If I have to start somewhere...

I guess I'll just start with today.  I've said many times I couldn't do a blog.  However, my life has been forever changed by a blog by my good friend Holly, who shared the details of her life while caring for her husband with cancer.  We attended the funeral of her sweet husband Trent just yesterday.  Holly and Trent's story has profoundly changed ours.  So, to continue to carry the torch for those who struggle with sarcoma, and to share this journey with our children who will have many questions one day, I've created this blog.

My husband Mark has stage 4, De-differentiated Liposarcoma.  Sarcoma is a rare form of cancer, a one-in-a-million diagnosis.  He was diagnosed on Feburary 17, 2010.  That year he went through 5 weeks of highest-dose radiation, on 7 areas, and he was in so much pain he couldn't bear the drive to and from Salt Lake City, so we lived in a hotel.  Then there was surgery to remove the primary tumor, the size of a small football, in his left hip.  There was some talk of removing the leg.  Fortunately this didn't happen, and after a week at the Huntsman Cancer Institute, we came home to our 5 children who really had been missing us.  Thank heavens for the help of friends and family!

We enjoyed 8 months of weakened but good health, but on March of 2011, the CT showed local recurrence ( a new tumor growing in the primary location).  Mark's cancer is highly aggressive, and because radiation had not slowed the growth prior to surgery the last time, they reversed the order and did the surgery first.  Again there was talk of removing the leg, and fortunately this did not happen.  The surgery took 8 hours, and the bad news was they were unable to get negative margins.  That means that in addition to taking the diseased tissue, the doctor takes part of the surrounding healthy tissue in an attempt to prevent recurrence.  Next, Mark endured 6 weeks of highest-dose radiation to 13 areas!  Mark has now had the max dose of radiation to the area, and they will not allow more.  We again lived in Salt Lake City, and by the grace and love of many family and friends we made it through that challenging time.   

A follow-up CT scan on July 8, 2011, revealed our greatest fear had happened.  Not only was there local recurrence, but this time multiple tumors in both of his lungs.  This means that Mark is terminal.  I have so many good things to say about the staff at the Huntsman, but that moment we were given that particular news was not handled well. That certainly wasn't the first time I cried and cried, and it won't be the last.  I called my Dad and told him that my heart was broken, and it still is today, but my heart still works and we keep living life as much as we can.

When you switch gears from trying to save a life, to trying to make life as comfortable as possible (palliative care), priorities become so much clearer.  Life is sweeter, love is deeper, all moments are more precious.  Some might say that they are greatful for life's big trials because of the blessings, but I still think that cancer sucks.  It's ugly, it's painful, it's terribly inconsiderate.

This past year has been spent trying chemo regiments.  Mark has completed 14 rounds already.  They are incredibly hard.  We also discovered that he has a blood clot that runs the length of his bad leg, and he lives in pain every single day.  Through all of this Mark hasn't stopped working, he has a smile on his face and will say that he's doing OK.  He's a warrior like that. 

I'll share more as time goes on.  This is a lot of information,  but I had to start somewhere.