It's taken me a few days to process our day at the Huntsman. On Wednesday, March 27th we spent a long, long, day at the hospital(s) running tests, infusion of meds, cleaning the port in his chest, and the CT scan. Mark has to drink the contrast fluid on an empty stomache, and he ended up nauseated during the entire day (that stuff tastes aweful). He had low energy, and felt unhappy to have to be in the hospital again. Every appointment was running late, we sat for hours in waiting rooms, with Mark in pain. It was not a good day.
Hope, that beautiful word has been a source of pain and joy for me these years in the cancer world. I've held out hope to varying degrees for a miracle. We've had several small ones, and those have been wonderful for us! I am now in a place of complete surrender to God's will. When Mark shared the Easter lesson in our combined Relief Society/Priesthood meeting yesterday...he spoke of doubting Thomas. Thomas loved Christ so much that he dared not hope for something so big, so great, as to believe he really could overcome death. I think I can relate to Thomas in that kind of love. I love Mark so much, that I no longer dare to hope for something so big, so great, as his life to be spared. Everytime I do hope, I hurt more and more everytime I'm shown the path before me. I've felt this loss countless times already.
Mark is strong and fearless in the path before him. He gets discouraged on occasion but it never lasts for long. He has also never lost hope in a miracle. However, after our meeting with Dr. Gouw to discuss the results of the CT scan, I saw the hope fade and this time I hurt for his loss of hope. I hurt to see him accept the inevitable....again. Our drive home was somber and tears streamed down my cheeks.
Dr. Gouw gave us some useful information, but most of our meeting was covering what we already know. Without chemo treatments all of the tumors are growing. The two largest are the size of tennis balls (but not perfectly round). The tumors are not fast-growing right now, which is nice to hear. The doctor said we still have "months" ahead of us. I will let myself dream about Mark being able to baptize our daughter Ava on May 4th, and I will continue to make plans for our birthday bash, believing that he will be able to party with us. Don't ask me to set plans for this summer though, we'll take that one week at a time.
One thing is for certain. If Mark had not done chemo treatments at all, he would've died in 2011. His perserverance through treatment has bought us a lot of quality time together. I am so grateful for the medical treatments we've had, and incredibly grateful for Mark's strength to endure them.
So, do we hold out hope???? We do. We hope that our time left together is filled with more adoration, and sharing with our children. We hope that we've done and said all that we should to eachother and our children to prepare for our time apart. We hope that our faith in Heavenly Father's plan of salvation will bring peace to us all. We hope that we use these lessons of love and loss to allow us to have deeper hearts. We hope that our story will somehow bless our family and friends.
Hope is a beautiful gift.
Praying and hoping along with you. Mark's lesson Sunday was something I will never forget. Words fail me. So thankful I could be there. I love you all.
ReplyDeleteI feel the same way. Words fail me too~even more so because yours are so beautiful. I love you and am certainly blessed by you and your story <3
ReplyDeleteLaDena now tears are streaming here. SO BEAUTIFULLY SAID. You and Mark are such an inspiration to so many but to us for sure! We love you all and pray for your peace and comfort. Here is to Hope. LOVE and Hugs and Prayers are sent your way from us. Love the Hills
ReplyDeleteThank you Laurie, Paisley and the Hill family. We love you all too!
ReplyDeleteMy heart aches for you every day. Steve and I were quite unusually asked to teach primary Easter Sunday and as I read your words here, my words to those small children about the miracle of resurrection and immortality with our family floats back to me. I know it is not the miracle we all want for you, but it is the greatest miracle when all is said and done. I have often been told we come to earth to learn specific lessons, and once those are learned our time here ends. That is why those with the most beautiful spirit leave, their learning is done. Not fair for the rest of is who stumble along still trying to grow. Hugs top you all!
ReplyDeleteThanks Stephanie, I bet you and Steve did a great job on the Primary easter lesson. I am so greatful for the atonement, resurrection and the plan of salvation that is a gift to us all. I pray that I can do my part to endure to the end and be worthy to be reunited with my eternal family. In the meantime, I'm wishing technology would allow me to facebook or at least text into heaven so Mark and I could communicate regularly :)
DeleteNo one should ever, EVER lose hope. It's just that sometimes, the things we hope for, change. And that's not all a bad thing. We learn to adapt and to accept God's will. Sometimes that is the most difficult thing to do. I remember feeling just as you did when we had our last appointment with Dr. Gouw. When there's not much you can do as far as that BIG miracle, you CAN continue to have small miracles each and every day. You just have to open your eyes and be willing to SEE those small miracles. They're always there. God loves us SO much and doesn't want to see us suffer, even though he knows it's for our good. So he opens up the Heavens and gives us small little miracles...little glimpses into Heaven that will hopefully strengthen our testimony and keep our faith in Him. You and Mark are both incredible people...keep hanging on...
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