Daddy's girl (well, one of them!)

Every night at bedtime I spend a little time with each child doing our "bedtime" routine of singing, praying, reading, tickling their backs, etc. I always end with Brooklyn, because she 1. stays up the latest, and 2. always wants to chat more than the rest of them do. She always asks me how my day was, and we talk about hers as well. She usually always asks me how Bobby is doing too.

Last night when she asked me how he was I told her that he was in some pain and was getting ready to take more medicine. Then she caught me off guard when she said "I'm so happy, Mom! He's finally getting his personality back." She then shared with me how terrible it was all summer when he was so sick and slept most of the time. She even said it seemed like he was dead most of the time. I knew exactly how she felt! But then she told me how he had started to joke around with her, tease her, and tickle her like he used to. I'm so glad that she could recognize the small progress he is making! Of all the kids, I'm certain it was the toughest on her. Frequently during his treatments she would go in her room and cry if she could see or hear him barfing, gagging, or in any other distress. Several nights during his treatment (and still) I would come out from putting the other kids to bed to find her laying on his lap or shoulder while he slept on the couch. I know that he was aware of her sometimes, but I also know that MANY times he wasn't. How difficult that must have been for her to need and want her father, only to feel like he was "dead" to her.

Things are looking up, though! He is more aware of things now, and is trying to become a father again. Last night we were talking, and I told him that I needed to go do dishes. When I walked out Seth immediately asked me if I could read to him, so I sat down with him and Kaymbria and started to read instead of clean up. Bobby noticed, and went into the kitchen to clean up dishes and food that he can't even eat with us! He has been able to start reading again, and is certainly more mentally alert than he has been in a long time.

It's been exactly 3 weeks since his last treatment, and there is noticeable progress. Maybe not as quick as we had hoped, but he is headed in the right direction. I hope to be able to report more good news as his recovery continues!

What I've learned

Ever since May 26 (the day I found out) I have prayed to know Heavenly Father’s will regarding this trial. I never questioned why this came to us, but did question Where do we go from here? and most importantly, What am I supposed to learn from this? I have prayed to recognize these things, and have prayed for the courage to accept His will, and move forward in faith, learning what I needed to learn.

Matthew 11:28-30 has always been a favorite scripture of mine, and with Bobby’s diagnosis, it seemed to immediately be in the forefront of my mind again. “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

I took this counsel to heart, and began to “learn of Him” through fervent scripture study and words of the prophets. I immersed myself in study and prayer, and feel that I was able to understand the atonement in a way that perhaps I hadn’t known before. Christ suffered for ALL of us, and for ALL of our sins. BUT, his suffering reaches far beyond the sinners- it reaches out to those who have been sinned against, those who are down trodden, lonely, sick, depressed, confused. No matter what our burdens may be, we can lay them at the feet of the Savior, and he will take them up. The price has been paid already! There is no need for extra suffering, for that is the very gift that our Savior gives to us- relief from the pain and suffering we experience in mortality. I prayerfully and tearfully laid my burdens at the feet of our Savior and experienced an almost immediate relief, comfort, peace.

That’s not to say that things have been a piece of cake since then, though. There are certainly ups and downs, and times when I am afraid, worried, sad, lonely. But this is human nature, and I cannot escape those feelings entirely. John 14:27 says “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” I have learned something of the relationship of faith and fear. When one is dominant, it causes the absence of the other. Faith and fear do not walk hand in hand- one will dispel the other. When I have been overcome with fear and worry, I have learned that I must exercise more faith. As I do, my fear subsides and I carry on. Moroni teaches “ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith.” This trial of my faith has proven to be a priceless experience.

I have experienced over this summer a sort of separation from Bobby. I miss him, I miss talking with him, doing things with him. I miss how he plays and laughs with the kids. I miss so many things, big and small about him. I see him now more than I usually do, but there is still a distinct feeling of separation there. Our relationship is intact, but for a time, it is not available. These things have made me think of Heavenly Father and Jesus. Before we came to earth, we each had a real relationship with them. Entering into mortality caused a separation from them, but yet, I truly believe that the relationship is still intact, and just as I miss Bobby, I feel that they truly miss us too. I cannot travel through “the valley of the shadow of death” that Bobby journeys in now, all I can do is be waiting for him on the other side when he returns. Heavenly Father waits for me to return as well. I truly believe that He is anxious for that reunion.

I thought, also, of how I have had a newborn baby 4 times in my life. I experienced extreme pain and fatigue as I gave birth, and then cared for that newborn day in and day out. During those first several weeks of the baby’s life all I did was nurse, bathe, change, hold, and love with everything that I had, that precious child. But what did that baby give me in return? Nothing. Until about 6 weeks later, and one glorious moment, the baby gave me that first REAL smile. The smile that brings such joy, your heart wants to burst. The smile that seems to say, “Yes, I know you! I love you too!”

Do you suppose that whenever we recognize our Heavenly Father and Savior in even a small way they feel that joy too? I have decided that I can recognize their love and acknowledge them and give honor to them by doing the very things that they would do if they were (physically) here. I will try harder now to serve others, to love unconditionally, to lighten the load of others, to be obedient to the gospel and more committed to it, to learn of the Savior, and follow His example. This, I know, will bring me lasting joy, and hopefully joy to others as well.

The gospel of Jesus Christ means everything to me and is an anchor during the storm-tossed seas of life. I haven't learned everything I need to know- this I am sure of. But what I do know gives me hope. I have faith and hope and peace of mind knowing that everything will be ok. I fiercely want Bobby to be cured, BUT, if that is not Heavenly Father's will, then I still know everything will be ok. I truly believe that my family can be together forever, and this provides comfort beyond measure.

Slow and steady wins the race

It turns out that I wasn't the only one who has lost patience with all this... Bobby shared with me a couple days ago just how tired he is of being sick. We saw our doctor on Tuesday, and he said that he still considers Bobby to be in the "treatment" phase, since the chemo stays in his system for weeks. The next day was tough for him, physically, but mostly emotionally. A dear friend of ours brought by his convertible and left the keys for Bobby and I to take a nice, long drive that evening. It was great for him to get out of the house, see the stars, and get some fresh air. Bobby is down, but doing his best to push through it. I pray each day that he will recognize any improvements, no matter how small they may be, so that it will lift his spirits and give him hope for a brighter tomorrow.

We ARE seeing small improvements. First, he is off the narcotic patch. He was due for another one on Tuesday, but insisted that he didn't need it any longer. He feels that his pain is under control, and is now back to just vicoden as needed. His gagging problem seems to be getting slightly better. He has tried to swallow water on a couple of occassions recently. I know that doesn't sound like much, but for him to even want to TRY to swallow is progress.

He has been comforted lately with wonderful fellow teachers at his school who are paving the way for a smooth transition back into work when he is ready.

We continue to be so grateful each day for the love and support we feel from so many. Some of our days feel long and difficult, some of our sleepless nights are lonely and exhausting, but we have developed stronger faith and hope through it all.

"Have courage for the great sorrows of life, and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake." -Victor Hugo

One day at a time. Slow and steady. He WILL win this race.

He's Done!!

Wednesday, August 5 was his last day of treatment! We came home with this certificate from the radiology team who has seen him every day since June. Later that evening, before my family left to return home, my sister organized a celebration parade for the kids to do. They marched right into our living room with signs and posters attached to Ensure bottles and put a smile on Bobby's face. Although he couldn't verbalize his appreciation, he did give them a round of applause for their efforts!

For 58 days Bobby has endured surgeries, chemotherapy, radiation, endoscopies, CT scans, MRIs, PET scans, two biopsies, and too many blood tests and injections to even count. I have had to stand by his side and watch it all happen, mostly feeling like my hands were tied and there was nothing I could do to help. I have observed his quiet strength and awed over his ability to take it all, NEVER once complaining.

Wednesday was a good day, a true reason to celebrate. However, since then, I have felt my patience dwindling. I want so badly for him to be well again. I hate the pain he is in. I am anxious to have this entire experience behind us. I am ready to have a loving husband and father again in our home. His "absence" for the last 58 days has made me realize more fully just how blessed I am to have him.

I haven't been sleeping well for a long time, and last night I read something that hit home: "When things go wrong, as they sometimes will, When the road you're trudging seems all up hill, When care is pressing you down a bit, Rest, if you must- but don't you quit." So, I rested, and this morning awoke determined to move forward and recognize the small improvements that he is going to have each day from here on out.

Chemotherapy #3

July 30 was Bobby's final chemo treatment. The days following it have been much like this picture... he sleeps and sleeps. Our doctor switched him to a patch to manage his pain better, and he gets a slow, constant release of pain medication that lasts for 3 days. Once we started that, he was able to rest much better. There are so many things I hate about this disease, this treatment, this condition that he's in, but through it all, I am glad that he can sleep most of the time.

I miss him, though.

I'm sad for what he has missed... Bria's fourth birthday with Grandpa, celebrating with about 60 family members from all around the country.

She loved her cake and loved to tell everyone that she was the princess, and Grandpa was the frog. He serenaded her with one of his barbershop songs "Frog kissin" and they blew out the candles together.

I'm sad that he's missed most of our family reunion and the craziness that comes along with it!