The First Day

Today was a big day... Today Kevin decided that he was ready to go back to work full-time - in the office, in Topeka. I had tried to tell him that I wanted another week of him to be at home, his co-workers and colleagues tried to tell him that he should take as much time as he needed, his doctors however told him that he could resume his lifestyle when he was ready. 

Today he was ready. 

Honestly, I think he was ready a week or two ago, he has been working remotely the last few weeks, but they wanted his immune system to have a little bit longer before he went back into the world of germs. He also said that daytime TV was boring, but let's be honest, Kevin didn't really watch daytime TV. 

I joked the last few weeks that he talked a LOT more, there would be days he would come into the room I was working in to talk to me 5 or 6 times. Previously Kevin and I would only talk once or twice throughout the day when we were both working from home. We had both grown very independent, doing our own thing, taking care of our own business and converging at the end of the day to eat dinner together and work on bedtime with the kids. A lot has changed. A lot for the good. 

So this morning Kevin told me he was leaving at 7AM and I felt like I was sending a child to school for the very time, he was told to text me when he got to work. I called him a few times, just to see how he was doing, of course he sounded like the same old Kevin. I sent a Facebook message to another one of his co workers who works in his unit, asking her to check in on him, she made sure that someone did and I had a few reports throughout the day (unbeknownst to Kevin). 

Last week, I asked Kevin to stay at home and work from home for another week (or two?), he asked me why. He asked me what about the situation was I not comfortable with. He asked me if there was something I had a concern or fear about, if he was not okay and I had not told him. I paused, because that was the problem, everything is okay, everything has returned to normal, everything about life has started to resume. While I want to be thrilled with that, I am still so taken aback that just 4.5 weeks ago he had brain surgery. Just one month ago a surgeon opened up his skull and removed something THE SIZE OF A LARGE PEACH, and just like that, just 30 days later, his life has returned to normal. There is absolutely no doubt that he is a walking miracle today. 

Kevin made it to Topeka just fine, he worked all day, and he came home. He brought the kids home after I got done with my class, and he helped me with bedtime (which is a chore in and of itself). 

At the end of May, I told the kids that this was going to be 'the best summer ever', I had plans for us to swim in our little backyard pool, jump on the trampoline, go fishing, explore the outside and help me garden. Looking back, I would not title this the "best summer ever", but it has absolutely been the most unique summer ever. It has been a summer of blessings in disguise, blessings not in disguise and miracles on Elm Slough. We have spent more quality time this summer as a family of four than we have the entire time we have had children. Kevin has been more involved, active and engaged with Kennedy and Avery.  Kevin and I have had more conversations about our life together, our children and our family than we have in a long time. 

My blog posts will end soon, this chapter of life will be over (thank God I think we are on Jumanji, Level 7) soon, we have a few more hurdles to jump (I'll make a separate post about that), this has most certainly been the summer to remember. I have written more this summer then I have in more than ten years, taking an 8-week grad school course and writing this blog. This will soon be a memory, a blip on my time hop and a small reminder on my Facebook memories. A reminder that we are never guaranteed tomorrow, that life is short and fragile and a reminder of the amazing power of God and his love and forgiveness for all of us. 

A Humbled Patient

Sarah asked me to be a guest blogger today. She wanted my perspective on everything that has happened in the past few weeks. I think I can summarize the entire situation in one word: humbling. For those of you that know me, I’m pretty self-sufficient and don’t often ask for help. From the initial detection of the problem by the Eye Doctors in Manhattan to the removal of staples I have had to rely on someone else using their God-given gifts to help me make a full recovery. That has been humbling.

While I was sitting in the hospital in the week leading up to the surgery I had a lot of time to think. I got to think about how long God watched over me when I drove to and from work each day so I didn’t have a stroke or seizure. I got to think about what happens if I lose cognitive or physical abilities after the surgery and how that would impact my ability to work and care for my family. Then I thought about what happens if the tumor was cancerous or came back again. All of this was humbling.

After the surgery I stayed in ICU for about a day. During that time I heard people cry out in pain and sad family members of loved ones in rooms next to me. I was not experiencing pain and I was told that the surgeon felt like she got all of the tumor. While I knew there was still a road to go for recovery, I felt like my problems were minor in comparison to others around me. I was humbled again by God’s love and healing of me.

Since I have come home things have gone well. Sarah and the kids have taken great care of me, and I continue to try and do more things on my own each day. One thing that I have noticed since the tumor was removed is I can feel emotions better. I have been more engaged with my family and people in general. I doubt I become an extrovert, but I’m a more social introvert now. I play games with the kids and interact with them more than I have in years. Sarah and I are doing better as well. I’ve told her I’m not using the tumor as an excuse for me becoming distant in our marriage, but I do think that not having the tumor has allowed me to appreciate how lucky I am to have Sarah by my side. I am humbled at how strong Sarah is by not giving up on me and continuing to work hard to have our marriage be healthy. That is one area where I know I can be an active contributor now.

The final thing that this process showed me is how kind people are. The amount of love and help that has been poured out over all of us is overwhelming. This love was expressed through prayers, cards, gifts, meals, helping with household and yard chores, talking with Sarah to help her process everything, and text messages to see how I am doing. This isn’t something we asked for, it just happened. I will never be able to thank everyone enough for all that has been done for our family, but I am humbled by it.

I stopped by the office the other day for a little bit to see all of my co-workers. I miss them dearly as I have taken off more time in the past month than I have in the past 10 years combined. I was humbled by how many people came to see me and hear the good news about the tumor being benign. While I will still be out of the office for a couple more weeks, it did my soul good to see everyone and thank them for covering my workload during my absence.

I think that about summarizes what I have felt throughout this removal of Bartholomew (aka brain tumor). I thank God daily for the blessings he has poured out on all of us, but especially for saving my life. I will continue to seek out God’s plan for me, as I truly believe this was his way of saying, “I’m not through with you yet.” In just a few short weeks I have been humbled by medical professionals, friends and family, and most importantly God. I do feel like this is my second chance to live life to its fullest, love those around me harder, and most importantly continue to seek out God’s plan for me.

Title Pending.....

Tonight I sit in one of my favorite spots in our home, our back deck - in one of our two K-State purple rocking chairs, overlooking the sunset. The sunsets just to the left of my "thinking tree" the tree that I sit and look at in the mornings while drinking coffee or in the evening while having a glass of wine. I have shared a lot of thoughts with this tree throughout the past 5 years, have spent a lot of time in prayer here and a lot of time asking God some tough questions. 15 years ago I dreamt that someday I would be able to watch the sunset in my rocking chair, that I would be able to have a large garden, that I would have a family, and that we would have a small little hobby farm for our children to grow up on and to experience some of life's hidden and greatest treasures (I didn't dream about having a camel then, but I most certainly do now, so there are still goals!), I wanted my children to learn about love and loss, about living and dying, about the purpose and importance of raising livestock, to learn to love the land that they live on, and to leave things better off then how they found it (we are still working on that).... and here we are - living that dream. 

As I sit here tonight and reflect on those things, I am so overwhelmed by the last month. 

Today we had our follow up appointment in Topeka, this was the first time that we saw our PA and Neurosurgeon since the day we were sent home. One of the first Thank You notes I wrote when we got home was to our surgeon. I thanked her for giving Kevin a new lease at life, I thanked her for giving our children the father that they deserved and I thanked her for giving Kevin and I a new start and a second chance. There are so many other things that I want to thank her for, but I am not sure that there are words for so many of my feelings - I am still working through some of that. 

Today we found out that Kevin's tumor is benign, that it is a Grade 2 (it could be worse, it could be better) and that it is indeed a meningioma (we were pretty sure that it was this based upon what they saw when we got in there). We air hugged our surgeon, we shared a lot of our successes and we talked a lot about progress. He will most likely have some radiation, just to keep the tumor from coming back again, but this will be up to the hematologist and oncologist that we will meet in another month. Right now, we just want to focus on Kevin getting healthier and stronger. He has been released to begin to lift more weight each and every week (5lbs. for the first 3 weeks was not much) and is allowed to bend over. While he is not allowed to run, kick box (no 9Round for him) or anything aggressive, he is allowed to go on longer walks, ride his incumbent bike and other non-impactful things (Kennedy is excited to go on walks with him). We just don't want to shake his brain up. 

We went to Kevin's office, and all of the staff from the Shawnee County DA's Office came into the lobby. I have never realized how many people Kevin works with, he talks about different attorney's, different legal assistants and tosses names around here and there, but seeing their physical presence today gave me goose bumps. The love, generosity and compassion that his office has shown him through this process is something that all organizations should strive to do for all of their employees. While Kevin was in the hospital, I ate lunch one day with all of those who were around (and the conference room was full), I spent some time in Chuck's office with some of Kevin's co-workers, just sharing in what we knew and what was to come for this treatment plan. These were some of the happier times I had during that week, his co-workers shared stories about Kevin and silly nuances that he has (his lack of organization!).  In the past, I have criticized Kevin for being too loyal to the work that he does and is loyal to a fault, and today I realized why he has such a strong commitment to everyone there. Today I realized why that loyalty is so important. Today I saw that loyalty returned in prayers, love and social distanced hugs; not just today, but throughout the last month. 

Mike Kagay, your support of your attorneys and staff has not gone unnoticed, and our family publicly thanks you for that. 

On our way home tonight we hit Highway 99, as we were coming into Wamego I was so overwhelmed by our good news, our loving friends, our supportive employers (both of our employers) and everything that has happened, and the tears just started to flow. I have held it together for most of this journey, I found strength where I never knew strength existed. I have found confidence and calmness in a time of unknowns and turmoil. I have said to myself on more than one occasion "not today satan" when the negative thoughts, the what-ifs and the uncertainties started to surface. Today I cried happy tears on our way home, tears of joy, tears of thankfulness and tears of weeks of anxiety that I didn't even know where there, and I began to find peace. 

While today a very large chapter of our lives came to an end, a new chapter of our lives has begun. I have written more this summer between the blog and an intense grad school course, than I have written over the last few years. I have found peace and solace in my writing this summer, with the blog and also with class. I have started to find enjoyment in writing instead of the dreaded groan. To those of you who are following our journey we thank you, to those of you who have texted/called/IM'd/sent messages/communicated in some ways, we thank you. To those of you who have prayed for us or sent us positive thoughts, we thank you. To anyone reading this, we thank you. 

Kevin volunteered (I asked him) to write a blog post, I'll post that tomorrow so that many of you can hear from him. His progress is nothing short of a miracle.