We made it another week. We have a lot to look forward to this weekend. We had some good friends here this week and tomorrow we get to see some others who we haven’t seen in a while. We are already looking forward to worship tomorrow night. Then NOTHING on Sunday. I love looking forward to stuff.

Up until now in my life, I rarely reflected on the past, but constantly looked forward. It is good and bad. I miss out on some great memories that I don’t take time to reflect on. But I live with anticipation of things to come. I am/was eager and excited for new things.

Tara is doing pretty good 36 hours after chemo. Still struggling a bit with stomach pain. I hear it gurgling as I write. But she is sleeping so that is good. So now I too will reflect on my day as I enjoy the present; laying in bed and falling asleep. Thank you God for sustaining us through another week….a good one.

Encouragement does so much good for us. We were encouraged by a good report from the doctor. Tara’s body is being pushed to the max, but the drugs are doing their job. The levels indicating cancer are going in the right direction. But there are some other levels that indicate a beat-up body. We’ll take beat-up and improving over not beat-up and not improving.

The stomach pain is still around but the doctor is not concerned. Still a bummer to deal with the discomfort of it, but it is not something that will be around long. All these side issues, like the stomach pain and the shingles, are just proof we are pushing her body as much as possible with the treatment. But it is working. Thank God.

As I laid in the chemo bed today, next to Tara, she tucked her arms under the warmth of the blanket. My arm was under her neck and shoulder and extended out on the other side of her. With the blanket bunched up over her shoulder it was easy to see why the nurse’s first thought was that my arm was hers. She stood there with the IV needle in hand, puzzled. I thought to myself, what if we had fallen asleep, and the nurse didn’t notice the size or the hairiness of the arm. And what if I was administered the chemo drugs by accident and we woke up to realize this had happened. I would be lose my hair (the rest of it anyway), I would be nauseous and would probably not handle it well.

This is Tara’s reality week after week. She is doing it. She is not complaining. She is struggling to maintain hope, but she is still confident that God has her right where he wants her. He has sustained us again today.

Tomorrow is Tara’s tenth chemo treatment. It is the big one this time. Taxol and Carboplatin. We’ll go in together at 7 am to meet with the Oncologist. We’ll hear what the blood tests showed and how he thinks she is doing. Then we’ll go to chemo. It will last until 11:30 or so, but I’ll head out at 9 once things are underway. We never really learn much at these appointments, but each time, we hope to find something new. A bit more hope?

Tara’s stomach has not been right all week. I have never heard a stomach so loud in all my life. The gurgling and turning is down right scary. And it hurts her. There is constant pain, followed by discouragement, followed by dread of more pain and nausea. Lets hope we find a solution tomorrow.

Do I sound like a broken record? I feel like I say this stuff all the time. The same things over and over.

It would be nice to see real, consistent, long-term progress. Ground that we can gain and stake claim to it for good. I guess this is not something we can live through, rather we have to live in it. It’s our situation. Wishing to be done may leave us discontent in the present. So we are trying to find a comfortable seat right where we are….and trust God to do what He is going to do.

When will I will get sick of blogging? Each day I say it will be my last, until I get into bed. Then my mind starts turning and I need to unload it. So I start typing….just like I did now. Do I sound like a broken record? I feel like I say this stuff all the time. The same things over and over.

My oldest daughter keenly observed recently that the popular kids in grade school didn’t find popularity in middle school. I told her to stay tuned. Because the popular kids in middle school won’t all be popular in high school. The same is true from high school to college and from college on. In fact some of the nerdiest high school kids will go on to have the best families, careers and maintain their youthful look.

Our culture has focused on achieving maximum performance by age 17-18. That is the best looking they will be, the best athletically, the most friends they’ll have and more. Tara and I talk often about training our children to peak at 30….or later. That means at 30 years old, they will be the most fit, best looking and most emotionally stable that they have ever been. They won’t look back to their “glory years” in envy of themselves at that age. This is what we hope for.

Tara is peaking at age 41 in many ways. Her heart understands certain truths for the first time. Her soul is more dependent on God than before. And if it weren’t for cancer, her body would be close to peaking. But her body is certainly not in peak form now. It is worn, weary and tired. Her mind, while consumed with other thoughts, is not as clear as it was 4 months ago.

Today was another rough one. The up and down cycle wears on both of us, although we have grown to expect it and are learning to be okay with it. Daily, I feel less competent at comforting Tara. Words like “you are beautiful” or “I love you” are not her love language. She doesn’t care how she looks, and she is quite confident that I love her completely. She is concerned about physical strength. She wants her body back and the ability to do things without becoming exhausted in only a few minutes of exertion. She wants progress now so she peak again at 45 years old. But we need to start somewhere and it has to begin with feeling good enough to be up and active. Not having her stomach in pain daily.

She’ll make it. She may not know it, but I do. She fights hard and won’t quit.

My oldest daughter keenly observed recently that the popular kids in grade school didn’t find popularity in middle school. I told her to stay tuned. Because the popular kids in middle school won’t all be popular in high school. The same is true from high school to college and from college on. In fact some of the nerdiest high school kids will go on to have the best families, careers and maintain their youthful look.

Our culture has focused on achieving maximum performance by age 17-18. That is the best looking they will be, the best athletically, the most friends they’ll have and more. Tara and I talk often about training our children to peak at 30….or later. That means at 30 years old, they will be the most fit, best looking and most emotionally stable that they have ever been. They won’t look back to their “glory years” in envy of themselves at that age. This is what we hope for.

Tara is peaking at age 41 in many ways. Her heart understands certain truths for the first time. Her soul is more dependent on God than before. And if it weren’t for cancer, her body would be close to peaking. But her body is certainly not in peak form now. It is worn, weary and tired. Her mind, while consumed with other thoughts, is not as clear as it was 4 months ago.

Today was another rough one. The up and down cycle wears on both of us, although we have grown to expect it and are learning to be okay with it. Daily, I feel less competent at comforting Tara. Words like “you are beautiful” or “I love you” are not her love language. She doesn’t care how she looks, and she is quite confident that I love her completely. She is concerned about physical strength. She wants her body back and the ability to do things without becoming exhausted in only a few minutes of exertion. She wants progress now so she peak again at 45 years old. But we need to start somewhere and it has to begin with feeling good enough to be up and active. Not having her stomach in pain daily.

She’ll make it. She may not know it, but I do. She fights hard and won’t quit.

Tragedy struck this past weekend. A friend. A loving father of 4. A providing husband. He unexpectedly died leaving children hurting, and a wife questioning where her provision will come from. How can anything good come from things like this? It doesn’t make sense.

I pray that God will reveal himself. I pray, God, comfort them like you have us. Their pain is deeper and it will take a bigger miracle, but that is what you do. So do your thing please.

When viewed from this perspective, I am even more thankful for what has happened in our life. We have had time to enjoy each other, to plan, to have hope for long life, to see differently, to love deeper, and the list goes on. Thank you God for sustaining us. Please sustain my friend’s family.

The weekend is over and the busyness of the week is about to begin….again. Tara gradually felt better all day today and hopefully tomorrow morning she’ll be ready for the week….again. Life has the danger of being a cycle of events that just keep repeating. It is up to us to make sure that we are not repeating our mistakes, over and over. We must be advancing so we don’t keep ending up at the same point.

Although it is slow, we are progressing. Yes, health wise we are progressing from diagnosis until now. Bur more importantly, we are progressing in life. We can look over the entirety of our lives, or at least our 19+ years of marriage and see progress. Not every day up. But like we want for the stock market, averages going up. This phase of our life is actually a growth phase on the graph. Too bad it has to hurt so bad. But we’ll take it…I guess, since we have no choice.

God has been faithful to us again today.

Our 2 oldest girls were at a formal at our church this evening featuring a comedian. I can imagine the laughter heard through that room. The chuckles, snorts, giggles, chortles and cackles, both high pitched and low. I can imagine the faces that were cramping from smiling so much, the tears that wound up on sleeves and napkins, the sore bellies from the constant tightening with good, old fashioned, hysterical laughter.

But imagining is about as close as I’ll get for the time being. During the last 73 days Tara and I haven’t had much laughter. And I miss it. We miss it. We need it. There is a difference between having peace and joy versus laughter. The one we have and I think that seems most critical. The other we need, but I’m not sure to what extent. We need to lighten things around our home, or at least our room. The kids seem to still have it, so I think we should start there and spend more time with them while they are laughing..and join in with them.

Although the overall pattern of Tara’s progress is moving in the right direction, this particular day wasn’t so good. Her stomach is giving her fits, almost to the point of going in to get it checked out. If it wasn’t the weekend, where we would end up in the emergency room, we probably would have gone. So we’ll see how tomorrow goes and make our decision from there.

We know God is with us, but today He seemed distant. My prayers seemed just like words that I was trying to put together that ended up not making much sense. I am really counting on tomorrow. While we typically go to church on Saturday, this week we are going Sunday. So God, I challenge you to meet us, both there and here. Lock eyes with us. Refine us. Give us peace, joy and laughter in our hearts and our home.

I woke up exhausted. Stayed up later than I should have because the snow day had messed up my schedule….again. Forced myself out of bed and went through my usual morning routine. Then off I go, prepared to face the challenges of my day. I have been filling my mind with encouraging activities like listening to music and reading. This helps me have a better attitude throughout my day. This is not Jay Maier, but me, a teenage girl facing the trials of a family in crisis.

I came home on Wednesday, January 30, 2013 to find my parents waiting for me. Nothing good ever happens when they are waiting for me. Sure, my mom was sick and not doing well, but cancer? That wasn’t an option in my mind. At first I was in shock, nothing ever exciting and tragic happens to normal people! I wasn’t exactly sure how to act. Should I cry? Should I hug my mom? For the first week or so it was awkward. I didn’t see mom much because she was in the hospital.

I was overwhelmed with how many people actually wanted to help us! All the friends who came behind us and just comforted us or were just there. And if people hadn’t brought us food we would have starved!!:) It helped more than you would think.

My faith has grown because of mom’s cancer. I’ve had to rely on God to sustain me emotionally. He has given me a peace in this situation. An its-in-your-hands attitude. I have made more time to spend with Him. For example, the morning bus ride to school is spent in prayer and meditation on His voice.

Sharing my emotions has been a struggle with anyone outside of some really close friends. My parents have had people encouraging them through the blog and cards, but my friends have been there behind the scenes holding me up and just supporting me. This is how I survive.

Welcome to a different perspective, still from the treetops! God has been faithful to me:)

Today I was reminded again how many stories walk around the Mayo Clinic. Each is just as impactful on that person’s life as ours is to us. Today I saw a young grandma preparing to go into chemotherapy. Her daughter was with her and she had her grand daughter on speaker phone. She was trying to ease the concern that the grand daughter had about her condition.

I saw a 90 year old woman walking the lobby alone. She stumbled and fell to the ground, hitting her head on a table. When the doctors came to help her, and insisted that she stay in a wheel chair, she resisted saying “I want to stay out of the chair as long as possible, because once I stop walking, I’ll be done.”

How hard it is to empathize with someone until you have walked in their shoes. I wonder what it will be like to be old and feeble, trying to hang on to dignity and life. I wonder what it would be like to console my grandchild as they worried about me dying of cancer. I wondered about all kinds of different things as I looked around the waiting room. Each story equally impacting on that person and their family. A gentle smile is all I can offer. And looks back at us are equally curious; wondering about our story.