Friday, June 29, 2012

News Articles

Willie and I each had articles written about us this week in our local newspaper. Both reporters did a fantastic job and we are honored that they found us interesting enough to write about!
Here are the articles:
  http://m.willows-journal.com/news/beavers-8593-people-health.html
And
http://m.willows-journal.com/sports/beavers-8588-life-through.html

Check them out!

Friday, June 22, 2012

Transplant Conversations

Our cute neighbor girls made these awesome cupcakes!
We liked them so much, I had to share!
I've been putting off writing this post for a few days because I wasn't sure what I was going to write.  We have been on a roller coaster of emotions this week and I have changed my opinion so many times at such an alarming rate, that I'm not even sure how to feel anymore. 
On Tuesday we went back to Enloe Hospital to meet with Dr. Lombardi.  He is the doctor that diagnosed Will's Leukemia and started us on this crazy journey.  We were actually looking forward to seeing him, which is funny, considering he is a doctor that one would hope they would never have to see.  We arrived at our appointment early and waited a while for the doctor to show up.  He finally entered the room at 1:50PM.  He still looks tired, but his classy blue shirt and red tie drew the eye away from his exhausted pallor.  He's had a hair cut since we last saw him and he now looks younger and even more worthy to be on the cover of a GQ magazine.
He sat on the exam table and  announced that he only had 10 minutes to meet with us.  I doubt there is never a time when he's not in a hurry, so we were happy to take any time he could give us.  He looked Will up and down.
"Looks like you came through it well!" he said, referring to the chemo.
Will caught him up on the treatment and detailed how easily he breezed through a treatment that puts most people down for months.  He finished by telling him how we got out of the hospital in mere 26 days when the shortest stay on record is 29 days.
"There you go again," he said with a laugh "setting more records!"
We've heard that before, but it isn't getting old yet!
The purpose of this visit with Dr. Lombardi was to find out if we could do Will's follow up chemo treatments in Chico which is 45 minutes from our house versus going to Stanford which is 3 hours away.  Lombardi told us that he thought they could do the treatments, but it would all depend on what drug the Stanford doctors choose and the dosing of the drug.  He opened Will's file and held out a bound stack of papers about 1 1/2 inches thick.
"I'll admit I haven't read through your history yet" he said, holding the stack up for us to see "but from what I've seen, they haven't decided on a dosing yet, so as soon as we know that we can let you know if we'll be able to do it here or not."
We forgave him for not reading the book that is Will's medical history.  That only represents a month of his care so I can't imagine what the files must look like on people who have been fighting cancer for longer.  Lombardi didn't seem to be bothered by the amount of text though.  He strikes me as the type that reads his patients medical histories in bed at night while snacking on a bag of potato chips.
The conversation turned toward bone marrow transplants and the air and the room grew tense.  It was not something Will or I were comfortable talking about.  The idea of a transplant has been on the table from the moment we entered the hospital.  They drew blood when we first entered with the intent of finding out more about Will's molecular structure and eligibility for a transplant.  We didn't hear anything more about it until the night before we were discharged.  That night the resident doctor told us that Will is a very good candidate for a transplant and as such, the team was thinking it would be best for him. 
We didn't like that.  It made no sense to us that just because he is a good candidate means he should undergo such a risky transplant.   We shared that with Lombardi and he offered some more education on the matter.  He explained that leukemia often comes back after treatment and each time it comes back, it is a bit harder to treat because the cancer cells that hang around become resistant to the chemo.  In Will's case, he has already received some of the strongest chemo drugs they have, so there is a big risk that if it comes back, the cells that survived these big guns will be untreatable.  In that case, there is little they can do.  With a transplant comes a better likelihood that these cancer cells will disappear and be replaced by healthy cells. 
This is what I needed to hear.  It hadn't been explained to us that treatment would be harder in case of relapse.  I have been working off the mentality that he will get through these maintenance treatments and we'll carry on with life as normal where he would be in remission forever. I'm learning that this was a naive way of thinking.
We left Lombardi's office with a new understanding that our journey is just beginning.  That month stay at Stanford was just a warm up for the long race we are about to run.  We were both feeling a little down, but Willie knew just how to fix it, we went to a movie!  It felt so good to do something so normal. 
Willie opened the door for me to enter the theater and his shirt sleeve moved up his arm, revealing his picc line sleeve.  The sleeve is made from mesh and you can easily see the cords of the picc line coming out of his skin.  I watched as a child noticed this on his arm and stared at Willie like he was some kind of alien.  He couldn't shake the eyes of this little guy as we bought our tickets and went into the theater.  I wondered for a moment what I would have thought, before embarking on this journey, if I saw a picc line hanging from the arm of a stranger.  Would I judge him?  Would I think he was sick because of some bad choices he had made in his life?  Would I not want to touch door handles after him for fear of compromising my own health?
If I have learned one thing in this trial it is that you can NEVER judge anyone by their circumstances. 
NEVER.
We saw "The Avengers" which was a fun, action packed, super hero movie.  We both left the theater feeling like we can take on the world with our super hero powers.  It was exactly what we needed.  We had dinner afterward at our favorite Chinese restaurant and everything felt normal.  Willie is getting color back in his face.  His hair continues to fall out, but with a hat on, he looks just like the guy I met years ago on the east coast.  I find myself having a lot of flashbacks lately and feeling nostalgic as I look at his clean shaven face and recall memories from the years before the beard.
When we started dating he had side burns, but no goatee or beard.  He didn't need facial hair to be intimidating.  I was secretly afraid of him while simultaneously feeling a strange attraction.  That was part of the draw I felt to him.  I had to know everything about this guy. 
I remember the night of our first date like it was yesterday.  He had groomed his sideburns into an sharp defined angle and his face was baby smooth after a fresh shave.  He smelled of soap and old spice deodorant, but no cologne.  This was a plus for me.  I had just got out of a relationship with a guy that wore far to much cologne. I had a headache every time I was with him and couldn't figure out why until months later when I was in a store and smelled his cologne.  I instantly got a headache and was glad that our relationship didn't work out. 
I was much happier with the scent of soap and deodorant.  We got in the company van and Will drove off into the Vermont back roads in a direction I had never been.  We rode the winding dirt roads for far longer than I was comfortable with.  We finally emerged into a quaint town with an old English flair to it.  He pulled up an Italian restaurant that seemed out of place in this New England town.  Italian music was piped through the restaurant and the only lighting was provided by candles set on every table.  The walls were painted to look like the Italian canals and the entire place smelled of garlic and wine.  This was a place to fall in love. 
It made me nervous. 
I reminded myself that I was only there to enjoy a "thank you" dinner that Willie insisted on taking me to after providing him with weeks of meals in his room while his knee injury healed.  I had no intention of falling in love with this guy. 
None.
Zip.
Zilch.
Not a chance!
But then there was the candlelight....
We sat across from eachother at a table that was so tiny, we were touching knees.  A long candle was stuck in an old wine bottle and I watched as the wax slowly dripped from the candle down the side of the bottle.  There were layers of old wax in ten different colors from candles that had long since burned themselves out.  How many other couples had celebrated their love over dinner with these candles?  I wondered.  What stories could those layers of melted wax tell?  I knew our candle wax would tell no story of love.  It could only speak of friends eating lasagna on a week night in the summer.
Will had lasagna.  It's funny I remember that, but I do.  I can't remember what I had for dinner last night, but somehow the lasagna he ate that night has reserved a special place in my memory.  It was cheesy lasagna and came in it's own fancy shaped dish.  We oohed and ahhed as it came out and Will said it was good.
"Do you mind if I have a beer?" he asked, as he shoveled a large bite of lasagna in his mouth.
I shrugged "I don't make your decisions for you." I said, but I desperately didn't want him to drink. 
He stared at me for an uncomfortable amount of time as he weighed out my response.  He then flagged the waitress and ordered a beer.
That moment changed our dinner from a date into a friendly hang out.  He was obviously not marriageable material if he drank!  I was actually relieved that I didn't need to try to be marriageable material myself and I relaxed for the rest of the night. 
When we got back to camp that night I was conflicted.  I had a great time with him and couldn't deny he was attractive, but he just wasn't for me.  That was easy for anyone to see.  But I couldn't shake my interest in this mysterious man. 
I now know that his mysterious nature is unshakable.  Here were are 6 years later and I'm still mystified by him!
Wednesday morning we drove down to Stanford.  The drive is about 3 hours one way and we got there around 1 PM.  Willie had labs drawn and had his picc line dressing changed, then we went to another area of the clinic to meet with the doctors.  Our appointment was at 3:15, but we didn't get called into to see the doctor until 4:15.  This is just another example of how we are improving our patience!
We met with our Rico Suave doctor who neither of us are fond of.  He didn't even show up with the team for the last few days we were in the hospital, and always seemed to be preoccupied with his appearance when he was there.  We know he's good at what he does, but the caring, human element is missing. 
He entered the room and flashed his movie star smile.  His earring appeared to be bigger and shinier than I remember, and his hair was gelled into gentle spikes.  He shook both of our hands and jumped right into business.
"We need to move forward with the transplant," He said, as if we had already made a decision to do it. "The best case will be to do it after your next round of chemo next month."
This was far too much information to spazz on us.  We just stared at him.
"Hang on," I finally said "We haven't even talked to the transplant team yet and know nothing about it.  And we were hoping to do his next chemo treatment in Chico."
He shook his head as if I was the most uneducated being he had ever encountered.  How he must stoop each day to talk to common folk!
He backed up and explained the coming steps for us.  We had previously been told that Willie would need chemo three times a week for a month.  That was wrong information and he informed us that he will actually need chemo three days a week, once a month, for four months.  He encouraged us to continue the treatments at Stanford since all of his care has been received there and we would be guaranteed to receive the right dosage and drugs where that can't be certain when dealing with multiple doctors and hospitals.
We agreed, and going to Stanford one week a month is not inconvenient.  He said Willie is scheduled to begin his next round on July 16th.  We are at a cross roads in his care right now.  One road takes us down the path of chemotherapy only treatment.  This plan involves receiving chemo treatments once a month for four months after which he will be declared in remission and we'll carry on with life.  The risk with this is that the research shows that most cases of leukemia return within a few years at which point his cells may be resistent to chemo and he'll be untreatable.  The only known "cure" for leukemia is a bone marrow transplant.  This involves replacing Will's marrow with healthy marrow from a donor.  This can only be done when Will is in remission which is why the doctors are pushing him to do it ASAP.  He will need to receive a round of chemo right before receiving a transplant to ensure that all cells, good and bad, are killed so the new cells can have a spotless environment to thrive in.
The transplant comes with heavy risks of the body rejecting the cells.  In this case, the body can attack itself and damage it's own organs and lead to death.  To reduce the risk of rejection, the patient has to be on immune suppressing drugs and live in isolation for months following the transplant.  The patient also has to stay within 30 minutes of the hospital for 100 days following the transplant.
This is the piece we hadn't heard yet and we both gasped when we heard this.  100 days!  We thought the one month we had to stay was bad, but they are telling us we will be gone for a good 3-4 months if we do the transplant!  We were both a little numb.  I tried to formulate thoughts and ideas after this, but my mind was racing as I tried to figure out how in the world we will be able to do that. 
We were still on the fence about transplant, but this doctor is very convincing and clearly is an expert.  I had been doing research on the categories of prognosis they put leukemia patients in.  We have never asked what Will's category is so I asked the doctor.
He told us that Will is in the low intermediate category.  My heart sank.  The research I had read stated that people in this category have 15-30% survival rate without getting a transplant.  It didn't made sense to us.  How is it that Will skated through the treatment and is doing so fantastically now, yet his is in the lower category? He explained that this is based on tests that were run on Will's cells at the molecular level along with extensive genetic research that was done on his DNA.  This is all beyond our capacity to understand, but I was glad to know how they choose their categories.  His reaction to the drugs have no relation to his molecular level, but this doesn't mean his strength and physical condition won't be a great benefit to his survival.
It was a lot of information to process.  Heavy information.  The kind of information that you think you understand until you leave the office and realize you are simply not educated enough to make such a weighty decision.  We are at a loss.  The obvious choice, and the one we have since made, is to go with the transplant.  We have a meeting with the transplant team next month to find out if his siblings are a donor match and we will also learn more about transplants.  Right now we are working off of the limited information we have received from doctors and the wonders of the Internet.  We are looking forward to learning more and seeing what the options are.
There was a dark cloud over us on our drive home.
"You're not going to die" I finally said, in the heavy silence that accompanied our drive "that's not an option and we aren't even going to entertain that idea.  You are going to be fine, we just need to do our research and trust that God will guide us in making the right decision."  He nodded and we drove for a while in silence. 
"We'll just do what we have to do." He finally said and the mood changed as he spoke this resolution.
We will do what we have to do.  It's a simple statement that holds the heaviest of implications.  We don't even know what it is that we have to do yet, but we still have complete faith that everything will work out. 
And it will.
In time.
...

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Today is Father's Day and we are so happy to be home for it.  It's crazy to think that just a few days ago we were sitting in a hospital room discussing what we would send in the mail to our Dads and today we go to give Will's Dad our gift in person!  It was the best day ever.  We have both been blessed with wonderful Fathers who are great examples of faith and endurance.  Will's Dad had lung cancer several years ago and had one whole lung and part of the remaining lung removed.  He manages to get around now with only part of one lung without any need for oxygen.  As you can see, the Beavers men are cut from steel.
Willie is doing fantastically.  He has been resting here at home and doing a few small things around the house.  Yesterday his Uncle, parents and sister came to lay brick down on a grassy area next to our garage that we've been meaning to get to for years.  It was above 100 degrees and I thought I was going to melt right into the patio when I went out to help them.  We say that Willie has become de-conditioned after laying for a month in a hospital bed, but I'm just as weak from sitting around!  They did an amazing job and it feels good to have it done.  We have received so much help with our yard that it actually looks better now than it ever did before Willie got sick!
Friday afternoon was the fundraiser for Willie down at our store.  His Dad and friends from the gym thought up the idea for a free ice cream day at which they would sell tee shirts and wrist bands to raise money.  The event was from 2PM-8PM and the turn out was amazing.  I went down around 3PM and was overwhelmed by the amount of people who came down to support us.  I was in awe of the generosity of the community members and their willingness to donate to us.  We are so blessed. 
Tammy has been working on a "surprise" down at the shop for quite a while.  I knew she was doing something and was very curious, but she was sworn to secrecy about her project. When we got home on Wednesday night she informed me that I was not allowed to go to my own shop until Friday.  I was actually a relieved to be banned from doing business because there were far more important things to take care of at home. 
I grew more curious as I waited the time out until I could go down there.  Friday afternoon came quickly though and I was soon pulling up to the back door of the shop.  Tammy came out into the alley looking like a kid on Christmas morning.  She was excited to unveil her project.  She pushed me toward the front door, but I was met by on onslaught of well wishers on the way. After some brief conversations we entered the shop and I gasped, in awe.  She had created a banner that spans the width of the shop that read "Strength for Willie."  A smaller banner of the same style is strung above the cash register that reads "Welcome Home."  The rest of the shop was covered in "Strength for Willie" signs, posters and pictures of support.  A long table was set up next to the register with tee shirts, bracelets and raffle tickets for sale.  She also made a poster for people to sign with our pictures on it. 
Anyone who knows Tammy, knows that she doesn't do anything half way.  This is something I admire about her.  For example, if we were having a family dinner and all we had was paper plates and plastic forks to work with, I would lay them out on the table in straight lines and call it good.  For me, symmetry is good enough.  Tammy, however, would wrap those plastic utensils in a piece of rustic ribbon that was free, but looks expensive, then she would create a centerpiece and place mats from foliage and transform our cheap utensils into something worthy of a centerfold in a Martha Stewart magazine.  She is that kind of creative.
The first time I experienced this was at our wedding reception. Will and I got married in Las Vegas at the top of the Stratosphere Tower.  It was a beautiful wedding, but nothing that I ever thought I would have.  I always planned on having a classic Utah wedding which consists of a small private ceremony and a HUGE reception in which everyone you know or have ever met is invited to come wish you well and eat cookies.  Utah receptions are funny events, but they are the only thing I knew growing up.  It is common to have 300 people come to a wedding reception.  If I remember right, my brother and his wife sent out something like 500 invitations to theirs!  I never really liked these receptions.  They were always overwhelming and impersonal, but it's all I knew.  When I came to California, I learned that there are other ways to have weddings.  It sounds silly to say, but I had no idea there was any other way to do it! 
We went to a wedding in California while we were dating and it opened my mind to a different options.  This wedding had a small group of family and friends in attendance and had a reception that followed immediately after.  This was a new format for me since Utah weddings usually have a break in between the wedding and reception and it's a much larger group that joins for the reception portion. This wedding also included A LOT of drinking.  I had never seen that in a Utah wedding!  They had dinner and dancing and cake cutting and it was a nice time.
When Will and I were planning our wedding we had to find a balance between these two worlds.  It was kind of amazing how everything ended up falling into place.  We wanted to find somewhere in between our two families and Vegas was the obvious choice.  We then called around to get available dates and the Stratosphere had a room available.  Thus, by default and by design, we ended up there.  We booked our wedding without even seeing the chapel.  We really trusted the venue to be as good as they said it was!
The day before our wedding we met with a coordinator at the Stratosphere.  She took us into the wedding chapel and we were both stunned at how amazing it was.  The room was done in a soft champagne color with white and gold accents and one half of the room was covered by windows that offered an breathtaking view of the strip.  I remember commenting on how lucky we were that it was actually good since we hadn't seen it.  The coordinator was shocked that we hadn't seen any photos of the room before booking and said we should have received a package with photos, but that had never arrived.  It didn't matter so much to us, we were just happy to get married.   The room that was fancier than we imagined was just an added bonus.
The wedding was magical.  My Dad is allowed to perform weddings in Utah and got special permission from the State of Nevada to perform ours just a few days before the wedding.  He did a lovely job and it was an honor to have him marry us.  It was hot in the room and I remember watching a single bead of sweat running down Will's forehead and onto his cheek as the ceremony progressed.  I wasn't too hot and wondered if that was a sweat bead of anxiety or heat!  He still said "I do" so it must have been the heat!  At one point in the ceremony a fighter jet few by the window and stole the attention of everyone in the room except me, since my back was to the window.  It was the talk of the ceremony afterward and I still feel cheated for missing it!
We had a dinner immediately following at the buffet downstairs.  To me, it was the perfect place to blend our two backgrounds. There was no drinking for my side of the family and regular wedding drinking celebration for Will's side and no one was uncomfortable. 
I realize we're eating, but I like this picture
of Willie at our reception.
A month after our Wedding, Will's sister and Mom put together a wedding reception for us in which about 100 friends and family member who weren't at the wedding were invited to celebrate with us.  This was the first time I was acquainted with Tammy's Martha Stewart abilities.  She transformed her backyard into an oasis.  There were white lights strung from the trees that sent twinkling white lites on the starched white linen table cloths.  There was a deep brown accent cloth placed on each table with a vase of lemons and eucalyptus branches in the center.  She made paper napkins and plastic silverware appear like fine silver by tying them up with brown ribbon and using them as accents on the table.  I remember standing on her deck and looking out into the backyard with complete disbelief at what she had done.  It was a dreamy night and a wonderful memory. 
That night I was overwhelmed by the love that people had and expressed for Will.  I knew he was amazing, but here I had 100 people telling me that same thing!  People love him because he is a man of integrity.  There is nothing he wouldn't do for someone in need and he is loyal to a fault.  He had good friends because he is a good friend. 
I was reminded of that again on Friday at the fundraiser.  I barely had time to admire Tammy's handiwork before I was bombarded with hugs, and love from a seemingly endless line of friends.  It was so nice to talk to everyone and gain strength from their support.  Everyone thinks the world of Willie and gave me their love to send to him.  It was almost an out of body experience.  I would be talking with someone when another person would reach over and touch my elbow or offer a side hug while also receiving a wave from another supporter across the room. There were bowls of free ice cream being passed all around me and money exchanging hands.  All of this was accompanied by the ding to of the cash register up front as people bought products from the store to support us.
At one moment I felt like I was living the scene from "It's a Wonderful Life" when George Bailey returns home to his family after his life changing experience.  In the film, he is clapped on the and handed loads of money while his family nestles in close to him.  A bell rings in the movie and his daughter says the classic line
"Every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings."
If that is true, then our cash register was giving out a lot of wings to very deserving angels on Friday!
I took some pictures of the event and came home to show Willie.  He was touched by the support of so many people and wishes to send big thank yous to everyone who has helped in in thought, deed or with money.  That night his family came over and we ate dinner and re-capped the events of the day.  We were all exhausted, but there was an air of gratitude and peace in our home that was so refreshing.
We are so grateful to everyone who came out to support us at the event on Friday.  It was a HUGE success and we are thankful to our friends who organized it and those who came to support us.  There are still wrist bands and tee shirts for sale at the Health Habit and we will continue to have them available as Will continues his fight. 
Thank you for the hope you provide us daily through word, deed and prayers.  We are living a miracle and know we are not doing it alone. 
I hope everyone had a good Father's Day.  I'll see you back later this week with updates after our return to Stanford...

Saturday, June 16, 2012

More Updates to Come...

Tammy made us this fantastic "Welcome Home" sign and hung it at the shop!

It is so good to be home!  I have been negligent in posting updates, but we have been busy spending time with our family and friends.  We've had dinner with Will's family for the past 3 nights and it has felt like the holidays to me.  I feel selfish to say that I'm enjoying the time we get to spend together just wish it didn't take Will's health crisis to make us more conscious of each other! 
Please check back Monday for a full update on the awesome Strength For Willie fundraiser that was held last night at our shop, the Health Habit.  We are blown away by the response from the community and the outpouring of love we have received and are so grateful to everyone who has given so selflessly. 
Willie is doing well and resting much better at home.  Kona, our dog, is warming up to us again.  We can only judge her happiness by her tail wagging and there has been a little more of it the past two days.  There was a lot of tail wagging today when I tried to buy her love with a new chew toy.  Thankfully, dog's love is cheap to come by!
See you all Monday.  Have a wonderful weekend!

Thursday, June 14, 2012

The Month The Beavers Missed!

Mom and Dog, Reunited

Today is June 14, 2012 and just one month ago we began this crazy journey on the path that Leukemia created.  As I write this I'm sitting on the same couch in my living room where the adventure began.  It was on this couch just one month ago that Willie and I sat together and cried as we tried to gather the courage to go to the hospital;  It was on this couch that we prayed we would have the strength and faith to endure whatever trials lay ahead; and it is on this couch today that we sit together, marvelling at how that faith has carried us through.
The familiarity is refreshing.  It's like nothing has changed.
But everything has changed.
I had a friend once who dated a guy for a year.  She was so invested in him that she left all of her friends behind.  They were talking about marriage and were in happy dating bliss when he suddenly broke up with her.  We were all shocked and she was devastated.  She returned to the group after that and had a hard time fitting back in because she had missed so much.  We referred to it as the year that she had missed.
Leukemia hasn't taken a whole year from us, but May 2012 was definitely the month that we missed.
Yesterday was perhaps the best day of our lives.  We woke up, as usual, at 5 AM when the nurse came in to draw blood.  Will has created two categories for nurses: the ninjas and the Sasquatches.  The ninja nurse sneaks in during the night and does her work with skill and silence.  The Sasquatch nurse stomps into the room, turns on the light with no regard for the time, speaks loudly at every hour of the night, and makes it impossible to sleep. The nurse yesterday was on the Sasquatch side because we were both awake.
We eventualy fell back asleep and slept till 9AM without being interrupted again.  It felt so wrong to be able to sleep this late without the resident dr. coming in to do her morning examination, but we were grateful for the rest.  The doctors were slow in arriving again.  We were getting antsy around 10:30 when they still hadn't arrived.  I had plans to take a shower and run some errands as soon as the doctors came around so I was anxious for them to come.  At 11 AM I was out of patience and was about to go in search of the team when they entered the room. 
It was only the two resident women doctors and Carl, our favorite bone marrow biopsy performer.  Will was laying on my bed in the corner of the room and I was sitting at the end of the bed, rubbing his feet.  The team came over to us and it felt a bit tight with the 5 of us in the narrow space where the cot sat. 
"Your counts tripled overnight!" Noura, our main resident doctor said.
"So.....We're sending you home today!"
We must have looked like she had just slapped us in the face.  I couldn't believe what I had just heard!  I looked over at Will and he too looked like she was speaking to us in a language we don't understand.
"Today?!" I said, incredulously.
"Yeah," she said, smiling from ear to ear "You should be out of here in a few hours!"
"But....." I didn't even know what I was going to say, it all seemed so sudden.  It felt like minutes passed before I could finally I pulled my thoughts together enough to start asking questions.
"How can you be sure that his counts won't fall again tomorrow?" I asked "It just seems crazy to me that yesterday he was fragile and susceptible to infection and today he's fine to leave?"
She nodded her head and continued to smile as she explained that we would be leaving with followup care planned.  We will be meeting with Dr. Lombardi, the physician who diagnosed us in Chico, next week to begin followup care.  We talked for a while about what the next steps will be.  As for this moment in time, Will's bone marrow is clear and showing no signs of cancer cells.  We will go back to Stanford next week for another biopsy to confirm that the cells are still gone.  If those cells are gone, he will be termed in "remission."
Remission for leukemia, however, isn't too much to celebrate.  Research shows that if there is no follow up chemotherapy after the initial treatment in leukemia that the cancer cells always come back.  Because of this, Willie will have to do another round of chemotherapy at a much lower dose for about a month.  This is called consolidation therapy and he will most likely receive  treatments three days a week for 4 weeks.  We are hoping he can do these treatments from Chico, but our team at Stanford didn't seem to think this would be an option.  We're holding out hope that our visit to Dr. Lombardi next week will tell us otherwise.
We asked Noura what felt like a million other questions and she was ever so patient to talk us through everything.  After about an hour of questions and arrangements she finally just gave us her number and said to call any time.
"We'll call you every day!" I said, half joking, but mostly serious.
She laughed "I'll look forward to it!" she said, then shook our hands and wished us good luck.
I saw our social worker in the hall and she congratulated us on our release.  It seemed the staff was equally as happy to kick us out of there as we were to go!  I talked with her for a moment about our incredible, but brief journey there.  She commented on how amazingly fast Will had recovered.  She has worked there for over a decade and said the shortest she's ever seen anyone get out of there was 29 days.
We were leaving after a short 26 days.
There willie goes again, breaking state records!  He is now the proud holder of the shortest stay at Stanford record.
Will had to receive one final IV drip of potassium then he was cut free from his hospital bands and IVs and we were free to leave the hospital.  We gathered our dirty clothes and the ridiculous amount of things we have acquired over the past month and loaded up the car.  Will walked out of the hospital carrying a TV and a picture and I carried a few bags of hospital supplies.
It seemed ridiculous to me that a man who had recently received some of the most powerful chemo available was now WALKING out of the hospital carrying a TV!  He's simply incredible!
We got in the car and breathed a sigh of relief.  We were going home!
The ride home felt like it took days.  The traffic was slow in the bay area and we crawled through at a snails pace.  That was short lived and once we got past San Francisco it wasn't so bad.  It was mid afternoon and the hot sun was blazing through the window onto both of our legs.  Will's skin is quite sensitive from the chemo and he felt the heat immediately.  We searched for something to cover his legs and he ended up pulling out a few pages of his original lab work that was left in the car from a month ago.  He held the papers on top of his legs and fell asleep.  At one point in the drive I looked over at him as he drifted in an out of sleep. 
His balding head and sparse beard make him look completely different than he did a month ago.  My eyes moved to his hands as they held the labs to his skin to protect his knees from burning.  I found it funny that the very lab report that had started this whole journey was now being used as a sun shield. In that moment I felt we had come full circle.
The closer we got to Willows, the faster I wanted to drive, like a horse nearing his pasture.
When I was a kid we would spend our summers at a family ranch in Wyoming.  Part of our adventure there was learning to ride horses.  We would take long rides through the mountains and return home with a long loop around the lake.  One year, we were finishing our lap around the lake when my horse spotted the gate to his pasture up ahead and broke into a wild gallop.  I held on for dear life, not sure what to do.  I remember watching the lake bounce up and down as I jostled in the saddle.  I was sure I was going to be bucked off into the water and drown.  My uncle chased after us and calmed my horse.  He then explained to me that horses always want to run when they see their home and it was my job as the rider to keep them in check.
I have never forgotten that.  Yesterday I understood how that horse must have felt when he saw his home.  I too wanted to break into a wild gallop as we neared ours. 
We got home about 6:30PM just as my sister in law was pulling away.  She and Will's Mom had been at the house for hours cleaning it up for us.  We are so lucky to have them!  She opened the door for us and we entered the kitchen.  I just stood there for a minute.  Everything looked different. 
"The counters are so....white!" I finally said as I struggled to put my finger on what was different.
Tammy laughed and took me on a tour of everything they had cleaned.  I am embarrassed to say that my house has never been so clean!  It was like coming home to a show house.  They had vacuumed every nook and cranny in the house and even moved our couches around.  That was a fun surprise to come home to.  It's silly, but something about having a new living room set up lends its energy to our new start.
Best Friends Reunited
It felt so good to be home.  And so weird.
We weren't even gone that long.  Both Will and I have worked at camps in the past where we are used to being gone for 4-5 months on end, so coming home after a long absence isn't new to either of us.  That's why it was so interesting to me that it felt so weird to be home.  So much is different.
Neither Will nor I could wait to see Kona, our dog, but she needed a bath first.  Will's Dad came over to be with Will and we went to wash the dogs.  I was so happy to see my dog!  She didn't say anything to me at first, just ran right by me and out to the yard like she always does.  She then realized it was me and returned to jump on me and give me kisses.  It was so validating.  I then returned the love by giving her a bath...which she hated! 
With Kona cleaned up, we got Round Table Pizza and went back to our house to celebrate.  Kona was so happy to see Willie and gave him big hugs and kisses.  We enjoyed pizza and laughs with the family then lounged around on our own couches in our own house without a single ninja or Sasquatch nurse around to interrupt us.
The night was brought to a perfect close when the Giants made history when the pitcher pitched a perfect game.  We would like to believe the Giants did that for Will to celebrate our hospital release.
It was the best night ever!
We didn't get in bed until midnight, but when we did, we both agreed it was the best feeling ever.  We love our sleep number bed and it has never felt better than in did last night.  We talked about the day and marveled about how it started one way and took a crazy turn in another direction.  We were happy with the direction it took though. 
Oh so happy!
If yesterday was the happiest day ever, then today was a close second.  We slept in then dilly dalled around the house all day.  It's funny because we're not doing much different than what we were doing in the hospital room, but the location makes everything better.  Will had some friends come to visit and I tried to weed through a month's worth of mail and bills.
So what's next?
Now we carry on with life.  In a lot of ways it feels like we are waking up from a month long coma.  I wondered today if I am capable of carrying on normal conversation without talk of lab work or cell counts.  I wonder if even know how to talk about every day things anymore.  What are everyday things anyway?
There is still a very long road ahead of us.  We have several follow up appointments next week and Willie still needs another round of chemo.  There is talk of a bone marrow transplant and only time will tell if that is necessary, but we have nothing but hope for a bright future.
We are overwhelmed with gratitude for the love, support and prayers we have received from each of you.  We have received countless blessings along this journey and consider his rapid healing to be a miracle.  We will continue to pray for a miracle and hold out faith that we can receive it!
Tomorrow is the free ice cream day down at our store, the Health Habit from 2 to 8PM.  For all of you that live local, please come down and get yourself a free scoop of ice cream!  Our family and friends have done so much to arrange this for us and we will also have "Strength For Willie" tee shirts and wrist bands for sale. 
We are so blessed to have all of you in our lives.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!
I will continue to blog as our journey continues.  It helps me process things to write them out and you all have been so kind to read my ramblings and follow along with us. 
Keep on reading!
I always have something to say!

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

The Longest Road

Good news today!  Will's counts doubled again overnight.  His white count is now up to 0.7, his platelets are 135 and his red count held overnight.
Hooray! 
We got this news around 8:30 AM and weren't sure if we should celebrate or not.  Sometimes increased counts are good, and sometimes they are bad, so we were anxious to ask the doctors about it.
The doctors, however, were in no rush to talk to us.  They didn't show up until 11:30AM!  That is the latest they have ever shown up by almost an hour.  About 11 AM we were tired of waiting so I went out in the hall to see if they were getting close.  Quan and Lance, our friends who did the bone marrow biopsy yesterday, were sitting and the front desk.
"What did he say?" Lance said, without even bothering to say hello "was I as good as Carl?"
I know we talked up Carl's bone marrow biopsy skills, but we must have really made an impression of our love of Carl to have this be the first question he asked.
"Well....." I said with a laugh "on the Carl scale, you are pretty high up there!  He said you did a pretty good job."
He sat up a bit taller as I said this and squared his shoulders with pride.  Quan patted him on the back and congratulated him.  It was such a great moment, I wished had a trophy or an award to present him with.
"When are you guys coming in to see us?" I asked, then the fanfare of the moment died down.
"We're almost there," Quan said "But we don't have a lot to talk about today, just the usual."
"We saw his labs already," I said, "And we weren't sure if they were good, good, or good bad."
Everyone laughed at that and one of the residents commented on how ironically true the statement "good bad" is in regards to cancer labs.
"Oh yeah we saw them!" She said enthusiastically "We were just talking about how crazy it is that all his counts doubled overnight.  We've never seen that happen!"
She said that is a very good thing and it made me feel better.  We talked for a moment more about how amazing Will's entire case has been in comparison to the normal cases they deal with.  His case, for them, is a cake walk and everyone seems to be relieved when they get to spend some time discussing his uncomplicated care. 
I came back to the room and the team came in a few minutes later.  They reassured us that the labs were indeed "good good" and that we will now looking forward to good bone marrow biopsy results.  Noura, the resident on the team, said the results could be in that afternoon and agreed to check in with us later to let us know what is going on.
They left just before noon.  I took a trip to the Oakland LDS temple which was a most beautiful distraction.  It was a perfect day and the sky was cloudless and deep blue.  Willie hung out in the room and watched some movies.  I got back to the room later in the afternoon and Noura showed up shortly after. 
"We go some preliminary results in," she said. 
My heart started to race.  I don't know when, or if, it will ever get easier to hear those words.
We waited with anticipation as she explained that the marrow looked perfect.  There were no leukemia cells there which is great! 
BUT...
We are learning that there is no good news in cancer care without a "but" clause.  The "but" here is that the blood work showed some blasts.  Blasts are premature cells that can turn into good cells or bad cells so only time will tell what those blasts are going to turn into.  She emphasized that this is all good news and we'll just keep an eye on the blasts.
She reminded us that this is one very small step on the path we now walk.  There is no way to know just how long this journey is going to be, but she reminded us that there is no need to feel antsy if things aren't speeding along at the pace we want. 
She was kind enough to stay for a while and talk to us about bone marrow transplants.  There is really no way to know if Willie needs a transplant at this point, but he is a good candidate for a transplant based on his genetic markers, age, and physical conditions.  There are risks and benefits to doing a transplant so it is something that we will need to learn more about and see what happens with his counts in time.
She reminded us that will discuss all of this further with the team over the coming days and they will be able to provide more answers. 
What a relief!  I know it's only a small piece of good news, but it is good news nonetheless and we will take it! 
Willie has been tired again today and is sleeping right now while he's "watching" the Giants game.  I think the Giants will forgive him for resting his eyes during the game since he is busy building healthy cells.  I can only imagine the work his body must be doing in order to double his counts for two days in a row now.  No wonder he's been tired!
Here's hope for doubled counts again tomorrow!
And may the Giants win tonight!

Monday, June 11, 2012

Biopsy #4.

Sorry if this is too graphic!  Here is what they do in a biopsy.
We had a really quiet weekend.  Willie got two units of blood yesterday and since he had a reaction to the blood in the past, they now pre-medicate him with Benadryl.  This made him super tired so he spent most of Sunday sleeping. 
We were happy to learn today that his white blood cells doubled overnight!  They went from 0.2 to 0.4.  It is still ridiculously low by any standards, but we celebrate the smallest of improvements at this point!  His platelets have also come up and are now 53 and his red cells are 8.6 after the transfusion yesterday.  All in all, that is great news.  Now if he only wasn't so tired!
We met with the team this morning and continue to be entertained by our Rico Suave doctor who seems to be more interested in the status of his hair than anything else that may be going on.  He spent all of 3 minutes with us this morning.  There wasn't much to talk about anyway, he just reminded us that Will needs to have another bone marrow biopsy today and that Carl may or may not do it.
We waited out the morning with high hopes that Carl would be able to do the biopsy.  Around 2:30 PM Quan showed up.  She is the cute Asian doctor who was unable to drill into Willie's hip bone during his first biopsy at this hospital.  She is a good sport for letting us continually harass her about it so the moment she entered the room this afternoon she was met with more hazing.  We actually weren't joking when we said we hoped she wasn't there to do the biopsy, but she assured us she was just the messenger.  She reported that Carl was not at the hospital today or tomorrow, but she had scheduled Lance to do the biopsy for us.  She was quick to add that he is very strong and won a push up contest at a charity event last weekend! 
We were sold.  If it couldn't have Carl, we would at least settle for a guy who can push his own body weight!
Lance showed up about a half hour later looking anything but strong in a pair of blue medical scrubs.  He is tall and thin with limbs that seem to go on forever.  He has a friendly smile and a wild crop of dark hair that gives him a boyish quality.  He told us he has a friend that does competitive weight lifting which launched he and Will into a conversation that included terminology the rest didn't understand.  We laughed as they explained what it means to do a dead lift "sumo style" which I learned means to stand with your legs far apart while lifting the weight.  I think there is no better way to build trust with Willie than to throw out some weight lifting terms! 
We felt ate ease as he began the procedure.  He hasn't done very many biopsies so Quan was here to instruct and support and he was there for the muscle.  He numbed Willie up and began laying out the items he would need.  He was moving at a leisure pace and we could see that he was no Carl, but I had high hopes that he would pull through. 
He inserted the instrument and began drilling.  Now that I know what the sound of the metal rod drilling into the bone sounds like, I can't ignore it.  I gritted my teeth and watched Will's face carefully as the scratching sound told us Lance was making headway.  Will went into his "biopsy zone" and started his deep breathing.  The instrument went further and further into Will's hip, deeper than it has ever been drilled before, but Will seemed to be doing fine.  Lance removed the top piece and pulled out some of the bone marrow fluid with ease.  He handed it to the lab tech who put it in a petri dish and announced it was good.
I breathed a sigh of relief.  We were half way there.  The next step involves drilling the instrument a bit deeper and removing a piece of the bone.  Lance began drilling again and the metal rod disappeared further into Will's hip.  The rod is about 8" long and the most it has even been inserted in previous biopsies is half way.  My eyes must have been the size of saucers as I watched him drill it as far as it would go.  I imagined he must have speared all the way through his hip!  He flipped a lever on the device that slices a piece of the bone off, then removed the instrument. 
We all held our breath as he emptied the contents into a specimen dish that the lab tech was holding.  She swirled it around then frowned
"It's not enough" she said "I need another sample."
We all turned to look at Willie, trying to gauge his reaction.  He remained calm and zoned out.  Lance explained that he needed to go back in and Will nodded in consent.  This time he went straight down into the bone where the previous time he had been angled.  He drilled straight down and we both gritted our teeth as I noted that the device was not moving.  There are little lines all the way up the metal rod to help gauge how deep it has been drilled into the bone.  I watched the lines moving back and forth, but not getting any deeper into the bone.
He must had noticed me watching the lines because he looked up at me
"Anything?" he said
I nodded my head "no" then turned to Willie
"He's almost in," I reassured, "You're doing great!"
Sure, it was a blatant lie, but I had full faith that Lance would be able to get it in and Willie didn't need to know that we weren't anywhere near getting a sample.
Lance smiled at me and gathered his strength.  He had broken into a sweat and I watched as even his forearms began to glisten with sweat under the pressure.
"I see why you had trouble" he said to Quan and we all laughed.
"Did I forget to mention that Will has a metal hip?" I asked and we laughed again
"It feels like metal!" he replied, but he continued to drill.
Finally, the line on the rod began to disappear under the skin, and soon the next line began to enter.  We were getting somewhere!  Will began to feel some pain as he drilled a bit deeper, but he had to get a few more twists in to be sure.  He gave the rod a final twist, cut out a sample of the bone and removed the instrument.
The room was dead silent as we waited for the lab tech to see the sample.
"It's perfect!" she said, as we all exhaled in a loud mutual sigh of relief.
Willie did great!
Everyone offered praise and congratulations to Willie, but Willie, who is always so humble congratulated Lance.
"Is that the hardest biopsy you've ever done?" He asked Lance.
The answer was obvious by the way lance was leaning against the table, wiping his sweaty forehead with his sleeve.
"Oh yeah!" he said, with a little laugh "I've never done a biopsy like that. I can drill through most hips in a couple of turns, but not yours!"
The entire procedure took him 25 minutes.  Carl had done it in 10, but we decided that even though was wasn't as fast as Carl, he had still done a good job. 
It's nice to have another biopsy done.  I wish we knew how many biopsies Willie is going to need so we could cross them out as they happen.  One second thought, that may be a discouraging amount of biopsies to cross out! 
We will get the results from the biopsy later this week so we are asking for all of your prayers and positive thoughts that it will be good news!  We will pray that Will's counts will continue to rise and that we will be leaving here soon.
But if not...
I once heard a talk given on faith that keeps coming to my mind.  A story was told from Daniel chapter 3 in the bible in which the king of babylon builds a golden image and commands everyone to worship it.  There were three men who would not worship it because they put their faith in God.  The king was angry and said if they didn't worship the idol then he would throw them into a fiery furnace.  They responded by saying that they had faith that their God could deliver then from the flames, but if not, they would still not worship his idols.
What amazing faith that is!  They knew that God had the power to deliver then from the flames, but they also understood that it may not be in his plan to do that for them. 
In the story, the king threw them into the furnace and they did not burn.  He then had them pulled from the furnace and marveled that not a single hair of their heads was burned and they didn't even smell like smoke!
We are working every day to have that kind of faith that these three men had.  We know that if we are not delivered from our current furnace of leukemia flames that we will still put our faith in God.  We have our own agenda and desires for how we want this to go, but if not...
I think these are the three most powerful words that manifest faith.
I hope everyone else can find hope in this story as I have. 
Tonight we are relaxing and Will is resting after his biopsy.  We have high hopes for better labs tomorrow!
Have a wonderful night everyone! 


Saturday, June 9, 2012

Bone Marrow Transplant?

Empty "Employee of the Month" and "Employee of the Year" parking places.
Apparently when you're that good, you get Saturdays off!
Saturdays are quiet around the hospital.  Everyone is bit more relaxed and any schedule that is followed during the week seems to be forgotten.  Because of this, our team of doctors didn't show up until close to 11 AM!  We were informed yesterday that we would be getting a new attending physician so we were expecting a new face.
He entered the room like a musician taking the stage at a concert, acting as if we had been waiting for his performance for hours.  In truth, we had been waiting for them to show for hours so we were rather happy to see him.  He introduced himself, but I wasn't even listening to his name.  His body language was far to loud to hear anything else.  He is young looking, but probably in his early 40's with dark wavy hair and bronzed skin that suggests he doesn't spend every waking moment inside this hospital as all our other doctors do.  A shiny gold earring hung from his left ear and caught our eyes as it reflected the low light in the room.  He was wearing a pair of faded low rise jeans held up by a fancy belt that probably costs more than my entire wardrobe.  His shoes were gray leather with sharp angles that are so bizarre looking that I can only assume they are the current trend in Europe.
He was holding a flashlight in his hand that he was switching on and off as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other in quick movements that made him look like he was dancing.  Everything about him reminded me of Uncle Jesse from the old TV show "Full House."  This character was played by John Stamos and was the heart throb of every pre teen girl in the late 80's and early 90's. 
Uncle Jesse, MD, as we will call him, looked in Will's mouth then asked him about his hair.  Willie was wearing a ski hat and explained that we had shaved his head because his hair was falling out.
"It's going to come back different," he said as if the status of Will's hair is the most pressing thing on our minds  "It may come back grey or curly...."
Will just stared at him.  It was kind of funny, actually, because this is the furthest thing from our minds right now, but apparently this doctor felt we needed to know. 
"It will probably go back to normal after a while," he added "but it may be different at first."
We thanked him for his unsolicited information and he nodded.
"Today will just be more of the same," he continued "we're just waiting to take the next biopsy on Monday to see what those results say."
We asked if Carl would be available to do that and no one seemed to know if he will be here or not. 
"There are plenty of other good doctors that can do the biopsy" Dr. Uncle Jesse said "If Carl can't do it, we'll find someone else who can!"
This was entirely the wrong thing to say.  Our resident Dr. who has been with us for a few weeks actually cringed when he said this.  She knows the difference Carl made in easing Will's anxiety and has been trying to arrange for us to have him again.
"I would prefer to have Carl do it." Will said, politely.
"Well, if we can't get Carl we'll send in two of the girls so they can switch off it they get tired."
!!!!
Surely he must be joking!  Sadly, he wasn't.  Does he really think it's a good solution to send in two girls to do the work of one Carl?
The resident could sense our frustration so she jumped in and said she would work on getting Carl scheduled for us for Monday.  We're crossing our fingers that he will be available. 
Dr. Uncle Jesse shook his hair back away from his face with a full body movement that involved an Elvis hip shake. 
"We're going to be contacting your siblings this week for a lab draw to see if they are a bone marrow match." He said, matter of factly.
We nodded and he must have assumed that meant we had no questions.
"Ok then," he said, heading toward the door "We'll see you later then."
There were a million questions I wanted to ask, but he was already on his way out the door.  We have known from the moment we entered the hospital that they would need to test Will's siblings to see if they are matches for a possible transplant.  They told us from the beginning that this is just something that is routinely done just in case the need arises.  We haven't revisited the topic until today and something about the way he delivered it made us feel like he was telling us a transplant was imminent. 
There was a lot of anxiety in the room in the wake of the team of doctors.
"I don't want to put my siblings through that!" Will said, referring to the bone marrow transplant.
"They would gladly do that for you!" I corrected him "and besides, they're not saying you NEED a transplant, they just want to see if your siblings match just in case."
His humility continues to amaze me.  I can't confidently say that I would think of my sibling's health when my health was worse off.  I know his brother or sister would gladly give him their healthy marrow without a second thought.  I would give him mine if I could!
The thought of a bone marrow transplant is terrifying to me.  I know nothing about the process so it brings to mind images of medal rods and traction devices.  We did some Internet research and our fears were eased when we discovered that it is nothing like I imagined.  There are several different methods, but the most common is administered via IV much like a blood transfusion.  Once the new cells enter the blood stream they work their way into the bone marrow to get busy making good cells.  There are a lot of other methods, but nothing was worse than a bone marrow biopsy so if he can do that, he can do anything!
This journey has taught us that the fear of things is almost always worse that the reality.  We will continue to move forward with complete trust in our doctors that they will do the things that will be best for Willie.  Our best case scenario will be that the chemo will work and this next bone marrow biopsy will show no cancer cells.  That scenario will allow us to come home soon and continue maintenance care from home.  We know, however, that this may not happen and we may be here for a while longer. 
This is our trial right now and it is not not scheduled according to our time table!  I suppose that is the nature of a trial though, if it happened in our timing and according to our desires then it wouldn't be hard!  And if it wasn't hard then we wouldn't grow.  So in the end, we are stronger because we have no control. 
We do have control over our faith though and that can't be shaken.  We know we will walk out of this with our heads held high.  There is a scripture that says "there will be no witness until after the trial of your faith."  This is our trial of faith and we know we will receive blessings beyond our comprehension from this trying moment in our lives.
Because it is only a moment.
Thanks again to all of you for your thoughts and prayers.  We are beating this one day at a time thanks to you all!
Have a great weekend!  The Giants have started it off right with a win today!
See you all on Monday!

Friday, June 8, 2012

Me and My Best Friend


Today is National Best Friends Day.  We learned this while watching the Today show this morning.  They didn't say what you are supposed to do on best friends day or how it is supposed to be celebrated, but I am lucky enough to spend this national holiday with my best friend. 
Yesterday marked the three year anniversary of our engagement.  The theme of lives together has been patience so it really is no surprise that our patience is being tested again with this new trial.  We had been dating for two very loooong years when we started seriously talking about marriage.  The idea of marriage had been on the table since the first week we had started dating, but it was more of a running joke between us than a reality.
From outward appearances, we were never a couple that should have been together.  I was a sheltered girl fresh out of Utah who had firm opinions on who I would and would not date.  I had a list a mile high of qualifications my future husband would have to meet and only wanted to date guys who fulfilled the items on the list.  Willie, on the other hand, had no list and no judgements.  He was easy breezy and had a "go with the flow and see where we go" kind of attitude.
We started dating so subtly, that I don't think we even knew we were together.  It was 2 summers after our first meeting.  We had broken off from the previous camp and joined together with a few friends to create a new camp in Vermont.  I was the nutrition director and had been living in Canada with the girls hill director for most of the off season as we built the camp from the ground up.  It was an exciting time in my life as I was traveling a lot and creating a nutrition program from scratch.  It was the uniting of my two passions and I was elated to be part of it. 
A few weeks before I went to camp I got an email from Willie.  It was a casual email saying that he would see me soon at camp.  I knew he was a weight lifter and wanted to get into weight lifting so I talked with the friend I was living with and we decided to create a weight lifting challenge for camp.  We called it "Heav for the Beav"and made tee shirts to show our excitement in becoming a rippling mass of muscle like Willie Beavers was. 
He smiled when he arrived at camp and saw us wearing our tee shirts with the sleeves rolled up to reveal our scrawny muscles.  We were good students for the first few days as he instructed us on proper lifting techniques and coached us through some intense workouts.  It soon became clear that weight lifting was going to take a lot more time than camp directors have to spare so the work outs faded away.
About a week before the campers were scheduled to arrive the counselors took up an impromptu game of basketball after dinner.  I had just finished cleaning up the kitchen and was drying my hands on my apron as I walked over to the court to watch.  I had never seen Will play basketball before and was rather impressed at how agile the bulky weight lifter was.  The ball was passed to him and he jumped to shoot it.  Everything moved into slow motion as he came down wrong from the shot, his foot and knee twisting with a loud "pop" as he slammed into the cement.  Everyone gasped and and rushed toward him.
He seethed in pain and rolled on the cement for a moment as we tried to process what had happened.  There was no professional medical help for a good 30 miles so the rest of us fell back on whatever novice medical training we had and instructed him to stay put.  A car was backed on to the basketball court and he was loaded up and sent to the hospital.
It was the longest night ever as we waited for news.  As I look back at it now, I must have felt something for him at that time because I was literally torn up with concern over his injury.  He returned sometime in the early morning hours and the next morning I learned that he had torn something in his knee and would need to be on crutches for a few weeks. 
They had moved him into the directors cabin and he was staying on a mattress in the middle of the living room floor.  I was given the task of making sure was fed.  I was the nutrition director, and in charge of making most of the meals and running the kitchen, so it seemed a likely task, but I was still afraid of the grizzly of a man that he was.  I had yet to spend any time alone with him and I remember the feeling of anxiety I felt the first morning I delivered him breakfast.
He was laying on a mattress in the middle of a dusty cabin floor.  His knee was bandaged and braced and a pair of crutches were laid carefully next him.  He smiled as I handed him a plate with a meager breakfast of a toasted bagel with cream cheese.  He must have been starving because he tore into the meal as if he hadn't eaten in days.
I stood awkwardly at the door, feeling uncomfortable for no particular reason.  I was slowly backing out the screen door when he noticed and stopped me.
"Sit down for a minute!" he said.
I sat.
He ate.
There were no words.
When he finished he handed me the plate and thanked me and I rushed out of the cabin. 
We repeated the scene at lunch, then dinner and by the next day he had me sitting on the edge of the bed while I waited for him to finish.  A few meals after that we began sharing some casual conversation during meals and by the 5th day in I was bringing work in with me and staying for a lot longer than it took him to eat.  I found it was the only place on camp I could be in silence and get some work done!
I was seeing him 3 times a day for meals and random other times when he would call me on the walkie talkie for a snack.  I considered myself to be his room service.  He considered me to be more.
My first inclination came toward the end of his recovery.  He was now in his own cabin and was able to walk without crutches.  We had decided it would be the last meal I would need to bring to his room and we shared some friendly conversation as he ate.  I was no longer bringing work with me, but spending the time talking to him and learning more about the secretive Willie Beavers.
He was captivating. 
Curious.
A puzzle that I needed to solve. 
But not in a romantic way.  Not for this girl.  He was not anywhere near the type of person I thought I should be with so I wasn't looking at him in any sort of romantic way.
That night he finished his dinner and handed me the plate.
"You'll have to bring me dinner now to make this up to me!" I said with a laugh.
"Don't you worry," he said "I've already planned to take you out to dinner to thank you."
My heart skipped a beat.  Was this a date proposal?
I felt the blood rush to my face and hurried to leave before he saw my embarrassed rosy cheeks.
What was I going to do?  I couldn't have a guy like him like me!  He wasn't even in my category of marriage worthy guys so I didn't even want to lead him on by dating him.  I had to admit that he was attractive and intriguing, but I was after marriage and dating only those I planned to marry was my plan.  Therefore, he was out!
In retrospect, I was ridiculous!  What was one dinner date going to do?
That first dinner date was unlike any other date I had been on.  My previous dates had felt more like job interviews where I was grilled to find out where I ranked in a sea of other available girls.  By the end of those dates I would learn whether my answers had qualified me for another date, or whether I had to begin the interview process again with another guy.  This was the dating culture I came from and all I knew of dating, but this date was totally different.  Will didn't seem to have an agenda.  The conversation was easy and directionless.  I didn't have to qualify for anything.  I just had to be me.
I remember coming back to camp after that date and feeling like I had been hanging out with a friend.  There was no anxiety about whether I had said the right thing or concern about whether he was going to ask me about again.  It was easy breezy.  Just like Will.
With Will back on his feet I had no need to see him 3 times a day.  I was constantly busy with my role at the camp so the days flew by without any thought of taking him the meals that had once filled my time.  My days began at 5AM and ended with me running raged around 1AM.  I was a walking zombie.  As soon as I laid on my inflatable mattress each night I was done.  Nothing could wake me.
One night, about a week after first date I was startled awake.  Someone was in my room.  We lived in a communal cabin with nothing but a simple latch on each door so it wasn't hard to enter a room, but no one had ever come into mine.  I struggled to calm my heart and pull my thoughts together as I asked who it was.
The room was dark and my visitor took a seat on my bed.
It was Willie.
"What are you doing?" I asked him, in surprised.
"Just wondering what you're doing." He said as if it were a totally normal thing to say to someone at 3AM when you have woken from from sleep and can obviously see what they were doing.
"I'm sleeping." I said and laid back down.
He sat for a minute longer and we exchanged a sleepy conversation as I drifted back asleep.
"I'm going to marry you!" he said matter of factly. 
"Mmmhmmm" I mumbled from my sleeping state.
"Ok then." he said. I don't know how long he stayed after that.  I was too tired to be polite and show him out.  All I remember is waking up the next morning and wondering if I had dreamt it up.
Obviously I didn't because he did marry me, just like he said. 
Two years after that event we were a completely different couple.  We had tried the long distance dating thing for a while with me living in Utah and him in California.  That wasn't working so I moved to Sacramento.  That was still too far so I finally moved to Chico.  We were happy and had been discussing marriage.  In the fall of 2008 I started to drop subtle hints about the type of ring I would like.  He was always preoccupied when these conversations came up so I didn't push it.  I lived near a Mervyn's and saw a ring there that I fell in love with.  It was an antique ring with a square cut diamond in the middle and accent diamonds on both bands.  I reminded me of the grandma's ring and I was instantly in love with it.  The only problem was it was way out of our price range, costing near $3000. 
Over the course of the following months, Mervyn's announced it was going out of business and began discounting the ring.  I showed it to Will during a shopping trip there and he didn't seem interested.  Another month went by and the ring was discounted again.  Finally it was the last day that the store was ever going to be opened and the ring was still there.  I felt it was a sign that we needed to get it!
We had to drive to Willows that night and back to Chico which is an hour and a half trip and we made it just before the store closed.  There was a couple looking at the ring when we got to the counter and I wanted to tackle them and take it away.  Thankfully, they decided they didn't want it and we snatched it up.  With all the discounts we ended up getting it for $500 which is a steal of a deal by any standards.
It was nearing Christmas and I had dreams of a Christmas engagement, but anyone who knows Willie, knows that he can not be rushed into anything.  I may possibly be the most impatient person in the entire world so it was extremely trying on me to wait for him to propose.  Weeks turned to months and he still hadn't given me the ring.  We were planning a wedding for September 5, 2009.  We had reserved a wedding chapel in Las Vegas and had the invitations printed up for delivery.
It was June 8, 2009 and we were about to send out invitations to a wedding that had not even been proposed to the bride yet!  I told him that night that I wanted to have the ring so when people got the invitation and asked about the ring that I could show them!  I am so needy! 
I also told him I wanted to be surprised.  It was quite the lofty request, I wanted the ring, but I wanted to be surprised.
He managed to pull it off and surprised me the next morning when he asked me to marry him and finally presented me with that beautiful ring.  That was June 9, 2009, three years ago from yesterday.  Three years of hanging out with my best friend.
Looking back, it's amazing to note how our friendship has changed and continues to change.  I thought I loved him when I married him, but I can see now that I didn't understand that complete debts of love.  I am fascinated by how endless my capacity to love this man is.  This kind of love is a gift and I'm grateful to have it.
Willie had a good day today.  We had a music date and listened to a western band named "The Saddle Cats" that played in the atrium.  It was a good time complete with cowboy hats and yodelling.  We are still on kitchen boycott so I went out and got Chinese food for dinner which was good, but Willie said it was no Fu Hing which is the Chinese restaurant in Willows.
We'll have Fu Hing again soon.  Those crab and cheese won tons will never know what hit them when Willie gets home!



Thursday, June 7, 2012

No News is Good News?


Today has been a bit of a bummer day.  Our day began, as usual, with the resident doctor waking us up to examine Willie.  She reported that his lab results looked good.  His white count is holding at 0.3, Red cells are at 7.6 which is good because they haven't fallen since his last infusion two days ago.  The platelet count was still pending so we don't know how he did after receiving platelets yesterday.  She left, then returned with the whole team about an hour later.  Today there was a silly amount of people.  They kept filing into the room like clowns squeezing into a clown car.  When they were are inside and the door was squeezed shut I took a head count: 8 people.
Well, not just 8 people, 8 Stanford doctors clad in white lab coats with their name and the hospital embroidered on the left breast pocket.  It's funny how much clout a lab coat can give a person.  I've seen some of our doctors wandering around on their lunch breaks without their lab coats on and I would never have guessed they were anything but a visiting family member.  The second the lab coat is on, however; they become the authority on health. 
We put our faith in these white lab coats.
Willie was sitting up in bed and the attending physician came around to stand in front of him. The rest of the crew hovered behind the bed like a silent audience awaiting the opening scene of a dramatic play. 
"We got the results back on the bone marrow." he said "There were some cells there, but we aren't sure if they are blasts or not yet.  What we usually do in this scenario is wait a week then take another biopsy to see what is going on."
My heart was beating so loudly I was sure the whole room could hear it.  This wasn't good news or bad news.  It was just simply, news, but the energy in the room gave me flashbacks of the night we received the diagnosis three short weeks ago.  I looked into the faces of the silent audience of doctors behind the bed.  So they is why they were here.  They were all receiving training on how to inform people that their lives will continue to be interrupted by a cancer they so desperately hoped would be gone.
"So we continue to stay here and wait." I said. 
It wasn't a question, it was more of a sad statement said in defeat.  The doctor nodded his head in affirmation.
"We will continue to watch Willie and keep an eye on his counts.  If his counts start to come up then we will know that the cells we saw in the marrow are not cancer cells and we can wait a bit longer to do the biopsy."
This was good news.  This is hope.  He went on to explain that the bone marrow biopsy taken after a round of chemo is supposed to show no cells at all, good or bad.  Will's contained a few small cells the could be leukemia cells that will need another round of chemo to kill.  He was quick to add that they may also be good cells, or cancer cells that the chemo just hasn't got around to killing yet.  We prefer to focus on the latter of the two.  By waiting a week to test again we will have a more conclusive idea of what is going on.
What a bummer!
He delivered the news quickly then shooed the herd of doctors out the door.  We sat in silence for a moment as we absorbed the news.
"I don't know how to feel." I finally said "It's not like it's bad news, but it's not good news either.  I just hate being stuck in this limbo!"
Willie was silent.  He reached up and scratched his head and I watched as a dozen strands of hair fell to the ground.  He has been losing his hair for the past few days at a steady rate.  It's no secret that people lose their hair after going through chemo, but I just assumed it happened all at once.  Like one day every strand of hair jumped ship and fell out at the same time like removing a wig.  It is not that pretty.
Will started losing his hair on Tuesday afternoon.  I had gone for a walk while he was taking a nap.  When I returned he was sitting on the side of the bed, staring at the ground as if in shame.
"My hair is falling out." he said, then motioned to the pillow.
I was shocked to see the amount of hair on the pillow.  I would have expected to see a large bald spot somewhere on his head from the amount on the pillow, but to me, his hair still looked normal.  From that moment on he has been trailing strands of hair everywhere he goes. 
Finally Willie spoke
"I just want to go home."he said into the morning air.
"I know," I said, "I know."
I didn't have a single positive thing to combat this with.  Up until this morning I have been saying things like "we'll be home sooner than we know" or "just a few more days until we get the results and you'll be all clear so we can go home!"
The neutral news we had just received took the wind out of our sails.  We know we will at least be here another 7 days until we get the next results and who knows how long we will need to stay depending on what the results say. 
It just felt like we were receiving a diagnosis all over again.  It suddenly became clear to me that this is how our lives are going to be from now on.  There will never be a time when we are not thinking about what the next step is going to be with his leukemia.  We will always be in this limbo of wondering whether the cancer is gone or if it is wreaking havoc on his cells.
This is our life now.
But we are ok with that.  We can handle it.  We have each other and an amazing support system of family, friends and the community.  We are stronger than leukemia!  We would just FEEL a lot stronger outside of these hospital walls.  We've been stuck in this small room for 3 weeks now and we are more than ready to get out of here!
Will wanted to take a shower, but didn't want to burden the drain with all of his hair.  Now that's a good plumber if he's thinking about the drain when his hair is falling out!  He wanted me to shave his head so I went out and bought cheap pair of clippers.
He leaned over the trash and I turned on the black clippers.  They buzzed in my hand as I began removing the first sections of hair just above his ear. 
"It's just hair," I told myself as each strand fell into the trash, pulling at my heart strings as it went. "It will grow back."
My eyes grew blurry as I fought back tears. 
It's not just hair, it's everything it represents. 
It is admitting he has cancer.
It is proof that our fight is just beginning.
It is accepting that things will never be the same.
It is the end of an era.
The hum from the buzzers began to numb my emotions and I gathered the courage to look at Will's reflection in the mirror.  He was calm, focused, staring steadily at my hands as they removed long sections of hair.  There was a drive in his eyes that I have never seen before.  An intensity that would scare the crap out of me if I was cancer!
My heart was lifted as I was reminded, once again, that we were going to be ok.  We still have hope and we will move forward with renewed faith as fresh and new as the soft skin that appears under his vanishing hair.
I stepped back from his shaved head and took in my handiwork.  He looks completely different, but his deep blue eyes will always be the same.  They are my home.  I will always feel safe with those eyes looking back at me.
"I don't know how I got myself such a good looking husband!" I said, and gave him hug. 
And I meant it.  He may have a buzzed head with scattered patches of pink skin, but to me he is gorgeous.