And then the dog died...

Well it's been just over 6 months since we lost Steve. Much has happened. Most of it good. About a week ago I sat down to write a sort of reflection and I got distracted. Its was going to be full of the joys not the sadness of the last 6 months. I am still going to do that going forward - but not just yet.

In 2005, Steve gave me a dog for our anniversary. We didn't actually get her until September because we wanted to find just the right dog. I had some rules. I wanted a female (because I don't like the hygiene habits of males), and I wanted to get one from a shelter and give it a forever home. When we checked the website of the local shelter that receives rescues we learned that Wednesday was puppy day.Every Tuesday they would post pictures of dogs that would be available the next day. We checked for weeks and finally saw one that looked perfect. We had to bring all of the kids who lived at home to meet her. Unfortunately Steve was out of town. When we told him we found the dog his one request was that when she met him she would come up, wag her tail and lick his face. We all fell in love with her and when daddy got home from his trip she did exactly what he hoped for. The funny thing is that Daisy is not a dog who kisses and that was one of the few times she ever licked anyone.

We have loved Daisy these past 11 years and she has been a very good dog. Never destroyed anything, never messed in the house, she slept in her crate at night and was a generally great dog. Tuesday she was acting strange and vomited that night. Later she came and slept right next to my bed and stayed there all night. Very unusual. The next day she was eating a lot of grass and I hoped that would help her feel better. It didn't.In talking with a few fellow dog owners it was suggested that she might have Lyme.Thursday morning I called the doctor first thing. They couldn't see her until noon. I was anxious to have that test and get her medicine to make her feel better. Deep in my heart though, I knew that was not to be. By the time her appointment arrived, Adam had to carry her into the vets office. She was too weak to walk that far.She was running a fever of 104 and they could not get it down.We left her at the vet so they could do some diagnostic testing. Daisy was in so much pain it was difficult to do an ultrasound and she couldn't even swallow the Barium for the x-rays. It was not long before I heard the dreaded words "gastrointestinal cancer". It was December all over again. 
Kevin had come home from Idaho earlier in the day so the 4 of us headed back to the vet to say goodbye.In those few hours since we had left her she was even sicker. Her eyes told me she was done. They asked me if I wanted to stay until she was gone. I told them I had already done that once this year. I couldn't do it again. 

So on what would have been our 38th wedding anniversary, the family said goodbye to my gift on many years ago. Many people reached out to me knowing what day it was - not knowing the additional agony of that day. Thank you all. I see Daisy all over the house. I think of whether she needs fresh food, when did she last go out? If I leave I wonder if she will be okay in the heat. Our family is forever changed - again!
Goodbye Daisy. We love you!Now go find daddy and give him a big kiss - from all of us!

The Aftermath

When you lose someone dear, everyone swoops in and wants to help. They bring food and flowers and cards and more food. You don't want any of it. Well you do but you don't know it at the time. We arrived home to a house full of food, fresh sheets on the beds, extra beds for extra visitors - it was amazing and awful at the same time. Because what it really meant is that it was really real, not just a bad dream.

When I left Steve's room, I handed my cell phone off to one of the kids. I couldn't handle what I knew would be an onslaught of friends offering their condolences. Good news travels fast - bad travels even faster. By the time we were in the car Kimberly was fielding calls of people offering frequent flyer miles to bring Aaron and my sister home. It was amazing. I let the kids handle all the details and I just sat in the car dumbfounded. I knew what the diagnosis was. I knew he would leave. I just couldn't grasp he was actually gone. I felt like a robot whose batteries were running down.

The real 'fun' was just beginning. We had to plan a funeral, buy the necessary land, etc. I now understand why people do this before they need it. They want to spare their family the pain of having to do that in their grief. Steve and I believed we would do that once the kids were gone. Once he got sick, it was the last thing we were thinking of. I am immensely grateful to Matthew, Michael and Brian for doing all the 'heavy lifting' in that area. They spoke with funeral directors, the cemetery, chose the 'box', etc. I just could not have done it all without them.

Then there was the extended family. Steve has many siblings. Not all of them were able to attend but 5 of them did. It was very nice of them to take the time to be with us. I am not sure we were able to express it at the time though. We had just been through something very private and very painful. With the exception of Aaron, we really didn't want to see anyone else. Its hard to explain and sounds very selfish but that is what we were feeling. We just wanted to be with each other. Brian and Britta even brought their airbed so they could stay with us. Michael stayed too. We just needed to be with each other. We were able to stay in our cocoon for a few days but on Saturday people started arriving. I don't even remember who arrived when. Renee is Steve's oldest sister and she was a dear.She came with her daughter Amber. I am sure I largely ignored them but I knew they were there. Steve's twin brothers from California and his youngest brother from Texas (with a sweet daughter in tow) all arrived together. It was bittersweet for them because they had not been close to Steve in later years. They discovered that their brother was pretty awesome and they just didn't realize. I was very glad to reconnect with them though and we will continue to stay in touch. Steve's brother David also drove up from North Carolina. By the time he arrived I was pretty wrecked so I am not sure if I even talked to him.

Sunday afternoon we had a viewing of sorts. The first hour was just for the family. The older boys encouraged me to say goodbye one last time before they closed up shop. It was a good choice. Seeing Steve in his beautiful and sacred clothing replaced the picture of the shrunken man I had seen days before. Afterward the 'box' (I don't like the other word), was closed but people came to pay their respects. We had visiting hours from 2-5. I expected a couple dozen people. I underestimated the love and respect people have for Steve and for us. People were lined up in advance of the time and they never stopped coming in. We stood the whole time. I could not believe how many people from our little town were there; teachers, town officials, neighbors, former sports coaches and co-workers. It was incredible. Monday would be the toughest day yet.

Two Months

It has been sometime since I felt able to write. A week after my last post, Steve lost his battle with cancer. Today marks two months since his passing.Sometimes it feels like it has been so long - other days it feels like it was just yesterday... I will try to share what the last little while has been like.

One of the  things being talked about was moving Steve into hospice care. We talked with Steve about it Friday night and he understood all too well what it meant. Steve ended up having his Endoscopy on Monday not Friday. On Friday he was sure they were going to have some answers for him with that scan. But the weekend was long and he was just getting weaker. By Monday it wasn't really an issue for him not to eat or drink prior to the procedure, he wasn't that interested anyway. He had the scan and it simply revealed what we all knew. The cancer was doing its job on him. So what to do next?
We had some very special nurses caring for Steve. One in particular - Kristyn - was his most consistent day nurse and he really liked her. Tuesday morning she asked if she could be honest with me about her observations, I welcomed that. I felt like not enough people were being completely honest. She felt that Steve was not getting better and would I give her permission to talk to the team. ABSOLUTELY! She had been caring for Steve for 3 weeks and gave voice to what I already feared - nothing was working, we were treating symptoms but not making him better. He COULD NOT get better. As we talked to the team it was decided that we would stop pumping him full of fluid, stop filling him with antibiotics and just make him comfortable. no monitors, no blood draws, no poking or prodding. That same day the stake president dropped by and gave us both a blessing. Steve was very peaceful but seemed to have lost the ability to communicate.I could only read his pain level by facial expression.

I never left the hospital after Sunday. I was afraid to leave his side. That was a good choice. Wednesday evening there was a definite change and we felt the end was near. Miraculously all of the kids (except Elder Chidester) were back in town. So we all stayed with him that night, Talking, laughing, sharing memories and shedding some tears. We had great nurses who gave us blankets and pillows and staked out a conference room for some of us to sleep a wink or two. Zach and Britta made food runs so we didn't have to leave Steve's side. By noon the next day Steve was still with us so the twins went to their dentist appointment and the rest of the boys made a burger run. Kimberly, Stephanie and I stayed with Steve. After a while Kimber decided to serenade Steve with some Beatles tunes, After a few songs he was gone. January 14 is a day I will never see the same, My life was forever changed.

The rest of that day and the next few are a fog. I have never looked death in the face before and I hope I don't have to again for a few more decades. I will share more tomorrow,

Two steps forward, one step back

Today begins week 4 of Steve in the hospital. Not one of us, including the doctors, imagined we would still be here. Two weeks ago they had transitioned him to a pain patch instead of a pain medicine drip. But here we still are. The transition off of some of the stronger medications has not gone as well as planned. Steve was struggling with a bit of brain fog with so much on board. Unfortunately that fog made it seem as though his pain was more under control than it actually was. As we pulled back the pain meds and some of the other meds causing the fog, the ugly truth was revealed. The good news is that Steve's fog is mostly gone. He is clearer headed and is trying to do all the things the doctors want him to. The bad news is that reducing the pain patch was not the right move. And when the pain hits it sets off a chain reaction of other symptoms from sweating to nausea to dizziness, etc. And actually, because of the way they did the med switching they are not sure if the pain has increased or it was just being masked before. This is really tough to watch. One of the concerns is that there might  be more going on inside of him than meets the eye. They are going to do an endoscopy today or Monday. They need to find out just what the tumors are doing and if there is something else like an ulcer or something. I almost wish they would find something definitive-even if it is bad-so they can do something for him.
There have been a few sweet things in all of this. One of them was washing Steve's hair. He is pretty weak and so I was helping him get cleaned up. As I was washing his hair it was almost spiritual for me - this simple act. I was filled with so much love for this man I have spent the last 38 years of my life with. He has washed my hair for me over the years if I was very pregnant or recovering from a surgery. I always enjoyed it but this was even more sweet.
This week has not been easy. Two steps forward - one step back on most days. Still, we are surrounded by the love of family and friends. I brought the stack of cards and letters to the hospital today.I wanted Steve to know how much he is loved. He was overwhelmed. Thank you to all of you. We feel your prayers and your care and concern. It helps us through each day

Hopeful News

This past week has been a real roller coaster ride. One day they were preparing us for a downhill slide and the next they were exuberant at the littlest progress. Last week they started Steve on a new drug called  Octreotide to treat one of his major symptoms and it seems to be working - finally! They also believe they have got his infections under control. Still battling some fierce thrush but its slowly responding to treatment. Today the doctors came in pleased to see his organs finally responding to the treatments they have been prescribing. Of course the treatments change all the time and the med list is dizzying but it is slowly shrinking. Now the challenge is getting the rest of his body on board. He has been in a hospital bed for nearly 3 weeks and eating next to nothing so we have our work cut out for us.IF we can get him able to eat and IF we can get him up and walking and IF we can get all the retained fluid moving he might be able to go home next week, Those are the biggest ifs. There is still pain and nausea management that is ongoing and a few other lesser concerns but we are starting to see light.

Steve's prognosis is still not a good one but going home is a good thing for so many reasons. There is nothing quite like sleeping in your own bed - for starters. He would be surrounded by his family too which is always a good thing. And so much more.. So the immediate goals are strengthening and eating. Long term is becoming strong enough to withstand chemo again. His tumors are responding and if we can really kick their butt, he could start to feel really good again. That is something he hasn't experienced in quite a while. I would just love to see him smile again. That would be the best day this year. So I am embarking on project smile. Still working on the details...

Our ward at church split this weekend. It is bittersweet to see the changes but they are how we grow. I already feel supported though. Our brand new bishop of less than 12 hours came to visit us last night. I had gone home for the evening so it was perfect. He wanted us to know that he cared for us and that he would be looking out for my boys while I take care of Steve. That is a huge relief to know he is taking a personal interest in us while he has the HUGE task of staffing an entire ward. And he himself was at my house at 5:30 am picking my boys up for seminary since I slept at the hospital.

So I look at 2016 with hope. Hope that my husband can come home this month. Hope that he can regain some quality of life for however long the Lord has in mind. Hope that I can see him smile again. Along with that is the assurance that my family is loved and supported. Awesome friends and family have already surpassed what I could hope for and I know they are not done.

Of course it could all change tomorrow. Living with cancer is full of many unknowns but so is much of life. It's a wild ride!