Track 2

Just some of that fab support network & fav wedding pic. 

Jason has always been an incredible man to me. Why else would I marry him? I didn't need to see him combat cancer over and over to know what he was capable of, I knew he was worthy of this life! He and I fell in love becoming best friends in college, as we both were figuring out how to manage our lives and become adults in this world. I went to Michigan State University and graduated in the College of Education. He decided to fulfill his lifelong dream of fighting crime when he heard the criminal justice program and Police Academy at Lansing Community College call his name. We both pursued childhood goals and had remarkable friends and family to love and support us all along the way. Nobody was surprised when one Christmas Eve, Jason finally popped the question and we were set to get hitched. It was just meant to be from the start.

December 2010 - A chemo we will go. 

Jason and I actually waited quite a while to have the wedding, though. Much like a lot of things with the two of us, we don’t rush into much. We tend to bide our time, wait for the right moment, make a plan. It was important to be sure school was out of the way for me, a job was lined up, my master’s degree was in progress, and my first year of teaching was under my belt before we walked down the aisle. Everything needed to be just right so when we decided to have that houseful of babies we dreamed of we’d have no worries, or when we wanted to travel, we could do just that, or just in case we wanted to remodel the kitchen in our first home, it was no problem. Little did I know, the track we were laying out, the one we’d been planning for all this time, wasn't the one that we would necessarily follow. The plan was in place, though and that was enough for me back then – I had my guy and we were very happy together.

Enter cancer. And it had other plans for our life.

Summer of radiation, 2011. Maddy was turning 6. 

In the year of Jason’s diagnosis everything we’d ever known about our lives, ourselves, and our future was challenged. I think Jason confronted some old beliefs about himself, even – about how much he could endure, just how brave he could be, and what he could and would do in order to survive this disease. We learned, we loved, and we grew together into a family living with cancer. We've grown stronger for it and that is a great thing.

After Jason’s lung surgery in September of 2010, chemotherapy was once again in order. So, that December , he began the next six month bout of cancer-killing drugs, a lighter round this time though, since it didn't contain the harsh drug oxaliplatin like the first round, though other ones that complicated life a bit, to be sure, were added. Dr. Rapson added a new infusion treatment called Avastin, which would continue even after the 12 cycles of chemotherapy were complete. Avastin’s job is to slow the growth of new blood vessels that feed tumors, essentially to stop the spread of any cancer through the body. The drugs may have been a little ‘lighter,’ but they did affect him and his body, and of course his mind and emotions. He had symptoms, but as always – he didn't complain - to you, to his coworkers, or to his boss – he worked through it, he lived through it, he raised Maddy through it because if he did not, life would have gone on living without him through it and that would not do, it just wouldn't. The track we were on seemed to be a good one for the time being. We had a plan with Dr. Rapson and we felt good about it.

A true Avett fan! 

Unfortunately, that time was short lived. Though Jason’s PET Scans during and right after chemotherapy had shown good results, promising results even, the June scan was not in our favor. The results showed an increase in activity in his lung - again. Another day that will go down in our cancer history was when Jason called me, yet again on one of the final days of school. With tears in my eyes and a quiver in my voice, I had to let some good friends & co-workers know things were ‘just fine,’ because at that point I had no plan, we didn't anticipate this at all. Just an increase in activity and a bunch of ideas swirling in my head. if I started to speak, those ideas would become a weepy mess of tears and snot.

The activity increase wasn't a lot, but enough, of course. Just enough to be bugged about, to look into, to worry about, and yes, to treat. This time, that summer, the summer of 2011 – now two years from the initial diagnosis - Jason’s treatment was radiation.  So Jason began a six-week course of daily radiation therapy, which was said to be very effective. In fact, two PET scans later proved just that – activity in the lung was decreasing. All was right in our world and we were back on track ready to make plans - yet again.

Our family has a favorite band, as many of you know. Jason and I have seen The Avett Brothers in concert a number of times and we've even taken Maddy to one of their shows. Maddy and I share a favorite song on their most recent album called Live and Die. She never remembers the name of the song and instead calls it Track 2, its place on the album, which is perfect. Every time I hear this song, I consider how perfectly it aligns with my life. The Avett Brothers, unbeknownst to them (unless of course they've read all the stalker mail I've sent… just kidding… hee, hee… hee), have gotten me through a lot of emotional situations these last years; they are my go-to band for emotional rescue and that song is a great reminder of our journey and our growth.

On the surface & in the first lines the song reminds us, “all it'll take is just one moment, and you can say goodbye to how we had it planned.” The path Jason, Maddy, and I were on was far different than the one we originally planned and because of these deviations we could not control we've made some huge adjustments to our life plan. And we've learned a lot along the way - every time something new has been thrown our way, every time life has handed us a lemon – or a scan with increased activity, we've adjusted. More than anything we've learned a lot about each other, about other people, the human condition – and about how to survive by leaning on each other. And like the song continues to remind me, we always have each other. Just about the only thing that has gotten us through all of this, is to always come back to us, our center, to find one another, love one another and push through it – much like when Jason first popped the question way back when and we knew that it was just meant to be – our family, our friends and the people we love are about the only certain things we have in this uncertain world and so we know we must lean on each other during the most difficult times -

and these have been our most difficult times.

No matter what cancer throws at us, or life gives us. No matter which track we are on, we will always have each other.

The Cancer Club

At some point when Jason was going through the first round of chemotherapy, I met a woman whose husband had been battling cancer for five years. Five years, I thought, that is incredible. And at that time, I actually thought, Wow, I am so glad that Jason will be done after this round. So naïve. I had no idea what we were up against. The power cancer has over the body, and the mind.

Our little tumor, the one that had stowed away up in Jason’s lung for we don’t know how long had to be taken care of – the sooner the better. Dr. Rapson had allowed us the time to take our vacation (our biggest and only real vacation ever was just like Disney told us it would be – a Dream) and the little bugger had been biopsied. It was clear that the tumor was not new disease but the same old colon cancer nestling itself further into Jason’s body, so we were ready for the next steps – surgery. We were set up with a thoracic surgeon and we were ready to fight – again.

Surgery was scheduled for the end of August. Once again, Maddy and I were starting our school year with Jason under some sort of medical duress.  Just the year before Maddy had started preschool and a few weeks later Jason began chemotherapy. This year it would be her first year of kindergarten and her Daddy would be recovering from lung surgery. As a teacher, I know how the stress of a child’s home life can be a concern, so it was important for me to speak with her teacher about the happenings at home even though we, thankfully, had so much support for her. As I explained to her teacher and classroom aid the events of our life in the last year, I started out smooth, then blubbered through the tears in the last half of my account as they hugged me and let me know that they would be sure to tell me if Maddy acted strangely, seemed needy, or odd in any way. With all of our supports in place, were ready to get this show on the road!

First lung surgery, 2010. 

So we went. To surgery. One more time. Again our family, some friends, and our pastor, too, found ourselves huddled together in the hospital waiting room - praying, making small talk, pacing, shedding quiet tears -  after Jason was sent behind the scenes to have the lower left lobe of his lung resected in order for the malignant tumor and margins to be removed. Hours later he emerged, the carcinoma gone, but a chest tube attached to his body that wouldn't be removed for days as it would need to continue to drain fluids & aid in the healing process. And Jason in a lot of pain would continue to work toward healing for days. 

The challenges for Jason in the days ahead were many, most not even up to him to get over, but for his body to work through. The tube attached to his body and that followed his every move was not easy to maneuver, not easy to work with and sleeping was near impossible. At the same rate, he wanted to get home, so he worked hard to take his walks, work with the nurses and techs, and do what needed to be done to rebuild his health. After close to a week, the chest tube finally came out and he was released, even though his body held a slight fever earlier in the day. Little did we know, that fever was a sign, possibly one that said we should have stayed. Certainly a forewarning, we now know that for certain. 

In the days ahead there were some bright spots for Jason. Being home provided him with a few opportunities that he wouldn't have had if he’d been at work or in the hospital. The week ahead was Maddy’s very first day of kindergarten and he was able to be a part of that - he got to see her at her first day of school, off the bus and hear her stories all week – quite needed after a week in the hospital. But, as the week drew on, it became evident he wasn't feeling any better since his surgery, in fact he was worsening, every day. He had developed a cough, a deep pneumonia – like cough that was worrisome and he complained of a pain in his chest that simply wouldn't go away, no matter how much he tried. Worry set in for both of us that something had gone terribly wrong with Jason’s recovery.

Off the bus for the first time, 2010.

Finally, we decided to go to the ER late one evening. We sat there all night while they ran some tests, and was finally admitted into the hospital. Sure enough, something was wrong. And as the night wore on, Jason wilted. His health seemed to get worse as the minutes ticked on. In fact, he barely remembers the night at all. The time we spent in the ER, he was in and out of consciousness, and I was in and out of my mind. Jason’s lung, the one that was operated on less than a week before had a post-op complication - an abscess. At the time of admittance nobody would tell us, maybe they didn't know, what the abscess was -  just that he would need to undergo a second incision to drain it. Another surgery.

Eventually Jason perked from the fluids and the meds, some of his family gathered with me and we prepared ourselves for yet another round of prayer and meditation to get him through surgery. And we did. And he did. And here he was again with a chest tube in, constantly waiting for the meds to kick in & get the right pain medication balance, and hoping to get home so he could move on with his life. Unfortunately, this stint in the hospital was not as smooth as the first, if you could say the first lung surgery was smooth – his pain management was a disaster, requiring much more this time around given that this was his second surgery in less than a month, and also requiring a patient advocate to help with many issues that were endured. Our daughter, just five years old at the time, though very well taken care of with her grandparents and family friend was having a really hard time with us being gone and her daddy in the hospital again and we both were feeling saddened over it all. It was a terrible time for us.

Eventually the doctors let us in on the secret - Jason had two types of bacterial infections causing the abscess in his lung - Staphylococcus & Streptococcus, though how he got them we will never know. Due to the nature of the infections, he was immediately started on heavy antibiotics in the hospital and was required to continue the medications at home. After a week of pain and discomfort and Jason was finally discharged, a visiting nurse came to the house to administer the first doses and to show me how to manage the antibiotics intravenously through Jason’s port - one of the most nerve-wracking things I have ever done! So each day for two weeks I ran home after work to get there in time to get those IV antibiotics in his system in time. What a time that was, another blip in our cancer story for sure. 

First day of kindergarten, 2010. 

I had no idea when I heard about that woman and her husband where our story would take us, but never could I imagine it would be the chapter I just retold. Who could envision these painful details for themselves or their loved ones? Unfortunately, after five years of battling cancer, her husband lost his fight with cancer and boy do I ever think of them often - pray for both of them and wish it wasn't so. Cancer not only has a power over the body, but the mind as well and I know what they must have gone through in those years. Cancer patients and those that care for them belong to a unique club that nobody wants to be admitted into, and those that are in it understand each other and their adversities very well.  Unfortunately this club isn't one you apply to, one you don’t ever ask to be a part of and once you are in, you constantly pray that you are somehow one of the lucky ones, and for others in it, as well. Because prayers don’t run short in this club.

Unfortunately, our story still doesn't end here. Like that woman and her husband, our diagnosis was just the start of a long journey. And we are still praying to get out of this club.