How is Caden?

I gave my kids a survey at the beginning of summer, something quick for them to fill out, with one "theme" woven through each question: What would make your summer more fun?  It also included questions where the answers were chores they could opt out of, too.  Like I said, what would make summer more fun.  At the beginning of summer, Caden's answers centered around boating.  Once radiation started, he said he'd like to change his answer to "camping."  The very weekend that radiation ended, we packed up our gear and headed for a campsite close enough to come home if it was too difficult for him, yet at a place that was completely new to us: Fishhook State Park on Lake Sacajawea on the Snake River.  Still having troubles with my phone releasing all of our camping photos, so this will be a post about how Caden is feeling these days.

(He is very proud of his mallow skills.  Perfectly toasted every time.)

He was able to titrate off of ALL medications.  The only thing he takes now is an Omeperazol for stomach issues caused by the steroid (just a once daily) and Ibuprofen for any discomfort, should he have any.  The one thing that causes him the most discomfort these last few days is headache, but even that hasn't been too bad-- maybe a small one every other day.

He is gaining stamina each day, but he is still so tired, with bouts of extreme weakness.  While Ashlee and Russ were here on Saturday, he went to the pool with Aria, (because "They stopped at our house so Aria could see Caden," that's why) but could only "swim" with her for about an hour and a half, mainly in the baby pool, with the time including the mandatory break time/lunch break.  He came home and stayed in bed the rest of the day.  Granted, he went camping the night before, but all of these pictures capture the extent of his exertions.  Sunday was the same-- 3 hours of church, then bed the rest of the day.

 Camping became his First Choice Summer Activity for this very purpose: Relaxing near the river, watching the sunset with his Miracle by his side.  Perfection.

(He is very proud of his Fire skills.)

Each day gets better and better- slow, but sure.  Dr. Jones told us that the effects he is feeling today are the results of last weeks' treatment.  Since his last treatment was last Tuesday, I'm hoping that things will really take a turn for the better this week, that he'll gain more and more stamina each day.  Especially since we leave for the Side-by-side Summer cancer camp that begins on Sunday.  From what we've heard, Side-by-side Summer camp is Winter camp (that we attended in February and LOVED) on steroids!  It's gonna be the highlight of our summer- epic even- and I want him to enjoy every single second without thought of his Stupid Cancer! 

Car Craziness

I am having some legitimate problems getting the pictures off of my phone from our camping overnighter this weekend-- stupid technology!  Once I can figure out what's going on, you'll see proof of our fun time.

We woke on Saturday morning, cooked up an entire package of bacon for breakfast (probably the second package of bacon ever cooked in our household-- this was a treat!), along with cereal with milk, of course, and packed up to come home.  Once we were all ready, everyone in their seats and arguing with fervor about breathing the same air and touching each other's personal space, we tried turning on the car.... dead battery.  We got out, unpacked the back to get our jumper cables, and got everything packed up again about 20 minutes later.  Finally, we were on the road.

Ash and Russ had stayed at our home Friday night, breaking up their trip on their way home from Utah, so I was anxious to get home to spend time with them before they left.  Super happy we got to start out our morning with a dead battery while family waited for us to come home!  Add to that wasted time a 50 minute drive and you have a year's worth of waiting before you can see them!

I kid you not, I had just sent Ashlee a text, letting her know we'd just gotten off our exit, that I was feeling the mounting pressure of excitement at seeing her, pressed Send... and immediately started hearing something wrong with our car.  Flat Tire!  In less than an hour from our dead battery.

Not to worry: Russ came to grab the kids while Randy, Caden, and a stranger changed the flat.  Ever tried getting a spare tire off of a 2004 Yukon XL?  No?!  There's a YouTube video for that, just so you know.  You're welcome.  The stranger was getting frustrated, even.  Two knowledgeable men, laying on their backs under a massive beast on the hot asphalt in the hot Tri-Cities heat wave, tugging and yanking in the limited space, finally able to get it after many minutes of trial and error.  The stranger was really cool about it, shrugging and stating, "Well, at least we both know how now!"  Super cool guy!  Faith in Humanity-- CHECK!

What good came of all of this?!  Ash and Russ stayed the day with us!  Ashlee must have noticed my twitching, manic eye and emotional instability.  Guess I'll keep that hunk of junk, just in case we want to hold other family members hostage when they come visit and just want to go home!  {Maniacal laugh}  BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!  (Someone call the looney bin)

DING!!!

HE IS DONE!!!

At 4:03pm yesterday, Caden rang the bell, alerting all in the Tri-Cities Cancer Center that he has completed his radiation therapy treatment!!!  They told him to hold the rope away from the bell, so that it could ring out loud, and strong, and clear.  DING!!!  Even if no one heard the bell, they heard the screams and cheers from those in attendance to congratulate him and wish him luck.  I would have cheered, but my emotions were stuck in my throat.  He did it!  We made it!  He's done!!

Watch out Summer, the Dirks' are ready to PLAY!!!

Gallery Glee

I know that we are being watched over and prayed for because, like I've said before, things have not been as difficult as I thought they'd be after The News.  There have been numerous times that I've been going along just fine and a thought will truly bring me to my knees, heart burning and beating out of control, gasps shallow and rapid, with tears that run until I'm sure I should have a wrinkled, pruny face.  But, one thing that has not slammed me is: depression.  I have seen and experienced some heinous things these last few years, things that would surely (and have) ignite depression, but I thought for sure that when we heard that we had run out of options that I'd tailspin into deep depression.  And, in all honesty, after the call on scan day where I cried so deep, so hard, and so long that I caused a pounding headache on more than one occasion, I thought for sure I would never recover.  But I have been OK.  Life is just going.  My mind is my own.  For now.

On a particularly rough day earlier this month, I made the decision to make my own happiness.  The house was clean, the laundry was done, the lawn had been mowed, and I was still feeling the tug of sadness, so I looked for any project to keep my mind off of depressing thoughts.  The project was one that I had been putting off for a number of reasons.  1) I am tired.  These last 7 months have been so jam-packed with insane, can't-make-this-up craziness, that I feel I have barely been keeping my head above water.  Not to mention how "eventful" our lives have been since he was flown to Seattle in January 2014.  Whether our lives have been filled with cancer care or we are living our magically mundane lives, we have lived each minute with purpose and immense gratitude, and that can be very exhausting sometimes.  2) It would need my creative mind engaged, and I had been too overwhelmed in many different circumstances to concentrate on just this one creative project.  3) I knew how I wanted this project to turn out, knowing I had placed a lot of emotional value on it, so I questioned if  I would have enough emotional reserve to be OK if it didn't come together easily.  It is my personality to want to do it perfectly the first time.  And I knew this would be something that was the "center" of our home forevermore: A family gallery wall on the main, most-seen wall in our home.

I am one that either gets immediate inspiration of where I'd put my own decorations, furniture, and housewares if it were my home (which is how I can unpack and decorate my entire home in less than a week), or I have to sit down and plan things out.  I knew this wall needed a family gallery wall the second I walked in the first time, and knowing how special and important it was going to be, I chose to take a few months looking at it, imagining it, and planning it out perfectly, so the wall stayed empty for four months.  But on this day, I rashly gathered my supplies and got started.  Because one thing that I know about myself: decorating makes me happy as I do it, as it comes together, and as I admire it time and time again when it is finished.

Along with all of the pictures that would hang on the wall, I also gathered painters' tape, scissors, and some Christmas wrapping paper that has a measuring grid on the back for more precise cutting.  I traced and cut out all picture templates, using the 1"x1" squares for the canvas prints I had ordered but didn't have yet.  Once I got that all cut out and ready, I thought I'd be done for the day.  I gathered everything into nice piles, put away the wrapping paper and scissors, and then sat looking at the wall...  and the wall just started to come together in my mind.  I grabbed my measuring tape, found the center of the wall, and just started taping the templates on the wall.  I knew what each was going to look like, so I just started grabbing them at random and going for it.  It took about 30 minutes, but when I sat down, I knew I had just done something that I was going to LOVE!

If I would have had the canvas prints, I would have immediately moved to hanging things that night (even though it was after 11:00pm by the time I got to this point), but I wasn't quite sure if the prints would measure exactly or be slightly bigger, so I waited.  It added to the excitement, actually.  I had something to look forward to in the future, and I was actually counting down days for something other than the end of radiation.  I was excited!  This project, at this very time, was exactly what I needed in my life.

And when I got the center picture- the most important one- put up less than five minutes after the mail arrived, I cried-- I knew it was going to turn out exactly how I wanted and envisioned.

Because Randy and I do almost all projects together, and because he loves helping my dreams come to reality and seeing my unfiltered joy, he offered to help me finish this project.  Because I had already measured everything out, Randy came up with a way that we could easily mark where to place the nails.  He taped a sharp screw at the hang-site, placed it up to my wrapping paper templates, I leveled the picture, and then he just lightly pressed the screw straight into the wall.  It worked out perfectly!

Our wall came together in less than an hour.

This is the wall that you see as you sit in our family room...

 As you walk down the stairs...

 As you walk in our front door...

 And as you come in from the garage.

It truly is the main, most central wall in our home.  And in the center of it all, the picture that all others were measured around, is the canvas print that will never change and forever be my main focus:

My beautiful family standing before a temple where families are made Eternal.  Sunny Wright, you have given me a treasure that will span all the rest of my days, and I thank you!  Centered below our Eternal Family is a plaque that reads, "Come What May And Love It."  Together, Forever, we plan to.

Sludge and Spit

Because we looked at this home during the snowy months, I hardly went into the yard whenever we were here.  In fact, I forgot almost up to the day that we moved in that the home came with a hot tub.  I barely went outside.  And when the inside is such a dream, the outside could be a dump and I'd still feel fortunate {shoulder shrug}.  From the back window, however, I could see that it had a pond.  I have never really cared one way or another about ponds, but I sure wasn't expecting the work that they make.  Well, work if you neglect it to the point that they we someone did.

Somewhere near the middle of June, I noticed that the pond was getting very green and disgusting.  I read up on it, finding a few tips that I immediately started looking for and doing.  Once the pond started to foam from one of the treatments, I was sure it was cleaning the water.  Nope.  The water turned red.  And then black.  We tried everything, but it didn't help.  Finally we emptied the pond and started a ton of work that we weren't prepared for or expecting to ever do.

The reflection of the trampoline net is distorting the picture a bit, but at the bottom of the pond was pure sludge.  Randy disabled the pump, making it so that when the pump was going, it shot into the ivy behind instead of down the waterfall.  We were both surprised to see what shot out of the pipe time and time again.

The pipe is shooting out from below the rock, with that brown/black sludge coming from our pond.  It shouldn't have been such a surprise, since the pond was truly black, but it surprised us that it took as long as it did before the water looked 'muddy' instead of 'sludgy.'  We would spray all portions of the pond until the water was high enough for the pump, and then we'd turn it on and immediately get this color.  Once the pond would empty below the pump line, we'd turn off the pump and do it all over again.  FIVE TIMES we did this, with the shooting water looking this black.  Once we got all of the dirt and debris from the above-pump portion of the pond (that seems much bigger when you are doing the work than when you are admiring it), we grabbed our rubber gloves and manually scooped out the disgusting, slippery, stinky toxic waste.

 This is a SMALL portion.

I wish I would have gotten a picture of the filter before it was cleaned off, but we were just trying to get things cleaned-- it stunk!  Let me just say, it took a lot of pressure washing for that filter to even look blue again.  It was actually hairy under the sludge!  And it was just a plastic box thing, nothing mesh or fabric to make it that difficult to clean.  I started the work at 10:30am, with Randy and Keilie joining me around 5:30pm, finishing the whole project at 7:30pm.  We took out about 2/3 of the rocks for cleaning and exact placement (I say 'we' because Keilie did a few of the rocks, but it was mostly my by-hand prep work for when Randy joined me later).  That was one thing I never thought I'd do-- I don't know how to place rocks to form beautiful ponds, and have never really had the desire to learn!  But I will say: we did a really great job, the pond is better than ever.  And the water has stayed see-through since Thursday.  Score!!  We've read up on pond care, so that it never gets this bad again.  I'm hoping that this was years' worth of neglect, and not just the four months that we have lived here.  I love the sound of the cascading water-- it really is worth the work we had to put in.  And the fact that I can type with sore fingers from all of the by-hand work and say that is really saying something.

That night, after cleaning up the tools, we all just kind of collapsed on our back patio with our new lights on.  I can't remember how it happened, but we decided to practice our 'spit takes.'

Tyson started us on it.  His was more like spit bubbles drooling out of his mouth.  After hearing us laugh and give pointers on how to do it right, Caden came out to show him how it's done.

 He was able to do it first try.  When he came back to look at the picture, we all laughed and laughed when he said, "It looks like I'm throwing up."

 Tyson tried it again, doing better than the first few tries, but not exact-- he still had a lot of drooling spit dribbling down his chin.

 Caden tried it again to see if he could make it look less like throwing up-- still perfect mist, much better stance.

I'm not sure why Keilie and Brennon didn't try, but Shelby tried only once.  It wasn't as easy as Caden made it look, though.  In fact, I was certain that I could do it first try, so when I totally messed it up, exactly like Tyson's first try, I was glad that no one caught my pride-slashing disgrace on camera.  I'm serious, it isn't as easy as you'd think.  Second time was much better. 

Spitting contests would be fun no matter what, but having Caden join us for competition, cheers,  and laughter felt like a dream.  Looking back, we see that it was the beginning of Caden's energy returning-- he's miraculously feeling better by day, enough for him to be able to attend all three hours of church yesterday and be out of his bed more and more.  And the food that that boy has been able to pack away.... our Caden is coming back to us!  Only two more treatments!!!  I think we'll take ourselves some water bottles tomorrow and do some spit takes as we leave the center.

You mean we are done with all 17 treatments?!?!  {SPIT}  Goodbye!

Cans

The kids have been asking for ways to earn money this summer.  Since we are pretty limited on some things, mostly staying close to home and the radiation center, we had to think of something that could be done within our town, pretty close to home.  This was my idea: "No need to even leave the home!  No need to face the blistering heat of summer, I will find jobs around the house, such as: blinds cleaning, scrubbing grout with a toothbrush, that sort of thing."  This was Randy's idea: ask the neighbors if they would save their cans and plastic bottles for us to recycle in Oregon when Randy travels for work.  Which one won the hearts of the kids?

While I was showing them all the fun gadgets for cleaning different things around the home (I was legit with a cool microfiber thingy that you clamp down on each 2" slat of wood on the blinds!!) Randy was setting up a spreadsheet for the neighbors' name, address, and phone number, complete with clipboard and black plastic bags for them to handout for easy storage and collection.  I admit, Randy's idea won by a landslide.  No surprise there, I married a Salesman after all.

It seems that we produced some Salesman of our own.  This was after just one week and only two "clients."  They made $30.00!  So, here's the catch: Apparently you should not expect the Dirks' kids to wait for conventional business hours.  Unbeknownst to us, Shelby and Tyson went to gather cans on their first Monday pick-up at... wait for it... wait for it... 7:00am.  Oh, wow, Randy was NOT happy. 

"DID THEY COME TO THE DOOR IN THEIR PAJAMAS?!?!?!"

Tyson, giggling:  "Yes!"  He did not understand that this was not a joke.  We have since talked with them about 1) leaving the house without our knowledge and 2) waiting until at least 8:30am.  Possibly, some of the "client" didn't answer the door because they were SLEEPING!  That got their attention-- they will now wait until later in the day to collect.  Like me, their most productive time of the week is Monday morning, after our day of rest on Sunday.  Well, productive after 8:00am anyway.

For me?

Last week, I got a gift certificate from Jamie to go and get a Spa Pedicure.  She had just gotten one (also a gift given from a friend) and could not say enough how wonderful it was, and that she was super excited for me to experience it.  I made the appointment and got it yesterday.  It was beyond wonderful!  In addition to a normal pedicure, it came with an extra bonus of aromatherapy bath salts, sugar scrub, foot mask, and lotion.  There were four choices, but I knew before even smelling any of them that I was going to choose the Citrus, even before I knew it was the Energy choice (which I would have chosen if she didn't offer to allow me to smell them).  The second she opened the first packet and the scent hit my olfactory, I knew I was going to seriously enjoy the pedicure more than any other I'd had.

I called Jamie on my way home, thanking her and telling her I'd take a picture to show her the different design the woman had done on my toes.  Because my feet were still a bit lotioned up, and because my sandals are a flat surface, the second I stepped from my car, my feet slipped and I scuffed my left big toe.  Honestly, my pedicure was perfection for less than 15 minutes!  ARGH!  Oh well, I am still quite overjoyed with the whole experience.

And as you can see from the scuffed tips of each of my sandals, I may not be the most talented walker in the world anyway.  All flat surfaces challenge me daily.  The polish was doomed from the get-go.

I was surprised to hear that the woman pampering my toes was actually a pathologist for many years.  Just as I was interested to hear how she went from one career to another, she was interested to hear about Caden.  She knew right away that Caden's cancer is rare, including how even more rare Caden's case is from other UESL patients as the conversation progressed.  As we were talking, she asked what I do for me: "meditation, yoga, reading, napping, ie."  As I was naming a few from her list, I also added one of my own, one that you wouldn't really think would be a coping/relaxing mechanism: cleaning.

As the weeks have passed from the news that should have stopped the world, and Caden has slipped farther and farther into un-well, I have found more and more contentment in cleaning things around the house.  It's more of a surface clean, not deep clean with toothbrush put to grout or anything, but it makes me feel SO good as I make my home more organized and clean.  I don't think, I know it is because I feel in control of that one aspect of my life.  As I walk around my home, my haven, seeing things that are not in their proper placement, I find myself feeling lighter and lighter as I put things away.  The space was dirty, I cleaned it myself, now my home is right again, I feel happy.  I emptied that laundry basket.  I cleaned out that sink full of dishes.  I made those carpet lines.  I cleaned off those toothpaste spots on those mirrors.  I am in control of my home.

"And it makes you feel normal."  She understands.  Nothing is normal with our summer.  Nothing is normal knowing that my son is dying.  Nothing is normal seeing Caden so sick, hoping that it will actually give him a good quality of life in the extra time we are hoping for with this radiation.  Nothing is normal as we sit around the table for dinner, with Caden laying on his bed, plate close to his face.  Nothing is normal while I vacuum around Caden's bed and wheelchair in the front room, the first thing you see when you enter our home.  Nothing is normal as thoughts pop into my head about getting ready for obituaries, eulogies, coffins, headstones, and cemetery plots.  The only normal thing in my life is that I clean, organize, and decorate my home while planning and doing things with my kids.  That is my "job," the "career" I chose and aspired to as a child.  I am a wife and mother in control of her home.  And, as of this very second, that is enough.  Who knew that getting my feet pampered could also be good for my soul? 

Better Than...

We came home one hour too soon!  We heard that the Lights could be seen at Midnight and we came home at 11:00pm, in bed by 11:30pm.  Oh well, when has not getting what we wanted and hoped for ever stopped us from having fun together?

Dr. Jones was concerned at yesterday's appointment.  The nurse put the blood pressure cuff on his wrist and had him put it to his heart, like normal, but the reading was very low.  I told Caden to sit up, but the nurse said that doesn't matter.  I wanted to counter: "Well, for the last three and a half years that we have been in cancer care, we've had to wake Caden to roll over so that the readings were more accurate. There has never been a time it hasn't risen."  So, instead of the new-technology gadget, she used the regular cuff and stethoscope.  Weird how sitting up raised his pressure, don'tcha think?  She gave a little "hm" and didn't look me in the eye again.

The pressure may have risen, but his beats per minute were still severely slow.  In fact, when she tried to count them while touching his wrist, she could barely feel them.  So she got another gadget for a third reading.  Still slow and weak.  Dr. Jones said that it may be caused by the break-through pain medications that he's needed the last two days (new pain, new place, email out to Sue now to see if the tumors we know about could be the cause, or if it is possible that it is new growth), or it may be that he needs IV fluids.  Caden was adamant that he wouldn't go to the hospital for fluids-- he said he'd just drink more electrolytes himself.  Dr. Jones didn't press it, but he did tell me all symptoms to watch out for, saying it wasn't medically necessary to send him, but that we couldn't just get away with only water intake any longer.  So we bought 12 Gatorades and got started before we made it home.  I think the only reason he didn't press it too much was:

"Caden, what do you plan to do after this appointment."

(Slight exaggerated pause, not rude, just incredulous) "Lay in my bed."  Because this radiation is taking everything out of him.  He is freaking tired, not really able to be upright for more than a few minutes.  Even his head is too heavy after just minutes upright sometimes.  There should be a medical term for radiation fatigue.  Nothing seems to fit the magnitude of just how tired/exhausted/drained/fatigued it can make you.  Epic feels too minimal, even.

The steroid helped stop the out-of-control weight loss, but he still lost a bit.  He lost 6 pounds the week before and only 2 this week.  I expected him to maintain, since he's eaten considerably more this last week than the week before, so it was discouraging, but not a major blow.  With the slow heart rate, the weight loss was a non-issue.  We'll stay the course with all medications at this time.  Including the fast-acting break-through medications that he's been needing more and more the last few days.  I hate cancer pain.  My gosh, it scares me to think that Caden may never go another day of his life without some form of Morphine.  I hate cancer so much, it hurts.

Me: "I can't wait for this end.  Only 6 more treatments and then you can start to feel better!"
Caden:  "Yeah, but it's still better than chemo."

My Caden, teaching me again.  If he can still look on the bright side, I guess I can too. 

Northern Lights

The Tri-City Herald wrote that "Sunday night should be a good time to watch for the Northern Lights above the Tri-Cities.  Weather service data shows the Tri-Cities is at the south edge of a band across Washington state and southern Canada where people are most likely to see an aurora borealis Sunday night and early Monday morning."  So we went in search of Northern Lights!

Poor quality photos, because we went when it was dark, obviously, but you can see our excitement.  We never saw the Lights, but we had a good time star gazing and hoping together.  One day our Lights will come!

Approved Updates

During the Front Door Debacle, we found out that address numbers didn't fall under their "need to get approval before we accomplish the work" covenants.  Because our numbers were severely sun-bleached, I started looking for numbers whenever we were at Home Depot.  They must not order their address numbers often, because they were ALWAYS missing the 7!  While returning from Kennewick Friday night after the most amazing Indian Food Ever, we passed by a Home Depot, and quickly decided to just stop in to see if they had a 7-- they did!  So, after four months, I finally have numbers that you can really see from the street!

 Isn't it so weird that the lighting on the above and below pictures make our home look like three different colors?  Weird!  Randy has been filling the stucco holes, cracks, and damage, which we will need to paint someday, so I am really looking forward to a not-peach color!  Anyway, I love my new numbers.  If we get in trouble for them, I swear the HOA and I will have words. 

(Don't mind the tree stump... it has a chemical on it to help it disintegrate.  That project will be done before the end of summer.  Otherwise, we will be in trouble with our HOA.)

While there, I happened to walk past an isle that had clearance outdoor items.  When I saw the price of these lights, I gasped-- they were more than 50% off and had enough for us to do the project I have been dreaming of since seeing the beautiful pergola.  Even better, Randy said, "Let's Do It!"  I may or may not have skipped to checkout. 

 It turned out exactly how I had dreamed.  It seriously looks so romantic when you are under them, so soft and pretty.  I am really looking forward to getting a dining set and an outdoor couch set some day.  It will be a while, since the couches we have inside are pretty much shredded (bought them on mega clearance- $399 for the couch, loveseat, and chair!- four years ago, they are in a bad way!), not to mention the front room that doesn't have any seating at all, so we may need to get those couches first.  Maybe.  These lights need to be adored properly, am I right?!

This home was my dream home before, but with each little project, it becomes even more so!  I had a dream before waking one morning last week-- we moved into an apartment just three and a half months after moving into this home.  I literally woke with tears on my cheeks.  It will take a stick of dynamite to get me out of this house.

Wonder

One of my favorite summers in memory was the summer that I read Summer of the Monkeys to my kids.  We read together daily, eventually getting to the point where the kids had me take the book wherever we went, reading in the wait-times of whatever we were doing.  I'd read books to my kids before, but there was something in that book that made it stand out from other books I've read to my kids: sorrow.  The books I tend to read to my kids are fun- loving, funny books where all is alright throughout the book and ending.  The plot has twists and turns, but never anything that brings true feelings of emotion that my kids could possibly relate to.  My favorites of the many, many we have read together were the Junie B. Jones series-- I laughed so hard at those books!  But that summer, I read one that was a fun adventure, but that had sorrow and real-life morals in the story that got my kids thinking.  We cried together that summer, grateful for our family and love, feeling the connecting bond that shared experiences bring.  The feeling of that summer is etched in my memories with reverence.

Because so much of our summer has been spent at home this year, I've had time to read many different books.  We all have, actually.  I think I have been nudged and lead to find the ones I have-- I have read some GREAT reads recently.  One of which is Wonder by R. J. Palacio.  I blazed through it in one day, soaking it all in, reveling in the feelings and emotions that it brought me.  Feelings that aren't tainted by cancer in any way.  While Randy, Caden, and Keilie were playing a quick x-box game between older and younger kids' bedtimes, I was finishing up my book, crying with 100% joy at the end.  I knew right then and there that I'd found another memorable summer book, something that I hope will overshadow the summer emotions that we all expected to have after "the news."

The book is split into four parts, with the end of the first part being the most heart-wrenching of all parts.  We finished the first part today.  As I finished, we sat there together in our cozy family room, thinking.  And I witnessed the most beautiful thing: my kids imagined themselves in similar settings and experienced the emotion of empathy.  We had a discussion about what we'd read, talking over one another about ways that they could be more kind to others, reach out more, and develop attributes of being more compassionate and kind.  My heart filled with such love for these human beings that have been entrusted to me.  Our family room felt so small at that moment.  Not because of the walls, but because of the love that filled all available space.

We have three parts left, with the last one bringing cheers and tears for the amazing story that makes you ponder and look both inward and outward-- Inward to see how you can be a better person, and outward for those that need you.  I can't wait to finish it together, and then see the movie together in November.  I love that we are word-deep in another Read-a-thon Summer.  We are making a great summer!  

Privilege

Today was a GOOD day.  From the moment Caden woke, I knew he was feeling much better.  He was walking more upright, out of his bed more, off of the couch more, eating everything in sight, and joking with the kids.  At one point, he was even playful with Mira, having her chase him around and scaring her with his quick turnabouts.  It was a great day.  He said his pain feels a whole heck of a lot less, which I know must be that steroid that Dr. Jones prescribed.  He told us it would be a fast reaction, so we knew it wouldn't take a week, but two days feels amazing, a pleasant surprise.  I'll take whatever we can get.

One of the "side effects" of him feeling better is that he's doing more for himself.  Instead of him asking for me to bring him something to eat, he's the one looking through the fridge and pantry.  It felt almost weird not doing so much for him today.  I love that he can be independent, do more of his regular activities, but I also love serving my loved ones when they need me.  It reminded me of an exert from an inspirational book I just read:  I Sit all Amazed: The Extraordinary Power of a Mother's Love by Steve Mikita.  If you are looking for a quick, GOOD read, this is the book for you.

"No one should ever underestimate the profound power of a mother's love.  Not ever.  In her presence:

I felt loved.
I felt appreciated.
I felt nurtured.
I felt adored.
I felt safe.
I felt secure.

She set both the standard and the rhythm of my life.  It was she who taught me to believe there is a purpose in trials.  She helped me to interpret the meaning of the good times and the bad.  Surely, there would be both.  Life was not compromised of only victories and triumphs.  We would suffer setback and losses.  We would laugh together and cry together.  We would grieve and celebrate.  My mother made up for that which I lacked.

She did it all, and without a single complaint.  She did it gladly and cheerfully.  I was never made to feel that I was a burden.  Rather, I was her son, and she viewed the service she gave to me as a gift and a privilege."

We don't share the same story, her and I, but I feel like I can relate to her on a deep, bonding level.  Motherhood is work.  Motherhood is stress.  Motherhood is tiring.  But, it is a gift and a privilege for which I will be eternally grateful.  I will gladly and cheerfully serve them all the days of my life.  Motherhood is magnificent.

Calming

We meet with Dr. Jones every Monday, directly after his treatment.  Most of the time it is simply to go over symptoms and side effects, but today we were able to get some worries calmed.

Because his pain began almost the moment we were done with the first treatment, and because he's been in constant pain ever since, I found my mind worrying many times over the last week that it is not working, that we are going to find out that it will never work, and that we may even need to end radiation this week and simply move straight to the "make him comfortable until the end" stage of our care.  After all, things have been going faster and faster in that direction since November anyway, why should this be any different than anything else we have tried? 

"The moment the beam hits the cancer, it starts to kill it.  Because of this, the body naturally sends white blood cells to the affected area, causing the area to swell with inflammation, which is most likely the cause of the pain, not the tumor itself.  Unfortunately, we can't predict how long this swelling will last; it is different for every person and cancer.  Out of the thousands of patients I have seen, there are only.......two?... that have been resistant to radiation.  As long as the beam is shot at the cancer, it will kill it.  It's because the rest of the body can't handle more radiation that we don't use it for an extended period of time.

Also, we do scans before each treatment, so we can see that they are not growing.  If we had seen any growth, we would have stopped before now.  The tumors have not grown.  They are not the cause of the pain."

We didn't even have to ask, he just provided this information when Caden said he's been in constant pain since beginning radiation.  I felt myself relax ever-so slightly.  I don't think I will be anxiety free until he's done with radiation on July 25th, but I do feel slightly less manic knowing that this is truly expected to stop the growth of the tumors, possibly even shrink them, and kill the cancer cells that were rapidly multiplying undetected in those four tumor areas.

I also understand about the white blood cells/inflammation gathering around the tumors-- after all, it was the inflammation around the first recurrence tumor in his lungs July 2015.  Without that inflammation, they wouldn't have even been able to see the actual cancer at that time, allowing it to grow another three months.  I can't even think about a massive tumor in his lungs-- it scares me to even think on it for a second.

And, like all cancer fights, Caden's weight was an issue today-- he lost 6 pounds this week.  It was us that was calming some worries when we told Dr. Jones that Caden may be eating less than normal right now, but he's eating more than other times he's fought for his life.  We'll encourage him to eat more throughout the day, but from what we've been through before, he's doing OK.  Not great, obviously, but OK.  Radiation causes nausea itself, but when it is administered as close to the stomach as his is, you're going to have more-- that's just the way it is.  Super glad they didn't spring a Nutritionist on us today!

Caden actually felt well enough to go to the pool tonight.  He didn't do anything but stand in the pool, but even that felt like a dream.  As soon as he said he wanted to go, it felt like we were racing to get there, scared that he'd stop feeling well the second we got into the car.  I almost told the kids that they didn't even need their suits, that they could just jump into the pool in their clothes, if that meant we got there quicker.  It was wonderful to be out of the house as a family.  My gosh, I love us! 

Thank you for your continued prayers!! 

Stripes vs. Orange

Caden got a family video game that has electronic Monopoly.  We have become somewhat addicted to the game this last week.  Not only does it have fun interactive graphics and eliminate the need for a banker, but it is much, much faster than the original board game.  It is only the last 10-15 minutes that you wish the game 'would just end already,' instead of the last 3/4 of the game.

While no longer able to play because I was the first to go Bankrupt, I had an epiphany, of sorts.  Tyson was getting ready to "roll" his dice and chanting, "I hope I go to jail, I hope I go to jail," when the family erupted into cheers when he actually did go to jail, Randy even going so far as to say, "Good Job, Tyson!" as he was jumping up and down, graphic ship sailing merrily down the stream towards prison.

Epiphany:

Want well behaved children that only sometimes embarrass you in broadcast-church settings with strategically placed bunny ears and windmill-hand slaps shared between siblings?  Encourage and congratulate your children in their aspirations of jail time.  It's as simple as that.

You're welcome.

Side note: Tyson won the game.

Tramp

We have all heard stories of children that go to a friends' home for a sleepover, but right before the child falls asleep, hours after they normally would have gone to bed, they change their mind and want to go home.  This story is exactly like that, only it is the Mom that changes her mind when the kids are ready to go to bed.

Trying to remember all of my favorite memories of my own childhood to suggest Caden try, I remembered how fun it was to sleep out on the tramp.  Oh my goodness, when we suggested that the kids sleep out that night, you'd have thought we were telling them we were leaving for Disneyland the next morning-- they got their sleeping bags ready, asking if they could go to bed early.  I was all for it, excited that they were excited, until it was bedtime.  Truly, I hadn't thought much on the subject after suggesting it to them, but when it came time for them to really head out there, I started getting major anxiety.  I had thoughts of someone walking past our home, hearing our kids giggling (let's be honest, arguing and fighting) on the tramp, and then sneaking back later to snatch them.  My mind is very imaginative when it comes to horrors and dilemmas that my kids can/most likely will encounter.  By the time that Keilie went out for her later than the younger kids bedtime, I was sure I was the stupidest woman in the world for suggesting something so ridiculous and dangerous.

After about ten minutes, Keilie came in, saying she didn't want to sleep out there-- it was "really uncomfortable."  I could not imagine Shelby, Brennon, and Tyson sleeping out there all by themselves, so I told her she didn't have a choice, her word is her bond, it was an unbreakable vow, she figuratively pinkie swore.  Wow, you would have thought we took the Disneyland trip away from her, last minute-- the teenage angst came roaring out of her, hands flailing like she was going to punch holes through the walls.  She slammed the door as she went out, but I felt myself calm down just a little bit: if Keilie was out there to be their protector, it wouldn't be that bad, right?

Once the house was quiet (even though you could hear arguing and laughter from the backyard), my anxieties propelled me to blaze through the home to clean.  Vacuuming and mopping at 10:00pm is not as much of a chore when you have major anxiety.  Randy finally begged me to either come to bed or come to pray so he could go to bed, so I put down my cleaning supplies and went into our room.  While I was praying (cause I knew it would take six sleeping pills to stop worrying so much about my kids on the tramp) Keilie must have sneaked back in, because after the prayer, I went back out to finish up my chores and I did not see her come in.  Tyson came in to pee at 11:00pm, then asked if it would be alright if he went to sleep in his room.  Oh, how I wished that all of the other kids would change their minds and come in to their comfortable beds.  At Midnight, when the sleep aid finally started to kick in, I went to check on the kids out back-- Keilie was not there.  I went to her room to check on her (I knew she would be in her bed, but I just had to check-- stupid anxieties), thought about shaking/scaring her awake and demanding that she go back out to the tramp, but ultimately grabbed my own pillow and headed out to begrudgingly reenact one of my favorite childhood memories.  Oh yes, my friends, I, Stephanie (Ann) Burrell Dirks, 36- year old wife and mother of five, slept out on the tramp with the kids. 

And by "slept," I mean: closed my eyes for a few measly seconds between multiple sleep-talk, rolling, and kicking sessions from Shelby and Brennon all.night.long.  Well, Midnight to 5:00am, when I zombie-crawled into the comfort of my sheets and pillow top mattress to really sleep for a few blissful hours.  After it was discovered that it was me, not Keilie on the tramp in the morning, Shelby excitedly asked if we could do it again.


"NO.  Um, no.  That's a big N-O!  Shelby, I love you so much, but I will never, ever do that again.  Not even if you paid me a million bucks.  Now please go roll up my sleeping bag.  Thanks!"

Miracle Mira-- Super Dog!

{Disclaimer}: I know it will be very difficult to look past the color of the walls in the upcoming photo, but try.  We haven't gotten them painted yet, unfortunately.  Other things to do...

Independence day was kind of a hard day.  Because of Caden's fatigue and weakness, he asked us to see if we could borrow the wheelchair from our friends again, and if we could bring his bed downstairs.  The sorrow I felt for Caden made his mattress feel six times heavier than it really is.  It felt too soon for us to have to to it, yet we were grateful to be able to accommodate his needs.  More of that cancer confusion.  Howard had the wheelchair here within a few hours.  In fact, he was willing to leave his granddaughter's birthday party to get it to us immediately, if we needed.  Blessed in our friendships, I tell you.

This picture was taken yesterday, after radiation.  Caden has been in constant pain for a week now.  Enough pain for him to ask to start around-the-clock pain medications-- the good stuff.  Once the pain started, it came with a vengeance.  I also want to document that Dr. Jones said that the scans, while not diagnostic quality but still clear enough to see because of the "skin" that Caden's tumors always have, did not show any significant growth between the initial scan we took on June 22nd, to his start date of June 29th.  Which means that Caden very well should have/could have had pain the entire time.  Another confirmation that Heavenly Father answered our prayers for Caden to be able to attend Trek.

They asked us what time of day would work best for us to set up all of our appointments.  Since we are all pretty productive most mornings, Caden and I both said "mornings."  When they returned with our extended schedule, they apologized because all of their mornings were full-- his treatment times- all 17 of them- are at 3:45.  Honestly, this has been a tender mercy.  For hours after each treatment, he feels horrible.  He lays around, feeling like he has an extreme stomach bug (don't forget the constant pain), and then the fatigue slams him, and he's out for the rest of the night (unless the pain wakes him).  If we would have gotten our choice, he would feel horrible all day, with hours and hours ahead of him until bedtime and the quiet house that brings.

Back to the picture, the reason for my post:  Directly next to Caden's bent legs is Caden's Miracle.  Truly, she is the best thing that has ever happened for Caden.  For all of us, really.  She has not left his side at all.  Even as I type, she's lying next to him while he naps (at 10:00am), while the kids play games in the next room.  She makes him happier.  She makes his trial feel just a bit lighter.  So many times I've walked by his "room" to find him sleeping with his hand resting on her, and my heart fills with love and gratitude for the blessing she is in our lives.  We could not believe our good fortune when they called us, saying they had a Golden Retriever.  We were waiting for the moment when we realized it wasn't going to work as he was watching her play and saying we wanted her, like it was all just too good to be true, like it was some cruel joke being played on the beaten, wounded parents.  It was SO MUCH FUN surprising Caden with her, telling her she was his dog and seeing him cry uncontrollably.  It was EVEN BETTER when Randy surprised us all by bringing her home days before we were told we could.  But, we never could have imagined how perfect and wonderful and amazing she would be for our family.  She may be known as Caden's Miracle, but she is really The Dirks Miracle.  She will be revered for the rest of her life for what she has done for my babies.

We love being home.  We love being together.  We love this time.  But it is also hard.  Really hard.  Because he doesn't feel well, we haven't really left the house.  He wants to be with us, we want to be with him.  But the kids are not as used to witnessing his suffering as Randy and I.  It has been hard for them.  It has been hard for us to watch everyone's suffering.  If Randy and I get out of the house, even to simply go to the pharmacy to pick up Caden's pain medications, we always feel this mixture of relief to finally be away from the pain, yet urgency to return home to him.  We can't escape it.  His pain and suffering fill the entire house.  Our other kids' suffering and confusion with the whole thing cause the pressure to explode the windows and flow freely, like lava, down the sides of our home.   Our kids miss their friends and summer freedoms, but they want to spend time with Caden.  Caden misses everything, even saying last night that he was "bored being so sick and tired," then staggers back to his bed.  And, because of the extended schedule, we still have 18 more days before we can expect Caden to start feeling better.  That feels like an eternity.  Ten eternities.  We are bored with video games.  We are bored with all movies.  We are bored on our couches.  We are bored in our home.  But there is nothing else we can do, because he feels so sick.  And there is nowhere else we want to be than together.  We are grateful to be home, but we hate being home.  There are moments of light, when we are all laughing and playing and getting along, but there seems to be more darkness as the days go on.  I know this will end.  I know that one day I will look back on these days with love and gratitude, without truly remembering the immense physical and emotion pain, but, right now, as we live it, it feels heavy and suffocating.  And I have no idea how to make it better but to just keep breathing when we are blessed enough to come up for air.

Moon

It will come as no surprise that we took another child to the Express Care for an ear infection.  This time, it was our Tyson.

He'd been complaining of his ear for a few days.  He described it one time almost like he'd hit his ear a few hours before, so I thought it must just be sore.  The next day he made it sound like it was sunburned, and since we'd gone boating the two days prior, I just passed it off.  He hit it while boating and got a little too much sun-- it could happen.  By the third day, he was explaining it more like an infection.  After having him do a few things that we normally do to "diagnose" an ear infection before we pay the co-pay, I was doubting if that was what it really was.  Then inspiration struck-- I had him plug his nose and try to blow air out of it.  As soon as he did, he screamed bloody murder.  I knew it was an infection.  Co-pay, here we come.

While in there, he was singing and happy.  He'd counted down through dinner till his appointment time, feeling relief knowing he'd get medicine to help him soon.  It's funny, cause they asked if he had a fever and watched him as he sang and looked normal, totally thinking that we were wasting our time and co-pay.  So many times, this has happened, if not all.  My kids are happy, singing kids that don't have a fever-- look in their ears, and boom, double ear infection.  The doctors are always surprised.  Same result here-- inner and outer ear infection.  Sinus/allergies, plus boating.  Awesome!

While the doctor was typing notes and getting our prescription electronically sent off, she asked Tyson if he had plans for summer.  Without a single thought, and with his absolute serious face, "Yep.  I'm flying to the moon."  This made her pause.  It made us all pause.  Randy looked at me, "I guess you're taking him, cause this is the first I've heard of it."

Tyson: "No, she's not.  I can fly myself.  I am Superman."  And then he struck the Superman pose and flashed his signature silly smile.  Honestly, if I didn't know any better, I'd say he rehearsed this interaction!  SO ADORABLE!!!  Guess I better get him a pair of black glasses, to keep up his hidden identity.  Oh, and wash his cape.

And then came another Signature Tyson:

Doctor:  "Is he allergic to anything?"
Tyson:  "Yes.  I'm allergic to cuteness."  And then he literally did a {cough, cough, smile}.

I'm fairly certain he became her most favorite patient of all time right then.

Ugly Tree

From the first minute I saw the house and knew I wanted it as my own, I wanted to cut down the ugly tree with it's bazillion needles that perpetually kept my front porch and walkway dirty.  I mentioned it as we were walking up the front walk the day we were showing the kids.  Caden: "If we do, I want to do it!"  Fast-forward to June 5th when I sent in the very detailed, written and colored request to our HOA.  July 4th we got the OK (after seeing many old men slowly walk by our home, even taking pictures.  These people are intense!).  July 5th, Caden grabbed his hatchet.  I totally understand that the tree needed more than a hatchet, but it made me sad to see Caden take only five swings and then need to rest for more than an hour.  The next few pictures may look like there were in quick secession, but it was an all-day thing, dependent on Caden and his depleted strength and stamina.  He really is so weak and tired.  We will do anything and everything this boy wants!

 I love seeing them work side-by-side, but it makes me sad knowing that the reason Randy is right there with Caden is because he was too weak to hold the saw, but wanted to cut this tree down!  Caden's determination is astounding.  Stupid cancer.

 He finally told Randy that he didn't have enough strength to hold the saw, but that he could hold the strap.  Randy rushed this part so that Caden could finally just lay down.  Randy and I later talked about how difficult it is to see him like this.  He wants to live normally, but he really is just a shadow of what he used to be.  Radiation is just like chemo-- he feels pretty sick most of each day.

 We've gotten the trunk cut to the ground now, but I couldn't wait to do my before-and-afters. I will never, ever regret this project, and I will cherish the memories forever.  We still have a lot of work to get this space finished (including some serious root ball removal from this and other tree stumps we've found after removing the rock) but I am in love with the progress.  I wonder if the old men walk by now and think, "Maybe it shouldn't have taken us an entire month to allow this!"

Collateral Beauty

We watched a show the other night that looked really good with all of the big-name actors, but ended up being too soon after our news: Collateral Beauty.  I now wish I would have looked at more than just the big names and PG-13 rating to judge whether it was a good rent from the Redbox.

Will Smith's character loses his daughter to cancer and is stuck in his immense grief.  I confess, I didn't really understand what Collateral Beauty even meant, so I Googled it.  From the many, many people that put in their two-cents, I think I understand it just a little better.  Here are a few opinions, since I needed more than one to kind of understand.

~It can refer to the hidden beauty in something that can't be seen directly.
~The term could also be used to describe the meaning behind something.  For example, when something bad happens to a person, they might want to check for the 'collateral beauty' or hidden meaning behind the event, which could be a beautiful thing.
~The words could be used to refer to the bright side of something.  During an unfortunate event, a person could look for the 'collateral beauty,' or the bright side of the situation.
~Could refer to the good hidden meaning behind a serious tragedy.

While we haven't experienced number '10' on our emotional pain scale yet, we have come closer than any parent should have to get with their child.  In truth, I would categorize this portion of our Love Story as a 'serious tragedy.'  But that's just me.  While I do not believe there is a 'hidden meaning behind our serious tragedy' (I know we came to this earth to experience all we can, I believe Heavenly Father has a plan for all of us),  I have tried very hard many times to look for the beauty, or good, or bright side of our trial.  Many times over the course of this journey, I have been able to find {it}.  Other times, it is much, much harder.  Honestly, it may take a lifetime to see the beauty in these next three circumstances-- circumstances that I know we'll have more of.

*A few weeks ago, Caden and Keilie chose not to go to the swimming pool at 1:00pm like we always do.  As I was driving the three littles, I played music from my phone.  One of the songs that came on was Photograph by Ed Sheeran.  This has been a favorite song of mine since the first time I heard it.

"...Loving can heal, Loving can mend your soul.  And it's the only thing that I know.  I swear it will get easier, remember that with every piece of ya, and it's the only thing we take with us when we die.  We keep this love in this photograph, we made these memories for ourselves, where our eyes are never closing, hearts were never broken, time's forever frozen still..."

Brennon: "What's the matter, Tyson?"
Tyson:  Through gut-wrenching gasps of breath, "I...don't want...Caden...to...die."
I carried my Tyson into the pool, his head resting on my shoulder, wet cheek to wet cheek.

*Just a few days before Caden left for Trek, I was driving Shelby home from a Space Camp she attended days after school let out.  She was telling me all that she'd learned and done that day, when she kind of stopped talking mid-sentence.

Me:  "I'm listening, Shelby."
Shelby:  "It's going to be hard coming home, knowing Caden won't be there anymore.  It's going to be hard not seeing him."
And then we were both crying hard in the car.

*I can't remember what we were talking about, but something is going to happen or come out in four years.  (It's hard to realize that the story seemed so earth-shattering that I never thought I'd forget it, yet I can't remember particulars just hours later.)

Tyson:  "Yeah, but Caden isn't even going to be here in four years!"
And then he discreetly wiped his eyes, since Caden was nearby.  Caden didn't hear the exchange, but he noticed Tyson's demeanor change.  I'm fairly certain he knew the cause.

It has hit us all at random times, sometimes when we least expect it: our Caden is dying.  I haven't had much communication from Caden, Keilie, or Brennon on the subject, but I know that I will, at some point.  Maybe someday I will think back on this time filled with grief and sorrow and see the 'collateral beauty,' but right now, it all feels so heinous.  And our grief hasn't even hit a '10' yet!

Comfort

One of the many things that I love about our lives in Richland, why I know that we were lead to the rental home that placed us in the Hillview Ward: the friendships we have made.  Honestly, it was no surprise that remaining in the ward was the only stipulation our kids gave when we needed to start looking for a new home in January.  We have been richly blessed in our associations here in Richland.

Yesterday, after church, I was approached by a friend whose daughter has been considering asking Caden on a date.  I confess, this was one of those things that I was sad thinking Caden might never experience.  Washington law states that once he gets his actual license, he cannot drive with anyone, except immediate family, for six months.  This greatly lowers his chances of being able to drive himself and another couple anywhere.  Couple that with radiation side effects and stupid cancer, and you have pretty slim chances of normal teenage activities involving a boy asking a girl to bowling and dinner (my first date, actually, almost twenty years ago).  Since the pain had been intensifying over the space of the last few days, even by the hour, I asked if they could hold off making major plans until we knew how a full week of radiation would make him feel.  We have been told that the radiation would help with the pain (because it was killing the cells and making the tumors shrink is their reasoning) but Caden always tends to be on the "unique" side, so I just don't know how he will feel.  We all agreed to talk more within the coming days.  I was over the moon driving home from church, daydreaming of my Caden going on a real date.  A few hours later, I got a text from another mother, asking for almost the exact same thing for her own daughter!

I realize that it was the daughters that approached their mothers, wondering if they thought it would be alright to ask him.  I understand that adding cancer into the mix of dating makes for a very "unique" situation that involves more than just asking and driving.  I don't know how to approach some situations in all of this, I can't imagine trying to approach this as one of his peers.  Both of these mothers reached out to me, wondering if Caden would feel up to it.  Both understood that I would want to witness him experiencing this rite of passage.  Both wanted to help their daughters navigate this confusing and unique dating scenario.  

While trying to turn my mind off for sleep, a thought came into my head about these two mothers, and so many, many more that have supported us since January 31, 2014:

...as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another's burdens, that they may be light; Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in...  {Mosiah 18: 8-9}

Things have felt a little off with the on-set of pain.  Seeing Caden lay around more than even sit has been difficult.  New pains have started, too: he cannot lay on his right side, or it will send shooting, stabbing pain through him (liver tumor), and he cannot yawn deep, for the same pain reasons.  Stupid Cancer.  But, because of these two mothers, their daughters, and countless others that have done SO MANY THINGS, we do not feel alone in our mourning.  There is not much that we physically need right now, but we do need prayer.  There is not much that anyone can physically do right now, but we do need emotional support.  There is not much that can be said, but we do need encouraging words of love.   For those that have offered prayer, fasting, encouragement, support, help, thoughts, love, good vibes, gifts, friendships, followed our story, or even come to love us without knowing us personally, I thank you.  My heart has felt just a bit more heavy and emotional lately, but it has not felt crushed.  Truly, my burden has felt lighter because of the encircling love of so many.  Not easy, by any means, but lighter than I ever could imagine any of this being.

Stay Tuned: The Boy in the Bed Goes on a Date may be a novella to our Love Story very soon! 

Day 2

I feel so fortunate to have so many great doctors at my disposal.  Caden's appointment yesterday did not have him nauseous, but the tumor pain reared its ugly head.  Big Time!  Not only was he feeling the pain/pressure/pulling at the belt line that he started to feel a few weeks ago, which became pretty intense last night after weeks of reprieve, but he also started to feel the radiating pain in his shoulder, which is the tumor that he's got inside his liver pressing on his diaphragm.  This is actually the pain that he knows well, this radiating tumor pain.  It's also the pain that we've been expecting, and kind of waiting for, but wishing he never had to get.  As soon as I heard that the pain intensified (let alone started last night at all) I sent an email out to Sue, asking if it was normal for it to happen this way after just two treatments.  But, not only Sue, I sent out a text to Caden's Primary Care Physician, who happens to be one of our religious leaders, and has also had radiation himself just a few years ago.  Sue got back to me within five minutes with an email; Dr. Burrup got back to me within two minute with a personal phone call.  Both said the same thing, but also had different reasons as to why it was happening now.

1) They both agreed that the radiation was not the cause.   Especially after just two treatments.

But where they had differing reasons...

2)
Sue--  Radiating pain is from the liver lesion.  It is a nerve thing.  AND he's probably wiped out from camp {Trek}.  Has he taken an Oxy?

Dr. Burrup--  He believes that many prayers were said and answered for Caden to be able to go on Trek.  The pain was held off for him to be able to go, and how blessed that it had for so long.  I have heard from many people that Caden was in the thick of everything out there in the wilderness.  Not only did he volunteer to help many times with the handcart, but he helped put up and take down tents, and volunteered for many things without complaint.  Typical Caden, always willing to help others, even when most would shy away, even beg not to help.  Not only did he walk those 18 miles in extreme weather circumstances, but he worked as hard, if not harder, than others more "physically" able.  All while those {explicit} tumors are robbing him of vital nutrients and stealing our time.  My son amazes me, and many around him, with his strength and determination.  So, yes, he was wiped out from Trek, but the truth is, we truly were blessed to have this pain held off for so long.  We were stunned he wasn't feeling it when they did the scans on June 7th!  23 days later, that's when the pain became unbearable enough to take some pretty extreme pain medications.  Both were correct in the assessment: He was wiped out and we were supremely blessed.

For the first time in a long time, Caden slept in longer than anyone in our family.  Even that gives me mixed emotions.  I hate radiation, but we need it.  I hate that he's so tired, but love that he can finally sleep in later than Satan's Hour 5:30am.  I hate that reality is tainting things a little bit, but I'm grateful that we get more time with him.  STUPID CANCER!!!!!