Health, Hospital & Hell

To say 2015 wouldn't allow me to end the year on a good note is the understatement of the century.

As much as I want to blog everyday, something in my life pops up and ruins this writer's plans.

Just a few weeks (now months) back I was back in the hospital for three days with a virus in Nov... #onemorehospitalstayforthebooks

Then post-Christmas, on the 27th, I was admitted again for GI issues.
This hit me like a ton of bricks, ya'll, and I'm still currently having issues--two months later.

Needless to say November and December were insane months for us and January decided to follow suit.

I've literally been in the hospital this entire time I've been not blogging. I've had maybe 10 days or so since December 27 that I've been home; it's February 2.

It all started when we had to cancel Bex's first birthday because of my sinus surgery and then Thanksgiving came--a joyous time of year where we are supposed to give thanks and list all we are thankful for--unfortunately, that wasn't the case this year.

We had family members have strokes, my grandpa had a triple bypass surgery, I got sick, Bex had hand foot and mouth again, then Brody got sick, and even Klay managed to get a bout of what was going around the "White House" this time. It was terrible.

Between the family illnesses and deaths, every time I've wanted to write some other issue would already add to our fully-loaded plate.

It's honestly just been really really tough.

I'm doing as much as I can to try to stay healthy, but I can't help but notice all of the people around me are falling apart too.

I was actually the last one to get sick and had been rather healthy early December. My energy level was the best it had been since my diagnosis and I was hopeful I was on the mend.

And then WHAM! Like a Holly Holm KO kick to the head, all of my excitement about the holidays flew out of my mind and was replaced with worry and fear.

Sickness. Family illness. Deaths. All of them during the holidays this year.

I'm knocked back down again emotionally and physically as I sit here in a hospital bed typing away about how bad 2015 was for us.

And it so far looks like 2016 isn't off to the greatest start, but I'm determined it will be better than 2015! This is going to be a good year. It has to be. We so desperately need it to be.

It's been more than three weeks and people aren't really sure why I'm having GI problems. I have ulcers in my stomach, but tested negative for CDIFF. It was absolutely terrible.

We do know I have an inflamed colon, but we don't know what is causing it so we can treat it.

This lengthy hospitalization was not planned and it's been a struggle to find people to help out. I feel like I'm such a burden when I ask people to do stuff for me. And I know people say I'm not, it's just everyone has their own lives to tend to and don't need the complications of my life sitting on their doorstep with the little bubble that says "help me" next to it.

And this was my first hospital stay from Dec. 27-Jan.14.

Then, I was admitted again less than a week later and finally went home on the Jan. 30th. This time I tested positive for CDIFF, and I fell at the hospital fracturing my sacrum (buttbone, which was already fractured by the way).

Then to top all that off--I started to swell like a balloon and we learned there was a blood clot in my neck connected with my power port or central line, so I had to have surgery to have that removed (the port). Now, I'm on blood thinners, but I still have a lot of fluid in my face.

I mean it was so bad that I didn't even recognize myself.

I just feel bad for everyone around me. Everyone whose life this impacts everyday that's not mine.

I hate that I'm away from the boys. It kills me not to see them everyday.

I honestly feel like the last three months were just a blur. I don't know what to say when people ask how I feel, I'm tired of talking. I feel terrible. I look terrible.

It's made us have to shuffle the boys around, which we hate. I just want to go back to a normal routine again. My mom and Klay have been amazing. I literally don't know what I would do without them. Their lives are the most affected by my illness (along with the kids, of course). If Klay's with me, mom's watching the boys, and if mom is with me, Klay's with the boys. Mom is at my house every day taking care of me and three kids (Swayze, too) and she's done a hell of a job keeping it together. I honestly feel so much more at ease when she is around. There is nothing like being taken care of by your mama. NOTHING. I love you, mom.

Plus, Klay's working and trying to balance this crazy life we're living right now. He's trying to grocery shop, cook dinner, play with the kids, bathe the kids, get them to bed, and work and go to the Reserves and work there. Plus, visit me and stay with me at the hospital, driving back and forth from Dallas to our house everyday. There is just so much he's doing. I feel terrible for him. I just wish I could do something to make everyone's lives a little easier.

I love him so much. And he's been through this all with me (skinny, fat, bald, rashes, broken tailbones, dealing with me shitting myself, bathing me, helping me get dressed--you name it, he's done it.)

Then the poor guy dropped a cage on his foot at work and had to go to the ER last week. It was only a bone bruise, but it just seems like none of us can catch a break.

Right now I'm at the doctor. Yes, I'm out of the hospital, but I'm still swollen, having GI problems, my stomach is killing me, and I'm wearing Depends, which should tell you a lot about how "well" I am right now.

This is my life right now.

I'm 28 and married with two beautiful boys who I don't get to see because of my "recovery" from my stem cell transplant. I'm wearing Depends--so yes, I'm pooping on myself--I'm skinny, my skin is disgustingly dry, my face is blown up because of a damn blood clot in my neck. Oh, and it hurts any time I move my bum because I had to fall and break something while I already feel like shit. I'm going through menopause and I can't have any more kids. My life is quite possibly at the lowest point it's ever been--physically, emotionally, etc. I'm just trying to shake things off, but it's so hard because I keep getting bad news all the time.

I just don't even want to answer questions about anything. I don't want to engage with anyone right now. I know I don't need to shut people out at a time like this. All of these health problems have turned my life and those I love most [their lives] upside down.

Having these GI problems for two months with no resolve is frustrating.

Every day I've been sick with diarrhea, blood in my stool, going to the bathroom every few minutes...

I'm weak, I'm losing weight. I lost eight pounds since December. I'm in the 125s with clothes on. All my clothes are 4x too big for me. I need to get rid of the old and buy some new clothes asap, but don't feel like it cause I'm sick and weak.

I'm way too skinny. It's scary. Though it may not look like it in these photos I'm going to show you. They are gross, but I want people to know what this is like for me and what I've had to experience.

My face is still swollen and swells up really bad in the morning. My right eye is constantly blurry because of the fluid. Hopefully these blood thinners I'm on will help the swelling go down soon. I'm not as big as the last photo. My whole body was full of fluid then.

The only upside to swelling up like a balloon last week was that my jugs were pretty huge for a week. It was like size B to F in 24 hours. Holy Moly they were the biggest they've ever been. It was honestly insane.

But feeling this way about yourself isn't healthy.

I look in the mirror and look at my butt, that's really just skin now. There is no fat to it whatsoever. It's gross. I need my Kim K. curves back with a lot of junk from her trunk while I'm at it.

I was actually happier with my body when I was bigger (pre-AML). At least then I had something to grab. Now, its just skin. There is nothing there and it's pretty depressing.

There is probably a lot of stuff I've left out that's happened since I last wrote, but my brain just isn't all here today or ever, any more.

I just want to apologize to everyone for my lack of posting. We've literally had something happen to us everyday (or just me being sick and tired). And sometimes it's too hard to think about. I just can't even wrap my mind around all of this sometimes. It's a lot to take in.

I know I'm a bucket full of mixed emotions. I literally don't even know what to think or how to feel any more. I just know that I do want to do this--share with you guys. Sharing and knowing that people out there care and want to help does make me feel better.

My goal this year is to grow this blog. I'm working on getting it redesigned and some new things up and going, so I'm hoping that this will help me feel like I'm doing something with my life. I need something to do besides doctor appointments, hospital stays and feeling like poo all the time.

Please continue to pray for us during this very, very difficult time. We need all the prayers we can get!

Also, let's toast (& pray) for a great 2016!

Nothing Is Ever Smooth

I guess life wouldn't be life if it weren't full of bumpy roads, ups and downs and the unexpected. About a year ago I wrote a post called "The Unexpected" where I announced I was pregnant for the second time.

Now here we are a year later and my baby is six months old (born prematurely at 30 weeks) after discovering I had leukemia while pregnant--talk about unexpected...

I guess I can try to bob-and-weave all life's punches and jabs, but eventually, life is going to strike and it's probably going to be really amazing or really suck when it does. Unfortunately, mine was the latter.

So let's bring this post back to where it should be...nothing is ever smooth in my world. At least not for the past year.

My last post ended with me hoping that I'd leave the hospital that Saturday (after going to check my bloodwork and liver levels), but instead I was admitted; it was only for one night, but it still sucked.

The kids were with my in-laws because Klay was working his scheduled Reserve weekend, so my sister came and took me to the doctor that day. And I was looking forward to some down time to recover from my bone marrow biopsy the day before.

And remember, I can't change I diaper (or I'm not supposed to) so someone has to keep the boys or be here with me all the time.

I did get out of the hospital that Sunday, but I had to go all the way back to Dallas Monday morning to recheck my levels. I stayed at the doctor all day (getting fluids and what not), plus I had a rough Sunday night (no sleep!) getting up and down for stomach probs. #ewww #ouch

So instead of the kids coming home Sunday, they went to my parents' house cause we had such an early appointment the next day and they aren't allowed at the doctor's office.

Anyway that Monday (which was last Monday), I felt like shit.

I could barely walk, my bum was hurting so bad from having to go to the bathroom so much, so I was weak. There were no fluids were left in me; I was dehydrated. The doc wanted to make sure I didn't have GVHD of the gut (which is super serious) so I spent the entire day up there getting meds, fluids and whatever else my body was low on (which was pretty much everything).

They let me go home Monday since I'd just gotten out of the hospital the day before and had an ultrasound on all my remaining organs (ahem, no more gallbladder) so everything looked OK, as long as I stopped going to the bathroom. But I had to go back again the next day so they could recheck my levels again.

On Tuesday, he frequent bathroom trips came to an end. But we still spent a bulk of the day there at the doctor office.

When we got home, we hadn't seen the kids in five days. So, I was beyond ready to be with the kids and even though I felt much better I was still really weak.

We got the kids home and we are playing with them when Bex starts to scream and cry.

Anyone who has been around Beckham hardly hears him cry unless he's hungry, but this was like an "I'm in pain, mommy!" kind of cry. Then we noticed he was chewing on his hands and he started running a low-grade fever (100.3).

I mean I just got my kids back for the first time in five days and my six-month-old is running his first fever and began a long four-hour stretch of nonstop crying.

Of course Klay is super worried if it's something besides teething that was hurting him because I could catch it. And because my immune system sucks, I'm super prone to catching anything and the chances of it being so bad where I need to be hospitalized or it being life-threatening is high.

And I'd just gotten out of the hospital four days ago...

So let's get this straight...the kids' first night back home:

• Bex runs his first fever
• I just gotten over a severe bout of... let's be honest and say the word--diarrhea
• I was just discharged from the hospital for high liver levels and DO NOT want to have to be admitted again for sickness
• Bex is screaming his little lungs out from pain
• I'm two weeks post-gallbladder surgery and not back to normal
• And since we switched back to AT&T U-Verse all of my recordings I missed while at the hospital didn't record because I haven't set them up yet #thankyouJesusforondemand

Not that the last thing matters, I just wanted to throw that out there.

But seriously LIFE, give me a break would you? 

My main concern of course is Bex. Sickness complicates and makes things extremely difficult in every household, but it in ours it's exceptionally tough. My mom has to come over Monday-Thursday and sometimes Friday to help me with my kids because I can't change diapers and I might feel bad or feel weak. She also watches my niece three days a week, with my kids, so that's two toddlers who fight a lot and one baby. She comes over not just so I can rest when I feel bad or make me lunch or dinner (sometimes, I need some more home cooked meals, mom! LOL. JK, kind of) but someone has to watch them so I can go to the doctor.

But no mom ever wants to see their child in pain or sick, including my mom or me, or any parent. But if it happens, I want to be there for them. I've felt helpless because I can't do anything to make it better for Bex, especially because Klay didn't want me touching him "just in case" it was something else besides his teeth.

Anyway, we finally get our little men to sleep and the next day everything is much better...

UNTIL

we notice some spots coming up on Bex's tummy. At first, I thought he had just scratched his tummy but by the next day it has started to spread. It was all over--legs, feet, arms, face. 

First thing I googled was hand, foot and mouth, but it didn't really sound like it. Then I thought maybe it was a teething rash, but those normally don't spread over the whole body. Of course I was hoping it was an allergic reaction to detergent or something like that, but nothing really made sense. 

Two days after his "bad night," he acted fine. He was drinking, eating, sleeping and being the happy boy he always is; most importantly, he had no fever.

He wasn't acting like anything was wrong. 

That Friday, we went back to my doctor. 

My amazing doctor has the most awesome and best assistant ever! I love my Katie!! Anyway, she gave me some news...

My liver numbers went down and are closer to normal! 

And the bone marrow results showed that I'm 100% donor and ZERO leukemia blasts!!! 

That was the best news I've heard in a long, long, long time! 

Now that doesn't mean I'm "cured." It means right now my donor's immune system is fighting mine and so far she's kicking mine's ass, which is great. But it can flip flop and change. It does happen, so I'm trying not to get too excited, but it means that the transplant is working and doing it's job.

So that was amazing news. Klay kept saying "look how happy she is!" talking to Katie. And he grinned from ear to ear and I could see how long it had been since I'd really shown that much happiness and I saw his face and how much me being happy affects his happiness. 

All three of us were thrilled. I needed that news and I think we all knew that after the past several weeks.

Then, we showed them a photo Bex's rash just to see what they'd say about it. My doc was afraid it could be viral and if it is, it could be deadly to me if I were to catch something like that. They warned me to stay away but to take Bex to the pediatrician Saturday morning to see what she says.

My mother-in-law was watching the kids at our house while we went to the doctor and so she ended up taking the boys to her house. Her and Klay took them both to the pediatrician on Saturday.

The result? Brody had started running a fever Friday night and showed spots on his belly too. Bex had some ulcers in his mouth. Conclusion: Hand, Foot and Mouth. 

FML.

So my kids had to go somewhere again, away from mommy and they are sick. There is nothing in the world that would make me ever want to have someone else take care of my children while they are sick. That's my responsibility. They are my babies and when they are sick, they should be with me. It kills me knowing that I'm not the one holding them and comforting them when they feel bad. That's part of being a parent and I can't fulfill my duties because even though I'm 100% donor, my immune system is marathoning it's way back to normal, which to be honest is more like a marathon with turtles trying to get to the finish line.

That was Friday. 

And I felt good earlier on Friday. I had gotten great news, but had to stay to get fluids. Then I took some meds that made me jittery and it made me like a crazy person, so they gave me some anxiety meds to calm me down. I was already only going off of three hours of sleep, and had some nausea med (known to make you sleepy) and I felt like I was gonna barf (not a good combo).

On the way home I fell asleep and then when we got to the house the kids were still there with my MIL. Looking and feeling like a zombie, I slowly made my way to the couch laid down and was out in minutes. I woke up and the kids were gone and it was 1 a.m. Then I took more meds and went back to sleep. 

EFFIN TIRED. 

Slept till like 10 a.m. 

Klay took a photo of me sleeping for y'all to see how "out" I was...

Ha I'm kidding. I'd kill him. OK. Maybe not kill him cause I kinda like the guy, but I'd smack him around a bit or maybe I'd just fart on him. Luckily he kinda likes me too, so he didn't take a photo.  

Now it's Memorial Day weekend and I'm away from my boys, AGAIN. I hate it. I'm supposed to stay away from the kids for five days after Saturday's doctor appointment.

Bro has ulcers in his mouth and so do I. Bex seems to be normal.

I just hope I get to see them soon. I miss them so much. It breaks my heart to feel like I'm not a mother to them. I'm not the one who changes the diapers, cares for them while they are sick, I'm nothing. I'm just called "mom," but I don't feel much like one any more. 

I just want to be with them. That's all I want--to be with them. I want to show them how much mommy cares about them. Instead it seems like I'm selfish cause I'm gone all the time and pulling daddy with me because I'm trying to get better. I'm not really pulling Klay, but it probably feels like that to Brody. And I hate that. I wish I could really make him understand. 

It's sad when he goes to his grandparents because he says "where's mommy? She need to get better?"

He automatically thinks I'm in the hospital. He built a "building" out of legos and said he built me a hospital so I wouldn't have to go.

I mean super sad face. 

And he wants to be home with us. He can say it to us now too. He verbalizes that to us and tells us "to pick him up" and that breaks my heart that we can't. I want him to be here. I want him here at home, but it's not a good idea for either of us. 

Beyond just shitty luck with sickness, hospitalizations, etc., someone side-swiped my new ride while Klay was driving on the highway. It was a hit and run and they sped off an exit before Klay could see anything. And then Klay hit a pothole and now has a knot in his truck tire, so we need to get that fixed too. 

It's one thing after the next, but honestly I don't even care about that stuff. When I found out, I was like "ehh whatever. It sucks. Yeah it was my car but whatever, it's a car." 

And that's how Klay felt the other night about his tire. "It's just something else. I'm used to it now," he said. 

I am too, babe. I am too. 

Plus having a life-threatening illness can put things in perspective for you. LOL. At least it has for us.

I was in bed with Klay last night and our feet were tangled and rubbing each other's and you know what I realized? The only thing that's ever smooth in this world are his feet and Beckham's bo bo. 

But seriously, he has the softest feet. Mine? They are like sand paper. And I thought, "I feel bad for him, I know my rough-ass feet have to hurt his silky-smooth-beautiful man-feet." But he stayed tangled up in mine.

He didn't say anything or crack any jokes about my raggedy feet, which happens on occasion. Instead our feet stayed twisted together and I smiled as I drifted off to sleep thinking I was the luckiest girl in the world.

My life may never be "smooth," but I married the man with the softest feet and he doesn't even care that they are wrapped around my dry, cracked, ratchet heels that might cut his precious toes.

Instead he just brushed his feet against mine, told me he loved me and kissed me goodnight. 

He's the only thing that calms this storm and all that surrounds it; him and his nice ass feet.

So now you know the truth... I'm severely pedicure-deprived, so don't mess with me or my sandpaper heels might cut you.

Jealous of my man's feet,

How I Ended Up Back In the Hospital

I went home Friday, and although I wasn't able to share all the details of that until today, I began writing this post Sunday and then all hell broke loose during the week.. So I'm sorry for my lateness. But here is a mashup of my week since Friday.

--Friday, April 24--

I never thought I would be so happy to be home. There is nothing like sleeping in your own bed, around the people you love and being able to be free to roam and do as you will because, well, it is yours.

I literally thought the day would never arrive.

Spending a month in the hospital this time was much more difficult than the last (when Bex was born and I got my first round of chemo). Then, Bex and I were both in the hospital and I could focus on seeing him and spending time with him (when they'd allow me to when I wasn't sick). But it was a different experience.

This time, I loathed the hospital. I didn't want hospital food. I was tired of how the hospital soap smelled that I had to wash my hands with 28334738 times a day. I was tired of looking out of the same window wishing I could just go outside and breathe "real" air. I was tired of the IV pump beeping every 20 minutes or whenever one of my lines kinked and needed fixing. I hated having to ask someone to let me off bed alarm so I could go to the bathroom because I was considered a "fall risk." I don't know if I even told you guys about that night...

My days were long, my weeks were longer and then it literally seemed in possible for me to come out on the other side. I thought I was going to go bat shit cray cray.

But here I am, back at home, with all my boys. And I'm so happy to be home.

When Klay and I pulled up to the house there was a waiting party with balloons, a "Welcome Home" sign and a beautiful newly upgraded flower bed, thanks to my wonderful neighbors who do so much for us.

They've done it all. They've let the dogs out, purchased toys and leashes to take them on walks, they've donated money, they've re-done our flowerbed (making it more beautiful than it's ever been), they've brought us food, mowed our yard, they've been there when we needed someone to talk to, they have kept an eye on the house when we aren't there... And that's only the beginning of a very long, long list.

They are so thoughtful and mean so much to us. I'm so glad they were brought into our lives. We just love you two, Carl and Jana. Thank you for being our rocks during this time. You are and always will be a part of our family now. We don't know how we will ever be able to repay you.

I know the next three months are going to be extremely tough too.

I'm not supposed eat any fast food or food from restaurants, which my taste is way off and everything taste like shit anyway so it doesn't really matter. But when you have three or more doctor appointments in one week, you have to come prepared, and I am not prepared because I have to depend on everyone else to get me prepared (aka go to the grocery, make a meal, and for me to grab it for lunch on the way out).

I can't do anything for three months.

--No vacuuming, cleaning or dusting.
--No changing diapers.
--No dealing with doggy poo and pee. Don't do that anyway.
--I CANNOT be around cats or kitty litter.
--No veggies/fruits without peel on them unless they are canned or frozen.
--And a whole bunch of other shit, I don't remember...

Needless to say, with me feeling like I was whacked with a sledgehammer and completely exhausted, Klay is like a single-parent for the next few. I can feed Bex and try to entertain the kids, but I have to have someone there with me all the time to help me with them.

And I get tired just getting dressed for the day. I'm wiped out.

Plus, I have to take extra precautions to try to not get sick. If I get sick, it could be very serious and most likely will land me in the hospital (where I don't want to be).

--Tuesday, April 28, 1 a.m.--

At 1 am Tuesday morning, I started having severe abdominal pain. The pain woke me up and hit me out of no where.

I thought was having another gas attack like I dd before, but this time it felt slightly different. My tummy (up by my breast bones and around my ribs down on the right side of my stomach) were extremely tinder to the touch and my actual abdominal area (near my belly button and below) were softer and not as bloated as before.

I wasn't sure what was going on. Similar pain that I though may resolve with releasing some gas, but by 7 am and NO SLEEP, I couldn't keep it up.

We already had another doctor appointment scheduled for Tuesday afternoon, but we called and they told us to come in to find out what's going on.

Off we went to the Dallas--again for the the third time this week since Sunday--to the hospital. Of course we hit morning traffic which added nearly 50 minutes to our already 35-40 min commute. And I was in so much pain I couldn't think.

I had vomited twice at the house already and everything I'd eaten the night before between 4-6 had come up and it was not digested at all. I had some peanut butter and a banana, which is high in fat, so they said that could have kickstarted this whole thing, though it was waiting to happen.

Apparently gallstones, kidney stones, etc are hereditary and happen often to women post-pregnancy. So on top of everything else I have going on, I've just added another few stones on my journey to recovery.

I ended up having to stay overnight Tuesday so they could to a CT scan and ultrasound in the AM and then also to keep my pain a minimum.

I did get some heavy, much-needed sleep finally. I slept hard.

It might have been the drugs.
It might have been the fact I'd been awake FOREVER.
It might have been that I'd seen my kids this past weekend.
It might have been I was rejuvenated from my stay at home (though it was brief).

But whatever it was, I slept hard. I was out.

I was so happy to see my nurses though when I came back up to the floor!

--Wednesday, April 29--

After completing a CT scan, my doctor wanted to do an ultrasound as well. So yesterday was quite busy for me. I had to run around and do all of these tests.

The pain had become tolerable but it was still there, so I was OK with that for the time being.

After my ultrasound the doctors said my gallbladder was really inflamed and hazy looking and there were gallstones in there, plus a few in each of my kidneys.

As soon as my ultrasound was finished, they brought me back upstairs. Klay had school so he had to leave, but then the "surgeon" came in and told me, we needed to remove it today ASAP.

So ON TOP OF THE BIG C, I have to have a surgery to remove my damn gallbladder? What are the effin' chances?

Klay was running to CVS for me to grab a few feminine products I've needed (because, oh yeah, I've been bleeding for 5 or 6 weeks). #plugmeup

I have to wear pads to reduce infection-risks.

And then he had to run out to Academy to get a few fresh items of clothes since we didn't grab any in the rush to leave the house from the hospital.

By 3:30 pm, I was being wheeled down for gallbladder-removal surgery.

Insane. I did not wake up early this morning thinking I'd be making a trip to the OR. But I knew I couldn't suffer another gallbladder attack again.

I was under for about two hours or so.

It was a laparoscopic surgery, so there were was incisions made in my belly and three around my rib cage, so the recovery time is supposed to be better.

Of course since I'm immuno-suppressed, it may take a bit longer for me to heal. And they actually said post-operation that is why mine got so bad so quickly. Normally it takes a few days for someone to experience that much pain and for their gallbladder to look the way mine did, and it only took mine 8-16 hours.

When I woke, I was in pretty bad pain. I feel like someone had stabbed me and it was burning. I didn't think I'd be in the much pain post-operation, but I was.

I was that annoying person who wakes up groggy and confused and is saying "give me pain med. I'm hurting, I'm hurting."

Yep that was me--the whiner.

It was past 7 pm, by the time I woke up.

Once the doctor came out to talk to Klay in the waiting room, (and they wouldn't let him back in the OR recovery area), Klay came up to wash our clothes he had purchased and the nice clothes I came up here with, since I was now sporting an epic blue gown with a gorgeously planned out square design on it. #dontbejealous #makeitwork

--Thursday, April 30--

So the surgeon who performed the procedure came in this morning to tell me that my gallbladder was pretty "ugly" and inflamed. I had a few gallstones that were in the canal trying to make their way down to my liver but they got there just in time, but that would have made things incredibly worse. He did biopsy my liver because he said it looked a little nasty too, but my oncologist said that's to be expected with such high doses of chemo I'm

It was definitely the right decision to remove the gallbladder.

Sucky thing is: NO high fatty foods for two-three weeks. #aintthatsomebull

Dammit dude, I'm already having a tough time with what to eat at home, now this too? Shit. I'm screwed. But I am losing weight though, just not the way I would want to do it.

I'm supposed to be on clear liquids the rest of the day. I haven't eaten since Monday around 6 pm. #bitchesbestarvingaroundhere

Honestly though, I haven't wanted to eat. My appetite is not the best right now anyway. But for real though, a bean burrito sounds amaze balls. Just saying'.

I am missing home and my boys a lot. I just want to be with them. And I know this is really confusing for Brody. They are saying that I should be able to go home tomorrow. They just want to make sure that I'm doing OK for a full day prior to discharge. And I get that.

I got a bigger room this time. Go figure. In here a few days and get a bigger room, in here for over a month, get a smaller, more cramped room and bathroom. Oh, hospital logic... is there any?

I am getting up and moving around on my own, which is good.
Mostly, I'm just sore and tired.

I figured you guys needed a hefty update! So much has happened since I last wrote. I'll try to be more prompt this week. Got some more news (good news) to share soon!

OH! My friend Jaycie is hosting a Younique (a beauty product line) in my honor. She is donating all of her commission to me. If you think you're interested in some of their amazing products (I love their 3D Fiber Lash Mascara), visit her page on Facebook here and her Younique product page here. 

You can also watch a video of my review of the 3D mascara (which I did pre-cancer diagnosis and pre-Bex pregnancy) here. Video at the bottom of post.

So please help us out and order something for yourself (while also helping me out too)!

Hope all is out there in the world with you normal folks! Enjoy your days at work, your days with family and your time at home.

Tired, sore and feeling anything "but" sexy in my blue gown,

Miserable Days

You know, people always said that my mouth would get me into trouble.

Well, this time they were right. I've had enough of my mouth's BS.

Mouth, you're killing me.

I'm sure you're wondering, WTF is she talking about now? OK, so here it goes.

------

Painful--that's the word I would use to describe the past three days.

I've not been able to eat anything the past two days. The day before that I barely had a few sips of a smoothie and that was it.

I've thrown up multiple times and why?

Mucuscitis.

I have these sores that developed in my mouth, on my tongue and in my esophagus.#mouthsoresarenotjustforwhores
I'm just kidding.

It's terrible. I couldn't swallow any pills yesterday, so they converted the ones they could convert into IV.

But the ones that they had me attempt to take,  I would just throw back up with some lovely blood and mucus.

By last night, I took one sip of water because I was so thirsty I couldn't stand it. I managed to get it down but 30 minutes later I became super nauseated and puked in a bucket while on the bed (can't sit on the floor or they will label it a "fall"). And while I was throwing up I started having these lower back spasms. I hollered from how excruciating it was. The back spasms are from my bone marrow trying to spit out new cells.

This one was so bad, I threw up blood and bile.
And all that I was spitting up earlier that day was blood. That's it. It was horrible.

Meanwhile I have these sores in my throat, on my tongue and the sides of my mouth, and even down my esophagus.

These past few days have been exceptionally brutal. I've never felt pain like this. It's not like my mouth is sore, it's more like thorns in my throat and every time I swallow they just hit each other and try to send my food, pills or whatever back up.

I also couldn't talk much (or where people could understand me) because I have all of this extra saliva because I'm not swallowing because of the pain. This created an equally frustrating problem for me since no one could understand me, I had to repeat myself over and over again. Fun fact: my biggest pet peeve is repeating myself. I get super annoyed super fast.

I've literally felt like I'm in a horror film--some nastier version "The Exorcist" puking and spitting blood and other grossness everywhere.

I wish there was some way to describe it to you--the pain--but there honestly isn't. It feels like my throat closes or is closed more on one side and won't allow anything down and the pain is just reminding me to "stop trying to eat or drink."

But my stomach is all, "F U throat, I'm hungry."

My body is a bitch. What a P in the A (pain in the ass, for those of you who don't know that expression).

Beyond that, Klay was gone this weekend to the Reserves so it's been difficult not having him around. I'm just tired and exhausted, and I'm actually wanting to feel better or when I do, something happens and I start puking again.

I did just eat some soup, bread, and mashed potatoes and that seemed to go down ok (so far). It's just today has been one of those days I can't keep my eyes open. Between all of the meds they've given me (and they are strong) my head just doses to the side trying to get me to sleep. Then between these mini 20-30 min naps, I have crazy ass dreams and I wake up talking to people in the room who aren't there. And it's really embarrassing when a nurse is there and you say something about a dog and they are like "they let you bring a dog up here?" "Oh, no I'm sorry I was dreaming."

I am an EFFIN mess.

The Doc told me that if I didn't have all this throat mess going on, I'd probably be going home Tuesday (tomorrow). But he's still looking at me hoping I will be getting out of here by Thursday or Friday. I can't believe that. I'm just hoping my throat gets better. That's all I want is my throat to get better.

Plus, Brody is really starting to miss mommy and daddy. It just breaks my heart when he says he wants us to come pick him up. I'm so ready to be with my boys again. I mean who could resist this adorableness?

Those two faces make everything better. I just adore them. I'm so ready for this hospital stay to be done and behind me. It probably won't be my last stay, but let's hope it will be for a long time.


Feeling Mouthy,

Rough Days + VLOG

Today--April 16--has sucked some major balls.

My throat is hurting so bad I can hardly swallow water. #whoisgonnamakeajokefirst

Besides that, I still have a diarrhea, excruciating pain in my mouth and throat, and now a possible bladder infection. I'm hurting today and it's pretty brutal.

On the upside I've had some of the best nurses the past few days. I've been so lucky. Honestly! And it makes the time go by faster with nurses who care, want to get to know you and do really sweet things for you out of no where.

The other thing I got today is Granix which is supposed to help my counts recover faster. Side effects: you feel like you have the flu w/ most complaining about body aches. Can I catch a break?

Then I saw the cutest white dog today. I was going to take it home with me. But they have me on so many drugs that I think I imagined it. These drugs mess with you man. So if you see a typo or some shit that doesn't make sense, I'm going the blame it on the drugs. I can barely make out the words on the screen because of the drugs. But hey, they are working so I don't not giving a shit.

So anyway, I literally can't swallow anything. It's brutal pain thankfully I VLOGGED for you guys yesterday so you're nightly 15-minute train wreck show is on.

Enjoy!



Drained & In Pain,

 

Letter Series Vol. 2 // A Letter To My Donor

Writing a letter to someone you don't know and thanking them for something of this magnitude is a hard task to tackle.

I think I've written a letter to someone I didn't know before. It was probably many years ago and in grade school a few times--a member of our military, a child overseas, etc--a designated pen-pal, if you will.

You probably remember those. The one thing I do know about you is you're around my age, so I'm assuming you remember handwritten letters and good ole snail mail. And after all of this time, of all of the countless letters I've written, if I could choose one to be handwritten, it would be this one.

Maybe eventually I can send you one through the donor registry, but until then I have a lot of work to do... so I guess I should focus there first.

But a day doesn't go by that I wonder who you are and what you're like.

Is she from the US?
Does she live in Germany?
Does she have kids?
What kinds of hobbies she like to do?
Does she want to meet me?
What did she think when she got a phone call saying she was a match?
Why did she decide to become a part of the registry?

I have so many questions and thoughts running through my brain about the kind of person you are.

But now that I've gone through with the transplant and parts of who you are becoming part of me, I wanted to write and really try to explain my thoughts, feelings and gratitude.

I've never dreamt I'd write a letter to you--whoever you are--and say the following, but here it goes:

Thank you for giving me a chance, a chance to live a longer life with my family and friends. 

Thank you for giving me an opportunity to make a difference in their lives. 

Thank you for saving me from being released from the gravity of this Earth too soon. 

Thank you for giving me something that is rightfully yours that was internally and scientifically made for you for your body, and sharing it with me to give me a chance to live longer.

Thank you for giving me hope. 

Thank you for giving my family hope and some peace of mind.

Thank you for taking the time to fill out the registry. Who would have ever thought that there are two people essentially made up of the same DNA--blood or whatever inside--and we've never even met? 

Thank you for taking time out of your life to do this for someone you don't know. It shows how unselfish and thoughtful you are.

Thank you for not passing up this opportunity to save someone's life. I hope that you will want to meet me one day, as I'd love to meet you.

Please never feel guilty if you never want to be contacted. I couldn't imagine giving something from your body--some of your anatomy--to save a stranger's life and finding out it didn't work. 

If that happens (it won't) but if it did, it's not your fault. You tried. You just happened to be the lucky person to have to the inside-goodies to match mine.

And that's what matters; you found that out and you've followed through donating your stem cells and  given me a fighting chance at life. There is nothing more I can ask for than that, truly.

Some people battling this disease don't even make it this far; they never make it into remission. I did it in one try. It seems like I'm supposed to go through this, right? Maybe we are supposed to meet and this is just the way we have to do it. 

Who knows what God has in store for us? 

What I do know is that I could NEVER express my gratitude for your act of kindness. I just wish there was someway I could give back or give back to the community for your act of selflessness. 

I wish I knew what I could do or what to say to you, but the truth is I don't. I don't know what to say. 

I'm sorry for that. 

The magnitude of the possibility of what you're giving me is far too large for a few words on a tiny screen. I wish I could do more. I wish I could say more. I've honestly never been so at a loss for words in my life. And to the people who know that personally have never witnessed that in my 27 years of life. I'm a talker;  I like to talk.

But I truly don't know what to say.

And maybe it's better not to say too much in this case. The simplest "thank you" may be the best. 

Thank you for giving me some more light at the end of my life. Whether it's one minute, one year, two years, ten, twenty or fifty, thank you to you, my donor, whoever and whereever you are.

I will cherish every bit of it and bask in the rays of light. 

Forever grateful & warm,

Burden

Dear Emotions,

I hate you.

My soul feels like it's being drug down a slowly sinking mud pit. If I let it, it will consume me and I will be no more.

I cannot let my spirit fall in here. I will not.

I have to keep fighting and pushing and always remember that "this too shall pass."

Today, though, I emotionally couldn't hold anything in. I saw my boys, I cried. I cried when I went to the bathroom just to give me a moment alone. I cried when they left for the night. I cried in my hands when I went back to my jail cell that's keeping us apart for yet another night.

And I'm jealous. And I'm angry. And I'm hurt.

I'm jealous I'm not having a so-called "normal" life right now with my family. And I know there are people out there battling so much more than what I have on my plate before me, but it doesn't stop me from having all of these emotions.

I'm angry because I feel like I'm burdening everyone who tries to help us out while I lay in a bed fighting this disease doing nothing. I know why I'm doing it (why I'm laying here). I need our family and friends' support to get through these next few weeks, but I'm the type of person I don't like to ask for help--in fact I despise the idea.

If you want help, sure, I'll help you. But don't think for a second I'll just come and ask for help if I need it. I don't know why I'm that way. It's just who I am.

My friend Wanda said it best in a letter she wrote to "The Kidd Kraddick Morning Show." She said, "asking for help was not in Cass's DNA." Click here to listen to me on "The Kidd Kraddick Morning Show."

It's really not. I hate asking for help. I hate having to depend on people to do things I'm responsible for. I hate it all.

I know that right now in this time of need, I shouldn't hesitate for help, but I feel so much like a burden. Even burdening to Klay at times. His life wasn't supposed to go this way--married with two kids in our mid- to late-20s and with a wife who has cancer. He got the shitty end of the stick. And that's not fair.

If something happens to me, he has to start all over again.

This is my life and I should have control of it.
I should, but I don't.
My body has taken control and I'm fighting this fight to live and to gain my control back.

I just pray this transplant works. I know there will be more trying times in the future, but I just want to get the transplant done. The bummer thing about the transplant is that it's pretty uneventful they just fuse the stem cells through my trifusion line. Nothing fancy, no snazzy surgery prep, it's just like a basic blood transfusion.

Womp, womp, womp.

My emotions are just sucked dry today. Nothing is there to shine a little brighter on life today. It's like I got nothing left loaded in the gun. I'm out of ammo... nothing else is in the tank.

I just don't have much in me tonight to try to laugh and smile about anything right now. I want to be home. I want to be with my boys, my dogs and with my husband. That's all I want; and I can't have it right now.

And I feel the burden of not being able to take care of my family the way I should. I should be at home and helping them get ready for bed. I should be helping them brush their teeth and give them baths.

But instead, my eyes fill with tears blurring my vision of the computer screen, until they slide down my face--only to be followed with the multiple sobs.

My life took an unexpected turn at such an early age. I wasn't ready for it. I don't think anyone is ever ready for it.

I have cancer. I'm getting a transplant.

And all I can think to do is to apologize.

And say, I'm sorry for crying. I'm sorry I can't help you, I'm sorry I got cancer and have to ask you to watch my kids for me because they can't come up to see me. I'm sorry for being sick. I feel guilty about that.

I'd wondered what it would be like if something terrible was to happen to me and now I really know. I don't want to know any more. I don't want this anymore.

I always felt lost in the dark for most of my life. Like "that" friend that gets pushed to the side for someone cooler, better or more fun. I was never "the girl" everyone loved and everyone wanted to hang with. I was the one the girls hated and were mean to because I don't even know why. I wasn't mean or never tried to be. But I've had milkshakes thrown at my car, my face marked out in photos around the school, brownies put in my seat so I'd sit them. People who've said "Leave that gum in that chair cause Cass is coming to sit."

And all I've ever wanted is a friend--a true friend--that at the end of the day had my back. But throughout my younger years, my "friends" used and discarded me when they no longer needed me around or if it was better to follow another person or crowd. They got tired of being my friend because people were really mean to them to for being my friend.

I never understood that. I just wanted friends--real friends. So I guess in a pity-self-loathing time of my life I wondered what it would be like if something like this--life-threatening--were to happen to me, would people truly care?

I tried to imagine it. But I couldn't.

And now I'm here. It's not an imagination; it's a reality.
And gosh do I feel stupid for trying to imagine such a thing.

And it sucks for me, my boys and my husband.
And I'm sorry to you three for imagining such a life. I know it was just a thought, but it's come to fruition.

I need you boys to know that if mommy could take care of you, she would. If they would let you sleep up here with me, you'd be here by my side.

Klay, you know I have to send you home for them. My heart misses you so deeply tonight when you're not here with me. And it's nights like tonight I just need to know your near me and I immediately feel better. We don't have to talk, touch, I just need you to be.

But I know how important it is for you to get your time in with our little guys too. They need daddy-time and you need some time to rest at home, away from the cancer-chaos and your meltdown-wifey.

I'm sorry for all of the stress and work that has been thrust on your shoulders the past four months. You have stood by me every second of the way, and it's only made us stronger as a couple. I could never imagine having anyone else by my side for the rest of my life. I love you.

And that's what I am thankful for through this process--my kids, my boys, my friends and family, and the people who've commented, read, purchased t-shirts and supported me through this time.

I know I have people who care about me now. I do. More than I honestly thought did.

And thank you for doing that--supporting me. It really warms my heart and helps me get through days like this.

My brother in law Chad made this awesome video to remind me of all the support I have ready to lift me up at any time. It's a beautiful video and I love it. It's of you guys who posted photos on the day I was getting my transplant to let me know you all were thinking of me and praying for us. Thanks, Chad for putting together such a great gift that I can cherish forever.


I love all of y'all and remember to live life to the fullest.

Happy and sad,

Heartache

Today I've been a walking dead zombie on the outside and the in.

I'm physically there but mentally I can't deal. I'm not functioning. I'm on a one-way track to nowhere; just going through life's motions but not experiencing any of the joy I'm supposed to experience.

I can't shake the thoughts. I can't fight the fear. It's here. I'm in the thick of it. I want to fight. I am fighting, but I'm tired of how this whole thing effects everyone else--my boys, my husband, my parents, my sister, my grandparents, my friends, my family. I hate it all.

My heart just aches so heavily and hard at the thought of being away from my kids. It's killing me from the inside out.

After a rough day away from them, I need to just remind myself what it is I'm fighting for. I know it's hard, but I'm fighting to be with them--to walk with and watch over them as they age and grow in life. And that's what I have to keep reminding myself. It's only two more weeks but it feels like an eternity away.

I'm enduring all of this heartache now and experiencing jealousy that I don't have a so-called "normal" life anymore.

I just talked to them on FaceTime and it did lift my spirits some. It's just when Brody starts saying he wants "mommy to come home" it breaks my heart into a million pieces. He knows mommy is sick. He knows mommy is at the hospital and it's killing me.

I was afraid seeing his sweet face and hearing the sound of his voice, I would lose it and go back down into my tiny, dark hole away from everyone. I've just been distant the past two days with people I know--my friends, my family, my kids. It all seems like too much to process or to try to take in and handle.

It's a lot of hard work emotionally.

I'm up and down, I'm here and there, I'm like a one-woman circus catastrophe waiting to happen. I'm all over the place right now. I'm in a funk, I feel like a zombie because I can't snap out of what is happening to me.

The emotions of this all is what could ruin me. I think I manage the pain well, but it's the emotions that hurt. I just have to know that I'm not going to be up here forever stuck in this room, wasting away one day at a time--a day that I could be spending with my kids and loved ones.

That makes it hard. I see all of the beautiful photos that my friends are posting on Facebook of their kids having fun Easter hunting, and I won't get to do that with the boys because I'll be chained to my hospital bed. And that just sucks. But I will be able to do it with them next year.

But I do love seeing all of the beautiful photos and imagining what your days must of been like. What  went through your mind when you chose your family's semi-matching outfits, how many of you stopped by the store on the way to get some last-minute Easter supplies, how much good food you consumed.

I wish I could be out there doing the same with our family right now, but it's not going to happen.

I just can tell that all of the blood-life that pumps through my veins is draining out of me. I have this poison being cycled through my body, killing off parts of me (my immune system), so they can replace the "bad" parts with "good" ones. I get it. But it is literally life-draining; I don't know if the pun was intended on that or not.

SEE? I can't even make a joke.

My hormones and emotions are very top-heavy and it doesn't matter which way I lean cause it's gonna be a doozy of a fall. I just can't shake it. I need to, but I can't.

I do feel a little better tonight than I have all day (this was actually last night that I wrote this). My mom brought me scrapbooking stuff with motivational quotes so I could work on a little project while I'm up here. And it kept me busy and helped me relax. It was actually just what I needed today.

Then, the nausea hit. And I got sick and sick.

I'm better now, but I just hope it stays that way. It was pretty awful.

I'm starting to feel worst physically, but it doesn't help that emotionally I'm not at my best. I'm dragging my feet everywhere--physically and emotionally--around and I just need help. I just need something to lift my spirits. I need something to know that this is a few weeks of nothing and we are going to move forward and this will be a distant thought from the past. That's what I want more than anything.

Distance from this. Distance from this pain in my heart.

I never thought that I would experience physical heartache, but this really does make my heart hurt. Being aways from the kids and living for two weeks in this room is going to drain me. I don't know how I can make it through this. I'm trying. I'm trying. Lord, I'm trying, but I feel defeated.

Please God, come into my heart and explain to me that this is all worth it in the end. Provide me with the spiritual distance I need from this hospital while I'm still physically in here. I need a mood changer. I need to step up my game. I know if I continue to go down this negative/depressed route, it won't be good. I need a better attitude. I need something to do.

Ok, Cass.
Life is worth it.
It will get better.
You're a fighter, Cass.

You can do this.

Cancer, you can suck it.

Letter Series Vol. 1 // A Letter To My Sons

I just can't seem to find it in my heart tonight.

I know I was meant to battle through this time and for a purpose, but as I look at photos of my boys the "reason" for going through this doesn't bring me solace as I lay in the hospital bed away from them.

My heart and soul are 40 miles away from me tonight, but feel 5000. I can't bare to think about how I haven't seen them since Monday or that they can't come up here to see me everyday because it puts other patients with low immune systems at risk.

I know that life isn't fair. I just can't find it in my heart to push through these feelings tonight. I'm not as strong as I sound on paper [or technically] your screen.

I can push through some emotions and utilize my acceptance for what is, but I can't do it tonight. I can only think of them--my precious babies.

That's all that's on my mind tonight.

I can't help but feel the burden that I'm forcing onto others for having to care for my children that bore into this world. It's not OK with me.

People shouldn't have to care for MY babies. I should be able to do that. I should be able to care for them.

There is nothing more precious in this life than to become a parent, and this disease [or any serious illness, for that matter] can take that away from you.

So here I lay in a hospital bed in Dallas with three more days of chemo left and another two weeks or more stuck in his dungeon. OK, this dungeon is much better than the where I did my first round of chemo in November, but it's still a dungeon if you can't get out into the light and feel fresh air on your face.

I'm laying here... eyes closed and typing away (and yes, I can type with my eyes close because I'm a bad ass). Anyway, ahem, like I was typing with my eyes closed, I'm imagining feeling the air on my face and watching Brody run around outside on a sunny day much like he did on Sunday, the day before I committed to being in this place.

I picture holding baby Bex and kissing the sweetest little nose and smile, I've ever seen. I just want that baby-smell to intoxicate me again. It's crazy that a smell can make everything melt away and keep me calm and content with where I am.

--

[[A letter to my sons]]

Hi, my lovely babies.

Today is day 4 I've been away from you and it may not feel like it for you two, but it feels like an eternity on my end. I miss your snuggles, your smiles, your giggles, and your smell--except for when you go number two... Bro, Bro, you know I'm talking to you. Shewwwwwweeeeee. Stinky poo poo.

But despite what comes out of both of your rear-ends, I'd deal with it to just be home with you again.

Brody, I miss your loud "zombie-acting" skills and watching Bex smile when he hears that the "Zombie is coming to get me."

You two are the most precious things to me. I'm just so thankful that I chose the best daddy for you two. He does everything mommy does, if not more. Probably more. It's more, guys. There I admit it. He does more. He does it all. And he is the best daddy in the whole world, that I can promise you.

You know I may not have known that this was going to happen to me, but I definitely felt something was off in my bones. About half my way through my pregnancy with Bex, I felt a fear in my heart I'd never felt and terror swarmed around me.

Questions popped in my head:

"What if something terrible happens to me or the baby during this pregnancy?"
"What would we do if something is wrong with the baby?"
"What if I leave my Bro behind?"

I feared for the unknown.

But when his cancer decided to show its face to us, it fortunately impacted me and my life and not jeopardize the life of my second baby, boy Bex.

Bex, you don't know it yet or have any clue, but you saved mommy's life when you started to grow in my belly. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been getting routine check-ups and regular blood work done. I wouldn't have found the cancer as quickly as we did if you weren't in there growing inside of me.

Just three days after seeing the hematologist, I went to the hospital because you were kicking and causing spasms in my lower back that weren't normal. You were trying to tell me to go to the doctor to get checked out. And I did.

Essentially, I didn't expect to have you a week later, nor did I expect to get the news I got the very next day--mommy is very sick with AML If it hadn't been for your rocking around like a crazy person in womb, I wouldn't have went back to the doctor that week. Everything about my treatment would have been pushed back another week, another day, another hour and it all seems like too much time when your trying to fight for your life.

It wasn't until you came out and I saw the knot in your cord that I realized I helped save your life too. I had a placenta-hormone issue we discovered early on in the pregnancy that had us already monitoring you closely. There was a chance the placenta could give out before birth and you'd stop growing and getting the nutrients you needed to survive. But kowing that while you were still my tummy, and then seeing the pretzel-tied knot in your cord solidified your reason for being here on Earth as much as mine.

You were supposed to arrive 10 weeks early.
You weren't supposed to go full-term.
That's not who you are, Bex.
You were ready for this world the minute you started to sprout inside of me.
You were never going to wait.
You were going to beat to your own drum and you did, bud.

You pounded on my back to get mommy help--to save me. You did that. You saved me. And because you saved me, I kinda saved you too I suppose. Though, technically you probably saved yourself; just go ahead kid, you can have the credit.

I honestly don't care. But typing this story tonight made me feel much better. Imagining how you came into the world crying and reaching for air. You breathed on your own with no help.

You're tough, little guy. They said you wouldn't be. They said you'd be weak, but you proved them wrong. Your my rough and tough little baby boy.

You were out of the NICU so fast and on the special care nursery and home in five-weeks time.

And your brother has never shown one iota of jealousy. He has been so proud of you from the very first moment he saw a photo of you. He loves his "baby brudder" and he watches out for you all the time.

Brody gets on to me if you're crying and I don't get up fast enough to feed you or change your diaper.

"Mommy, feed baby brudder now!" he demands. "He needs you."

Oh boy, Bro. You both do, in so many more ways that you know. That's why I'm stuck in this dungeon fighting for my life.

I'm fighting for you--both of you. I love you so much.

I don't ever want to leave you, ever. And I won't.
I will be here for you always, but I can't make promises.

All I can do is tell you that you've given me the best gift and the most appreciation for life I've had in my 27-years on Earth. Thank you for that. How could I ever want more?

And don't think I'm giving up. I'm not. Mommy's heart just hurts tonight. I just long to be around your snuggles and watch you smile, grin and giggle. You fill up a room when you giggle, Brody. It's the best sound in the world.

I'll still be there to watch your first football game, to walk you in on your first day of school and I'll probably catch you touching yourself for the first time... (gosh I dread that one).

I know you're gonna hate me for putting that on the FOREVER-lasting internet. Sorry, just the way I roll boys! Mommy has to embarrass you sometimes. It's a right of passage. I've been there, trust me. Plus, by the time you're old enough to be typing things on the internet, computers will probably be a thing of the past... maybe not. But something new will be the latest and the greatest, and people won't remember what a blog was.

That's the reason I want to write you, and share my experiences with you--other people might not remember what a blog was, but I will save these for you to read later in life.

Whether it's public, private or gets lost on the interweb, I want you to know who your mom is in the thick of it. I want you to know that I try to find ways to lighten the mood at any chance I get. Mommy just doesn't like to knee-deep in tears; that's not me. I don't want tears to constantly stream down my face. But there are days I have to feel it and this afternoon was just one of those days for me.

But I promise you, I will always try to find some light in the darkness. It's how we move through this life. And it's how you will move through yours.

That is one thing I know now after having both of you.

Life has purpose.

We aren't a bunch of wandering stars in galaxies; it's a pretty thought, but it's not true. God is there. I've never felt closer to Him. I doubted Him before, now I know he is in my heart.

Our story is proof of that. We've witnessed reason beyond reasoning this past year.

Never forget it, my loves.

With love forever and ever and always,
Mom

Shit's Getting Real + VLOG

OK.
Everyone.
Remain.
Calm.

I have finally got some shit out of me--literally.
And I'm a much happier person because of shit.

So my "Cass Game Face" is back on. I'm ready to kick some cancer ass and wore my "Refuse to Sink" shirt my sis got me a while back.

BIG NEWS.

Beyond the poopsie, I did shower today. 2 for 2!

BUT the shower was effin' freezing and I had NO hot water. Plus, I tried to figure out the shower head and pushed this red button that said "PALL" not "PULL" but "PALL."

I pushed said fancy red "PALL" button and the shower head shot off and hit me in the forehead.

Who the hell knew that hospital showers could be so dangerous. Now I have a mark on my forehead. Pure sweetness... sigh. Only me.

In other "Cass" news, they pushed my transplant day back a day. So I will now receive the donor stem cells on Wednesday, April 8 instead of Tuesday.

Apparently the transplant is a very anti-climatictic deal (pretty much gonna be like a blood infusion or something), so it's not anything super incredible happening that day anyway. I mean potentially it could be saving my life, so that's pretty big, but the process itself is pretty lackluster from my understanding.

"Well, dango, dango," as my husband would say.

I don't know where he gets sayings like that from. He's kind of a nut bag--or he has one! LOL... I guess two... TBD.

Actually he says he has "two nuts in one nut bag."
Ahem, now that we have that cleared up, I suppose we can move forward.

This post is very anatomy/bodily fluids-driven I feel like.

If it grosses you out, I'm in a hospital for 21 days so suck it up, buttercup!

Klay said this post is gross. I say "EFF IT. It's cancer, it's real. We all poo; it's life. Get over it."

On a non-bodily-related issue, I do miss my kids. Klay took Bex to his first doctor appointment without me and he almost weighs 12 lbs. My little chunker. The only concern for him is finding a formula better for his tummy. He has BM-issues... like me. Apparently I just have shit on the brain cause every where I go it turns into shit. Maybe this is just shit post and I should just give up while I'm ahead.

I do truly miss the boys though. It's really difficult for me to think about them and how they will have to understand all of this one day. I think that's what really gets to me is trying to explain why mommy had to go through this and watching their reactions.

And to end this bodily-fluidly full post, I need new undies! My shit did get real today, just not where I wanted it to. #cancerhatespanties #victoriassecrethereIcome

Here's the latest and the greatest VLOG from yours truly.

[enter corny music in 5, 4, 3, 2... VLOG]

My heart is full but my bowels are ugly,

Day 1 VLOG: Stem Cell Transplant Update from the Hospital

So hey guys!

Here's my VLOG within a BLOG...

I got here yesterday so I guess it's technically "day 2." It was a rough day yesterday and I've been really frustrated, annoyed and not feeling too perky so I'm just in a SHIT mood.

Sorry bout the cursing, but it's truth. It's not a fantastic update or anything that took too much time, so don't expect much. Maybe on the next one, I'll go all like Steven Spielberg and earn an Oscar. But until then, it is what it is.

So here it is... My first loner VLOG from the hospital. I'm balding out and I have a runny nose, but it doesn't get more real than that. #donthate

If someone would give me some IV meds that would be make me sleepy, I would be a much nicer person. I'm just not there. These nurses probably hate me, but I can't help it. I've been hungry, hurting and sleepy for the past two days. Feed me and knock me out. Is that too much to ask?

Please share, comment and pray for me and my family during this time. We really need all of your prayers and I need your encouragement to get through the next three weeks.

In other news, I'll be ordering this tee this week. #thuglife

One hungry mama,

No Sleep Tonight

***Please note this post was written two weeks ago, and I was just having a bad day. This was pre-wreck and pre-lumbar puncture.***

My chest is tight, almost like a heavy rock is sitting on it.
I have restricted breathing.

Something isn't wrong medically, at least I don't think so. It's my brain that has my body all twisted up in knots.

It's 11:41 pm and I'm wide awake... wide awake thinking.

Normally I don't go to bed before 11, but Klay has to get up crazy early in the morning, so I was trying to get as much sleep as possible before Beckham woke up for a late night feeding.

But somehow, even after taking an Ambien, I'm still awake.

My mind is racing and tonight is just one of those nights I feel legitimately scared.

I read an email earlier about my stem cell transplant. It seems that the transplant won't happen until mid-April because my donor is unavailable 'til then.

So then I start thinking... what if the cancer comes back before then?

I can only do the transplant while in remission. I'm scared it will resurface and then everything will be put on hold.

And my mind keeps going...

You're going to have to be away from your kids for a while.
Your kids are going to be bouncing around from house to house while I'm stuck in the hospital.
The road to recovery after the transplant is a long one--one year or more, they say. But for most up to six months, I have to be super careful.

I just attended a transplant class to learn more about the transplant and procedure along with a whole list of things they will tell me I can't do.

We learned a lot, but the main thing I realized is we are going to need a lot of help from my caregivers. Klay is going to school, working full-time and goes to the USAF Reserves one weekend a month. He does all of these things for us. The school helps better his future, but we also get some money for rent while he attends, and the Reserves is strictly for us to have good insurance, which we clearly need right now.

I feel so bad because I can't contribute. It would be absolutely incredible if somehow I could grow this blog and make even just a little money off of it. Though, if I don't make money, it's not going to change how or the reasons for me blogging. I will continue to do this as long as people are reading. I love doing it--money or not.

But you know who all of this is unfair to when it comes to the transplant?

My kids.

"Mommy will not be normal for a long time," I have to tell them.
"Mommy will be in the hospital for a while, so things are going to be different for a long time."
"Mommy won't probably be able to take care of you when you're sick, if you get sick before mommy gets better."

For three weeks, I won't be able to kiss them goodnight.
For three weeks, I won't be able to sing my "good morning" song to them.
For three weeks, I won't say "OK, Bro. What's for breakfast?"
For three weeks, I won't be able to bathe them, change diapers, or snuggle with them when they cry.

And that's just a guess for how long I will be in the hospital. It could be longer if there are complications and maybe a few days shorter if I just kick some straight up transplant ass.

I just hate it. I feel like a caged animal. And I haven't even started the transplant process yet.

And then I start thinking about the lumbar puncture I'm supposed to have (where they will run chemo up my spinal canal and brain to make sure no leukemia cells are hiding out). I was told yesterday that I would have to have that procedure w/ chemo done four times. FOUR.

My chest is getting tighter right now.

What if something happens to me?
What if my kids are left without a mommy?
What if I'm so sick I don't get to do normal things with my children?
What if the cancer comes back? I know I said that already but what if it does?
The "what if's" can drive anyone crazy.

I know I can't dwell on that, and I know I must stay positive, but some days I just want to cry.
This can't be my life. It can't. It just can't.

Why would God do this to me?
If it was to save my children from any type of illness like this, I'm all for it.
But I just can't understand the WHY, the reasoning, and I know no one does but Him. But why?

I know I will get a lot of comments telling me "only God knows," but it still doesn't make this fair. It still doesn't explain "why me?" It still doesn't explain why my family has to go through this.

Did I do something wrong in this life to deserve this?

These are some of the questions and thoughts that keep me awake at night.

My life has been turned upside down in three months.
My family's lives have been turned upside down too.
I'm so tired all time.
I'm so physically tired that today I could barely keep my eyes open and was just praying Bex would sleep for a while so I could nap. But then I have Brody to take care of, and it's not fair that I'm napping while he's watching cartoons. I should be playing cars with him on the floor or being active with him in some way. I should be taking him outside to see the sun because it's been way too long with all this crappy, cold, icy weather we've been having in Texas.

I'm tired of the appointments; there are so many appointments.
I hated going to the doctor before, but now I really hate it.
I'm there two-three times a week, at least. And next week, if platelets are high enough, they will schedule the first lumbar puncture (this post was written two weeks ago, so I just completed my first lumbar puncture yesterday, March 19. I'll talk more about this in a later post).

I'm tired of driving all the way out to Dallas. I'm tired of having to leave my kids at home because they aren't allowed in the office because other patients are neutropenic. I'm tired of only getting out when I have a doctor appointment. Otherwise, I stay home with the kids because I'm too tired to take them both somewhere. And any exposure to strangers or groups of people puts me at risks for infections.

I'm tired of taking this Nexavar pills. It make my neck and face all bumpy/rash-like and I have to take it so many hours before I eat or so many after. Coordinating my food around that medicine is the most infuriating thing because I like to snack. (But since I wrote this post, my doctor took me off! Virtual high-five!)

I just cannot believe all of this.
It's so difficult to process.

The only way I can stay sane sometimes is to joke about it.
Just to really just laugh about what is going on.
Just laugh about being bald.
Laugh about having no eyelashes.
Laugh about looking like a bruised banana.
Laugh about trying to get a "cancer discount" every where I go.

I just try to get through this in any way I can.
Tonight is just one of those nights I'm letting myself really feel the weight of it all.

I honestly don't care any more that I'm bald; that doesn't hold me back anymore. Whatever. It's who I am now; it shows the struggle I'm going through.

I just want a normal life again.
I want to be with my kids.
I want to be with my husband.
I want to be with my family.

That's all I want.
And I want this fear to go away, so I can breathe again.

I'm eagerly waiting to start the transplant, but I'm equally dreading it at the same time. I dread being away from my boys, from my dogs, from my home but I know I have to do this to get better and have the best chance at this.

Right now, they have me scheduled to go into the hospital March 30 to get a tri-fusion thingy put in my chest to infuse the stem cells through. I'll talk more about this and the timeline of the transplant in a future post. I've learned a lot about the process since the class this Thursday.

I was very nervous about the lumbar puncture and chemo, but now the anticipation for the transplant is keeping me awake at night.

I hate how much I won't be able to contribute to help out because I'm the one going through this mess. I hate that I won't be a "normal" Cass for my kids and family. I just want to be normal again.

On the plus side, I'll be getting some good drugs soon when I get admitted in the hospital... that should help me get some legitimate rest. Amen for some good drugs!

Drug me up and knock me out,


PS. The next week I got into a wreck. I guess things can get worse, but I feel a lot better mentally right now. I'm ready to kick some cancer butt and move on from this part of my life.