More Mobility

I sometimes think about whether this life we are living now is the new normal.  I find that if I just think about the needs of  today, I am much happier.  It is when my thoughts wander too far ahead that I begin to get a troubled feeling that pretty much ruins my day.  

Ro has been much more able to get around.  He can do stairs, take out the trash, and today he even drove himself to the store.  I was surprised how protective I felt.  Of course he can drive by himself, I had to remind myself.  But, this afternoon he started languishing.  He didn't want to take a nap hoping that he would sleep longer at night.  I think sleeping when  he is tired is a great luxury that he can enjoy right now. 

I played Scrabble with him today because I know how much he loves it.  I am not a bad player, but when I play against him or MariLou or his Dad, I feel like English is my second language.  We didn't keep score, but we both know he creamed me.  

I am a little embarrassed to include this note of compliments from Roland, but he asked if I would.  See how sweet and appreciative he is! 

"A quick note from Roland:
A lot of good things have come from this blood clot/cancer episode in my life.  One is my increased appreciation for Shauna.  I’ve been home when kids come home and have seen what she does every day for them.  On top of what she does every day, she now has been driving me to the hospital daily and sometimes to St. George, and everywhere else I’ve needed to go.  She makes the meals. She helps make sure I am eating and drinking enough—even though I’ve been extremely picky about what I take in.  She arranged for the children to take turns being my cheerleader. She makes sure I am taking my medicines properly.  She has taken copious notes about everything I do and every way I feel every day.  She has maintained this blog for those who really care about what is going on.  She gives me injections every morning and night.  She stays on top of bills and most financial record keeping.  She is more beautiful than she has ever been.  She is the best communicator with friends and family that I know.  She likes to be with me.   She is pretty much everything to me.  I feel so lucky to be married to this amazing person."

PET Scan Second Opinion

We saw the radiation doctor after radiation today.  Roland's lungs sound good.   He can stand for longer periods of time without pain.  He even helped bring in groceries from the car today.  He much prefers radiation to Chemo, but most people do.  He even gained 3 pounds since last week which is good because he had been losing during Chemo.  The nausea is gone now.  His heartburn is still a bother, but flax seed tea helps.  We waited while the radiation doctor looked at the PET scan and read the notes.  After what seemed like a long time (we encouraged him to take his time), he said, "If you were my family member, I would treat to cure."  He agreed with the oncologist that it is stage 3a and not stage 4.  I cheered aloud.  If he thought it was stage 4 he would stop radiation, so I am so happy that we are continuing with radiation.  The next PET scan will be 3 months after the end of treatment.  We feel surrounded by a glow of gratitude for this wonderful news!

Our Wheelchair Walk

We decided to borrow the cancer center wheelchair and go on a little walk around the hospital campus.  This way Roland could walk holding on to the chair for balance as far as he wanted to and when the pain in the back of his knee became too much, he could just sit in the chair for a while.  It was a beautiful sunny day and the whole walk lasted about fifteen minutes.  The little boy within couldn't resist taking a ride down the slight incline of the path.  :)

Chicken and the Mole

I don't know what happened to this post, but here is the video anyway.

Our New Game: What Will the Picky Eater Eat?

Roland has never in all our years of marriage requested any particular kind of food unless I begged him to do so.  I get a little smile in my heart when I can figure out what he might like and then get it right.  Now, it is subtle to know, but over the years I have honed the art of knowing the difference between a "Thanks that was great" after dinner comment and a "Thank you that was great" after dinner comment.  There is some inflection and some body language nuances that tell me that I made him a meal he really likes.  But, for the most part I have had to conclude that for Roland food is food.  (Of course there was that one time when Joanne Dortch brought over a meal when I was recovering from having a baby or something and he didn't know that I hadn't made it and I didn't know he didn't know.  He raved for an unusually long time about how delicious it was.  hmmmmm?  Thanks Joanne, I liked it too.) So his esophagus is pretty tender from the radiation.  This is how I try to get him to eat something:

S:  How about some apple sauce?
R: Nah
S:  Can I make you a smoothie?
R: Uh, well, OK, but no citrus, and no berries and...
S: How about a grape juice slush?
R: Nah
S: Something with milk?
R: If it is skim milk.
S:  With ice?
R:  OK as long as it is blended well.
S: Anything else in the smoothie?
R: Uh...
S: How about something sweet like honey?
R: OK, honey and a little peanut butter.
S: Got it.

This is the game for every time he eats.  What do I think about this?  I LOVE it!  Finally after all these years I know exactly what he wants to eat. (heart smiles)  The blender has been his friend. (puree soups)  He has also taken a liking to S. Pellegino water which is so funny to me because it is so NOT Roland to have "special" food or drinks.

Because of his selectiveness and his anti-nausea medicine, he has felt the best digestively today.

Adventure Beach

 When we lived in Saipan, our house had a jungle behind it and beyond that was the ocean.  Roland decided to hack through the jungle with a machete so that we could have a trail to the ocean.  This took months to accomplish.  He marked the trees so he would be able to find his way home after each day's journey closer.  One day he invited me to accompany him. It was exciting to see all his hard work and enthusiasm for his project. When we reach the point where he left off, he showed me how he wielded the blade and marked the trees.


Then, the jungle was opened and together we saw the splendor of the ocean.  He didn't know at the time that this would be the last day of labor and we would have this experience together. We continued on to the very small beach which gave us access to the ocean.  Later with the children we named it "Adventure Beach".  We had many walks through the jungle to Adventure Beach.

This recent news which I am trying to ignore reminds me of Adventure Beach.  There was a rocky coast line where we would sometimes explore and find hermit crabs for hermit crab races.

 These were happy times with the children and their friends.  What we didn't know until later is that this is the perfect location to get swept out into the ocean by a "sneaker wave". 

                             

 A sneaker wave is an unusually large wave that suddenly and unexpectedly comes.  Here is a picture of Eden looking toward the beach.  She is in the perfect position to be whisked away by such a wave. Obviously neither she nor we knew she was in danger when this was taken.

Fortunately no sneaker waves came to Adventure Beach while we were there and after we learned about them, we took precautions to prevent this possible danger.

I was not as prepared for the sneaker wave yesterday.  I had almost forgotten that we are climbing a tough path.  I was seeing all the beauty of the hike and appreciating the help we have been receiving like Roland's clearing the path with the machete for me.  Today I am clinging to the oncologist's words of encouragement and to the comfort of prayers on our behalf.  Roland reminded me that we knew all along that something could go wrong, but I was not in that headspace.  This might be a good example of how we think differently. He is taking the news much better than I am.

Roland is starting to feel a heartburn feeling deep in his esophagus. (He takes medicine for this)  Non-acidic fruits or milk sound good to him.  He has restless leg symptoms so he doesn't sleep through the night.  He makes up for it during the day. When he is not sleeping, he has been organizing files for the book he has wanted to write for years. Today he started to hear off and on ringing in his ears (Tinnitus) which is a side effect of the Cisplatin Chemotherapy drug.  This can be permanent, but we hope not.  About every ten minutes when he is awake, he tells me how much he appreciates me.  He can stand or walk with his foot turned out for about sixty seconds at a time before he needs to sit down and elevate his leg.  This makes him more independent.

PET Scan Results Are in

For some reason, I haven't really been thinking about the scan results.  I have just had a good feeling about it and the current treatment plan.  So when the oncologist showed us the scan on her computer, I was surprised to hear what she said.  The radiologist in St George described in the scan notes areas of "concern" indicating stage 4 (In lung cancer this stage is incurable).  I didn't cry.  I didn't really react at all.  She disagreed with the notes.  Ideally the scan should have been done prior to the treatment, but since we didn't have pre-approval then, we had to do it now.  She didn't see anything unusual.  She attributes what was described as areas of "concern" to Roland's body reacting to the Chemo already in progress and the PE (Pulmonary Embolisms or blood clots in his lungs).  She wants to proceed with the treatment plan for a cure and re-scan a few months after treatment when the Chemo is completely out of his system. She is also talking about two more rounds after these first two rounds.

The radiation doctor has yet to weigh in on this.  He may want to discontinue radiation if he thinks it is stage 4 because radiation is ineffective and unnecessary at stage 4 since it is not curable anyway.  If Roland is at stage 4 they will do what they can to make him comfortable and radiation is not comfortable.

Since leaving the hospital, I have had a little cry about this, but I take comfort in knowing we are doing something to treat him right now.  I can't know if it is working yet, so I am not going to think about that.  It has been a tough day and I am not really wanting to talk about it much.  I prefer to keep my mind back in the stage 3a days.  Since the oncologist is there, I am trying to be too.

On a brighter note, Roland looks healthy and has color in his face again.  He even walked into the treatment center instead of his usual wheelchair travel.  His mind is clear and though he is still tired most of the time, he is happy and quick witted.  The doctor is impressed with how well he is taking the medicines.  She reiterated that she is hitting him hard with Chemo.  Roland is tough.

Round One Complete

I am getting good at wheelchairing Roland.  We have a system where he hits all the auto open door buttons.  He had almost no puzzle time before being taken to radiation  which will continue for six more weeks.  It is so exactly directed that his side effects have been inconsequential.  We hope that will continue.

The nurse had to try to find a good vein.  The one on his hand from Friday's PET scan suddenly got puffy and bruised this morning, so that wasn't an option.  She tried the other hand, but it didn't work at all.  That was painful.  Now he has a matched set.  Fortunately today's IV only needed to last for today.  The location was close to his hand, but on his arm.  The only trouble was that his hand felt cold the whole time and when he dozed off he dreamt he had "chicken hands".  He got his last dose of Chemo.  He looked so pale and listless.  He has had a lot of rest today. 

His hair looks a little thinner.  We thought he would be losing his hair for sure soon, but we have since learned that he might not.  I guess the plan to let the boys give him a mohawk is on the back burner.

Round two is March 11th, but for now he is enjoying a break from that daily "toxicified" feeling.

A Walk to the Park

His thigh swelling is completely gone, but he still has one "fat calf".  There is considerable pain behind his knee when standing or sitting with this leg hanging down.  Nevertheless he has become considerably more independent.

There is a park about three blocks from our house.  All the kids went there to play some "knock out".  (This game with two basketballs has other names.) 

Roland wanting to get some exercise and enjoy the beautiful sunny day decided to take some pain medicine and go to the park and watch on his day off from Chemo and radiation   I thought he wouldn't want to stay long and I wasn't sure how strong he would be.  We drove the first two blocks and he only needed four lay-on-the-sidewalk breaks while walking the last block, but he made it.  Since the snow had only recently melted, lying in the grass seemed like a bad idea.   The benches were also wet.  He opted for the dry concrete path.  That looked miserable.  Tikla and I went back to the house for comforts: a folding chair with a foot rest, a warm jacket, a down comforter, a beanbag chair, a sleeping bag, snacks, and drinks.  He enjoyed the fresh air and the entertainment. 

The pain medicine didn't help.   He rode back in the van and had a hot bath to take off the chill when we got home.

My Hot Husband

After Chemo and radiation, we drove to St. George for the PET scan.  It's a good thing we were early because we first went to the new hospital, but our appointment was at the old hospital.  I got to stay with him until after the radioactive isotope was in his system at which point the nurse said I needed to leave because she referred to him as "hot" (meaning radioactive)  Roland, not missing a beat, interjected, "finally!"
Here he is being "hot", relaxing with a sugar free drink and a hot pink wristband.

My Valentine

My Valentine

He gets his peripheral IV wrapped after all the medicine is drained into his veins.  Today as a Valentine "treat", he got a red cover to hold it in place.  His nurse was very attentive and sweet. We found out that the PET scan appointment was changed, but it is still tomorrow, so the great nurses were able to rearrange everything to keep him on schedule for Chemo and radiation.  He is still feeling awful. He is losing weight because he doesn't have an appetite.  His water tastes terrible. He can only eat meat and veggies today in preparation for the scan tomorrow.  I suggested we float some cucumbers in the water to change the flavor since we can't flavor it with fruit, but he didn't like that either.  He thought bell pepper strips dipped in peanut butter sounded good, but when he tried it he said, "Do we have any celery?"  We did.  "I think celery would be better and I can eat these peppers without peanut butter."  Obviously his taste buds are changing.  He can't believe how slowly this week has gone.

A mystery envelope arrived at our door from a kind friend who said someone else gave it to him to give to us and he didn't know what it was.  It was a gift card for gasoline.  Yay!  Just in time for our trip to St. George.  The Decker's left a treat for Valentine's Day on our front porch.  The "Valentine Queen" came and brought surprises for all.  Roland made me this sweet card.

The fine print reads, "This is a picture of my heart."

The adult kids video-called us and opened their Valentine box with us looking on.  We feel so loved.  They are coming this weekend and Austin and Tikla are going to take care of all the meal preparations.  Wow!  

Clearly the blessings keep stacking up and we are so appreciative.  My sickness that I am definitely NOT having is already going away. :)  That's convenient because tomorrow is going to be a LONG day.

Green Light on PET Scan

Look what arrived in the mail from Aimee and Eric's family with a sweet note.  Thank you!  Isn't it great to celebrate Valentine's Day with homemade decorated cookies!  I put the package in the fridge until after dinner then when I put them on a plate, I noticed that one of my kids must have snuck a nibble.  :)  Oh yeah!  They are irresistible.

Today we got the go ahead on the PET scan.  It seemed too late to me, but the oncologist said to get it ASAP.  So Friday is the day.  This means another trip to St. George and no carbs or exercise tomorrow.  Since Roland doesn't really want to eat anything or move at all, this won't be a challenge for him.  Even though he doesn't want to, he IS still eating. In simple terms, the contrast he will drink for this scan is sugary and the cells that like sugar the most are cancer cells, so this contrast will show up in higher concentration where the sugar is and therefore where the cancer is.   To help with this process, he cannot have sugar already in his system.

He hops/limps around now holding on to the furniture and walls.  He can't fully straighten his left leg without a lot of pain, but he is trying to stretch it.  He deemed the crutches unsafe because he is dizzy and might fall and since his blood is thin, falling poses the potential for possible internal injuries.  He is a little grumpier than I am used to, but he is normally so cheerful that it is easy to handle.  Even though he feels pretty terrible, he still finds ways to thank me and appreciate me. He is supposed to drink a lot to flush the Chemo out of his system and to protect his kidneys.  I thought he might like it if I made some watermelon/mint/ginger in the blender.  It sounded good to me and I know he loves watermelon.  He thought about it and decided he would rather have a hunk of watermelon and a spoon.  I complied, but watermelon isn't in season, so it wasn't a nice sweet, crisp one as he had hoped, so he let me blend it into a drink. He wanted a touch of cinnamon and I sweetened it with a little white grape juice concentrate.  Winner!  Whatever it takes to keep him drinking.  He is totally off pain meds.  When the oncologist heard this, she told him to get back on them so he can walk.  She wants him to exercise his legs.  He isn't very motivated.  Hmmmm?  I am thinking of ways to encourage this.  I think some simple slow dancing in the living room might be just the thing.  That way if he gets dizzy, I can be his support. Any other suggestions?

I am NOT sick because I just can't get sick.  I just have a little scratchy throat and a sniffle that is going to be gone with this very reasonable headache in the morning because I am drinking lots of fluids and washing my hands frequently.   I use the "germ machine".  (That is Roland's term for the pump dispenser of hand sanitizer.)  I was able to rest today because my visiting teachers brought over a meal--make that a feast--for the family.  What a relief!

Mardi Gras

The Patient Patient, Waiting for Chemo

Roland is sporting a Mardi Gras necklace, but he doesn't look or feel like celebrating.  His main concern is that we are not thanking all the nice people who have shown their love.  He received a hand made lap quilt in his favorite colors.  He would love to thank whoever donated it to the cancer center.  He got up this morning with a "to do" list, but he is just so tired that he doesn't ever get to it.  His leg is feeling a lot better.  He doesn't crawl or drag his legs behind him.  Instead he uses crutches.  The radiation doctor showed us the plan.  It looked pretty complicated on the computer screen and managed to avoid the parts of his body that don't need to be targeted.  He even said that Roland wouldn't have the side effects of tender/irritated skin because his skin wouldn't be too exposed nor dry mouth.  He can expect to have a sore/inflamed esophagus, since it is so near the nodes.  This means he will need to eat soft, cool foods for a while.

The Puzzle in the Waiting Room

Chemo Adventure Begins

Day one of Chemo included lots of precautionary meds to counter nausea and unpleasant reactions. It took about five hours.  The infusion room had some recliners, but since his leg is still painful, he was given the only private room with a bed.  He liked that special treatment.  He feels a little woosy, but so far so good.  He has noticeable improvement in the left leg.  The swelling has gone down. Unfortunately the muscle mass in his right leg has also noticeably decreased.  He has reduced his dose of pain medicine, but it is working.  He is thankful for the pre-meds because they are working to counter the nausea, and headache.  He doesn't feel like he is suffering too much.  Foods are starting to taste like metal.  Tomorrow starts radiation therapy.  He will lose his chest hair from the radiation treatment, but he will lose all his hair because of the strong Chemo.  Jay wants him to learn the "Veggie Tales" song with these lyrics:

  I'm a bald bunny, don't got no fur.

I'm a bald bunny, brrr, brrr, brrr.

Jay also made and installed a hand sanitizer station at the garage entrance to the house, so the children coming home from school can disinfect.

Tikla shared this comic with him since he has done so much teaching.  Roland loves Calvin and Hobbes.

We have so many things to be thankful for.  A friend in our ward family told me when we first found out about this "adventure" that as we hike this difficult path that there are many in the ward who will want to scythe the way.  I had no idea how true this statement would turn out to be.  Our neighbor to the West regularly snow plows our driveway.  Two others have lent us their cars while ours is in for repair.  (Someone drove it to the shop for us.)  Cookies on plates arrive at the door.  Delicious home cooked meals have been brought. Cards, flowers, gifts and drop-in visits to bring cheer.  I feel like I have so many phone numbers of family and friends I could call for help with whatever I might need at any time of the day or night.  My heart is full of love for these wonderful people.

Friday Night Entertainment: Sledding?

Tori came to visit and we wanted to watch a movie all together, but that meant we needed to get Roland downstairs.  He is not able to walk or use crutches because it is so painful when his leg is below his heart, so this is what we decided to do.  Coming back up, he held onto the railing and leading with is left leg straight up, he pulled his body up one stair at a time.  The next day, Roland suggested we all try doing it for a family activity.  Reece timed us as we all took turns pulling ourselves up the stairs.

The Seven Week Adventure

We thought this was going to be a "rest up" day.  The only thing on the agenda was me representing Alex's mom by bringing a cake that we made last night together shaped like the Korean flag and escorting him at the high school Most Preferred assembly.  Roland is worried about becoming weak from not being able to move, so we did some exercises with hand weights and resistance bands while he was semi reclined.  Then it was time for a nap, but that was a short lived plan.  The nurse at the cancer center called and asked us to come right away.  Roland was supposed to have a B12 shot before beginning Chemo and radiation on Monday.  He moaned, but slowly prepared to go.  He made it to the front door, but needed to lay on the floor for ten minutes to rest before he could finish the trip to the car.  Once we arrived, he asked if he could wait in the car until there was an available place to lay down in the center.  I went to check on that and the helpers there said they would be happy to bring the shot to him in the car so he wouldn't have to move.  The  nurse intervened to say that the doctor had called and she had been thinking a lot about Roland's treatment plan and wanted to change it to something more tedious because, "He is so young and healthy."  Therefore he would not need the shot after all.  I tried to convince him that the exercise getting in and out of the car was probably good for him.  He wasn't really buying that.  What he did like was that the doctor doubled his pain medicine dosage.  I pulled into the garage and he managed to get out of the car, but lied on the concrete for about 20 minutes before gaining the strength to move to the hallway entrance.  He rested there for about 15 minutes and then dragged his legs behind him using his arms to get to the recliner.  The pain is intense when his legs are not above his heart--elevated.  He could finally rest.

Once I got him comfortable, I looked ahead to dinner for the family.  I looked in the fridge and asked myself, "What am I going to make for dinner?"  I knew I needed to pick up a prescription and some other errands and wouldn't have much time.  Within 10 minutes the doorbell rang.  It was a delivery guy with hot pizzas from Madison  S. with a sweet note on them.  She totally called that one!  Thank you Madison  especially from all the hungry teens.

The new Chemo plan is seven weeks long. That is one week for each of our children.  He wants to dedicate each week to a different child in age order.  February 11- 17 is Tikla and Austin's week.  Feb. 18 - 24 is Skylar's etc.  He didn't ask for this next idea, but I think it would be nice if during your week, you could be his cheerleader and spirit lifter and encourager (It doesn't need to be fancy: send him an email, call him and sing him a song, or whatever your style is or whatever feels right)

I wish he could feel a little better before getting started on something that is going to make him feel terrible, but maybe this way he won't notice a big change.

We Have a Road Map!

Roland was not happy to have to travel again today, but the trip to the cancer center was informative and productive.  He was in a wheel chair or lying down most of the time because moving around makes him nauseous. The radiation doctor prepared him for radiation treatments by scanning him and tattooing him (nothing fancy or artistic--just dots) so he can know exactly where to direct the radiation.  When the oncologist saw him, she was taken aback.  She prescribed a stronger pain medicine.  Yay!  And she gave him some medicine for nausea.  She explained the Chemo that he will be receiving and said he can start on Monday with the radiation.  Wow!  I thought we would have to wait for the leg situation to get better first.  That is a blessing.  There are lots of instructions for me and I am still trying to figure out all the things I need to do.  I have alarms set to give him his different medicines and shots on time.  I am keeping a journal of what he takes when and how he is feeling.  I am taking his temperature and keeping him hydrated and fed six small meals a day.  The new medicine makes him really "out of it" and he doesn't have much of an appetite, but he is supposed to be eating and drinking.  I admit that I am stressed out about caring for him and he hasn't even started Chemo!  The course of treatment is designed to last 2 months, but I am supposed to just try to get through today.  I am happy even though this is hard.  I don't feel alone and we know where we are going with this.

Hat Trick Day

Since he had three appointments in one day we are calling this our Hat Trick day. It was so painful just getting him in the van.  I was so happy to discover the valet parking service in St. George. I snagged a wheel chair so he didn't have to try to walk which is extremely painful.  Two of the doctor appointments were with a cancer surgeon and a vascular surgeon.  Both of them said, "no" to surgery.  I guess that is good.  Here are their explanations:

Cancer at Roland's stage with Chemo, Radiation, and Surgery has shown the same results as Chemo and Radiation without surgery, so why cut on him?

We thought the painful DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) in his left leg could possibly be cured with surgery to remove the clots, but the vascular doctor said he has seen this kind of thing before and better results have come from just playing the waiting game (two to three weeks!) while taking blood thinners (now with increased frequency).  He said it would be even more painful to have the surgery and could result in further damage and clotting.  That was convincing enough for Roland who is nauseous from the pain when he has to walk even with crutches and pain medicine.  He is wearing a compression stocking in a lovely tan color the length of his whole leg.

Then we got painfully back in the van and to the radiation doctor.  He explained the side effects we can expect.  I cried.  Roland had a "whatever it takes" attitude.  Tomorrow we will do radiation simulation therapy where they map out and mark his body so the radiation can be directed to exactly where it is needed  (lung tumor and lymph nodes) and not to where it is not needed (heart, spine, esophagus).

It is looking like the road map is Chemo and Radiation together, but it might have to wait until the DVT is reduced. Tomorrow we will meet with the oncologist again and we hope she will give us an idea of when this will all start.

I think he needs stronger medicine, but he rationalizes that it is only painful when he has to move around.  Hmmmm?

I asked him what he wanted to do tonight to distract him from the pain and I suggested Scrabble, or a movie at home or something like that.  He said, "What I really want to do is help the substitute by finishing making a quiz for my students to take tomorrow and correcting papers."  Wow, we really think differently. That's OK.  I am comforted that he won't be teaching tomorrow.

My favorite part of today was washing his hair, bedside this morning and massaging his feet while waiting for doctors.  I think he was happiest during those two times of the day.

Looking on the Bright Side

As I mentioned, Roland wanted to see Annie, but couldn't.  We received a call today asking Roland if he would like to have Annie from the show sing to him at his house.  Roland was so happy.  The star of Annie, one of the orphans (her sister), and the piano player (her dad) from the pit orchestra came to our house and sang with piano accompaniment "Maybe" and "Tomorrow" (great, timely message in that song).  We were both touched by their thoughtfulness and especially the singing.

I received a letter of encouragement from my brother who suggested that Roland tell the stage 3 cancer to exit his body, stage right! (or left)  :)

We have had many offers to help us out.  People have brought meals or cookies to our home. They seem to arrive on days when I am so physically and emotionally exhausted that the plan for dinner would have otherwise been make your own PB and J.   It is a great comfort to have a good meal for our family when I don't have the strength to prepare something. Not to mention the relief of the "care taker" being cared for. The children are also amazed at the kindness.

Tikla brought cute "Ground Hog Day" chocolate cupcakes to celebrate February 2nd.  See the little almonds for ears.  There is whipped cream under those shortbread cookie toppers.

The children all sang in spontaneous harmony together.  There is no better sound. (except Roland's soft breathing!)  We played games, got silly and laughed together.

During times like this, drawing strength from each other by spending time together is a great spiritual uplift.  We talked about trusting and proceeding with confidence if we know we are doing the right thing.  We talked about our different strengths and how to strengthen our weaknesses.

Paul, Lisa, and Christian visited and brought their cheerfulness and a health drink we can make called Kefir.

We have so appreciated the visits and calls and general outpouring of love and concern. Truly prayers are being answered in surprising ways big and small.

Ambulance Adventure

The swelling got worse on Saturday and the pain gradually increased, so he went back on pain medication and kept his affected leg elevated.  Our adult kids came Friday night and Saturday for Ground Hog's Day.  Roland really wanted to see the Community Theatre's production of Annie, but he could just hobble on crutches even with the medicine.  I did not want to leave him alone, but he insisted I go and since some of the children would be with him to take care of his needs, I decided to bring the children who wanted to go (to please Roland and to get my mind off his care for a while).  When I arrived home at 10:30, I found him in the bathtub writhing, moaning and cringing, his leg swelling worse.  There were wet towels around, so it appeared he had unsuccessfully tried to get out of the tub.   My first thought was, "Why did I leave him?  This was followed by, "Why didn't he call me?" I wish I could report that I calmly did all the right things.  Instead I asked him a lot of questions about how I could make him comfortable.  He wanted to get dried off and in bed, but he couldn't do that unaided.  We decided to drain the tub.  He was panicky.  (He doesn't get panicky. ) He asked for lots of things at the same time.  (He rarely asks for anything. ) I knew it was time for his Lovenox, so I gave that to him in the tub.  As soon as he was in bed, I called our home teachers. I wanted him to go back to the ER and I didn't think I could get him in the van without some help and our van's heater doesn't work.  I hoped they could drive him to the hospital in a warm car.  He was anxious about getting pneumonia (He had a shot for this already) and could not get warm.  He felt quite warm to touch.  (fever 102 point something) When our home teacHers arrived (what a blessing that they both have medical backgrounds), we decided it was unsafe to move him in case the clot would dislodge and cause more complications, so I called 911.  After lots of paramedic questioning and checking him and wires and beeping sounds, he was carefully gurneyed up and given morphine in the ambulance.  After calming down the children and assuring them that Dad was getting the best possible care, I gathered a set of clothes (He left in just a hospital gown), and went to the ER.  He looked relaxed.  After a while they had his pain managed and care instructions given to me.  (I think I should have a few nursing credits by now!) I was able to bring him home.  He was able to get in the house using crutches.  I set alarms to be able to give him medicine through the night.  My new favorite sound is Roland's soft breathing.  It is music to me.