the details

Everyone shows up here out of love for our family - we're so grateful for that. Having said that, everyone needs different information to process what's going on. 

Some people show up here for the esoteric love story.

Some people show up because this was supposed to be a family travel blog  - joke's on all of us there I guess.

Some people show up for the details - the specifics - the questions that everyone seems to have. This post is for you (and quite honestly for me, so I don't forget).

What we're dealing with:

Rico's cancer was originally classified as a grade 3 astrocytoma.  A grade 4 would classify this thing as a glioblastoma - the worst of the worst. After some extensive DNA panels the neurology oncologist says that it is more of a 3.5. He says that (typical of Rico) this one sort of defies definition. They actually spoke about his case at a national brain tumor conference last week. 

Of course they did. He's had this for a month and already he's the unique case. We were told that this one sort of "falls into the cracks and they're not quite sure how to classify it."

F-ing fantastic.

Oh - and also, we're still hoping those two completely unrelated sarcomas don't come back. We're barely hanging on here - God help us if that comes back. (I mean, God help us anyway please, but especially then.)

What will his treatment be?

Aside from the resection of the tumor from the right side of his brain, he will head into radiation treatments at the beginning of next week. (Thankfully the Mayo radiation center is very close to our home.) He'll also be starting courses of oral chemotherapy and have scans every month to see how all of that is working out for him. He will continue to have some physical, and occupational  therapy to strengthen his body and mind.

When will he be home?

Hopefully June 11. We're counting down the days

How's he doing?

Not great. He's dealing with a lot right now.  He loves visiting friends and family. He loves life so desperately -thinking about anything else is heartbreaking. He did promise that he would continue to look for at least one beautiful moment each day. Today was me breaking the rules, and wheelchairing him half a mile in 100 degree heat to get a McDonald's McFlurry. Watching him soak in the sun was my beautiful moment too.

How are we doing?

Not great. This sucks. It's terrible. There is no other answer we can give you - and if we do we're lying or just don't have the emotional space to say anything else. We are exhausted. But we are capable and resilient and full of love for him. Right now we are strong enough to do what we need to do.

What are the side effects of his surgery?

His left side is weak. His left hand doesn't work, and his mobility has been affected greatly. He struggles with gaps in his vision, which makes every day tasks a bit more difficult. He gets worn out quickly and needs a brain break. Our hope is that he'll be able to navigate the house with a walker when he gets home and we'll probably use a wheelchair when we travel. But he is Rico - he is all there and cannot wait to visit with all of you.

What do we need?

Ahhh, if only we knew. That's thing about Rico having brain cancer - it's attacked all of our minds. We sometimes don't know that we haven't eaten until we're ravenous. We don't realize how little sleep we're getting until the phone rings at 8am and it feels like 3 in the morning.

We so appreciate the meals, snacks, cards and love you've showered on us. Handing the kids a gift card for pizza has been a godsend. Rico is especially grateful for his friends sending New York bagels, and crumb biscuits and cheesecake. We love when our kids friends stop by to play, connect, take them out for coffee - (even if you haven't seen them in a while, they really need all of their old friends ). We do know that we will need some help moving things around the house. We need to do some revamping in the bathroom, and will likely need a ramp to the front door (which someone has graciously offered to help with). But until he finishes rehab we are not exactly sure what modifications will be most helpful.

But he's a fighter.

He is. But aren't they all? People always say this with the best of intentions and hope. It's meant to be uplifting, but it implies that if he "fights" well enough he'll win. It also implies that some people didn't give it their all - people like my mom, Alisa, my grandparents. Forgive us if we don't have a great response to this. Fighting requires a lot of negative energy. I think we'll just chose to live with cancer as our diabolical sidekick. We know it's plotting to overthrow us, but we're not ready for it to be the main character just yet.