Bella is home.

What a great day this is. Bella has been thru a bunch of tests and they all came back great. She is just an 'overly sleepy baby', but fine otherwise. So we are happy for them.
Ken is well too. He is a little tired, but has been working very hard this week. But all in all, feels pretty strong. He is able to do more every day. We are looking forward to tomorrow. This time tomorrow, we will be playing with Norah, or watching her sleep. At any rate, we will be enjoying Chicago. So excited. We leave Friday afternoon. There are banquets both Sat night and Sun night. The race for Team In Training is Sunday morning. We are anxious to meet everyone. They have been extremely supportive. Then the closing banquet is Sunday night. We will be home Monday night. We are going to play with Norah all day Monday. We just can't wait to see her. I'll take lots of pictures of the race, Ken and Mark, and Norah and Katy. Will be a picture weekend, so we'll keep you posted.
Have a great weekend. Hope all goes well at work since they are letting me off. Thank you for that, John. I'm thrilled to be going to Chicago.
Ken's next chemo will be Sept. 8th. He still needs your prayers. We need these last two chemo rounds to work on that little spot left in Ken. We pray that the cancer is wiped out and Ken is in remission. We go to the Doc on Sept. 28th for the final test. It is going to be really tough to wait that long.
So until then, we are staying busy. Love to you all, Bev

Thinking of Bella Claire

How does it happen that when you get used to something so much you start taking it for granted? For example, when you learn how to drive, you learn to use your signal when you turn. You sit up straight and watch the traffic. You check your mirrors each time and wear your seatbelt. Then as you get older and used to driving you start eating and driving at the same time, a drink at first but then a taco and move up to a burger. You start talking on the cell phone and driving, you forget your seatbelt or your turn signal. I was going to write about my medicine regimen being sort of like that. When I first started off, I would diligently take all of my medicine at the right times. I would wear my mask in public when I was nutrapenic. I would eat all the right foods at the right time. I was going to write that as time has gone on, I have forgotten to take medicine (which I have paid for dearly), I get embarrassed to wear my mask in public even though it is good for me, and I forget and have ice or produce when I'm nutrapenic, or spicy foods after chemo. I had thought of how the car and medicine were similar until last night.
I have a nephew and his wife, Ben and Mary, who just had their first born child, Bella Claire. They have their own blog at http://thebrownfamilyof3.blogspot.com. It was exciting for nine months waiting for Bella to make an appearance. The pregnancy pictures, the baby showers, getting the room ready. All very exciting. Then the big day arrives and Bella makes her entry into the world and everyone is very happy! Something about a newborn reminds us all about how wonderful life is. Life is the way it is supposed to be. Last night, they had to take Bella into the hospital. She is sleeping to much and they don't know why. All of the sudden I could remember when my oldest daughter Katy had a fever so high you could cook an egg on her. I remember being a first time parent and hearing they were going to do a spinal tap on Katy and we weren't allowed to hold her hand because she would scream too much. I remember sitting in her hospital room with her mother all night long until the fever broke. The news of Bella going into the hospital brought all that back. Life was going good and you take it for granted because that is the way it is supposed to be, then something happens to jolt you back into reality. The good thing is that Katy turned out to be just fine, and I pray that the same thing will happen for Bella. For fifty years, I lived life. I had started taking shortcuts though, became wrapped up in my own thoughts and feelings, not paying as much attention to those around me. Basically, not adjusting my mirrors, not wearing my seatbelt or using my turn signals in life. Then I got diagnosed with lymphoma. A jolt of reality. I have learned all over again just how precious life really is, what really matters, how you should really spend your time, how precious your spouse, family and friends really are. When I was in the hospital, couldn't breathe and just found out I have cancer, I set my goal to dance at my newborn first granddaughter's (Norah Grace) wedding. With your prayers and the love of God, I honestly feel I will be able to do that now. This morning, a new goal of mine is to make sure I do for others as you have done for me. I want to be invited to Bella Claire's wedding. Let those around you know you love and care for them. Life is short - life is so precious!

Good Morning, Happy Tuesday

Hi All, I added the Team In Training picture that Ken was talking about in his previous blog. If you click on the picture it will come up large so you can see it. Our Mark is in the back row, with the great smile, just above the O in of. This surprised us. We had no idea Mark's team has so many members. It is great to see who is supporting Ken from Chicago. We can't wait till the weekend when we get to meet everyone. And we get to see Norah. 4 more days...

Team in Training

One week to go then I get to meet the Team In Training people that have been so nice and supportive of me in Chicago. Mark, our son in law, started with TNT last year as a way to get in shape and raise money for a good cause. Bev and I donated because of the cause and to support Mark. My how things can change in a year. Now TNT has been supporting me with nice cards and a great picture that says they are thinking of me and spelling out my name. How amazing is it in this day and age that people will get together to raise money for a cause and support each other emotionally through all of the events that occur in one's life when cancer strikes. I am touched by an earlier comment from a team member who wrote on my blog about her dealing with a parents cancer. Bev didn't know it but I listened the other night as she listened to a recording of a young woman who struggled and lost her fight. It sometimes seems so scary that what you have inside you can kill you and you don't even really feel it. What I feel is the chemo and medicine and the related hospital and doctor visits that tell you that you are sick. But the cancer is deadly quite. Without support from friends, family, well wishers, I would have gone crazy. Praise God that we live in such a great country with such good people. We have medical people that are working hard to find cures no matter how elusive or how much red tape they have to go through. I can't pretend to know everything about TNT, but I do know that the team is amazing for what they are doing. They are thinking of me, when in reality I and all people with cancer are thinking of them and all of the good works they are doing. I am so proud of Mark and what he is accomplishing. I am 52 and had donated to cancer causes before in life. I can say I honestly never had been touched on a personal basis through a family member or friend who had cancer. Now that I am part of that select group, I have grown a whole new appreciation for all who share the title cancer survivor. It's amazing when life steps up and slaps you on the side of your head and shows you a whole new world. If I am correct, Mark says that this week he starts to rest a little before the big event this next weekend. I on the other hand am getting prepared to come and cheer on all the TNT group who without even knowing me mean so much to me. Regardless of the reason they participate, they are all heros in my book. How do you repay a hero? God bless all of our heros, and God bless you for your support.

Fever, that's new.

This is so tough. Ken is having a bad night. I wonder why it is always worse at night. I have been swamped at work, so he went to Denver alone to get his shot today, day 2 of his 7th chemo. He didn't make it all the way home before getting sick. He managed to eat dinner, but lost it a few minutes later. Then he was able to take his meds and he has at least kept them down. But at 10:00, he had the chills and a fever of 100.0. It is midnight and now his fever is 100.2. I am suppose to call the doc of it reaches 100.5. This is scary. It's the first time he has had a fever. I am suppose to take his temp at least twice a day. We aren't diligent about taking it that often, but he hasn't ever been above 98.6. He is usually lower. I am hoping that the 100.0 was just because he was getting so violently sick. And the next reading was because he had chills and was all wrapped in blankets. I can't wait till 12:30 to take it again. I pray that Ken is ok and can calm down and have a peaceful rest of his night. I doubt I will sleep again, to worried about him.
I just watched this video of a child that passed away this month. She is the daughter of a 'team in training' teammate of our son-in-law, Mark. Touching video. Cancer is so not fair. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBA_x6CO_BA
Ken has had the hiccups off and on today. As I sit here and watch him, they get quieter as he is almost asleep. Then he wakes up and they are really loud again. Such a sorry side effect. He is sleeping in the recliner again tonight. Laying flat isn't easy when he is nauseated. It reminds me of all those weeks that he slept in the recliner when his lungs were filling up. He didn't lay down for about 7 weeks. Most of the time he couldn't even recline it, he just slept sitting up. We have come so far in his recovery. We were so close to it being a complete recovery. It is hard to see him go thru this for a tiny tumor the size of your little finger tip.
When he was getting his shot today, a male nurse that Ken and I have gotten to know, explained the bone marrow transplant procedure to Ken. He came home and told me all about it. We are praying even harder for the cancer to go away with the next rounds of chemo. The bone marrow transplant sounds so dangerous and life changing. I didn't know that the donor has to be a bone marrow match, but can have a completely different blood type. Ken says you might go into the operation with a blood type A and come out with a B. You take on the blood type of your donor. Weird. I would suggest to all of you that you get your bone marrow registered with the national bone marrow association. Ken and I registered ours 15 years ago while we lived in Denver. I got a call a few years ago that I might be a match. I had to go in for complete blood tests, but it turned out I wasn't quite close enough, so I wasn't able to donate. But I would in a second if I thought it would save some one's life. I was glad to know that the system still has me as a possible donor.
So now it is past 12:30 and I should take Ken's temp again. But he just fell asleep. I can only tell because of no hiccups and mild snoring. It is completely dark except for my computer screen. I don't have the heart to wake him. I think I'll wait an hour. Guess I'll go watch an Oprah recording that I have not yet been able to watch. I actually have over 100 Oprah shows saved. Didn't get to watch many while Ken was sick, so I have some catching up to do. This is called midnight rambling. I should be sleeping. Thanks for being there to keep me company and let me vent. This blog has been very therapeutic. Much better than doing laundry at midnight. Hope you are all resting well.
I just snuck in and took Ken's temp. It is 99.4 now. Still higher than it has ever been, so something is going on, but maybe a good nights sleep will take care of it. At least it is under 100. Guess I'll try to get a few hours sleep. Oprah will just have to wait.
God Bless You for caring about and praying for Ken and me. We love you, Bev

Different now

It feels so different this time around. I have been sitting here now for a couple of hours getting chemo and the whole experience has seemed different than any previous time. First, because this is a busy week for Bev at work, I drove myself to Denver alone. The clinic where I get my blood draw was very busy. Usually you can walk right up to the counter to check in, or maybe wait behind one person, but today there were six or seven in front of me, so it took a while. After waiting, a great nurse named Audrey pulled my blood and sent me on my way. I checked in at the infusion center then had to wait a little more than an hour past my appointment time to be called in. So instead of getting started around 10:15 like I thought, I was actually hooked up and ready to roll by noon. Different also was the fact we had already taken out my pic line so they have to poke my arm instead for blood draws and chemo. Then I brought with me some bills and such to work on. One was for over $13500 that I was told I owed to PVH in Fort Collins. After calling my insurance company, they said most of this was a billing error. Very different indeed. Before I left, I heard our niece Mary had her water break, and that the doctor would probably induce contractions. A great day to have a baby!
My how your mind can change your outlook on things. Last week I was saddened when I first heard that I was going to have to continue treatment. Then I decided I have had enough. It is what it is, but I am not letting this rule me anymore. Hence, everything feels different this time around. A good friend of mine, Bob, told me Friday of his experience. He is about a year ahead of me in experience. Not with the same type of cancer, but cancer none the less. Whining is okay for a little bit, but then you have to get over it. Life goes on. Everything is different now, good or not so good, I plan on living life to the fullest. Thanks to Lisa, Carol Ann, Ken, Linda and others who gave me nice words of encouragement Friday. And especially my kids who told me to hang in there. Maybe the chemo will work this time, everything is different.
It's a great day for all the babies being born! It's a great day to be alive!

Counting chickens

How do the sayings go; it's not over till it's over, don't count your chickens before they hatch, don't count you're money while you're still sitting at the table, don't celebrate before the last out. For a week, we have been looking forward to seeing Dr. Myint to get news that I might be in remission. He even said to have the champagne on ice. Sometimes when you want something so bad, you lose sight of reality and all of the possibilities of what is real. Then when reality steps up and slaps you on the side of the head, you say whoa! this isn't what I was expecting. I had some friends that were having a baby and were for sure that they were having a boy. They bought boy stuff, decorated for a boy, etc. Then, as you can guess, they wound up having a beautiful baby girl. I remember when I was young and thought I had money in the bank. I found out differently when I used an ATM and my card was captured due to lack of funds. The things you learn growing up, life's lessons. Yet I still wind up doing the same thing, hoping for the best, not expecting the worst. Is that optimism? Wishful thinking? Stupidity?
Wednesday, my wonderful wife gathered friends from work and surprised me when she had them all gather in a meeting room. She read a wonderful note that almost brought me to tears. She entitled it "You're a lucky man". She reminded me of the time I had a motorcycle accident and split my helmet in two yet survived with only a broken arm and damaged leg; the time I slid my car on ice under a semi truck in the mountains and only wound up with a broken nose even though the car was totaled. She reminded me how lucky I was to have her, a wonderful family and the friends that were there surrounding me. Then she gave me a wonderful gift in advance of remission of my cancer. I even told my friends we are scheduling a remission party in September.
Well, you can tell where I am going by now. Reality brought us back to earth Thursday. I had my scan, and the results were not what we were expecting or had hoped for. Dr. Myint was even disappointed and surprised. Seems there is still a node located by my lower back that is not responding to treatment. Everywhere else, things looked good. My spleen, which I didn't even know was a concern to him earlier, had cleared up, and all other nodes and organs were listed as "unremarkable". Meaning that was a good thing, there were no remarks to make about them. One node however, noticed the previous time, was still about 1.1 cm x 1.
7 cm and still active. The color ratio had diminished some from 3.7 to 3.4 but still glowed, which means there is still cancer. Dr. Myint explained that these cells are probably follicular cells and sleeping now, not multiplying. Chemo only works on active cells that are in the growth cycle. So since these are not multiplying yet, the previous chemo treatments have not found them. He suggested that I resume chemo treatments for two more rounds. Only eight rounds total of RCHOP can be given to anyone, and I have already had six. O course, I asked him what happens if that doesn't do it. I looked him in the eye and could tell it would be an answer I might not want to hear. "I will leave it alone and wait and see what happens." Because of the location to vital organs, he does not feel radiation is a good option. Surgery to remove it would be risky as well due to the small size of the node and the location. What he suggests is to wait and see if it restarts to grow, then he would perform a bone marrow transplant.
When I had my surgery to fix my lung and start chemo on Easter at U of C hospital, I was up on the cancer ward. At the end of the hall were two sets of automatic doors with large waring signs posted on them. If you passed through one set of doors you had to wait until that set closed before you went through the next set. This was designed to let the air cleaners purify the air for the next set of rooms, the bone marrow transplant rooms. This area was basically off limits as all of the patients were trying to cope with having no immune system whatsoever. Risky to say the least. When they preformed a bone marrow biopsy on me, I must admit it hurt somewhat. I have heard transplants are worse.
It has been a few hours now since I heard the reality of my situation, and I am still learning to cope with it. I have to take two more rounds of chemo which may or may not clear the cancer. If not, I wait until it starts to spread again, then have a bone marrow transplant. Seems like a ticking time bomb has been discovered inside me, and I can't do anything about it until it goes off.
Bev made an interesting comment to me while we were looking at some pamphlets about cancer. I told her it was amazing that I thought I was almost done and I didn't really know much about what I had, or what it was really all about. People in the waiting room could tell you from memory what medicines they take and for what, what their blood counts were and why, and on and on. I can't begin to say any of that. Bev told me I have been in denial. I buried myself in my work and just fought this to get it over with then move on. That really hit home. Of all of the stuff I have learned, I really don't know anything about what I have. I just wanted it to be over. Like my surgery, I thought the chemo would do the trick and I would go back to living a "normal" life. What a wake up call. I felt just like when I first learned of my condition back in March. I have cancer. It doesn't play by the rules.
My emotions have been all over the place. I was sad I couldn't pop the champagne. I was mad I would have to go back to chemo and get sick again. And now I don't have my pic line and they will have to needle me through my veins. I was disappointed I celebrated with friends before I knew the outcome of my test. I felt stupid for planning for remission before I knew I was in remission. And most of all I felt scared because I could see in the doctors eyes that this is not what he had hoped would happen, that the future all of the sudden was not as bright as hoped for.
Now that I have slept on it for a few hours, I have had a change in feeling. I do still feel lucky. I am still alive. I can work, play, talk and share with family and friends and still live life. Who am I to complain? I have seen those far worse off than I. I have cancer. But it doesn't have me. I am a survivor. I am a lucky man!
Thank you for your continued prayers and support!

We're done, we wait!

Well, it is day 13 of round 6. Ken's last round of chemo. He has finished his last week of hiccups. They actually weren't to bad this round. They stopped in 4 days. He did have a strange 3 days at the end of week 1 where he had a metallic taste in his mouth and he smelled the chemo drugs. He hated that. Couldn't get rid of the taste. I told him it was because his cancer was gone and the chemo in him had no where to run. Smells and tastes are so linked to memories. That was hard for him. He has finished his low count week. He can now go back to eating fresh fruit, salad and he can have ice again. Ice machines can have bacteria in them. You and I can handle that, but Ken's immune system couldn't, so it was ice-tea without ice. He is happy to be back to normal. Or getting there at least. He has been working hard in the yard, trying to catch up from a summer of not being able to lift anything. Oh yeah, HE GOT HIS PICK LINE OUT. No more 5 lb weight limit. He has been moving rock in the yard. Poor guy though. He sweats and it runs down into his eyes. He says now he knows what eyebrows are for. I'm getting him a sweat band today.
I'm just happy he can help carry in the groceries again. So we are at the end of week 2. No we are just waiting for the pet scan to see what the results show. We go to Denver on next Thursday, the 13th. Ken's scan will be in the morning, at 8:30. He has to drink this bad tasting stuff that will light up any cancer that remains in his lymphnodes. Hopefully, no lighting up will occur and Ken will be in complete remission. We have to wait till our appointment at 3:50 with Dr. Myint to get the results. Usually at that time of day, Dr. Myint's office is really behind. I hope they don't make us wait to long. We are ready to celebrate.
Ken wants to take something to the staff at the University Hospital cancer center that has helped Ken get thru this. So here is what we are doing. It is corny, but so like Ken and me. We are making baskets to give to the staff that will say 'Thank you for helping Dr. Myint take care of Ken". The baskets will be filled with everything mint, mint oreos, Jr. mints, mint teas, peppermint patties, three musketeers mint. We found all kinds of mint stuff. Then for the doctors, Dr. Myint that STOPPED Ken's cancer and Dr. Wyant that STOPPED Ken's leak, we are taking them a bottle of wine with a wine STOPPER attached. I know. Isn't it just to corny. I hope they aren't reading Ken's blog. I would hate to ruin that cool surprise. LOL.
Please keep praying for Ken. We only have 5 days to wait to see if our prayers have been answered. We are expecting a complete recovery. Thank you and Bless you for supporting us.