Thankful on the Cancer Wing?

Having just celebrated what is one of my very favorite holidays of the year, I’m reflecting a little on thankfulness.  It is 1:30AM as I sit here at Kosair Children’s Hospital in my University of Kentucky lounge pants (real men don’t wear pajamas).  My son has been a patient here on the oncology floor for the last two weeks.  What we hoped would be a relatively uneventful round of chemo to treat his leukemia relapse turned into a full blown septic infection in his bloodstream as well as a fungal infection in his lungs.  With no immunity because of the chemo treatments, he has been in a very precarious position.  It has taken constant care, constant treatment, a herd of doctors and nurses, round-the-clock attention from his mother and me, a can-do attitude from Brad, plus much prayer just to keep our noses above the water line. 

Disappointed with God?

What do you do when you are sorely disappointed with what God allows in your life?  Where do you turn when you have begged God for something which seems reasonable, yet God's answer is no?  How do you react when you cannot see what God is doing?  When you cannot see where he is going?  When you cannot figure out what he wants?  When you feel as if you can bear no more?

I have experienced a number of firsts the last few years, many of which I did not want.  Perhaps for the first time in my life, I am now experiencing deep disappointment at what God is allowing.  I hesitated to write this post.  I usually find blogging an outlet, but ever since my seventeen-year-old son Bradley was diagnosed with a leukemia relapse last week, I have been unable to find release through words.  I can identify my underlying feelings, but I have hesitated to admit them. It is hard to face being weak.

The Legacy of a Logan Countian

Tomorrow we auction the home and farm where I was reared.  I remember the summer before I turned four-years-old when my father was building the house.  My mother took us to the construction site.  The walls were being framed.  My Mom and Dad took my twin brother and me to a corner of the house and said, "This is where your room is going to be!"  It was impossible for a three-year-old to imagine that room that was coming, but it is easy for this forty-eight-year-old to remember that day.

Ending the Year with a Bang - No Mo' Chemo!

Friday, December 28, 2012 (two days ago) was downright surreal.  Although Stacey has handled most of the medical transport these last three and a half years, Friday I joined her and Bradley for his VERY LAST intravenous chemotherapy treatment.  We now know all about vincristine, PEG-L-asparaginase, daunorubicin, mercaptopurine,  methotrexate, Bactrim, cytarabine and a host of other medicines I hope you will never hear of again.  We know all about treatment for lung failure, kidney failure, neural failure, vascular failure, gastro/intestinal failure, liver failure, bedsores and most anything else you can imagine.  We know all about blood transfusions (over fifty pints), chemo/dialysis port surgeries (five) and intrathecal lumbar delivery of chemo.  Although Brad technically has five more days of oral chemo to complete, for all intents and purposes he is through with treatment for his leukemia and the host of complications from the initial staph-induced septic shock that should have taken his life.  This day had been so long in coming, it has been hard for us to realize it is actually here.

Nov. 24, 2009 - Leaving Kosair Hospital after 3 Months

Messin' with Sasquatch?

If you know me well, you knew it had to come.  Some will wonder, “But why so quickly, Mark?  Do you really want to concern the world about your mental state this soon on your blog?”  I guess the answer is yes, I’m willing to risk it.  What am I talking about?  In a word -- Bigfoot.   Bigfoot, Sasquatch, Yeti, Yowie, Skunk Ape, Woods Ape, Abominable Snowman – it doesn’t matter what you call him, Bigfoot is still a big stinking deal.

When I was a young boy in the late sixties and early seventies, Bigfoot was everywhere.  I can remember watching with wide-eyed awe the Patterson-Gimlin recording from 1967, filmed just a few days from when I turned three years old.  It has been played and analyzed again and again, all the way down to today actually.  For a young boy, the thought of a real-life nine-foot-tall, five-hundred-pound monster roaming the woods was more than spell-binding.  I’ll never forget going with my dad and brother to see Sasquatch: The Legend of Bigfoot.  It was a poorly done docudrama, but it scared the daylights out of me, and it intrigued me as well.