HEALTH UPDATE

I was supposed to start round two of my chemo pill (Temodar) on Monday; however, results from labwork I had done last week show my platelet level is low. They will recheck this Friday and go from there. We're also still working on getting my meds adjusted after my flurry of seizures during round one of temodar. High doses of anti-seizure meds and steroids are not good for anyone - just ask Kevin. I've been on steroids since the middle of March, and he's still married to me! ;) I think we're finally headed in the right direction, though.

Where did she go?

I'm SO tired of not recognizing the person staring back at me in the mirror.  ='(

TOXICITY [tok-sis-i-tee] noun - the quality, relative degree, or specific degree of being toxic or poisonous: to determine the toxicity of arsenic.

My drug stash

Fighting brokenness.

Empty words.

   -Kept promises.

"It's nice to meet you."

   -Honest mistake. 

Mountains of laundry.

   -Working washer.
Sheer exhaustion.
   -Physical ability to move.
30 lbs.
   -Could be 50.  
Moon face.
    -Can still reflect the Son even in the darkness.

My moon face, buffalo hump, and 30 extra pounds (Cushing's syndrome) all courtesy of dexamethasone.

What I miss about driving...
MY FREEDOM.
Going places by myself.
No pressure of drivers waiting on me to finish my errands.
Running to the store just to wander around.
Taking the boys anywhere.
Leaving the house to check the mail.
Planning and spending time with friends.
Being able to satisfy a craving. Glazed donut from The Village Bake Shop, anyone?
Circling the block just to hear the end of a great song.
Getting the boys out of the house when we need a break from a rough day.
Late night runs to the grocery store.
Having control of the wheel.
Driving to work.
Being able to commit to events/activities. (Hard to do when you know it requires finding a ride.)
Planning family fun time.
Trips to Chick-fil-A just for a sweet tea.
Almost everything.

Someday we'll meet again...  :)

Redefining a Grateful Heart:
My boys love me bald or not. Moon face or not. 30 pounds heavier or not.
I have two legs that function properly and allow me to walk to the store.
I live close enough to the store that I can walk there if I need something.
I have family and friends who step up when I ask for help.
I have family and friends who help even when I don't ask.
I am alive.
I am loved.

A Minor Delay

Here is the facebook post I wrote following my doctor's appointment in Nashville on May 16th. Just a little late, I'd say.  =/  Sorry, guys.

I've been up since 5:20am, but would probably be hunted down if I didn't post an update before going to bed. My scan today did not show any major changes in the size of the tumor. (Slightly smaller by millimeters, if any.) There is still some swelling and inflammation, which the doctor said was normal. Good news, though... the area of the tumor that enhanced with contrast has lessened. This area was the biggest concern among the doctors. I start a higher dose of Temodar (chemotherapy pill) soon, which will be taken 5 days/month for the next 6 months. Dr. Moots wants me to return to Nashville every two months for follow-up scans. Road trip, anyone? :)


And in other news...
I am tired. physically. mentally. emotionally. etc. This journey is hard.

Philippians 4:13 (NKJV)

¹³ I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Your prayers are much appreciated.  Also, please say a special prayer for Kevin and our boys. They have been so patient with this steroid-crazed wife/momma. (Not that I can blame all my irritability on the prescription meds...) Two and a half months is a long time to be drugged up, and we still have a few weeks to go. I said it the other night at our Life Group, and I will repeat it here, "Kevin deserves some kind of reward for putting up with me these last few weeks."

I am truly blessed.

A Life Lived Now

It was five months ago today we walked out of a hotel in Nashville at dark-thirty in the morning and started a drive that would seem to take hours and yet was over entirely too soon. Mom had been with us for almost a month already, and Dad flew up the day before. Grandpa and Grandma Tucker also drove up from Florida to join us on this uncertain journey. I was having brain surgery.

Shower. Seizure meds with only a sip of water. No lotion, makeup, or nail polish. Having the last-minute conversations that are uncomfortable, but necessary. It was a quiet morning filled with small talk to help the time pass, but mostly filled with prayer and reflection. We stood together in the lobby of the hospital one last time before they took me back, and we placed our trust in a God who already knew how the day would unfold.

 

My journey with an unresectable brain tumor continues to be completely unpredictable. So it seems appropriate that today - exactly five months after surgery, I will head to Erlanger for my final radiation treatment. 30-0!

Another scan is scheduled for the morning of May 16th in Nashville. Then Kevin and I will meet with Dr. Moots the same afternoon to discuss the results. I will most likely continue taking Temodar (chemo pill) for another six months, but aside from that, I have no idea what happens next. And that's okay. I will work hard to enjoy each day to the fullest, because none of us is guaranteed tomorrow.