My New "Country" Song

I feel like my life should be the text of a new country song. It would go something like this. "I lost my dog (just kidding) my truck broke down (not really), I lost my brain, I lost my hair, I lost my mind, but at least my hubby loves me!  Unfortunately, he has absolutely no sympathy for my new hairline (luckily, at least mine will grow back!) Here's a few pictures of my new haircut...er...hairdo.

Isaac supporting me with his hat

This hair belongs on my head, not in my hands!

Both of the "baldies" hiding their hairlines!

Missing Isaac!!!

I can't wait to see my little Isaac!!! He called me up this morning, to tell me that he just lost his 3rd front tooth.  He was a little bummed, because he wanted to have them gone for Christmas, so he could sing the classic song, "All I want for Christmas is my 2 front teeth." Now we are singing, "All I want for the New Year is my 3 front teeth!" This week, Isaac lost one tooth while eating breakfast, and luckily didn't swallow it.  When he got to school, one of his friends told Isaac his experience of swallowing a tooth.  Four days later, Isaac was eating again, and afraid he might swallow his very loose tooth, so he stopped, "yanked it out" and continued on with his meal. What a lovely picture that was painted for me!  Wish I could have been there to share the experience.

My Radiation Mask

The radiation face mask is a nightmare for anyone who is claustrophobic! That happens to be me. Can't move my eyelids, lips, or even swallow. Luckily, it only lasts for about 10 minutes. Even still, it is making me lose my hair, and all sorts of other strange side effects.

 A crazy bit of information:  During radiation I always see a bright blue florescent light that flashes, as well as smell the disgusting odor of burnt flesh. I asked my doctor about such experiences, and she explained that sadly, I am the "lucky" one. Not many patients get those side effects, but as a matter of fact, my brain is simply imagining those two imaginary side effects. They aren't really happening! Our brains are so individual and fascinating! Too bad that I am the "lucky" one!

Underneath the radiation machine with my techs, Nancy and Greg

Our 12th Anniversary (2012)

I am grateful that David and I have been married with the opportunity to share twelve wonderful years together. Honestly, as we celebrate each new year together, the feeling continues to grow that our time shared together is becoming more and more precious. These feelings are especially growing as I feel I am embracing life as if meeting up with a long lost best friend. I don't want to ever let go.

This year, for my 12th anniversary, I happen to be in Houston, getting treatment at MD Anderson Hospital. My angel, David, drove down to be with me for our special anniversary. Maybe I am not feeling up to salsa dancing, nor a movie, but just being in each others company made all the difference in the world. 

A funny story about anniversaries:  A week or so after my 4th brain surgery, the neurosurgeon was asking me all sorts questions to see if I still could remember certain things.  He asked me, with David sitting in the room, how long we had been married. I assuredly responded, "one year." My surgeon had been working with me for many more years than that, so he continued with "are you sure? Hasn't it been a little longer?" Then he asked David to bear the truth. "Eleven years." My ears couldn't believe it, and I shrieked in shock!!! I kept saying that eleven years was forever, and there was no way that I could ever possibly been married for eleven years! I am sure it was a "fun" experience for David to convince me of our true amount of years together.

Radiation Treatment in Houston Texas

Together with my family in the radiation treatment room

I can't believe that I am finally receiving radiation treatment, at one of the best hospitals in the country! When I look back on this whole situation, I find this entire ordeal quite ironic. First of all, anyone who knows how stubborn and against radiation that I have been for the last ten years, will clearly recognize that it is a true miracle that I am actually receiving that type of treatment! I guess sometimes, one must try absolutely every type of treatment in order to know that all has been done to get rid of this thing.  Secondly, when I finally mentally accepted that I would do conventional treatment (which was like waiting for the cold war to end), I was ready and willing. However, it seemed like there were so many roadblocks that continued to delay my treatment. That was the oddest thing from my point of view, that I was ready to start, yet one thing after another kept postponing my treatments. Finally at seven months after surgery, my sister sparked the idea to look into MD Anderson Hospital, which is one of the most experienced hospitals in the country, especially when it comes to brains. David thought of that idea a few years ago after my 3rd surgery, but we discounted it because it looked impossible to move to Houston for such a length of time. However, this time around it seemed important to at least get a second opinion at such an experienced hospital. Within a week, my parents, David, Isaac and I all had our airplane tickets, an appointment, and were heading down to Houston. Most family vacations don't take places at hospitals, but why not make it a first?

Next thing we know, we were at the hospital, visiting with an neuro-oncologist, then a radiation oncologist,  and one thing led to the next, I was getting an MRI to start treatment the day after Christmas! One thing was very clear to my entire family was that this is where the angels had guided me to have treatment. Even little Isaac mentioned a few times the importance of me going to MD Anderson Hospital. Not only that, but there were absolutely no roadblocks this time through, and only perfect connections making it move quickly and smoothly. 

My mom, Isaac and I flew down the day after Christmas and I started radiation immediately. I chose to do it this way so that Isaac could be with me for the break, before school starts, and definitely, being away from each other is much easier for five weeks rather than seven (even though the distance from each other is like slamming an entire hand in the car...and leaving it there for a good few minutes).

Our two weeks together were very fun, surprisingly, despite, what was going on with my brain! I realized that my dear little Isaac gave me a strength that can't be described with words. I have a special little boy. Isaac somehow lifts my heart and soul, even when he isn't even trying. We would walk to the hospital each day, and while I was in treatment, he would wait with my dear mom, and then on the way home, we would play follow the leader, or dance in and around the Christmas decorations and of course, pick flowers (his idea). We found the free days, and visited the Health Museum, Children's Museum, and Zoo. The day he left, I felt that my source of strength, Isaac, was being ripped away from me.  I can't wait to hold him in my arms again.

My Inner Feelings

This picture shows perfectly how I feel about my upcoming treatments with radiation and chemotherapy!  At first I postponed the treatments because I wasn't emotionally ready.  Now, I have been waiting for insurance purposes. It has been an emotional roller-coaster, but finally, I will be starting treatments the week after Thanksgiving.  It seems a little ironic.  I have so many things to be grateful for, but I am not sure that going under such aggressive treatments is one of them.  In reality, I have hopes that this will work.  It is just very scary to think about the complications that come with such aggressive treatments.

Grateful for Church

I feel very grateful because after 5 months, I finally was able to go to church for the entire time!  I am so happy, because I miss church, the spiritual feeling, and the love of my friends. It seems like church would be one of those easy activities for me to handle and enjoy.  It sounds simple to sit and listen to the speakers.  Not so!  To my surprise, going to church caused me extreme stimulation overload.  My son always asks me, "what is stimulation overload?"  Whatever I see, hear, or listen to, can cause stimulation.  When it gets too much, my body doesn't know how to handle the input, and it starts to shut down. It usually starts with my legs.  When I have this type of overload, I want to leave immediately, but my legs never help me to leave.  How ironic!  Even with all these challenges, I felt that today, God gave me another tender mercy and let me enjoy church.

My Dad's 70th Birthday!!!

My family had fun getting together for my dad's birthday. We enjoyed sharing stories while eating pie and ice cream. For weeks, my mom has been pulling bushels and bushels of organic apples off her trees. A few days earlier, somebody was walking by and asked for some apples so they could make an apple pie. My mom was generous and gave them extra apples, and exactly on my dad's birthday, the person returned graciously with a homemade pie....perfect for my dad's special day!

Obviously, the apple pie didn't have 70 candles, so my dad mentioned a memory he had about his mother, when she turned 84, having 84 candles on her birthday cake. I also remember that incredible memory, as my grandmother tried to blow out so many candles in one...two...three breaths. Therefore, we decided to have a 2nd birthday celebration, with 70 burning candles to celebrate his wonderful life!

My grandma on her 84th birthday

Can my dad blow all the candles out in only one single breath?! I think he did! Those are some strong lungs! What a fun time we had and it was especially nice to have almost all my siblings there for that special day.

Interestingly enough the two above pictures were taken in the same room at the same table (only 30 years later, with some new wallpaper and curtains).

A True Halloween Experience!

So, I went out to lunch with my family, just a regular old fun activity, trying to keep it simple. As I left my cane in the car, I mentioned to David that I should grab it. He said, "Oh, it's not a big deal, we are just going to walk in, sit down, eat our food, and walk out. It's not that far. If you need help, just lean on me." I thought to myself, "Oh, I can do that, no big deal." That's what we thought...

We get there, not many people. Perfect. No music. Perfect. Not a lot of stimulation. Thank goodness. Then the restaurant starts to fill up a little bit more with people. Soon, the owner decides to turn on some Salsa music. How do I explain what happened next? The music was so much stimulation for my little brain, that the rest of my body decided to shut down. While sitting on the bench, I slumped over (falling onto my son), I couldn't talk or walk. Seriously, I was trapped and couldn't do anything about it. Oh, let's just add, I started sobbing uncontrollably. I felt very stuck. I guess the stimulation was so drastic, that I could not respond to anything else. David, was begging me, "What should I do? Carry you out? Ask the owner to stop the music?" I could not even nod my head in response. All the while, my son, was scared, wondering why I was crying. 

So, how did we fix this problem? My husband finally figured it out, that in order to get me out of there, we needed the music off. He kindly and awkwardly asked the owner to please turn the music off-- his wife had a large headache. Luckily the owner complied. Once the music was off, you could only hear my sobs. My crying was amplified with the lack of music...so David sweetly asked me to "keep it down." After about 10 minutes of recovery time with no music, I was able to become responsive again, calm my nerves, and eventually escape that Halloween-ish experience. (Needless to say, David wished I had brought my cane as I walked out using him as a surrogate cane.)

A Very Unique "Show and Tell"

My family decided to bring horses for Isaac's 1st grade "Show and Tell" day.  Luckily, Mrs. Parker agreed, and all the children had a fabulous time experiencing their cowboy ride for the day.  I stayed on the sidelines, while my Dad and David lead the children around on the horse and pony.  True to our family's personality, we are always thinking and living a little outside the box.