2021's Curveballs: Cancer, Covid and Chemo, plus a lot to Celebrate

Cancer

Life can change in an instant. Just before Christmas last year, my husband went to the ER in excruciating pain. A few hours later, he was diagnosed with cancer and had an appointment two days later for the initial surgery. The surgery was a success and the pain was gone, but the next steps were uncertain. His cancer is what the oncologist calls "a win" -- it is cured 98% of the time. But the cure involves aggressive rounds of chemo and in my husband's case, a more invasive surgery. Though the future was uncertain, I felt incredibly blessed that I never worried that my husband would die of cancer. I consider modern medicine a miracle. Thirty years ago, this cancer was a death sentence.

DH asked for some photos before he lost his hair.

Cancer during the Covid Pandemic

For almost a year, our family had been incredibly careful in order to protect the vulnerable from getting covid. We didn't consider ourselves especially at risk of severe disease, but because there were twelve people living in our home, we knew we were at very high risk of catching and spreading the virus just because of the sheer number of contacts we had. As we prayerfully considered how to reduce our risk, we dropped out of preschool and choose to do online school with two of our kids for the entire school year (3rd and Kindergarten) and one of them for a quarter (5th).  

When cases began to rise in the fall of 2020, we isolated as much as possible. It was hard at times, especially for my kids, who saw many of their friends having big parties and doing things as if there were no pandemic. 

We had many close calls with people around us getting sick but somehow, each time, we were blessed to avoid illness. One irony of cancer was that the week of my husband's first surgery was also the week one of his co-workers got sick. If my husband hadn't been at the ER and then home recovering from surgery that week, he probably would have brought it home. 

But while we'd felt constricted and worried about covid in the past, it's a completely different story to suddenly be one of the vulnerable. We were told that while the cancer wouldn't kill my husband, an infection of any kind during chemo could. "Covid will kill you a lot faster than cancer will," one of the doctors told us, and we were advised to have DH wear a mask even in our house. Even a cold could land him in the hospital. 

One blessing of covid was that because all of our kids were masking everywhere they went, we had very little sickness at all. Normally, it seems like someone always has a cough or a runny nose in the winter, but this year the flu was gone as were most colds. 

One of my daughters did pick up a cold from a girl she sat by at lunch, and we had her stay in her room unless wearing an N95 mask. Luckily, no one else in the family got sick and she recovered quickly.

Chemo

Chemo began in February and lasted through April. Chemo regimens differ for different types and stages of cancer. Some require infusions every few days. Some can be oral. DH had four cycles of chemo, each time lasting about 4 hours a day for five days in a row. Then he had two and a half weeks off before starting up his next cycle and the next.  Picture a boxer getting knocked down and then just when he gathers himself to stand up again, he gets knocked down again. Now picture it happening four times and each time, the pain and agony increases. That's pretty much chemo. DH says the only reason he went back for the last cycle is that he loves us. He also says in full seriousness that if his cancer ever recurrs, he would rather die than go through it again. I remind him that dying of cancer might be pretty gruesome, too, and then we change the subject and talk about something else.

First day of chemo. DH insisted on facing chemo dressed to fight; in his profession, his battle suit happens to be a suit and tie.

Going through cancer is an interesting trial. DH tends to be a more private person who doesn't want attention. But the hair loss associated with chemo is like a big blaring sign blasting, "Ask me about my cancer!"  And though there were the well-meaning few who wanted to sell us some miracle cure through an MLM, most of our friends and associates were nothing but kind and supportive. It's humbling now to think about it all: the kindness of my husband's workplaces to allow him flexibility and time to heal, his brother who sent us Chinese food each cycle, the friends who brought flowers or sent cards, the co-worker who twice sent SO much Brick Oven food the kids talked about the cookies, root beer, and pizza for weeks. 

Still, it was a tough time for our family. The burden of the pandemic was ongoing, though it did start to lessen once vaccines were available to us. DH got his between chemo cycles when his white blood cell count was virtually zero, so we weren't sure how effective it was. He's since had a booster that has given us more peace of mind. 

 It was harder than I expected to shave DH's head after his hair started falling out. Each of his daughters was allowed to take a turn with the razor. Gideon at 3.5 didn't know what to make of his dad without hair but he adapted after a few days. DH had a lot of fun with some of his daughters picking out some hats. 

Hardest for me was not doing the nursing or the comforting and encouraging, but bearing the burden of family alone. I didn't realize until cancer just how much I take for granted that my husband takes care of. The mental work of parenting was really hard alone, as was the physical stuff, like putting the little ones to bed alone. And watching DH, who had been running 40+ miles a week for years, grow weaker and weaker was hard to take.

Part of the problem was I didn't mentally prepare for the long slog it was or for the setbacks that we faced. This is what I wrote on May 10, a few weeks after the last cycle of chemo, 

DH had his CT scan on Thursday, followed by bloodwork. DH's tumors have definitely shrunk, but not enough to avoid surgery, currently scheduled for the 17th. Unfortunately, DH's blood levels did not look good. His white blood cells were near zero and the marker for the first-line immune system was also critically low. We had felt that things were finally safe from the constant fear of infection, three weeks out from chemo. It kind of feels like we just got out of the box in Toy Story 2 and now we have to go right back in. So we're back to home Church again and infection precautions when possible. 

Dr. R said that the surgeon may want to delay surgery with these blood results, and that DH may need to get five smaller doses of the one-time immune booster shot he got after his second and third cycles of chemo. Both shots caused him a ton of bone pain and made him hobble around like an old man, so we were not happy to hear this. We should know soon whether that is necessary and whether surgery can go on as scheduled. We really don't want a delay. We meet with Dr. O, the surgeon at Huntsman, on Tuesday.

I had put the surgery out of my mind, figuring I would focus on it when I had to, so it was really discouraging to get all the bad news at once. I had kind of set my mind on the chemo being the hardest part, so now it kind of feels like running a half marathon only to be told that actually, the race is a marathon and I have to run back to the start line.

The surgery is pretty invasive and there's a slight chance DH could lose a kidney.   It's 3-5 days in the hospital. They cut through the abdominal muscles so DH can't lift anything or run for at least four weeks and will have other restrictions for six weeks. He has to eat a low-fat diet for a while as his body adjusts to losing a section of lymph nodes.

We'll be okay. The worst of this will hopefully be over in the next couple of weeks and then we have the summer to heal. Our next door neighbor surprised DH by signing both of them up for the St. George marathon. C is a biker, not a runner, and he says this might be the only time he could keep up with DH. As long as DH is willing to have his goal to just finish, I think it will be a great way to put cancer behind us. DH hasn't really been able to run much since his last day of chemo -- he forced himself to "ugly run" on that day, then had to take the next two weeks off. He's done a few minutes at a time the last week, but knowing surgery will keep him from doing it doesn't encourage getting his running fitness back right now.

Surgery

Thankfully, after I wrote that, DH's blood levels improved enough for the surgery. We wanted it over with as soon as possible, but neither of us was prepared for just how hard it was on my husband's body. It set him back much more than chemo did. Once again, the goalpost seemed to move. We'd mentally prepared for four to six weeks and then somehow pictured full recovery. Instead, two months after the surgery, we wondered if he would ever feel himself again. In addition, he started having some numbness in his legs that the doctors said was a delayed side-effect from chemo. Now it felt like we were crawling toward some fleeting, non-existent finish line in the future sometime. The doctors were saying that maybe in a year, he'd feel fully recovered. 

Our family on Mother's Day. Lillian's fiance is there (more on that later) but we're missing Joey, who was finishing out his mission in Louisiana. We left a spot so I could photoshop him in.

Celebrations

Meanwhile, life went on, defying cancer or the pandemic to stop it. We had wonderful, happy, huge milestones to celebrate! And lots of work to handle the details of it all. Sometimes, I feel like my prayers this year have been something like this:

We've had so many tender mercies this year, and so much joy!

I feel like this entire year has been one of "just get through this next thing and then I'll catch my breath."  First, it was getting through chemo at the end of April, then it was surgery and limping to the finish line of online school in May, then prepping to send Michael to Africa and his farewell in July. Then it was Joey's return a week later and his homecoming address in Church. Then it was my family's reunion. Then Lillian's wedding. Then school starting, with the curveball of feeling a need to pull our fourth grader out for an unknown length of time for covid safety. Finally, it was Michael leaving and trying to fit everything he might need for two years into just one suitcase and one carry-on. 

Engaged!

First, Lillian got engaged to Jacob, a wonderful young man we all adore. Another silver lining of covid is that most of their dates were spent at our house, so we all feel like Jacob is just one of the family.

Jacob graduated from BYU in April and is currently doing a Master's program.

California Trip

We took a trip to the beach in April to celebrate the end of chemo and just to rest. It was fun to get some engagement photos in California and watch the little ones play on the beach.

Mission Call, Graduation, Mission Farewell, At Home MTC

Michael got his mission call to Cape Verde. He also got into BYU and will start when he returns home. We got to go to the temple with him just before they were opening up for proxy work again. That was a spiritual feast. 

When the call came, he was set to start MTC training the week before his Joey returned from his mission. Blessedly, he ended up doing home MTC for six weeks, first at his grandparent's house and then at ours. That meant he was able to see his brother and be at Lillian's wedding, where our entire family was all together for the first time in three years.

Mission call opening with all his friends

Michael is solid and steady, a "high-yeild, low-maintenance" member of our family. He's got an awesome sense of humor and is a calming influence. We love him and are so happy for this next step in his life. 

At Michael's July Mission Open House

He's home!

Next to giving birth, a missionary homecoming is one of the most incredible, joyful days. It's hard to describe it, so I won't try. I'll let the pictures tell the story. Lots of hugs, tears, and happiness.

This picture in the van reminded me of a similar ones two years earlier, when we dropped Joey off at the MTC.

The hugs didn't stop at the airport!

It filled my soul to see these two together a few days later.

And even more touching was the reunion of these two successful, happy returned missionaries, and their hugs and tears after three years apart.

More Trips

This summer was packed a little too full, especially given DH's low energy levels. But we had an awesome time anyway. First in June, I got to make a quick trip with Allison and Eliza to see the 17-year cicadas in Ohio. DH was going to do it with them as a road trip but didn't feel up to it. So the three of us flew in instead. We got to see and HEAR those loud, buzzing insects and I learned all sorts of cool things. Like, did you know that cicadas come out in prime years?  Or that they emerge white and then quickly darken?

We also spent a half day in Kirtland, Ohio, where our ancestors built this amazing temple.

For Michael's last trip with the family, we spent a week in California near Calveras Big Trees, then drove through Yosemite and Mono Lake on the way home. 

Then with Joey, we spent another week in Idaho, partly with our family and partly with my parents for a family reunion. We got back just days before the wedding, but it was worth it. 

Married!

Lillian and Jacob spent the summer in Maryland doing internships and were married in the Manti temple in August. It was so lovely and wonderful. Jacob's family was able to come from overseas, though it meant quarantining when they returned. It was a joy to meet his extended family, who are all terrific. We hope all our kids are so blessed when they marry. 

We had the reception for them in our backyard the night before, which made the wedding so much less stressful. We had all the work and details and hosting finished on Wednesday night so Thursday, we could just enjoy the powerful covenants Lillian and Jacob made in the temple. It was the first time our entire family had been together in the same place since Lillian left on her mission in 2018. And I can't express how much it meant to me to have DH and my two oldest boys in the sealing room for the ceremony. All of my grown children have a depth of testimony and faith in Jesus Christ that is incredible and will help them do so much good in the world. I wish I could bottle up the feeling of that day in the temple. 

The first time in over three years that my entire family was together!

Farewell!

Michael did the first half of home MTC at his grandparents house, where it was quiet and calm and he could focus. Then he came home after the wedding for the last few weeks. It was not calm or quiet but he was able to focus on learning Portuguese and studying the gospel anyway.  We loved having him, but I didn't really get the chance to savor those last days with him. And then one morning, we drove up with two of his brothers and dropped him off. We'll see him again in two years. 

Since Michael left and school has been back in session, I am happy to announce that I have mostly caught my breath. I'm finally getting to the end of the "urgent" and "necessary" things on my to do list and am onto the "want to do's." One of the tasks on that list was to update this blog. 

If I were to sum up the year 2021 for us, I would say it was a year we set out to run a 5K together and ended up running a marathon instead. It was harrowing, discouraging, frightening, overwhelming and difficult. But it was also exhilarating, joyful, and faith-filled. We have felt God's hand in our lives so powerfully through all the ups and downs of this year. We know He lives and loves us. He loves you too. May we all have a chance to catch our breath and ponder on the beauty and meaning of life.