So Hard

This post is a hard one for me to do.  Please bear with me as my thoughts are rambling and my emotions high.  This is deeply personal but is such a part of my life right now and will be for quite some time.  Here goes nothing....

About 3 weeks ago (it rather feels like an eternity) my sister, Becky, who was 32 weeks pregnant found  out she had a brain mass.  She had been having what we now know were mimi seizures, had an MRI, and the mass was discovered.  The doctors were pretty sure it was cancerous but of a less agressive variety. It was decided to wait a few weeks to try to get her baby boy a little more developed before performing a C-Section and then a brain biopsy.

Last week, Becky began having more frequent seizures and They decided to not mess around any longer.  This past Friday Becky had her beautiful baby boy, Caleb, at 34 weeks.  He is doing so well.  At this point he is working on eating all of his feedings himself rather than using a feeding tube.  He is so close and They are projecting that he will be able to go home perhaps the end of next week.  So amazing.

Just over 2 days later, Becky went in for yet another surgery, this time to get more information on what is going on in her brain.  The doctors were unable to remove any of the tumor due to its location, but they did remove a little piece of her brain that is associated with seizures, hoping to eliminate or reduce the number of seizures she has.  We also now know that though her cancer is considered "low grade" meaning it's not terribly aggressive, it is a grade III out of IV, meaning her prognosis really could go either way.  She's got a lot of work ahead of her, but we all know she can do it!  In the next few weeks when she's able to recover a bit more from her surgeries, she will begin an agressive treatment of radiation and chemo to try to shrink down her rather large tumor.

Though things seem bleak at times, there have been so many wonderful people and so many tender mercies from the Lord that have sustained us and strengthened Becky.  The love and concern from so many people--family, friends, and even total strangers--has been overwhelming.  The absolutely incredible neurosurgeons that have been on her team, the best of the best in the area, have been so kind and helpful.  The hospital staff in general have been amazing.  The nurses in NICU have taken such good care of Caleb and have completely fallen in love with Becky.  "We'll do anything for Becky," and they have.  Whether it's passing out Kleenex to us, giving us hugs, "bending" some rules in the care of Caleb so we could help more ("if that's what Becky wants, that's what we'll do"), praying for her, crying with us, or even coming in on their day off to be there for us (sweet, sweet Lonna), we have grown pretty attached to them.

I'm also so very grateful for the power of the priesthood and for the comfort and hope it brings.  I'm thankful for prayer, for the feelings of peace the Spirit brings.  I'm thankful for the words of the sweet hymns that come to my mind during the times when I start to panic.  "Be Still My Soul."  I'm thrilled that Becky is not at stage IV.  This is such a huge blessing.  I'm so grateful for the medical care and technologies we have in this day and age.  So grateful.

And I'm so grateful for the example Becky has been to me.  I've already warned my family that if I'm ever diagnosed with brain cancer, that I will NOT handle it as graciously as Becky has.  Not once have I heard her complain--not once.  I have never heard her say, "I can't do this" or "it's too hard, too much," or "it's not fair" or "why me?"  Maybe there are times she has felt this, I don't know how one couldn't, but it has not overcome her.  She remains her positive and selfless self, always worried about how everyone else is doing.  It's like my sister, Rachel, said, "I think she's handling this better than the rest of us."  Having said this, there may come a time when she emotionally crashes and burns and I don't want her to think I will think less of her.  Becky is a champ and if anyone can beat this, she can.  She's the most givingest (I made that up) person I know, but she is one tough cookie.  Oh how I love her!

I was able to get a last minute plane ticket so I could be there with my family during the brain surgery.  I got there a day early so I could spend some time with Becky before the big day.  It was so great to all be there as a family.  We took such strength and comfort from each other.  I also appreciated meeting the doctors and hearing what they had to say first hand.

One of the most difficult parts for me was seeing my sister after the surgery.  She was so brave.  Seeing her with her beautiful bald head, struggling with double vision, numbness in her face, weak right side of her body, trouble remembering and processing information, at times being in excruciating pain that made my own toes curl, and all the while recovering from her C-Section was just plain awful.  It's all just so much, and my heart broke into pieces watching her.  I just felt so helpless.  I still do.

It was so difficult leaving.  Though she's in better shape now (in fact, she'll probably be discharged tomorrow despite the seizures she's been having--gulp), she was still in pretty rough shape when I left.  I just wish I could stay by her side and help take care of her and her--now 3--children.  I worry so very much for my mother and youngest sister who will be around to do these things.  I worry about them running themselves into the ground.  I worry for her dear  husband who must just be beside himself with worry.  Poor man, running from ICU to NICU to check on his hurting family.  And I have guilt.  It's hard to carry on with my life, to go do fun things with my boys when I know there is so much sacrifice and suffering going on elsewhere.  I just wish I could be in two places at once.

So we take it one day at a time.  I have great hope that Becky will be around with us for many years to come.  I really do believe this.  She has a very difficult road still ahead of her, but I know she can do it. She will be strong, she will fight, she will adjust to the curve balls that are thrown at her, and she will do it all with a smile on her face, worrying about the rest of us as we continue this journey.  

A word of warning.  If I seem distracted in conversation, you'll know where my mind is.  If it looks like I've been crying it's because I probably have been.  If you say or do something that is thoughtful or nice, the waterworks may start flowing.  Just so you know.  :)

Little  Caleb has quite the healing powers.
Whenever we needed a pick-me-up, we'd head over to see
this bundle of cuteness.

Sister Power

So much waiting.  Why are hospitals so darn cold? 

Lonna, our all-time favorite nurse with Eden and Micah,
oh, and Caleb of course.

This was all I could do most of the time.
Not nearly enough, but I was so thankful to be close to her.

This is my most favorite picture and one that I hold onto
when I'm sick with worry.  This is the first time
Rebecca got to hold Caleb after her surgery.
The look on Beck's face is priceless.
Healing power, I'm telling you.