Team Emmett 5K Results Posted

Posted by Adam on April 3, 2011

Thanks to everyone who came out to the 1st annual Team Emmett Courage to Conquer 5K yesterday. The results are posted on the 5K page. We will be sending out a survey to all the registrants so please give us your feedback! Thank you for being a part of this event and helping to raise money to increase awareness and raise funds for esophageal cancer research. By joining us on the 5K course yesterday, you have joined our Team.

Thank you,
The Team Emmett 5K Race Committee.

very brief update of the weekend

Posted by wendy on April 6, 2011

wow.

The race was amazing. Emmett was able to attend and was greatly encouraged by friends and family out to support him. It was a special blessing to meet so many new faces who had heard the announcement on the radio or seen flyers around town. We hit our goal at just around 500 runners (amazing for a first race), and there were people running as far away as South Asia and California. We loved the pictures and updates we were sent. Thanks you so much for being a part of the team!

A huge thanks to Megan and David Shifrin for organizing the event. I heard compliments about their stellar organization and gracious spirits from just about everyone. Not that I’m surprised because they’re pretty awesome people, but it’s nice to know other people agree. Thanks also to Nicki Silverman who headed up the massive marketing push and all the volunteers who came out on race day. This is one small step towards conquering esophageal cancer. Thanks for joining us in our baby steps!

After a very physically demanding weekend for Emmett, we had another couple of tough days at the hospital. Emmett went in Monday to see a nurse practitioner at Vanderbilt about the fluid on his lungs. He got a transfusion on Monday because his blood counts were low again and then got about 1.5 liters (3 ish pounds) of fluid drained off his lungs. They think there was about that much still left in his lungs, but they can’t drain too much too quickly because it can be dangerous for the lungs to re-expand so quickly. Although he could breather easier, it took Emmett all day and night to get used to breathing with both lungs and catch up on his rest. So we may go in and have more fluid drained sometime in the near future, but for now, he’s enjoying sleeping.

Quinn started preschool yesterday. He had a marvelous day yesterday. But this morning he had a 30 minute meltdown that made me late for work and ended in tars for everyone involved. He was bawling when I left him at school after I loosened his death grip enough to run out of the room while the teacher held him. It doesn’t help that we forgot his blanket this morning. So today was a bit rough. Prayers for his continued transition would be appreciated. I think he’s going to love school, but it still broke my heart to leave him there crying this morning.

Well, now that Quinn is in school and Emmett is taken care of, I have a week of work and house chores to catch up on. So you won’t hear from me for a couple days. Keep praying, though. We are definitely held up by those prayers every day.

Tender discipline

Posted by wendy on April 11, 2011

Disciplining a child with firmness and love is an art form.

Unfortunately, I’ve never been good at art.

As Quinn sat in timeout for the second time yesterday morning, within an hour of waking up, I figured it would be another rough day. Although Quinn has handled the transitions well, he has definitely acted out more these last few weeks. I can’t remember the last time we had tantrums of this magnitude for this long. Maybe never. I have noticed, though, that there comes a point with Quinn discipline doesn’t really work. Sometimes I just have to grab him and hold him until he stops screaming and starts crying. It’s sort of like snuggling a hydra (one of those mythical monsters with lots of angry heads).

It occurred to me this morning that just perhaps God has been doing the same thing for me lately. I mean, I have been in a foul mood. Not a “cover-it-up-with-air-freshener” kind of mood, but more of a “call-in-the-exterminator-to-get-rid-of-the-skunk” kind of mood. I suppose it started with the worst spring break ever. The lowest point happened during the 2nd all-nighter in a row I pulled in the hospital. It was the first time since Emmett has been sick that I have really gotten mad at God, and to top it off, I wasn’t so mad because Emmett was sick, but more because I hadn’t slept in a couple days. He probably should have struck me dead, but instead he graciously gathered me up in his arms and just held me.

For a couple weeks now I’ve been out of my mind with exhaustion. We start to turn a corner, and then Quinn gets sick or Emmett needs to go to the hospital or we start a new routine with Quinn or…or…or…. I’m not really sure what I mean when I say being held by God during this time. My quiet times have been scarce and without deep revelation. But there is peace. And I do keep putting one foot in front of the other, so I guess that’s something. Maybe you can see it when we went to the ER for the second time in two days and I pulled my 3rd all-nighter in three days, and instead of cursing God, we ended up giggling most of the night. Or perhaps you can feel it in the sweet love of a friend who came for 2 weeks and washed my dishes and did my laundry and played endless hours of Batman so I could nap or go to the gym. Or maybe you can see the Lord’s tenderness when your sitter finds this really awesome job she can’t turn down in the same week that the spot in the preschool you’ve been waiting for becomes available.

It is encouraging to know that when we are at our ugliest, the Lord is often at his gentlest. When we deserve rage, we are met with incredible tenderness. Of course, we must come to him in love, as a child to a parent, throwing ourselves upon him because we are aware of our own helplessness. The paradox of love allowing suffering is always a mystery, but I am learning that suffering with hope is full of grace. May you see that grace in your life this week.

I'm no Superman

Posted by emmett on April 12, 2011

So this past week, was definitely a silent week for us as far as blogging. We were settling into new routines with Quinn’s school, learning how to function as a unit of three again, and trying to take advantage of any and every opportunity that I felt good to hang out as a family. The plus side is there were no ER visits or super stressful moments. That’s always a blessing.

As many of you may know, this last trial chemo we were a part of had some pretty intense side effects which started showing up more prominently in the last month or so. Some of these things include some loss of mobility in my left foot and leg, making it harder for me to walk, swelling in my ankles and lower legs, extreme hair loss and then just random things related to digestive tracts and such. It makes ignoring the Cancer, or at least blocking it out from time to time much harder when these things have become so prevalent.

The latter half of this past week was also spent doing some walking, in stores, or back and forth in the house, just trying to rebuild muscular coordination, and trying to regain some of the lost mobility. It was mainly done in little spurts here and there, taking breaks, and not pushing it too much, so as not to crash on myself later. Saturday was a different story. We were all up earlier than normal, and we decided to run some errands, not to mention I also did some tidying up at home, so there was lots and lots and lots of walking. I knew that doing little by little all week had paid off some when Quinn told me I was walking fast though the parking lot. it made me laugh since I was still moving slowly, just faster than I had been in a while.

By Saturday evening, after an impromptu dinner date, and a late evening of cleaning up and prepping things (like meds and beverages) for the night, my legs were killing me. It hurt to walk on them, it hurt to move them, it just plain hurt. Sunday morning I was throwing up mucus junk again (which I hadn’t done in at least a week) and it hurt to get out of bed. My ankles and legs were still swollen from the day before, and so I had to take a day of bed-rest, to make sure I wasn’t going to do any damage to myself by pushing through the pain. It was a crushing blow for me, to not go to Grace for Church, since I felt well otherwise. I also felt like I had taken about twelve steps backwards. which is always REALLY frustrating. On Monday, I was hit with what felt like, I was starting a round of chemo. I had some mucus junk again, I felt nauseous all day, I also slept most of the day, from being just plain tired. It was debilitating, and it reminded me again of what I was dealing with; a disease that has no rhyme or reason, a disease that doesn’t play by any rules, it bends the rules actually, in favor of itself. It adapts to whatever we throw at it after a spell, and whatever we throw at it, is also doing damaging things to me that after a while, just plain hurt.

It was, or is I should say, a humble reminder that I’m not superman, I can’t just bow my head and push through, I can’t just sleep it off, or take an extra round of tylenol, and this is still something I am not used to, even after battling this for over a year now. Before Cancer, I didn’t get sick, I could go days on sleep deprivation, I could power through just about any body ailment long enough to get to a place where I could take care of it, or rest . . . and now I am dependent on medicine every so many hours in order to be able to function on a daily basis, not to mention the chemo meds I have to take in order to stave off this disease so I can keep breathing and living day to day.

I wish I could say I was learning humility in large quantities, since I deal with this daily, but I’m still surprised by every instance that sets me back, or lays me flat with no explanation. It still messes with my head. Fortunately I have an amazing wife, who yesterday, when I was near tears because of having to lay down due to increased nausea (again) and I was telling her I had non idea what had brought this on, she simply said ‘well, it’s here now, so we’ll just deal with it.’ More comforting words could not have been spoken to me at that moment. I have been blessed immensely through this ordeal with her presence, with her servants heart, helping me in the middle of the night or whenever situations arise, and with how much she demonstrates her love through every action and word.

I know this has been a somewhat rambling post, but lately this is what my headspace looks like. It’s muddled, confused, there’s a lack of clarity and direction and it feels like I am in constant fog. It helps to be able to ‘talk’ through it, or write out whats bouncing around in my head. Hopefully this provides some insight, or if nothing else, gives you a good laugh over how disjunct my brain is! Thank you again for your love and support. For sending us notes in the mail, for sending random gifts, for random meals, and most importantly your prayers. It brings me to to tears whenever I think about just how many people around the world are praying for us. Your continued prayers for my compete healing, prayers for Wendy’s rest and ability to function at work and at home, prayers for Quinn as he goes through so many changes with schools, and schedules, prayers for our household to get (and stay) healthy so as to not complicate things further, and prayers of course for abundant Grace, Mercy, and peace. Thank you for linking arms, holding hands, and praying with us. Thank you for standing with us and holding us up when we are weary . . .

Thank you friends.

Still No Decisions

Posted by wendy on April 20, 2011

So we’ve gathered information. A lot of information. And we’ve put out another round of questions that we’re waiting to hear back from. So there’s not much to say right now except that we’re still in the decision-making about future treatments. Emmett is still spending most of his days in bed, so Quinn and I don’t get to see him much. The other night when I put Quinn to bed, he asked me, “Daddy slept again all day?” It made me want to cry. Emmett had actually been out of bed some while Quinn and I were at school, but Quinn hadn’t seen his dad awake at all that day. So pray for Emmett to both have energy and self-discipline to join our family. Pray for me to love Emmett well, which I often struggle to do.

The Discipline of Waiting…

Posted by wendy on April 25, 2011

Sometimes you just need a children’s Bible to set you straight.

Easter weekend was an interesting ending to a long time of reflection. Sunday night, I read the Easter story out of Quinn’s Bible to him before bed. His Bible is set up to tell the main stories of the Bible while focusing on the search of God’s “forever king” (Jesus). It does a wonderful job of showing how the whole BIble points to Christ. But I was particularly struck by the Easter story because it included a small chapter between Christ’s death and resurrection. In it the people were scattered and waiting, confused about what had happened. The people had misunderstood Jesus over and over, and he had not yet explained why he had to die. This small chapter in Quinn’s Bible reminded me that the people were feeling defeated, abandoned, and hopeless. They probably questioned whether Jesus was really the Christ; they may have feared what it would be like to live without clear guidance; or maybe they were just really disappointed because life looked so different than they had planned. Yes, Christ is risen, and that is cause for great celebration, but that small chapter about those people who were waiting, who were (do I dare say something this blasphemous?) disappointed in Jesus was the most powerful image from the whole Easter story.

I also had the opportunity this weekend of spending some time with a large number of old friends, some of whom it was a blessing to be with because Christ is so beautifully evident in their lives, but I left the weekend mostly sad because of the absence of Christ in so many lives. Lately I have been surrounded by so many stories of brokenness from students, friends, and relatives. I’ve seen hearts once on fire now dry and stale. I’ve watched people make decisions in the name of “happiness” that will clearly only lead to misery. It breaks my heart. I’ve thought on my own struggle these past weeks to keep going, knowing how often I’ve failed to love Emmett selflessly, and I realized that all of us are really in the same place. Sometimes when a close friend might ask how the day is, I might joke, “Well, I haven’t run away from home yet.” But the temptation to run away because I’m tired of waiting on Jesus is so powerful that sometimes I just pray for the grace to wake up and keep going in faith.

We are waiting on Jesus. Yes, I believe he has risen from the dead and conquered sin once and for all, but the story is not over and we have to wait and watch some piece of that story play out that is so tiny it hardly seems to make sense in the big picture. And the temptation to be disappointed in Jesus is HUGE because our life is not what we want, because we do not feel the victory of Christ but rather the humiliation of his suffering. It’s like we say, “Jesus you haven’t given me the right job, a spouse, the right spouse, enough money, health, better self-control, etc, and so I’m going to take matters into my own hands.”

And then there is Paul:

Philippians 3: 7-14:

But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God on the basis of faith. I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead.

Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

To want to know and share in Christ’s sufferings? Is he nuts? To rejoice in losing all things? He really is nuts. Yet when I think about my love for Emmett, I am reminded that I have lost many things (without too much grief) and shared in his sufferings willingly and joyfully (in hindsight at least) because I love him. And if I know Christ himself, not just the pathetic group of people who meet on Sundays and try to be nice and good, but if I know the savior of the world who loved me so much he took on my punishment, should I not be spurred on to endure much more? I pray that I won’t have to endure famine or nakedness or peril or swords like Paul did because frankly I think enduring much more right now just might tip me over the edge of sanity. But I might have to endure these things or maybe something worse, like being single or poor or unattractive or bored or unappreciated or disrespected or unloved or unnecessary or irrelevant or any number of circumstances that tempt me to doubt God’s love for me.

It is for the person, not the idea, of Christ who is my Lord and true husband, that I can lose everything I hold dear, whether tangible or intangible. I can clean out Quinn’s closet and finally relinquish my disappointment that we will have no more children. I can accept that Emmett spends large portions of time held physically captive both by his disease and his treatment and love him despite his frequent inability to love me back. I can, though it breaks my heart, willingly give back my husband, my child, or even myself should he call any of us home. Because my savior’s eyes look upon me with unashamed love, I find not only the resolve, but the pleasure of walking humbly and broken, beginning to really know that the riches of this world are filthy garbage in comparison to knowing Christ.

And so, in this tiny sliver of time that still makes no sense in the grand story, we still wait and pray for more faith. And somehow, we find Christ in our waiting and perhaps that is the real answer if we have eyes to see.