Wanted!

Wanted!
Under Penalty of Law!
The Evidence:

The Crime:

So, the other evening I found the above item in Seville's diaper bag. Alarmed at being in possession of such incriminating evidence I asked Jared, "what the heck is this?"

There was a big sigh. Then, "I'll tell you what that is..." he said, and proceeded to fill me in on the dreadful details.

That afternoon Seville accompanied us to a meeting with our mortgage broker. Having her along wasn't our first choice, but she's a really good kid. We figured she could crawl around his office while we chatted about grown-up things. Of course, she mostly wanted to crawl around on our legs and under our chairs, despite the acres of office available to her that were not riddled with wooden, sharp-cornered, obstructive furniture. Still... she did pretty ok. OR SO I THOUGHT!

Turns out that while I excused myself to powder my nose, Jared was talking to Mr. Broker and looked down to see that Seville had torn half of the 'DO NOT REMOVE' tag from underneath Mr. Broker's fancy guest-chair that Jared was sitting in. Mr. Broker couldn't see this, because he was behind his fancy voluminous mahogany desk. Jared, embarrassed at her behavior or his lack of paying attention or something, nonchalantly hid the evidence in the diaper bag under some cheerios and a stuffed bear. As he bent down, to his horror, he saw that the other half of said evidence was dangling for all to see from underneath his nether-regions. Seeing as he had already begun to weave the tangled web (how do you explain half the tag hanging, the other half deep in your diaper bag?) he tried to carry on the conversation as if nothing was happening, while using one hand to silently wrench the rest of the tag -- illegally, I might add -- from the fancy chair. What Mr. Broker thought Jared was doing so heartily with his hand under his derriere I can only guess. But he was either professional enough to act like he didn't notice or else he was oblivious enough really not to. By the time I re-entered the room, the crime was complete.

I wonder... if Seville commits anything more serious as a young adult, will she manage to get daddy wrapped up in that one too?

The Criminal Record:

Surveillance cameras also caught the suspect below:

Removing EVERY SINGLE pink tissue from the box while I was on the phone (the pink ones are my favorite, and you can't find them all the time. sniff) Obviously, it was too cute to stop her.

Giving Thanks

Last week I was telling a friend that Jared's scans came back clean, that he was in "clinical remission" and we're very relieved and happy. He said, "you have a lot to be thankful for this year!" (referring to Thanksgiving). Of course, I agreed, but added, "as does anyone. And how much more thankful, those who did NOT have cancer before becoming healthy, right?" "Good point." he said.

Which made me think about how we tend to be most thankful for our day-to-day lives after something has upset them. It's always a crisis that makes us appreciate the little things. I'm not sure that I like the idea of imagining all the bad things that could happen in order to appreciate the blessings you have now, but somehow it seems necessary sometimes.

So this is a reminder to me and everyone to give thanks for the things you normally take for granted. Thank God for your health today. Thank God for your family, your home, your job, your car, your friends, your country, your freedom, your faith, your body, your mind, your education, your opportunity, your hair, your feet, your fully-functional pinky finger. Thank God for all.

And thank you all, readers and friends, for everything you've done for us. It's made a world of difference. I explained to my family on Thanksgiving that the help we received didn't play out like lots of different bits of help. It played out like everyone contributing to a collective pool of support that carried us forward through this ordeal. Thus little and big things alike were essential to making it. We really can't thank everyone enough.

First Steps!

Thanksgiving morning Seville took her FIRST STEPS!! With a little coaxing from daddy she struck out and a step toward him. He tried again and got three whole steps! Of course we freaked out on her and are soooo proud!

Since we were with family these last couple days (mine), everyone wanted to see the miracle, and within48 hours she was stepping up a storm, going as many as 10 contiguous steps at a time. She thinks she's a total rockstar. And she acts like it's so much fun -- you'd think she was snowboarding or something (that will come, my precious, that will come. Mommy will see to it.)

(This is all very exciting, but like the crawling thing, also scary. How soon will she be just tramping around the house?)

I'll have to get the video off my Dad's camera for you. But in the meantime, trust me. It was awesome.

Cured!

Well, it's official. I'm cured - or as the medical people put it, I'm in "clinical remission." Cancer's gone. It's time to get back to normal life - whatever "normal" is - I'm not sure I really know anymore. But I am happy about everything. I never had any doubts that my treatment would be successful, but it is great to know that it's officially over.

Those of you still following this blog know that I haven't personally posted anything in a really long time. The last chemo treatment and the subsequent recovery period took a lot out of me. But more than that, in the last several weeks it has been difficult trying to make the transition from cancer patient to normal person. My biggest mistake is that I tried to make the transition too soon. I figured that I'd be my normal self within a few short weeks after the last round of chemo. I was wrong. So, I've taken the last couple of weeks to really just lay low and let my body (and my mind) recover from all the chaos it's been through in the last several months.

Perhaps my biggest discovery is that after 4-6 months of inactivity, inactivity has become the status quo in my life. I kind of feel like I have to learn how to be a normal, functioning member of society all over again. It took me roughly 20-some odd years the first time - hopefully it won't take that long the second time. I'm back at work, re-involving myself in church-related activities, and trying to be helpful at home. I still need to figure out how to find time for exercise, leisure and paying the bills. It's kind of a slow process, but bit by bit I'll get there. It's hard, but it's not dramatic-hard like cancer. It's boring-hard.

I almost feel like I need to say goodbye to all of you. I mean, this blog isn't going to die or anything - Skye is a faithful and dedicated blogger. But to be totally honest, I'm not sure that I have it in me to be a true blogger. Providing cancer updates was a compelling reason for me to post - I appreciated the fact that people wanted to know how I felt and how I was doing. But now, I'm not so sure I have any particular messages for the world. I don't know. I obviously want to stay in touch with people - I'm just not convinced that blogging is the right forum for me to do that. We'll see - I'll keep an open mind about it and see where it takes me. Maybe I'll leave the family updates to Skye (since she's good at that and I think she likes to do it) and I'll post random thoughts on occasion. Actually, at some point in the near future, I'll probably post some post-cancer thoughts and reflections. So, stay tuned if you're interested.

Anyhow, I guess I am saying goodbye in the sense that I'm saying goodbye to cancer and goodbye to posting updates about my fight against it. There's no more fight. It's over. I win. Today is a good day.

Keeping Our Fingers Crossed

Jared has a series of scans tomorrow. They're to tell us whether/how well the chemo worked and whether there's any cancer left in Jared's body (no=very good, yes=very bad). I'm pretty sure that the way modern medicine works, the radiologist won't tell him anything about them, and we'll have to wait until our appointment on Wednesday with the Oncologist. Still, I'm hoping for some good news.

Autumn Leaves

Her first time in a leaf pile. And one of the best afternoons of my life.

Halloween!

We didn't hold our planned party on Halloween because we both came down with a crazy sudden fever this week. Thankfully we already got to party at my friend's haunted mansion last weekend:

Indian Summer

Every October in Oregon we get a sweet Indian Summer. Jared hasn't been up for any serious outdoor activities yet, but we did celebrate with some simple family-style outdoor fun.

Jared naps in the park. Seville tries to eat Halloween Candy through the wrapper (not this year. sorry, kid.)

Still making a go at that candy.

We even took Seville on the youth Corn Maze outing on Saturday. Can you believe all that blue sky?

"We're not lost! I swear!"

Seville doesn't really get the "head in the hole" concept.

First Tooth!

On Friday Seville joined the ranks of people who need dentists (I'm sure my brother-in-law, Jason, will be pleased)(he's a 4th year dental student). As a mom, I'm super excited about anything new, so I'm sooooo proud of her for cutting a tooth! I'm also a little sad. The days of the toothless baby are o'er. (Also I know that the biting of certain of my body parts is almost inevitable, so I'm a little on edge now.)


okay, you have to look reeeeally closely to see it, but I swear it's there! It's just a little nub. But it's a sharp little bugger!

I hope my efforts in getting this picture are appreciated, by the way. Jared thought I was crazy and that I'd never catch it. I almost thought he was right. Here's a sampling of the about 50 thousand pictures I took before the one with the tooth in it.

(I know. This is a neurotic parental post. Bear with me here)

On the Up and Up

Since Jared hasn't managed to post yet, I thought I'd fill in the curious.

The few days after chemo are always rotten for Jared. But they get gradually better and better. And this time, they'll just get better and better... and better... and better, etc. Celebrity Dr. Nichols says it takes roughly a month to get to 90% recovery (what about the last 10%? He didn't mention it. I wonder if it's like that last 10% of your pregnant weight that takes ages and ages to get rid of-?). Anyway, Jared should be able to eat like a horse come Thanksgiving. And hopefully he'll also be able to play football. And go to work. And do fun things. And give me foot rubs (did I say that out loud?).

As for lasting effects, there are a couple potential ones, and we'll just have to wait and see. He has some nerve damage and is losing feeling in his hands and feet. It was severe enough last week that they adjusted his drug regimen to try and minimize further damage, but it got worse anyway. Apparently your nerves generally recover in 6-12 months, but it sounded like if it gets bad, it could possibly be a permanent problem. We'll keep our fingers crossed (even though Jared can't feel his. ha ha! just kidding. that was morbid. sorry. Our lives are a black comedy lately and sometimes it leaks). Anyway, that and fertility. I guess we have to wait 6-12 months to find out whether he has any boys left after all this.

"But is he cured?" is the question I'm sure you're all asking (guessing based on live conversations). Again, we have yet to find that out too. In about a month they'll do another set of scans, and then we'll talk to Celebrity Dr. Nichols about what he sees. Hopefully nothing. Except a shell of a tumor (which apparently takes a long time to go away, even once the cancer is stopped). And then we'll have periodic scans for many years to come. As of now, though, we have every expectation that they'll find zero cancerous activity in a month, and we'll live happily ever after.

One More Time

One! Tomorrow is Jared's final treatment. I'm pretty sure he's not much looking forward to going down there to have it done (anybody know a guy named Guido I can hire in case I have to pry Jared out of the house and into the car? j/k), but it's nice to have the end in sight, and we both can't wait for all of this to be over.

We'll let you know how it goes. Wish him luck!

Mmmmmm... finger lickin' good!

Before putting Seville down for her nap today I noticed I hadn't quite got all the oatmeal off her face. Since my hands were occupied (holding her), I just thought I'd give her a kiss right where the oatmeal was (on her forehead) and suck it off. It was a stubborn, sticky little glob, and I had to resort to some firm licking to try and dislodge it -- at which point I noticed that something was wrong. It was... salty... and... stickier than oatmeal... with a... strange viscosity.... and....!!!!! Suddenly it became clear that it was not oatmeal but a booger!! eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwww! I sucked and licked a booger off my baby's face! Gross!!! That's what I get, I guess, for resorting to actually licking my baby's face instead of using a napkin or washcloth or, heck, even a finger, like a normal mom.

This still doesn't beat my sister-in-law's story, by the way. Though other people's boogers are thoroughly disgusting, I'll admit somewhat shamefully that I'm not very intimidated by my own. In the course of my childhood I must have eaten gallons of my own boogers. Still, somehow someone else's boogers, even your own child's, feels totally repulsive. There are, however, other things which are far worse.

The Days After Round 5

For all my belly-aching on Wednesday night, I'm doing pretty well this morning. Dr. Nichols determined that I was trying to be too much of a tough guy in avoiding my anti-nausea medication. Combating the nausea (and the anticipatory nausea) is far more important than avoiding constipation. So, I'm taking the more of the anti-nausea drugs this time and I have to confess that things aren't so bad.

I can now say that I've only got 1 round left. No matter how much I might not be looking forward to it, it does give me something to excited about. For those of you are relatively new in following our blog, my cancer (primary mediastinal B cell lymphoma) should be "cured" after the 6 rounds of chemo. I'll have to go back for regular check-ups for the next several years, but for all practical purposes, I'll be completely back to normal, ready to live a long, normal, and cancer-free life.

I met a young tough football player in the treatment room on Thursday. He was obviously a new cancer patient. Dr. Nichols asked him how he was doing with the chemo. His response: "I'm kicking a**!!" Sounded just like a tough guy football player. I felt kind of like that at the beginning too. I'm going to try to summon up my inner tough guy for another couple of weeks and blast through the finish line and claim my victory.

And then cancer will be in my rear-view mirror and as Dr. Nichols said, "just a bad memory."

The Night Before Round 5

I'm to the point now where the mere thought of chemo makes me shudder. I'm dreading tomorrow morning.

The first few days after chemo go so slowly - time draws out like a blade. Conversely, the last few days before chemo go by too quickly - hanging on to these good days is like trying to catch flies with chopsticks - the moment you lunge for them they're gone.

Light the Night

Jared's work sponsored us to participate in the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society "Light the Night" cancer walk Friday night. It's this fundraising event where you walk downtown for a few miles carrying balloons with lights in them (they're actually really cool. You hold this little battery pack in your hand and the string to the balloon is this little copper wire that powers the light bulb. Naturally, Jared the patent guy thought they were ingenious)

Here is the BSTZ team.

You can see one white balloon in this picture. Cancer patients and survivors carried white (everyone else, red). So Jared had a white one too.

This is fuzzy, but closer to what it actually looked like. Kinda glow-ey.

I didn't know too much about this in advance, but I guess people at Jared's work ponied up and sponsored him to the tune of $800+. If I were a smart person, I would have posted on this blog before the event and invited others to sponsor him/us. But I didn't really know anything about it since a lady at his work handled it all. So, oh well. Next year.