Let’s be indulgent for a minute.  Let’s play the what-if game.  Let’s put on our creative hats and go down a lane that’s fun until you’re faced it. 

You have been told by an oncologist you have maybe a year to live.  Imagine what you want to do with your life. 

I will take you down my mind’s road as I’ve pondered this for over a week. 

My first thought was to dust off my video camera and start making tapes for my kids (I will probably still do this, I just don’t know where to begin).  What do you say?  How do you convey the most important things you want them to know?  How can you be sure they will be on the right track throughout their lives if you’re not here? 

Another suggestion was to write a small children’s book, just for our kids, to help them understand what mommy is going through. (Thanks to Snapfish, I’ve already started).

Then I started to categorize by the decades in my life.

In my 20’s:

Brooklyn wasn’t born until I was in my late 20’s so I’m sure my thoughts would have been self indulgent and silly.  Like apply for all the credit cards I can, max them out, quit my job, cash in the little money I saved into my 401K, take Dusty and travel the country coast-to-coast or maybe even the world.  Stay in the best hotels.  See all the things I’ve ever wanted to see.  Eat whatever I’ve wanted to eat.  Experience all the things I could experience.  Sky Dive.  Scuba.  Bungee.  Gamble a little.  Get a tattoo.  Buy all the clothes I could’ve ever wanted.  Oh and always come home for the holidays and eat one or two servings of each dessert or maybe the whole pan if it’s my grandma’s oreo ice cream dessert (I have a BIG sweet tooth).

In my 30’s

Brooklyn was born in 2003 so we had a beautiful little girl in our 30’s.  We were running a baby furniture store and things were more serious at this time compared to my 20’s.  Life wasn’t as carefree.  Dusty and I were working really hard at the store and most of it wasn’t fun.  Unfortunately, it was a difficult business to deal with and the economy was slowly tanking.  We loved Brooklyn so much that we knew wanted to have more children.  So by the miracle of invitro fertilization we found out in 2008 we were expecting twins.  The news was quickly overshadowed by severe sickness.  We took our eye off the store and thankfully had great employees to help run it, but it’s not the same when you’re not in it (mentally or physically).   The store began to drag and so did our attitudes.  Had I been given the “years notice” at that time I would’ve immediately thrown in the towel, locked the doors, said “come get us! (fist shaking in the air)” and lived my life with our blossoming family.  But being the hardworking dutch people we are, we couldn’t throw in the towel.  We had to close the best way we could.  In May 2009 we closed the store.  I still would’ve eaten the entire pan of my grandma’s oreo ice cream dessert, but I didn’t know I had a year left.  🙂

Now…

I’m still in my 30’s.  Thirty three to be exact.  It was the end of May 2009 I was told I had breast cancer.  The twins were 7 months old and Brooklyn was five.  We had a young family with lots of help and we got through it.  My cancer was invasive and aggressive.  I went through chemo, double mastectomy, radiation and was looking forward to reconstruction when I was told the cancer metastasized to my brain in the form of six tumors and I have about a year to live.  Now put that in your pipe and smoke it. 

Last Friday, Dusty and I were given that news.  We had conversations I didn’t think we would ever have to have.  Talks about the kids and what’s most important to us for them.  Before this diagnosis we were “getting bored” with our house and started to look for new houses/property to buy.  I was looking forward to reconstruction and at least looking “normal” with clothes on.  Suddenly…nothing mattered.  Nothing mattered.  Not ONE thing.  WHO CARES WHAT OUR HOUSE LOOKS LIKE?  Who cares if I don’t have the ideal bathroom situation for two little girls. 

My only concern is to stay alive.  I have to live.  I am going to raise my children.  I am going to be the best mom I can be for them.  I will be there for them through all the bumps, scrapes, broken hearts, troubles and needs.  I am going to make a difference in this world.  I am going to be the best wife my husband could ask for and the best daughter, sister and friend. 

So given a year doesn’t mean I’m going to dip my toes in each coast of the country or eat an entire pan of my grandma’s oreo ice cream dessert.  I’ll have plenty of time to do that. 

I’m going to do what God would want me to do.  He wants me to live and save souls for Christ! 

Go save some souls!

I feel like Spectrum Health is becoming my second home.  My first radiation treatment went well tonight.  They mold a mask specifically for my headshape and then zap me.  The mask will always be my mask.  When I’m done I get to keep it.  If I had a mantle, I would put it on there. 

The reason they’re aren’t sending me home today is because 1.  My radiation treatment was so late in the day and they need to make sure I react well to it (so far, so good) and 2.  They need to make sure my headaches can remain under control at home.  I’m getting mixed signals from the nurses on this.  Some imply that it should go well and other’s seem to question it.  I’ve been assured, however, that I’m going home tomorrow. 

I called my parents to give them an update and see how the kids were doing.  The kids are doing great.  My dad has taken some days off to help my mom with them and Max is following Grandpa around like a proud little cub.  Samantha and Brooklyn are having fun with grandma.  When I talked to Brooklyn tonight she cried.  She said she was afraid we were never coming home.  That was hard to hear.  She’s such a tender soul. 

I have eighteen rounds of radiation to go.  Most of them will be done in Holland, but I do not have a specific time set up for those yet (therefore, no sign up sheet has been created yet). 

Thank you for your advice and tips on where to go for treatment.  I have a nice list going, but after talking with Dr. VanderWoude today, I feel she has my best interests in mind and wants me to go to where I’ll get the best help.  Right now that seems to be Mayo Clinic.  I have the forms filled out for Wings of Mercy and will proceed further with those tomorrow when I go home. 

Thank you for the prayers, kind words and deeds you’ve done for my family.  Please remember that Brooklyn doesn’t know about the time frame that has been given to me, and at this point, we don’t feel it’s necessary to tell her about that.  We would appreciate you use discretion around that too. 

I’ll be in touch tomorrow.  Everyone take care.  Don’t forget to sign up for Laps for Lindy if you want to participate.  Click on “Race For A Cure” on the right hand side of the page. 

God bless you!

I can’t sleep.  I couldn’t sleep all night.  We had great groups of people visit us last night.  We had a marathon day of tests and meetings with doctors that I thought we would fall right into bed and zonk out for the rest of the night.  The last person of the night to stop in was Dr. Vander Woude (oncologist).  She was the doctor we were waiting to hear from for my prognosis.  She stepped around the questioning at first.  I said “do I have three days”?  She said “oh yes, you have three days.”  Then I said “is it months or a year?”  she said “probably a year”.  There it is.  There it was.  It was put out there.  Like a sucker punch in the gut that knocks all the wind out of you.  I have about a year to live.  I never thought I would say those words.  The radiation and any other procedures they do are to buy time.   

Just as we were going to bed, Dr. Hoberman called our room phone.  She spoke with Dr. Song (reconstructive plastic surgeon in Chicago) who happened to be on vacation, but was very happy to talk to her about me.  Dr. Hoberman is going to place some calls today to see what she can find out about alternative treatment at a bigger hospital or the Mayo Clinic.  Dr. VanderWoude is coming back in today (I’ts her weekend to work) and we are going to talk more about getting me to Mayo Clinic on Monday.  Does anyone have a private pilot’s license and feel like taking a trip to Mayo?  😉

Dusty and I are devastated.  We are beside ourselves upset with this news and don’t know how to process it.  I believe in the prayers that are being said.  We feel a peace at times that we know only could come from God. 

Please pray that we are led in the right direction for treatment.

Please pray that as Dusty and I look to the year ahead we will have two different outcomes so pray for him as he is the one left behind to be with our kids.  To raise them. Love them. Clothes them. Feed them.  Be a mom to them.

It breaks our hearts.

We need your help so if you know of alternative places such as mayo or chicago that do extensive/miraculous work with multiple brain tumors we would appreciate the information.

God Bless

We are settled into our room at Spectrum (Butterworth) Hospital.  I had a CT scan of my abdomin and pelvis last night around 10 p.m.  I don’t have the results of that.  They did a brain MRI at 12:30 a.m. and we got the results of those today.  It turns out I have six tumors.  Three are quite large and are the ones causing the headpain and nausea.  Two are “normal” size and one is very small.  The PA from the neurosurgeon’s office said since I had so many of them that surgery isn’t an option in their opinion.  She said they would just grow somewhere else in the brain or grow in the same spot. 

The PA from Dr. VanderWoude’s office came about an hour ago and said it’s Stage IV cancer and the prognosis isn’t good. 

We still have to meet with the Radiation Oncology Team. 

My bone scan is scheduled at 3 p.m. 

I’m terrified.  I cannot bear the thought of leaving my kids without a mom.  I know I shouldn’t go there yet because we don’t know the exact prognosis, but that’s where my mind goes.  They’re too little.  I have to raise them.  I’m their mom.  I want to be there for them.  This is a horrible thing to have to process.

Please pray for:

Results of my bone scan to be cancer free.

Peace and God’s prescence, love and comfort in our lives.  I want to hear his voice.

Our kids.  Brooklyn is only six, Max and Samantha are 1 1/2 years old.  Even if the prognosis were good, this still isn’t fair to them to have their mom away from them. 

Our parents.  They are our rock for our family.  Please pray for strength, peace, endurance and energy to keep up with our kids (my parents are taking care of them right now).

My friends.  I have great friends and Jill has been with me every step of the way.  She’s even here right now. 

Pray that we will not grow weary.  I HAVE to beat this.  It’s not a choice.  God is the great physician and can work miracles. PRAY FOR A MIRACLE!

The headache and nausea didn’t go away so I called Dr. Hoberman’s office this morning. She consulted with Dr. VanderWoude and together they decided to send me to Holland Hospital. After they did a head CT, they found two brain tumors. At least now we know what’s causing the headaches. They admitted me to Spectrum and that is where I’m sitting now. I have a night full of tests ahead of me-MRI, CAT scan and bone scan.

Please pray we caught the tumors early and that the cancer hasn’t spread. Pray for Dusty, the kids and my parents. Pray that I can beat this cancer too.

We will update again after the tests are done and we meet with the neurosurgeon.