When Faith Keeps Your Head Above Water....

On November Nineteenth, I picked up Kris.  

For yet another appointment.  Blood draw, port change, and one more spinal chemo. 

As I sat in the car he sent a text stating "They Found A Match Mom"-

The feeling deep in a mama's soul was pure warmth, and yet a flash of oh shits. 

Pulling out of the driveway, he asked for a Gatorade.  I made my way into CVS.  As I stood at the register, smiling at the adorable elderly worker whom gives her every bit of heart to all those purchasing anything....I smiled so big back at her, to soon see my phone ringing with a (626) area code.  City of Hope, my stomach dropped again. 

As I answer, our coordinator is on the other end.  The conversation went from calm, to estatic, to tears, to unbelief, to finally "Kathy, can we celebrate this for Thanksgiving?"  As in, is this like really gonna happen?-

Yes, dear, this is fantastic news...was her response-  

I jump in the car, as we drive down the road to his appointment, both crying.  He just a tear or three.  Me?

Wellowing...haha...

My grand plan was to announce to Kali and Bill on Thanksgiving Day.  But with a small hiccup, the word got out.  And so....we decided to share to the world and extended family with a little video.  At first he didn't want the little posters I made (Kinda girlie Mama)- But with the help of Jens family....I won. ha. 

Video is blurry, but you get the deal right? I certainly hope so....it was made in 15 minutes LOL (the music was chosen by our fighter boy)

There's so many details I will share...

He has solid testing for the next 2 weeks with an admit date on Dec 14th.  He will undergo a transplant treatment plan that will require lots of rehabilitation.  Lots of Love.  Lots of PRAYER....and lots of good vibes.

I will post some more this week, just trying to settle in after being out of town. We tucked away at the lake. My sister and niece, and Jens family. 

Really, I couldn't describe a more sincere weekend filled with genuine gratitude.  Ever. 

He's in good spirits right now, with a body ready to take on the fight for his life.  But we'll suit up.  

I've got to find my biggest Mama Warrior Boots.  Because ain't no stoppin' us now!

Big Love,  

Remember to cherish the simple things in life.  Because as I always say...one phone call kids. 

One flip of the page in this life.   And just like that....you're fighting for a life.  If not yours...maybe your baby. 

We'll chat tomorrow?

Okay...

This Mama Warrior Lisa

Hey Yo, Happy Friday!

 

Airports see more sincere kisses than wedding halls-The walls of hospitals have heard more prayers than the walls of churches.....

Something to think about....Have a good weekend kids...

Big love and big hugs....

Go spread peace and kindness...This world needs you.  

If not, offer a smile..."Because you never know what people are going through"

Love,

This Mama Warrior Lisa

Truth

For those that know me well will say...Ya she's a peace and love type of girl.  But man, she can drop an F bomb like a sailor.  Something I'm not proud of, along with occasional road rage.  Most irritated when someone rides my ass, or doesn't give you the polite "Thank you" hand wave/gesture when I either let them in, or let them walk across. Please tell me you ALL give the hands up, all good gesture when someone lets you in, or lets you walk by...But this quote (found on my aunt Michelle's FB page) made me crack up. 

It's so me.  

Not really proud of but keeping things real. 

Maybe it's the tomboy in me.  

Maybe it's the path I've walked all these years.

Maybe it just feels good to say it. 

Do you have a bad word favorite?  If not, well...good for you!

#Thug

 Hey cancer, you see this?

Happy Thursday Flippers-

Stay number one....

Time to plan your meals for Thanksgiving!

Big love and middle fingers to the knuckleheads!

The Warrior Mama Lisa

Pretty Birdie.

So many days, and so many nights I left words unsaid.  To her. 

The little girl that made me the doting soccer mama.  The little girl that sucked her thumb with not a care in the world. Even when folks would make their silly comments about it, she just kept on.  

One of the things I've admired most about her, is she has always led her mind on it's own.  She's never been persuaded by others.  Her stubborn ways have kept her paving pavements.  

We just recently talked about not really needing to punish Kris or Kali because three words I would say to them, fixed it all.  "Shame on you"- 

She laughed saying how that would make her crumble inside.  Not that I never grabbed both of them by the arm and shook them.   They knew I was boss. 

She's such a kind soul.  She's navigated through this last year like a champ.  Heartbreak in a break up with the guy she loved so much. Still missing the family she became so close to. Watching her brother and family shrivel into a lump of tears.  Listening to me try to explain procedures or doctor visits to soon pausing because she knew I was trying not to cry.  

Hanging up with me falling into the arms of her sorority sisters because that's all she has out there. 

Taking care of responsibilities out at school. Living on her own. Keeping a 4.0 and learning to navigate through being on her own.  Groceries, cooking, cleaning, coping with roommates, health and studies. All of it.

So many days, and so many nights I lay my head down thinking, "man, I should of told her more"-

I'm proud of you Kali. You have moved the biggest mountain of all.  You stood tall at times when you felt you couldn't.  You made decisions you knew were in your best interest. 

You have made the best days for me.  

Even when you send me pictures from your formal with Maddie, and I think the apple juice was spiked. 

Keep moving mountains, and don't look back. 

This life is yours.  And from what I see, your offer to this life is unstoppable success.

Just stay away from apple juice at sorority pre-game parties......K?

It seems to make you put silly hats on, and have yittle tiny eyes-

Cheers!  

Happy Wednesday friends..

This Mama Lisa

Tid-Bits

Made it through the weekend.

That alone is the biggest defeat. 

Kris' doctor appointment on Friday started as normal blood draw with his Dad. I would arrive shortly after making the next step before I thought would be just one bag of chemo.  Making this sound like a walk in the park, and in reality when he's outpatient it is. 

The arrival at 1, and not leaving until a big bag of Rituxan (chemo) and another small bag of chemo, -can't remember the name- We'd leave at 5pm, driving home both exhausted.  Him more than me, but I run on silly energy.  Making sure I've picked up the latest meds, wiped everything down, made the perfect car bed, pulled up and out of wind...etc.  You mama and papa birdies get my drill...right?

Offering food along the way, with one craving for a chicken sandwich local to them by the beach.

As I walked inside it was all I could do but notice the filthy kitchen.  A girl washing tomatoes in a little sink they'd probably washed hands, knives, and whatever else in.

The thing about cancer patients and counts.  YOU CAN'T MESS WITH THAT SHIT. 

As I walked out with his food, stepping back into the car. The polite suggestions began.

Expressing to him how important these little things are.  Places he eats, etc.  You almost become the "meanie mama"-

I arrived home exhausted, but not really from doing anything other than the normal crazy mama bird duties.

Turning the news on to hear of the tragic events unfolding in front of my eyes.  Making this nightmare we're in seem minuscule-

Saturday morning I had plans to attend Savannah's birthday brunch, plus a much needed hair appt.

He'd text me first thing asking "to come and get him"

Long story short, he had major cabin fever, and Jen was gonna do a mama daughter day with her mama.

And so....scooped him up.  We were on fever watch.  As his counts continued to drop by weeks end.  My soul was prepared for a round in the hospital.  By Sunday, same thing.  We all stayed low-key. Sitting dock side together.  Waiting.  Cooking for them and waiting.  Trying to talk all things NOT cancer.

Just being together. 

We made it through the weekend without a fever.  By Monday early morning I thanked GOD, whom has been there with me at 1,2,3 and 4am throughout this nightmare.  Praying, and sometimes crying.  Falling back to sleep just praying to rest.  Most nights lately I do fall back to sleep.  I've told you all how crazy little things have happened to me right?  Crazy spiritual things.  Call me a little hippy silly head.  But one day....I want to spill it all out to you...

Faith is working for me.

I sit at Kris' desk throughout the day.  He had an appt yesterday.  Jen took him.

I receive the email from his doctor- "Your counts have recovered, stop taking your neurpogen shots, along with -and he listed the 3 others for recovery" However you are anemic- No restrictions at this time-

My body smiled.  From the inside out. 

Texting him to look at his messages. 

Researching immediately to find whatever I can naturally to rebound his blood for anemia.  He's so pale, and skinny. 

So last night.  The little things.  Recovered counts. An appetite fighting to come back. A silly side of him we all love to see. His smile with that little dimple.  Counting down the days to step away again to a place that we all feel safe in.  Together.  As a family.

Where you can try to live with normalcy.  Kind of forgetting the next steps.

Checking back into the hospital for Round 4 on Nov. 30- The following day from returning from our hiding spot.

Yesterday I spoke to our transplant coordinator. There's blood work being processed as I type.  From humans that donated their time. Their life.  Their blood.  To save my son's.

I pray each day for the call.  The next biggest step.  For life.

And this nightmare to be over.

Happy Tuesday kids.  I've always read this quote-

And thought...ya little things are big things.

Right now in our world...?

Counts.  A smiling dude bird that is eating.  Or laughing and sending us funny things.

Planning to get away. Down to pajamas for all of us.  Or a new lens he bought.

Or a new recipe they want me to make.  Or who's driving with who.  Getting together as a family.

Celebrating life. 

May you all have a day filled with peace.  I hope you can find little things to help you through the tough times.

Big love, and cheers to better counts and NO FEVER!

Mama Warrior Lisa

 

Being Schooled.

Though I've spent the last few weeks, and months sorting my feelings here on my blog there are things I think you should know. 

I've been schooled on a few things. 

It's amazing to walk through a crisis with shimmery lights coming through. 

Things like-

Reaching back out to a long lost family member separated by divorce, and hurt. A state away, but grabbed me by my heart because she's a Mama, and she is imagining this fight.  And because it's her nephew. The nephew she wrapped her arms around when he was just a tike.

Reconnecting with girlfriends you haven't spoke to in over a year because life got in the way, but connecting through the phone, as tears stream down my face.  She came by knowing where my hidden key is and stuffed Homemade Eggplant Parmesan in my fridge remembering it was my favorite dish. 

Receiving emails from my soccer community offering love, fundraising, their time and mostly kindness.

Coming home after a long day at the hospital to a note on my door. Or a cactus plant. Or a card. I've saved every single one.  Some day I plan to put a scrap book together.  Not for the happiness sake, but more for just memories. 

Sending emails to my family every day.  Updating them, while sometimes feeling bad that I use my favorite F word, knowing they don't really care.  They just want to know the latest on my birdie.

Watching Kali become a mature adult away doing what she does best at school. Taking shit by the horns and making her life happen.  Even when Mama forgets to text her on cute little important moments.  Mostly because I am hovering over her bro. 

Meeting new nurses and people that work hard to keep my boy going.  Even if it's just ice or a clean blood pressure cuff because they know I am a freak. 

Smiling at my boy and his smirking smile with that dimple right back during his darkest hours.  He does it for me. I made him promise me he'd fight with all he has.  I can't lose him. 

Standing in my living room hugging Bill tighter than we've ever hugged before.  With more meaning than any money could ever stress us out over. 

Waking up in the morning and smiling at eachother when he knows I want to just lay there and cry.  But we get up.  I put my warrior boots on and continue on.

Listening to his sisters tell me over and over what a good mama I am, and they know I can get through this.

Appreciating neighbors that spread love and food because they've known us, and our will to march on.

Understanding human nature in two parents that have never babied me, therefore learning this is life.  You can't change people, you just become a tad bit stronger and willing. 

Holding closer to my sister.  The only girl on this Earth that knows every ounce of me, and knows this nightmare inside and out.  We are like little alley cats that blossomed through life, and she knows I can do this.  

Learning more about food, nutrition, and small facts of protecting ones self from Cancer. 

Sugar feeds cancer and you worry when his cravings are just that-

Crossing paths with old friends from the field that have gone through this cancer path and transplant. Sharing small details, yet enough that make my stomach flip.  Because I am scared. 

Hugs mean more to me than anything else in the world. 

I've always been very secure with my independence, and lately I am the most insecure person. 

His girlfriend has been the large boulder of a rock to him.  She's stronger than me some days.  Still smiling for me, when I stand over his bed in tears. She pushes us to get strong.  Even when he looks like a little frail bird.  I've learned more names of medication than I ever thought possible. I know with each round what to ask for and what not. I've learned that squeaky wheels DO get oiled.  It's all part of this life. 

I've learned I have a strong tongue that doesn't tolerate bullshit very much during some of my darkest days. 

Shark week fucks me up.  

Cancer is wicked.  And it's scary.  But it won't take our family down.  

To my friends and family that have reached out.  Thank you.  To those I can't reach back to, I'm sorry.

I try, and I try.  

Some days seem so hopeful, like when he's on a boat.  Or sending and posting silly pictures.  I literally exhale. 

And then you have the big bag of reality that goes everywhere with me, waiting for his transplant date, and page after page of paperwork I navigate through.  For appointments, meds, and doctors. His financials alone would blow your mind. Three separate medicines that cost over 10k dollars, but our cost is much much less, but still you question things. 

Don't get me started on the homeopathic natural websites I find myself digging into late at night. 

Let's just say that healthy eating, researching and living is really the way to be.  Cancer statistics are increasing at an alarming rate people-

I love my friends, and I love my family.  Thank you for holding me up during the darkest days. 

Have a great weekend....

AXO Formal for Kali, birthday celebrations for Sav,
Drag races for Bill, and a much needed hair appointment for me.  Kris...well, after chemo tomorrow let's hope he has strength.  An appetite and big big smiles...

Who's ready for THANKSGIVING?  This girl.....

Right here. At this place.  A place I find safety.  Love.  Peace, and family.

"Peace begins with a smile"

Where Was I.

During the week I email updates to my family.  I try to email daily, sometimes every other, or few.
Last week ended just like I knew it would.  Tough.
 
He became sicker and sicker as the week came to a close.  On Wednesday the bloated feeling started, soon turning to complete outright, yuck.
Friday morning my sister is the first to get to the hospital.  She lives close by, and it's her routine.
She stops by to bring food, gatorade, pickles, and whatever else he's mentioned during the day before.
On Friday, it wasn't good.  He was flat out sick.  Dry heaving into his bucket.  His last chemo round on Thursday would inevitably stretch his body to the limit, and the sight to see was what we knew.
Sick.
I scurried around my house as I do when things get yucky. It's kind of like when they are sick and little, and you start organizing everything and kind of walking in circles.  If you don't or never did, pardon me.
I do.
I arrived at 7:30am, and the look he gave me was just what any mama doesn't want to see.
Bloated face, white and bucket in his hands.  "Mom, this is horrible"-
I know honey, I know. This went on every ten minutes for hours.

The day went from hard to harder.  His doctor stopped by and I'd be firing off all my questions.  Questions of concern, and questions of frustration.  Bill piping in with the concerns he's tainted with. Surprising me with some I've thought of, but become tongue tied and overwhelmed, especially on the super hard days. There wasn't any further medicine to help with the nausea.  As he stated, young men have a harder time with these rounds of chemo.  My plea was to spread out these rounds to at least 3 weeks. 
He did prescribe something to help him "relax"-

He wanted to shower to take the smell of chemo off of him.  Something he expresses over and over.
As I helped him shower, he held on to the bar letting the water run down his face.  Telling me "so crazy we are going through this Mom"-
I handed him wash cloth after wash cloth.  Loaded with soap. Stuffed into that little bathroom with the door closed--- Getting towels ready to help dry him off to step out into his room we set at 80.  I was a frothy sweaty mess. Nothing like that matters though.
Once I got him back in bed.  With his bucket, the nurse gave him the pill, and I pleaded to try hard to let it dissolve and get into his system.  I sat there in that chair next to his bed without moving a single muscle. Mama's and Papa's out there know the feeling when they were babies, and would finally fall asleep you'd rather chew your arm off than wake them....
The show on the tv set at Dr. Oz (whom bugs me...sorry, not sorry, it's his voice I think..?...)
He slept for another hour before sitting up in a daze.  I'd ask him if he had to pee, or offering some gatorade.
He couldn't speak.  He just stared at me and laid back down.  This went on until Saturday morning. When Jen arrived at the hospital switching spots, she said the same thing.  He was out.of.it.
Saturday morning he seemed better in spirit, but a body still wiped out.
By Saturday evening, he wanted to go home.  But his parents were scared. Jen is quite the nurse, but as a mama, you just worry.  I know, roll your eyes people that think I am over worry-ish.  Get over it.
This shit is scary.  He couldn't even keep his eyes open.  Let alone walk. 

Saturday late afternoon, he'd get the release paperwork.  Too weak to walk out of the hospital, and so our favorite little nurse Vanessa wheeled him out.  He loved the warm fresh air as he got into Jen's car. All the meds.  His favorite blankie. And home bound he went. 
I always turn to Bill when scared.  I stood looking at their car drive off, thinking......why.  WHY?!
I still can't stand to see him so sick. It makes my body break down too. Only in a different way.
The feeling of helplessness, when all the years I've been able to help him.

 
Sunday our group texts' back and forth were "did ya eat anything yet"-  Sipping on your gatorade...- Make sure to take your two shots in your belly at 11am, to keep with hospital schedule- and so on, and so on...you get it.

Monday morning, we text again at sunrise.  As we always do.  His note to me that his appointment for blood draw at 12:30, and spinal chemo after, two different locations.  I made his cozy bed in my car, drove to work, back to him.  A long day at a place we've become to know all too well.  Faces are familiar, people are kind. Things get wiped down.  Talks get deep. Hugs get a little more meaningful.  Smiles are deep.  Love is deep.

We'll watch his counts drop within the next couple of days.  Precautionary things we do sometimes help.  Sometimes they don't. I've made a plan with the doctor that if by Friday his counts are super low, and a fever becomes present, we'll just email a pass for admission, rather than a re-admit through ER, which just grosses me out.  We'd rather just head back up to the 4th Floor.  Wait on X-Rays, blood work, hydration. Meds. Doctors.  I panic in ER.  He mostly the same.  The familiar first night of this bad dream.

Last night it was all I could do to stop at the store to buy coffee I was out of.  Home to wash dishes I left in my sink, and I CANT STAND A DIRTY SINK.  My hair so dirty and piled so high like a rats nest on the top of my head.  I jumped in the hottest shower, washing my hair, putting on my favorite black holey sweats, and crawling into my precious bed.  Glancing at the 20 plus text messages from friends and family.  The only ones I could return was to my babies.

He sent me one silly text right before bed.  And my soul was at ease.

He also told me how he reads through instagram of various people fighting through cancers, and chemo.  How it makes him cry to see the faces of many on their last round.  He knows this fight.

He will get through this.  It's a mess.  Some days are brighter and more hopeful than others.
Today, his migraine is squeezing itself back into his head.  We go back on Friday morning. More chemo. More blood work.

Pray for my baby.  My fuzzy head little but tall bird.  He's gonna win this.

HE.  Is gonna win this!

For those I wasn't able to reach back out to last night.  I'm sorry. 

Some days the simplest tasks seem easy.

While others it's a fete to call, or text someone back. 

One. Day. At. A. Time.

Love to you all,

This Warrior Mama Lisa

The Scattered Brain

Wow, can't believe 4 days have blasted by and yet no posting from Mama. 

Monday started just like we knew it would. 

He drove to my house.  Tucked his car away in the driveway. 

We arrived just as we were told. Only this time his spinal didn't take place until almost 3pm. So you

can only imagine how that day from 9-3 went.  Sitting in that room, talking with the sweet nurses we know so well now. All the "Hey Kris'" to later, my antsy ways walking out asking what's up.

Chemo would soon start after he was back into his room.  This time I made sure he laid flat after his spinal. Last time was horrific for him.

We are now on day 4 of solid chemo.  Yesterday when I arrived with Clam Chowder he was so happy to see me, but I could see the look. The look that finally seeped deep into his roots. Where chemo takes over, and his body starts to break down.  The bloat he feels from the many, many bags of fluids they push through. 

He's always on his phone. It's his only way to take his mind off of what we are trying to consider "the normal fight, gotta get through this"

Where as deep down inside, each and every single time I step into that smelly elevator, my heart weeps.  I feel like screaming at everyone.  Yet, I smile.  I am breaking down, but will remain tough. I always always have.

We knew that by the end of the week it would be full out war. War between cancer and my boys strong but weak body.  We played cards yesterday.  I could feel his uneasiness as I was ready to leave.  And so, I waited.  Work can wait.  Sometimes things just have to wait.  Even at the ripe age of twenty six. Mom is Mom. And that lady is the soul to help ease through the shittiest of shittiest of feelings. Even when you try to put on a strong face, and rely on people to help you know it's gonna be okay...that everything is okay.  It's really not. 

We played "Fish" and I continued to lose, and we laughed. Every so often he'd stare at me, and I knew he is hurting and feeling so nauseated inside. Yet, he continued on.  For me.  And yet, we both didn't want to stop, because there wasn't anything else to take the pain away besides that little black phone in his hand.  Or his laptop.  Or the tv quietly playing in the background.  A TV that he really never watches.  We never have.

When Jen was close, I packed up my stuff.  Soup that my Aunt Lynda brought-Thank you for that dinner-I made my path by the nurses station, letting them know that I was flying back to my nest.  That he was alone. But his girlfriend was on her way. That his bedding needed changed, and maybe even a shower.  He hates the way his body starts to smell about .....day 2-3.  It's something only a chemo patient can know. 

I kissed his shoulder.  Deep inside I still feel like he's my baby. Like I wish I could just get a little dropper of Tylenol, and play a game to make him open his mouth, and then the pain would subside, and we'd go back to playing.  To climbing trees.  Something he loved so much as a child.  

Right now, it's a fight.  Round three is a motherfucker. I see it. 

I got home last night trying to return all the messages as I sat at lights. I know, shoot me, I text at lights. Fuck.

I arrived home to a box of flowers delivered from my sister in law Regina in Arizona. 

Her note:

Lisa, I am so amazed at your strength and endurance.  You are an amazing light to everyone around you.

I hope this made you feel special.  We all know you making other people feel special is usually your specialty. 

Love you,

Regina.

What a way to close out a day. Right?

Today and last night I tossed and turned.  There is a maternal instinct in a mama's soul that knows.  Feels. Digests sadness and sickness and pain. We know as mama's.  We know when things aren't right. Even when we're told the nightmare will soon close out, or "things will get better, he's a fighter"

I hear you friends. And family.

This morning he's sick.  He's been puking all night.  And receiving more chemo as I type this. 

It's shitty to type this instead of posting all the cute pictures of many sweet memories we made last weekend.72 hours of love. Of sunshine. And coves, and fish and laughter.  Just our unit. 

This round will be tougher than the last, and we thought that was hard. They give a new chemo this afternoon on top of the one flowing through him right now.  

I will tuck away again, with a scattered brain,and tired body.  I smile. I do. I work. I try. 

But deep deep down, I fucking hate this. 

Thank you for the love.  The texts' and notes. I hear you.  I need you.  I am tired.  Again.

But....I will always look for sunny days. 

How about these cool mornings friends?  How about these beautiful days? 

Let's look at them. 

My Everything.

Wishing you all a beautiful weekend.  He's gonna be in all weekend, with a spinal on Monday.  That spinal to pull what we want to see as a good signs. That his body is fighting back.  That Cancer is leaving. I meet with the match/hla team next week at City Of Hope.  Putting a face to the voices that I spoke to this week. You know me trying to talk, asking questions...taking a break every so often because I start to fucking cry. 

And Kayla on the other end offering every bit of her kind soul and love because she understands.

I can tell you this. Science, and technology of computers, humans, blood typing and international searching a data base on the daily, and the thought that doctors gather every Wed to save lives. 

THAT is bad assness.  THAT is something I never knew I would become a specialist in researching. 

They have drawn blood from 1 of 4 possible matches to that dude up above. It takes a few weeks to see if they match.  And they do this week, after week after week to save lives. 

That......is life.  That is love. 

Human Kindness. In medicine. And in humanity.  It is love.

Might not blog for a few days. My brain is scattered, and my body is flustered. 

Go spread love.  And always spread kindness. Smile at a stranger, because kids...you NEVER know what they are battling. 

Love you,

This WARRIOR MAMA LISA