Happy Tears

The month of November came and went and somehow it's already almost mid-December (seriously, how did this happen?) In between the last post and this one, I had a birthday and turned 40 (or 27 but it feels as old as 40), and Zach and I became true adults and purchased our first home in Dallas! We closed on the house on the Wednesday of Thanksgiving, enjoyed Thanksgiving at home with my family and grandparents (and a beefy cheese-ball) the next day, and then moved out of our apartment/into our new house on Friday. We had 8 AMAZING family members helping us with the big move and we could not have been luckier to have them all there. By the end of that weekend (and a countless amount of boxes, trips to Home Depot, and power tools later) our house already looked like we had lived there for years. At some point I need to get it together enough to post pictures because seriously it is the cutest, homiest (homey-est? Home-iest? idk I teach math) house ever.

Ok, now to the other stuff ..

Most of you already know this, but we had some pretty incredible news over Thanksgiving break. After 5 weeks of induction chemo-therapy, I had a CT scan done so that my doctors could compare the results to the scan that I had had done at MD Anderson/pre-chemo. I was a nervous, ridiculous bundle of nerves the entire week leading up to it. Irritatingly enough, I had convinced myself that the chemo hadn't worked, and that instead the cancer had now spread to my lymph nodes. My wandering brain, combined with a little bit of Web MD and not enough distractions is definitely NOT a good thing.

We had the doctors appointment the same afternoon that I had the scan, and I had my usual army of both of my parents and Zach with me. The doctor came in, pulled out his phone, and showed me a picture of my first CT scan that had been done at MD. He spoke a bunch of medical mumbo jumbo that went way over my head, and pointed out the white spot on the scan that was apparently my tumor. Then he swiped to the next picture, which was my scan from that morning, and pointed to the MUCH SMALER white spot on the scan. He went on to say that my tumor was showing a "significant response to the therapy" and that it was currently so small that he couldn't even measure it! Cue the happy tears, the hugs, more happy tears, and the praying (this is the doctor who prays with us every time and is a ROCKSTAR in all of our opinions). THIS, everyone, is the best news that we could have asked for. It shows that the plan is working. It shows that we are on the right track to curing this horrible disease. It shows that all of the side effects, sick days and worries are worth it. It shows that God's in charge.

This Tuesday, I will go in for chemo #9 (typing that made me remember the song mambo #5 - 90's babies where you at?). The plan then is to re-scan and then re-evaluate, which is something that I feel like we are always doing. We always seem to be making plans, to make more plans. The idea of surgery still seems to be floating up in the air somewhere, and my family and I are still praying that we don't have to turn to that option. However, if we do, we do. We will deal with it and manage it just like we have with every other option, but not having surgery would be the best possible outcome. The plan will, however, 100% still involve 7 (at least thats the number for now) weeks of concurrent radiation and more chemo therapy. Luckily, I will not have to do all three chemo drugs anymore, and I will just be on weekly Cisplatin. Hopefully, the side effects from the chemo with just this one drug will be easier to manage! The radiation will be 5 days a week, and about halfway through/towards the end will not be the most enjoyable experience to say the least. I'm scared about the radiation, but I am going to keep taking it one day at a time, focusing on the "now" instead of worrying about what that might look like down the line (perception is everything, right?)

Hopefully, we will know more after my appointment on Tuesday about what things will look like schedule-wise. I am crossing my fingers that the plan isn't too complicated, and that we get to enjoy our Christmas without thinking too much about the medical stuff. This is my ABSOLUTE favorite time of the year, and cancer is sure as hell not going to get in my way of enjoying every single second of it.

So - Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to all of my favorite prayer warriors out there. Zach and I truly thank God for each and every one of you and we couldn't battle this without you!

XXOO, L