What You Can Do to Help

"I would have called you earlier but I didn't know what to say and I didn't want to bother you."

I can't even count the number of times I have heard this, or similar, statements over the past few months and I am sure that Chad has heard it even more frequently.


Guess what?  We don't know what to say either!


In all seriousness, we know that people mean well and are simply trying to take their cues from us.  But the reality is that we are too busy living with the day to day world of cancer, and all that comes with it, to be able to provide those cues for friends and family.  

So after having this same conversation twice today, with what I consider to be close friends,  I thought that I'd share some general guidelines with you all.  I don't claim that these thoughts and feelings mirror those of anyone else in our situation, but hope that they help you understand where we are coming from at this time.

1)  A phone call or text is never a bother.  On the contrary, it helps us feel connected to the outside world when so much of our day to day lives are caught up at home.  Some days it is all we can do to accomplish the requirements of the day - getting up, showering, working.  Other days, especially on certain parts of the chemo cycle, even that is too much for Chad to handle. Hearing a few words of encouragement can go a long way!

2) If there is something you'd like to do to help, please just do it.   Honestly, we are not ones to ask for help.  And if you ask if if we need something, we will likely just say no. While we appreciate all of your kind offers to call when we need something, we aren't going to call.  We aren't going to reach out because we already feel guilty for all that people are doing to help.  We could never ask nor expect more.

3) Please initiate hanging out / visiting / going to dinner.  Speaking for myself, I know that there are people who are figuring that I will reach out to them when I am ready to socialize.  The truth of the matter is, I won't.  I just can't.  The idea of trying to organize something and risk getting rejected by the ones I am reaching out to is just too much for me at this time. Please feel free to reach out to us and include us in plans - bbq's, parties, dinners, whatever.  If it isn't a good time, we will  graciously decline.  But just being invited helps.

4) It is ok to ask how things are going.  I know that people worry about asking.  Please don't.  We are pretty open to sharing Chad's story.  By asking how things are going, you are demonstrating you care.  It isn't a bother and won't ever offend us.  More than likely we won't ever bring it up first.  That doesn't mean we don't want / need to talk about it, it is just that this fight consumes so much of our lives that we try to not dwell on it more than is required.

5) Just be yourself, and allow us the same.  As simple as that sounds, it is what it all boils down to.
Yes, life sucks at our house right now.

Yes, we are dealing with a terminal illness.

But we are still living our lives and taking it day by day.  We want and need the same things that we had before December 11th.

Most of all, we need our friends and family by our side, not afraid to reach out to us.

Thanks for all your love and support,
~Darcy

Everyday Miracles

Miracles are the small things that surround us each day. 

Sometimes you are led to things that help you to regain perspective.  Take tonight for instance.  I just came home from watching the movie "Miracles From Heaven."  (If you haven't seen it yet, I highly recommend it, but bring the tissues.  LOTS of them.)

One of the key messages of the movie is that miracles aren't always big and grand, but rather the small things that surround us every day.

I reflected on this message as I drove home tonight.  Our family has, and is, truly surrounded by miracles.  Each and every day...

• A text or call from a friend checking in to see how we are doing.
• Cards, notes, and get well wishes that come in the mail and bring a smile to our face.
• Special gifts of hope and love - a prayer shawl, t-shirt, necklace, chemo buddy - physical reminders of the strength of faith, hope, and courage as we undertake this battle.
• A note or message to share a special memory.
• Family visits, that include a tremendous amount of help and support.
• An invitation to spend time together- going to a movie, taking a walk, going golfing, dinner out, game night.
• People taking the time and walking with us to raise funds to find a cure for pancreatic cancer.
• Donations to pancreatic cancer research, in honor of Chad
• Prayers, prayers, and more prayers.
• A message on facebook to say "hey, I'm thinking about you today."
• Dinners prepared and delivered to our family and gift cards for meals.
• Impromptu visits - just to say hi.
• Anonymous donations to a medical fund, set up by an anonymous person.
• A kind word, smile, or hug, with an inquiry about how we are doing.
• Understanding employers 
• Friends that lend a shoulder and listen to the venting and crying and questions
• Those supporting our journey by following Chad's story on the facebook page
• Positive posts or pictures shared with us
• And so very many more..

If you are reading this, I hope that you see yourself in one or more of these miracles.  Because simply stated - our friends and family are our miracles.  You are the ones that help us to get up each day and continue to fight this battle.  

Yes, we believe in big miracles.  We will keep believing and hoping for big miracles.  But please know, it's the small miracles that keep us afloat day by day.

Thank you for being the miracles in our lives.

~Darcy

I Decline

Earlier this week I responded to a Facebook post from a parent of a former student.  She had posted a picture of a very grown up young lady that I had the privilege to teach as a first grader.  When she remarked that this young lady was about to become a teenager, I responded with "I decline that reality."

Later that night, I thought about that phrase and how well it fits my current life.

Oh, how I would love to decline my current reality.

I decline the reality that we don't know what the future brings.

I decline the reality that I cannot fix this gaping issue that clouds every aspect of our lives.

I decline the reality that my husband currently has more prescriptions a month than he has probably had in our entire 20 + years of  marriage.

I decline the reality that the only hope for treatment brings with it a host of side effects and complications that are horrible for him to endure.

I decline the reality that my children have to face this and that our grandson may never get the chance to truly know and remember his Pappy.  And that I might not have the opportunity to grow old with him.

I decline  the reality of the statistics that go along with this diagnosis.

I decline the reality that cancer has taken over our lives.

I decline my current reality.

Oh, how I wish I could REALLY do that.  I wish that I could decline what has overtaken our lives and become the reality with which we live.

This weekend brought an anniversary of sorts.  Three months ago, Chad was hospitalized and underwent his first test that hinted that something more serious might be going on than the gall bladder issue we thought we were dealing with.  We had no idea what the preliminary result of that test would be. The results that would lead to further tests, and a conversation a few short days later that would tear our world apart.

The doctor taking me into a small consultation room and saying..."I found a tumor in the pancreas.  It is likely cancer."  And a few weeks later, the news that it had spread to other organs.  Not only cancer, but Stage IV cancer.  

You know, we don't really use that word at our house.

Cancer

It's a bad word -- a word that if it remains unspoken, won't be so daunting.  But, unspoken or not, it IS our reality.  As much as I want to decline it, it isn't going away.

But my friends, we are strong--we are brave--we will continue to fight.  We will do anything we can to keep this monster at bay.

But I hope that you'll all excuse me while I take a break and bury my head in the sand...and decline this reality.

At least for a few minutes.

~Darcy