Day 50: July 26, 2019

Day 50. WOW. We made it to day 50. 50 is symbolic for some reason. It's half of 100. 100 being a LOT. It's the end of what we believe is the last big 5 day block of chemo treatment. It's a major milestone. Day 12 popped up last night for some reason, and I was reading through that. All I can say is: what a journey it has been. What. a. freaking. journey.


We are not done yet, and there is a lot of hard work to be done. In a lot of ways, getting to the "end" is really just getting to the beginning. A sort of rebirth I guess. Another chance at life. The post cancer life. There are people that have said to us, well what if this doesn't work? What if he has to keep having treatments? What if, what if, what if. There are ALWAYS what ifs. We have to have faith to believe that this is it. We trust the doctors, we trust the process, we trust that his body is healing. We have to. Quite simply, there is no other option.


Faith is such a funny thing. A lot of people have a lot of it. Faith in their religion, their god, their hopes, dreams, life, etc. But when you think about it, it's kind of a hard concept to grasp. I was trying to explain it to the kids- it's truly just a BELIEF, an intangible. An unquestionable conviction in something, even if you can't see it or feel it. In this case, a gut KNOWING that we are going to make this and kick cancer's ass in the process.


We know the next two weeks are going to be grueling. We have three rounds of chemo built up in him at this point, and chemo by definition means putting toxic chemicals in to your body- obviously for the purpose of healing. That said, as we all know (but probably most of us can't even imagine), it feels like absolute ass and the cumulative effects continue to build as we wrap up the process of treatment. However, despite how brutal we know these next few weeks might be, there is one thing that is getting us through. The HOPE that is two weeks. TWO WEEKS. We've come 50 days to be looking at, technically, only 14 more of chemo treatments. How freaking amazing is THAT?!


Day 50 started bright and early at 6am again for chemo treatments at SCCA. Unlike day 49, but like days 1-3 of this cycle, the IV attempts were many. After several tries they finally brought in a professional. Again, FAIL for not already having something in his file to say, maybe start with a professional versus poking him and failing 4 times first? But what do I know...

Luckily, soon after, he was out. Colleen was the only one who made it over today as I was tied up with work, and Justin had the kids.

The hours can get long during these long days, so she had some fun with snap chat- hilarious!

She also had a surprise visit from her friend/roommate, Jan!

Meanwhile, I was reminded that traffic does still, in fact, suck on 405! Especially at 2pm on a Friday.

I was by the pot shop and made my 2nd stop in there- I think this qualifies me as no longer being a pot shop virgin? Maybe? I handled it like an old pro....or something. Ha. Except that I forgot that Oliver wanted capsules and not edibles. Duh. But, we'll give these a shot and see how he likes them.

I got home to Justin doing this.... uhhh…. are you going camping? Ha. Nope, just moving the trailer around because why not add a tree cutter to down 8 evergreens tomorrow to our chaos? Sounds like fun! I mean, we already have no less than 20 projects started right now, let's add more! Yippee. In fairness, he has about a million blocks to finish a wall and has to get the trees down to continue it... the timing is just funny.

Colleen and Oliver got home around 6pm. Oliver seemed to be feeling slightly better than the night before. I think it helps him mentally to know he's done with the big chunk. Mr. B building with OG in the background.

Meanwhile, pops and Owen outside playing cards.

Reading time before bed. The kids spent the latter half of the afternoon playing with neighbor friends again (no pics), and so they were wiped. After basically dual meltdowns, they were in bed early.

And with that, we wrap up day 50. Day 1 seems like a different lifetime ago in terms of mindset. We were scared. We had no idea what this journey was going to hold. We were terrified of the implications of cancer and chemo. We had no idea of the changes, growth, and even blessings that we would experience along the way. The one thing that hasn't changed from day 1, is that despite the change in feeling from day 1 to day 50 and all of the in between stuff, we still have faith. We had faith then, that despite being utterly terrified, it would be ok. We took a step and a deep breath on day 1 when we marched as a team in to SCCA. And then another step. And then another step. Sometimes we crawled. Sometimes we lifted each other up. Sometimes we just laid on the ground in a ball crying, waiting for the support of our team to encourage us to get back up. But, whatever we did, we KEPT MOVING. And by keeping moving, we arrived at day 50. Still with the faith and hope that not only will we make it through day 6 of round 3 (always bad in terms of how Oliver is feeling), and day 7 of round 3 (also probably bad), but we will make it to day 53. Then to day 55. Then to day 60. And eventually, we will make it to the beginning of the next journey. What is so cool about this, is that every blind step we collectively take, we grow even stronger. In our belief, in our relationships, in our health, and in our faith that we will come out of this stronger than we were before. #oliverstrong.

Day 49: July 25, 2019

Well, that was a fun temper tantrum yesterday! The emotions of this thing are wild. Some days you are just... mad. Some days you are accepting. Some days you are determined to fight. Yesterday, I was just... pissed by it all, and on no account of my own. It just sometimes seems so unfair, because mostly it is--to Oliver. Today, I am in a much better place. That's sort of how it goes on the roller coaster of this ride.  We have all gone through our varying emotions, and probably will until we settle at the end.


Today, was much better in terms of where our heads are, or at least where mine is. But again, that is the flux of emotions. Every day, you just kind of roll with it and embrace it and try to do so with some form of grace. It may not always be pretty, but I didn't start documenting this journey to portray it as anything other than what we are living every day. It is often messy, dramatic, and, clearly, there's some amount of emotion swing. Through it all, we have the constant of love. We are angry because we love Oliver. We are sad because we love Oliver. We are happy and invigorated because we love Oliver. We are a better family BECAUSE of this experience with Oliver. Above all, we are trying, and one day, one step at a time, we are making it.


Day 49. Holy cow. Almost 50 days. 5-0. That quite honestly blows my head up a little bit. It's really interesting because it seems like SO long ago we started this, but at the same time, it doesn't seem like it was quite 50 days. Kind of have to shake my head at that a little bit.


Oliver feels pretty terrible. And by pretty terrible I mean, he is god awful miserable. On the 1-10 scale, he's an 8.5-9 pretty much right now. Puke bag or bowl traveling everywhere with him. Luckily during the chemo days (day #4 of this 5 day block), he basically passes out all day. So, it's good that during these days, he can at least get some comfort and rest during the treatment.

Treatment started early again this morning. Justin and I both worked some in the morning, and then headed down around 11:30. And, then had a slight detour back as our neighbor had called to see if the boys could come play with her grandsons who are visiting....basically the boys favorite thing to do! So, turn the car around, we headed back to our hood to get the boys' swim gear, and drop them off at our neighbors. We were there from about 1-4, so the last part of the treatment.

Oliver was very entertaining, as you can tell (I kid).

Towards the end of these 5 day blocks, he is really too weak to walk. So we wheeled him out. We are hoping that on days 6-7 he is able to recover sufficiently. We are hoping so anyway, although we know from historical experience in the two prior rounds that days 6-7 can be pretty rough. I think the difference between now and round 1 is that we are sort of expecting it to be rough, and know that with the 3 of us, we can deal with anything (meaning Colleen, Justin and I taking care of him).

Meanwhile, the kids had a BLAST at Mimi's house (what they call our neighbor). She is so amazing to just offer to take our kids and run with them all over with her kids. 4 boys is a lot for anyone, although I know they do entertain each other.... but, so good for them to have some play time with friends and time away from the hospital. Especially friends who are like family, who just take our kids as their own and don't expect anything in return. We really don't have any family around who could or would do this for us... so we are so grateful for the Mimi's of this world who we have adopted as an extension of our family (and other friends around who are the same- you know who you are!)

We got home around 5pm after god awful Seattle traffic, and settled Oliver in/gave him some THC and meds, and started on dinner. Colleen also had a little fun with snapchat filters:

It was so funny, after the combo of meds kicked in, Oliver actually got a bit chatty! He was telling us all about a trip he took last fall and was talking about how on this trip that is when his ball started to hurt. I'm not sure if I ever talked about how he knew there was an issue. So let this be a message to anyone who is a man and/or has a young man (good to note: this is the most prevalent cancer in young men ages 15-25 or so). Basically what happened was in September, Oliver felt a lump on one of  his testicles. Which hurt and was painful. My understanding is that these type of things are not always felt, so perhaps like women should do breast exams, men should do self ball exams. I think most men kind of check their goods regularly anyway, but probably a good idea to ring the alarm if something feels unusual. I have a feeling that if the lump didn't hurt, the story may have changed slightly- not sure on that, but possibly.

However, it DID hurt, so Oliver visited his primary care doctor shortly after. This guy did not even CONSIDER cancer as an issue: young male, healthy- how could it be cancer? As we have learned, and possibly more people should take note of: very common in young males. The primary care doctor put him on two rounds of antibiotics thinking it was an infection. Each round at about 10-14 days. There was no change, and in fact the lump was growing and so painful it was getting tough to walk. When the primary care doctor wanted to put him on  3rd dose of antibiotics, Oliver called it and searched out a new doctor.  It was at that point that it was discovered it was in fact cancer, and needed to come out ASAP. So, he found it in September, very small growth, diagnosed in October after 2 rounds of (failed) antibiotics. Surgery was basically urgent and immediate in mid-October. By that time the lump had grown from pea size to grape sized, as it was explained to me, and was fully engulfing the testicle. When the surgeon went in, there were also growths found on the lymph nodes, which he also took out. SO: do self exams. If anything feels weird, get it checked. It sucks that Oliver was in pain with his, but honestly, if he wasn't, it could have gotten out of control very quickly, so we are grateful for that.

Oliver was able to eat last night, although everything is tasting a bit weird. But at least he was able to get a little bit down. After that, back to sleep.

Our #oliverstrong shots of the day. The second one being Mimi and her grandsons. Love it!

And with that, we sail in to round 3 day #5. Last long day of this round. We are relieved to be through this block, although some hard days might follows. But, ever onward we go. #oliverstrong.

Day 48: July 24, 2019

I hate chemo. The more I read about it, the more I hate it. The more we experience its side effects, the more I hate it. Just when I thought I couldn't hate it anymore, I do. It seems so counter-intuitive to me that THIS is what is going to heal Oliver. This was a decision we made based on the information we had at the time, and I know we made the right decision based on that information. But seeing him go through this, reading about chemo drugs, reading about their long-term side effects, and the numbers that coincide with that? I just can't reconcile it all. How the hell can THIS get to THAT? "That" being a healthy 20 some year old who carries on with his life, as in the before. I try to stay calm and find peace in this, but when you see your kid completely decimated by the drugs that are supposed to heal him, it just doesn't line up right in your brain.


In fact, it quite honestly makes me want to punch someone. And I wouldn't say I'm a violent person.


But today, I'm just mad. And I don't feel like being positive. And I don't understand how the "First, do no harm" of the medical profession applies here. Ok, first do no harm- what I understand to be the first "law" of medicine. Except for chemo. Then FIRST, DO HARM. Then the rule applies. Maybe. But after 5 years, probably you're shit out of luck. If we're looking at numbers. Maybe you'll be one of the lucky ones with no long term side effects down the road. But hey, you won't have cancer! You might just have other stuff forever. Yay? Don't tell me that the "harm" is actually good because it's eradicating cancer cells. WE ALL KNOW that is what it is supposed to do. But let's look at everything else it is doing as well.


It also makes me mad that I feel like we lost months where we maybe could have avoided this aggressive treatment of chemo. Meaning after Oliver's surgery in October, maybe some changes could have been made to lifestyle, to mental/spiritual health, to nutrition, that would have set his body up for not such aggressive growths. We kind of all naively thought (and quite truthfully, wanted to believe) that after the surgery, everything was gone and so he would be fine. And went back to life per usual. I'm not suggesting that we could have changed course- maybe? maybe not?- but perhaps we should have tried harder.


It's impossible to know. And you'll drown yourself with the what if's. But you still kind of go there, ESPECIALLY when you think about man, what if we could have avoided some extent of THIS.


I understand that this particular treatment has a success rate in testicular cancer. I know that there are often no other options. But I just can't help but try to reconcile that there HAS to be a better way of treating cancer than damn near killing a person, or at least making them feel like they are dying. Clearly, I have no hand in the cancer industry- research, treatment or otherwise. I'm just an accountant and a mom who thinks that something is just so messed up with it all, and that's saying it nicely. I don't have the answers, and I am truthfully just venting. But I have to believe somewhere deep down that there is a better way. Maybe immunotherapy is making strides. Maybe some combo of western medicine along with more non-invasive efforts of allowing the body to use the tools that it inherently has to heal itself.


This is not an uplifting post. This is not really living in the moment and focusing on hope. This is really just an overall disgust in the process of trying to heal something that is beyond your control and in that process you see someone suffering beyond belief. Someone who is a 22 year old who 100% DOES NOT deserve this. You sort of go down this path when you are completely and utterly helpless, and you just get mad. And, that's where I'm at this morning. I'll breath, I'll find the positive (there are so many!) but chemo? It sucks.


Day 48: Round 3, day 3- more than halfway through this 5 day block. The team left for Seattle early this morning to head to Seattle for another early morning treatment start. Justin and I stayed behind again to juggle the little kids and work commitments. It totally sucks as we WANT to be at treatments, but also know that Oliver is comfortable there/sleeps all day. The real work comes when he is home and utterly uncomfortable. Without anyone to watch the kids, and both of us trying to stay working, we've kind of had to come to peace with this the last couple of days (and luckily he has Colleen there with him, too!)

It took 3 tries to get his IV in yesterday again. I guess another side effect of the chemo is that it makes it harder to access the veins (which is why most people do go with a PIC line or port). He is super hydrated this week due to hydration during the treatments, so that is not the issue.

At home, B-nut actually got a shirt on today. First shirt attempt since he broke his collarbone!

Justin and the kids left for Seattle at around 11am. Here they are with Colleen watching cheerleaders. For some reason Owen has had the cheerleader song in his head on repeat. He didn't realize that cheerleaders could also be boys- so here they are getting educated. Ha!

Of course the kiddos only last so long in the room, and so left on a walk in the surrounding areas of Seattle.

At the end of the day we were able to get a picture with Casey and Oliver. Love it. We LOVE Casey, but would love to also not see her again (at least working)! Hoping that after this round we are done! As Colleen said, Oliver had to dig deep to take these pictures. He has been at about a 8.5-9 on the scale- super nauseous. Super tired.

Once home, he just crashed. He just feels like absolute crap. Wanted a bowl. Thought he would puke. We kept up on his meds, but as he described it, he said it's just a surreal feeling of feeling like everything in your body just wants to come out. Like it's just completely torn up inside.

The boys spent the evening driving RC cars. All 3 of them!

And I took a walk to try to find some peace and serenity in all of this. To know we are doing the right thing. To remember the positives: the pulling together of our family, finding new relationships, having a reason for change and a greater good, and ultimately, hopefully, healing the cancer that got us all here and coming out of it stronger and more unified. There is a purpose. I do believe that. But, the process of getting to a point of seeing that purpose through the hell of parts of the journey can sometimes be overlooked. But we keep marching on knowing that the days of hell will eventually be over, and we'll come out on the other side. #oliverstrong.