Ring the Bell!

Ring the Bell!
September 19, 2018

     I came in to Banner Gateway Hospital for the day. Mikie told me his white blood cell counts were up. From 0.3 to 1.6. We knew he needed to be at 1.5 before he could be sent home. We knew this number could appear anytime from Day 11- Day 14. It was Day 11 yesterday when I walked in the door. Soon after I got there, the cancer doctor appeared with his entourage on his daily rounds. And guess what he said, "I'm sending you home". He has been telling Mike this week that he is one of the smoothest transplant patients to have come through the program.
     Jessica and I had been planning on taking our little Kenz to the airport. Kenz is heading to Denmark for the next 8 months to nanny. Isn't that something? She is so brave. So, that is what we did. It was a bittersweet farewell. I hurried back to get Mike's  affairs in order  so we could get out of there.
    When it was finally time to leave, the nursing staff gathered around the Bell. This is a tradition for any cancer survivor, probably anywhere in the world, to do before they exit their place of treatment. My Mikie was emotional to see all the staff who had given him such excellent care gathered around for a final good-bye.
    Now, this is our "dilemma". It has been a solid five months since Mike was diagnosed in England, we came home, bought a house, moved, and began intense treatment leading up to this stem cell transplant. How can it be only 5 months? It seems like a lifetime ago. Our service time in England
seems as if it was a dream. We have been reliving our first days in England this week as it was a year ago when we arrived there.  We realize now that Mike went to England with cancer. But today, it is truly hard for us to believe Mike is "cured" of  that same cancer.
    Does ringing the bell mean he is truly free to live his life as before? Will he get strong enough to do that very thing? When can we truly feel at ease that this adventure is over? Are we demonstrating a lack of faith? We both still feel as if we are crossing a minefield. He is still frail and neutropenic. We have to stay down here in the valley for 30 more days. We can do it! Look how far he has come. He has a new immune system. We just have to guard it and him for the next year. Then what? Will that bell be ringing in our ears as a reminder that, because of the Lord's tender care, he is still here? We are counting on that. Isn't the Lord so very kind? We so hope he forgives us for questioning Mike's recovery.

   

Mike's Transplant Day

DAY ZERO - Transplant Day

DAY ZERO - Transplant Day

Sept 7, 2018

     Transplant  Day has happened! Day Zero was the start of a new life for Mike. That means it's 
also the start of a new life for me. His frozen cells are now making themselves at Home in his depleted body. Hopefully, real soon, they will start finding their way around and decide where the best spot will be for them to live and get to work. The medical community cannot explain it any clearer than this to a girl like me. But, I believe them. I am counting on it. 
     After all the hoopla, fatigue, chemo, nausea, fevers, etc. the transplant itself is anticlimactic. His precious cells are wheeled down the hall in a little "ice chest". When they are opened up the dry ice lets loose. This adds a bit of magic to the whole process. Numbers and ID are read out loud and checked by two witnesses throughout the three hour process. Each bag was brought in and hung and witnessed by two nurses throughout the morning. 
      When the cells were out of the bag and in Mike's body, the nurses came in to sing "Happy Birthday" and present Mike with a gift. It is hard to really take in that today he is a new man. Our Jessica and Addie were here for the process. 
     It has been a ride. We have received  so many little blessings along the way. Someday, we will both look back and recognize what a miraculous thing has just happened. But for now, Mike's job is to get well and my job is to make sure he gets well.

After The Harvest

After The Harvest

August 26, 2018

     Mike's Harvest Day has come and gone. We have been home in Show Low for over a week now. We arrived on a wet, cool night. It had been raining all day. It seems that we have been given the gift of cool, wet days ever since then! It has been wonderful to be home, in order for him to rebuild and prepare for his transplant. We return in four days to begin the process.
      Our emotions continue to be all over the map. We feel good about his success, yet we despise the long process to get there. We feel so thankful for modern medicine, yet somedays we still want to be in England. In short, we are a mess on most days. I am embarrassed to write this, but it is what we are up to. I try my best to look outside my world and see what other people are going through. I would always be on the lookout at the hospital for an opportunity to meet caregivers of other patients. This is hard to do as all doors are closed and most caregivers spend 90% of the day in the rooms of the patients. I want to dig; to know their story; to know how they are coping. So often, I hear sad stories and feel that Mike and I are so much better off. He has a chance. Some of these folks I have met don't.
      I feel guilty that I am so restless, so anxious to get this behind us. It makes me feel ungrateful for all our blessings. I just read today a quote:

            "What a wonderful life I've had! I only wish I'd known it sooner".....anon

Am I always looking beyond? Somedays I think I am. I want to learn to live in the moment and remember that Heavenly Father truly is in charge. I want to turn this over to him every minute of everyday. I don't want to look back and think I squandered this growing time because I couldn't handle the growing pains.  So, for now, that's my rant. Do I feel better? Well, maybe.

Harvesting Day

Stem cells are life for my Mikie and today is his harvesting day.
This fancy machine's job is to collect 8,000,000 stem cells over
a 6-8 hour period today. And after that - HOME to Show Low
for a 2 week rest before his actual transplant.

Reece Lewis Tenney has arrived!

The Waiting Game

The Waiting Game

July 23, 2018

     It seems our whole family is playing a waiting game of some kind today. I sit quietly here in the waiting room of the MDAnderson waiting for my Mike to finish his fluid injection. Our Graddaughter, Kortney and Cody, are waiting in the Flagstaff Hospital for their new baby to arrive. Her parents and all the rest of the Seaman clan are waiting by their phones for his arrival also. Heaven feels so close! I so wish I could have a peek in the spirit world and witness all the good-byes going on about now for our new baby boy! 

      My Mikie has been is the hospital for the last ten days. His kidneys DID NOT like his last go-round of chemo. It is still a waiting game to get him straightened out so he can begin the next round. I have to record how mind numbing these past days have been.  A big part of fighting this cancer is the mind game. It has been such a blessing for me to leave every night and sleep at Jessica and Jordy’s house. Their boys have been so kind to give up their bed and room to us. 

      As a young child I remember my Grandad Lester Ozment sitting in the chair doing the daily crossword puzzle from the newspaper. My mom used to sit on the couch and do them occasionally also. I have thought so much of them as I have worked several crossword puzzles while waiting in the hospital with my Mikie. Crosswords, embroidering, simple crocheting, reading, walking, and typing my dad’s journal have been my sanity. Today, I was reminded that TV became the rage up in Show Low at Christmas time 1958. My dad wrote that he sold two sets on the entry day of Dec 23. 

     So, for now, I continue to wait. This little adventure has been a blessing for both of us. We both realize over and over that we will wait for each other. Anytime. Anywhere.