The Organ Formerly Known as Spleen

Posted by emmett on February 1, 2011

So, here we are, it’s late Tuesday evening, and I’m just awaiting the last few ticks of the clocks big hands to give me the go ahead for my last dose of various medicines for tonight. The last couple of days have been surprisingly interesting. Sunday, I was still climbing out of the hole, able to NOT be in the hospital, but still slow on my appetite, and having some pain (which is a good thing in this case). We made last minute plans to dust it out of Houston Monday early afternoon before we were potentially caught by the snow storms moving in everywhere. Our flights from Houston, to Nashville, originate MUCH earlier on in their trips, like, Chicago, The midwest, you know, all fun places where the planes could get delayed for hours, or cause cancelled flights on this end. We made it home in one piece and that brings us to Tuesday.

Today (as was yesterday) has been an interestingly good day. The further I get from this procedure, the more energy I seem to have, and I don’t mean just bouncing back, but I mean based on where I was before the surgery, to where I am now, there is a definite increase in how I feel, and in how much energy I seem to have to make it through the day. It’s interesting. I wonder if this procedure, really IS causing the upward trend in my platelets and red blood cells, and if so, then it must be contributing greatly to the energy factor. For instance, today, I drove over to meet wendy at school, went to the Y for a little bit with her, and then ran out again tonight to grab groceries, in addition to living it up with Quinn ever since he has gotten home today. Normally, I would be extremely wiped out, especially after not sleeping well last night, and I probably wouldn’t have tried the solo drive in my truck-honest.

It’s exciting for me, to be able to have energy, to be able to DO things, and to be able to really function again. even though I haven’t been on chemo the last 3 weeks, I was still sleeping a lot, getting run down easily, and just not able to hammer it out over the big picture of the day. So needless to say, I am stoked to have energy, to be able to run errands, to be able to get out a lot more, to be able to do lunch dates with wendy when Quinn is in school, etc. etc. The double edged sword side of this, however, is that once we consider this procedure “recovered from” and start chemo, it’ll be laying me out flat again, and knocking me down into the world of extreme rapid changes in energy, day to day, moment to moment. But I also know, that not starting up with chemo again is a foolish plan. I am just relishing the time I have right now in being able to DO.

I feel like I spend a lot of time waiting. I’m not good at it. and I know in waiting, there is a call to be still, and I am not good at that either. Even when more or less i feel forced to be still (i.e. being laid-up) or feel forced to wait (i.e. the weeks between chemo treatments or CT scans even) all I can think about is what could I be DOING, what could be accomplished with this time right now, how could I be impacting someone else, or encouraging others . . . thus, making me somewhat grumpy when I am laid up, low energy, etc.

In that same vein, I do find myself now being absorbed by, and addicted to, the formation of our NPO status, and what it would look like. Casting out vision statements, mission statements, laying down the grid upon which to lay the road. I am excited about being around long enough, to be able to personally make lots of people aware of all that is “Esophageal Cancer”. I am excited about partnering with researchers, hospitals, cancer centers, corporations, organizations, to promote even MORE research into this disease, to promote new thinking, and funding for that thinking and research. trust me, there is a LONG way to go before we get to the realization of some of these goals. I pray that the Lord will heal me so that I can be here to be an advocate for many years to come in this arena. I really can’t convey how excited I am about this. Giddy might be a good try . . .

All this being said. I also can’t thank you enough, for continuing to strive with us as we battle cancer. it is a long, and wearying road, and it often feels lonely. I can’t express my personal gratitude enough over your prayers you have prayed for us, over meals you have cooked for us, over donations you have sent us to help with expenses and my now lack of income, over shoulders to hug and cling to, over text messages, email messages, facebook messages, blog comments . . . I can’t convey how much this helps me, mentally, spiritually, emotionally . . . and how very, very . . . very effective it is in reminding me, reminding us, that we are not alone, and that there are so many willing and ready to help. Thank you. I weep sometimes, just knowing how strong, and how wide, and how deep of a network of believers and friends there are to shoulder us during this time . . . to carry us, for almost an entire year. Thank you.

Sweetness

Posted by wendy on February 3, 2011

In some ways, getting Emmett the splenic embolization has been like getting my husband back. Don’t get me wrong, Emmett still has cancer; he still takes a lot of medications on a regular basis, and he still has a lot of physical limitations. But wow, does he have more energy! This has been a sweet, sweet week. Emmett has gotten to really play with Quinn for extended periods of time, get out of the house on his own without too much fear of crashing, and get out of the bed for most of the day.

When Emmett met me at the Y yesterday to walk a little, I was astonished. When we went out to lunch afterwards I was thrilled. When Emmett suggested we go to community group yesterday, I almost passed out. Even I have forgotten how much cancer has changed our lives. Just last week Emmett was spending most of the day in bed. Getting up for meals would make him nauseous, and running short errands was about all he could handle. So I am thankful for this sweet time together, for moments of normalcy that I will never again take for granted.

Unfortunately that will change once we start chemo. We still haven’t heard a timeline from the doctors, but we’re hoping for early next week. Emmett’s CT scan last week was mixed, though I’m waiting for the official explanation from our doctor (we only got a printout) before I post about the results. We hope this means we can continue chemotherapy, and we hope the embolization was effective and will allow Emmett to recover more quickly during these next rounds. In the meantime, we’re cramming as much life as we can into this week and enjoying each other as much as possible.

Love to all-

Monday, Monday – The Weekend in 3 – Being Just Plum Thankful

Posted by emmett on February 5, 2011

So it’s late Friday night, and usually I would be grumpy about being awake, except my wonderful wife let me crash EARLY tonight, like 6:45/7:00. I slept till about midnight, where I woke up, and took meds, since it was time, and figure I would scrap out a little post to give you some more fun and exciting details of what the next 3 days are going to bring to the table!

Today, Wendy and I and Quinn, ,made the all too familiar trip to the Vanderbilt/Ingram Cancer Center for routine blood work to send to Houston. They wanted to see what the numbers were like, if the procedure had been helpful at all, could we start chemo, etc. We found a couple of hours later that my platelets, which had been bouncing between mid 90s and upper 80s, but never clearing the baseline 100, were now at 238. How’s that for cool and exciting!?! We have decided to attribute the increased energy levels to these MUCH increased numbers. i mean seriously, we can’t ever remember a time they were this high during the last YEAR. so we’re pretty excited. We heard from the Houston nurses that those working on our case all did a little happy jig for us when they heard the news as well!!

Now, because the numbers are so good, they want me to jump on Chemo starting tomorrow. which normally we’d be jazzed about, however, I asked (and received) clearance to push it back until Monday morning. Why ? oh do let me explain !

We still aren’t sure WHEN this chemo actually kicks in and starts hammering the living daylights out of my energy/mental state, etc. we haven’t ever gotten a clear picture. and now, with numbers being super high on my blood counts, that could also change how hard it his, etc. etc. For this first time in perhaps 6 months, I am actually being afforded the opportunity to play Percussion this weekend, Twice. I get to hit the studio on Saturday and lay some tracks for a couple of projects that a friend of mine (David Spencer) is currently working on and wrapping up. let me sidetrack for half a second and mention just how much I LOVE studio work, and creating percussion parts, and on top of that, how much I LOVE working with Dave Spencer any chance I get!!

Secondly, on Sunday, I have the opportunity to be on the Worship team at Grace Community Church, where we attend. I have missed being able to lend my talents and to be a part of this team. It is something I have done as much as possible since we have moved to nashville. I would come off the road, from some long tour, and i literally, would be begging to play the first sunday I got back, and sometimes, as many sundays as possible before I had to head back out on the road. Helping to facilitate worship, alongside so many great believers, is an honor, and a blessing, and plus, everything falls into place there. It’s one of those things I feel called to do. so I REALLY miss it when I am not able to play.

Also on Sunday on afternoon, we will have the vision casting meeting for actually digging in and starting the wheels turning on turning TeamEmmett into a Non-Profit Charity, who’s main goal will be to raise awareness for Esophageal Cancer, whether that be locally here in town, statewide at cancer meetings, Regionally or even Nationally. That’s the plan thus far. But don’t worry, At the heart of it all will still be Wendy and I, and our continuing journey that you are so faithful to walk with us. The blog’s not going away, the cool TeamEmmett Shirts and whatnot will still be here, and you can still donate to help us through these rough times if you feel so led. We’re just adding a bigger component to it all, and I can’t tell you how excited it makes me, and how giddy I get talking about it, just ask Wendy, or Nicki, who heads up everything that is currently now TeamEmmett.

And then Monday, Praise the Lord, we get to start chemo again, and starting hammering away at what has been battling inside me for some time. I am so extremely grateful, so blessed, this past week, with energy, and with opportunities to do things that resonate with my heart. I can’t really stop saying Thank You at all, be it thanking God for all of His miraculous dealings, for coordinating so many things, for causing so many things to work together for my good. Or thanking or doctors and the incredible staff at M.D. Anderson, who are for us, and are behind us as we battle forward (and are just as excited about the NPO stuff as we are!). Or thanking everyone who have helped us to be able to get to Houston and back for treatments, tests, and procedures, for those who have been with us while in Houston when we are so far from home, and thanking those here who ferry us to and from the airport, help out with Quinn, who can be very fun and exhausting at the same time!, for those who help out with taking care of things like our mail, our house, surprise cleanings before we return, and groceries in the fridge to boot. I am also so thankful for our parents who drive up and back tirelessly, to spend days with us helping with laundry, cleaning, Quinn, meals, me (when I am flat out of it) and leave us feeling like royalty in such a less the desiring situation.

Thank you again to all of you who send notes, letters, emails and comments. Especially to Barbie and Emily Nelson, who have been sending me cat cards/letters since this has started, and it’s been almost daily that I have a cat something in my mailbox. It’s Humbling to know we have friends who care so much about us and love on us so well, and know our needs, sometimes before we do.

So please, Stand alongside us once again. This Monday I’ll start the next round of Chemotherapy. If yo have Team Emmett Shirts, Break them out and wear them. If you have wristbands, then make sure they’re all nice and prettied up! Clean out your TE water bottle once more and stand with us as we continue to wage the next chapter of this battle against the VERY unwelcome cancer whom thinks it can keep hanging out with me. Break the dress code at work, wear a TE Shirt!! Don’t have any Team Emmett gear yet? Grab some!! it’s going to be a long fight still, so you’ll have plenty of opportunities to wear it with all of us! And if you working on collecting the entire set of TE shirts (as I am out to do these days!) then sign up for the Team Emmett 5k, come run with us here in Nashville on April 2, or choose the Remote Run option, and when you register early, you’ll be receiving a special one time printing of the TE 5k shirt (which has a killer TE logo that I am jazzed about!)

I’m looking forward to hearing from you all, and seeing you decked out in your favorite TE gear on Monday! shoot a picture with your cell phone, have a friend do so, post it to the TE Facebook group or at least tag it so I can find it from my Facebook wall!

Just think – Fighting cancer never looked so good, or felt so good, right?!

Starting Chemo (again)

Posted by emmett on February 7, 2011

So Today I started Chemo. I have no idea what round I am on, and I am in no mental state to figure that out either. However, today, was not what I would like to think of as a poster start to this round. It was a rough night, spent dry heaving, a rough morning, with some vomitting, a lunch with a dear friend, and then I came home, and threw up, and spent the rest of the day in bed, mostly sleeping. I was able to be up around 6pm so I could snuggle with Quinn on the couch, watch some veggie tales with him, and then read him his night time books. it was something I was glad to have been able to be up and about to do, nevertheless, it was a rough day for me.

I am praying that tomorrow will not be as bad, that I can get up, be with quinn more, help out more around the house, and so forth and so on. This chemo has never hit this hard this fast, but we think that a) with me feeling so much better than normal, and b) running a weekend that caused lots of exhaustion that those compounded led to today’s end all effects. Hre’s to hoping all the sleep today, what I plan on getting tonight and tomorrow morning, will allow me to be more able to do basic things again without cringing, or dry heaving, or anything else.

Thank you so much dear friends for your prayers, and for supporting us through these rounds of chemo. I know I appreciate those who check in on me, and even more so, those of you who check in on wendy, and help her out some. It helps me rest a little easier knowing I’m not entirely dead weight during these rounds of chemo -

Thank you again friends -

Update

Posted by wendy on February 11, 2011

So when our life isn’t resembling a melodramatic soap opera, it comes pretty close to a really good sitcom.

This week we’ve had some of both.

We started out last weekend with a jam packed weekend. Emmett was feeling good enough to be out of bed almost all day (that hasn’t happened in a very long time), so, for better or worse, we filled our days with friends and meetings and family time. It was a breath of fresh air to function almost normally. Early Sunday morning, though, our house got skunked. literally. I woke up at 2 am to the overpowering smell of skunk. As Emmett so quaintly put it in the morning, “it smells like a skunk exploded in our crawl space.” We loaded up his percussion equipment to play at church, and the odor had even sunk into his drum stool, so he got to smell it off and on during church. I formally apologize to anyone who hugged me last Sunday. I’m sure we had some lingering eau de skunk in our clothes. So that afternoon, in our 50 degree heat wave, we aired out the house, checked the crawl space, and looked for any signs of dead skunk. Unfortunately, it seems to still be alive. I’ve smelled it outside a couple more times this week, but not again inside, thankfully. The hidden blessing in the stink, though, is that Emmett and I got a lot of laughs out of that skunk, so many in fact that I’m almost thankful it happened. Almost.

Then came Chemo Monday. And well, I can count on one hand the number of hours Emmett has been out of bed since Monday. He’s had a very rough time. Ironically, having a higher cell count seems to make this chemo a little bit worse. He has thrown up a lot, despite the numerous nausea medications he is taking. He’s slowly climbing out of the funk, and we’re hopeful that a more severe beginning might indicate a quicker upswing as well.

Emmett has been too nauseous and tired to write, and I’m going full throttle with work, Quinn, tax season, and starting the NPO process. This week, I’ve been struggling. Not so much because I have a lot on my plate, which I actually enjoy, but I have noticed that when Emmett tanks physically, even as the result of chemo, life becomes overwhelming. Ever since we lost our first child, I get these rare but severe panic attacks and then I’m fine for a long time. Ironically, I’m long overdue for one, so I keep waiting for it to creep up on me. Monday and Tuesday I felt like I was on the edge of one, but lots of prayer and intentional focus on Christ has kept me sane. So you can pray for me and my sanity, both of which are fragile right now.

Thank you again for your love and prayers. We’re blessed by so many amazing people.

Changes

Posted by wendy on February 12, 2011

Reach one arm across your chest and feel the back of your shoulder. You can probably feel the bone, but there’s also a nice smooth outward curve over the bone. That part of Emmett’s shoulder is concave, pushed in like those dimples on the top of a restaurant to-go cup. With all Emmett’s throwing up this week, I’ve done a lot of sitting nearby and looking at him. His arms, once ridiculously hard from all the drumming, are softer and slender. His hands, once calloused from all his percussion work, are now as smooth and soft as Quinn’s. I get a little sad watching him so weak. He really needs to stop throwing up. Spacing out meds and food and hydration in such a way to keep him from throwing them back up is challenging at best, and we can’t get enough to stay in him.

Pray for us these next few days for Emmet to stop throwing up. The slightest internal disturbance makes him vomit, so we’re praying that he will stabilize enough to work on regaining his strength. That’s our goal for this week, regaining his strength. Thank you so much for joining us in prayer.

Turning a corner perhaps?

Posted by emmett on February 14, 2011

So, as of yesterday, I started feeling fairly perky. I woke p about 1:30 in the afternoon, and honest to goodness, I stayed awake about 11 hours straight!! The longest stretch since before this round of chemo I think! And then to add more fun to it, this morning, I woke up about 7am, no dry heaving, or throwing up, a smooth transition from sleeping to waking. The first in what seems like an eternity! I actually am feeling pretty good now, contemplating meeting wendy for a valentines lunch somewhere (i know, I’m feeling so good that solid food sounds great!)

I know I probably have a few days before I regain strength/endurance to last on a daily basis like I want to, but at least I’m not throwing up, or almost worse, sleeping straight through the day, a week at the time. Thank you so much for your prayers, for your continued prayers, and for standing with us in the gap. We are truly blessed by each and everyone of you !

Um... Wow. Yep. That’s about all there is to say about that.

Posted by wendy on February 14, 2011

So it was an interesting weekend.

We had a somewhat last minute visit from Emmett’s Uncle Gary and his two friends, Tommy and Carey, who blessed us beyond description by fixing one of our exterior walls. Then, after spending Saturday night throwing up (apparently I haven’t been sympathetic enough towards Emmett, I needed some personal experience), my mother took care of Quinn by herself all day Sunday so that I could laze around in bed, and then she cleaned my kitchen floor after Quinn went to bed so that I could enjoy Emmett really being awake for the first time all week. Have I mentioned how much I love my mother? She is an amazing servant, always doing more than I ask so that I can get a little more rest or time with Emmett.

But this morning, I walk into work, having completely forgotten about Valentine’s Day (Emmett and I pinky swore in the hospital last year not to celebrate it, see last year’s blog posts), and my school room is decked out. I mean seriously decked out. Wrapping paper on the doors, quotes on the walls, flowers, confetti, envelopes with gift cards and money, and an absolutely indecent amount of candy (which my students were very happy to help me eat, how thoughtful of them!).

I will say that there were a few tears shed. I am overwhelmed by love, and not just because it’s a silly day when we’re supposed to be mushy. I am humbled over and over by how much people love us, how well people take care of us, and how much I need to learn to be like all these amazing people in my life.

In reading through the gospels, I have noticed over and over again how much Jesus pours himself out for others, to the point of being able to sleep through a storm in a boat. We usually think about how, being the Son of God, Jesus wasn’t worried about the wind. But have you read what Jesus did before he got in that boat? Jesus had taught and healed all day. People pressed in on him so much that he had to get in a boat to get space. As recorded elsewhere, Jesus had probably gotten up early to pray, and then spent the day teaching and carrying other people’s problems. Can you imagine the exhaustion? I’d probably sleep through the storm, too. And Jesus did these things without thanks. In fact, many people walked away because their hearts were hard and their eyes were dull. Over and over again he was distressed by their stubborn hearts.

No matter how many times I read the gospel, I am amazed by Christ’s revolutionary compassion despite the thankless crowd. Both Christ and the people around me spur me on to love without thought for myself, to be passionate for truth without judging others, and to see people as they truly are, broken in need of a savior. May we all have such a love in our life.

It’s been a full year...(Emmett's thoughts)

Posted by emmett on February 17, 2011

For starters, Here is the Initial Post, describing everything from when we first found out it was Cancer, and the tests that followed. http://teamemmett.com/?p=8

I honestly don’t know what to think today. It was a year ago, that we found out that I had Stage IV Esophageal Cancer. It was like a nightmare, a bad dream, a huge conglomerate of feelings . . . it was scary, so so scary. I was told by one doc, I had maybe 6 weeks to live . . . I was told by another I had a few months to live . . . I was eventually told by an oncologist that I had 12 – 18 months to live. They were going to be extremely satisfied if I even made it to the 12 month mark . . . it felt weird that I was already being written off, especially by those who are supposed to be helping you, and helping you fight to have as much life as possible.

So today, I am blessed, seeing the one year mark. I am humbled that The Lord has seen fit to grant me at least this much more. We can say that we celebrated every holiday/event to the fullest, everything that could be celebrated, was, especially since we have no idea of knowing when The Lord might see fit to take me home. We had another year of birthdays, for Quinn, for Wendy, for Me, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New years . . . all the big ones, we were able to celebrate, and it worked out rather well, actually, that for the msot part, I was blessed enough to be feeling well enough to celebrate each of these occasions.

Part of me know rests in Christ, knowing that He is truly the one who will call me home, or heal me. It’s not up to the Doctors, or their timelines, or their theories. Part of me, also has the nagging feeling that I’m just living on borrowed time . . . more so than before. It’s still hard, living with a disease that has no cure; that has very little research to support any kind of treatments. The Lord has presently led us to some amazing doctors in Houston, who are fighting for us, who are eager to help us, and who really do have our best interest at heart. Its encouraging, to have such an incredible team at hand, but there is still the nagging feeling that people really don’t “beat” this cancer.

Usually I can keep such thoughts at bay, but when Chemo sacks me out, and continually keeps me down, or wiped out, or bed ridden, it is harder to fight back those thoughts. every pain, muscle twitch, throw-up session, etc becomes suspect. I wonder if this will be the round of chemo that I don’t bounce back from . . . and so the rabbit hole just seems to grow, and envelope me, my psyche, my heart, everything. And typically, like the fair weather believer I have been on many occasions, When I start to feel better, I have renewed hope, and vigor. It is just so hard to keep that in perspective, when I am so, down, all the time from the chemo.

I am still holding out hope, that The Lord will give us many many years to come together here at home. That I would be able to celebrate more of Quinn’s birthdays, that I would see him start preschool, Kindergarten, Grade school. I hope that Wendy and I will be able to spend loads of time together, year after year, that somehow the cancer would be knocked back so far, or completely out of me, that I would be able to start playing drums again on a regular basis, and if nothing else, that I would be around to see just how far TeamEmmett: NPO goes, as well as some of the other things we are putting in motion.

I Still Hope.

I guess that is what gives me courage sometimes, is the Hope of what is to come, the Hope of who I am, and the Hope of what Christ has already done for me. It’s been a rough year though, don’t get me wrong, and I don’t expect things to get any easier, especially if we’re basing them off of this weeks “rebound” which lasted all of one day, and might, just might, be peeking through to today as well. We’ll have to wait and see.

Thank you, for your continued prayers, your continued support, for the way you Love on my Wife, the way you Love on Quinn, and the way you Love on me, mainly just by helping me take care of them. Thank you friends, so very very much.

I’m looking forward to writing again next year, and seeing what changes have happened!
blessings -

emmett

1 year

Posted by wendy on February 17, 2011

I’ve been ordered by the boss to write a one-year anniversary blog, so here goes nothing.

As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been demon-possessed begged to go with him. Jesus did not let him, but said, “Go home to your family and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.” So the man went away and began to tell in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him. And all the people were amazed.” (Mark 5: 18-20)

Almost exactly one year ago to the minute, I was waiting for Emmett to come out of his first Endoscopy. I still remember the doctor’s words. ”I have to prepare you,” he said, “It’s bad. It’s cancer. There is a very large tumor in his esophagus. We took a biopsy to confirm, but it’s so large there’s nothing else it could be.” I cried for a long time. Emmett was still drugged and unaware. Every five minutes he would ask me what was wrong, and I would have to explain again what the doctor had said. I had to leave him in recovery to make a few important phone calls, but I ran back to him as soon as I could. At that point there was nothing else we could do except wait for more tests to see how bad the news was.

The fifth chapter of Mark has the stories of Jesus healing three people, the demon-possessed man, the sick woman, and the dead girl. Each of these people was marginalized by sickness, each one had been given up on. In many ways I feel closer to these three characters than many people I know. In many ways we move through life like it is made of molasses while others seem to sprint ahead of us. We are “those people” you know who have cancer, whose lives revolve around medicine and feeding schedules, who have to make choices between showering or playing with Quinn because there isn’t enough energy for both. Forget leaving the house. That isn’t even possible most days.

Yet in great sickness, there is also great mercy. Like the sick woman in Chapter 5, we become desperate to draw close to our savior and he responds with the same tender compassion. Each day we are stretched thinner than we could imagine, but there is still peace. We cry more than we thought possible, yet, we are renewed every day by the tender compassion of our Lord. We wonder what tomorrow will bring, but there is no room for anxiety. We are continuously broken and poured out, but always refilled.

Jesus hasn’t taken Emmett home yet, so while we wait and pray, we will continue to tell how much the Lord has done for us and how he has had mercy on us.

Winded

Posted by wendy on February 20, 2011

This week has been another rough one in the Stallings house. On the plus side, there was very little vomiting today. A little hacking and spitting, but no vomiting. On the down side, to rejoice over no vomiting just shows you how rough our week has been. Today Emmett was able to make it out of bed for a couple hours to a Team Emmett NPO meeting. It was the most he’s been out of bed in a while. He hasn’t been out of the house in a week, and he’s feeling a bit stir crazy. We’ve both cried a lot this week. It has been a struggle to hold onto hope when the chemo has knocked him down so hard. We were hoping for a quicker recovery time and more good days after the splenic embolization, but chemo is chemo, and it’s never easy. So keep praying for us. Someone asked me today what we needed. I have no answer. Right now we need what only God can give, physical healing and relief from suffering. I know how blessed I am to be able to say that’s all we need. There are a lot of needs in the world that aren’t met, so we are thankful to be loved so well.

On another note, we received the official paperwork from the State of Tennessee. Team Emmett is an official non-profit corporation in the State of Tennessee. That means we can file the IRS paperwork this week to get our tax-exempt 501(c)(3) status (processed in 6-12 months). That means you can expect big changes on the website in the coming months as we move our blog to the background and Team Emmett to the foreground. It also means big changes about donations, etc. We’ll explain all that soon.

In the meantime, lace up those running shoes people! Get in training for the team Emmett 5K, whether you run here in Nashville or remotely, let’s all use this chance to get moving and enjoy the beautiful spring weather coming out way!

Love to all. goodnight.

Ten Signs You Know Your Husband is Wallowing in Self-Pity and Needs Another Butt Kicking

Posted by wendy on February 26, 2011

10. He stays in bed for 18 hours straight and then tears up because he can’t sleep any more.

9. He won’t shower.

8. He won’t eat a home-cooked meal, but he’ll eat fast food.

7. He won’t get out of bed to have dinner with me and Quinn, but he’ll get out of bed to eat fast food.

6. He complains that he doesn’t get out of the house, but he gets annoyed when people come visit.

5. He’s watched every season of every version of Law and Order.

4. He winces when Quinn runs into the room or displays any sort of energy.

3. He’s mastered the art of sighing and groaning and wincing so that when he has to get his own glass of iced tea from the kitchen because I can’t do it for him, I get a sufficient guilt trip while he satisfies himself that he is the martyr.

2. If he isn’t complaining, he’s watching netflix or asleep.

1. He says he doesn’t want to get out of bed because he doesn’t feel good.

I hate writing blog posts that I know will make Emmett angry. I’ve spent all week being sweet and tender. I’ve spent all week coaxing and bribing and tempting and trying to get him to want to get out of bed. I’m making myself sick trying to make it easy for him to push himself. But he won’t. And he doesn’t really have a good excuse. His cell counts are up. He’s a bit anemic, but that is his own fault. He won’t eat anything unless it is fast food, and I have driven all over the city to get him food. Then he doesn’t even eat that. Yes, he has cancer, and that means every day is going to be harder for him than other people, but as far as I can tell, he’s only interested in fighting cancer if it’s going to be easy. He’s only interested in getting out of bed if he can guarantee he’s not going to throw up. He’s only interested in living if it doesn’t really cost him any effort.

And so, it’s time for another good, thorough butt kicking. Who’s with me?

Don’t get me wrong, I love Emmett, very much. And I understand his dilemma. When you feel lousy all the time, it’s hard to know when to push yourself and when to rest. When you never really recover from the chemo, it’s hard to push yourself to gain strength, especially when you know chemo is right around the corner again. When you have constant mucus from the chemo that makes you feel like you’re choking and want to throw up, it’s hard to get out of bed or eat or do anything, even if you know that just getting our of bed will help you feel better. For Emmett, getting out of bed for a few hours is more difficult than anything we’ve ever done. He has every right to give up and wallow in self-pity.

Emmett listens to me, but often he doesn’t hear what I’m saying until I post it in a blog. So Emmett, if you’re reading this and it’s working, you’re probably pretty mad at me, but know I love you and I want you to start fighting again. I want you to turn off Netflix, get out of bed, and choose be a part of our family. Quinn misses his daddy and I miss my husband. Please get out of bed today.

Catching you up

Posted by wendy on February 28, 2011

I’m not sure who missed the memo, but life is not supposed to resemble a bad lifetime movie complete with cheesy acting and ridiculous melodrama. That person needs to be fired!

So my previous blog post led to some good discussion between Emmett and me. He was a little upset with me, but we talked. I realized I hadn’t been giving him enough credit for some things, and he realized that he could be doing more with Quinn and me even when he couldn’t get out of bed. I had planned to write a blog post about the sweetness of reconciliation, about the beauty of walking together in the process of sanctification in the midst of difficulties, about the humility of true love.

But life happens too fast. Before I could get those thoughts out, we were on our way to Houston again. This trip was not the forefront in our concerns. We had planned to talk with the doctor about postponing chemotherapy a week. Nothing major was planned, so it was just going to be a quick trip to Houston and back to prepare for chemotherapy next week. Ha! Everything was going well until this morning. Emmett went to get out of bed and his feeding tube site started bleeding profusely. Just like back in January, Emmett couldn’t stop the bleeding. So off we went to the MD Anderson emergency room. They re-sutured a vein, cauterized the entire tube site, and sent us on our way to our appointment. It was the best ER experience we’ve had, hands down. After some very long delays, we saw the doctor in Houston and went on our way back to Nashville. Driving home from the airport, though, Emmett started bleeding again. A lot. So we went home, repacked the hospital bag for a local trip, checked out Emmett’s tube site, complained a little to each other, and headed off to the ER. We’re currently at the Vandy ER waiting to see a specialist.

So it boils down to the fact the people aren’t really supposed to have tubes come out of their stomachs. Emmett’s had his tube now for about a year. The stomach acid comes through the tube site and irritates the sin around the tube, never really allowing it to heal. The skin gets rubbed raw and vessels near the surface open up and bleed quite a bit. You can treat the bleeding, but not really the cause of the bleeding. Technically, Emmett doesn’t need a feeding tube. Since the tumor in his esophagus is gone, he can swallow fine. But ever since our marathon hospital stays last spring, getting Emmett to eat requires an extraordinary combination of coercion and bullying. If he didn’t have cancer you might think he was anorexic. So the feeding tube has been a life saver, allowing us to keep him nourished and hydrated. Even with the feeding tube, though, Emmett’s lost about 20-25 pounds in the last year. So we have to decide whether or not to keep the feeding tube. If we keep the tube, there is likely to be more bleeding. If we get rid of the tube, we are likely return to the ER for dehydration.

There’s really not a good answer here. Medicine has come a long way, but many people are under the mistaken impression that there is a fix to everything. A feeding tube is a good fix for not being able to eat, but it’s not meant to be a permanent fix. The chemo Emmett is doing is working reasonably well, but there is no fix for some of the side effects, like excessive mucus or numbness and tingling. So we’re coming to the point in Emmett’s treatment where we have to make a lot of choices with no good option. Today the doctor brought up stopping the trial as an option. That is not the best choice yet, but it made us realize just how far along we are. We are in uncharted territory. Hope is harder to find, especially for Emmett.

So pray for us. We’re tired. very. very. tired. Our spirits are flagging. We have a lot of tough choices ahead and little energy with which to face them.