Infusions and Ink

This past Monday marked Phillip's 12th round of chemo. The arsenal of medications that his body has tolerated the past six months has been intense, but he still has been persevering through it all. We walked into Monday's appointment seeing a glimmer of light at the end of this hellish tunnel knowing "maintenance mode" would kick off at round #13.

However, any positivity we carried was quickly diminished when we learned Phillip's hemoglobin was again at a critical level (6.8) and this would require another blood transfusion. None of this made any sense. Phillip was loading wood, shoveling snow and doing all the outdoor chores over the holiday weekend. To have a 6.8 hemoglobin just couldn't be right, especially since his internal bleeding has been resolved. Besides shock, it also added another layer of anxiety for me. I still haven't gotten over seeing him collapse a few weeks ago, and the worry that it might happen again is now constantly lingering.

Due to Phillip's low hemoglobin, Dr. Tatineni chose to give his body a rest this week by removing Avastin and Oxaliplatin from this round. The silver lining in this decision is that it cut 2.5 hours from our time at the infusion clinic on Monday.

Our conversation with Dr. Tatineni also left us spinning with more questions than answers. Phillip and I operate best on a plan and right now we do not know what the plan moving forward entails. All in all, Monday was really hard and not what we expected and I have been reeling since. The uncertainty that looms is causing significant fear, and its impact is even more pronounced at the moment. A CT scan is planned for this Friday, adding another level of stress. Our current focus is to just make it to Friday, and hoping the CT will provide direction for the next steps.

Prior to the haze and sadness of the last few days, we celebrated the holidays and our sweet Emalene's 8th birthday. As some of you may know, Phillip and Lenie watch F1 races together whenever they are broadcast. It has become one of their "things" and Lenie will literally cry if Phillip watches a race without her. They are quite the pair on Sunday mornings as they watch races cheering and talking driver strategy. It melts my heart. For her birthday, we decided to surprise her with a trip to a F1 race to see her favorite driver, Max Verstappen, on his home track in the Netherlands next August. Lenie's surprise made it all worthwhile and we can't wait for this core memory next summer.

Alongside celebrating Lenie and creating these joyful memories, Phillip and I have also been having deeper conversations and what we want to carry with us through everything that’s happening. After Phillip received his diagnosis, we started talking about getting tattoos together. We’ve spent time brainstorming, wanting something meaningful and personal while avoiding cliche symbolism. A few months ago, Phillip suggested we watch Interstellar. I told him I’d seen it years ago and remembered being completely lost because concepts like time travel and space have always felt a little beyond me. But eventually, I agreed to watch it again with him.

Seeing it a second time was an entirely different experience. Whether it’s a result of spiritual growth, deeper empathy, or the emotional lens we now see life through, the story suddenly clicked. I found myself moved to tears and wearing a soggy sweatshirt on Friday movie night. The father–daughter relationship was beautiful, but what stayed with me most was the film’s message that love can transcend time and space and that no matter what happens, love remains an unbroken connection.

Sorry for the spoilers, but the scene where the father sends messages to his daughter through Morse code so he can “stay” with her hit me especially hard. It felt like a reminder that love finds a way to reach us, even across impossible dimensions.

Today, Phillip and I had the word "Stay" in Morse code tattooed on our arms.

Tattoos or not, I know our love will always transcend space and time. He is the greatest love I will ever know and the strength of that is bigger than anything cancer could ever invade.

Please send all your positive energy, thoughts, and prayers into the universe for encouraging scan results this Friday.