Life is Good

Family happenings

As Brooks turned 6 months old last month, I'm trying to figure out where time actually goes. It's here, and then all of a sudden, that time has passed and the next minute is here. It seems more apparent when there is a baby involved, because like Brooks, babies are doing new things every day. So while I try to figure out where time goes, little bubbi Brooks is sitting up and playing, growing new teeth and eating food on his own and growing. Lots and lots of growing. 

I’m not sure whose happier

Look at you go

Trying hard to get that in his mouth 

What a joy 💗

It's gone now

I can't even believe it myself, but it happened. This past Thursday, David had his inguinal hernia surgery completed. It's really done. I mean, people get hernia's all the time, but to have to wait for it to be repaired was an opportunity to practice patience. The softball in his right groin is now gone. Yeah, it was bad. The hernia's need for constant attention rivaled with the radiation/chemo healing. Yet, I will say the hernia did serve as a distractor during cancer treatment - and after. 

I wish to thank Dr deVilleneuve for performing his surgical magic to make softballs disappear. I also want to thank Dr Waheed for being so careful with the anesthesia portion, knowing that David's throat was still vulnerable from the radiation, and his intubation for the surgery was seamless. Together, these amazing doctors did what they do best. And now David reaps the rewards of their hard work. I also want to say a huge Thank You to Becky and Cindy in the Recovery Room who took great care of David after his surgery. They made everything so easy, and since I used to work there with them at Stonebridge Surgery Center, they always provide comfort and expertise just when I need it the most. They know me better than I know myself. One thing I know for sure is, they are always a pocketful of sunshine. 

Rewind back to Thursday night, and I'm here to tell you the ride home from the surgery center with David was filled with nausea and vomiting that's never fun in a car (or on a plane, or anywhere for that matter). But for whatever reason, it happens after surgery sometimes. David got back on track by around Thursday night at 8 pm, and things have been looking up since then. Just a bump in the road. And actually, come to think about it, it was a bump in the road that started that whole thing.

Fast forward to Sunday, and you'd wonder if David even had surgery. He's so grateful to have this hernia fixed, that the recovery seems like a piece of cake. It's easy for me to say that, but I can tell you that he makes it look easy. Granted, people who make hard things look easy are always inspiring to me. And he keeps doing just that. Flying through hard things like he's done this all before. So glad you are feeling better, David. You certainly deserve to feel better. Let's stay on that train. The one where we feel good most all the time. 

Like all of us, we are moving through the steps of life. It just so happens that his next big step is a PET scan on May 24 (this month!) along with more labs and a visit to Dr Hanna so that he can tell David that he's cancer free. I'm sending this out to the world. If you're listening world, I said cancer free please. And you know there's lots of prayers going out. We'll get there. This month of May is deemed David's Month. He's healing (alot), he's smelling (some), he's tasting (some) and most importantly, he's working on getting back to doing the things he loves to do. This is what brings oneself alive. He's finding his self again, after the physical and mental struggles that go along with cancer treatment. We know that strength is not the absence of struggles. It's what you build due to your struggles. 

David is his own hero

David is asking himself questions now, more than ever. What life does he want? What does he want to do in this life? What brings him the most joy and happiness? It's not about asking anyone else these questions. Just himself. He's looking to be in the Clean Plate Club. The place where you have nothing on your plate, and I'm not talking about food. That Full Plate Club of hustling with projects, deadlines, obligations and expectations tricks us into thinking we are falling short if our plate is not always full. No, cancer will knock that plate right off the table. It's time for new place settings. New plates.

Hey, Namaste, what about the yoga study

Oh yeah, that. The final survey for the yoga study program was just completed last week by David and I. To recap, David and I were placed in the "no yoga, survey only" category for which David was happy he didn't have to do any yoga. What this all means is, that we are emailed a questionnaire every week or so during treatment, and for 2 months after treatment, that ask things like: are you sad, are you still doing things, do you exercise and if so, how much each week, do you feel happy, and how much of the time do you feel happy, etc. I imagine they are comparing the answers of non-yoga people to those doing yoga - and see what the differences in are with yoga involved during treatment and recovery. A bonus was that each study you completed, you were given a $10 or $20 dollar gift card to Target. This type of study gives you insight (with the types of questions they ask) into what people might feel who are going through cancer treatment and recovery from it. Yes, luckily we are still Doing Things. Lauren even gave David and I ball hats that say so. Somehow, we feel like if we are still doing things, we are somehow okay. I'll take that.

Chicken O'Clock in Cluckingham

Newbie Spice

Spice is blending into the flock so wonderfully. And the 8 little chicks are doing better than any chicks we've ever had. 

Girl, Girl, Boy

I do have a silkie rooster who will be hand delivered to the feed store this week, as we just can't do roosters here. We've tried. But we know it's just not our thing. If needed, we'll borrow another silkie rooster if and when we need one. I can't remember if I said so, but the three white silkie teenagers have turned out to be 2 girlz and 1 boy. Once the boy leaves (they will sell him at the feed store) we will be back to an equilibrium of all hens. I mean, if God wants me to have chickens, let's do this. 50 chickens it is. I hoover around that number because chicken math makes it hard to nail it down exactly. Any more than that makes me feel crazy. Or look crazy. Or both.

The Beauty Queen of Cluckingham is and always has been Veronica. 

Picture a jeweled crown on her head

This girl is a bantum (small-sized) Brahma. Feathered feet, gorgeous feathers and coloring. She's small and feisty, and lays the tiniest eggs. For the longest time, I didn't know her breed until a chicken friend came over and enlightened me. Turns out Brahma's used to be considered a meat breed chicken until around the 1930's when they were appreciated more for their golden brown eggs. While only producing about 150 eggs a year might not seem like much, it's about 3 a week. You do you. 

Little Veronica gets dog bed privileges,
which includes pooping on it, I guess 

You know I think all my chickens are beautiful. It's just that Veronica has that X factor. There's something about her. She's won the beauty pageant every year since she's arrived. 

Since I'm getting to the end of the introductions, I've saved the most traditional for last. I'd call it a little like the Hatfields and McCoys, but it's not quite like that. Nobody is killing anyone over land or stealing someone's pig. It's more like a rivalry for leading ladies, songbird, if you will. Diva, prima donna. It's the Buff Orpingtons and Rhode Island Reds. These girls are always top guns around here. They are natural leaders. Yes, the cinnamon queens can be bossy, but these girls tie it up in a bow real nice. 

I'm going to start with the Buff Orpingtons because they are the breed I have the most of. Who knew, I have 7 of them. And because they look so much alike, I can't have a different name for each of them because it's really hard for me to tell them apart. I have one with a wonky leg, which seems to be improving, thank goodness.  

Nothing to see here

I tend to call them either Butter or Sunshine. Probably because the first two Orpingtons I ever got were named that. So, let's just carry that on, shall we. It's easier that way.

The major difference between these 7 girlz is where they sleep and roost at night. The 3 (above) are always on the mid-height railing in the barn. This breed is big and fluffy, with a sturdy body and poofy feathers. Their bright red combs stand out with their buff colored feathers.  

Night night 

This sweet girl loves sleeping inside the coop (see Pebbles back behind her?). I'm guessing they enjoy the warmth more, and maybe even feel more secure there. Hard to say as they've not told me yet. 

Thank you, Lauren for the coop art

This gal always roost and sleeps here. Always. She has since she was young, and she's actually inside the coop, but just up in the rafters perched there. I always know who's going to be where, as the chickens typically do sleep in the same places each night. 

Scurrying to finish her day, before beddie bye

Well, the exception to that rule is this girlie. Everyone in the barn is perched and in their place for the night, and no, not her. She's literally running. I think she's heading for that bedtime snack, if you ask me. It's easier to eat when everyone else is in bed, amiright. 

Doing her own thing

And then there's this ray of sunshine. She is the only chicken who does not sleep in the barn. No, she likes the Belle Tower out in the middle of the pasture. All by herself. Luckily, our guard dogs are on the prowl every night protecting as well as they can, so she's good. But really, why not with the others? Maybe she just gets sic n tired of them all, and by night fall, she needs to get away. She's that one that needs extra alone time. And you can, my sweets. 

The Buff Orpingtons are all strong willed hens. The are from British descent, and lay about 250 light brown eggs a year. They tend to be the unofficial matrons and have the temperament of a mother hen, yet with a gentle side. Somebody's gotta be mama bear around here. They give it their best shot to show a strong front and stay friendly at the same time. They are an all around great chicken for just about anyone. They adapt well and do their own thing. 

Let's talk Gingers. We are pretty low on Rhode Island Reds right now. I tend to lean that way, because these girlz like to be boss lady. They ping on the same frequency as the Orpingtons, except lean more towards the "I'm in charge" wave length. I currently have 4 of these Gingers and just like the Orpingtons, I tend to call them all Ginger because they too, look so much alike and have similar personalities. The fastest way to tell them apart is by looking at their combs. 

Your wearing me out with all that sitting 

This Ginger loves to roost in the egg laying area. Then, she gets broody, and stays. For weeks. Little does she know her eggs will not hatch, silly girl. But she sits anyway.

Young thang

Now this girl is the more adventurous of the crew of Rhode Island Reds. She's a younger girl with the most beautiful comb and waddle. She's first in line for treats, and has no problem jumping straight up into the air from a dead stand still on the ground and tapping your behind to remind you to feed her. If we had a basketball team, she'll definitely be the first to join the squad. Her vertical leap is impressive. 

Her spot

This beauty gets her same spot every night, and enjoys the roost in the rafters inside the coop every night. and just behind her, is her RIR bestie.

Sits close next to her frenemy Orpington

Interestingly enough, the Orpingtons and Rhode Island Reds tend to sleep together in the coop. They've been doing this for years now. The great thing about RIR's is that they are an avid egg layer, laying 260 brown eggs a year. They, unlike the Orpingtons, are an American breed and developed right there in Rhode Island. After all, they are the state bird there. Excuse me, a chicken can be a state bird. 

Redheads run deep in our family over here. So why not continue it in chicken form.

MDA blog

Recently, David and I received the rough draft of the blog posting for the MD Anderson website. Here's the copy that MDA sent to me for review, and will be posted on their site soon from what I understand. Side note: The way it works is you write the blog, then they have editors that make it even better. Pretty sweet.

** BTW, I think some of this initial information will be highlighted around the blog posting itself. I'll find out soon enough. This is what we received after I submitted my blog to them: 

Summary: After experiencing what he thought was a sinus infection, David Graves was diagnosed with sinonasal undifferentiated carcinoma. David and his wife Cyndi, also a cancer patient, found hope and healing at MD Anderson.

Pull Quote: “If you stay rooted in your being and not get lost in your mind, cancer is easier.”- Cyndi Graves, Survivor & Caregiver

Title: How we found our recipe of faith, hope and healing in our cancer journeys

 

By: Cyndi Graves

Before my husband David was diagnosed with sinonasal undifferentiated carcinoma, a rare cancer of the nasal cavity, he had the usual sinus issues many people have. He had a sinus infection, congestion and sinus pain and pressure. He thought it was allergies, but when the symptoms did not go away with antibiotics and steroids, he had a CT scan. The ENT suggested that David have surgery to remove the polyp blocking the entrance to his sinus cavity. 

On Nov. 20, 2020, David underwent surgery to remove what turned out to be a tumor in his sinuses. After surgery, his ENT recommended David see skull base tumor specialist Ehab Hanna, M.D., at MD Anderson, who specializes in treating patients with sinonasal undifferentiated carcinoma. We were told he was the best of the best, which turned out to be 110% accurate! 

MD Anderson coordinated all his appointments and treatments, which was very helpful since we were coming in from out of town and did not know what to do first. MD Anderson guided us through the process with ease. This took the burden off our family. 

Finding compassion and sinus cancer expertise at MD Anderson

The doctors, nurses and staff at MD Anderson were amazing. David saw them almost every day for seven weeks. They became his family. From the greeter to the screener to the receptionist to the radiation therapists to the nurses in the infusion room, he loved them all.  The doctors were wonderful and guided this symphony of cancer treatment. 

In December 2020, David arrived at MD Anderson to meet with his care team, including Dr. Hanna as well as medical oncologist Dr. Charles Lu and radiation oncologist  Dr. David Rosenthal. They determined that even though the tumor had been removed, David needed six weeks of chemotherapy and radiation therapy. 

Moving to Houston for sinus cancer treatment

David and I are from a small town in Texas called Gunter. We have a farm and were both working at the time of his diagnosis. Juggling cancer and our regular life was a thousand times better with the support of MD Anderson. 

In January 2021, we moved to Houston and stayed in an apartment for two months. David started radiation and chemotherapy in the same week. We arranged for caregivers to handle the farm while we were gone. Our daily lives changed drastically. 

David spent most of his time at MD Anderson and the rest of the time recovering and resting. He lost his smell and taste, and his salivary glands went on strike. His skin, from the neck up, would burn and crust. His sinus mucosal lining was destroyed to rid him of the nasal cancer. He lost some of his hair on his face and head, and experienced nausea and fatigue.

We learned what it was like to live with cancer treatment becoming the focus of our life. To help me manage my emotions, I blogged about our cancer experience. Together, David and I learned to accept this new season and realized that every day is a gift. 

Dealing with my own cancer diagnosis 

I, too, am a cancer patient. I have a type of blood cancer called polycythemia vera. It’s a blood disorder where the body produces too many red blood cells. It can be managed at first with medication and frequent blood draws. 

When David became a patient at MD Anderson, I transferred my care to MD Anderson and began having my regular monthly checkups there, too. I saw the magical Srdan Verstovsek M.D. 

It was a blessing to visit him regularly while I was away from my normal routine of monthly labs and visits until I returned to my local oncologist back home. 

Finding joy in everyday life

On Feb. 24, 2021, we returned home to Gunter. After David's cancer treatments, our life back on the farm is wonderful. As we travel this journey of cancer together, we do so along with millions of others doing the same. 

Our best words of wisdom would be to remain positive. If you stay rooted in your being and don’t get lost in your mind, cancer is easier. The recipe we used is a serving of hope and faith, with a pinch of humor. 

What we know for sure is that cancer is only a part of our life. Cancer can come along for the ride with David and me, but it doesn't get to ride shotgun. Cancer sits in the backseat!

And that, my friends, is it for today. I'm happy to be here to share blogs with you. I'm happy to be here to watch David move through his own journey. I'm happy to be here to hold and love Brooks and Lauren. I'm just so darn happy to be here and living. And I'm happy the softball is gone. The grace we are shown seems overwhelming at times. We are most grateful. And to add some icing to this cake we are eating, I'm into 4 of the 5 iron infusions now, and feel better than I have for a long, long time. It's sometimes hard to see how far down a rabbit hole you're falling when it's a slow descent. I'm out of that rabbit hole now and feeling great. Literally feeling great without shortness of breathe and fatigue. Can we keep that train going please. 

See ya next time,

Cyndi