was hoping for an early night.

I didn't come home yesterday but stayed close to the hospital at a friend's house (thanks, Linda!). Tonight I HAD to come home for a change of clothes (I wasn't prepared for his extended stay) and some rest - everybody knows there is none to be had at the hospital.

My new boss (a twice-breast-cancer-survivor) has been most gracious in granting me time off after only two weeks on the job. Tomorrow is the first day of school and I certainly hate to not be there, but bringing Pete home from the hospital has top priority.

I'm sure there is much more to say, but I am far too tired to have a single intelligent thought. One thing, though...we are so very grateful for all the prayers and support. We are indeed abundantly blessed.

Winding down

Well, it has really been a month. I feel like I've ignored my friends and family and have just put a shoulder to the wind and leaned in. Finishing my job at church required cramming all the work of the busiest month of the year into a week - and it happened to be the same week as VBS. Then starting at school feeling at a deficit already (with Pete's cancer stuff on top of already being exhausted) with a steep learning curve and the work I would have done over the course of the entire summer being crammed into the last two weeks before school starting...I think I can safely say these have been some of the hardest times I can remember in a while. Mercifully, we tend to forget the worst of it, and I'm definitely looking forward to that.

Pete's surgery is scheduled for Monday, and I'm taking Monday and Tuesday off work to get him there and home and cared for. School starts Wednesday. In order to be ready for school to start, I went in this morning for about 3 hours and got at least 6 hours worth done in three thanks to the excellent help of Heather who is a WHIZ. We drove through MacDonalds and headed straight to church for Emily's bridal shower. Heather was the photographer (see below). It was a lovely shower and Eric and Emy got lots of wonderful gifts.

Here's a shot of the happy couple: As you can tell by the backdrop, the theme was "Happily Ever After" and featured several Disney fairy tale props and Emy's mom's amazing talent at rewriting the words of just about any song to fit the need of the moment. This time it was their love story to the tune of "Bippety-Boppity-Boo".

Eric showed up towards the end to help pack up the loot, and got to help open presents besides.

Here's a picture of their cake:


















A closing cancer thought before I wind down for good tonight...Emily's dad is a physicist and works on the cutting edge of medical technology. He was also at the shower for awhile this afternoon and told me something I hadn't known before (which happens almost every time I talk to him). Did you realize (I sure didn't) that in 1977 there was no such thing as a CT scan or an MRI or chemotherapy or radiation therapy? Back then if it was suspected that you might have a brain tumor they just drilled a hole in your skull to have a look see. It's really amazing to think how far we've come. It was fascinating to look at the scans this week with Pete's oncologist - we saw "hot spots" on his neck, indicating degenerative arthritis (but no cancer!). And we saw unbelievable pictures of every part of his insides. They had one "slice" view of his leg that looked like a ham shank. And they could determine a prognosis with a high degree of accuracy and create a plan of action. It's a good time to be alive.

The Brewers lost, but we won

Sorry to not have posted yesterday...I went straight from work to the hospital to dinner to the game to home to bed, and now am back at work again.

So as not to draw out the suspense, our news at the hospital couldn't have been better. There is NO cancer anywhere else in Pete's body! Long story short, he'll be having surgery on Monday to clean out the tumor site, and he'll stay overnight as they will be putting a drain in his leg for a time. He'll be off of it for about a week, and will start radiation once it heals up. Five days a week for five weeks...that will be a haul, but after that, he's DONE.

I think I'll be living here at work between now and the time school starts (when I'm not at the hospital), but it's a small price to pay for such good news. Heather plans to stay with us next week, since with her laptop she can work from anywhere she can get an internet connection. She'll play nursemaid to Dad once he's home, which of course, he insists he does not need. I bet he'll appreciate the help!

We are all emotionally wrung out after the drama of the past few weeks, but in every other way we're flying high. Thanks for all the prayers.

Busily waiting

This is probably a weird combination of the best and worst times to start a new job. It's the worst time because August is the busiest month of the year in children's ministries and I worked grueling hours trying to finish well at church. It's the worst time because I feel spent between finishing at church and dealing with cancer and like I don't have anything left to give a new job. It's the best because what all of this is going to cost is unknown and some extra money will undoubtedly come in handy. And it's the best because it gives me something else to think about.

Because it feels like a lifetime has passed since Tuesday. Monday and Tuesday were big test days for Pete at the hospital: a bone scan, 3 CTs, and a rather involved set of MRI shots covering every last inch of his tumor leg. I told him that after last year's heart cath, his recent head MRI and all these tests, there's probably not a single centimeter of the inside of his body that has gone unseen. He tolerated it all pretty well for the most part, save some wild blood sugars as a result of having to lay off the diabetes meds for a couple of days while his body processed the FOUR different contrasts he was given to light up his insides.

And this coming Tuesday feels like it's another lifetime away. (That's when we go back to get the results of all the above tests.)

I sort of hit a wall on Thursday - it was like my body was screaming, "ENOUGH ALREADY!!!" and "WHAT PART OF STOP DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND???" I left work early with a big migraine, pulling over along the way to throw up, and when I (thankfully) made it home, when straight to bed until morning. Friday was only marginally better, and today a bit better yet, with traces of headache still lurking and enough energy to do some laundry and pick up a bit.

Pete was off this week on vacation, and believe me, spending two days of it at the hospital was not his first choice. But it was better than missing more work, and he did get one project done around the house, so all in all, a good week.

Did I mention that Tuesday is looming large and taking forever to get here?

I would say that up until yesterday we have handled the not knowing pretty well. Our faith is sustaining, and we know that no matter what happens, it is a win-win. That being said, Pete felt the need to talk yesterday about some of the "what-ifs" and I just lost it. I have avoided going there because it seems like a huge waste of emotional energy when things could just as easily go the other and have a happy ending. I realized that for all my brave little Indian talk, I am in no way ready to deal with that sort of thing. After I recovered, we did have a productive conversation and while I'd rather be in denial, he did feel better verbalizing his feelings about it all.

Waiting is the hardest part of what we've faced so far. If waiting is the hardest thing we have to endure, we'll be celebrating come Tuesday.

Back and forward

Well, after a MOST frustrating day with AT&T, it happened rather quickly in the end. When you finally get connected with the right person, you learn it isn't such a big problem after all.

Yesterday, Pete and I met with his new oncologist for the first time. We do like him, and believe he is "one of us" - his explanation of radiation - "it's like the fact that sin needs a covering"...made us laugh. He was very reassuring and we left feeling his team will do everything they can to help us through this journey. They took blood and scheduled a bone scan, three cat scans, an MRI and some x-rays. These tests will take the better part of Monday and Tuesday. Then the next Tuesday (8/19) we meet with the dr. again for the results. He will have also determined the stage/grade of the cancer and will have a plan, which will, of course, mean surgery first. He'll clean out around the tumor site and will create "clean margins". Then they'll blanket the whole area with radiation. And, of course, further treatment will depend on what else they find (or don't find, as we hope will be the case).

In the middle of all this, I have gotten a new job and will start on Monday. More on that later...

We're heading to our first church out of seminary over the weekend, where Pete will be preaching on Sunday for an anniversary celebration. We get to stay with dear friends and are looking forward to a little getaway.

This week has been profound in many ways, and hopefully I can get back and write about it in detail. From witnessing a close friend have a stroke while leading worship to Pete sharing his cancer news with our congregation and preaching the sermon of his life...to long, long days of trying to finish well at church and direct VBS to meeting with the oncologist...it was a whopper. And I am really, really tired.

I listened to the Steven Curtis Chapman interview with Larry King on YouTube tonight (http://chapmanchannel.typepad.com/jim/2008/08/larry-king.html), and I loved the very last comment made by Mary Beth. It went something like this: "Even as we have been falling, falling into the depths, and not even landing on our feet, but doing a face plant, we have found that our foundation was firm. And that means everything."

AT&T woes

Well, first they badgered us for at least a full year trying to sell us UVerse (a fiber optic internet/tv option) and we finally bit. We discovered we could have both internet and more tv channels than we ever wanted (we've never even had cable before) for about the same price as DSL and a landline, so we signed on the dotted line, endured the three hour installation, and disconnected our landline. And then the service worked/didn't work/worked/didn't work (ad nauseum)...somehow they sold us a service that we can't use because we're too far away from the "box", which one would have thought they'd figure out BEFORE installation. So we've had the phone line reconnected and must wait until Friday for our DSL to be back. We're not missing the tv at all, but living without the internet is like not having a microwave or a dishwasher - simply intolerable!!!

So - I have lots to tell and no time to tell it (I'm at work), and it will have to wait until later. No new medical news until after Thursday when Pete sees the oncologist for the first time.