Tag: Blog

12 Angry Men…

theycallmebetty3 Comments

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The summons stared me in the face like an angry, arms crossed child. Neither of us wanting to give in to the others wants and needs yet both knowing there was only going to be one winner. A summons for jury duty, reissued as a continuance had already been granted. Myself not really wanting to be there, instead only thinking of the re-arrangements to our already taxed schedule. But as 0630 rolled around and we stared at each other with contempt, I blinked first, the jury summons won thus off to The Halls of Justice we went. (Cant type it without hearing the justice league cartoon)

Standing in line with other prospective jurors it was blatantly obvious no one wanted to be positioned in front of this building. I meandered slowly towards the door, belt in one hand, anything metal in the other, doing my best to not look annoyed as I proceeded through a metal detector. Once inside I quickly found a seat and the waiting began.

Several times instructions were read. Our summons clearly states all blanks on the reverse side should be completed prior to arrival on your assigned date. Apparently only 10% of us understood the instructions or even bothered to read this nasty little note. Finally a representative arrived and began reading from a list of names. There were to be three groups. One group assigned to courtroom 207, the other assigned to 208 and the third group was to stand by as alternates. No one wants to be in the alternate group as there is no timetable assigned. Either you are released right away or kept all day long as jury selection trudges forward.

So a little known secret. I love jury duty! Seriously, I think jury duty rocks! I have been on a jury and was picked to be the foreman! It took four days total and was very interesting. You really have no solid foundation for how our justice system works until you have been on a jury! But under my current circumstances it was not appealing at all. But I was there and would perform my civic duty regardless.

As a young gal stood at a podium reading names for group one and two, I secretly wished they’d call my name. I know I needed to be at Stanford, and as confusing as it is, I also knew I wanted to be on a jury, it’s kind of like the two biggest kids on the playground picking teams! You pray you are not one of the last two kids left with two captain’s arguing over which one of you sucks less! So I sat, listening to an alphabetic order, praying F would be for me! Well I ended up in group three. Bummer, the dreaded unknown!

Then something happened, they readjusted their numbers and just like that! I was headed to courtroom 208! Five minutes later they excused all alternate jurors! DAMNIT!!! I could not win! So I resigned myself to a possibility of four or five day’s jury duty. Sitting in the courtroom trying my hardest to listen to our judge I couldn’t focus! I kept thinking about my wife, laying there wondering when I would arrive. Then it was the kids, how will I get them where they need to be all week-long? But the final straw was when I realized I had no idea what the judge was saying! I had been sitting in the courtroom for 45 minutes and the only thing I remembered was raising my right hand to be sworn in! Also I had become overly stressed out over my phone being completely shut down! One of the rules of the courtroom! What if Jacy needed to reach me, or her mom or dad? There was no way I was going to be able to survive this and still care about the defendant’s right to a fair trial!

The judge asked at 1145 for all jurors who felt they had a valid hardship in conjunction with fulfilling their obligation to serve to please form a line outside. She also asked anyone who felt they would have an issue with serving to please raise their hand. 30 people raised hands, all grumbling as they did so. I did not. No way was I going to be a slacker! Good men and women have died for our freedoms and with those freedoms come the responsibility to fulfill our obligations. We Americans have one of the best judicial systems in the world. It may be flawed but it beats the hell out of being thrown in jail to rot with no rights at all! So this guy wasn’t going to be one of those guys! That’s right! Damn proud to be an American!!

11:45- The line is long. I am third from last.

Oh shut up! I hear y’all now grumbling about all that patriotic shit I just spewed! The long and the short of it? There was no way I was even close to being able to pay attention. As conflicting as it was for once it was about me, my needs, and the needs of my family. I was sorry for the defendant, but I didn’t put him there and my wife needed me! End of story!

Walking up to the podium, lump in my throat, I really did feel guilty. The judge was really awesome, from the beginning she was funny, with great dialogue! She reminded me of Judge Harry from the TV sitcom Night court!

I placed both hands on the podium looked up at her as she said hello. I shook my head (I think she could tell I was bothered by what I was about to do) and said: I feel guilty standing here right now.

Judge: I have that effect on people!

Everyone chuckled

Judge: What is your name for the record?

Me: James Franceschi

Judge: Go ahead Mr. Franceschi

Me: I didn’t raise my hand earlier and for that I am sorry but you see my wife, well my wife had a bone marrow transplant in July. This date today was my rescheduled summons, a date I picked because she was supposed to be home by now. She is not. She has had every ailment possible and continues to struggle through setbacks at Stanford hospital. Therefor I don’t believe I would be a good pick for this jury as my mind is obviously elsewhere.

Judge: family is the most important thing and should come first.

Me: Thank you, and please understand I am who you would want on a jury. Every time I am called I look forward to being picked and the last time I was here I was not only picked but the other jurors picked me to be the jury foreman as well! I had an amazing experience serving as a juror.

Judge: Thank you for your service Mr. Franceschi and let’s just say this ones on me! Your service here is complete and thank you again. The court wishes the best to you and your wife.

Me: Thank you judge

As I walked from the podium I heard the judge say thank you again and that she wished others could have heard my testimony. Slightly embarrassed, I quietly said thank you again and after a moment with the bailiff I was on my way. I hope one day I am called again and it is in her courtroom so I can be a part of her machine. I am sure anyone who serves under this judge comes away with a smile.

Two hours later I was with my wife. When I am with her my blood pressure drops, my head stops hurting a little, my heart beats a little slower, my smile grows a little larger.

I busted Jacy out of her room for a stroll to the fountain. We found a shaded seat as she cannot be in the sun and even with a mask on her face I saw her smile through her eyes. The warm breeze upon her skin, the sound of water crashing down and a duck or two chatting away in the distance. It was amazing just being by her side, knowing it is, was and always will be where I am supposed to be.

After we had all the sun and fun we could stand, I rolled her back inside where she proceeded to walk not one, but two laps around the quad. This girl wants to go home and bad! Of course this left her exhausted and within a few minutes she was fast asleep holding my hand.

Two hours later the day was gone and I needed to say goodbye. I hate saying goodbye. I still hate walking out the door. But I do so knowing she is being taken care of by some of the best human beings I have had the privilege to meet. I love her and so do they. It shows every time I arrive and am greeted with a smile.

This week she is starting another experimental drug to help control her bleeding bladder. Please continue to pray for rapid healing as prolonged exposure to this drug can leave irreversible damage. But it is our only rational option. I say this because the other two options, the way I understand them would leave her either on dialysis for the rest of her life or incontinent.

A day that started out with possibly twelve angry men ended with one happy wife and one humbled husband who is always glad to have another opportunity to simply hold my wife’s hand..

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The fight..

theycallmebetty5 Comments

She smiles whenever I walk through the door. Warm and happy, clapping her hands together with joy. As men and women we secretly hope our spouses are this happy to see us all the time, youth and a certain naivety lead us to these false hopes. We (husband and wife) eventually learn life will continually get in the way of how our relationships are portrayed within our imaginations. We have also learned over time that children, work, sports, school, social gatherings and general daily survival slowly tear down the very fabric our relationships were built upon when it was just the two of us.

Juuussst the two of us, we can make it if we tryyyyyy, just the two of us. You and I…

Sorry couldn’t help myself but C’MON!! You heard it too when I wrote it!!! Don’t shake your head no! You know it and I know it, you  heard it! Anyways….

Then Leukemia happens. It scares us to death! Just the sound of it. Leukemia. Yep it carries as much weight if not more than simply saying Cancer. Now we throw in remission, survival and cancer free. Re-lapse, Bone Marrow transplant, GvHD, success and failure statistics and well the emotional roller coaster of life and death drive you closer together. You begin to realize all the times you took each other for granted while expecting your relationship to never change or evolve. But it had changed. It had changed a lot. Of course nothing like you see on television, where there were secrets and you no longer spoke to each other. You know? Soap opera like stuff. No you both had settled into your roles as partners in this game of life. One handling the children’s education and transportation, the other handling finances, overtime work and building a future out of our property. The both of you sharing house and ranch duties, parenting, cooking, cleaning, laundry while you both try your hardest to equally dole out duties and discipline to our four ever needy children. Yes life can truly get in the way erasing the simpler times when you waited all day to see each other, then dreaded the moment you had to leave.

Every day I am home I cannot wait until I see her again. We don’t head out on a romantic date, no carriage rides, fancy dinners or moments alone in the park. Two people sitting sometimes quietly while the other sleeps, holding hands waiting for the next nurse to come in, ruining that moment of normalcy. I have said before I believe holding hands is the simplest form of compassion. These days it feels as though the nurse has walked in to interrupt us doing something we shouldn’t be, like teenagers hiding out in the barn. Yet we are simply holding hands, it is all we have.

6-7-8 hours within those four walls disappear in flash! I hate leaving! I hate leaving my girl behind! Walking out to the car I have learned to transform my emotions, change my demeanor, and count my blessings. For the easy road would be to remain angry at someone, anyone for what has happened to my wife. The once vibrant, larger than life woman has melted away to around 115-120 pounds depending on her water weight that day. Where toned tan legs once powered her successfully through a mini triathlon, two long bones remain, not one muscle in sight. Where long, gorgeous, curly hair rained down over her shoulders, a bald head remains. Her gleaming eyes and gorgeous face trying to peer out from under swelling and drug induced exhaustion. An athletic, active woman who rode horses and ran the perimeter of our property now worries about getting out of bed and walking a little farther down the hall every day. But I turn that all off as the building disappears behind my shoulders to focus on the positives.

She has beaten the odds so far and is still alive.

Jacy still has fight, lots of fight! Which is why she continues beating the odds! This woman, this beast wants to participate in double PT every day no matter how exhausted! Some days it doesn’t happen but she still tries! She continually defies nurses’ orders by getting up on her own to use the bathroom even though it is against protocol. Sitting in her chair for hours, sometimes all day as opposed to just staying in bed, waiting for things to change. Eating even though she has no desire to eat, drinking plenty of water and nutrition drinks which taste yucky. Using large rubber workout bands when she does stay in bed, hoping any little extra helps her to get home that much faster! Yep she is still fighting, like the angry Cuban stuck inside her, she is fighting and fighting hard!

So instead of moping on the way out the door, worrying about whether or not she will make it, I think about what and whom for which this daily battle rages. She fights first and foremost for her children, there is no doubt! Then she fights for her family and friends. She wants desperately to be there for all of your life changing events as a daughter, niece, aunt, mom and friend. It is what drives her forward when she begins feeling low.

Lastly she fights for herself, for you see she knows if there is no her, there is no me, and if there is no me, there is no her. Our love for each other has stood the test of time and will continue to do so. So she smiles when I come through the door, happy and giddy just to see me for a little while.

I sit down quietly, kiss her through all my hospital garb, and hold her hand. We smile, laugh, and talk. The hospital melts away for a few moments and I no longer see the woman waging war, but the soft, gentle, warm spirit I married 14 years ago.

We are winning……..

jacy stanford

How “we” are doing.

theycallmebetty3 Comments

Unknown-2This arduous journey we are on is filled with inevitable highs and lows. People are always asking how “we” are doing and although for the most part I am fine; I cannot hide my feelings of attrition while aimlessly wondering through each and every day. Work is merely a blessed escape, a place to hide from reality as we move hour by hour towards resolve. Home leaves me running around trying to appease everyone while getting absolutely nothing done in the process. The carnage left behind I fear to be my children. Although showing no signs of weakness along with praising my personal efforts whenever we check in at night, I often ponder what their reflection of this moment will become years from now. Will their recollections be filled with bravery, honesty, and fondness for a valiant effort put forth by many loving, caring friends and family? A summer filled with day trips, adventures and playtime accompanied by freedom from parental rule? Or will they only remember a summer where no mother or father were present a majority of the time? Night after night of no one to kiss them goodnight, tell them how very proud we were of any small accomplishment casually swept under the rug through absence? I wonder, my heart hurts, and panic grips my thoughts as I have no control over any situation they may find themselves. Or maybe I am just thinking too much?

My oldest is doing a great job, the kids are constantly singing the praises of super, duper big brother Cody; it does bring me some comfort in the man he has become. But day after day I smile, I hold strong, and act like nothing is happening for the only ability I hold to express any feelings resonates within the stroke of a key. It is probably nothing, my uncontrolled daydreams of disaster happening without me present, strung together from the woven fabric of a long storied career, centered on assisting others during disaster. For my spinning, crazy mind the boogie man hides around every corner waiting to spring into action. He prays on the weak and unattended, and although my oldest is an adult with more than adequate skills to handle any trouble that may arise, through my eyes he is ten years old with a squeaky voice asking for my help and I am not there.

I miss my wife, I miss my friend, and I even miss her being terse with me for something stupid that has sprung callously from my mouth. (which if you know me is frequent)  I miss her kiss. Leukemia sucks. It has been 4 weeks since I have been allowed to kiss my wife. (Definitely been taking that for granted!) 4 weeks! Now don’t get jealous but truth be told, one kiss from my wife can erase a month’s worth of fret, anger or sorrow. I know, you’re jealous anyways, you just couldn’t help yourself huh? Its ok, but she is mine, so get your own!

That is how I am doing. That is what’s spinning around in my brain on a minute by minute basis.

The good news is how Jacy is doing? Jacy is slowly getting better!! Her white cell count is stabilizing, the constant fevers of 101-104 are now holding steady 99-101 (yes that’s a good thing)! She is still very uncomfortable from added fluids in her cells. This comes from bag after bag of fluids added to help with a bleeding bladder! So there is roughly 20-30 pounds of extra water weight on her at any given time. This added fluid is extremely uncomfortable and at times painful. Jacy is still having problems with severe nerve pain to the point a physical therapy team has begun working with her on a daily basis. Being the stubborn Cuban woman she is, nothing is keeping her from trying to walk the entire circumference of the quad. Chairs strategically placed around its outer perimeter have assisted her with this feat! She called me yesterday to announce she made her first full lap! It hurt like hell, she struggled a bit, but she made it and felt like she finished a marathon! Her lips and throat have been saturated with sores and as of yesterday most of her bottom lips inner skin had sloughed away, leaving raw exposed nerves. This is all part of recovery as the white cells are learning what is foreign, foe or friend within its new host.

Word on the street is if she loses the temperature spikes, the bladder stops bleeding and she is able to walk a little more consistently without so much pain, they will turn her loose to outpatient care. Outpatient care requires living within 30 minutes of Stanford in case of a recovery reversal such as high fever, difficulty breathing, an infection of any kind or onset of GVHD (Graft Versus Host Disease). This of course means she moves into her dad’s apartment close to Stanford where her family will assist with her recovery. It also means once school is in session our family will make the journey every weekend to spend much needed time with her.

When I spoke with her today her spirits were high! She feels as though she is finally turning the corner and is looking forward to making it out of the hospital signifying the next step in recovery.

Thank you all for the continued prayers, support and love. The Franceschi clan is very grateful for each and every one of you!

May God bless you all, as together we watch my awesome wife Kick Cancers Ass one more time!

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We have a match!!

theycallmebetty4 Comments

Time is fleeting and days roll by like road signs on a freeway. Moments consisting of only a glimpse, a stare, are gone as fast as they arrived.

We are counting down days as this weekend rapidly approaches. Tuesday Jacy readmits herself for another round of chemotherapy. 5-7 days hospital bound. So this weekend is all about family. Cody is home and all of the kids have been pestering him, hoping for one on one time with their older brother. To Cody’s credit he has taken the time, spending it carefully with each one of them, letting them do what they want to do and fostering a fun, over the top attitude. We are proud of this boy, he went off to college and came back just a tad bit grown up and is becoming one heck of a man.

Counting and counting, days, hours, minutes and seconds. One more day till chemo, many more days till total sickness, and a few more days until blood transfusions; then just as you start to feel like yourself again, hives! Or headaches, or difficulty breathing, or the inability to stay awake because you need Benadryl for the hives, or blood transfusion or because you just need to sleep.

Once all of these medical cocktail concoctions are hammered out, it is time to throw in a Bone Marrow Transplant. Speaking of a Bone Marrow transplant, we learned on Thursday of this week a match had been located, identified, notified and accepted! Not just any match mind you either, this match was a 10 out of 10!!! Pretty super great news! Some really awesome person took the time to get swabbed and now will inevitably change the course of both their life and my wife’s forever! Thanks to this angel, Jacy now has the best recovery chances yet! In case you were wondering or asking yourself right now; what does ten out of ten really mean? 10/10 is part of HLA matching for a suitable donor and here is everything you need to know about matching and the importance of that donor via my favorite web site: Be The Match!

HLA MATCHING

Human leukocyte antigen (HLA) typing is used to match you with a donor for your bone marrow or cord blood transplant. This is not the same as ABO blood typing. HLA is a protein – or marker – found on most cells in your body. Your immune system uses HLA markers to know which cells belong in your body and which do not.

Be The Match Registry® is a listing of potential donors and cord blood units and their HLA types. The best transplant outcome happens when a patient’s HLA and the donor’s HLA closely match.

HLA matching basics

Half of your HLA markers are inherited from your mother and half from your father. Each brother and sister has a 25%, or 1 in 4, chance of matching you, if you have the same mother and father. It is highly unlikely that other family members will match you. Under very rare circumstances, family members other than siblings may be tested.

About 70%, or 7 out of 10, patients who need a transplant do not have a suitable donor in their family. If you do not have a donor in your family, your transplant team may look for an unrelated donor or cord blood unit for you on Be The Match Registry. When a search is done on the Be The Match Registry, it includes a search of more than 22.5 million potential adult donors and more than 601,000 cord blood units on lists from around the world.

Role of HLA matching

HLA matching is important because a close HLA match:

  • Increases the likelihood of a successful transplant.
  • Improves engraftment—when the donated cells start to grow and make new blood cells in you.
  • Reduces the risk of complications after transplant, especially graft-versus-host disease (GVHD). GVHD is a potentially serious complication. GVHD occurs when the immune cells, which are part of the donated marrow or cord blood, attack your body.

HLA matching requirements

There are many HLA markers. Each HLA marker has a name. The names are letters or combinations of letters and numbers. Doctors review at least 8 HLA markers for these minimum requirements: two A markers, two B markers, two C markers, and two DRB1 markers. Some doctors look for an additional marker, called DQ, to match.

An adult donor must match at least 6 of these 8 HLA markers. Many transplant centers require at least a 7 of 8 match. Because cord blood cells are less mature than adult donor cells they have less strict matching criteria. A cord blood unit must match at least 4 of 6 markers at HLA-A, -B, and -DRB1. These guidelines are based on scientific studies of transplant results.

Example A shows that the patient’s markers match the donor’s. When HLA markers A, B, C, and DRB1 from the patient and the donor match, it is called an 8 of 8 match. When A, B, C, DRB1, and DQ markers all match, it’s called a 10 of 10 match.

Example B shows that one of the patient’s A markers does not match one of the donor’s A markers. Therefore, this is a 7 of 8 match or, if the DQ marker matches, a 9 of 10 match.

Confirmatory HLA Typing

HLA typing is a complex process that can be done at different levels of detail. Patients always have HLA typing done at a high level of detail. Blood is tested using laboratory methods that check the exact HLA markers.

Every potential donor has a special type of detailed HLA typing (also called confirmatory typing) done before being chosen as the best match for a patient. Confirmatory typing is done to make sure the patient and potential donor match at a detailed level.

 

 

Other factors for a successful transplant

HLA matching is the most important factor but not the only factor that can affect your chances of having a successful transplant.

  • The number of blood-forming cells needs to be suitable for the size of the patient. Larger patients need more blood-forming cells. Cord blood units have fewer cells than adult donors. Sometimes, more than one cord blood unit is needed for a patient.
  • Different donor characteristics have an impact on a transplant’s success. These include the donor’s:
    • Age
    • Gender
    • Blood type
    • Body size
    • The number of times a female donor has been pregnant

If more than one well-matched adult donor is found for you, your doctor will look at these factors.

  • Infection history can also affect transplant outcomes and choice of a donor. Before transplant, doctors test patients and donors for a common virus called cytomegalovirus (CMV).

Finding donors for patients with less common HLA types

Transplant centers may face a greater challenge finding a match for some patients because some HLA types are less common. HLA types are inherited, so the best chance of finding a suitable donor may be with someone of a similar racial or ethnic background. Some people have very diverse tissue types that reduce the chances of finding suitably matching donors.

You can see how a “10 out of 10” match is pretty darn great!!! We also learned the tentative date for her transplant is scheduled for the 22nd of June. Then things get turned a little further upside down here on the ranch. We as a family had a long talk about everyone’s responsibilities while mom was away this summer. Three months is an eternity in a child’s mind and that time frame really hit Parker hard. Through a few tears and a lot of hugs he came to realize the importance of mom’s latest adventure, and even though he didn’t like the idea, he agreed to be the best strongest little dude he could be. I cannot imagine being a young guy trying to process all this information in conjunction with your mom declaring she will be absent for the entire summer.

Other than one small emotional blip, everything else seems to be coming together just fine. We all know our roles, and Jacy know hers is to do nothing more than heal, get better and come home to her family.

Only time will tell what our summer brings..

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A Mystery is afoot!

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Two days ago while speed shopping through our local grocery store, my eyes cruised the ever dreaded ice cream isle. Now being one that doesn’t particularly follow any diet fad, weight loss program or calorie counting insanity. It has come to my attention that this particular body no longer holds that stealthy shape once honed through hard work and persistence previously acquired prior to Leukemia invading our household.  Although my weight does fluctuate pre and post beer consumption the true curse ensnaring my ever rising muffin top is ice cream! MMMMMMMM Ice cream! That frozen tasty, melty goodness oozing with everything from strawberries (a fools trick towards health) to salt, caramel and chocolate! If it wasnt a frozen item I would believe the devil conjured its ingredient infusion himself.

Staring at a thousand or so manufactures of ice cream, much like micro brews these days it seems everyone is an ice cream perfectionist and or connoisseur. This steely glare caught a reflection of something different, something attractive and suave. Its packaging reeking of taste and elegance. Gelato!

Oh yes, I have heard of you gelato! Many a times while strolling some special event or walking through the inner workings of our local college town this confectionary dream buzzword arises! Gelato! Have you had some? Oh my goodness I just paid $5.50 for a teaspoon sized scoop but it is soooo worth it!!! Gelato; Its Italian obviously, so therefore anything Italian must be good right? No wait, anything Italian must be GREAT! Italians are the true inventors of exceptional culinary delights much to the chagrin of all Frenchman everywhere! Of course being an Italian creation, backed by the mass consumption of anyone either in college or living superbly, comfortably inside a tax bracket that none of us will ever see, well then Gelato must be that river of gold we should all heartily dip our cups into while the dippin’s good!

Oh by the way before I go any further, Gelato is just Italian for Ice cream, so drop all the pretentiousness while eating it in front of your friends. It was and is pure marketing genious but from an Italians standpoint (uh me) it just makes you look really dumb. Although amusing, dumb none the less..

Gelato it is; my wife is craving some ice-cold sweet goodness for her throat which remains sore from having a breathing tube inserted during her operation. It is also just the excuse I need to purchase me some fat building frozen calories! Hey its bulking season and that waistline isn’t going to grow itself!!

Two tubs purchased, one for me and one for her. Both lovingly cradled and carefully placed inside our freezer on the top shelf for all to see. That is right little Timmy we dont have ice cream here at our house we have Gelato!!! Hee hee..

A few days go by, my wifes tub of caramel and sea salt goes unmolested. Placed neatly below her popsicles it is very clear this tub belongs to her and no one else. On the other hand my tub of strawberry (yes I fell for the health trick thing) chocolate truffle is decimated. Empty container lying in the trash, there is no hiding the fact you can probably hear my fat cells expanding, bursting as I walk through the kitchen.

Then comes yesterday. A text, just like the thousands of texts I receive on a weekly basis pops onto my phone. Casually glancing my phones direction, its (the texts) words confuse me, as though I am four years old trying to learn the alphabet my eyes blink rapidly working overtime at shape recognition!

Jacy: Did both ice creams get eaten?? I’m craving some and its gone??

Ok no time to panic, you got this, a simple answer, I mean it was there last night right? RIGHT? Oh yes I remember, My middle son grabbed it and asked for some, seeing it was unopened he was asked to put it back and remember that particular bucket of Gelato (said with a snobby undertone) was for mom!

Betty: No the other one was there last night unopened.

Phew, maybe she just didn’t see it.

Jacy: Its gone!!! I can’t find it!!

There is no way its gone! What the hell is she talking about!! Maybe Leukemia or Benadryl has her seeing things, maybe the freezer has become like the Mojave desert and she is only seeing a frozen mirage!! It was there, unopened, sealed tighter than fort Knox, at eleven o’clock last night!!!! Crap what do I say?

Betty: Ah second shelf? It was under the popsicle??? (Three ??? means sheepishly asking)

Jacy: GONE!

And so the mystery began! First order of business was find where the ice cream went or at least where the remnants (the body if you will) of the ice cream was disposed of. The body was found sometime later in the downstairs freezer, the top portion of Gelato mercilessly scraped away leaving nothing but the soft underbelly exposed for consumption. I now had something to go on.

After throughly questioning myself without a lawyer present because I hold no guilt and really I am not much of an interrogator anyways, it became clear we had two main suspects.

Middle son and youngest son.

Now the daughter was off at science camp but I was fairly certain somehow her name would arise as a suspect regardless. Both boys when questioned held to their stories.

Youngest son: uh, I was asleep? Plus I am scared of the dark so there is no way I am going downstairs into the dark kitchen to eat ice cream. No way!!

Middle son: why would I steal it? I would just tell you I ate it and take my consequences!

Both held compelling arguments.

The youngest had opportunity but no real motive as fear restricted his very movement. The middle child had motive and opportunity yet the whole owning up to it portion threw us for a loop! Could it be a ploy? A distraction keeping us from the truth?

We threw every tactic we knew the middle boys direction; from good parent bad parent, mom sweet and innocent; you wont get in trouble honey, honest, just tell mommy the truth, with me scowling in the background, arms crossed ready to slam my fist on the table at any moment! (I KNOW IT WAS YOU!!!!) To confused Jimmy Stewart parents; Well, well gosh little buddy none of this is making sense; shucks you got us in a real pickle here; maybe, just maybe you could help a feller out with a decent explanation? We even resorted to consequence parents; Just tell us you took the ice cream, oops I am sorry, the Gelato and we will just chalk it up to poor judgement on your part. If you dont tell us you took it, you can’t go to State for rodeo. NOTHING!!!!!

None of it worked! Nothing worked on either of them!!! Holy crap, either we live in a house with the very best liars in the world (seriously we couldn’t get a read on either one) Or a ghost ate it, then levitated the Gelato to the freezer downstairs where it was carefully placed to look like it had been there nestled amongst the Ego’s all along! These boys should work for the CIA!!!

Of course the best explanation offered came from the youngest. Maybe just maybe the middle child was sleep walking, (yes he does sleep walk to the amusement of the youngest and myself) his sleep walking self finally figured out how to get downstairs where he opened the freezer door, took out the ice cream (we are calling it what it is now) opened it, found a spoon, then took it downstairs to eat it amongst the laundry in the basement where no on would find him sleeping and eating. When he was finished he placed it back into the freezer so he could sleep walk to it later? Yep that sounds plausible. All I could picture was the sleep walking scene from Stepbrothers and sorrow for the future wife of said middle child. images-5

In the end the investigation hit a dead-end.  We determined someone ate it, someone moved it, someone tried to hide it, and Gelato is really just dumb old ice cream.

Rubbing my head the case is placed into the unsolved files.

Maybe somehow my daughter teleported her ice cream eating skills from 200 miles away really did do it!!! Stranger things have happened right?

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Another crazy week

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A week gone bye.

What’s in a week? 7 days, Mon-Sun, 5 days dedicated to the working machine, school, children, and so on. This last week has been one hell of a ride let me tell you! Starting the Friday before last Jake and I packed the rig with gear and horses; pointed east we headed off for the last CHSRA D-3 rodeo of the year! Jake was looking to score at steer wrestling and maintain a second place standing in cutting. His team roping partner Breanne and he were hoping to finish the year without another goofy mishap!

Saturday and Sunday went by in the blink of an eye. When it was over, no steers hit the ground, Jake slipped from second to fourth in cutting and he and his team roping partner finished the year the way they started, laughing at each other’s crazy luck. Now it seems as though the weekend could be interpreted as a bummer, but nothing could be further from the truth! All the kids had a great time, points were tallied and when the dust settled Jake made state finals in Steer Wrestling, Cutting and earned the Rookie of the year All Around Cowboy award! To say he was excited would be an understatement! He put on a tough face, but smiled his boyish smile all the way home.

Speaking of home, the wife had enough strength to take our daughter to her softball game on Saturday. This of course left her drained on Sunday, but it was a great outing as she finally was able to see and converse with people wondering about her condition and how she was doing overall.

Monday arrived leaving us scrambling once again as fair time was upon us. Being a ranch family all three kids had entries in the fair. Jake-a lamb, and a welding project, Jessica-a pig, Parker-two pairs of meat chickens! Washing, trimming, cleaning tack, moving equipment and working horses were all part of a very long or short depending on how you perceived it, day.

Tuesday, we moved all the animals onto the fairgrounds an so began a long week of 6am to 8pm days. Feeding, fitting, showing, and generally watching our children have the time of their lives! Nothing beats fair time when you are a child. I remember quite well how I looked forward to fair week, showing my lambs and hanging with all my friends from around the county. It’s a time of freedom, competition, hard work and all the corn dogs you can shove into your gullet! If you are lucky at the end of the week your animal sells at auction, leaving you with a budget for next year’s project.

Jacy couldn’t attend the fair as our fear of contamination from an unknown source lingered like a dark cloud. It was hard for her to stay home, not able to participate in her children’s adventures during the week. I tried my best to send her pictures and keep her updated, as did every other person with a camera from our loving little town. She had planned on attending show day with a HEPA mask, but other people from medical places had different plans for my wife unbeknownst to her. So pictures continued arriving via text from many of the moms wanting to ensure house ridden Jacy wasn’t missing a moment with her children. Small towns are a blessing.

Now if being stuck at home for this week wasn’t enough; Jacy’s doctor called to say her results from the last marrow draw we good. Residual Leukemia remained in small numbers so the best course of action was to move up the hysterectomy by a week!! Wait? A week? Yep you guessed it? That placed the surgery day smack dab on top of show day at the fair! The “other people” had spoken! Dream killers! So with a phone call, Jacy’s mom took the day off work, dropping everything to ensure her daughter was taken care of and her grandchildren had their father by their side on show day! I love my mother in law. Not many guys can say that I think. But I do. I think she is a pretty cool, whacky, funny lady who would do anything for her children.

So that brings me to the real gist of my reflection. The hysterectomy.

Hysterectomy is the surgical removal of the uterus. It may also involve removal of the cervix, ovaries, fallopian tubes and other surrounding structures.

Usually performed by a gynecologist, hysterectomy may be total (removing the body, fundus, and cervix of the uterus; often called “complete”) or partial (removal of the uterine body while leaving the cervix intact; also called “supracervical”). It is the most commonly performed gynecological surgical procedure. In 2003, over 600,000 hysterectomies were performed in the United States alone, of which over 90% were performed for benign conditions.[1] Such rates being highest in the industrialized world has led to the major controversy that hysterectomies are being largely performed for unwarranted and unnecessary reasons.[2]

Removal of the uterus renders the patient unable to bear children (as does removal of ovaries and fallopian tubes) and has surgical risks as well as long-term effects, so the surgery is normally recommended when other treatment options are not available or have failed. It is expected that the frequency of hysterectomies for non-malignant indications will fall as there are good alternatives in many cases.[3]

Oophorectomy (removal of ovaries) is frequently done together with hysterectomy to decrease the risk of ovarian cancer. However, recent studies have shown that prophylactic oophorectomy without an urgent medical indication decreases a woman’s long-term survival rates substantially and has other serious adverse effects.[4] This effect is not limited to pre-menopausal women; even women who have already entered menopause were shown to have experienced a decrease in long-term survivability post-oophorectomy ~ Wikipedia

That’s right, in the middle of all we as a family had going on this particular week, combined with the fact my wife was just starting to feel better, a hyterectomy was thrown into the mix! Why? Because she cannot have the Bone Marrow Transplant without it! Why? Because she has Polycystic Ovary Syndrome!

I know right? So what is Polycystic Overian Sysndrome?

Polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS), also called hyperandrogenic anovulation (HA),[1] or Stein–Leventhal syndrome,[2] is a set of symptoms due to a hormone imbalance in women.[3] Symptoms include: irregular or no menstrual periods, heavy periods, excess body and facial hair, acne, pelvic pain, trouble getting pregnant, and patches of thick, darker, velvety skin.[4] Associated conditions include: type 2 diabetes, obesity, obstructive sleep apnea, heart disease, mood disorders, and endometrial cancer.[3]

PCOS is due to a combination of genetic and environmental factors.[5] Risk factors include obesity, not enough physical exercise, and a family history of someone with the condition.[6] Diagnosis is based on two of the following three findings: no ovulation, high androgen levels, and ovarian cysts.[3] Cysts may be detectable by ultrasound. Other conditions that produce similar symptoms include adrenal hyperplasia, hypothyroidism, and hyperprolactinemia.[7]

PCOS has no cure.[8] Treatment may involve lifestyle changes such as weight loss and exercise. Birth control pills may help with improving the regularity of periods, excess hair, and acne. Metformin and anti-androgens may also help. Other typical acne treatments and hair removal techniques may be used.[9] Efforts to improve fertility include weight loss, clomiphene, or metformin. In vitro fertilization is used by some in whom other measures are not effective.[10]

PCOS is the most common endocrine disorder among women between the ages of 18 and 44.[11] It affects approximately 5% to 10% of this age group.[6] It is one of the leading causes of poor fertility.[3] The earliest known description of what is now recognized as PCOS date from 1721 in Italy.[12]

When you have a bone marrow transplant in conjunction with heavy doses of chemotherapy the whole “heavy nonstop menstrual cycle” has life threatening consequences. So no argument to be had, out with that Uterus! Buh bye!

Now this particular operation seems simple enough, it is an outpatient procedure after all. Go in at 2pm be out and home by 8! Whoo hoo, like going out for dinner, only there is no food, no wine, no husband and only 6-8 of your not so closest friends turning your guts into a Jacy frappe!

8 pm became 2am when she arrived home it was obvious she was dealing with incredible pain. After helping her upstairs, getting her settled into bed, I knew it was going to be a rough night for us both. She slept most of the next day as the children and I ran back and forth from the fairgrounds. But with her mom at her side she was well cared for. Day two led to a Pit Viper like attitude due to swelling, pain and a resurgence of hives covering her body or more specifically the incision sight. Day three brought a few smiles and a lighter attitude. Today the swelling remains, her body aches and the hives just refuse to subside.

So we continue to take each moment one day at a time. It sounds as though once healed up from this latest procedure she will head back to the hospital for five more days of chemotherapy in preparation for the bone marrow transplant which should take place sometime in June.

That was our week, glad I could bring everyone up to speed. Just another notch on the old day to day, week to week, month to month belt. Our spirits are still high as we march forward towards complete remission.

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And now to the anchor desk for an update!

theycallmebetty5 Comments

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Wednesday morning we arrived inside Kaiser Vallejo room H22 at 0600. Jacy signed herself in and before long an elderly volunteer attendant called our name. She was in her 70’s and struggled a bit to stay on task. Her manner was direct as there was an apparent agenda to follow judging by the clipboard she maintained a death grip upon. It was obvious with her demeanor we were one of her first for the day but definitely wouldn’t be her last. I tried my hardest taking her seriously but every time we made eye contact I swear her wig moved a tad off kilter from one side to the next. She was sweet, a bit confused at times, but doing the very best job she could. I pictured her as a young military nurse either late in WW2 or during the Korean War. She just had that way about her. It was definitely a pleasure meeting her.

She scooped Jacy up and the two scurried away towards a prep room, her finger pointed my direction ordering me politely to sit and stay inside the waiting room. There was a large television inside the waiting room showing a row of numbers on the screens left side with colored bars running towards the right. These numbers were very reminiscent of college I.D. numbers used for testing purposes. Each number was assigned to a patient. A color bar associated with each number identifies which stage of treatment your loved one (patient) currently resides. It was a nice little system, allowing family members to know exactly what’s happening without constantly barraging the attendants for answers.

The old dame came back into the waiting room after around fifteen minutes, staring at her clipboard while trying her best to pronounce my last name. (Good luck right?) Reaching my feet she wanted confirmation that I was in fact Jacy’s husband? My first instinct was to remind her we had in fact talked not more than fifteen minutes ago and at no time during those fifteen minutes had I rushed out, found an attorney, judge and open courtroom to obtain a legal divorce! Anyways my mother taught me better, so politely I smiled and nodded yes! Yes I was still Jacy’s husband. Her retort was: phew! I almost had you confused with that gentleman over there who is wearing a shirt similar to yours. Watching her wipe her brow and shake a little more it was then I decided I loved her, she was perfect and nothing could possibly go wrong today! She motioned for me to follow her. She walked quickly and with purpose down a long hallway, explaining hospital rules for visiting; where I should sit, what I should say, while pointing out every door, corner and hallway, so when the time came I could find my way back. I bit my tongue for I didn’t want her to see me chuckling as she was quite serious and still cute as a button!

Moving into the prep room area which consisted of a long rectangular room housing multiple cubicle style, curtain separated mini rooms, lining the walls all the way around its corridor. A bed was placed inside each cubicle complete with computer, I.V. stands, oxygen, Sp02/heart monitor and so on. Jacy laid upon a bed, I.V. in place, one piece backless gown, the fashion rave of all hospitals, securely affixed and a hair net. It was quite odd a woman who holds not one scrap of hair to her body needed a hair net? But I suppose rules are rules.

Jacy smiled, I sat beside her and listened as her anesthesiologist went over procedures, how she would feel, along with what to expect. He was a curt German man with a fairly strong German accent. Now every German I have ever met has an incredible dry sense of humor (which I LOVE) and after a few moments of my wife and I winking at each other while dropping one liners his direction, he proved to be no different. He was witty, charming and an very interesting man to talk with. I was sad we didn’t get to spend more time with him.

Dr. Truong arrived, all smiles as always. She is hands down the coolest doctor I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I cannot believe how above and beyond I feel she has gone with my wife. They have created an actual friendship outside of the doctor/patient relationship. Of course once you meet my wife it is very hard not to become her friend. We chatted about the marrow draw, how long it would take under sedation and she reaffirmed how sorry she was Mondays draw couldn’t be completed back in her office. It was understandable, Jacy just could not take any more pain, and with 6 prior draws from the same site, number 7 just wasn’t going to happen. We all kept talking as supplies were gathered and everyone laughed at a few self-deprecating jokes targeting us both. We laughed and told stories about our families and when the doctor gave her a dose of Versed which he explained allows the patient to forget the surgical experience; I looked him in the eye reiterating the whole she’ll forget everything portion to which he looked confused and stated; yes she will forget. Not wasting any time I grabbed Jacys hand announcing loudly there was something I needed to tell her! (Pause for effect)  Everyone started cracking up and Jacy nodded off to sleep with a smile on her face!

40 minutes later Dr. Truong found me to report everything went as planned. She gave me a giant hug and asked how I was doing? I said fine, she smiled and we talked about what the future held for our girl. Basically it comes down to this marrow draw and the panel being tested. If Leukemia has resurfaced, off to chemotherapy we go. If little to no Leukemia is present, then off to receive a hysterectomy, followed with a few weeks rest and then? ANOTHER ROUND OF CHEMO!!!!! YAYYYYYY! Dr.Truong says Jacy is the perfect candidate! She is young, strong, and has handled chemotherapy better than most patients. Jacy also has a type of Leukemia which is chronic so the transplant is a must. There are some interesting markers hidden within her Leukemia cells or blasts that could be cause for concern, but doc thinks they are very manageable and if they become unmanageable there are some new experimental drugs with great success rates! So all things look great!

Once the final round of chemo is finished, we set the date and prepare for Stanford and a Bone Marrow transplant! Best case scenario we are looking to be in Stanford around the middle to end of June!

So keep the prayers coming! We feel them, Jacy definitely feels them. We are continually grateful to all who are following us in this journey, holding us and our family up in prayer.

God bless you all..

There is light..

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Home…

Home is where the heart is.. Piny the elder

Love begins by taking care of the closest ones, the ones at home.. Mother Teresa

The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned… Maya Angelou

Imagine if you will, life has thrown you a curve, well ok, more like life has thrown you a curve and you forgot not only your uniform, ball cap, mitt, cleats and cup but you weren’t even looking in the general direction as this curve, this speeding 90 miles an hour curve ball hits you square in the head! (Sorry I love baseball, my blog, my analogy)

Now just as you get up, dust yourself off in preparation for righting this horrific wrong, this lack of observation on the field; coach comes out and says your contracts been cancelled. You no longer have a home. Years of familiarity, friendships, camaraderie, and your family (the team) gone with a simple decision. All done while following well written rules allowing others to decide your future.

That is how it seemed yesterday when we began discussing care for Jacy.  You see, after a bone marrow or Allogenic Transplant, there is five or so days still confined to a hospital room but as soon as your white cells begin to act appropriately you are released for out-patient care.  No big deal right? Wrong..

We live over two hours away and learned that all patients must live within a one hour maximum radius to ensure rapid response from the appropriate physicians should a dire medical emergency arise. Also there would be numerous doctors appointments that could only be held at Stanford.  So with high traffic flows and population density this limited our choices for a recovery lair. Stanford has housing available near campus, but we had been warned those are hardest of all domiciles to acquire.  Our next best location for Stanford provided housing was in and around the San Jose area.  Although tempting, something didn’t feel right in my wife’s heart about abandoning her family and San Jose just seemed so far away from Stanford and home. If you need to be confined unwillingly then right next to campus seemed the most prudent course of action.

Either way three months away from home, away from her children and farm. None of it felt right and it was eating her alive.  As we listened to contractual stipulations ensuring all healthcare recipients were in full understanding of terms and agreements, it felt so wrong to have such a momentous life shift bring further pain through separation.

All the way home she felt as though her life was being ripped away.  She couldn’t grasp the reality of having to live so far away.  No matter where she ended up for those three months her sister would be with her as she needed 24 hour care.  But just the premise of her children being so far away while she stayed in a foreign place with surroundings unfamiliar was eating her alive.

It was bothering me as well.  Although I fully understood the reasoning’s behind these decisions we had no control over, I just wanted to make things easier. Not just for her, but for our children.

And then yesterday it hit me, her dads house. He has an apartment off the main house that could be kept clean, her sister would then still be home, her family would be surrounding her, and we could come visit in a place familiar to our children. A place where they could see their mom, love on their mom and then go off to play with cousins. A place where her rehab was surrounded by peaceful redwoods and stunning views of the silicon valley!  It was the perfect set-up! After talking about it with her family everyone was on board!!! Our only glitch! In the paperwork defining areas of acceptance, the Saratoga mountain range was excluded.  A case may have to be fought and fought hard I pondered! For you see travel time from her dads house to Stanford is 35 minutes, there is minimal traffic from the route we take and that alone makes it closer than San Jose!

Every family members fingers remained crossed as Jacy called the social worker today in hopes of pleading a case.  A case built around what her entire family felt was best for the patient, their sister, daughter, mother and wife. Total family care, a place that is like a second home, and peace of mind for all involved.  Cant we please overlook the Saratoga mountain range clause? PLEASE?????

The answer; YES!!!!!

That is right our first ray of light through this medical tunnel of darkness! No argument, no pandering, just a good old-fashioned yes! Of course this after the social worker mapped it ensuring all was above-board! We heard Yes!!! I almost leapt from my seat upon hearing the news! She was ecstatic, I was relieved, her fathers fears eased and an entire family able to give this woman we love all the support she needs!

Our first hurdle down and it was a psychologically big one!

Tomorrow brings another day and something, anything to look forward too.

Every minute of every second of every day…….

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I have not written in a while and for that I apologize. Today while thinking about my children, watching the news and looking into the eyes of some of our youth. This came to me. I don’t know what it means, but once I started typing I could not stop.

Every minute of every second of every day, we grow older. Life moves before us at an astonishing rate, faster than our minds are able to fully comprehend. In reality we stand frozen facing the hourglass of life, witnessing what appears as agonizing seconds, thunderous ticking of a tock, movement that seems to stand still as life revolves at a pace that is not to our liking and yet we breathe.

Breathing an absurdity that is our arrogance. For as we breathe we continue to expire and yet no reality of decay meets comprehension. It is within our egotistic nature to face the hands of time and laugh. Laugh through our young mouths as we expire, laugh with our condescending young minds as we inhale, laugh and laugh some more, for we fear not what may lay ahead when youth is our only guide. We fear not what lies ahead when youth is our only means, we fear not what lies ahead for we have never known otherwise.

Every minute of every second of every day we are older, we are wiser, and once age has gripped us tightly we slowly become irrelevant. The youth of this world hears not what we say, they hear not what we have to offer, and they fear not the repercussion of blind foolishness. Though we have learned through experience, though we know from pain, though we still struggle with suffering, we have mentally surrendered to the tick tock, we stand brave faced into the hands of time ignoring what we could never have known and yet we are to be considered by youthful brigades as obsolete.

Breathing in we struggle with ignorance of youth along with an hypocrisy that is born of our own. For through inspiration knowledge falls away, sloughing from the skin of an aged arm, what little remains unused, thrown to the wind by the deafness of youth. Exhalation of life reveals that our future is of our own making; its remnants left from advice unheard throughout our journey of youth. Elders ignored, a blind eye turned to the very history we were scorned for not abiding.

The world, our future, our children’s future can never be realized until the hand of youth joins with the strength of age. Youthful creativity meeting elderly knowledge, young love and passion mixed with aged temperance, wide-eyed exuberance with sometimes narrow but skilled guidance. One melded with another, not two separate living beings fighting for space and time to no real conclusion.

Every minute of every second of every day we grow older, and unless we understand a world will always turn, a day will turn to-night and then to-day again and soon what came from nothing will return to nothing. There will never be a unified progression.

We all leave this world with only what we chose to share.

I choose to share love, wisdom, peace and tolerance for all. Some days are harder than others, the fight for tolerance on all levels is tough, but I have been guided by many great people who imparted wisdom that remains heard though they are gone. Hopefully my children or the youth, will understand, listen and realize that one day they too will be older, they must share, understand and guide others.

For every minute of every second of every day will soon be over.

What else do I have to leave behind, what else do we all have to leave behind but love?

 

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2015- I cant wait to meet you.

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AND NOW A TRIP DOWN MEMORY LANE…

On January 1, 2014 I wrote this piece, posting it on the 2nd. My 2015 post is at the bottom of the page..

The Face of Leukemia 2014

Posted on January 2, 2014 by

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2014 Day 1……..

364 days to live.

364 days to wake up every morning, count our blessing and live. 364 days to write a new and exciting story! You see my dearies pontificating New Years resolutions involving the standard fare of weight loss, higher education, finding love, spending more time with our children, adding onto the house, finding a better job, saving more money, vacationing more, visiting family and friends and so on and so on is just not my style this year. But watching my wife live is.

364 days, until I can count 365 more days of life lived, 365 days written into the history books of our family. Cancer has this funny way of cheating you from a reality lived by so many others, changing the way your life story is told.  Cancer also has a way of sticking in your craw like an annoying persons laugh or an itch you just cant scratch.  It’s there, no one else can see it, no one else can feel it, only those who have it, or love someone burdened by it understand, yet the rest of the world just goes on with its business of worrying about resolutions for which a majority will sadly never achieve.

A new year a new fear.

We are winning this battle! Jacys superwoman body has done incredibly well! The last bone marrow draw showed no signs of Leukemia swimming in her blood, lurking in the darkness like an evil monster. Consolidation therapy starts on Monday and she will begrudgingly return to the hospital for 5 days of chemotherapy.  Her strength is back, she is feisty as ever, feeding horses in the morning and an occasional walk in the afternoon! (rumor has it she was spotted jogging on a levee, but its only a rumor) The next round of therapy will knock her down again and from what we understand recovery gets harder each time she finishes a session. She will come home weaker and a little sicker. Chemotherapy is not for the light-hearted, these patients (my wife included) are my heroes as I have witnessed the strain it places on the human body.  Yet Super Jacy has never deterred from her mission. Kicking cancers ass one cell at a time!

A fear still remains though. What if it (Leukemia) comes back? What if her white blood cell count doesn’t recover? What if she catches a common cold during these periods, (something that could kill her) what if?????? These are fears we will live with for the rest of our lives.  Every cough that arises, every sniffly nose, every fever, every-time she feels run down, for the rest of her life she will need to go have blood drawn and see the doctor. 3 more times to go, 3 more week-long sessions, three more weeks of hell.  In the end, a small price to pay to live. Jacy promised me she loved me enough to beat this, she is keeping her word.

Day 1…. Today began our 2014 journey and Jacy spent it the only way she knew how.

It was a day filled with visiting friends, making her children laugh, planning a birthday party for her son and wondering whether or not to shave the small patches of hair fighting against the laws of chemistry. Little strands hanging on for dear life, trying their very best to make my wife look like a chia pet. Biggest decision of the day? Shave the head or let those little hairs grow only to meet an untimely death in 4 days.

With the beginning of a new year I wonder about the thousands of other spouses, significant others, and children all living and loving someone close to them with Leukemia. I worry about the ones who struggle to support their loved ones without the means of expression such as writing brings to me.  Do they lay in bed at night afraid of the darkness, wondering how long, why them, all while scooting a little closer to the one they love just to feel their body heat. Are they ok, do they know its ok to feel the way they feel, can they find peace? I am sure they do and I am just rambling, but its in my nature to worry about everyone and everything.

So welcome 2014! I welcome you with open arms (and Betty’s arms are plenty big enough) for the hug of a lifetime! 2014 we hope you are filled with many misadventures, happiness and love! But most of all 2014, we pray you don’t leave us reeling like your bastard predecessor 2013 did! But if you do, not to worry, the story you tell will be interesting none the less…

364 days… The story begins right now…

images-18And what a story the year 2014 became.

2014 was indeed a year of highs and lows and yes I embraced it all with open arms.

Leukemia, sickness, emergency rooms, a torn up knee, a hurt back, a bum shoulder, my horse injured yet again.  An old friend lost while other old friends struggled to understand why?

A senior headed off to college, a Freshman headed to Nationals for rodeo, a daughter no longer scared of horses and trying her hardest to train them herself. A littlest son, discovering his love for art, painting, drawing, and creating.

Hundreds of new friends, family members united, a wife who Kicked Cancers Ass and cheated death!

2014 was indeed a challenge; it has left myself feeling many years older than my earthly age. I am tired, worn, raw, broken and quite frankly even though there were scattered good times, very glad to see it go!.  This year found me working hard at remaining mentally strong throughout the first half while floundering physically during the second half. It was indeed a struggle to keep a positive attitude at times, but thankfully I had an entire village of people supporting me, something I will never forget.

Highs and lows, isn’t that what its all about? Highs and lows?  We travel this pathway of life learning, absorbing, growing and hoping one day we understand what it all means. Changing, evolving, sculpting our little piece or niche that we can point to and claim as our own, our destiny, our end game.

I don’t know what’s in store for this year 2015. So many things swimming in my head about life, the future and what it may or may not hold for myself and our family. What direction our lives should take, both personally and professionally. What lays around the corner, hiding in the darkness? Are more demons waiting to rear their ugly heads, further terrify our souls or is this family finally going to see a silver lining surrounding us for some time to come? My fingers remain crossed…

Either way there is one thing I know for sure, I am and always have been a believer in new beginnings; that each day you arise from slumber a fresh day awaits you like a clean chalkboard, an empty etch a sketch, or a blank canvas just waiting for your creation.  No matter the pain felt inside, no matter the physical or mental limitations holding you down, and no matter the baggage carried by others in your name. A new day awaits. But one must remember, with a new day comes a responsibility to create, otherwise it is just that and nothing more. Only your vision achieved through hard work and positive thinking can mold an unforgettable day, a brighter week and eventually with time and practice a spectacular year.

No one can hand you these skills, no one can will you an outcome, steal success for you or force you into making changes you need to succeed. Just you, only you, and only through an ability to let go of the past and look forward to a brighter future.

So even though I am tired, worn, raw and broken, a new year is on the horizon and with it, anticipation for 364 more days of creation…

Betty thanks you for following me in 2014 and wishes you all the very happiest of New Years…. 2015 here we come!