Free Parking

   I ought to get free parking at the hospital.  The exit gate should have an “out of pocket maximum” and when you reach it, you don’t have to pay $2 any more to get out of the parking deck.  If they did, I’m sure by now I’d have free parking. 

   Last Sunday we were going to have family pictures made.  The thing I hate about family pictures is that it stresses me out to figure out the whole clothing thing.  Do we all four wear the same color or do we coordinate?  How far ahead of the photo shoot do I get my haircut and colored?  Glasses or no glasses.  Boots or heels?  Oh my goodness, no wonder you can’t find any family pictures of us in this house!  Well, we do have the family picture from last year, which is very special to me.  It was taken a couple weeks after Mike’s stem cell transplant.  He had lost all his hair from the chemo so in support of him, we all four wore do-rags for our pictures.  It was fun and I will always cherish those pictures.  That is part of the reason I wanted pictures again this year, just to have a visual of what a difference a year can make.  So, back to the photo shoot.  We were having our pictures done at 4:30 and our small group would be over at 6:00 for Bible study.  It was about 4:00 and we were almost all ready to go.  I was helping Abbie finish her makeup and then we’d be ready, coordinating outfits and all!  As Abbie and I were playing in my makeup Mike came in the bathroom and said that his back was hurting.  Within minutes he came back in and told me he thought he had a kidney stone and I was going to have to take him to the ER.  He has had kidney stones before so he knew the symptoms; he just had not had one since cancer.  Like any good wife I dropped everything I was doing and rushed to take care of my guy.  Ok, actually I looked at my watch and wondered if we could just run by quickly and get our pictures made and then go to the emergency room.   Hey, don’t judge, I had spent a lot of time on the whole outfit thing.  Plus I had showered again and re-done my make up and hair!  I could tell by Mike’s level of pain the picture thing was not going to happen so I put down the make up brushes and off we went to the ER. 

   We got to the hospital (a very familiar site for me) and fortunately the ER was not crowded yet.  They got Mike back to a room fairly quick and got him some pain meds.  Well it seemed quick to me, he would probably tell you differently.  If you followed my journal on caring bridge back during Mike’s cancer days you will remember me talking about my prayer posse or my prayer ninja’s that I later named them.  Well I had texted my ninjas when I was in the waiting room and told them what was going on and of course, those women were johnny on the spot with the prayers.  I just love those women!  What a blessing to have a small group of friends that will pray the minute they get the word that something is going on!  Meanwhile back at the ranch, I mean ER, they were wheeling Mike off to have some X-rays and a CT Scan to verify that it was indeed a kidney stone.  After many games of Sudoku and Words with Friends, Mike joined me back in the room and in no pain at all (thanks to the wonders of modern medicine).  What seemed like hours later, the doctor came in and said that Mike did have a kidney stone but in addition to the stone they found an aneurysm on his splenic artery.  WHAT???  I’m sorry doc but we just came here for kidney stones.  He was very honest with us and said he didn’t know anything about the aneurysm so before he could release Mike he wanted to talk to a surgeon.  When the doctor left, Mike and I just looked at each other.  Not really surprised.  Not really scared.  I think it was just more a look of, “well of course they found an aneurysm.”  Almost everyday I am amazed at what God has taught us in the last year and a half.  Two years ago, the word aneurysm would have FREAKED me out!  Two years ago I assure you I would not have been looking at Mike and the doctor going, “ok.”  But today is different than two years ago (thank you Jesus!).  Today not much surprises me.  Today I am confident that God is most definitely in control.  Today I find peace in my prayers and those of my prayer ninja’s.  Today is all I really have, and it is enough.  So back to Mike.  The surgeon says that the aneurysm has begun to calcify so he feels confident in releasing Mike to go home but wants him to follow up the next day at his office.  We go home.  Did I mention that we were the best-dressed couple in the ER that night with our coordinating outfits, my hair all fixed and make up freshly applied? We looked good.  Maybe I should have had Melanie come there to take our family pictures!

   So last Monday Mike followed up with two of his surgeon buddies.  They both agreed that based on the size of the aneurysm, where it was located and the fact that it had started to calcify, there was not a risk of it rupturing.  They said the biggest factor in it not rupturing is the fact that Mike will not become pregnant (apparently a concern among women with the same diagnosis).  Whew, one less concern.  They will recheck him in a few months to see how things look.  So these are the things God taught me (or reminded me) last Sunday night:

      1.     Faith is continual.  Faith just during the easy times is “selective faith”, which is really not faith at all.

      2.    A group of praying friends is a blessing beyond what words can describe.  I hope I’m that kind of blessing to others.

      3.    God is funny.  And He is good.  I’m glad I know Him.

      4.    There is no place for worry AND faith in my life.  It’s one or the other.  I choose faith.

      5.    Once again, mother was right.  Always have on clean underwear with no holes in it         because you never know when you might end up in the hospital.  Actually, I’m not really    sure about that one since no one saw my underwear but it might not be a bad thing to live    by. 

            So one day maybe I will get free parking at the hospital, but I hope it is not because I spend so much time there.  Maybe they will award Mike and me free parking because we wear coordinating outfits to the emergency room.  And clean, non-holey underwear.  

Happy 1st Birthday

November 2011- 3 weeks after transplant

   It’s Mike’s one year birthday.  One year ago today he had his stem cell transplant and life began anew for him (and I guess me and the kids too).  Out with the old, in with the new.  Clean blood, clean stem cells and life begins – again.  Fresh.   In some ways, it seems like a lifetime ago.  I went back to our caring bridge site and read some of the journal entries from this time last year.  Wow.  Was that really us?   I can’t help but get choked up as I read some of the entries.  Between all those lines and all those words was a family holding on.  Living life, day by day, in the moment, and trying to make some sense out of it.  Well, that’s probably not exactly true.  I don’t think we ever tried to make sense of what we were going through. It just was what it was.  It was cancer.  It was hospitals and drugs and lots of doctors visits.  It was tears and long tiring days and uncertainty.  But even with all that, it was more.  It was days filled with unbelievable hope and faith I’ve never known before.  It was a chance to see other people in a whole new light.  People who loved on us with all their might.  People who poured into my kids when Mike and I didn’t have the energy to do so.  Family, friends, a school and a church, who filled in the gap.  More than what I saw in others was what I saw in God.  That intimate communion with Him.  A feeling that your soul is open wide, like a big gaping, raw wound – and then, then HE pours into the wound His grace, His peace and this most amazing love and it’s as if you can literally FEEL Him, even see Him.  That’s what it was.  It wasn’t about cancer.  It was all about knowing Him to the depth of my soul.  Cancer = bad.  Walking through it with God = priceless.

May 2012 - Garden of Hope

April 2012

   So here we are one year later, one year older, one year wiser (at least I hope so!).  They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.  I’ve never figured out who “they” are but I believe “they” are probably correct about this.  Mike, Abbie, Michael and I are stronger than we were before the big “C”.  We don’t pretend to have figured everything out but we do know that life is what we make it.  We can use our trials for good, hopefully helping others through theirs or we can wallow in them and feel sorry for ourselves.  It’s a choice.  Because of the type cancer Mike has, we are fully aware that one day we may be walking this road again, but no matter, God is in control.  It may take us by surprise but it won’t Him.  So we keep on, fighting the good fight and choosing to be a witness to what we believe in --- A good, loving, caring God, who will see us through whatever comes our way.  So for now, a big Happy One Year Old birthday wish to my healthy, happy husband – a true warrior.

Empty Calories

     A few nights ago I was in bed thinking to myself how I should probably get serious about getting these last “5” pounds off (yeah, lets just round down and go with 5).  See, my favorite time to think about a new weight loss plan is when my belly is full and I’m about to go to sleep.  It just seems so doable at that moment.  Anyway, I came to the realization that the best way to get the weight off might be to give up all those empty calories I manage to consume through out the day.  You know the ones, a piece of candy here, a handful of chips there, throw in the occasional glass of wine, you get the picture.  As I was thinking about all those empty calories I started thinking about the memories that are attached to so many of them.  When the kids were younger they would ask to go to Krispy Kreme when they got their report card.  KK gave free donuts for A’s on your report card.  So there we would be, bellied up right under the “Hot Now” sign, loving every gooey, greasy, sweet bite of that donut.  Empty calories.  I thought about all the Girls Night Outs over the years.  Wine and appetizers shared with the BFF’s but mostly, lots and lots of laughs shared. LOTS of laughs.  Empty calories.  Then there was the swankiest dinner I had ever been to.  Several years ago Mike won an award and his company sent us on our first trip to New York City.  The dinner was on top of the World Trade Center at a restaurant called Windows on the World.  There were waiters in tuxedos with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres and then a fancy smancy meal to follow.  Lots of empty calories that night!  A few years later we took the kids to NYC and every time we rounded a corner and Michael saw another hot dog vendor, his eyes would get so big (yeah, we don’t have hot dog vendors in Huntsville Alabama) and he’d look up at us and plead for “just one more”.  Empty calories.  And then there was the week I spent in Italy at a cooking school. By the last night I had to go to dinner with my shirt untucked so no one would see that my pants wouldn’t button!  WOW, talk about your empty calories!  But you know, I wouldn’t give back any of those empty calories for any amount of skinny.

     I was also thinking last night about a scene in the movie, "Letters to Juliet".  Charlie, Gran and Sophie are in the car looking for Gran’s Lorenzo.  Charlie makes a comment something like, “Gran wouldn’t it be great if HE were your Lorenzo?  He becomes rich and then you meet up with him after all these years.  All that, and you get to skip the messy bits.”  To which Gran (Vanessa Redgrave – love her!) replies, “Charlie, life IS the messy bits.”  Life -- messy bits and empty calories. 

     I think back to my “messy bits” of life.  It’s those messy bits that have made me who I am today (like it or not my friends).  God in his infinite power and wisdom is taking my messy bits and stretching me, growing me and using them for something better than messiness.  My empty calories are entangled with memories I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world!  I suppose you can still make memories by eating carrots and hummus, but really why would you eat hummus with carrots when you could have warm, grilled pita bread?  Or Naan bread?  Or warm pita and homemade pimento and cheese or…...oh sorry, I got sided tracked thinking about all that food  those memories.  So I think for me, I’m going to continue to search the messy bits for reasons to be thankful.  And I guess I will keep my empty calories a little while longer.  Stretching, growing, making memories.  It’s worth the “5”  extra pounds.  :)

Speaking of empty calories….. here, go make some memories.

                                   Pimento Cheese with Spicy Crackers

                                    (Recipe from Karen Burke)

8 ounces cream cheese, softened

4 ounces sour cream

garlic salt (to taste)

6—8 ounces grated cheddar cheese (I like sharp)

4 ounces diced pimentos, drained

1 box lowfat saltine crackers (lowfat,haha)

1 cup vegetable oil

1 package ranch dressing powder

1-2 tablespoons red pepper flakes

Mix cream cheese, sour cream, garlic salt, cheddar cheese and pimentos together using a mixer.  Cover and refrigerate.  Layer crackers in a 9x13 glass baking dish with a lid.  Whisk together remaining ingredients and pour over crackers, whisking as you pour.  Cover and shake. Let sit for 5 minutes.  Turn over, shake and allow to sit.  Repeat a few times.  Remove crackers and place in a large Ziploc bag.  Leave for at least 8 hours before serving.

My Tribute To Her

Two years ago we only knew each other by name.  God had a plan to change that.  April 2011 it changed.  Mike was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a cancer similar to leukemia.  Less than two weeks later, she was diagnosed with leukemia.  We shared the same church, the same Sunday school class, the same friends.  We started the journey together.  Many days we would end up at CCI on the same day, sit in the lobby and laugh about life.  We joked about carpooling to Vanderbilt since we had the same doctors there, and how our friends would only have to make one trip to visit both her and Mike.  We talked about the island we would visit when they were both healed.  And every day, that same Sunday school class sent prayers for both her and Mike.  Those shared friends, the shared church, the shared body of Christ.  Jesus with hands and feet.  That’s what they were and are, to both our families. 

In early fall she went into remission and Mike headed for his toughest part.  October 28th Mike had his stem cell transplant.  She and her husband prayed for us, checked in on us, never gave up on us.  They walked this leg of our journey with us.  As Mike slowly made the turn to getting better after his transplant, she came out of remission. She began more chemo and headed toward her own transplant.  All the while, Mike getting better, her getting worse.   We prayed for them, checked in on them, never gave up on them.  Then came remission for Mike.  We celebrated.  After her transplant and long stay at Vanderbilt, she headed toward remission.  We celebrated.  But remission didn’t last for her.  Still, we all knew God had a plan.  We knew we would walk this leg of the journey together too.  As it turns out, God’s plan was not to heal her here on earth.  God took her home and healed her there.    

I don’t pretend to know God’s plan.  I just know he has one.  I don’t pretend to understand, but I still believe.  I believe He is only good.  I believe in what I can’t see.  She did too.  That’s what faith is and that’s what she had.  In the end, anytime you asked her what you could do for her, she would say, “Pray for a miracle. ”  Some will say she didn’t get her miracle because she didn’t get complete healing.  I disagree.  She is healed now, not on earth but in a better place.  Not only that, I believe we haven’t even begun to see the miracles from God on her behalf.  A miracle is not only an event that can’t be explained by human powers.  It’s not only healing when all medicine has failed to work. A miracle is also defined as a wonder; a marvel.  I believe her miracle is coming, bigger than anyone of us could have envisioned.  I believe we will see it in what her daughter does while on this earth, the lives that young girl will touch because of what she went through with her mom and the legacy that her mom left her.  I believe we will see it in her husband and how one day he will be able to minister to others when no one else can, because he understands their pain.  I believe one day we will see heaven more populated because of the faith of the three of them.

I don’t believe in coincidence.  I don’t believe in chance.  I believe in a God who is only good, who can only love and who has a plan for us.  He had a plan for our family to walk together with theirs that started a year and a half ago. We may not get to go on our island vacation together, but what a glorious vacation we will have when we meet again one day.   I don’t know what the rest of the plan looks like or where it will lead, but I am blessed because He chose for our families to journey it together.  Without a doubt, I believe that Michelle’s miracle is about to begin.

And because I don’t want to leave you on a sad note- I will share some chocolate with you.  When she was in the hospital I would make this candy and take it to her.  She always asked about it.   She was a tiny little thing with very little appetite so I don’t fool myself into believing that she ate all that chocolate candy!  But she was just gracious enough to make me think she loved it that much.  I suspect some doctors and nurses gained a few pounds from her dolling out my chocolate candy.  But nonetheless, I want to share the recipe with you. When you make it I hope you think of her and her great big smile.  I hope it makes you happy because it made me happy making it for her.

Crockpot Candy

2 jars salted dry roasted peanuts

1 (11.5 oz) semi sweet chocolate chips

1 (4 oz) package German chocolate bar, broken into pieces

2 lbs. Almond Bark chocolate (broken into pieces)

Pour peanuts in bottom of crockpot.  Place all chocolate on top of peanuts.  DO NOT STIR.  Cook on low for 2 hours.  After 2 hours stir until mixed.  Use spoon and drop onto waxed paper.  (You can freeze these for months.)