Our Break

We took a break from Cancer for a while. It was a welcome reprieve. Jace has felt so great lately I didn’t want to jinx it by saying it out loud or writing about it. Maybe I shouldn’t admit this, but we actually took a break from many things for the last month (including this blog), so now we still get to decorate our tree…put up Christmas lights…and try to get Christmas cards together in the next week. We probably need to shop a bit too, but luckily nobody at our house is stressed about it. It’s incredible how our priorities have changed. An hour ago, when Jace was sitting on my lap, I put my cheek against his, and he told me I am a good mom.  I wrapped my arms around him, felt his warmth, smelled his hair (do other moms do this?), and smiled a real smile.  He’s so amazing. He was on my lap, because he had a big morning. Another chemo treatment…and another lumbar puncture.  I’ll let the pics from the last two treatments tell his story, since I ought to think about being responsible again. Wish me luck on the Christmas Cards… :)

(The night before his haircut.)

(Primary Children's Hospital November 15)

 (Getting ready for chemo December 14)

And.....Still Smiling.  Gotta love this kid!

Eight Years Old!

Last year I couldn't think of anything more wonderful than Jace turning 8 years old! We just had to make it through the year. We had to make it to his next birthday. Now it has happened, and I am realizing how quickly time is passing. One of the more common expressions I use on both boys (in my best, yearning mother's voice) is, “STOP GROWING!” I try to cuddle them daily, and pull them into me for extended hugs...but they always pull away too quickly. My oh-so-tough little men are determined to one day be bigger than me. I tease them and say, “No more milk! And definitely no more veggies or anything with vitamins in it! Only junk food for you!” They just giggle at me, and wonder about my sanity. “Mom,” Jace says very matter-of-factly, “We can't stop growing.”

True.

Last week Hayden had to make a poster featuring the “Leatham Culture.” I asked him what he thought that meant. He replied by saying, “You know, like how our family is always playing sports- and how we go to church...how we spend lots of time in the mountains and with family, and how we love to eat Hawaiian Pizza...or Jimmy John's sandwiches.” I thought to myself, well, I guess he does “get it.” Then, when he actually put his poster together, he added that as a family we “fight cancer.” Jace saw the poster and exclaimed a little bashfully, “Why did you put that?” I reminded him that we DO fight cancer. "True that!” he annoyingly replied. “And we ARE pretty good at it.” For a lot of Jace's early life I wondered what I was going to do with his energy and spunk. Now I understand why he was born with attitude.
Jace is also sporting the longest hair he's EVER had in his life. In so many ways I have mixed emotions about cutting it or letting it grow. Everyone comments on his chemo “shag” and his blond curls (new since chemo). It honestly looks like he's highlighted his hair. Although he IS adorable with his hollywood hairdo, it's coming off next week. The chemo hair on the ends is pretty dry and hard to comb, and Jace is finally ready to lose the locks. He has a big day coming too, and he's so excited. On November 13th, Jace gets to be BAPTIZED and Confirmed a Member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

Please join us for his special day if you can. If you want details on when and where, call us (208-356-3042). We will be eating after his confirmation, and our family would LOVE for ANY and ALL friends and family to join us.

Cheers to celebrating the 8th year with our amazing, cancer fighting Jace!

Chemo again on the 15th.

Less than two years of chemo left.

We can do it.

Hellooooo?

Thursday morning as I zipped Jace’s jacket at the front door while he watched for the bus, I reminded him softly that I would pick him up for chemo after school. His jaw dropped, and he went silent for a second.

“Today?” he questioned as his bottom lip quivered, and his eyes filled with tears.

“Yes honey. Today,” I replied, fighting my own emotion. I decided right then we need help! We need to learn to celebrate chemotherapy.  I’ve heard of people dressing in a particular color on chemo days…but I’m really at a loss for any other ideas…and I’m not sure wearing a specific color would make a chemo day  better for Jace. Come on friends…any thoughts? I need some fun ideas. Can anyone think of anything??

Luckily, Doctor H, Linda, Leslie, and Becky (our fabulous nurses!) and all the other staff at the Doctor’s Office saved the day this time by spoiling Jace as usual. At least he looks forward to seeing his “other family” at Teton Oncology. I even have proof of how much he gets spoiled:

(Thanks Linda and everyone. We sure love you.)

Chemo went fine, but I know WHY Jace’s lip quivered when he realized he had chemo that day...he has been sick to his stomach in the mornings since his treatment, his back hurts, he's weak and tired, yet he can't sleep, and he’s had a headache. In other words, he KNOWS now what chemo does. He really hates feeling sick, but one cool thing about Jace is if you ask him how he’s doing, he’ll always say fine. 

I just asked him why he always replies that he's "fine" when I know he feels yucky.  He replied, "Because I AM fine, mom. Helloooooo?" 

Round Two

To briefly update those of you who might be reading, we left the hospital Friday morning, with plans to return again Saturday for another round of antibiotics. After a pretty mellow Friday, Jace felt better by that night, and was able to attend Hayden's football game Saturday morning. WHAT a beautiful day! Jace's temperature was down a bit, Hayden played TOUGH as usual, and we didn't go back to the hospital until late afternoon.  As we walked out of Madison Memorial after Jace received round two of the antibiotic, I said to Matt, "I think that may  have been the most pleasant experience we've had at the hospital yet." He agreed by saying, "It's getting easier, isn't it?" Thank you Nurses Tammy and Denise (and Karen from Friday). We appreciate you!

 

Fevers

Oh the JOY of cancer. It's 3:45 AM, and we are in the ER. Jace's fever started rising about 9 PM, so we watched it for a while, and at 101.4 we forced ourselves to call his doctor. We really hated waking the good Doc at 1 AM, but when Jace couldn't sleep anymore for his cough and aches, we knew it was the right thing to do.  They just took chest x-rays and blood...and he's receiving a bag of fluids and antibiotics. We'll know more in a while.

In the meantime, here we are. Jace was so mad at us for taking his temperature over and over again because he doesn't WANT to be sick, but by the time we arrived at the hospital, he was too tired to fight us. I would cuss fevers except that his fever a year ago helped us find his cancer...so ...technically we should be grateful for the sign that something is wrong. I'm working on my "we are thankful for this fever!" face. This fever helped him get the antibiotic he needs to fight whatever his body is fighting. It's a good thing nobody's going to *see* my "thankful for fevers face" for a few hours, though.  I need to perfect the conviction. :)

No Matter What

Cancer dialogue is different than regular verbiage. Gone are the days when I mindlessly used blanket phrases of comfort on someone like, “It’s going to be ok.” You can bet when I look into the eyes of someone with cancer now, I really think about the words I speak. Because there are so many kinds of cancer, and so many different stages and outcomes, the results of treatments are NOT the same for any two people. It’s very difficult to assure someone who has just been diagnosed- that “Everything will be fine.” Everyone has their own interpretation too. In the beginning stages of Jace’s cancer, when someone would say “It’s going to be ok” to me, I would think in my mind, “You don’t know that.” People would say to me, “Hang in there,” and I would bitterly think, “Hang in where?” …Because “OK” to me meant that Jace would miraculously be found cancer free…or he wouldn’t have to suffer…EVER. In my ignorance, my faith was based on the outcome *I* thought should come to pass. Maybe I shouldn’t admit to my gloomy thought process, but I’m being honest when I explain that I’ve learned a few things over the months about what comes out of my mouth and what I think in my mind. I’ve also had to repent that I didn’t have more faith in the Atonement and more hope for the PEACE it offers on this earth. In other words, I forgot to see the BIG picture- and I failed to see that life on this earth is just a small portion of the eternal realm.


The reality is, my faith has been tested, and I’ve been blessed with the testimony that everything IS going to be ok, NO MATTER WHAT. I have such a firm resolve that if we add that phrase to the end of every phrase of hope, we can allow the Savior to take over and make everything “OK.”

Jace only missed 4 and 1/2 days of school with chemo this time, and he is mostly enjoying regular life as a 7 year old. His legs aren’t quite as fast as he plays flag football, and his “juke” isn’t quite the same as it used to be, but we’ll take it! I silently said a prayer of thanks at his game last night, that Jace was on the field and doing something he loved. It didn't matter that we lost in OT, and it didn't matter that he missed a few flags. Jace was running, and that was huge. He was also smiling, with a head FULL of hair! It's funny how priorities change, right?

We’ve given away a few more cancer bags, which means we’ve made more friends who are fighting cancer. I find myself adding names to my personal prayers daily, and I feel so close to families dealing with the ugly disease. I get to donate blood today after school, and when Jace found out he said, “Mom! Are you going to be ok?” I think he remembers from the last time I donated, my pale skin, blue lips, and shaky hands! ha!  I told him if he can fight cancer, I can at least give up a little blood. He smiled and patted my hand. "I'll go with you," he said. I sure love that kid.

Besides, I can't worry.  Because, it WILL be ok…NO MATTER WHAT!:)

Training With Weights

Yep. It's that time again. In his dad's arms, my cute Jace is sleeping right now with a cold sweat and  body aches. Our Iron Man was under general anesthesia Wednesday morning by 7 AM to receive his Lumbar Puncture. [As a review, this means he received a chemo treatment into the spinal fluid (administered through his back), to reach the brain]. After his LP, we proceeded to Teton Oncology for him to receive the rest of his IV chemo through his port. We learned there that his WBC number is somewhat low; which I've come to learn means his daily oral chemo is just doing it's job. It's difficult for my heart not to freak out when I see the lab results and everything is flagged as L (low) or LL (really low!). But my brain (once in a while) kicks in and says, "It's ok Amy! This is what chemo is suppose to do!"  I'm just waiting for someone to invent chemo that only kills bad cells and not the good ones too. (Calling all brainiacs!)

Since Jace has been running around and appearing NOT sick, the common comment we hear (almost daily) is, "He's finished with treatments, right?"  We also hear, "If he's in remission, then why does he still have chemo treatments?" Because of the nature of Leukemia, he actually won't finish his chemotherapy for two more years. That's right, party people! We are all looking forward to the gathering we'll have in the fall of 2012 to celebrate "NO MO CHEMO!" right?? It's such a beautiful thought to be finished with chemo, that sometimes even *I* can push away the dreaded fear of Jace's cancer returning when the chemo stops...I'm actually not even going to go there tonight...because... Although Jace had to endure poison being pumped into his body, we were able to personally place TWO cancer bags that same day, and we are praying for our two new friends McKenzie and Dean.

I LOVED something Dr. Hancock said also. He explained that Jace will get so used to having low numbers, that it's like training with weights. In two years, when the chemo is finished (we hope forever!), the weights will be lifted, and he'll be stronger and faster than he ever thought possible. Sooo, training with weights is an interesting concept to me. Training AT ALL is sometimes a hardship. Who is with me on this one?? I can barely manage the 5 lb. trials that are thrown at me, let alone the hefty 50s or 100s.  As I watched Jace wake up so sick this morning, I wondered how I could just take his weights for an hour or two, so he could continue to sleep and not feel the nausea and discomfort chemo brings. But, we all know the truth; Jace wouldn't let me if I could. This Iron Man is training for something BIG!

Oh, and you might smile to know what Jace requested  for breakfast:  None other than....Olives.:) 

A NEW YEAR!

This morning was AMAZING. With the help of an incredible family and loving friends, we turned the anniversary of Jace’s diagnosis into a BEAUTIFUL DAY. Supplies came pouring in, and assembly line style we produced 15 bags to give to new cancer patients- similar to the one we received from a parent at Primary Children’s Hospital one year ago. THANK YOU everyone who supported this event and donated time and/or money. We NEVER could have done this without ALL of you.

The words to a favorite hymn keep running through my mind and taking me back to that place one year ago, when we didn’t know what the future brought for our incredible Jace!

“Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,

For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.

I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,

Upheld by my righteous omnipotent hand.”

(September 13 or 14, 2009

 with 95% cancerous blood)

“When through the deep waters I call thee to go,

The rivers of sorrow shall not thee o’erflow

For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,

And sanctify to thee, the deepest distress.”

(In remission September 10, 2010

READY for two more years of chemotherapy)

Our rivers of sorrow have been replaced with rivers of gratitude today, and my heart is warm thinking of the goodness we have seen in others for the last year. From members of our families reaching out in small ways- to friends attending us; and even strangers becoming dear loved ones, we have grown and loved in ways unknown to us "pre-cancer." Thank you everyone for staying with us! It's been a year, and we still feel your love.

Jace and his cancer bud, Mark Steiner also wrote letters to put into the bags, and I took a picture of Jace’s letter. I think it's a perfect way to end this post and this year of cancer!

"Hope Now"

I can’t sleep this morning. My brain won’t stop. So many things are swirling around in it including the juggling act school has added to our world, and the “Cancer Service Project” we are doing on Saturday. Jace also has chemo next week, including an LP with general anesthesia. In addition to these details, I can’t believe it’s been A YEAR since our world changed. So, now because I can’t sleep, I’ve been reminiscing by reading the blog posts from last September, and for the first time, in a long time, I’m letting those blasted tears fall again. I’ve told some of you this, but until this summer, I couldn’t read BACK even one blog entry. The reality of Jace’s illness wouldn’t allow my heart to even think about yesterday. I had to look ahead- move ahead- survive the day…or the hour, whichever it took. But this morning I’ve been reading. Here are a few excerpts from the first posts in our cancer journey:


“Friday morning (9-11-09) Matt went to work, and I stayed home with Jace. Around 10 AM Jace decided he wanted to bath. Normally he spends an hour in the bath if I let him, and after three songs on his Primary CD, he was ready to get out. He was shaky and he had to sit down, wrapped in his blanket, on the toilet. He said, I’m so dizzy mom. I helped him comb his hair and brush his teeth, and I had to carry him back to the couch. He said he heard a hissing in his ears. He even said, “I don’t want to die, mom.” Kneeling in front of him I assured him he wasn’t going to die…”


“…I’m just looking at his file right now. I think you better bring him in again.” 

 “…We are driving to Salt Lake now. It is 8:03 PM. Matt and I take turns crying. Everyone is calling. Hayden has a scared look in his eyes, and Jace is finally asleep. He’s had blood drawn 5 times in the last 60 hours. He cried worse every time. The last time at 4:15, Matt and I were both crying with him…”

  “…Primary Children's Hospital: We are checked in, and it's not just a giant nightmare. It's almost 2 AM and they just came in after looking at the latest blood draw and said Jace needs more blood. His red blood cells aren't carrying enough oxygen to his major organs, and his heart rate is too high. They just took more blood, and they should have a positive match within a couple of hours. Jace is being such a sweetheart; when he saw my dripping tears while I listened to the doctor, he started rubbing my back…”

“…If you are reading this, please pray for Jace. Whatever form of positive faith and energy you can send our way will not go unrecognized.”

Wow, right? Did we really live through that??

I have a new favorite song.
It's called, "Hope Now" by Addison Road.
Some of the lyrics state:

If everything comes down to love,

Then just what am I afraid of?

When I call out Your name,

Something inside awakes in my soul

How quickly I forget I am Yours.

I am not my own.

I’ve been carried by You,

All my life.

Everything rides on HOPE now.

Everything rides on FAITH somehow.

When the world has broken me down.

Your love sets me Free...

The truth is, for the last entire year we HAVE been carried by our loving Heavenly Father and our Savior Jesus Christ. Thank you all for your continued prayers and support. Everything truly does ride on HOPE and FAITH now, and I am so grateful for these blessings in our lives.

So although this morning I’ve been a little tearful, I have to admit it feels really great to say ADIOS to the last year…to fear…and sadness… I am full of HOPE for the future and an undying FAITH in an atoning Redeemer.

We are moving on, CANCER! …and we’d prefer it if you DON’T follow us!

Two years of chemo left.
We can do it.

ONE YEAR Project

It's almost been one year....so stay tuned for a better post...but in the meantime, if you'd like to join our family with a small "project," check out my personal blog for information:  amyleighleatham.blogspot.com

First Day of School

Jace SPRINTED to the bus on the first day of school...without even looking back. I kept waiting for him to turn and wave...ha...but he didn't! I guess after listening to the bus come and go for an entire school year...he wasn't going to miss that baby!:) He LOVED his first day of school, and even his second day, but Thursday night he crashed at 5:30 PM to sleep ALL night. Friday morning was a little rough, but when I reminded him of all the mornings he stayed home last year, he quickly dressed and found his backpack. He was GOING to school! These are first day of school pics:

This family photo was taken right after Hayden's first game. He played AWESOME! Football season signals a COMPLETE CIRCLE for our family this year, because if you'll remember, Jace was diagnosed with his Leukemia last year a few days after one of his flag football games! I remember sitting in the hospital on September 11th in complete shock that my little Jace had just run the width of a football field to score a touchdown...with 95% cancerous blood! Crazy stuff. WOW, I sure wouldn't trade places with me- then. I'm actually really shocked after the last year, that I'm still (mostly) mentally stable!:) 

As a family we also attended Madison High School's football game Friday night (Go Cats!), and as I watched Jace run up and down the stadium stairs, I couldn't help but remember last fall when Jace was too sick to pick his head up off the pillow. I'm not sure what the future will bring, but this week I am so grateful for our football loving- school attending boys...even when they sprint to get away from me...HA...and they don't look back over their shoulder to wave at their tearful, mess of a mom.

1,000 Books! Woo Hoo!

My night owl just finished his 1,000th book. Nothing like waiting until the last minute, right? He wanted to finish his goal before school starts, and he did it with nine hours left! He also scored a touchdown tonight in his flag football game, so you’ll believe me when I say that his chemo treatment last week was handled with the courage and fortitude of a true IRON MAN! I’ll post some “first day of school pics” later this week, but I just couldn’t wait to report that Jace is doing amazing.

(getting chemo in his port)

(running it in in for a touchdown!)

Our modern miracle- and the hero of our hearts-- gets to climb on the bus in the morning and go to school with his cousins and friends, and his last year’s backpack that he didn’t get to use. He is sooo excited. He’s sitting next to me with wide eyes right now...showing no hope of sleep…much like it’s Christmas EVE.

I’ve got the hand sanitizer and disinfectant wipes in his back pack, and he’s been drilled about washing hands…and cleansing his desk periodically. A few minutes ago I felt his forehead and he felt hot. He saw the look in my eyes, and he immediately piped up, “I’M OK MOM!” ...and he is...but I'm not sure I am!

Guess what everybody!?? Jace is going to school…

Warriors

Over time, hundreds of warriors have made their mark in history- the greatest warriors have become immortal as a result of the great victories they achieved; their bravery, perseverance, and determination have written the stories of their battles and their names on the sands of time.

But, what is the real definition of a WARRIOR? How is an enemy defined, and what types of battles classify a warrior? These questions came to me as I was watching the movie “Letters to God.” This movie is about a little boy fighting cancer, but we had NO IDEA how emotional it would make our entire family when we rented it from a Redbox two days ago. I don’t think a movie has EVER hit so close to home as this one, as there were multiple scenes from it that could have been our family! Sometimes I would look at the screen and have to blink my eyes because I thought the bald boy facing us was Jace. AND, I’ll tell you honestly, I am SO glad we didn’t accidently rent this six months ago. It is that tender.

The thing that really struck me though, is that concept of being a warrior. At one point in the movie, there was a little boy making fun of Tyler, the child with cancer. Tyler goes to a Grandfather for advice. The Grandfather tells him that the others are jealous of him. This is unbelievable to Tyler. He says sarcastically, “Jealous because my hair fell out???”

The Grandfather answers: “They are jealous because you’ve been chosen for the role of a lifetime. You’ve been hand-picked by God….God has chosen you to be one of HIS warriors. As one of God’s warriors, you can ride forth victoriously in truth, humility, and righteousness.”

As I watched this scene in the movie, my new epiphany pounded in my chest. The Grandfather was right! He continued as if he were talking to Jace: “Even though you are sick, when people see how strong and brave you are, it makes them take a look at their own lives... There is a glorious truth. God is truth, and it is your job to point them to Him, and if they turn to Him, they find the truth. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful victory?”

I looked over at Jace during the movie to see what he thought. Does he know he’s a warrior? Does he know this is the role of a lifetime?? I found it interesting that he was the only one in the room NOT crying! It made me smile. He’s so tough. People have asked me over the course of his treatment if Jace realizes what’s really going on. I think he does, but I often pray the lessons we’ve all learned from this trial of cancer don’t pass over Jace himself- because he’s so young…will he really remember??

Hayden on the other hand was emotional throughout the film. He gets it in a different way I guess. He understands. Obviously there are different types of warriors.

So it is, in life. Everyone has their struggle. Everyone is fighting some sort of battle, and we’ve been chosen to fight our particular fights. I’m still not convinced I chose this one- Everyone who knows Jace is sure that he was first in line, but I think I was kicking and screaming to get away from this challenge. Matt probably had my back pushing me forward, and Hayden was on my side saying, “We got this! We can do this!” Oh, and let’s not forget the army behind us made up of all of YOU! Thanks a lot!

When the movie was over, Hayden asked me if I liked it. I said, “NO! It was awful!” (It was actually really inspiring and touching, but it hit way too close to home.) “But mom,” Hayden replied, “It taught us how to be more like Christ!” Yes it did. How could I argue with that? After all, Hayden spoke just like a true warrior.

Chemo tomorrow. I'll let you know how it goes. Wish us luck.

"Let Me Hold You Longer"

Every once in a while a children’s book comes along that tugs on my heart. My boys have patiently tolerated me singing “I’ll Love You Forever” (to my own made up tune) to them, and I still joke that I sneak into their rooms at night and rock them “back and forth.” My latest favorite children’s book though is called, “Let Me Hold You Longer” by Karen Kingsbury.

I bought both boys their own copies for Christmas in 2008, and signed them lovingly as usual, but I’m not sure my guys really care about them yet. The new copies immediately went into the pile of books I have purchased for Hayd and Jace over the years and started collecting dust. I’m hoping someday they will appreciate that their crazy mom loves the written language and finds satisfaction in sharing this type of expression. For all YOU  veteran, “book giving parents” out there, does this ever happen?? Do your kids ever go through the pile and really understand what you gave them? I have my doubts...so I'm just wondering.:)

As Jace is trying to finish his goal of reading 1,000 books before school starts, we’ve dug deep into the closets of our home for books he can read. “Let Me Hold You Longer” emerged once again, and little did I know what a profound impact it would make on me tonight, August 9, 2010. Hayden just cuddled up to me and asked me what I was looking at. I showed him the cover, and he asked me to read it to him. I guess he is my kindred spirit because we both wear our emotions out on our sleeves- I  read about two pages to him, and we were both crying!...then laughing at ourselves because we were crying!! (Who would think that my Hayd who can hit homeruns and tackle with such aggression could be so sweet??!) I was touched that my great big, almost 12 year old Hayd still appreciates how much I love him. I highly recommend the book; it is SUCH a tender story about a mom watching her son grow up.

In summary, the narrator talks about how sometimes we focus so much on a child’s firsts…that the “lasts” often go unnoticed. It made me realize how every day life moves on, and if we are in too big of a hurry, we may not appreciate the amazing things our loved ones do…AND the sad truth is…they might never do them again! Yesterday I sat down by Jace and reminded him I hadn’t received a hug all day! As he has started to have more good days than bad, he is busy and going every minute. I watch him out the window play in the yard, and I cry happy tears that my JACE is throwing water balloons, riding his bike, playing capture the flag, and tormenting his brother. When I reminded him yesterday that he and I hadn’t had any cuddle time, he wrapped his arms around my neck and promised he would never get “too cool” to hug his mom. We’ll see. I’m not going to hold my breath.:)

Thursday Jace finished his last soccer game, and he even scored a goal! He’s looking forward to starting Flag Football and SCHOOL! We’ve scheduled his chemo for August a little early (next week) so hopefully he will be feeling better by the 25th, and his numbers will be ok to go! Everyone has been asking how I feel about sending him to school, and the truth is, he reeeeeally wants to go, so I can’t complain. I’m nervous and scared that because I can’t control his environment (like I’ve been doing), maybe he’ll get sick with something else…or that we will have awful mornings getting him out of bed…or a variety of other stressors that make me lose sleep at night—but I know from experience that now is the time to put it in the Lord’s hands and have FAITH that it will be ok, NO MATTER WHAT.

So, as much as I’ve been counting down the chemo DAYS and MONTHS and YEARS left…I’m sure hanging on to the hugs I get in the quiet hours at our house. Thanks to a simple children’s book and my sweet Hayden, I’ve been reminded that I need to enjoy the journey. I need to hang on a little longer to every sweet moment.

On Loan

As we pulled into the parking garage at Primary Children’s Hospital Thursday morning, Jace said, “Park where we always do, dad!” The once raw and cruel reality of being at this hospital has been replaced by habit, and Jace practically sprinted in to see his doctor on the 4th floor. Matt and I *think* today was the first day we didn’t have to carry Jace in. It was amazing to watch him notice the new things on the hospital grounds and act like he owned the place. Although I’m so GRATEFUL I could follow Jace in with a smile, I could not ignore the very tender spirit in the air as I thought about the recent happenings at this hospital. If you live in Rexburg you know that I’m talking about Preslee, and if you don’t, you can check this blog for the whole story. http://patrickandashley.blogspot.com I won’t try to explain.
I will say that as usual I don’t really understand much about life. As I struggle to understand why Jace has to endure the trial of cancer… and why other children are taken from this earth so quickly…I recognize that I have NOT yet mastered the internal battle of questioning that goes on in my mind. With this very real struggle alive and well, I attended an excellent meeting Sunday that helped my perspective. Not only did I feel the Spirit so strongly in all of the messages, I also appreciated a closing remark by President Parkinson, a recent organ transplant recipient. He softly explained that he doesn’t know why he, as a 51 year old adult, would remain on the earth, and a baby so perfect as Preslee would be taken…and he reminded us that really everything is dependent on the Lord’s will. This idea took me back to a quote on Pat and Ashley's blog:

Elder Neal A. Maxwell rightly said: “The submission of one’s will is really the only uniquely personal thing we have to place on God’s altar. The many other things we ‘give’ … are actually the things He has already given or loaned to us.” This is an especially powerful thought to me, since Elder Maxwell died from an eight year battle with Leukemia.

Sometimes when I look at my boys I remember what an amazing gift it is to be a mother and have children loaned to me- because they are so good and so beautiful (sorry boys- I know that’s not a manly word)! I know through their divine qualities they can ONLY come from a perfect God- and that HE is allowing me to raise them on this earth- (or they might be raising me…). They are mine, on loan, and it is my responsibility to do everything I can to get them back to him. I am so thankful for the knowledge I have of eternal life.

(Hayden and Jace Walking in the Hospital)

So, one more visit to the hospital is behind us, with Jace enduring chemo like a champ. Right after we left PCMC we followed Hayden to a baseball tournament in Heber City. Jace was fine the first night, but Friday morning he started sinking, and by Friday afternoon he had to be held and carried. Friday night in the hotel bed he begged for us to be by him.  We took turns:  first I caressed his arms and neck- then Hayden cuddled up to him.  Finally Matt took over and helped him fall asleep. 

Today I am grateful for ALL of the people “on loan” in my life, and I pray that I will someday be able to fully submit my WILL to the Lord with complete understanding and acceptance.  Ten and 1/2 months of chemo down.  Two years and 1 1/2 months to go. We can do it!

Reflections

While walking for the Relay for Life at 1 & 2 AM and then still at 3 AM…and 4, my tired brain tried to process why it was that I had allowed this handful of devoted friends and family members to miss their entire night’s sleep to walk around a track. It seemed a silly thing to be doing, when really there was no consequence for our team if we just quit walking. There was no patrol or judge standing on the edge saying, “Do you still have someone walking?” or “How many laps have you made?” But there we were- making sure someone was always representing Jace.

I didn’t have any answers then, probably because I was too tired to make sense of it, but I’ve continued processing it for the last nine days, and looking back I’m very tender about some of the revelations that have filled my heart.

The whole Relay was purposely symbolic, starting at sundown. During the opening comments they compared the start time to when someone is newly diagnosed with cancer. They said, it is a time when the sun sets and darkness comes. I’ll attest that driving to Primary Children’s Hospital for the first time last fall certainly felt like a dark time in my life- and one where I didn’t know if we’d make it through the night. But the journey continued, and through the very dark hours we kept walking. Lots of family and many friends attended us on our way, and took over at the ideal minutes- just like in Jace’s fight. As if by cue, the right people have come into his life and taken their turns strengthening him and helping him on his way.

At 10 PM there was a silent lap in honor of the people who have died from cancer. The track was full, and the night sky was flashing lightening. Thunder boomed all around us, and my senses were fully aware of the electricity in the air. Just as soon as we finished the silent lap, the rain started pouring. Many members of our team were still there and hovered under our little canopy. At one point I looked at the people in the corners holding the thing down. I knew it was dangerous for those cornerstone people to be holding the metal frame of the canopy, but I also knew there was no way I was going to talk anyone into going to the car. It reminded me of receiving help during this whole trial. It is so difficult to just allow it to happen! Maybe the most humbling experience of the night was when I looked into the eyes of the people still there and told them they should go. It was pouring rain! It was late!...but consistently as I scanned their eyes they firmly resounded, “We aren’t going anywhere.”

(Hayden, Kyle, Kyler, & sleeping Jace)

So, our team walked all night. We walked, and we talked, and we honored Jace with every lap. Not because we had to, but because it was our privilege to represent something greater than simply walking a few laps. We walked because we knew it was our way of saying CANCER WON’T BEAT US. It WON’T break our family, and it WON’T silence the courage we see every time we look at our 7 year old, spunky, determined Jace.

(Matt taking Jace home at midnight)

(Dylan, Dayton, & Jace @ the 4th of July parade)

(Jace & Hayden fishing with Dad)

(Finally riding horses again: Jace and Hayden with Red)

On a side note, Jace's CBC this week was fine. His numbers rose enough to eliminate concern, and Jace enjoyed a perfect, normal, 4th of July weekend. His hair is so cute. It is coming in quickly now, and I’ve been calling him a furry little monkey. The color is slightly different than it ever has been, being a little more blonde with a little more body. Although I think I’ll have a hard time cutting his hair (ever again!), I did trim his sideburns and the hair on his neck. His silky smooth legs of days past have been replaced by thick blonde hair, and his dark eyelashes and eyebrows have brought back the Jace we used to see. We do not have to return to the doctor until July 22nd, and then we will be traveling to Primary Children’s Hospital. After that we will have to start figuring out how to deal with chemo and school! We are both planning on returning to our former life of school, so wish us luck with the whole- ‘getting Jace out of bed before 10 AM’ thing.

Last night as I sat under the stars with my favorite people and watched fireworks explode above our heads, I reflected on the events of the last ten months. Watching Jace run around the yard with his cousins has a whole new meaning this year. I’m so grateful for every minute I have with the people I love, and I never want to become callus to that again. Thank you all for your influence in our lives. Ten months of chemo down. Two years and two months to go. We can do it.:)