The Race...

... To surgery!

This journey has been a marathon and a sprint depending on the day, the phase, the view. Overall it is a marathon, but we are in that phase where you are sprinting, hopefully towards the finish line. 

Today Alan began radiation down at the Med Center! As for how he's tolerating it, it's way too soon to tell. The calendar rapidly changed as appointments started populating on MyChart last week. Anyone who has ever been a patient or caregiver with MDA can attest, it can be a whirlwind and overwhelming as they start scheduling things. Even having walked this journey for just shy of 6 years, last week's flurry of dings of more and more appointments caught me off guard. 

Tomorrow we are down there together to handle a check in with his radiation oncologist, radiation and then the consultation with the peritoneal surgeon. The last one is the one I dread. Surgeons are different from what we've dealt with so far. They seem to be more worst case minded and doom and gloom. Oncologists (or at least ours) seem to be super optimistic and rainbows, hearts and flowers! Okay maybe not as overtly fluffy as I make it sound. But you definitely see and feel the difference. 

The rest of the week is "just" daily radiation until his MRI on Saturday. Next week is fairly full with appointments Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday. Then a weekend of rest prior to the big day! 

Sitting here in my war room, I am wondering why I am posting. I think it's more about me working out my feelings. Emotions are a great passenger, but they aren't allowed to drive is a quote I love but have probably said too much lately. I still don't think I've even begun to process my emotions since the scan results. I've been in manager mode. Heck in some ways, I've been living in that mode since February's scans. And definitely since March 7th when the results of his biopsy came in. 

I'm scared, like down to my bones, scared. I know all the spiritual things. I know God's in control. And He works all things together for good. I know He's a good, kind, loving, gracious God. And not only do I know these things, I believe them. Like deep, deep belief in them. I've written in the past how God is big enough for us to yell, scream and be mad at Him. He gets you right where you are. No matter what your circumstances. 

So please don't preach to me in response to this post. I promise my relationship with God is still good because He's meeting me exactly where I am. 

And that is scared, isolated, hurt, angry, impatient, grateful and hopeful all in one.

I am scared of the impacts of surgery. I am scared for his recovery. I am scared for what "normal" looks like after the surgery - not that we've known normal since Jan 30, 2017 - but even with cancer, you settle into a cancer version of normal. I am scared that surgery won't get it all. I am scared the trial will take too long to start. I am scared the trial won't work. I am scared I will lose my husband. 

I am isolated. I am the parent they get angry at because they don't want to get angry at him. I am isolated because there isn't really anyone that has walked our specific journey. I am isolated because of not feeling like I can truly share all the challenges with very many. I am generally an open book, and I feel like I must protect the three of them keep some things only to me. 

I am hurt and angry that we are STILL fighting this long battle! I am also grateful and hopeful that we are STILL fighting this long battle! I am hurt and angry that my children are scarred by cancer. I am hurt and angry that I am scarred by cancer. I am hurt and angry that my already surgery scarred husband has to go through another more difficult surgery. I am hurt and angry that the most incredibly awesome man of Faith is still fighting this battle.

I am impatient for his healing, for his miracle.

I am grateful and hopeful for the new trial. I am grateful and hopeful for surgery. I am grateful and hopeful for all God is doing around us. I am grateful Alan is younger and in good health (except for that pesky cancer thing). I am hopeful because he is younger and in good health. I am grateful for some of the most world class doctors! And for the most INCREDIBLE medical facility right here in Houston! I am hopeful that those amazing brains at the awesome facility are able to heal Alan. I am grateful that my children have a deeper appreciation for their faith, others' trauma and for their self-awareness. I am hopeful that my children will grow into amazing, empathic adults with an incredible passion for whatever they do with their lives. I am hopeful my children will love deeper and appreciate every moment God gives us on this earth.

Lord, thank you for being a God of the details, a God of the emotions, and a God of TRUTH. Lord, thank you for going before us in the coming weeks and for carrying us through it. Lord, thank you for being right here with me through my fear, isolation, hurt, anger, impatience, gratitude and hope. Lord, be with our girls. Lord, heal Alan. Lord, thank you again for loving us each exactly where we are!

- Mel