Friday, December 24, 2004 1:53 PM CST
8 years ago yesterday, I didn't want Dave and his brother to drive to Portland (4 hour trip each way) in the snow just to pick up a table. I wanted him to stay home with me. Since I was so witchy, they decided to leave really, really early, the plan being to get back early, so I'd have less to complain about. So I was barely out of bed when I got the call from the state patrol...."your husband has been taken to the hospital...." Took me an HOUR to find the hospital, finallly they said he'd be fine, come get him. His brother just needed a couple of stitches where the coffee thermos had hit him. Whew. My dad drove me to the hospital a few hours away from home.
When I got there, Dave said, "Something's growing in my head." I thought he'd lost his marbles. I asked the doc, "Is he okay?" The doc popped the CT film over the lights and said, "Not really." The tumor, visible to my untrained eye, was huge, the size of a tennis ball, and pushing Dave's brain to the side. "We noticed his eyes were unequally dilated, so we were ruling out a head injury, and found this." I shook my head...."That has to come out!" I said. "You're right about that the doctor said. I looked at my incredible, amazing husband, young, healthy, strong. It was inconceivable. Unacceptable.
Thus began our BT journey. Dilantin, decadron, surgery, seizures, radiation, dismal prognosis. The whole package. Thankfully that package also included friends, family, prayer, delivered meals, fundraisers, concerts, hugs, hand-holding and six and a half years of perfectly clean scans.
We're in the midst of battle again. We baked a cake yesterday and Dave celebrated his 8th birthday. He celebrates his 42nd birthday on the 28th, and has an MRI that day. We're hoping for another miracle.
We've been given 8 wonderful years. Kate was just a baby when Dave was diagnosed. Now she's 8 1/2 years old, in third grade, and every bit the Daddy's girl she was meant to be. Our sons are growing into fine young men, every bit the image of their wonderful father, following his inspirational example, learning from his continual presence in their lives.
We have been blessed on this rollercoaster ride. There are so many people to thank, so many who have been our feet when we couldn't walk, our voices when we couldn't pray. You're all amazing.
Happy Birthday, Dave!
8 years ago yesterday, I didn't want Dave and his brother to drive to Portland (4 hour trip each way) in the snow just to pick up a table. I wanted him to stay home with me. Since I was so witchy, they decided to leave really, really early, the plan being to get back early, so I'd have less to complain about. So I was barely out of bed when I got the call from the state patrol...."your husband has been taken to the hospital...." Took me an HOUR to find the hospital, finallly they said he'd be fine, come get him. His brother just needed a couple of stitches where the coffee thermos had hit him. Whew. My dad drove me to the hospital a few hours away from home.
When I got there, Dave said, "Something's growing in my head." I thought he'd lost his marbles. I asked the doc, "Is he okay?" The doc popped the CT film over the lights and said, "Not really." The tumor, visible to my untrained eye, was huge, the size of a tennis ball, and pushing Dave's brain to the side. "We noticed his eyes were unequally dilated, so we were ruling out a head injury, and found this." I shook my head...."That has to come out!" I said. "You're right about that the doctor said. I looked at my incredible, amazing husband, young, healthy, strong. It was inconceivable. Unacceptable.
Thus began our BT journey. Dilantin, decadron, surgery, seizures, radiation, dismal prognosis. The whole package. Thankfully that package also included friends, family, prayer, delivered meals, fundraisers, concerts, hugs, hand-holding and six and a half years of perfectly clean scans.
We're in the midst of battle again. We baked a cake yesterday and Dave celebrated his 8th birthday. He celebrates his 42nd birthday on the 28th, and has an MRI that day. We're hoping for another miracle.
We've been given 8 wonderful years. Kate was just a baby when Dave was diagnosed. Now she's 8 1/2 years old, in third grade, and every bit the Daddy's girl she was meant to be. Our sons are growing into fine young men, every bit the image of their wonderful father, following his inspirational example, learning from his continual presence in their lives.
We have been blessed on this rollercoaster ride. There are so many people to thank, so many who have been our feet when we couldn't walk, our voices when we couldn't pray. You're all amazing.
Happy Birthday, Dave!
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