Always A Runner

Layne got out of bed earlier than I did today. It reminded me of days gone past. He used to be consistent about getting up early enough to exercise before heading over to work (and before that campus). I got used to a guy who considered himself a runner. It was just part of who he used to be. He still has the spirit of a runner in the marathon of life he's engaged in right now. But, the early morning exercise sessions are no more. There are no more plans for the next event. A 5K used to be for the day's workout and a t-shirt. There were also other events that were a bigger deal. He ran the Salt Lake marathon the year before he found out about his cancer. He was scheduled (but never made it) to participate in a Ragnar the day after he was scheduled for his surgery to remove the cancer and part of his colon. He enjoyed some races that were 'triathlons' (in quotes because of the shorter distances - he likes to bike, but never was a fan of figuring out how to breathe while swimming). Since he's been diagnosed, he's been involved in a 5K and a bike race - both done through Huntsman to raise funds for research to fight cancer. He's also been a great help to our boys in encouraging them with their exercising/fitness. He's into making sure the girls are active as well. But, the current scenario is that the boys are working on their personal fitness for scouts. Thus, the reason he is helping with a specific goal of theirs at the moment. He used to exercise with them - modifying what he used to do. He doesn't even do that anymore. These days it's an accomplishment to actually go over to the Rec. Center with them. There are times I've taken them instead and they do the workout on their own. I will always be grateful I had a chance to see Layne in action...to see the fighter cross the finish line.

Another Clinical Trial?

Last week, we met with the oncologist here at Huntsman. They're doing some testing to assess whether he qualifies for another clinical trial. We have another week or two of waiting until the results are back. This trial will have him doing chemo on a weekly basis. There might have been some mention about three weeks on and one week off...something like that. It would be located at Huntsman so that would be a huge plus (as apposed to out of state). It seems it's all just wait and see.

Full Plate

There are so many things to write. My issue is that writing blog posts are not the only thing I'm doing right now. Life is a bit busy. I'm attempting to be a cancer caregiver, do some 'end of life' planning, take over all responsibilities that we're used to two people doing, homeschool four kids, figure out/take action on income decisions, keep on top of projects for the house/yard, and of course - as everyone knows it's important to take care of yourself as well. Right? So. Kind of busy. There are times I just want to put the plate down and pick up a book.

I keep thinking that if I just plan better, I'll be able to get more done. The only thing is - I go to plan after everyone else is in bed and I fall asleep on the job. Time to revise that plan of attack. Onward and upward.

Time to pick up the plate again. (Or, in this case, time to go put the bread in the oven.)

Mother's Day

Layne asked me what I wanted for Mother's Day. I told him that I wanted the father of my children to be around for another Mother's Day. Reality is upon us and I'm doubtful that I will get my wish. Although, I do not want a year of watching him be in the pain he's been in for the past week. I would prefer to have him be done and more comfortable - even if that means he's somewhere else. So, in gearing myself up for next year I will be focusing my thoughts on eternal families.

Wait and See

It's been a week since all of this happened. We're still not sure what's next. Layne will need to speak with his oncologist here at Huntsman. He was scheduled to meet with him in conjunction with a treatment next week. Obviously, the infusion isn't going to be happening. He's already spoken with someone there and it might just be that he keeps his previously scheduled appointment.
An option to consider would be another clinical trial. Last time we were there, Dr. Garrido asked Layne if he'd be up for getting some paper work going in order to start another trial. That way, if/when something came up, he would be closer to being ready to make it happen. Hmm...I wonder if he knew something.:} We'll see how it goes. Again, it's another 'wait and see' just like everything else has been for the last three years.

A Little Confused

The flight seemed longer than it really was...or maybe it seemed much too short. I texted that I had landed before I even got off the plane. He called and we talked about options. I wasn't feeling so great and wasn't thrilled about turning around so I could do what I just did all over again. I talked with one of the gals with the airline. She didn't really care that my husband was no longer getting chemo that day and I didn't need to be in Texas. The logistics she told me about seemed like too much to work out for the difference it would make in our travel plans. I talked with Layne again and then headed out to wait for him to pick me up.
As we had a chance to talk - we discussed his appointment and figured out what we were going to do next that day. He was a little confused about what had happened at his appointment. When he told me about it, I found myself a bit confused also. The results of the scan were that the tumors they were monitoring were smaller. Wait. Isn't that good news? Isn't that what we were hoping would happen? There were other (less significant) tumors that had grown bigger. How do some get bigger and others get smaller when they're all being treated the same? Why does that matter if they are not the items you're monitoring? He had also shared a couple of things about how he's been doing/feeling lately. That information impacted the decision. The gal in charge of the clinical trial stated 'declining health' as a factor in stopping the treatment. That one I was a little more clear on because it's been obvious to me the last little while. He's had more fatigue, more pain, and less drive to do things. She told him that if it were just about the minimal growth they would have probably continued. This one was a little confusing to me too. Why did this have to be the time he told her how he really felt? (I know, you're supposed to do that. I don't fault him. I'm just curious as to how it fits into the scenario.) This is the guy that can be doubled over one day and yet tell the doctor a couple of days later that he's had some 'discomfort'. And, when asked about the pain level he responds that it's at a two or a three. What? Like I said...a little confused. But, whatever.

Beginning With A Text

The past few days have been full...full of information, full of doing, full of thoughts, full of emotions, full of conversations.

I don't have to time write all of it right now.

Maybe I'll start with being on an airplane and getting close to putting my phone on airplane mode. I think I was responding to a text - someone asking about results that I did know yet. I noticed a text from Layne..."are you there?". He must have sent it while I was boarding. By the time I had finished my other text there was another text from Layne. It said "call me". Given the circumstances, that wasn't usual for him. I was about to text him and let him know that I was on the plane and not able to talk - I was going to suggest that I call him when I landed. Before I was able to finish my text there was another, "call me". At that point I decided I'd better find out what was going on. Something didn't seem right. I called - the connection was terrible. I had no idea if he could actually hear me, but I told him that I was going to hang up and try calling again. I hung up and noticed a "try again" message. He was obviously anxious about getting a hold of me. I continued with what I was doing and made the call. The connection was much clearer. He asked about where I was and told me that he wasn't getting chemo and I needed to figure out what I wanted to do (regarding when to travel back home). I was sitting by a window seat and turned around to face it. I used a quiet voice to ask if that meant the tumors had gotten bigger. He told me that he was done with the trial and that he would tell me about it when I got there. My eyes suddenly felt wetter than usual and I put some effort into staying in control. We then quickly decided what was going to happen when I got into Houston. He was going to pick me up and we'd head back to the Franklin's home and figure things out from there. We said good-bye and I called the shuttle company...twice...technical issues...again...to cancel my reservation. I was flustered and a bit panicked by then. The calls were taking longer than I thought I had. By the time I had finished we were taxying down the runway. I was glad I didn't need to talk with anyone. The guy next to me seemed nice and like he would be up for a conversation when he sat down. But, he kind of let me have some space once he overheard something about tumors getting bigger. It's a fact...the word cancer can be a conversation stopper.