A promise in the trenches

Job 8:21 NIV

He will yet fill your mouth with laughter
and your lips with shouts of joy.

This verse was posted online today by someone that I follow on Twitter. Thank the Lord that I saw this promise this morning and could rely on it as my husband drove away to Zion an hour ago to get his nasty treatment that will make me a de facto single mom/caretaker for about nine days, and my son went to pieces and screamed for his dad to come back. I sat down on the floor and cried with him. Actually, I still am crying. I hate the family time that cancer has robbed from us. I hate the stress it has added to my young son's life.

And yet I know that on the other side of this valley, there is peace. Joy. Hope. Comfort. Smiles.

I don't know what those circumstances look like. I don't know if my husband and I will high five each other here on earth and celebrate victory over cancer, or if we will high five each other in heaven someday when the second person gets there, and celebrate our ultimate victory in Christ, but I cling to the sure fact that there are better days ahead than this for those who follow Christ. Those days will be full of laughter and shouts of joy.

Life these days

Hello family and friends,

In case you haven't seen much of us lately, do not be alarmed.  We are alive.  We are doing as well as we can!  I'm crazy busy with school, mothering, caretaking, and some projects.  Ryan is busy with projects, work, speaking, and traveling.  We have been home very little on the weekends lately.

We are grateful.  Who would have thought back in those dark days of April 2011 that we would be here right now - busy, going about our lives, and doing our best to obey the things that God has placed in our lives.  It isn't easy - He continually calls us to step out in faith and do some tasks that seem extremely difficult.  Yet we know that His grace is sufficient for every day, and we are grateful for that grace that continues to buoy us down this long road.

The chemo blues

Ryan is on his fourth or fifth cycle of oxaliplatin, 5FU, and Erbitux.  It has been a battle.  I would definitely say that this has been his toughest chemotherapy combination that he has yet faced.  The side effects are numerous: rash on many different parts of his body, extremely tired, sensitivity to cold, virtually no appetite, acid reflux, digestive issues, sores in his mouth, the list goes on and on.  Taking care of Ryan has been a pretty tall order lately!  I can assure you that his attitude and his resolve is completely unwavering.  He is so nonchalant about getting treatment, even having a good attitude about the five-hour round trips to Chicago every two weeks.  His dad is the person that is making this trip.  We are thankful for him!

Scan time!

It is almost time for those fun, fun days of the year known as scan time!  These will be taking place on Thursday and Friday, October 25-26.  We are glad that we can combine this trip with some family time with Corey - he has a home game only 20 minutes away from Zion on the 27th, so we will stay after our appointments through the following Sunday.  Ryan will be getting a CT scan done on Thursday the 25th, and we will get results on Friday morning.  Given his lack of any pain or alarming symptoms, I am hopeful for good results!

Prayer requests

Friends, this road is long and hard.  I would definitely say that Ryan and I are both weary and downtrodden at the moment.  Right now I feel like I'm stuck on a perpetual Wednesday.  Nobody likes Wednesday because it's in the middle of the week and it's really far away from last weekend and the upcoming weekend.  It has been a really, really long and hard 18 months and we are exhausted.  Yet we know that we still have a far piece ahead of us.  Please pray for renewal and encouragement.  Please pray for us to keep our eyes fixed on the cross and that we would not feel any temptation to be disobedient while things are tough.  We long to glorify God at every turn of this journey, and it's hard to do so when we we feel like we are stuck in a valley.


Have we told you lately, "thank you"?  There are so many of you that are reading these words this moment and you have been reading since those dark days of April 2011 that I mentioned earlier.  Thanks for walking this road with us, however long you've known us.  We are thankful for your prayer and for your willingness to come alongside us as we figure out this journey that God has placed us on.

Can you be thankful when things are taken away?

"I'm going to church in God's country tonight."

That is what I yelled two Sundays ago as I headed out on the trail in the Big Horn Mountains and crested the first ridge. This is what I saw!

It was my favorite sermon I had heard in a while! And so began an incredible journey over the next five days. We would ride anywhere from four to eight hours a day, make camp at a new spot every night, and get up and do it again.

I don't generally pay much attention or spend much time thinking about the day a doctor at MAYO told me I had less than a year to live. This trip, I couldn't get it out of my head. I just kept shaking my head at the absurdity of a "terminal" cancer patient going to almost 10,000 feet and doing a pack and trail trip. Not to mention I did it in between chemo cycles without a delay.

This was a special trip. I've been in the mountains before (not these). I've seen incredible country in my life. In the past my response as I come upon another stunning vista was to say, "wow". This trip I constantly found myself saying, "thank you". Every time I thought about where I could be at this time, about my friends who are suffering from this disease, about my family, I said, "thank you".

Every time I saw something that took my breath away, or a trail mate helped me with the labors of making camp, I said, "thank you". (There's a cow and calf moose pair in this pic)

As I looked for a place the first morning to do my devotions, I meandered my way down to the creek we camped next to for water. It was a gorgeous morning and I took my little stool and my bible from my saddle bags and sat next to the running water.

I had been reading Nehemiah, but flipped to the Psalms and stumbled upon the 23rd Psalm. It took on a new meaning for me. A passage I'd memorized when I was in third grade now came alive.


Psalm 23
New American Standard Bible (NASB)
The Lord, the Psalmist’s Shepherd.

A Psalm of David.

23 The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not want.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside quiet waters.
3 He restores my soul;
He guides me in the paths of righteousness
For His name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I fear no evil, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You have anointed my head with oil;
My cup overflows.
6 Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life,
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.


I had just taken my horse off the high lines from the evening and let him loose in the pasture. He was ecstatic.

Now I sat next to the still water, and the imagery hit me hard. Even though I'm in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I felt like my cup was overflowing abundantly  I felt so undeserving of the blessing of being able to make this trip. I felt overwhelmed by all that God has given me over the last year.

Well we pressed on and hit the trail again. This trip was a big risk. We would be riding into the Cloud Peak Wilderness area. Nothing wheeled or motorized is allowed into this uninhabited reserve. Even emergency helicopters have to get special permission to land. We would be about a days ride away from help if anything happened. I won't lie, and I'll tell you that some people in my life were a little worried about how I would do.

I had prayed and listened and in the end felt at peace that this was an okay thing to do. The second day was going well. I felt great, the horses were doing well, and we were seeing some amazing scenery. We came to probably the steepest toughest climb of the entire trip. I was leading, and we decided to head up the windy trail. It was a very steep grade that we were cutting across on about a 10-12 inch wide path. The footing was extremely loose and sandy.  To our right was the incline and to our left was a decline for about fifty yards then a drop off of a couple thousand feet. About two thirds of the way up my horse who is only five and still learning what he's capable of starting to get squirrelly. I could feel it and spurred him hard to keep him going.

He started to lose his footing and slip down the hill sideways. I quickly realized he had stopped listening to me and was in survival mode. I stepped off him on the up hill side and as I hit the ground I lost my footing and slid underneath him. I quickly scrambled up the hill and still holding on to him as he started sliding down the hill backwards began a tug of war with a 1200 pound animal falling off a mountain.

Needless to say I lost and the horse got loose. I thought he might keep sliding down the hill and hit the cliff, but fortunately he caught himself on a small tree and got his balance.

I was running on adrenaline but could already tell I didn't have much more energy to chase him all over this mountain and get him up the hill. The other riders kept going to get their horses up the hill and to safety. My good friend Chad who drove out with me and really made this trip happen for me from a logistical stand point, let his pack horse loose and rode down to my saddle horse. Chad and Cruz were able to grab my horse and get him back up the trail and up the mountain.

This is the view from the top of that mountain!

In the end I didn't have a scratch (a sore arm and shoulder but no blood), my horse had a nick in his leg (a long ways away from his heart) and we all had quite a story. I did however have a another example of how my amazing living God provides and protects. As I sat on the top of that mountain catching my breath the same words came to my lips... "thank you".

The next couple of days were an incredible journey through more mountains, valleys, lakes, and panoramic views.

I asked you for prayer for direction in some areas of my life. It's hard to be in that environment and not feel like God is talking to you. I prayed, listened, and sat still. There was no audible revelation, but there was a growing sense of peace about a decision I needed to make. As I came to that conclusion a familiar phrase came to my mind, "thank you".

This entire trip was a blessing and a privilege. When I start to struggle and get discouraged I often am thinking about all the things I can't do anymore. I can't play sports, work around the house much, think straight all the time, make plans for the future, commit to events with confidence, and so much more.

I often share that if I look at the activities and desires of my life as a right, then I get offended when I don't get to do them. I am resentful and bitter as I feel I've been robbed of certain things "I deserve".

When I look at all those things as a blessing and a privilege, then when God allows me to encounter and experience them, I'm overflowing with gratefulness. It's such an unexpected gift that I can't help but say "thank you".

This is a good place to live. Simple things like an evening with my son, or a sale at work, or a little spurt of energy can make your day. Big things like a trip out west with some incredible friends, the opportunity to connect with a young man newly married who is struggling through cancer himself, or watching your wife pour herself out to those stuck in this terrible cancer journey while she battles her own demons give you such a sense of indescribable thankfulness that you can't help but want to live your life sold out for God.

Whatever you're doing today, make sure you stop and take a few moments to say, "thank you".

Sounds of silence

Do you ever feel like life is piling up on you? You feel like you have so much to do that you're doing everything okay but not anything great? That feeling of treading water indefinitely but you're not sure how much longer you can hold on?

Maybe you're beaten down because of work, or family, or finances, or health. Maybe it's all of the above. Sometimes the anxiety of a big decision or even a bunch of smaller ones can create this feeling of uncertainty and unknown.

I have no idea what the next three months, six months, a year, or five years look like. That can scare me. As a long-range planner, I rarely find myself in this position. Yet no matter how much time I spend thinking about things, asking others for advice, and praying there is just no way for me to know how to prepare for the future.

I can make the best made plans and due to my health they can become irrelevant in an instant. I could never make any plans and then even when I feel well and things are going well I'd never do anything because I didn't plan.

I'm stuck. It's not just big stuff like jobs, and cars, and houses. It is little stuff too. Do I accept a speaking opportunity not knowing how I'll feel? Can I make this appointment for work? Can I take Kendra out on a date? I just don't know.

When I look to the future I see so many incredible and exciting opportunities. I could be headed in any one of a couple different directions and they're all excellent opportunities. I just don't know how to prepare.

I think the problem is I've been doing too much talking. When I pray I do most of the talking. I feel like I'm missing half the conversation. A spiritual discipline that I haven't developed enough is listening to God.

A mentor challenged me to stop trying to figure things out and start listening. He gave me a book by Mary Geegh called God Guides. This incredible woman was a missionary in India for over 35 years. The book is a collection of stories from her life and how the habit of listening during times of uncertainty, confusion, or turmoil led her to some incredible places.

As I read the book I started trying to do it myself. I was doing my radiation in Chicago at the time and was alone during the week for 8 weeks. It started out rough. My mind raced, distractions danced around the room. I could barely scratch out ten minutes at a time.

I never recieved any clear direction about anything. I did start to become very aware of my own sin and lack of ability to focus on God. I was embarressed and frustrated. I can watch a movie, read a book, and watch a game for hours but I couldn't spend ten unadulterated minutes with God? What was wrong with me?

The first clear message I got from God was to get on my knees.

Literally.

I had been in a chair, reclined, with my eyes shut. I know, that was dumb.

The act of getting onto my knees in this physically uncomfortable position kept me more alert. More than that though was the mental and emotional feelings of being face down before my God.

The first time I did that I went for almost 45 minutes straight!

Over the next couple months I started to build this into my life more regularly. Sometimes it was ten minutes sometimes an hour. Often times I never felt anything specific but always felt at peace.

I'm still a greenhorn at this discipline. I'm raw and unskilled and inconsistent. Even then, it's begun to change my life and how I live it. When you take the time to listen to what God is telling you, you start changing your thought process from what I want to what God wants. My thoughts become molded to His thoughts.

As I write this, I'm in Wyoming about to head out on a five day pack trip this morning. I'll be riding in God's country with a few friends, some horses, and Wyoming mountains. This is something I've been looking forward to, but now I feel like I have a purpose for it as well.

You see, I don't hear too well. The chemo has affected my ears and "what" is one of my favorite words now. I feel like I have a lot of decisions, pathways, and unknowns ahead of me and I need to be ready when the time comes to make them. I don't hear to well, so the best thing I could think of was to get closer to the source.

As God is in heaven, I had to get up in the mountains to hear him better. So I am asking for your prayer on a couple fronts.

Please pray that I would be physically able to endure the trip. I've felt better this cycle than any other cycle so far, but I'm definitely not 100%.

Please pray that as I spend time listening to God, so that I can hear that still small voice, I would be given direction on what God has in store for me. I am not necessarily asking Him for specifics, more a vision of how He wants to use me.

When you're done praying for me, why don't you spend a little time listening for yourself while you're at it!

By the road I wait

A while ago
I had traveled this road.
But I was asked to get off
And set down my load.

So I sit by the side
And watch the traffic go by.
I catch glimpses of smiles
As they speed and they fly.

It's quiet and lonely
Here with my thoughts.
Thinking of sunshine I saw
'Ere the day I got off.

How fast the cars move,
How invisible I feel.
They don't see me sobbing
As I crumple and kneel.

"Why am I here, God?
Why must I wait?
I have kept your commandments,
I have persisted in faith.

I trust you and love you,
But I really must go.
I've been waiting here too long,
With nothing to show."

I beg and I whimper,
I complain and I cry.
But all I hear is silence
And the cars passing by.

What's a poor man going to give his son?

I'm a rich man, but I don't have much. When I think about my Legacy for Colton I often think about the things I might leave him someday. I have a few special things.

1. My baseball glove - I have both my little league and my high school gloves. He already has his own but maybe he'll want his dad's too!

2. My saddle - I have a custom made saddle that was form fitted to my backside. Assuming he gets my rear end and not Kendra's he'll have one nice saddle that was hand made for his daddy. 

3. Winchester Model 94 lever action rifle - It was a gift from my uncle, and this trusty old .30-.30 is a lot of fun.

Each one of these things could tell part of the story of who I am. I loved sports, but baseball held a unique place in my heart as my dad was a pitcher in college. My first saddle, like the rifle was a gift from my uncle who cowboy'd out west like I did and helped cement my passion for horses and cowboys. All of these items are tied to my past and my family. They're part of my heritage. As much of the gift is the story that goes with it. 

None of it however tells my entire story. I have thought long and hard about what is the one thing I could give Colton that tells him my story? 

I'm still searching. No one object completely wraps me up. Yes I'm a little weird, but surely something can represent me after I'm gone.

The problem is the things I can give him, and the legacy I want to leave him aren't the same thing. Yes I want Colton to know me and who I am, but more than that I want him to know my God. 

To be known by my God! 

As Kendra and I attended family camp at Miracle Mountain Ranch last week, the speaker was challenging the families about leaving a legacy. One practice this man has is he reads through the Bible once a year. Every year he changes to a brand new Bible and gives the old one to a grandchild. This hit home with me as I stared down at my Bible. 

Back home I had left the worn out, falling apart, tattered brown Bible I'd been given. It was the same sword my grandfather wielded for many years as he labored and fought to save kids and families through the camp and treatment center he and my grandmother founded. It has decades of notes, underlines, scribbles, and prayers. As I read my grandfathers bible I encounter the same God he encountered so many years ago when he first opened this book. More than that I get to see how it impacted my gramps. 

The power of this book in his life is so evident that it jumps off the pages. I can hear his voice as I read his thoughts and it's almost like sitting there studying with him!

This book is so important to me, I hand copied every line, note, jot, tiddle, and scratch to "my bible". It too is worn and showing its mileage. It's a blend of all my grandfather's thoughts and mine added into it as well. It encompasses my heritage, my faith, and my personality. 

It still doesn't tell Colton about every passion, hobby, or experience I've ever had. The thing is, my prayer is that I become less, and God would become more. 

I probably can't leave him an inheritance, a business, or a boat. I can leave him the one thing he'll need to face every situation he'll ever encounter. I can leave him a bridge to his father, his great-grandfather, and his heavenly father. I can give him something that inspires, educates, matures, and protects him. 

I will give him the most valuable thing I have... my Bible.

Where has Ryan been?

Hello blog land,

I'm not dead yet (subtle Monty Python reference).

Wow what a month. It's hard to know where to start to try and summarize how I've felt over the last couple weeks. It wasn't too long ago we were anxiously awaiting the results of our scans.

Imagine our joy and thankfulness when it was revealed how much progress had been made due to treatment, radiation, and prayer. We celebrated and cried, but it was always a little reserved.

This was a huge step, a step we'd been praying for. However it's still one step. There is a long journey ahead of us no matter how things turn out. So I have to keep my "game face" on to a certain extent. That being said because this battle can weigh so heavily on you, you have to celebrate the joys God gives you.

A week later we had met Chris Tomlin, been hospitalized, and were still waiting to find out what was going on. A urinary tract infection turned septic was the hidden cause behind the pain, amnesia, disorientation and everything else.

A short five day vacation in the hospital in Chicago was exactly what I needed. God's ways are higher than my ways though. Through the course of tests to determine the source of the infection, a test showed the tumors were still shrinking even since the previous week!!! How great is our God?

Great!

Then my treatment was delayed for a couple weeks as I recovered. I was tired, mentally drained, and overall very exhausted for the majority of the last two weeks. Monday we finally started treatment again at a lower dose to make sure my counts stay high enough (prayer request).

Yesterday, Kendra, Colton and I headed out to Pennsylvania to Miracle Mountain Ranch to attend their family camp and be able to share our story. This is another camp that has played a part in shaping who I am today. The staff have been friends and mentors who have supported and guided me since I was 15.

In the meantime Kendra has started school, Colton is back in daycare, and things at camp feel busier than ever! I don't know where God is taking us over the next couple weeks/months but I do know I'd rather have God plan it than me.

There's no deep point or analogy today. To be honest I'm having a hard time finding moments of clarity to share what's on my heart. Don't mistake that for God not continually challenging and molding me. There's so much going on that I would like to share. Getting it from my broken mind at times is very difficult.

Please pray for our little family over this time of transition.

• That Ryan would have energy and be able to help out with keeping up life
• That Kendra would start the school year off with a bang and have chances to impact other students and teachers
• That Colton would do well at daycare and continue to be sheltered from the effects of my cancer on our family
• That Ryan would be protected physically from infection, low counts, complications
• That the cancer would continue to die, disappear and doors would open for future treatment options
• That Kendra and I would continue to be obedient even when it's overwhelming and God would use our story to change lives!

At home, and happy!

Hello friends and family,

I would like to happily announce that this blog is being written from the comfort of my living room in New Era, Michigan.  Ryan and Steve and I returned around 3:00 AM yesterday morning.  It has been a very busy time trying to get things settled, organized, and for life to kind of return back to normal.  To give some perspective, Ryan and I have only been home for about 6 out of the last 14 days!  Naturally, there are a lot of bills to pay, laundry, housework, and bags to unpack (I hadn't even unpacked our suitcase from going to Zion for scans last week before we left again).

Ryan is doing pretty well, but has a long way to go before he's "normal" again.  Right now his demeanor and stamina is kind of like what it is after he gets an infusion.  But the story is, essentially he had a simple infection that has started to go systemic.  Actually, because his white blood cell counts were so low, it advanced extremely quickly.  He was pretty much fine last Thursday, and he was septic by Friday afternoon.  He also had a small spot of his body that was hemorrhagic because of the infection, so his oncologist is giving Ryan another full week off of treatment to completely heal from this.  That puts his next treatment around August 28th.  That will be an entire month off, which is the longest he has gone for the last sixteen months without treatment.  Although I celebrate that he has some time off to recuperate from a very, very long stretch of chemotherapy, I would be a liar if I didn't say that I was slightly nervous about losing ground.

Speaking of momentum, we found out from a CT scan this week that his tumors are dying quickly.  The two spots that I mentioned he still had last week had shrunk noticeably in only one week.  We are praising God for this news, as it finally seems like we have struck the right chord in treatment.  Radiation? New chemo regimen? New nutritional lifestyle? Just simply God's timing and healing?  We aren't sure which combination of those four things it is, but we are grateful that the Lord has chosen to move in this way.

We are also extremely thankful for the people that helped us through this.  We are especially grateful for Steve, who accompanied us on what was SUPPOSED to be a short trip to the ER, and turned out to be a multi-day ordeal in Zion.  Cathey and my parents took care of Colton and Tuff, our dog.  Corey picked us up when Steve's car broke down and took us to Zion, and then he let us use his car the rest of the trip.  Chad, Ryan's friend and coworker, looked after our horses and even made sure that they made it to the farrier.  Lots more people offered their help and support.  And we could not be more encouraged and grateful for the support that people have given us through our blog and Twitter and Facebook.  We are floored by the love and the excitement and concern that people have demonstrated to us the last couple of weeks.

In spite of the unexpected infection and hospital stay, we have had a VERY positive August.  We could not be more thrilled with the news we've received and are riding a tidal wave of happiness.  Medically speaking, Ryan should not be alive, and he should not be doing as well as he is.  By God's grace, we are in this position, and we give Him all the glory and honor.

So close to going home, yet so far away!

Hello friends,

Well, if this hospital stay has been a test of my patience, I must say that at the moment I am failing that test miserably.  I am trying to work on my attitude, but at the moment it is not the greatest. :(

To sum it up succinctly, there hasn't been a lot of urgency on the part of the generalist overseeing Ryan's case to move this process along quickly.  I don't think that he had a firm concept of the fact that we have a two-year-old that we both miss terribly, that all three of us (Ryan, myself, and my father-in-law) have jobs with responsibilities - I am missing two days of back-to-school meetings this week - and that we left home on Friday just expecting to "run to the ER and back".  Four days later, here we are still.  Now he knows how we feel, after we had a conversation with him this morning.

The good news is that it really seems like we are leaving today.  We were initially told by a specialist this morning that Ryan would be getting a test done tomorrow at 11 a.m., but my husband channeled his frustration into a very direct persuasion that magically moved the test up to 4 p.m. today. :)  Once this test is over, Ryan will have to be in the recovery room for a short spell and then we can get on the road.

Please pray for traveling mercies, a Christlike attitude, and that we wouldn't waste opportunities while we are here at CTCA to share the hope that we have.  We know that God doesn't allow things like this to happen by accident.

The story of the slowest mad dash to Zion, ever.

Hi friends,

I realize that some of you are pretty sketchy on details of what went down with Ryan yesterday.  Of course, most of you know that we got amazing news this week about his cancer.  What you may NOT know is that we also met Chris Tomlin this past Thursday after his Unity Fest concer, which was super exciting!  I'm planning on writing a post about that soon. (I was going to write it yesterday afternoon, but yesterday fell apart...more about that right now.)

So after a phenomenal week, Friday morning started out kind of sluggish.  Because Ryan and I were out whooping it up late Thursday night (my parents watched Colton that night, so we were certainly footloose and fancy free!), I slept in kind of late.  Ryan woke me up around 9 a.m. to tell me that he had not slept well the night before and felt like he was coming down with some sort of cold or something. I got up and made him breakfast and sent him to work late with a mug of green tea and a kiss on the cheek.  I was mildly concerned because he was developing a "cold" and had had such low white blood cell counts this week, but didn't think much of it.

I went and retrieved Colton from my parents and went to a farmers market to get vegetables for a soup that I was planning on making Friday evening.  As I was chopping veggies and Colton was busy making total chaos of the house with his toys, Ryan texted me and asked him to come get him.  I texted back that I would come get him as soon as I got the soup going, which would only take a few more minutes.  Five minutes later, he called me and asked me again to come get him.  I told him, "Sure.  You just texted me a few minutes ago, though.  I was already planning to come."  He told me that he had no recollection of texting me and that he had just thrown up.  So I dropped the veggies, grabbed rain boots as it was super soggy outside, and Colton and I loaded up quickly. 

On my way to get Ryan, he called me two more times (it's not THAT far of a distance).  Each time he sounded more and more distant and "out of it".  I was beginning to get really scared because he wasn't acting completely conscious and he was talking very strangely.  When I arrived at Grace to pick him up, I found him laying down on the couch at his parents' house next door to camp, with his summer media specialist Brian sitting by him.  Brian told me that he had been in a meeting with Ryan when Ry suddenly started to act...not lucid.  Ryan abruptly got up and left the room, and Brian heard him throw up and try calling me from the bathroom.  Brian, if you're reading this, know that I'm really thankful for the way that you took care of him and didn't leave his side while I was coming to get him!  You are a gem. (Even if you DO go to U of M.) ;)

Ryan's dad arrived at his house and we decided that Ryan should get to an ER ASAP.  We decided that I would take Ryan to the ER and Steve would stay with Colton for the afternoon.  So I loaded up my groggy husband and we took off for Muskegon.  Mercy Hospital's ER turned out to be an exercise of patience, futility, and frustration.  Essentially, we were there for four hours, Ryan did not get any fluids or meds, and he started to get belligerent when I tried to give him gentle suggestions.  This belligerent side of Ryan is NOT something that I've ever seen before.  Plus, he started to get some seriously strange GI symptoms.  Muskegon and CTCA corresponded on the phone and it was decided that Ryan needed to get to Zion that day.  Unfortunately, we could not go by ambulance (still trying to figure that one out), so we went in Steve's car.

This is when things got really dicey.  Ryan was still fairly disoriented, and was asking Steve and I the same 10 questions every five minutes: he inquired about his horses, our dog, our son, his brothers, he asked if Brian the media specialist was okay, he had no recollection of anything that had happened to him that week, and he wanted to stop and use the restroom every fifteen minutes.  We made three stops between Muskegon and the Michigan/Indiana border.  Then, as we crossed into Indiana, Steve's car started to act weird.  We pulled off at a gas station in Lake Station, Indiana and decided that it was not wise to risk going any further.  After checking several nearby car rental agencies and discovering that no one in northern Indiana rents a car past 6 pm, we called Ryan's younger brother Corey who goes to school in Deerfield, Illinois to come get us (this was an hour and a half from where we were).  As we were waiting, Ryan's demeanor started to return to normal and he was starting to feel better.  We were relieved that his symptoms were not nearly as intense, as waiting was hard enough on us already.

Finally, Corey arrived and took us the rest of the way to Zion.  We FINALLY arrived around 11 pm Central time and he was processed and admitted within the hour.  All in all, the mad dash to Zion took seven and a half hours.  Steve got a hotel room across the street and I stayed in the room with Ryan.  When we woke up this morning, Ryan was definitely beginning to recall some things that happened this week (he remembered the previous trip to Zion, and the Chris Tomlin concert), but he remembered almost nothing from Friday.

So far, he has had an Xray, a CAT scan, an MRI, blood cultures, urine samples, and several physical exams.  The doctors have ruled out high ammonia levels, there is no metastasis of any kind on his brain, his white blood cell count is normal, but his platelets are low and they won't entirely rule out some sort of infection until the cultures come back.  We thought that we would probably go home tomorrow (Sunday), but the on call doctor told me that she doesn't think that we will probably go home until Monday at the earliest, when Ryan's primary oncologist can visit him and evaluate him.  If Ryan does have some sort of infection, we might have to rule out treatment this week AGAIN.

Sooo...that is the long story of what has transpired.  We are doing okay.  My heart was in my throat the entire afternoon and evening yesterday when I had no idea what was wrong with my husband and he was acting so unlike himself, but today it is reassuring to see him at his normal self, eating food, being a polite, sweet man again, and able to recall things that have happened.  His GI symptoms are lessening, too, so that is an excellent sign.

We covet your prayers for wisdom for the doctors, peace as we continue to try to get answers about what's happening, for grace and strength to get through these long days of waiting and cooling our heels, for continued healing...and for this mama's heart as she so sorely misses her little boy.  I have only seen Colton for about an hour in the last forty-eight, and likely will not see him again for at least forty-eight more. :(

We will continue to update Facebook and our blog...especially now that I know where they hide the computer lab in this huge hospital. ;)

-kp

Exodus 14:14 "The Lord will fight for you, you need only to be still."