Day 11 Tides turning

 

Keep Calm and Fight On

As week two of chemo and radiation quickly comes to a close tomorrow, David surprised me tonight with a question:  Should we make a trip to Gunter this weekend - together. What? As I probed to see what was behind this question I realized it was many things. But mainly, he said it would be the last weekend he could even consider taking a trip like that. He's getting pretty beat up by the cancer treatments, and they will ultimately tell him what he can and can't do. I think he feels like this is a weekend he could actually decide what he can do. The future is now. Wait, like, now? Yes, now is what we have. After his double whammy on Tuesday, then radiation the remainder of the week, he's feeling it for sure. We had a preview of what Mouth Sore HellVille here on cancer island looks like. It's not dug its deep trenches in just yet, but sending love notes of mouth ulcers and sores that come and go. The mouth rinse of baking soda is holding them off - for now. His face looks and feels like he stayed at the beach 4 days too many, without sunscreen. The special lotion helps. The bridge of his nose is sore as if accidentally knocked in the nose by an elbow at a pickup basketball game. His eyes are dry and have a sign on them stating Posted: Contacts Keep Out. The artificial tears and nightly ointment help. His tummy asks for acid reducers and anti-nausea medication constantly. And nasal rinsing now includes Johnson & Johnson baby shampoo to help provide an emollient for the thick mucus taking up residence. It also gives his sinus scabbing (from the radiation) some comfort, and also serves as a barrier by which bacteria and mucus can flow more easily. There’s fluoride to protect his teeth, and fiber and colon supplements to fight off the natural dehydration of the radiation. His number one priority is to drink, drink and drink some more. 

Power of Perspective 

What I think David is actually saying is: Pay yourself first. Because if you're not first, you're last. You've heard your financial advisor say this too many times, and you always think you need to pay others first, then yourself. Finally, Edward Jones, we are listening now. It's time to pay ourselves first and do what we can while we can. Now, it's not about money, but about time.

It's Thursday night, so we still have more time to evaluate this heading home for the weekend question. We won't be jumping too quickly on this one. I'll let you know how it pans out. 

Saying 'I'm Not Okay' - out loud

How many gagillions of times have I said 'I'm Not Okay' in my head. I was taught early on in ultra running that you keep all complaints in your head, because when you speak them is when they become real. I found that to be some of the best advise I'd received from my ultra running friends except for the usual, "Drink on the ups". And that's usually what I always did, drink my water on the climb of the hills, as that's when you're going slower anyway. Might as well use that time wisely. 

Saying 'I'm Not Okay' - out loud - was more of a challenge for me, as mental strength is what gets you to the finish line of a 100 miler, not your body. Yet now, with cancer, is that true? I've been thinking about this recently knowing that at some point David needs to be able to say I'm Not Okay - out loud. And today, he started the preface to that with "I can still do this now, so I will, because you'll be doing it for me before too long". I was so proud. That's what comes before I'm Not Okay - out loud. The changes are happening and we see them everyday. We have a little conversation each day that could be titled: What Today Looks Like. We both know it's about the side effects of cancer treatment, and how he's feeling, and what techniques we are using and what might lie ahead. Since the future seems to be now, we take the day as given and go from there. I mean, this is all so new to us that we don't know what anything else looks like, except today. 

Note to future David

If I could tell future David something, I'd tell him his success with his cancer treatments is primarily due to his insurmountable amount of mental strength that he may not know he even had. I'd tell him I was proud then, and am proud now, of all his bravery. And what I want to tell him now is it's okay to be scared. And that being scared means he's about to do something really, really brave. And lastly, that you can keep going long after you think you can't. They are all simple words that in times of strife make a huge difference in perspective. You’re beating cancer like a boss, David, and I didn't expect anything other than just that.  #soproud

Alive + Well

Life continues to swirl for us all, and outside of cancer island, I know it’s a busy place, too. I miss that kind of “busy”, because on cancer island, things like the Yoga Study continues with no yoga, only surveys asking how we are, and if we still feel like Doing Things. David and I both have a hat that says Doing Things (thank you, Lauren) so yes, we must still be doing things. I'm pretty sure we are. I will say as this journey continues, that question changes form and texture. We are doing things, but they are just different things now. Hopefully, we won't get to the point where we just flat out say No. We. Are. Not. Doing.Things. I'm inspired to not get to that point because that's the worse answer ever and I don't want to have to say that. But they keep asking it, and that means there's a reason they are asking. Ugh.

Brooks is doing things. He's in day care and convincing his caretakers to hold him while he naps instead of putting him in the crib.

He's an expert thumb sucker now, too. He loves to smile, esp at his mama and daddy. 

And Brooks is about to move to a new house in Fort Worth with his very own room. Tula will get a back yard, and Lauren and Ryan will have room to grow in every direction with bathrooms and bedrooms to enjoy. We are very excited for their new change and although not there to help move them, that's not necessarily a bad thing. Lauren is known for her mad moving skills. She's got it well under control and may one day write her own book on moving called How To Move Using Only Trash Bags. It would be a bestseller for all 18 - 25 year olds. She's 28 now, and has called the moving company to take care of it all. I'm pretty sure moving boxes will be in her future nowadays. 

Just for good measure, here’s this

Brooks really does sleep in a crib here and there, but as most babies do, he prefers a warm body to sleep upon. 

What else is happening 

I look forward to heading back to Dallas the last week in January for my 2nd covid vaccine. I'll check the farm then, and although David and I both are not really seeing family and friends (in our attempt to minimize David's propensity for covid) it gives me a chance to go see all the animals and check the farm. David will be staying in Houston for this expedition of mine. We are still teetering on the thought of going home this weekend.

We are fortunate to have our caretaker at the farm twice a day, and then Angela and Paul are thankfully visiting as often as they desire to love the animals and clean the barn (only as much as they want, as chicken poo is not very glamorous). We have an egg customer who texted me that he went and plucked the fresh eggs out of the barn himself (he texted and asked if he could) and said he happened to "feed the dogs and birds" while there. We also have Cody and Amy coming over to check on Carlos regularly.

Who is Carlos?  

Turns out Amy and Cody (friends of ours who also fixed our front deck and put the flag pole up for us - C.A. Decking and Construction) have a new silkie black rooster. Amy very-much wants more silkie chickens and since they are pricey, thought we could work together on project “Silkie Chicks”. So, Amy brought Carlos, her black silkie rooster over to join our designated Little Girl Area, where only silkie and frizzle chickens live. They have a large fenced in area where we try hard to keep them safe. This all happened this past Monday, and Amy is coming by the farm periodically to check on the progress of it all. Silkie chickens are known for being very broody (sitting on their eggs). When we used to have Post Malone, our only (silkie) rooster on the Graves Farm, we had silkie chicks galore and ended up giving Post to someone else who wanted to experience lots of chicks. Fast forward to now. We are doing it again. But this time, Amy is there as the Conductor to help make sure the symphony performs as it all should. There may actually be a batch of chicks before we even get back to Gunter?! Who knew. 

We haven't seen Carlos yet, but if and when I go back home to Gunter, I'll get a photo so we can all see what the man-about-town looks like. This is ultimate goal:

sweet baby chicks under their mamas wings ❤

Planting seeds

As each day passes, David and I plant seeds that are intended to help with our growth and survivability tomorrow. My sister and I often talk about the seeds of bluebonnets, as her husband, Gene is a landscape architect, and also David as an avid bluebonnet lover - both of whom speak bluebonnet fluently. Texas bluebonnets have large, hard-coated seeds that cause them to have a low germination rate the first year or two - and sometimes longer. This is natures insurance so if there's a drought or rough conditions the first year or so, the seeds get another chance at life the following year. As the hard seed coats wear down, they eventually begin to sprout. The hard seed coat is an excellent mechanism for survival during unfavorable years. I've embraced the bluebonnet seed as a metaphor for times like these. Times can be tough and our seeds are sowing right now. But if we wait for more favorable times, we will bloom. We will bide our time during this drought, as both my sister, Sheryl and I both know oh-so-well, we will bloom again. When the conditions are right, as God will provide the water and necessary conditions. The wait is worth it. The beautiful blooms will come. 

Let's see what tomorrow brings,

Cyndi