One Day at a Time

It's been a minute since I last posted, and while this blog can be therapeutic, lately, I have been living heavily in denial. But here I am now, ready to provide a not-so-exciting update. I am delighted to share that no news is good news.

Phillip has handled the addition of Avastin to his chemotherapy regimen like a champ. Unexpectedly, Phillip feels so much better now than when he was only on maintenance chemo - go figure. Always keeping me on my toes. One of the downsides to having Avastin back in is the deep worry I have that it may cause his hemoglobin to drop again. I have not fully recovered from the trauma of him collapsing in front of me and I am a bit on edge knowing he is back on this drug. However, his hemoglobin is sitting at a steady 9-10 and I try to keep reminding myself of this to chill out.

Another downside of the Avastin is that it adds an additional hour to our time at the clinic. Phillip and I have a growing aversion to the infusion suite lately, which may be in part, because we have been there nearly 20 times. The stark hum of fluorescent lights. The freestyle breathers sawing quietly in their recliners. The nurses shouting, "I need a chair side" every few minutes. All are nails on a chalkboard. This last round, there was literally a woman burping every so often, that was a new one for us. But that room, with all its noise and awful lighting is where Phillip gets better. So we manifest our patience, find his chair, and remind ourselves that this room is worth every bit of healing it is bringing.

Given the progression noted in the last scan, Dr. Tatineni scheduled Phillip to have another scan on April 20th, and this will help guide whether the second line of defense drug needs to be introduced. Please send all the positive energy that Avastin has shrunk the cancer and also halted any progression. The more options we have for as long as we can is critical to this journey.

In the midst of starting Avastin, we also traveled to Florida for spring break to visit my snowbird parents. Vacation Phillip is always living his best life. He found himself taking an afternoon siesta in the pool nearly everyday. This reaffirmed my request for a lazy river to run through our backyard.

We had a great week of fun and sun and treasured the time as a family. Our days included a backwater boat ride with dolphins, a trip to deep-sea fish, the Mote Aquarium, and many games.

The good days have been outweighing the bad days and I think that is all we could ever wish for on this journey. At our core, we both believe he is going to beat this and in 10 years time, we will look back and laugh, "remember that one time when you had stage IV cancer!? What a feat of strength!" And if there's any proof of who Phillip is, it's this: after hearing the news of new progression from the last scan, he looked at me and said, "Well, apparently running two Ironman races wasn't enough for me."

And that's him. And that's how we know he will beat this.

In the cruelty that life delivers without warning, we recently learned that one of Lenie's friends is no longer in remission. We sat our sweet girl down and broke the news that her "bus buddy" will no longer be on the bus because she is fighting cancer. Watching Lenie's doe eyes go soft with sadness broke our hearts. No child should have to carry this - not directly, or indirectly, not in any form. Please send prayers and positive energy into the universe for Lenie's friend, Camille.

No child should have to feel the impacts of cancer, but I have to believe something good will come from these experiences. That these hard, tender moments stealing Lenie's innocence will quietly shape her into someone with deepened compassion and kindness. That one day, she'll be the person who knows exactly what to say, or when to say nothing at all and simply show up. Cancer is a brutal teacher. But if it leaves anything worth keeping in its wake, let it be love.

"What an honor to know a love capable of altering something as big as the rest of my life. "

Please send all the good wishes for a positive scan on the 20th.

Love,

Kelley