Day 24 Field Trip

 

As David goes to MDA each day, he sees folks from all walks of life. He too has his ritual of parking, screened for covid each day, and makes his trek down the long halls and turns to arrive at his destination(s). As a patient there myself, I have experienced the majesty of the facility, but not the floors and departments he attends. Occasionally, David expresses concern that if he's not up to the trek on his own (nausea, fatigue) how does he go about getting assistance and/or who might push him in a wheelchair to his daily appt(s). Is family allowed to push patient's in their wheelchairs or do they provide him someone? So, we decided to make today the day we find out. After all, David is nauseated from chemo, so it's a good time to investigate this further. 

The Plan

David and I drove together to MDA for his radiation appt today at 8:25 am on this beautiful Wednesday morning. Since David has seen family pushing their loved ones in wheelchairs, we wanted to ask how this works, and under what guidelines. So, we walk in with burpy (cause that's one of chemo's favorite things to do to David) David at my side, and proceed to the covid screening desk where we begin to ask questions, and the MDA employee sees Burpy David and immediately provides David with a (throw-up) emesis bag, tissues and wheelchair offer. Although David could walk to his appt, the employee knows their fall precaution rules, and a wheelchair and emesis bag is offered/provided. From that point on, I'm declared the pusher of the wheelchair. They give me a "day pass" to get him to his radiation appt and off we go. David is thrilled about his emesis bag AND about being pushed to his appt because it's quite the trek to get to the Radiation Department. 8 hallways and 2 elevators later, we arrive. 

One thing I've failed to mention, and I think about it every day, all day, because it's so bothersome to David, is his right-sided inguinal hernia. Constipation and extended walking causes the herniated area to swell and becomes painful with a burning sensation. Unfortunately, the surgeon, Dr DeVilleneuve was not able to surgically fix his hernia prior to our departure for his cancer treatments because he would not likely heal well from it with going into radiation and chemo. Dr D asked David to come back after he's recovered from his cancer treatments and then he would need surgical intervention to correct the hernia. In the mean time, this hernia is his kryptonite. It's the bane of his existence during these hard days. Fast forward to being pushed in a wheelchair while nauseated and less bothersome for his hernia, and David is one happy guy. In addition, we were informed how to get David help to his appts each day - when assistance is needed. They allowed me to do so today, but in the future, they now know he is "on the list" of possibly needing assistance. This is the information we wanted to find out today. And David wanted to share his daily experience at MDA with me, even if it’s just one morning. 

I came to realize the main reason (besides the fact it was beneficial for him) that I was able to get a Pass into MDA today is because David knows these people at the covid screening location by name, and see him come and go everyday. They all know each other, and they want the best for their patients and allowed me to be with him today. And, they are super mindful about fall precautions, which is greatly appreciated by everyone. 

Even though David thinks he's SuperMan

He really needs to be careful. I pushed him down all the hallways, past the cafeteria (his favorite place in MDA) and arrived at the Waiting Room for his radiation treatment. 

Nice and quiet 

He was determined that afterwards, I would push him back to the cafeteria and we could have breakfast/brunch there. He lost a couple of pounds last week, so he's trying to keep his weight up (otherwise you get schooled). This is challenging when he can't taste the food. So now, he goes for texture and temperature. Because the Radiation Dept is a well-oiled machine, he was called back and then before I knew it, he's coming back out the door with his people. I then got to met Ashley and Danna in person. They are so cheerful and kind! They are incredibly modest, seemingly unknowing of the magnitude of their job - although we think about it every day. What they are assisting with is saving people's lives day in and day out. I very much enjoyed meeting them, and Danna showed me her favorite donkey rescue site, on her phone, and we each lovingly gazed at donkeys - as that's a common thread she, I and David have. We are all donkey fans. I mean, after all, we read books with our donkeys.  

Love these sweeties 😍

Okay, with radiation completed, and visiting with Ashley and Danna, we are off to David's favorite place, the cafeteria. Even though I'm behind him wheeling him along, I can feel the smile on his face of him not having to make the walk and trek today. And we were able to experience a day at MDA  - together. 

He literally could work here

Eggs and pancakes eaten, we enjoy the cafeteria and it is rather nice. It's just us, in this moment, realizing how fortunate we really are. Then, knowing that he has a Nutrition call coming up at 10:30 am, we decide to head back to the apartment for him to focus on talking to the Dietitian. Off we go again, and I'm pushing him down the halls and past the Gift Shop. We decide to stop for a quick pic together before we head to the truck. 

Soaking in these moments 

After rounding all the corners in the parking garage, we are back home jiggity jig. What a wonderful morning it was to be able to experience that together. Covid really makes it hard to do normal things like this. But today, it was a gift we were given. Nothing sneaky after all, just a opportunity to join David for a morning of MDA fun. It’s our new version of fun! 

No pity abyss

If there's one thing (and there are actually many) things that David and I agree on, it's that we prefer smiles and hugs (when it's not covid times) over pity. Pity is not our jam. Our philosophy is that we much prefer to do something with this struggle in a positive way to allow our strength some room to breathe. It's like having a mint after eating your Mexican food dinner. It's just what we prefer. And just like when I was 7 years old, eating at El Fenix, enjoying the Wed night special, my sisters and I each were allowed a mint at the check-out counter. And from then on, we did so, and it's forever ingrained in my head that I prefer a mint after I have Mexican food. Both David and I, somewhere in our formative days, learned to prefer strength over pity - and mints after Mexican food. 

David and I both agree on not grieving the loss of what was, but instead embrace the newness of what is. Sometimes I think that David is just flying through this treatment, and all my wildest nightmares have evaporated. But all along, what I know is that it's not David nor I in control. It's God carrying us through this. We have very little to do with David's success and everything to do with our belief and faith in God. Dr Pahlavan recommended a sermon from Gateway Church called "It's Not Safer In The Shallow" given by Pastor Michael Todd. 

https://gatewaypeople.com/sermons

After listening to his sermon, whereby he encourages us to go deeper in our faith and not stay in the kiddie pool/shallow end of our faith, I realized that when we do jump in the deeper waters, putting all your faith in God is what will see us through. We are kidding ourselves if we think we are swimming this ourselves. Sometimes God's blessings and grace are so strong and right in front of your very eyes, that it's overwhelming. And that's where we are. We are shown everyday the mercy of the good Lord, and want to share with others what this feels like. We are a witness to His work, and it even surprises us, even though we know we should not be surprised. You begin to wonder if you are worthy. And then I realize that's not what this is about. We are all worthy of God's grace and mercy, and we are in a position to be a witness to it. It's happening in our lives, right now, every day. And to speak as a witness is pure joy. 

Still good news

I'm happy to say that there's no bad farm news (or bad chicken news) this week. Whew! We are all a little scarred from last weeks chicken happenings, but over all, all is well.

I did get a call from the farrier who is taking care of our 3 mini horses at her place. She's recommending that we/she separate Faith (3 or 4 years old) and Hope (7 or 8 years old) from each other. Faith is the daughter of Hope, and they have yet to be "weaned" from each other. That's typically okay except that with Dora in the herd with them, they are ganging up on her, esp with their uncertainly in their new surroundings. I think this is a great idea, and to have all three minis on more equal footing would be fabulous. We will see what all this brings about. I have a feeling we will be shifting them around a bit when they come back to the farm. 

Missing my Dora

Time to wean 😃

And then, I get this text from David this morning...

I'm convinced that Brooke has somehow broken into his phone. But no. David is seriously considering getting a couple of mini heifers. He asked me to take a look at a couple of them on this site he texted me, and see what I think. I think I see more poop in the pasture.

Chemobrain must be getting to David. He wants cows, and I think he’s serious. For now though, he’s got more side effects going on than there are options at China King Buffet and I’m over here hanging on tight for this ride. And he’s asking for mini cows. 

Moving through it,

Cyndi