Up the Hill, Down the Hill…….

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Up the hill, down the hill, up the hill, down the hill, using this reference explains our current extended BMT journey. Jacy’s progress as of late seems to be in an upward progression! So while we are currently running on a high, lets catch up and see where we are in regards to her possibly leaving the hospital at some point.

Here are the facts as we know them and hopefully this answers many of the questions I received during this last week.

She is eating solid food!

This is a good thing! No let me rephrase, this is an excellent stage in her recovery! The GVHD (Graf vs Host Disease) attacked her intestines and is the gravest of stages in regards to GVHD.  To help better understand what that actually means let me explain. Your intestines are filled with cells and follicles.  These cells and follicles take all forms of matter both solid and liquid, absorb and convert them into usable nutrients leaving any waste behind.  With GVHD your white cells (the new immune system) are working great, but they still dont quite recognize their new home. So whats a scared white cell to do? Well they form up and attack anything that freaks them out! Even with immunosuppression on board, these little buggers do a number on your system.  In this case her immune system attacked the cells and follicles inside her intestines, leaving her intestines looking a bit more like a solid PVC pipe. Smooth and clean.  Problem? She can no longer digest food, and if any food is introduced she will automatically bloat,  causing intense pain and constant diarrhea.

The Jakafi combined with steroids hopefully will allow her body time to regenerate new cells thus her new immune system will identify them as their own this being the only cure.  So eating solid food, albeit noodles, chicken stock or poached chicken is a sign we may be heading in the right direction.

She still cannot see.

Her eyesight is poor, very poor. Jacy’s eyes may clear up just enough to recognize someone for a short period of time, but for the most part it remains nothing more than a fuzzy white haze. This problem is derived from a combination of issues revolving around prolonged use of steroids, aconstant need for Lasix to control excessive fluid buildup brought forth from a mirage of IV’s she receives every day keeping her alive and drug induced diabetes. This issue is temporary (after 6 weeks now it feels like permanent to her) it will resolve itself over time.  We also understand she will have some form of permanent damage to her eyes.  This could be vision acuity issues; issues with her tear ducts, or both. She is going a bit stir crazy not being able to watch TV, more specifically Naked and Afraid!

She has developed diabetes.

Another issue being closely monitored as I slightly mentioned above. Drug/GVHD induced diabetes. In most cases this is a temporary side effect. It comes from your body’s inability to process anything thanks to GVHD. By having your nutrition constantly fed to you via IV against the wishes of an already pissed of immune system certain things happen and this just happens to be one of those side effects.  This is also temporary as the body begins to realign itself with a functioning digestive tract thus working more efficiently while producing a proper amount of insulin to help with nutrition processing.

She has massive muscle loss.

We all know and remember the Jacy who could teach two spin classes a day and sub for you in the evening if need be? Well those days are going to be over for a while; steroids are a nasty little business! Jacy has been bed ridden and in combination with all the medications including a massive continued dose of steroids, well there is nothing left. Jacy’s body has been reduced to half her size.  But here is the good part. IT IS JACY!!! Anyone who knows my wife, knows there is no way in hell she is going to stay down for long! Apparently her need to walk, move or exercise in any way forced staff to put her back on a bed alarm or pin her to her chair when ever she gets out of bed to sit upright for a while. She called me yesterday and with her best controlled Cuban temper explained in great detail that she is tired of being treated like a child! In her words: If I want to walk or get out of bed to pee gosh darn it I should be able to, right? RIGHT????

Yep that’s our girl, suck it GVHD, you dont know who you are messing with!!! Later that evening she called again to let me know her and George (nursing assistant) walked the entire quad. She was feeling pretty proud of herself and she should considering last week at this time she could barely move!

She has a bleeding bladder.

Jacy’s bladder has been bleeding since the transplant.  A side effect from some of the medications, it soon transitioned into an infection.  This little booger is tricky, as an infection it is to be treated treated with steroids and antibiotics. Some of these medications dont mix well with others, and Jackafi itself presents a new slew of challenges. Some medications make her blood clot, others will make her bladder spasm and then throw in Lasix creating a constant need for urination and her urinary tract becomes further irritated.  She could have a catheter placed but there is further risk of infection which we just can’t have right now. Another side effect becomes since she is losing blood constantly, she needs repeated transfusions of blood, or just platelets, either way, there is constant discomfort from these ongoing issues.

How is she being treated for GVHD?

There is a myriad of drugs being used to treat GVHD including what I have mentioned previously such as steroids, immunosupressors and the Jakafi. But she is also receiving Photopheresis. What is Photopheresis you ask? I found this little clip from the Cleveland clinic which I feel describes it best.

What is photopheresis?
Photopheresis or extracorporeal photoimmune therapy is a procedure that might be recommended by your doctor to prevent or to treat graft versus host disease (GvHD). This procedure offers another way to try to suppress the donor lymphocytes (type of white blood cells) that stimulate immune reactions and aid in the development of GvHD.

How long does the procedure last?
The photopheresis process lasts about 3 to 4 hours. You might require several photopheresis sessions before the desired results are achieved. Your doctor will develop an individual treatment plan for you based on your disease.

How is photopheresis done?
During photopheresis, blood is taken from one lumen of your central venous catheter and processed through a cell separation machine. This machine removes and treats your lymphocytes and then returns them and the rest of your blood through a different lumen in your central venous catheter.

When your blood first enters the machine, it is mixed with an anticoagulant medicine to prevent it from clotting. Then, the cell separation machine collects the lymphocytes from your blood and mixes them with the drug 8-methoxypsoralen or UVADEX. This is a photosensitizing agent that becomes active when it is exposed to ultraviolet light. The lymphocytes and UVADEX are next exposed to ultraviolet A light inside the machine. Lastly, the lymphocytes and the rest of your blood are re-infused to you through another lumen in your catheter.

How can this procedure help me?
By treating your lymphocytes during photopheresis, their function is altered. When the treated lymphocytes are re-infused, they will stimulate an immune response in your body to fight the development or progression of GvHD. Your doctor might use photopheresis alone or in combination with other treatments.

Everyday is filled with tests, procedures, blood draws, medications, and more. To say I think she is the strongest woman alive is an understatement. Of course there may be a bit of favoritism.

How long until she becomes an out patient?

We still dont know. Our families met with her new doctor on rotation last week. His main goal is to keep her going and hopefully we see a change. She is walking a line right now and the team’s goal is carefully assisting her by balancing all treatments and procedures without upsetting that balance.  She is being weaned down a tad from the steroids in hopes her body picks up the slack and begins to strengthen. So far it is working perfectly. Our main goal during treatment remains the same. NO INFECTIONS! One small infection could upset everything and we could be back to square one quickly.

Once Jacy is able to process solid food on her own 100% we know outpatient care is not far behind.  So far she has beaten all odds stacked against her! (as if any of us thought differently) And she struggles some days to stay positive but for the most part it is one day at a time and if she makes any physical progress (sitting for an extended period of time or walking) she feels like she is winning! This of course propels her into the next day!

She loves the cards, letters and prayers, they keep her smiling.  (We all know that smile, if you have forgotten look no further than the top of the page, it why I picked that picture) She understands each and every one of you are thinking of her, praying for her and feels that love all the way at Stanford.

Personally I remain stunned, and so very thankful for all the help we have been receiving. The generosity of so many is a bit hard to comprehend at times. We are just like any other family who has good days and bad. This community has gone way beyond for ours, I pray daily for the ability to handle it all, to keep a positive outlook, to stay open to all forms of assistance (something I am not good at) and to not let this tornado of a life overwhelm me. I also pray for those going through the very same struggles, both personally and for those they know, for you see something like this doesn’t just affect those stricken, it affect their families, friends and co-workers as well. And with that I am saying I pray for all of you.

We have but one, life, how we choose to live, behave and respond rests solely on us as humans and within our beliefs.

I believe in having faith.

Love to you all~ Betty

When a shower isnt a shower….

My chores are finished, children, horses, goats, chickens, ducks and dogs have all been fed. Walking onto the rear porch I look back as our ranch lays peacefully under a dusky sky, the sun bidding a final fair well. It is perfect.

Everyone has their own end to the day, a moment when the world stops and we are able to take a deep breath. Walking into the house the kids are chatting it up after dove hunting, and a hum of laundry shaking our houses foundation rattles off from the basement. Taking a moment to converse with each child, I relish in understanding the what, where’s and how’s of each of their days. My oldest has done another fine job of making sure homework is finished for me to check, their stomachs are full from the wonderful meals arriving and they have showered, washing away the days grime.

Ahhh the shower. Hot water rushing down my body, soap, a shave, it is all I look forward to each and every night. Its cleansing properties revitalizing me, relaxing my stressed out brain and allowing me the comfort of shorts and a t-shirt. My idea of pajamas.

I never realized just how much we take for granted the prospect of having a shower. While in Haiti showers were a luxury, yet our group was allowed a cold bucket shower each and every night during our first trip. The second trip to Haiti a year later left us an even greater asset, actual bathrooms with tiled showers! So we never really lost that sense of what it is like to not shower, to be clean.

Now there is always camping but I say; Camping doesn’t count! Most camping trips it is a rite of passage to see how many days one can go without showering! Of course being the manly men we portray ourselves to be, it never matters what our mouths and egos have arranged for a final shower date! In the end our wives, girlfriends or significant others ultimately pull the “you stink” card demanding a shower now or sleep alone, outside with mosquitos the size of VW Bugs. Yes dear!!!

Yesterday morning my wife called me. Now first off I was super excited that she could see the phone well enough to locate my caller ID! But then she tossed out this very exuberant statement: I took a shower on my own today and it was heaven!

You see Jacy hasn’t been able to see or get out of bed due to lack of muscle strength and motor skills, so to hear her say that she had in fact taken a shower on her own was, well, heart stopping! After congratulating her my first question was did you need any assistance? She said no because she was bad ass that way! We laughed and while she recounted every water drop and how wonderful it made her feel as she sat there basking in its warmth I thought to myself. How long has it been?

Before I could ask, she blurted out how much she missed being able to shower for herself, to wash herself, to feel independent enough to care for herself! It had been roughly 17 days of sponge baths, bath wipes and lots of cream or powder. 17 days of having multiple people handle you, wash you, and manipulate your body for efficiency while undertaking this task. Yes the nurses there are phenomenal, yes they care for each and every person like they were family. But when you barley have enough energy to eat let alone wash yourself how quickly would having multiple people handling your hygiene get old? Not to mention leaving you feeling just a tad bit defeated?

She went on and on, it was awesome to hear her happy, her voice still cracking, sounding horse and dry, but happy. Who knew the simple act of a shower (something we take for granted) would become an extraordinary event, allowing her to regain control of her life if even for just a few moments.

Which leads me to an update: Jacy is getting stronger, her doctor told me the day before yesterday they will continue weaning her off of steroids. The experimental drug Jakafi is still holding its own which is a good sign for now. There is still a plan B drug in place should there become an issue with continued use of Jakafi. Her eyesight remains blurry with bouts of clarity. Even though she won’t recognize it out of sheer frustration, it appears to me as though she is having more moments of almost being able to see than not, another good sign! Random misspelled texts lend proof to my theory! Her sense of humor is improving with each little victory and as of this very moment she is on a phone call with a BMT, GVHD survivor who like her had stage 4 GVHD, was in the hospital for a very lengthy stay and in the end he survived. He is a teacher who is currently back at work and living his life to the fullest. More to come on what transpired during that conversation. She is a fighter, and doing so the only way she knows how, with grit. Thank you all once again for the continued support and prayer.

Oh? One of those calls….

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Why must you ring? Why?

One of “those” calls, the phone call we all dread.

We all know the story, have heard it recounted a million times whether through a friend or family, on television or in the movies. This haunting recollection is always recounted like an old wives tale and for some strange reason it chills even more so simply through its timing. Midnight to 5am.

The phone rings, its 4am. Nothing good comes from a phone call at 4am. No one I know lives on the other side of this big round world just waiting to chat my night away, no one I know has been counting down the minutes to converse with me during what would be considered to any other normal human being, bedtime? No one. Not one, single, solitary person.

So that means when the phone rings at 4am it is without a doubt bad news, it always means at 4am that it is bad news. Right? Publishers Clearing house is not calling to inform me I just won 10 million dollars at 4am! Although they could, seriously PCH call anytime, PLEASE!!!!!

It rings, I don’t hear it. Sound asleep, weary from a long emotionally charged week my body is in deep REM sleep. Somewhere in my dream there is an apparition yelling at me to arise, screaming to wake up, something is not right! I wearily crack an eye to a very dark bedroom only to recognize the sound of a voicemail populating my electronic gadget of life.

Heart rate doubles instantly like an electric shock, as though the bell has just gone off at the fire station and I hear the words “Structure Fire”. Bam! I am awake! Searching fumbling for the phone, fear instantly grips me, thoughts, horrible thoughts of what may be; enter my brain! They keep coming as my fingers can’t quite grasp this stupid phone! Nothing is working! Squinting hard, no recognition is working and I can’t find my damn glasses to see since my fear induced jolt knocked them off the nightstand. Like Ralphy from a Christmas story I carefully search the floor praying I don’t take a misstep thus hearing the cracking of a shattering lens.

I have them! I can see, hitting voicemail a somber, I am guessing through dialect Asian gentlemen calmly explains Jacy has been moved to ICU. Her O2 saturation is poor, her breathing is labored, her red cells are down and she is in need of one on one care. If I have any questions to call.

Thank God! She is still ok!

I lay down for a moment to stare at the ceiling.

Once the emotions are out of my system, my heart rate has returned to normal and I’m done being scared, a thought crosses my mind. Why? Why does a late night call always bring the worst instantaneously from our subconscious? I know history, tales of woe and an assumed perception of the worst has everything to do with it. But I just wish there was a way I could shake that thought process from my mind. Anywhoo, this is how my week was to begin, with a single, heightened, middle of the early morning phone call.

After arriving to the hospital, doctors announce she had contracted a form of pneumonia giving her grief which explained why her breathing had been so labored. Her doctors said the GVHD was still responding well to the experimental drug Jakafi and their hopes remained positive as far as continuing to slowly wean her from all steroids which would help with her continued muscle deterioration. She has recently developed diabetes which is being treated accordingly and is also one piece of the picture in regards to her continued loss of vision. On Wednesday she participated in a bronchoscopy which did not make our girl happy at all, having a camera shoved down your throat when you have no strength to fight left her feeling a bit more helpless. By Thursday for some reason she had reverted completely and was back to feeling a failure in her recovery. She needed all our love and care to snap her back into her super woman fighting spirit!

I contracted some form of a cold and have not been able to see her which has been difficult to say the least. It is hard when the woman you love wants you with her more than anything and there is nothing you can do but stay on top of your medications and pray this stupid cold goes away quickly.

She wants to come home, it is all she thinks about! She wants to see her children, to hold them to watch them, to simply sit down and do homework, participate in their lives. On days she feels like quitting all it takes is reminding her what’s waiting for her at home and we can usually snap her out of a funk.

As of today Jacy is doing much better. This incident happened on Tuesday morning and although there have been a few bumps in the road for the most part she has held her own. The tests came back from the bronchoscopy and she has HVV6 a herpes virus we all carry to some extent, it masks itself in a few ways including pneumonia. Good news is she was already being treated with the appropriate medications so a minor adjustment and we shall see in a week. Jacy can no longer walk as her muscles have finally weakened. She still has limited use of her eyes which has been the hardest on her. She works very hard at staying mentally strong which after 67 days can be a bit daunting for a person who is used to doing everything for herself. Thanks to the help of her family she can sit in a chair for about 45 minutes without assistance, she is participating in physical therapy daily which includes the use of bands giving her muscles some resistance. She recently was placed on a special air mattress to help with her bed sores. She is seriously one tough cookie and my hero.

Our family thanks everyone who continues to pray, help, and care. She is the light of our lives, the toughest woman I know and she will come home. It just may be a while..

Hopefully I don’t get another one of “those” calls…

12:11 Sunday: Just in as I place the final touches on this latest edition!! HVV6 responding well, her lungs are clearing up! She is off oxygen and finally saturating in the high 90’s on her own. She has also been moved from liquids restrictions and will be able to consume fluids which means solid foods are not far behind!

Keep those prayers coming, she needs prayers of strength to help her mentally feel like she is improving, keeping her spirits high!

What do I say?

What do I say?

The woman I love lies in a room far away, alone. She says everything will be ok, she says she will win this fight, she says she has faith, she says…… She says she misses me.

I have often wondered; what is love? The movies would have you believe it’s a look, a moment, an encounter filled with music and rainbows, strangers meeting on a balcony with electricity shooting through their veins as they saunter off into storybook bliss. In reality love comes in all forms, at any moment. I believe love isn’t always apparent, it sneaks up on you when you least expect it or comes from a direction never envisioned. Sometimes love is seen through Gods eyes not yours. You learn this when asked to follow him, trust him like no other, no matter what anyone says, no matter who passes judgement because you know what you feel is love.

Love means seeing things through another’s eyes, not your own. Putting aside personal aspirations or needs to put someone else on a pedestal, even if just for a moment. Sometimes I don’t want to put anything aside or see through another’s eyes and I fight with my own selfishness, but love means knowing without a doubt that anger will never betray your feelings and forgiveness comes easy because you know love.

Love is having a sense of humor no matter the situation. Life is filled with funny moments experienced through both happiness and tragedy. Although there will be some who don’t envision any humor you portray, a moment remains funny none the less and it is love allowing temperance for another’s inability to embrace your vision of humor.

Love comes from holding someone’s hand. Happy, sad, or simply a comforting moment shared between two people for any number of reasons. Old, young, sick or healthy, to hold someone’s hand is a gift given that I think we take for granted. Human contact in it’s most basic form yields love.

Love means blindness. In a society that consumes hate like a Thanksgiving dinner and breeds intolerance for self centered glorification, to love regardless is a powerful statement. We are all born the same, with love in our hearts it is how we are raised that enables societies need. Love, true indomitable love conquers all roadblocks placed in our paths, thus destroying any hate others need to survive.

Jacy was brought to me through God, she taught me to believe in others again. I am sure I have said this before, but she took an broken angry man by the hand, against what all others wanted and showed me how to trust in myself and believe in love. She loves everyone and shows that love every day. She can be angry as a corned mountain lion while in the same breath forgiving as a priest. She challenges me and shows me how to be a better man every day.

I know what love is; it is my wife.

Our house is not the same. The sounds of children give it life, there is a warmth that comes from watching four of your offspring actually working together, laughing, and acting as though they enjoy each other’s company. Even with their mother absent, they are trying hard to keep some semblance of normalcy. They miss her greatly, but know I need their help so they have put aside many of their trivial arguments, moments of discontent and are working hard to keep this machine that is our life running smoothly. But even with all their efforts our house is not the same.

My bed is empty. I am the type of guy who would drive 36 hours straight, just to sleep next to my wife as opposed to alone in a hotel room somewhere. Pillows are stacked high, placed appropriately to simulate her missing silhouette. Where some may take this opportunity to stretch out, explore the generally off-limits other side of the bed I look at it as a sacred place. A place where only she sleeps, her heavy breathing absent, a constant rustle from restless leg syndrome under the covers, the glow from her ipad no longer lighting up the room at 1am, even her scent has begun to fade.

I cannot sleep.. The day keeps me busy enough. I have always believed to be a good husband you should do as much as you can as often as you can to assist your wife. I know it drives her crazy when she vents about something and I immediately try fixing the problem! It is just the way I am hardwired, I am a fixer by nature, it cannot be helped! There is nothing to fix here, I have only my problems, my harried schedule, my heartburn and stress and there is nothing I can do about it. So I just lay here looking at the ceiling; wondering if she is sad and feeling alone. I can’t sleep.

My heart aches for this time lost. I don’t understand why we are doing this? What on earth led us to this point? I just want her to be here at home! To be with us all the time! Her laughter, her smile, her goofy ass ways! I long for the moments when her goofiness drove me crazy!!! She is missing out on her children, her animals, her marriage and I want desperately to find someone to blame!! But who or what do I blame? There is no one, nothing, it is what it fucking is and that is bullshit! There is no getting back this time lost from her life, like a patient awakening from a coma to wonder what is, what was; my heart aches.

What do I say to people who ask how she is? The truth is too painful and to lie, well a lie is just a dishonorable thing to promote. I don’t mind keeping everyone abreast of Jacy’s condition, it does help others to better understand the severity of her situation along with the suffering of others traveling down this very same path. But what do I say to those whose hopes read far too much into my accounts. We all have hopes, but it’s hard to keep pacifying those with no intentions on hearing the truth. Do I keep telling it like it is or do I falsify my facts for a softer, gentler outcome during conversation? Some days it can become so intense a small bead of sweat rolls down my back and while looking for a legitimate out my eyes scan the room for the woman who would always save me in situations like this, but wait that woman is who we are talking about. She is not coming, she lays undisturbed in a hospital room 100 miles away. So what do I say..

Her kiss. When I married my wife it was her kiss which solidified our union. Your wife may have a nice kiss, but my wife, well… Today there is no kiss, tonight none as well, I long for her kiss, as it settles me when I am angry or tense. The only kiss I get now is through a mask, it is not the same and is always followed with how much she needs me. I need her too, yet it’s my heart that needs one of her kisses.

Some days I feel like I am failing.. Trying to be everything to everybody takes a toll. I have plenty of help and a routine that is working well. A community graciously at my beck and call, I am blessed. The kids are fine, the animals are doing well and the ranch is running fairly smooth, but I can’t help but feel like I am failing. My heart wants to be next to her every minute of every day. She is small and frail, no longer the strong woman who could run 24 miles then teach two spin classes in a day. She can no longer see and can barely walk to the bathroom which has left her with a fall protection device upon her bed. She longs for the ability to just stand up without running out of air, then needing to sit down just as fast as she stood. I am not there to help her, to make her walk, my schedule leaves me going every three days and it is not enough! I am her husband, her best friend, I promised to care for her in sickness and in health and yet I am not there! She should not have to cry alone, or act surprised when she sees me because it’s been to long between visits! My world is running so fast while her life is locked down, frozen, like the hour hand of a clock running in slow motion! I know this is what she wants, she tells me every few days is fine, she needs a happy routine for her children. There is no reason both of us should be absent and she is right! Sometimes I hate when she is right for I only want to be selfish and only think of her! Yet to see her sad and missing me, well, some days I feel like a failure.

So what do I say?……

Can someone please tell me what I am supposed to say? Can you? Place yourself in these shoes, stand tall because it is how you were raised to handle adversity, look into your children’s eyes daily, and hope you don’t give away too much while praying for an answer to come soon. I have become weary of sadness, tired of worry, tired of being scared, tired of being without my wife, my best friend and partner in crime. I have grown tired of being me. Wondering constantly while holding her as she worries about her life, her children, her home, her friends, the ones she loves, as she worries about my wellbeing  if she can remain strong enough. I know she can’t see me but I hold her and look into her eyes anyways because I know she can envision the look of love coming from my face ..

What do I say?………

The answer? There is nothing to say. I will keep moving forward, making life appear seamless for my family even though it is far from so. She needs to know all is well, that I am well, and her sole purpose in life is to heal then come home. She needs to know the fight is not me, the fight remains against her disease. My job as her husband, as the man who loves her more than she will ever know is to continue on, support her anyway I can while quietly, carefully caring for the life we have built together, forever.

What do I say?

I say, I love you….

I wrote this a few days ago. I have held onto to it, not wanting to post it, fueling a panic button that I may just be losing it a bit. In reality after reading it over and over again, it is the way I feel. It is the way I believe many would feel about their significant other in the same situation. Why? Because I do believe in love.

This morning  (August 19) Jacy can finally see a little better. The latest from the doctor in regards to the experimental drug is her body has accepted it and she is currently (his words) on a slight “uptick” from the median line of survival we are all hanging onto. This is great news! Although things can change for any reason at any time, the fighter that is my wife is coming through! This weekend they wean her off more of the steroids and up her drug a tad bit more.

So I kept it another couple of days. As of August 22, she had a little slide. The pain pump is back in place, she has severe edema so she is receiving Lasix again hoping to shed the fluid. A catheter has also been re-installed as her bladder refuses to quit bleeding. The plan remained the same as steroids continue to be weaned and the experimental program continues.

So please keep her in your prayers. I am fine, that is why I write. Writing allows me a freedom and ability to say what I feel, share it with others who may feel the same way, helping to cleanse my soul and recharge my emotions to handle the next moment, day or week.

Thank you for that….   Betty.

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Buckle up Buttercup!

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Timidly pullIng down the strap, buckling in tight, yes my nerves are raw, emotions high but with a feeling of optimism coursing through my veins. I knew this was going to be a hell of a ride, after all I had done my homework, read the memo’s and calculated all risks associated with this procedure. Life is filled with the unexplained, the where’s and whys, but life can also be explained through formulas, numbers, and equations the basis of fact.

In my world I live on a combination of hard facts and grey areas derived through trial and error, or accumulated experiences. Some days bring solid steadfast results, other days bring gloom and despair but mostly we consistently work within that grey area of operations, teetering between facts and gut reactions. There is something to be said about going with your gut! While floating in the cranial membrane of greyish indecision it has always worked well for me.

So today whilst arriving at Stanford to meet with Jacy’s primary doctor, I really had no questions as through many days and nights absorbing information, regurgitating said information for consumption and pondering the wealth of answers in regards to my wife’s previous, current and future care I felt fairly certain I was right where I wanted to be mentally. Oh but how doctors love hard facts….

Buckle up buttercup this is going to be one hell of a ride!

That’s all that kept running through my head..

Sitting in a room specially designed for such occasions I actually began to feel a bit nervous. I have been here before and I never really like these meetings. It is probably the basis for my need to overload on information, know everything that is happening so as to never be caught off guard. The room was filled with Jacy’s dad, step-mom and myself seated across a table from the doc, his assistant and a social worker. Jacy’s primary nurse joined us a few moment later quietly standing over my right shoulder. For the next 20-25 minutes this room reverberated with every question a father could think of in regards to his daughters care. In return every explanation the doctor felt needed to be tossed onto the table and a few that were beyond what I expected were pitched as well. Once the percentages began flying around my nerves just went numb! 20% here, 70% there, combined with scary words like mortality, fragile state, and the ever popular response of “we just don’t know”. There were also positive words such as, fighter, strong, stubborn and holding her own. Many detailed analysis I already understood; some analysis I was vaguely aware of and had appropriately deduced an outcome, while every now and again something would be said that just blindsided me. But I suppose that was to be expected for no matter how much you prepare you cannot possibly know everything. As we concluded it felt as though we all walked away understanding a little more about the who, what, where and the why of it all. I also walked away with the utmost respect for her doctor and every ounce of care she was receiving.

Now I have long said that statistics are to a mathematician what a lamp-post is to a drunk; just something to lean on.

But driving home after weeks of feeling super positive (well except for our girls little outburst last Friday that sent me into a tailspin) and feeling as though my understanding of everything was solid; driving home I felt, well, I felt heartbroken. A feeling I had no inclination of participating in, yet there it was, like my chest was going to break open! Just plain old heart-broken. Part of me wishes I had never gone to that meeting, part of me wishes I didn’t understand all that I do, part of me wishes I was just a stupid, sheep of a husband, one who nods his head yes and no whenever questions are asked. All of me wishes I could tap in for my wife, trade places with her, send her home. I have known this was going to be a long rough road, I have known that from the start. It just got longer and rougher. I have always known my wife was a fighter, she is the toughest woman I know, but she is going to have to get tougher. We are no longer talking in weeks, we are talking in months. She misses her home, her life, her ranch, her children, heck even her husband! I miss her terribly at home and all of this is breaking my heart.

The good news is these doctors know she is a fighter, everyone loves her, and the nurses all look forward to working with her. Jacy’s spirits are soaring and she knows deep inside her soul she is going to win! GVHD is no joke it is life threatening, but her toughness, her tenacity to continually do the opposite of what is expected through statistics, that will power is what keeps her going strong.

To date; Jacy cannot see due to deteriorating optical nerves in conjunction with sloughing of inner eyelid tissue, so today they tried several experimental procedures hoping to alleviate some of her visual discomfort including placing an amniotic sac over the open eyeball. Do you think that stopped her from getting out of bed and walking with me this evening? Hell no! Her eyes burn, her skin burns, she has broken blisters and peeling over her entire body! You think she whimpered once about how uncomfortable it was or used it as an excuse to get out of physical therapy? Hell no! Her stomach is upset, she cannot eat solid food because the GVHD has extended to her intestines leaving her only induced nutrition arriving through an IV. Do you think that has kept her from downing chicken soup whenever possible? Hell no! Jacy’s all over body pain is so intense she is attached to a pump delivering morphine every 15 minutes just to get through the day. Do you think that stopped her from greeting every nurse, janitor, doctor or visitor with a beaming smile, telling them what a good job they are doing, or talking about television shows, laughing together like old friends? Hell no! She can barely talk at times due to severe dry mouth and lesions inside her throat. Do think that has stopped her from happily conversing with each and every person who crosses her path? Ok I know you know the answer to this by now!

Her enduring strength, positive attitude and indelible spirit are what’s keeping this mother of four, teacher, daughter and friend going strong. I also believe some faith is in there as well. Please keep her in your heart, she believes in all of you and says she can feel the power of prayer working every day.

We have a hill to climb, it is going to be long, sometimes really hard, bumpy and frustrating, but when you feel those helping hands of spirit and faith pushing you from behind you can’t help but make that final push over the top. Then buckled up, straps down tight we can finally let go of the bar, place our hand up high and enjoy the ride together.

stay positiive

Feel the warmth

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Today the sun shone upon her face as I witnessed how its warmth made her feel. We take for granted our daily lives and how simple everyday processes are there, waiting for us, unobtrusive. Like knowing your right leg will follow your left, or when you itch, a dominant hand will scratch without so much as a second thought. So goes our lives, the sun will rise, the sun will set, followed by the moon. Yet we never think about what if we no longer knew the sun was there?

Every day for millions that fire in the sky is too damn hot! Every day for millions it shines over and through clouds leaving them to damn cold. We take it all for granted. One thing I have noticed since this journey began is how much I miss living near the coast. The valley is a wonderful place, but driving back and forth to Palo-Alto I can see the majesty that is fog rolling in over the foothills, that cool breeze proceed its arrival letting you know the fog is almost there, never having to hear the steady drone of an air conditioning unit running for 24 hours on occasion. I grew up in a charming little town, filled with dairy’s and cattle ranches several miles inland from a tip of the bay. Sonoma was an awesome place to grow up. Every night you could watch the fog roll in over the valley walls, rolling out in the morning to leave a cool, crisp moistness for all to enjoy. As humans we complained it was too cold, or too hot during the day and man just once I wish that fog would wait until later to roll in making everything wet!

I have been away too long, I am not sure if it’s my age, the fact I recognize we complain way to much or seeing life through my wife’s eyes as of late has changed my perspective? But I appreciate everything this earth has to offer us as human beings.

So I rambled, where was I? Oh yes, What if?

Watching my wife slowly step ever so carefully down a long and busy hallway, eyes fixated on a double set of doors roughly 50 yards away. The light shining through those doors indicating they are in fact a righteous pathway towards freedom. My focus is solely on making it there without her feeling so tired she can longer fathom making an extra step, thusly cutting our journey short. Ensuring her pathway is clear as we traverse this major artery of the complex. My worries are there, but I am trying my best to not let them show. She has only completed a few loops around the quad over the last week or so; her small world of circular entrapment. Today’s journey for her has become the equivalent of walking into the next town.

Double gowned, IV stand in tow running on battery power, a hat to protect her new skin from the dreaded UV rays and of course sporting the ever so stylish Darth Vader mask, keeping any air she breaths clean of all harmful organisms. We crawl, people staring, some smiling, others with a “good job” look upon their faces and of course the trip wouldn’t be complete without those who just don’t know what to do when they see her walking towards them. To look away, make eye contact and freeze, stare mortified or the just plain look of pity. Oh well it really isn’t their fault so what can you do?

We make it to the door and as I open it, the sweetest, most perfectly timed light, warm breeze hits our faces. For me it feels great! But for her, well this is where I was going with all this rambling from the beginning, it is heaven. This woman who hasn’t felt a breeze, natural warm air, cold air, fog, or glaring heat for 44 days is slightly blinded by the brightness and in one deep breath, relaxed and happy.

I witnessed how the warmth made her feel! We didn’t make it to Stanford’s glorious, well-manicured fountain area another 25 yards away, but we did find a nice bench, under a tree and there we sat, beneath a beautiful mixture of sun, clouds with a hint of fog just off the horizon. We listened to the fountain, and all the wonderful ambient background noise. Light and movement were a neural overload for my wife but she enjoyed every minute! We talked as if we were on a date; that is if the date was near a hospital and my date was heavily sedated. (No rufie jokes please) She sat with her eyes closed for a bit, feeling the suns warmth, the light breeze, free from the beeping machines in her room, while quietly wondering when she was going home.fountain

We had a wheel chair available for the trip back, but she refused, her stubborn Cuban side firing back up! So after twenty minutes or so, Jacy said it was time and we slowly, carefully made our way back down that long busy hallway, into the BMT unit and back to her little room with a window.

Once inside the BMT unit it was heartwarming as almost every nurse cheered her onward, congratulating her for making the journey, inspiring her to be stronger, to become healthier in her recovery. I cannot say enough about these special people who work inside this wing of the hospital. We all know and I have said it before; my wife could make friends with the hardest of people. Yet everywhere we went, even in the hallway outside the BMT wing, nurses or Stanford employees were coming by to wish her well. They all know my wife by name, they all have a smile on their face and they show just how much they care. It is inspirational.

Tomorrow is a new day, no matter what has happened today, good, bad, or in-between remember this, there is always someone out there doing a little worse than you. Be their inspiration.

The sun still shines on your face, you still have the freedom to be where you want to be and when you want to be there, you have the ability to make the very most out of your day, every day.

So please take a moment and be thankful you can still feel the warmth.

hobbes

Alone..

Driving into Palo Alto towards Stanford yesterday was the first real moment of solitude I have felt so far. Things have been happening so fast there hasn’t been a minute for me to really contemplate being alone. Unless I am fishing or working on the ranch I dont particularly care to be alone, it doesn’t suit me well at all. My life is better when others are around who can laugh and joke about anything and everything. But here I was, alone, looking over at the passenger seat feeling its emptiness while maneuvering through traffic.

Then I thought about how alone my wife feels in all of this. Not in the sense of anyone coming to visit her or sit by her side, but as in alone?  You know, on the inside? As though this thing called Leukemia is somehow her sole cross to bear. We come and go, kiss her forehead, hold her hand, we say all the right things like; honey we are here for you, Jacy we love you, you can beat this awful disease, you are so strong, if anyone can kick cancers ass it’s you! But at the end of the day, when darkness comes and there is nothing but nurses poking, prodding, scanning and taking vitals signs while administering more medication, there is only her, alone, with this disease…

Yesterday was a difficult day for her, vomiting, restless, hurting, hard to swallow, mouth developing sores and constantly needing to pee! She could not get out of bed without an alarm sounding, sleep more than 15 minutes without someone needing to speak with her to reaffirm her name or roll over without being tangled in a spaghetti like mass of I.V. lines!

Her nurse yesterday was amazing! Sweet and kind you can tell she loves her job and the patients in her care.  She was always Johnny on the spot and I wasnt able to do anything for my wife as to do so may have been an insult to this wonderful persons tenacity; regardless though it was a revolving door of activity within the confines of her two person barley 250 square foot room and I dont know how any of them (patients included) handle it all.

I sat with Jacy for 6 hours and was only able to speak with her for a total of about 30 minutes as she would drop in and out of interrupted slumber.  She spoke about her worries in regards to her room-mate for which she has become attached.  She talked a little about hallucinations and talking to her room-mate in her sleep for which she only remembered portions. At one point she went to shower and needed three nurses to assist her back into bed as all of her medications hit her at once causing her to become dizzy and unable to stay upright.

Six hours went by like five minutes, I did nothing, I said very little, I held her hand and stroked her back. I read stories on my phone, looked up the history of Stanford hospital and reoriented myself with the entire facility. At one point during the day it became necessary for me to step outside and stretch my legs; my legs having a mind of their own took me right around the corner into the chapel. Sitting, reflecting, pondering and praying; praying for guidance and praying for Jacy to retain her inner strength.  Staying strong for our family has been challenging and I am sure Jacy feels those same pressures in regards to her children.  Its nothing we havent handled as a team before or wont handle in the future. Having the ability to walk in and find sanctity allowed a moment to breathe a little easier.

Walking back from the chapel my heart-felt lighter, my spirits raised a tad.  It never ceases to amaze me what a little quiet somber prayer time can do for one’s mind and soul.  When I returned she actually stayed awake enough to chat with me for a bit, kiss me a few times, then quietly drift back asleep.  It was all my emotions needed to quell any fears, it was all my heart needed to recharge for the next day. It was all my body needed to lift up my shoulders and carry on a little longer.  A kiss and smile from the one you love is a powerful thing.

If you know my wife, then you know the power of her smile. If you have spoken with my wife then you know she can make a friend out of the most hardened of personalities, and if you have ever been in a room with my wife it is instantly apparent where the light is emanating from.

Even though she has a wonderful room-mate whom she is very thankful for, it is killing me to think of her ever being or feeling alone..

UPDATE: Today she is just as sick, and with only one more dose of the dreaded Cytarabine to go, she will only get worse before getting a little chemotherapy break over the weekend. I dont know how she does it, I am pretty sure I would have screamed uncle! Then quit.

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Promises

I don’t care who you are or how strong your resilience, when closing a door behind you to a hospital room within a Cancer/Leukemia ward holding the most precious of beings in your life! You cannot help but feel as though things are now permanently out of your control.

And you would be correct, for they are…

Three days ago Jacy and I got into our car. We had a relatively uneventful trip into the bay area, over two bridges, through San Francisco into beautiful Woodside ending on the famous Stanford campus. 19 months, 6 of those in treatment then remission and relapse all leading up to this moment. I cannot describe adequately to what end my brain continues to function. This moment, this very moment, where all I cherish is left in the skilled hands of others. Like knowing your final day on this planet, or being 18 and not quite comprehending that yes you too will one day be 50 then blinking only to recognize that day is tomorrow. It is more than I can handle.

13 years ago I promised to always take care of her, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse; to never leave her side no matter what. I am many things in this life, a jokester, a story-teller, a father, a coach, a teacher, sometimes even an asshole, but when I make a promise I do my very best to keep it! The ability to do so comes from having made hundreds of mistakes, letting numerous people down, lessons learned and realizing who and what you have become after living through personal tragedy and the suffering of others.

I promised her and I have always done my best. When we were trying to have children and nothing was working, I stood strong and promised her it would be alright, we laughed, we cried but I knew God would always provide for those with faith. We now have Parker and Jessica

I promised her that even though we would have no money for a long time we would make it after purchasing our ranch, because we knew it was where we wanted our children to grow up. We moved in with $250.00 dollars in the bank, we understood the payoff would never be monetary but would come from rewards reaped over time by our children. We are making it, it is a struggle at times but our children are amazing human beings, growing and thriving thanks to this place we etched out of the land; and they will forever know where home and family are to be found.

I promised her when we went to Haiti together I would let nothing happen to her or our group as we traversed a country still struggling with political power, corruption and strife. I did my best while on the island serving these beautiful people as local politics toyed with our mission. My promise was put to the test when our sail boat home tipped over in heavy wind and wave. Trying my hardest to hold as many as I could while remaining calm so others would be calm as well all while praying quietly, gripping those I love tightly and doing the best I could not to show my own personal fear I kept that promise.

I have promised her time and again. I have done my very best, but as I write this I am scared. Not something that is easy to admit. For I have promised her this will all work out, she is strong and it will be ok. But I am scared as hell. I am not sure how strong I can be this time. I am afraid of my own promises, that maybe they will be unattainable. My prayers feel unanswered, no calm has overcome my soul as in times past. I am tired of being tested by life, love and loss. I am growing weary and yet this is just the beginning. I feel as though my inner Betty needs a 5 month energy drink as opposed to 5 hour.

Closing this door to her room and walking away, leaving the one I love to modern science and medicine in hopes it will save her life is more than I feel I can handle. I pray she doesn’t suffer as others are currently suffering in the very wing she is assigned. I pray that God sees this woman for all she has accomplished in her life, knowing she has more to do here with people who need her smile, warmth and charm. I pray she heals with little side effects, becoming stronger day by day until she is the woman she chooses to become post-transplant.

I am praying all the time….

Jacy is currently on her 9th dose of chemotherapy in three days. She only has 11 more doses to go. Her spirits are up even though she hasn’t slept. As she puts it, I run to the bathroom, nap then an hour later run to the bathroom again. Her spirit is high, she is still feeling very positive, and I have no doubt she will show me the way as she has always done in the past through her amazing spirit. She is my wife, she is my best friend, and she is my life.

I promise……….

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Thanks Leukemia for reminding me you are still here.

Three weeks since my last posting, holy shit where did the time go? Apparently Leukemia needed to remind us it is still here?

Seriously what a busy three weeks it has been too! Children out of school, working to prepare the ranch and Jake for a week-long stint in Bishop California for the CHSRA High school rodeo finals, setting Cody up for success in caring for his mother and siblings while we were away, fixing then re-fixing, then repairing only to abandon my truck because she just couldn’t make the trip to bishop hauling our living quarters horse trailer. Borrowing a friends truck (thank goodness for good friends) to make the trip safely, then watching as Jake finished 11th in the state steer wrestling and 17th in the state cutting.  He was the only rookie to make it into the finals for steer wrestling! Something he is and should be very proud of as the finals were filled with some of the most talented kids I have ever seen!

This all leads us to today.

This morning I awoke pondering yesterday and tomorrow. Yesterday we (Jacy and I) spent the whole day at Stanford signing paperwork (you know the dont sue us if something catastrophic happens legal mumbo jumbo), meeting with doctors, understanding the upcoming schedule; more lab work, heart monitoring, and ultimately the dreaded sit down talk where we learn from -0 day-to-day +1 what will be happening to her body and what might possibly happen to her body in the form of acceptance or rejection.

The first week will be 16 doses of chemotherapy so strong it could quite possibly kill her, of course only in a low percentage of patients, but it does do damage to the heart muscle, kidneys and liver. She will be very sick during this time and I will not go into the specifics as it crosses over ones privacy.  Once she is down to zero or no immune system what so ever, she will receive the Bone Marrow transplant, which consists of nothing more than stem cells transmitted through a blood transfusion.  She will be given drugs to suppress the new immune system which have a whole slew of nasty side effects of their own. The new immune system will need to find its way through her body on its own without overreacting to its new home. This will be over the course of the next few weeks and where odds are strong some form of graph vs host disease will take place.

Graph vs host can lead to anything from minor sores in the mouth to minor or major skin irritation to life threatening rejection to which we are told things “could” get quite dicey if that takes place. Phew! Nothing to be scared of yet, right?

If all goes well, the body accepts the graph with the help a few drugs then within three weeks she can leave to outpatient treatment where her caregiver (me, parents and siblings) will monitor everything she eats, her temps, appetite and overall demeanor.  Once she hits the 12 week mark with steady improvement she has the ability to come home.  Yay!

Once at home (get ready for this) Jacy, who lives on a ranch and loves her horse more than most people like their friends; will not be allowed near the horses for up too two years! She also has to wait a minimum of a year just to go back to work and be surrounded by the young minds she loves so!! Listen I can hear you all now: hey at least she will be alive right? Yes this is true. But look at it this way, everything short of your children that you love has been taken away then held right out of reach for you to see everyday.  That would be pretty painful and hard to handle while keeping a positive attitude about survival. You are alive and it does leave something to fight or look forward too, but can be depressing at the same time.

Tomorrow

So tomorrow is that day. WE load up the toters she has packed her life into over the weekend; she kisses her children goodbye (the hardest things she has ever had to do) and we make what I assume will be a very somber, quiet, fear/tear filled trip to her new home for the next three to four months. I will then have a very hard ride home as now I will truly be a single dad with only being able to visit a couple of times a week per her wishes. (her wish is to keep the kids having a normal life and summer before school) Once school starts I will be there everyday if possible, running back and forth to be by her side. She knows what lays in store, she knows there will be days of doubt, pain, sickness and struggle, she knows that the outcome is unknown as to severity of reaction and she knows it is going to be hard, very hard.

She also knows she has a whole crew of people praying, she knows she has the unconditional love of an entire family, and she knows I love her more than anything in the world. In her heart she knows she will beat this and win.

This morning I stared at her sleeping knowing it will be one of the last mornings for a very long time I will see her angelic face next to mine. I fu%#ing hate this shit!

Deep breath, stand strong, we will survive this and she will kick cancers ass one more time!

keep calm

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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