Weddings, Babies, and Obesity.

A lot has been happening lately!  Usually when I don't blog, it's because life is redundant and I feel like I have nothing to talk about--that's not been the case lately!!

Event #1: Jessica got married!  Talk about crazy!  I was responsible for her hair and makeup, as well as decorating the reception venue, so when I was back in Iowa last week, there was quite a bit to accomplish.  The ceremony was beautiful and the bride, GORGEOUS!!!!!!

And we had a surprise the morning of her wedding, which brings me to...

Event #2: WE'RE PREGNANT!!!! :) :)  I've started experiencing "wonderful" symptoms, such as bloating, cramps, nausea, obscene gassiness, and difficulty breathing out of my nose without sounding like I'm an obese person that just walked up a flight of stairs.

Event #3: Courtney got married!  This one was a short notice and quick planning, but everything turned out beautifully and her and Tim are now in their little apartment, getting ready for Baby #2--WHICH IS A GIRL!!!!!!!

Event #4: I got a promotion!!  I'm now a beauty stylist, which means that I'm kind of the concierge of cosmetics.  My job is to find you the best products based on your personal style, skin needs, and budget.  It's awesome!

Oh... and Emily changed my hair color and cut.  I'm "growing it out" for Isaac....

Synthroid

I had another PET scan last week.  By now, they're routine and are meant to help us catch any early developing problems.  Generally I don't even think about them, because I expect everything to be fine.  This past week, however, I had a feeling that something was off.

I met with Dr. Knechtl yesterday and explained that my scan looked great, except for my throat/thyroid area.  It was lighting up a little bit, which means that there is some activity going on there that shouldn't be.  He asked if I had any history of thyroid problems, and when I relayed that my mom has hypothyroidism, I was sent downstairs to the lab to have more blood drawn, then be on my merry way.

Now, I'm not the type to ask a million questions--if it's supposed to be, it will be--but when I told my husband about the scan results, he had several.  What's are my t3 and t4 levels?  What about my TSH?  Did they check for a tumor marker?

Uhhh...... ?

All I know is that I had to get more blood drawn, and instead of the usual purple and yellow tubes, this time they used red.

Shouldn't that be enough information, babe?  

No.

No?  You did take phlebotomy, didn't you?  Isn't the tube color enough for you to know what's going on?

Ashley!  No!

Then he shakes his head and starts to laugh.  Although we're still newlyweds in a lot of areas, discussing our medical issues is something we're really great at.  He asks questions;  I say "I don't know."  I call whichever physician I'm working with, put them on speakerphone and spend a minute or two relaying questions and answers back and forth between the two of them, eventually get tired of pretending like I know what they're talking about and hand the phone to Isaac, then spend the remainder of the phone conversation trying to detect any facial expression changes on him.

This morning, we're at the point in this process where I've called the physician but was transferred to the lab nurse, who read me my results, but couldn't answer any of his other questions.  I think her and I were getting extremely confused between Isaac's questions and my translations of them.

It sounds like I've got hypothyroidism.  Which is NOT the worst thing in the world.  I have to take drugs for the rest of my life (thanks, Mom) but at least it's an easy fix.

Best of all, it doesn't involve chemotherapy.

Hallelujah!!!

A Night At The Ball

Never in my life did I envision going to a ball.  For starters, I didn't think they existed anymore.  I equated balls with Cinderella, and Cinderella isn't real.  Therefore, balls aren't real, right?

Wrong.

A few months ago, Isaac was invited to attend the MOCF (Michigan Osteopathic College Foundation) Ball and he so sweetly asked me to come as his date.  I said yes.  This event would be an amazing networking opportunity for him, and we couldn't pass that up!

The event was last night and it was incredible, to say the least!  Here are some pictures!

The menu for the night.

Our ride to and from the event.  Around 20 of us from the MUC campus pitched in and rented a limo instead of all driving separately.

Before people were seated.  There were around 900 people in attendance!!

Some of Isaac's schoolmates enjoying their food.

Really sweet centerpieces!  One lucky person at each table got to take the flower arrangement home at the end of the night (but not the stand)!

The lobby at the hotel.  The car that Amy and I are standing in front of was given away in a raffle.  Tickets were $100 each and MOCF ended up making $70,000 by the end of the night from the raffle alone.

The school asked that we write thank you notes to the people who donated our tickets.  We ended up having even more to say thank you for, as Isaac won a trip to Cancun for us!  Looks like we'll finally be able to go on a honeymoon!!  Woohoo!!

Home For The Holidays

It's been a little while.  Sorry about that.  I'm guessing that a lot of you, like Isaac and I, are busy with Christmas being tomorrow.

This past week and a half we did Christmas with my dad's extended family in Nebraska and then when we got back, Isaac and I headed to Iowa City for Christmas with the Hintons.  Howard (Isaac's dad) and I are in a weight loss competition, so I was glad to hear that Lynn (Isaac's mom) made him a couple batches of fudge.  Unfortunately, it looked so good that I wanted to try it, and I ended up loving it so much I'm sure I ate more than Howard.  I guess that effort to trip him up backfired.

The last two full days we've been in the van with my Iowa family--and my brother.  Glory sakes, heaven spare me.  I've wanted to kill him less this year than in the past few years, but he can still get on my nerves faster than any other human being I know.  I don't even know how his brain works to think up some of the things he does.  I guess we're just wired differently.  VERY differently.

We stopped in Tennessee last night and visited with some family that we don't get to see very often.  It was fun to get to hang out with them!  The boys (Isaac and Ike) are on a weightlifting kick right now so they were super excited to learn there was an in-home gym.  They spend at least an hour seeing how much weight they could bench, among other things.

Courtney and I lifted a little bit too, but not for long.

While we were there, Isaac and I slept on an air mattress upstairs.  Nobody realized it had a small leak in it and so midway through the night I went to roll over and just about fell off because so much air had escaped.  I felt like I was sleeping on a waterbed without any outer boundaries.  Mom came up to wake me up in the morning and said that both Isaac and I were sleeping with our backs/butts on the ground and our legs were up in the air.  And apparently when I got out of the bed Isaac sunk to the ground and the bed kind of caved in around him.  Poor guy.

Today we were in the van for another eleven hours and thankfully nobody killed Ike.  Sometimes he makes it his personal mission to see how many people he can get riled up before we gang up and beat him (not literally).  He's pretty good at getting to the edge of everyone's patience.

We arrived in Orlando at 1:00am and the plan is to make our way down to Miami tomorrow.  Then we get on the cruise ship and will be floating in the ocean for the next five days.  Ahhhh...  Hopefully it will be relaxing.  I'm looking forward to it because not only is it a vacation, it will kind of be like a honeymoon for Isaac and I since.

The plan had been to go on one in August this year when he had a break in his school schedule; however, the appearance of the cancer prevented us from going anywhere and doing anything, so this is kind of like our fake honeymoon--but we'll have guests!

Sick And Happy

I'm sick.  Just putting that out there.  The snotty nose and hot ears last night have revealed themselves to be some sort of crap.  I'm at least grateful, though, that this is on the tail-end of my last chemo session.  That means that, even if I have to be hospitalized or something because my counts aren't as high as they would like, I'm not necessarily delaying my treatment.  Thank you, God

AND...  I'm SO, SO, SO glad that I don't have any more treatments!! 

Anyway, to fill you in on my heart this morning.

Last night I went to bed really sad.  I was feeling super hurt and unloved and was having a really intense conversation with God when my husband walked in to check on me.

I had so many mixed feelings when he walked in.  A part of me was glad, because I wanted to know that he at least cared.  Another part of me was angry.  The little devil in me was thinking, "Oh, so NOW that I'm going to sleep, he wants to talk.  His terms, his time.  Of course."

I'd already been crying and if you combine that with my snotty nose... well, I'm pretty sure when he asked if I was alright, my frog-voice gave away the fact that I wasn't.

We talked about the shirts.
We talked about my feelings.
We talked about his feelings.

And I felt SO much better.  And bad at the same time.

You see, last night I had been so hurt that he wasn't talking to me, that I'd given it my all and tried not to talk to him either.  I'd avoided eye contact, walked as far away from him when I passed where he was sitting, tried to look like I was busy doing stuff...

He thought I was mad about something and that I was trying to cool off.

I can see how my actions could translate as angry to anyone outside my mind.  Absolutely.

But then I felt like a jerk for thinking the things I had about him.  About our marriage.

Isaac said it was okay.  I'm not a jerk.

It's amazing how when your spouse says something like that, it means so much.

We continued to talk and talk and talk.  We communicated.  I love when that happens.  You can be in the same room with your husband all day long (I know this from experience) and never actually communicate.  You can have a conversation, and it will have all essentially been empty words.  Last night was not one of those instances.

Everything was discussed, including things that were in no relation to the shirt incident, and at the end of the conversation, I felt so much more loved.

Thank You, God.  For caring enough about me to give me a good husband who, despite the mistakes that he's made in the past (and I've made them too), wants to work on our marriage.  Who was gentle with my heart last night when I so desperately needed it.  And thank You, for not giving up on me.  For loving me, especially.


And P.S. please help this sickness to go away without any hospitalizations and such.  Thank You.

My Roses Are Dying

I have to apologize before I even get into this one.  It's probably going to be a little bit of a downer.  I just don't feel good.

I have a snotty nose, my ears feel hot (like I'm probably getting sick), I've been sneezing all day long, my left nostril has been slowly leaking blood since about a month after I started chemo, I got poked with a needle SEVEN times today in order to get my blood drawn for my MUGA scan, and my husband hasn't said a word to me since I got home.

I have no idea as to why I might be getting sick--especially since I'm still essentially on lockdown in the apartment.  Okay.  So it's not really lockdown, but I don't go anywhere because I don't know people.

Timeout.  That's a lie.  I know Kim.  And hopefully I'll get to know her better.  However, I'm unfortunately one of those people who takes about three to five years to cement a solid friendship and until it hits about that time, I feel like I'm imposing.  And I hate doing that.  I know people have their own stuff going on.

And my left nostril.... I waxed my nose hairs not too long after starting chemo and ever since then every time I blow my nose there is blood in my mucus.  I know, I know.  It's my fault.  I feel like it should probably be healed by now, though.  I mean, really, it's been four months!

Whatever.

I'm not sure what the heck was going on with the people who were drawing my blood today.  The girl who tried it the first three times in the crook of my right arm said that, "she doesn't usually have a problem with sticking people."

I'm not convinced.

Lee, the tech who tried after the girl, poked me another four times.  Twice in the same spot as the girl had tried, once in the crook of my left arm, and then he finally got it in my rookie vein on my left arm.  Of the seven times that I got stabbed, they "fished" for my vein four times.  Ouch, ouch, ouch.  It hurts to even bring my right arm up all the way, not to mention that the bruises from my battle are probably going to make me look like I've been shooting up crack or something come tomorrow.

As for my husband, I threw out his brown pit-stained white undershirts earlier today and replaced them with some new ones that I bought him over a month ago.  He's upset because apparently he wore them to work out in.  He asked me why I tossed them and I told him that personally, I think that pit stains on white shirts are very un-sexy and I find him more attractive in stain-free tees.  We got into a semi-heated text message conversation after that and I apologized.

I'm not even sure why.  Probably because I don't like it when he's unhappy with me.

I find myself getting irritated, both with Isaac and with myself, because I feel like whenever we get into an argument, I'm the one who ends up apologizing.  And he's perfectly fine with doing what he's doing today--not talking to me--until I initiate.

Marriage is a LOT harder than I thought it would be.  I found that I was pep-talking myself a lot today.

Love him like God, Ashley.  Love him like God.

Oh it just kills me sometimes, though!  That moment when I feel so hurt by him is usually when I start thinking crazy things.  I debate just walking out and driving back to Ames because at least I feel wanted there.  Or filing for divorce.  It's easy to understand why the rates for it are so high.  But then I remember I don't believe in divorce.  And that's where the semi started entering the picture.

Today I was reading Jessica's blog though.  It was one that she wrote a while ago.  One where I kind of had to smack her in the head about how she was acting, and if I remember correctly, the phrase that I used with her was "Put on your big girl panties and do it anyway."

Re-reading it felt like a two-by-four to the head tonight.

Because if I sit down and think about it, when I was being a pickle, God didn't just quit loving me.  He didn't say, "Well, Ashley, you're being kind of an asshole right now, so I'm going to check out."  Nope.  Sometimes I kind of (but not really) wish He had, so then I wouldn't feel so bad if I did it to someone.

Dear God, help me to love unconditionally.

Last Chemo!

Wednesday will be my last chemotherapy session ever.  Lord-willingly, anyway.

I'm excited.  I haven't had as bad of an experience as some people, but it's still not an experience that I think I would have ever picked out for myself.  Or for my husband.  Or for our marriage.

Physically, it hasn't been all that hard.  Once the claw-hand went away and we figured out a pretty good regime of drugs, things got a lot easier.

Every two weeks, I went in, they hooked me up and filled my body with toxins.  Then I slept for three to four days, save for eating and relieving myself in the bathroom.  Sunday night was usually a little bit uncomfortable, Monday I feel more like myself, and by Tuesday I am normal again.  Then I'd have a good week before it all began again.

And thankfully this will be my last session.

Please, God.  Please, let it be my last session ever.

I've thought about what it would be like to be cured of the cancer and then to have it come back in a couple of years.  Oh, how hard it'd be to do this all again.  The physical.  The emotional.  The psychological.

The darn saline.

Really, the saline is the worst.  Even thinking of it....  well... I just ate, so I don't want to.

I'm curious to find out how radiation feels.  I'll be getting "mapped" next week on Thursday (I believe) which involves them giving me a tattoo.  A couple, actually, it sounds like.  Just little dots to help the machine line up consistently.

I always said if I ever get a tattoo it would be a tiger on my face.  Go big or go home.  Might as well make it memorable, right?  Yeah... what you're thinking right now... that's what my mom said too.  It's also why I don't have any tattoos.

I've still been having crazy thoughts about suicide and such.  You can pray for that.  They're not consistently there, but off and on I think them.

You can also pray for our young marriage.  It's struggling.  A lot.

A new marriage + med school + new location + cancer = lots of rough stuff.

We just need some help.  We're not doing well, but I suppose given the circumstances, it's not all that surprising.  Just pray, please.

Pray that I can figure out how to love my husband, even when all I want to do is close my eyes and never wake up.  Pray that I remember to hold my tongue, especially when it wants to spew out hurtful things because I am hurting.  Pray that on the days that I feel I can barely endure, that I remember to talk to God, because He loves me more than I will ever understand.  And pray that I remember to pray, because some days, it's just really hard.

I love Isaac.  I really do.  I just don't know that I've been doing very good at showing him.  I think part of it is the drugs messing with me.  And the other part of it is just me.  I'm human.  I fail.  Every day.

This is the part of life where I look up and remember my vows.  My promise to God.  My promise to my husband.  And I have to take all of my emotions and set them aside and focus on the fact that I need to love him more like God loves me.

Unconditionally.  Every day.  Drugged or not.  With or without cancer.  Rain or shine, whether it is reciprocated or not.  Putting my all into it, because I promised to do it, for richer or for poorer.  In sickness and in health.  Through the good and the bad.

It's just that right now is harder than it will be other times.