"...keeping things consistent..."

My struggle lately is trying to find what "consistent" is... consistent with what? The way it was? The way it's going to be? For the next 3 months? For forever?
"Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." The words of Jesus in Matthew 6:34. How true. And how difficult sometimes. I can't keep a single hair on my own head from falling out, let alone one of Leslie's. Or the mood of a 2-year-old. Or the results 3 months from now of a radiation process that hasn't even started yet.
I just want so badly to FIX it all. That's the man in me, I guess. We tend to be fixers. Which if we're not careful can make us very bad listeners. It can come across as having a lack of heart-felt compassion. That's why they say we're not "nurturers". I'm not using that as a crutch, or even letting out a Tool-Time Tim caveman grunt of pride. Rather... it's a day-to-day challenge to overcome. The solution?
It may lie in the verse directly before the "do not worry verse" in Matthew. "But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness..." A daily laying down of my agenda, my pride, my LIFE... at the foot of the cross. The line can seem very cloudy at times, though, between laying down my "agenda and pride", and letting go of my responsibilities and retreating, waiting for the day to pass. Burying myself in work or the ballgame or whatever. It is difficult (at home, at work, at play) to "consistently" do the things I need to do to get us through the day, without expecting, coveting-- even demanding-- some sort of noted progress at the end of the day. To see Leslie feeling better. To hear her laugh. To hear the doctors say the words, "you are healed". For TJ to go to bed easily and sleep through the night. To get the car paid off.
I find it odd. Because I'm a "process" person-- not a results-oriented guy... or so I thought. I don't set goals, but take pride and joy in the process of making myself or things better. Maybe my weakness is one of "perseverence"... which is basically, in the running world, continuing to put one foot in front of the other-- in the right direction, keeping pace-- when you can't see the finish line.
I'm not sure it's consistency that I need prayer for. It's perseverence. And that can be a very scary thing to pray for... it might just be granted... through a long, long struggle, with no end in sight. Tyson

a new day......

So my pity party is over. I woke up today feeling much better, physically and emotionally. I don't look like the Elephant Woman anymore. Just a little swollen under my eyes. Tyson went back to work, and TJ has been perfect so far. Mommy feels better so TJ feels better. Amazing. I'm trying not to go too crazy cleaning and getting myself all worn out. I am waiting for my mom to get here so I can put her to work! Thanks for all of your offers to help. One of these days our moms will get tired of the drive, although I love having them around, and we will need to call for some backup. I struggle with wanting to keep things semi-consistent for TJ but needing to admit that we simply can't do it all right now. Poor Tyson needs a break. My goal for the next few days is that he won't have to do one thing that he doesn't want to do when he gets home from work. (Except fix the VCR) (And maybe hang a couple pictures) No really. Unless he WANTS to do those things, he doesn't have to. Until Saturday. So rest up, my dear. Leslie

realization......

If Tyson isn't feeling discouraged about my "low-grade infection" I have to say that I am feeling it for the both of us. That is definitely the word. DISCOURAGED. I feel like I just went at least one week back in my recovery. In my energy and in my pain and discomfort. And definitely my attitude has taken a hit. I'm mostly discouraged about how it is affecting my family dynamics. TJ is frustrated with me again, and Tyson is back to doing it all. I hate it. I hate knowing that I am the reason for the unsettledness in the house, and I can't do one blasted thing about it. I have no energy to fight through the 2 year old mood swings. I have to ask Tyson to do about everything I need to have done because I simply can't do it. I am cringing as I hear TJ demanding that Tyson play with him while Tyson is just trying to get time to himself. (I was supposed to be playing with TJ, but after about 10 minutes he insisted on Daddy and went to find him.) This is going to be a longer road than I thought.I've never been a very patient person. (I can hear my family laugh as they read this.) I hate being needy, and I hate that our lives are revolving around me. I always feel better when the focus isn't on me. As I write this I am realizing how much my focus isn't on God right now. I have sunken to the level of "feeling sorry for myself". My mom used to always say "Things could always be worse. When you are feeling down just think of others who are worse off than you are." As much as that annoyed me, it kind of worked. (don't tell her that though) I do realize that things could be much much worse. So, why can I give God control when I am being wheeled into an operating room to have my head opened up, but I can't seem to give Him control over my speed of recovery? Or my family's well being? Hmmmm. I'll have to think about that.Psalm 34:18-19 The Lord is near to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous; but the Lord delivers him out of them all.Well, time to go deal with a tantrum so Tyson can go do some grocery shopping.
Leslie

"low grade infection"

The severe swelling, as it turns out, seems to be the symptom of a "low-grade" infection. Much like a cold, I guess. But her poor body can't figure out how to drain and clear itself with all the rearranging and reconstruction that's been going on over the past few weeks. So the fluid just gathers and swells, and gives her a headache. And when it does drain, it goes into her stomach, which causes horrible nausea.She threw up in the ER. They gave her some zophran for the nausea, and drew a lot of blood for some more lab's. Those, along with the CAT scan, all came back pretty clear-- except for the high white-cell count, which basically just confirms she's fighting some infection. We've got her on some high-voltage antibiotics now... so hopefully it's just a matter of a couple of days until she's back along her path of improvement.Whew... that was a scare. I didn't know how to take coming home today and seeing her looking like she was looking back in the hospital. That seems like so long ago... It's been a stark reminder that we need to continue to take it slow and steady. She needs much rest. I'm taking the day at home tomorrow to take care of her and TJ and to take her to see Dr. Zender, who-- upon receiving news of today's events-- now wants to see Leslie tomorrow for another "scope" and check-up.I'd be discouraged... but really, I'm just too relieved that everything seems to be alright to be down about the whole incident. We have come to a conclusion, now that we are becoming hospital connoisseurs... The ER sucks. Not nearly as glamorous as it is on those TV shows. We much prefer the comforts and service of the ICU. Although... we'll take an in-and-out visit to the ER over a 5-day stint in ICU any day (or week), if we had to choose-- but here's to hoping we don't have to.Well... I've just put TJ to bed, and I'm off to tuck in Leslie for an early bed-time. Thank you for your prayers today. We could feel ourselves on the brink of panic and severe frustration... but we were sustained yet again. Thank you. And thank God.Tyson

Holiday hangover.......

We're on our way to Loyola, momentarily. Leslie didn't make it to church. I came home to find she was very swollen and very fatigued. She left a message with Dr. Zender this morning, who called back right when I got home around 12:30. He wants her to go the ER for an emergency CAT scan. It could just be fluid from all the "action" over the past few days. I'm hoping we didn't over-do it, making the rounds for the holiday. Dr. Zender is concerned about some potential "air leakage", which would mean she'd have to stay in ICU tonight. The CAT scan will tell us more. Please be praying... this is a little scary... I'll update when we return. It may be several hours... hopefully.Tyson

Plenty of thanks to give.....

We're in Ohio with my family today. It was a quiet and rainy drive yesterday afternoon. Leslie and TJ slept. I just listened to the rain and watched the miles pass. This is truly the most wonderful Thanksgiving ever. I mentioned that to Leslie when she woke up. She gave me a hyper-sentimental, fake-holiday-cheery look and asked with a forced lisp, "So... what are YOU most thankful for this holiday season?!" We both laughed pretty hard, and then I kind of teared up.
I can say I didn't take much "for granted" in life, prior to the cancer bit... but I will say that this season had lost a bit of its meaning. It had grown into more of a "time off of work"... veg' time with the fam'... very fun time of the year, but not truly a season of "thanksgiving" and worship of our flesh-born Savior. But this year I'm very much into the "spirit" of the occasion. With every breath, I seem to be exhaling the words "Thank you..." in silent prayer.
Thank you for another year... another day... with my beautiful wife. Thank you for our beautiful little boy, and that I can watch them loving each other with laughter and kisses for another holiday. Thank you that Leslie gets to watch TJ open his presents, and that she can tell him the story of Baby Jesus in a manger, with his eyes wide with delight and intense interest. Thank you for improving health... for the scoreboard reading in our favor in this competition against cancer. Thank you for the marvelous quality and quantity of food that I'm about to consume... and thank you that at least Leslie can enjoy the sight and nourishment thereof... if not the taste and smell. Thank you for our wonderful families... for parents who support us and who still love each other so well after all these years. For brothers and sisters and in-laws, and aunts, uncles, cousins, etc... who are so enjoyable to be with, and who love us well. Thank you for Your provision... for a job that I enjoy, for good people to work with, and a boss who is understanding and supportive in times such as what we've gone through over the past few weeks. Thanks for your grace, peace, patience, hope, and perseverence, healing, and salvation-- all which have taken on new and profound meaning these days. Thank you for life. And again, the opportunity to share it for another Thanksgiving with my best friend... my "better half"... my Leslie.
Amen. Tyson

What a difference a day makes.

Where do I even begin? Besides waiting for the energy to write, I have been waiting for some kind of profound thought to enter my mind. So far I haven't been able to clear out all the clutter. My mind is still back at the words, "You have cancer." That hasn't even sunken in yet! All of this has been one big dream, and I am just doing what I am told and showing up where I am supposed to be at whatever time "they" tell me to be there. Quite frankly, I am tired of being told what to do!At least my little boy is back. The hardest thing for me this past week has been to see him keep his distance from me like he is afraid of me or angry with me or something. I have a psych degree. I know what is "normal" and what to expect. But that doesn't make it any less painful when it is happening to me. He is the one thing I have been "good at" for the last 2 years. I have felt pretty useless as I watch Tyson have to do it all.And my emotions? Surprisingly, there are none. Well, not regarding my whole experience. Once I got past the fear of the upcoming surgery, the "emotion well" has been dry as a bone. I wish I could say I have been leaping for joy that the surgery went so well. Maybe that will come when I am actually physically capable of leaping. This all has happened so fast that I can't seem to get my mind and heart caught up to the present. I feel like i have been through one nasty fight, and my body still can't believe that I won! I sure feel like I got the crap beat out of me. I went in swinging like mad, but I woke up face down, in pain, with no memory of the fight whatsoever. I will say that it has been remarkable to feel my body heal so rapidly. Every morning and after every nap I feel a little bit better. I have a little bit more energy. And I am able to do a little bit more. My headaches are more tolerable every day. My bruises are fading. My incision is a little less red. My hair is growing back. I wish I could say that my "smeller" is coming back. I didn't think that would bother me much, but I didn't realize all the things I enjoyed smelling every day, TJ after bath time being at the top of the list. I can't even say that I can smell the tiniest bit. I can't smell a lick! Speaking of lick, I can't taste a thing either. It really makes eating quite boring. I can't figure out why I still have ice cream every night when I can't enjoy the flavor. We are creatures of habit. Well, I feel like I am babbling about not much of anything. Please continue to pray for energy as I am getting ready for 6 longs weeks of radiation. I have been told that the radiation itself won't cause fatigue, but the 5 visits a week will! Please pray for the success of radiation. There is no way to know if it "works" but only to trust that this cancer is taken care of and to pray like crazy that it will NEVER return. The thought of that is unbearable at this point. And pray that I can sort out my thoughts and emotions when the time is right. I think right now my mind is in "protection mode" not letting me process things too quickly. As Tyson said, you all must be righteous people, for God has heard your prayers. I am amazed at how He has taken care of us so far. I can only trust that He will carry us through the rest of the journey.Leslie

Trying to reach equililbrium....

Progress is slower but still... well... progressing, day-to-day. As Leslie's physical state becomes more and more steady, and we start to get our "feet beneath us", new challenges are starting to present themselves, now that we're trying to function as a family again-- no Grams, no Mimi, no helpers-- just us (except for the meals that are still coming to our door every other day-- this helps so much, so thank you, those who are involved with that).As an example of such a "challenge"... It seems that TJ has become quite the Daddy's Boy over the past few weeks. He was always Mommy's boy for the most part when it came to bed-time, kissing ouchies, and a need for nurturing and comforting... That tends to be the way things work in most families, I'm guessing. But with Mommy on the "disabled list", things have been different. I think he just doesn't know how to handle being away, then coming back to a "different" mommy-- the scar, the lack of energy, her basic "state of recovery". It's easy for me to see the progress, but for TJ, she's been a very different Mommy. Last night, it kind of came crashing down. TJ's sleep schedule was all messed up. He didn't get an afternoon nap (usually 3-4 hours) (I know, count your blessings!). And by the time dinner rolled around, he was going all haywire. He wouldn't listen to Leslie. He wouldn't even let her hold him. He wouldn't even say "sorry" for being mean to her. It broke our hearts. He'd just grown used to me playing some of the "mommy" role, and I imagine he's just having a hard time coping, not knowing what to make of mommy being different right now.So we're having to adjust. This morning, he actually woke up and called for Mommy around 7-- that's earlier than Leslie wanted to get up, but it was a bit more manageable hearing his sweet little voice asking for her-- he'd been asking for Daddy since he came back home last week. She got him up, fed him breakfast (which allowed me to sleep in- WOO HOO!!). And it was beautiful to hear him laughing and to hear them interacting a little more "normally" downstairs, as I layed in bed. By 9:30, Leslie needed to go back to bed-- it took all she had in her-- but it was such a good morning. And this morning-- at least for now-- we have our sweet little guy back.That's just one story of many I could tell over the past few days... trying to find our "roles" again. Trying to figure out "balance". With work, with household duties, with parenting... It's hard for us both to know what I should just do, or what she should wrestle through... where I should encourage her, and where I should take over.Anyway... that's our struggle these hours and days. All part of "healing" I assume.By the way, Leslie had her "radiation mask" made yesterday. TJ and I drove her to the Loyola Radiology/Oncology department-- her new home away from home. She had a CAT scan, and they created this weird mesh "mask". This is what her face will fit into during her radiation treatments, to make sure she is immobilized, and to help the machine "aim" properly. Radiation will start in a couple of weeks. Tyson

Dawn

We met with Dr. Zender today. He scoped and cleaned out Leslie's nose (very gross and cool process, and I got to watch on the screen...). And he went over the pathology reports in great detail with us. He reiterated that "Things could not have gone any better than this." There is no detectable trace of cancer left in Leslie! Praise God.There is still a possibility of some undetected microscopic traces of tumor/ carcinoma remaining up there... sooo... On with radiation... We met with Dr. Emami, the radiologist who will be in charge of her follow up radiation regimen. 5 days a week for 6 weeks, starting the week after Thanksgiving. The good news is that there will be no need for chemo! Again, praise God! She may experience some hair loss (funny enough-- in the BACK of her head, and only in small hide-able patches-- where the radiation beams will actually be LEAVING her body after passing through their target). Other short-term side effects will/ may also include "sunburn" type symptoms on her forehead, nose, and cheeks, and some congestion and tearing of the eyes. But he said it really shouldn't fatigue or nauseate her at all... at least, the radiation won't... the daily commute to Maywood might, though.After that, we'll need more follow-up MRI's as well, and they'll know then what our outlook is moving forward. We have follow-up appointments already scheduled with Drs. Prabhu and Zender. But everyone seems to say Leslie is in the very top percentile, when it comes to likelihood of avoiding a recurrence. Things I've read online (the Doctors won't come out and conjecture "percentages" in her case), suggest that, given this successful of a surgery, she is 85-95% "in the clear". If there had been remnant "negative ratios" in the tissue following surgery, that percentage would be down around 45-65%... so again, we're prayerfully thankful for such a successful surgery. (Please understand that the last few sentences have been me piecing together what I've read over the past three weeks with what the doctors in Leslie's case are telling us, specifically.) All that being said... due to the success of the surgery, while the rest of Leslie's life will include periodic "cancer check-ups" and close monitoring of her sinuses and head, we have renewed hope to never have to go through this surgery process again. For that we are thankful, and rather giddy this evening. NOW! Back to recovering!Her nausea was much better today. So was her headache. She is still very weak and sleepy, and her vision is still pretty messed up. She lost 15 pounds through this, but with her loss of taste and smell (and the aforementioned nausea), it's hard to build up the appetite to eat as much as she should.Overall, though, our mood around the house tonight is very upbeat. A great day today. Another answer to prayer... Please, if you've been praying for Leslie, be sure to give Him glory and thanks for these blessings. We did our best to turn to him in the darkest hour of this thing, and we will do the same in the light and joy of this "sunrise". Tyson

Mid Day lull.....

All is quiet. Both of my babies are asleep for what I hope to be long afternoon naps.
Marked progress for Leslie today. Not as much nausea, a little less splitting of headache. She remained in pretty good spirits all through the 2 1/2 hour excursion to see Dr. Prabhu and back. She just hit the wall when she got home, but I was so proud of her. Conversation was almost normal in the car on the way home... we were laughing at each other and telling TJ stories. It was wonderful. Hopefully her pillow will be a little more comfortable this afternoon-- they removed the stitches today. So now she can shower and wash her hair and everything all by herself. She's all grown up!
The big visit will be tomorrow. We go back to talk to Dr. Zender, and the Radiation specialist we'll be working with in the next "phase". There will be quite a bit more to update on then. As far as Dr. Prabhu is concerned, he says everything looks wonderful... the vision and sensation problems Leslie has been having are to be expected and will self-correct, most likely. The MRI looks great. Sometimes it's hard to differenciate between fresh scar tissue/ "healing" and remnant tumor cells... but he feels that the weird readings they're getting are "the good stuff". She'll have to have another MRI during or after her initial radiation program to confirm. That should start right around Thanksgiving. Happy holidays! :) tyson

Praises to our Father.....

Praise and thanks to our Father for the gift of a family, tonight. TJ came home and was so hyper with joy when he saw Mommy. He was rather intrigued with Mommy's ouchie, but did not seemed to be very traumatized by her state. To be honest, she's looking so good. Almost back to normal completely. She feels much to the contrary, though, and there were tears getting ready to go the the MRI this morning. It was her first time "getting ready" to go anywhere in the past 2 weeks. To you and me, lying there on the couch, she'd appear (as I described a minute ago) "almost normal". But to herself, while she's trying to do her hair-- even just casually to go to a doctor's appointment-- things are so different. Everything feels different, looks different. That was a hard moment. And it probably didn't help that she was feeling so crappy this morning. Nausea was not so bad, but the head was really hurting her. She went with the large dark sunglasses, opting away from the pirate patch for the trip. Wore a really cute headband that covered up the scar. She looked so good to me. I looked at her as I was helping her walk into the MRI clinic, giggled and told her she looked like a rock star. She wasn't amused. I think she's doing much better tonight, though. That probably has a lot to do with the little angel who is now fast asleep in his bed. He had so much fun with Mimi and Papa, but it's so good to have him home. We rocked and read and sang songs tonight. He asked for mommy, but settled for me when I explained mommy's ouchies wouldn't allow her to do the bedtime routine just yet. I had to fight back sobs of joy as we were rocking and singing "I'm in the Lord's Army" (he shouts "YES SIR!"), and "Twinkle Little Star". After we prayed and rocked a little longer in silence, I stood up with him and my arms, gave him one more kiss and put him in bed. I patted his back lightly and whispered, "It's so good to have you home, buddy. You make me happy." He answered, half asleep already, "You're welcome."Thank you, Lord, for the gift of this little family. And for the gift of more time to be together wholly as such-- to your glory and honor.Off to Dr. Prabhu's in the morning for the neurology recap of the surgery and review of the post-op MRI's. If there's anything negative there now, I'm praying it's been miraculously expunged by the time we sit down with the doctor. There will be most likely much to update on following that visit. If not tomorrow, certainly after Wednesday's visit with Dr. Zender. We should have our "game plan" in place by then... schedule of radiation, etc... I guess they call it a "prognosis". It's still so hard to bring myself to use "cancer" vocabulary. At times we both look at each other and say something along the lines of... "is this really happening?", half-expecting to wake up from a beautifully weird and rather bad dream... any minute now...

Sunday in a Nutshell

Today was a much better day. She was still very nautious in the morning. But as the day progressed, so did she. We took a big break from any kind of physical activity. (She stayed in bed until 11:57 this morning... hey, it was still morning.) Maybe tomorrow we'll take another walk.
I'm working from home this week. And TJ is coming home with my mom tomorrow afternoon. It will be a joyous homecoming, for sure. In the darkest place of our minds, there was this fear that... well... I'll just restate... it will be so good to have TJ home with his mommy tomorrow.
I talked to him on the phone today. He asked where mommy was, and I said she was home from the hospital. "She want to talk to me on the phone?" He asked in his beautiful little two-year-old intonation. He talked to mommy for about 10 minutes... a TJ record, I believe. You only usualy get a second or two before he says "Bye-bye". He misses his mommy. And we miss him.
As she's eating more, she's confirmed the loss of her smell and taste. And the feeling in the left side of the inside of her mouth. (and unrelated, the feeling on the top of her head.) Weird. It sounds so trivial, considering what dangers she's faced over the past week... but I really hope she gets her sense of taste back. One of our favorite things to do together is go out to eat. We're big fans of food-- and a perfect date night to us includes fine dining out and an early bed-time. Or at least, that's the way it was. Again... trivial, really, all things considered. Oh yeah, her left eye is still screwy. She donned the patch most of the day. She's being a good sport about it and kind of laughed when I sang the Captain Feathersword's Pirate Dance song.
We talked and laughed and just hung out this evening. It was wonderful to have my best friend back.
I'm still nudging her toward starting to pick up with her blog. I really don't like speaking (or typing) for her. But it is still so hard for her to read, due to the eyesight. She is trying to adjust to focusing with just one eye.
Anyway, that's today in a nutshell... Tyson

Lazy Saturday

This is going to be a long stretch of days. Leslie slept more than half the day-- that's what she needs most. I'm in charge of dispensing the prescriptions, meals, and making sure she's comfortable... but it's really an easy task. But she really needs someone here 24/7 right now. When she's not sleeping, she's half-sitting-half-lying propped up in bed or on the couch. She's trying to watch TV out of her "good eye"-- that passes some time. She tried doing some email catch-up... only read 3-4 messages, and didn't get any typing in before it became too much. I'd hoped she could give you a all a "shout out" on the blog today, but my encouragement to do so was bordering on pestering, so I'm letting that drop for now.This morning, we did 3 laps around the inside of the main floor of the house. And we just got back from a walk outside-- we made it down the driveway, and over 3 houses on the sidewalk! And back! :) She's in quite a bit of pain now-- every time she so much as sits up, her head starts throbbing. The progress is measurable, to be sure. Unfortunately, the distance we have to go is less measurable. Who knows... Maybe tomorrow she'll make it all the way to the stop sign...The nausea was very bad this morning. She threw up quite a bit-- perhaps a side effect of the narcotic pain killer. She's going to try to get through tonight just with strong Tylenol, to try to avoid the nausea in the morning.Three main prayers of petition: 1. continued healing and physical progress 2. easing of pain and nausea, and 3. overall outlook/ attitude. The last week was a "sprint" of sorts. The weeks leading up to it were a blur of the intense preparation thereof. Now, we're into the "marathon" portion of the journey... and it's hard to see an end in sight... I'm hoping the Dr.'s appointments on Mon, Tues, and Wed. this week will go a long way to paint more detail picture of what we're working toward. It's so much easier to endure when you can see the horizon. Cue, my favorite Jason Harrod song:When you go out on your boat, and the wind is ripping you,And you feel the water rising,See the line of blue on blue? It was given as a gift to you.Keep your eyes on that horizon.'Cause what have we not been given?What have we not been shown?Lord, allow us to rest-- content and at peace in our spirits-- in the shelter of your almighty arms... beneath the shadow of your wings. May this time be a time of peace and not of frustration. Of encouragement and not discouragement. At time for us to enjoy together, and not to count the minutes until the "next big thing". Tyson

Back in her own bed......

Many prayers of thanksgiving and peace tonight. She at a good dinner-- soup that some friends dropped off tonight. We took a quiet walk under all 12 stars the Bolingbrook sky has to offer-- all the way to the end of the driveway and back. She took a bubble bath. We taped up her open wounds/ stitches/ etc... really well. I washed her hair. Conditioner and everything. I had to get a comb out to get through it all-- carefully working through tangles and dried blood and dead tissue, keeping her 40+ stitches dry, and not pulling on the skin as little as possible. It's refreshing on so many levels for her to have clean hair. A "ceremonial cleansing" of sorts. Symbolic, but just plain hygienic, all at the same time. She has such beautiful hair, and it was a beautiful precious moment. She's asleep for the night (at least I hope she sleeps through the night). For bed-time reading, I read through some of all of our reflections on the blog over the past week. She remembers some-- but not all-- of the events recorded. And was again so thankful to have friends and family who have been praying for and supporting and encouraging her through this.Tomorrow, I will encourage her to give a little blog shout-out. I may have to do the typing. The light sensitivity and double vision play havoc when looking at a computer screen. Maybe the eye patch will help. Arrrrrrrrrrrgh. :)Good night. Tyson

Home Sweet Home

Just got home about a half-hour ago. Leslie's already asleep in her bed. She hardly slept at all last night, and the drive here took everything she had left in her. She's battling bouts of nausea and headaches (understandable). As I was helping her up the stairs to bed, she started whimpering a little. I asked her if her head hurt. She shook her head. "Nausea?" I asked. She shook her head a gain, now sobbing. I asked what was wrong. "It's just good so to be home."It is indeed.We're not ready for visitors yet. Perhaps over the weekend. You can call me on my cell if you're local and wanting to stop by. Right now, she just needs to rest. Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday are all booked with more MRIs and doctor's appointments... you know... on with the next step in the lifelong task of beating cancer. A little ironic, isn't it?My house feels like home again... just missing the joy (and noise) of a two-year-old, now... but we'll have plenty of that soon enough. Tyson

!!!!!!!!!

I can't find the words that paint and adequate picture of my joy, thanksgiving, and excitement this morning.
LESLIE IS COMING HOME THIS MORNING! We just took a short walk together, under the assessment of the PT-- a "final exam" of sorts... we passed with flying colors! In about a half-hour, they'll be bringing her discharge papers and meds to take home. On a hunch this morning, I turned up the thermostat at the house and packed some clothers for her. (And yes, I made the bed.) :)
Praise be to God the Father for his provision and healing. Check off another on the long list of prayers being answered this week!!!

Saying goodnight....

I'll be leaving soon... no more VIP/ ICU treatment, where the nurses and tech's turn a blind eye to visiting hours & rules, where they are quickly at your service on request, etc... We're just one of the "common folk" tonight. :) So it's night-night at nine sharp. We haven't taken that walk yet... Not sure we'll get it in. Her head's hurting pretty badly. She did walk a bit earlier with the PT, though... so huge strides today. It's harder to leave, again tonight, because of my lower level of confidence in her general comfort overnight. God has provided with brain settling, tumor removal, pathology readings, and other huge stuff this week... I'm sure he can grant her a little peace and rest tonight. "Come to me, you who are weary..." Tomorrow, I'll have her blog you all a little something. She can't see tonight well enough to read/ type, and again, we can't have a conversation without the roommate "joining in" the discussion. So we'll wait for a better moment for her to put two thoughts together. Good night! Sleep tight... and perhaps with ear plugs, if necessary. :) Tyson

Home Saturday!

Leslie woke up to the sound of Dr. Zender's voice coming down the hallway. I didn't even hear him coming. She's grown to listen for certain voices with her eyes swolen shut over the past week. She said, "hi, Dr. Zender". I thought she was dreaming. Then I looked up from my computer, and there he was, coming in the door.
They removed her feeding tube!!! YES! What a wonderful and horrible experience, all at the same time. I could draw some analogies, but... again... there are kids reading this, I hear...
Dr. Zender did confirm she's experiencing some double-vision, due to the work they did around her left eye. He had prepared us for this, and says it is most likely just temporary and/or correctable. He said they may give her an eye patch for a while, until the muscles heal properly. (TJ will think she's Captain Feathersword.) The doctor's orders for this evening: a long romantic walk down the hospital hallway. Seriously, it's as good as the beach, as far as I'm concerned right now. Except... being in New Smyrna Beach with TJ right now sounds pretty nice.
Dr. Zender says we'll most likely be home on Saturday. Deep breath. Sigh of relief. Respiration all around. And another big HALLELUJAH! Tyson

Out of ICU...

Not to be a grouch... but I liked it better in ICU. Let's just say that there is now extra motivation for Leslie to advance with her eating and exercises. We have a very talkative "roommate". And the roommate has a very grouchy guest. I wish we could hang a do-not-disturb sign on the other side of the curtain between us-- I thought the pulled curain kind of implied, "seriously... we don't want to talk to you right now." And I wish the roommate had headphones for the TV. I just don't care to be listening to "Inside Edition" right now. Leslie doesn't seem to mind... she's sleeping through it.
Leslie progressed very well with her eating and exercising at lunch. She ate about 1/3 of what they served her. She really can't taste a thing (although it's hospital food-- I thought maybe that not tasting it would be a good thing... and then I tried it and realized I couldn't taste it either.) But she choked it down, in hopes to convince the doctors that she's ready to have the feeding tube removed. Exercise time was a huge success. She didn't "hit the wall" until 50 paces very slowly, back-and-forth beside her bed. And I didn't help much either-- she just needed my hand for balance. That wore her out. She started to lie back down, and then they came in and said it was time to move! Now she's sleeping in her new not-so-private digs. Pray for a fast discharge. :) And give thanks to God for her progress!
Tyson

New regimen

So here's how it's going to go for the next day or so... Get up and out of bed for meal times. Each time get up and do a little more, a little longer. We're slowly training her body to be alive again, out of bed, off the drugs. The tone of the nurses is definitely changing from that of sympathetic caregiving, to more of an aerobics instructor/ drill sergeant feel. They just want her to get better, for her to get out of here and get home.
This is going to be so hard for her. And hard for me to know how to balance being a compassionate protector and a motivational cheerleader. Too much compassion, and she won't be motivated to get better. Too much encouragement/ pushing and she'll "pop". But she needs both. My poor girl. My heart hears her whimpers and just wants to tell the nurses to back off and let her rest. My head tells me this is necessary for her to get stronger.
She's back asleep. She was up in a chair for 55 minutes at breakfast. Ate a whole bowl of Cheerios, and a few bites of bacon and English muffin. And she's drinking a lot of water. But all of this took everything she had in her. She was sweating and crying when they helped her back into bed.
At lunch time, we're shooting for 2 hours, and a walk around the bed. The nurse is making it sound like they're expecting her to be out of ICU later today. A couple days ago, that was something to look forward to. In the grand scheme, I know it is. In the moment, though... I'm not so sure. Tyson