An Ending and a Beginning

Well, first let me say that I am very sorry this post is long in coming!  The past few weeks have been some of the most difficult of our lives... and blogging was the last thing on my list.

On May 14, 2009, my dear mother-in-law went home to be with her Saviour.  It was the end of a very long struggle with cancer.  However, as this was taking place, Scott was just beginning to take the first steps of his journey with cancer.

We flew to WI rather quickly when we received the word that Scott's mom only had days left on this earth.  We arrived on a Friday night and were able to spend a few precious days with her.  However, that Wednesday Scott had an appointment with his oncologist back home in Denver.  While his mother was on the brink of death, we were forced to make a decision... should he return to make his appointment and meet with his oncologist for the first time, or should he cancel his appointment and remain with his mother?  It was difficult, because we had been waiting for this appointment for over three weeks.  If Scott missed this, it may have pushed treatment back at least another month, and we weren't sure what stage his cancer was in.

Scott and his dad decided that he needed to return and go to the appointment.  So, Scott did the difficult and said good-bye to his mother before boarding a plane to return to Denver.  The kids and I stayed behind in WI, knowing it would only be days if not hours before she passed away.  It was during this time that I was privileged to be able to care for my mother-in-law in her last hours.

The day of Scott's appointment, hospice came to my in-law's home to care for Bergetta (Scott's mom).  The nurse asked her if she was ready to pass on, and Bergetta said,

"No... I'm waiting for my son to return".

Needless to say, it was more than I could bear to hear.  

Later on that day I was able to talk with Scott and received the news from his appointment, which didn't sound promising.  His oncologist staged his Hodgkins at a 2A... meaning that the cancer has spread from his lymph node and is now in his upper thoracic area (chest), above his diaphragm.  The oncologist also took a bone marrow biopsy (which we weren't expecting), to rule out any cancer in that area.  he told Scott that he would need chemotherapy for four months and radiation for two months.

After hearing all of that the only thing I could do was weep.  My father-in-law and I sat on the couch and he held me as I poured out my anguish over everything that was happening in our lives.  Scott's brother, Corey was on the phone with Scott repeating his mom's remark, and lining up an immediate flight back to WI.

Scott rushed from the clinic to the airport and made it back to Wisconsin by midnight.  As his family gathered by his mom's bedside, her last words were,

"Everyone's here."

The next day her decline was rapid and she was ushered into the arms of Jesus that evening. 

We took the next week for the viewing, funeral, and burial as well as writing out thank you cards, etc.  It was a difficult week in the fact that we had to put grief for one life event on hold, while we grieved for the other event.  I have to admit that at times, it felt so unfair to have to do that.  I just wanted to grieve for how our lives were about to completely change due to this new diagnosis... yet I had to grieve with and for my husband's loss of his mother and my kid's loss of their grandmother.  I felt like after this, almost everyone could return to their normal daily lives, except for us.  We just couldn't come back home and carry on... we were about to have a new normal.

So, this past Friday we hadn't been home yet a week, and we were at the hospital for a full day of surgery, scans, and diagnostic tests.

Scott had a CT scan of his spleen done in addition to pulmonary and cardiac function tests done to record a baseline before the chemo.  Because the chemo drugs can damage heart and lungs, it was necessary to know where he was at before taking the drugs.  After that, he went in for a port placement.  This was a surgery where they out in an IV access into his superior vena cava (his big heart vein), and placed the access site under his skin.  This way, whenever he needs his treatment, they can access that instead of sticking him every time.  This is also the preferred vein to place the chemo into, as it will not cause damage to his peripheral veins.

I spent the day there with him, struggling with my emotions and attitude.  If you know me you know that the less drama I experience in life, the better.  I have had sweet moments of being able to lay this burden at the cross and walk away.  Yet, I have also had many moments of picking it up and clinging to it tightly.  There have been many times that I'm not even sure how to communicate to, express with, or treat Scott.  One moment I know that I can't do it all, and yet the next moment I feel that I'm the one that needs to hold it all together for our family; for our kids.  One moment I'm free, and the next overwhelmed.  Some days I live moment by moment with this trial we have been called to bear.

And that brings another "why" thought.  Why does the Lord want us to walk this path?  Why now when our children are so young?  What is His purpose in all of this?  What am I supposed to learn?  

All these questions and more surface as I watched Scott tighten his belt to another notch in order to make it tighter.  He's lost muscle mass and inches as the cancer feeds off of the protein in his body.  He's in pain from the tumor that is pressing on nerves as well as the new port that has been forced under his skin.  He's not allowed to lift anything this next week... including his baby girl.

Today gave us a few more definite answers.  We met with both the radiation and chemotherapy oncologists to set up a treatment plan.  We are thankful to the Lord that his chemo will only be two months and radiation will be one month.  The chemo was changed to half of the projected time due to a new study that was just released in Germany regarding Hodgkins patients and the current treatment.  Our doctor was willing to go with those results due to the fact that Scott's age, stage of cancer, etc. places him in a more "favorable" category for treatment.  Both oncologists were very patient with all of our questions and were very willing to work around Scott's work schedule.

I felt a renewed sense of hope as I sat through the appointments.  As I was waiting for Scott to schedule his treatment dates, I read 2 Peter 5:10-11.

"And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.  To him be the power forever and ever.  Amen."

I saw that that's what I want to be... strong, firm and steadfast.  

During this last weekend of emotional struggle for me, the words of Jeremy Camp's song "Walk by Faith" have deeply pierced my heart.  It says:

Would I believe you when you would say 
Your hand will guide my every way 
Will I receive the words You say 
Every moment of every day 

[chorus]
Well I will walk by faith 
Even when I cannot see 
Well because this broken road 
Prepares Your will for me 

Help me to win my endless fears 
You've been so faithful for all my years 
With one breath You make me new 

Your grace covers all I do  

May I walk this broken road with perseverance and determination to come to the end as a strong, firm and steadfast believer in the one, true God who knows our every footstep before we even take one.