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So, our world has been a bit busy lately- so I apologize as I failed to share some WONDERFUL news with everyone.  During Dad's last appointment, Dr. Fleener discussed following up with other radiologists to determine what they thought this small "enhancement" could be- since it had not changed since our last MRI. And Tuesday Mom received a call from Dr. Fleener with information on their conclusion: They concluded that there is no cancer growth going on.  Oh how thrilled we are to hear that news! Dad just finished another round of chemotherapy, and will continue with another round of Avastin in a week. We will discuss another MRI at our next appointment with Dr. Fleener, but until then, we are taking it all just one day at a time.  I can't say enough wonderful things about Dr. Fleener, the staff, and nurses at the Cancer Clinic in Bryan. We have such an amazing relationship with each of them, and having Dr. Fleener personally call Mom helped to reiterate just that.  N...

Wednesday morning I had knee surgery. A surgery I've been putting off for about a month now. And honestly all day Wednesday, and most of yesterday, I sat looking at my knee, then looking at my crutches, wondering- why does this hurt if the laparoscopic incisions are so very small and why does this hurt more than BEFORE surgery?  Needless to say, it's day three and it feels much better already.  But I learned something- something that I thought I already knew, but now have an even greater appreciation for- my Mom is an absolute rock star.  You don't realize how much help you will truly need when you are faced with walking only with crutches- for example, how do I fill up a cup of water from the kitchen and bring it to the living room? Mom.  Or, how do I make dinner and sit down at the table to eat? Mom. The examples go on and on.  I can't even begin to describe what an incredible caregiver she has been to Dad throughout his battle- she's compassionate, carin...

In my last post I talked about how God has been speaking to me loud and clear recently, and when I pulled out my devotional this morning, I could help but just laugh. Yes God, I get it- you're coming in loud and clear. I would be lying if I said that MRI days get easier, that we are in a routine when it comes to receiving these results- but that is far from the truth. Each time is more and more stressful, as we are now 31.5 months post diagnosis.  We were given 14 months after Dad's tumor was found. We've more than surpassed what was expected- and that has a lot to do with the power of prayer! And our attitude of HOPE, instead of hopelessness, has had a lot to do with all of these "loud and clear" moments...like the one this morning.  "As you sit quietly in My presence, remember that I am a God of abundance. I will never run out of resources; My capacity to bless you is unlimited...living by faith, not by sight." By all scientific statistics, Dad's t...

Some days I want to just yell, "Yes God I get it, I'm hearing you LOUD and CLEAR." And this week, I've experienced that moment more than once. On Tuesday, I opened my devotional to read- "Thank Me for your problems." Apparently, God was doing a little foreshadowing, because the day ahead was one filled with many problems, and unfortunately, some tears.  I received a call Tuesday from Dad's doctor's office stating that Humana did not want to approve the MRI next week because it was too close to the last MRI, and instead schedule it in June. I'm not exactly sure at what point insurance companies became more knowledgeable than an Oncologist, but apparently that is the world we are living in. Many times involving the patient in these issues can make the approval process go much faster, and must smoother- and since I've experienced one, two, maybe 50 phone calls with insurance companies, Dad's doctor knows that I am more than willing to help w...

Yesterday, I felt as though I physically and emotionally hit a wall. You would think that I would be offended when someone says to me, "You look tired." But really, at that point it was all I could do to keep the tears from running down my face. Because I am tired. Emotionally tired. Physically tired. Overall I'm just tired.  It's been a long month. Heck, it's been a long 31 months since Dad's seizure. And some days, and even some weeks, are easier than others. But this last month has been one that has truly pushed me to lean on my faith, family and friends more than ever.  Not only did Dad's last MRI not look great, but lately he's been feeling just not good. I want so badly to take that pain away from him and do whatever I can to make him feel better- but there is honestly nothing I can do. So instead, I have to sit there during appointments and treatments as I hear him say and (very easily see on his face) that he's feeling down right miserable....