Moving On...

I have spent some time away from this place...I think we all needed some distance from medical jargon and life with cancer. But, I have to share the good news that just last week, Parrish got another clean bill of health report...a clear scan and perfect blood work. I can't tell you the anxiety that those checkups bring or the incredible relief that we feel after such good news. An answer to so many prayers.

We've spent the last few months doing a lot of living and laughing and well, truth be told, soul searching. After lots of talking and praying and wishing and waffling, we have decided to leave our beloved Birmingham and return home to Memphis. The big move comes at the end of this month. There is so much to write about the move and where we are headed and what we will be doing. And, there will be a time and place for that, although, probably not on this blog, which for now, I hope to leave as a reminder of that year with cancer. Going forward, you can follow me here...this is a new (and scary? exciting? crazy?) project for me. 

As always, we thank all of you for the love, support and prayers that you have shown us--and continue to show us. We'll keep you posted on our new adventures!

Much love,

Molly

One Year Ago Today...

A year ago today, Parrish was diagnosed with a recurrence of Hodgkin's lymphoma, eighteen years after his initial diagnosis. A year ago today, I got a call from Parrish that I needed to come meet him at his internist's office...and then he clarified that I should go to the ER and gave me his room number. My mind was running in a million different directions, but whatever it was, I knew it couldn't be good. And, of course, it wasn't.

In my gut, I knew something had been wrong for a while. In fact, I had told Parrish the night before that I was worried about him. My exact words were "I am not sure what is going on, but you just don't seem yourself. I don't know if you are depressed, if you have cancer, or if you have a second family somewhere and just can't figure out how to tell me." I will admit that when I was sitting in the waiting room during his chest surgery, I really, really wished it had been a second family. Sick, right?

This past year has been awful, and much to some folks' dismay, I haven't sugar-coated things on the blog. Surgery, a chest tube, chemo treatments, septic shock, a bone marrow transplant. And, really, those are just the big things. The last year has brought us to our knees, tested us, broken us, strengthened us, made us realize what really matters and what we want to really matter. And, slowly but surely, we are putting our lives back together, lives that look different than they did a year ago and in some ways, are fuller and richer than they were pre-cancer.   

On Monday of this week, I was in an extremely reflective state of mind. It has been a rough couple of months for a variety of reasons, and because of that, I was thinking back to this time last year with such raw emotion (and if I am honest, a little self pity). Then, on Tuesday, our city was hit with a very unexpected snow storm (just how unexpected depends on who you ask), and any sort of self-reflection was tossed to the side. To say the snow storm crippled our city is an understatement. Children were stranded at schools and daycares because parents could not reach them. Drivers were stuck on interstates and city roads for hours and hours, most finally abandoning their cars in the utter gridlock and walking to the nearest shelter. Emergency vehicles could not get to those in need because of the standstill traffic. It was a complete nightmare. I was in the middle of it and frantic because I could not get to Ivey's school that had closed. Campbell was safe at home with our nanny, but Ivey was stuck at school. In theory, I knew Ivey was safe, and the school would take wonderful care of him. But, the helplessness I felt was almost unbearable. After two long hours, I finally got to Ivey (this trip usually takes 7 minutes), and we began a very long, three hour adventure home (a distance of 3 miles). Of course, we were the lucky ones because we actually got home, and it didn't involve a long walk in the ice and snow (although it almost came to that).

What has amazed me most the last few days is the same thing that amazed me at every turn last year. And, that is kindness. Around the city on Tuesday, people opened their doors, taking in those stranded on the side of the road and unable to get home. And, it wasn't just churches or civic centers. Regular people reached out to those in need.  A family friend took in complete strangers left stranded on a major thoroughfare in front of her condo, and as of today, she still has some of them there. Others saw immediate needs and found a way to fix them. Outside a Home Depot store, employees passed out bottles of water and snacks to those stuck on the roads. Another friend took his four-wheeler and picked up stranded pregnant women and others in medical need to get them to the nearest hospital. During my five hour trek, I can't even count how many people reached out--in complete kindness--to help us navigate the insanity. A few folks were directing cars up a hill covered in ice and stopped oncoming cars so that we didn't have to stop on the hill and risk getting stuck. Another man was walking stopped car to stopped car, offering people a warm house, food and water if the traffic never moved. He asked me if Ivey needed something to drink, a blanket or a pitstop, reminiscing about when his children were that age. One guy and I made friends on the road, after realizing we were headed in the same direction, and we made a plan for the best route home. At one point, once we realized we had hit an impasse, he got out of his truck in the ice and snow just to make sure we were okay. He offered to walk with us the rest of the way if it came to that. (Clearly he didn't think I would get very far in three inch heels carrying a four year old!)

I saw the same sort of kindness this time last year--and for the many months that followed. I am still stunned by the people who reached out and in so many ways. Family and friends, to be sure, but also those not so close to the situation, and sometimes, complete strangers who wanted absolutely nothing in return. I feel privileged to have witnessed this sort kindness--to have been a recipient of it--for the past year and for the past few days. It makes me pause, though, and wonder why it takes crisis for us to show such kindness. Just think if we practiced this sort of kindness all the time, and not just under the worst of times. What if we cut each other some slack, gave each other the benefit of the doubt, and just reached across the table or the yard or the office or the playground or the Internet with nothing but kindness, expecting nothing in return. 

I had a conversation with Ivey's teacher at school a couple months ago. I was just checking in on Ivey, and I told her that I really don't care if Ivey is the smartest, the coolest, the fastest, the most athletic or the most popular. What I really want is for Ivey to be the kindest. I'm sure she thought I was nuts, but I really mean it. I have seen the power of kindness the past twelve months, and I can only hope that my children learn to wield that sort of power each and every day--making people feel cared for, listened to and loved.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to all of you out there who showed us so much kindness this past year. We felt your love, your words, your prayers, your sustenance, and your encouragement each and every day. We could not have made it through this year without you. And so, in remembrance of all of your kindness, I am trying each and every day to pay it forward to those around me.

Much love,

Molly

**And, for those of you who only come here for the pictures (these go back to December)...

Our annual Christmas movie night!

Santa and his Snowman...

True to form, my parents, thinking we all needed to end the year on a high note, whisked us all on a beach get-away for Christmas...it was just what the doctor ordered. We had a very merry Christmas! Thank you, Emme and Guh!!

Beach bound (and impressed with in-flight movies)!

My little beach baby!

A boat ride with Guh makes for a happy Ivey.

My boys love the beach...and the sand...and the ocean...and the sand castles...

Exploring.

Beach bums...literally.

Santa and his Elf surprised us for s'mores one night. 

Campbell is teaching Margaret his dance moves.

Everyone thought they were twins...

Not sure who likes the beach more!

A chilly day couldn't keep us off the beach.

Trying to catch sea creatures!

Leading the charge to the ocean!

If you didn't hold his hand, he ran head first into the ocean. No fear.

I love seeing that smile!

We attempted several family photos on Christmas night...these were the best ones. No, seriously.

I mean, you have to laugh, right?!

Yep, we had matching t-shirts...

A wind-blown family photo op!

So thrilled with Snowmageddon!

My three boys. 

Running off some energy.

Ice skating on New Year's Day!

And what's a post without Alabama propaganda!

Thank-Full

How to describe the array of emotions this week...such breathtaking gratefulness. Today was filled with lots of those low-key, magical family moments...parade watching in pajamas, football throwing, s'mores making and turkey leg eating. It ended with a Thanksgiving dinner with some of our nearest and dearest...leaving us with full tummies and hearts. Happy, happy Thanksgiving to all!

100 Days

Our Superman. Yes, doctor--that's a beer in his hand.

Parrish hit the 100 days post-transplant mark this week. Honestly, it came and went without a lot of fanfare. We went to church, played at the park, made s'mores at a neighborhood party and wrestled two tired little boys into bed...it was just a normal day. And, really, "normal" was the perfect way to celebrate getting to this milestone.

Although Parrish has not technically been discharged back to his oncologist yet, that doctor seems to have taken the lead. In a matter of 24 hours, the oncologist had a PET scan scheduled, had responded to multiple emails and was in charge.* Ahhhh...I think I just unclenched my jaw. 

It has been a long 100 days. Well, let's get real, it's been a loooonnngggg 9 months. We have struggled more, hurt more, pushed more and grown more than I ever thought possible. I wouldn't wish this kind of year on my worst enemy. At the same time, we have been loved more, cared for more, and prayed over more than I ever could have imagined. For a lot of this year, I have had to keep my head down, barreling through it the best way I could, trying desperately not to let the pieces of our lives crumble around us. As caregiver and chief cheerleader for Parrish and mother and chief protector of Ivey and Campbell, I know I made a lot of mistakes along the way. I didn't do exactly what I should have; I didn't care for those outside the four walls of our house in the ways they needed; I let others' milestones pass by without acknowledgement; I dropped balls at work and in the world and perhaps never even realized. Trust me, I recognize my many failures along the way much more than anyone else. 

Throughout these last 9 months, though, friends, family and complete strangers picked up those dropped balls (and didn't find the need to remind me of just what I failed to do); friends and family made our milestones huge priorities (without pointing out that I had missed theirs).  Friends, family and complete strangers have shown up--each and every day--these last 9 months in unimaginable ways.  I can't tell you the number of phone calls, emails, texts, prayers, cards, food (immense amounts of food), visits, and acts of extreme kindness my family has been privileged enough to receive. I have so many stories to share, so much thanks to give. I won't ever be able to write enough thank you notes (yes, I am giving this one up). Instead of staying up all night for the next 12 years trying to write notes to express just how thankful I am, I have decided to take what all of you have shown me this year and pay it forward. I am just going to show up.

I'll be honest, I don't think I have shown up enough in the past for those in need. All blog evidence to the contrary, I am actually a very introverted, private person. I am totally comfortable praying for those who need it in the comfort of my own home (or car or shower). I think about and feel for friends, family and complete strangers all the time. I just don't think I have let them know that enough. I have worried that someone might think it was weird if I wrote a note that I was thinking about them during a rough time...they might be uncomfortable if I showed up to wait with them during a family member's surgery...they would wonder why on earth I was dropping off food when we weren't really that close. Despite feeling like I was walking along with folks through a lot of their journeys, I haven't wanted to intrude. I have learned, though, that showing up isn't intrusive. In the middle of pain and suffering, those in need cannot articulate what their needs even are. Showing up, with the smallest of gestures or simplest of words, is sometimes the only thing that gets someone in need through a day, an hour, a moment. So, going forward, I am going to show up with words and prayers and acts...and a whole lot of food.

I am also going to show up here more. Although I have been absent from this space lately, I want to continue writing. These months have forced me back into a writing rhythm that I haven't had in a while, and it feels good. I might be showing up in a different virtual spot (one less medically driven I hope!), so stay tuned for that.

Happy November to everyone...and happy 100 days to Parrish. Here's to many more normal days ahead!

Love,

Molly   

*Weekend Update: Parrish's oncologist called over the weekend with the scan report. Drum roll please! Parrish's PET scan came back completely clear...even the spot in his lung is gone. The oncologist said "I told you so...just some sort of inflammation." He loved getting to say "I told you so," and we loved the amazing report. Thank goodness we did not subject Parrish to an unnecessary surgical procedure (our gut instinct was right!). Such an answer to prayers!

Radio Silence

I think my lack of blogging is starting to freak some people out. Part of it is just that the rigors of life have gotten in the way (things like a full time job, two young kids, the month-long Halloween celebrations…you get the picture). Part of it is also just sheer exhaustion with where we are on this cancer/transplant roller coaster. While it is true that Parrish is doing better and in some ways getting back to normal, there is still a long way to go. The boys and I see that more than anyone else does. It is true what they say--that it takes a full year to recover from a transplant. It is hard to comprehend that until you are in the middle of it, though. My radio silence is a sign that I just can’t spin where we are right now. 

It has been a long month. Parrish’s scan from a couple weeks ago didn’t give any answers or insight into the spot on his lung. So, the BMT team would like to proceed with the surgical biopsy. They were supposed to call last week to schedule that. Of course, they didn’t. Parrish is so close to the 100 day mark (November 3^rd), that I am inclined to wait until he is discharged back to his oncologist to deal with the spot. Parrish will be due for another PET scan at that point, and I think that the oncologist is the right person to handle this from here on out. I also think that this might just be part of it right now. Parrish is going to have weird spots—and they could be for a variety of reasons—scar tissue, chemo side effects, infection. They could also just be spots that show up in people all the time and "regular people" never know about them. But, because Parrish is getting these full body scans, we see them…and are hyper-sensitive to them. I also think that the fatigue, nausea, vomiting, swelling, colds, coughs and more…well, that is just all part of the recovery process. These symptoms aren’t going to go away overnight (or even in a few months). Even though it feels like it has been forever, Parrish is still in the early stages of transplant recovery. It is easy to lose sight of that. And at the same time, it is hard not to get impatient with the healing process or the setbacks.

Let’s be honest. We are all getting sick of our new reality. And, the stress is taking its toll. Case in point--I have been diagnosed with a pretty bad case of TMJ (the oral surgeon thinks that I am clenching my jaw while I sleep at night). It is bad enough that my upper and lower jaws are shifting, causing a lot of pain and changes in my teeth. I mean come on…does it always have to be something relating to my face...first a bum eye, now a bum mouth?! In addition to medicine and a night guard, the doctor also put me on a liquid diet for 8 weeks. After about 10 days, I have taken myself off of the medicine (which made me crazy) and have taken a step back from the strictly liquid diet. No food and weird drugs made for a rather unstable, extremely hungry Molly. Not exactly what any of us needs right now. The oral surgeon said he would normally tell people with this problem to de-stress their lives, but he decided there was just no hope of that for me. It will all be fine (especially now that I am not starving). But, needless to say, all of us could use a reprieve. I mean, surely we’ve hit our limit on pain, suffering and learning life lessons from trying times. (See, maybe radio silence is better than brutal honesty.)

Don't get me wrong, there is so much to be thankful for. So much. And, that is what I try to focus on. Parrish is doing better...there doesn't seem to be much change day to day, but when I compare him now to three weeks ago, he is definitely better. That gives me hope. And, the boys both seem to be getting their spirits back. Campbell is about the cutest thing ever (not that I am biased). And, there is a spring in Ivey's step and a twinkle in his eye that just wasn't there five months ago. In fact, we had family pictures made recently and our dear photographer commented on Ivey's "amazing laugh." I paused, realizing that it was amazing...his deep, infectious, uncontrollable laugh was back. That gives me hope. And, the boys absolutely love our new (albeit, temporary) neighborhood. Watching them run back and forth to friends' yards and thrive in our new house, that gives me hope. 

As the pictures below show, October has been busy (and we haven't even made it to Halloween yet). In the midst of it all, and despite the ever-present stress, I am trying to hold on to the moments, celebrate the small things (or steps in the right direction) and worry less about the big picture items that despite all my trying, I just can't fix. 

Happy fall, y'all!

Love,

Molly

We've had visitors!

A cousin train ride!

Celebrating Daddy's birthday!

Love this smile.

Cherishing these moments.

Cool dudes at the pumpkin patch.

On the hay ride!

Our search for the best pumpkin...

Campbell found one!

Ivey found a bigger one!

Playing music at the art show in Northport.

Playground fun!

Ivey's first Bama game...best day ever (his words).

So close he could almost touch Coach Saban and Big Al!