Thursday, November 22, 2012


This is late, and for this I appologise.  Ken was flown home by Hope Air on Monday.

I am so happy to have him home.

He's not completely done - he still has three chemo injections to be given into his spine (a few weeks apart), but it's so wonderful that he's here.

He made it in time for our youngest son's first birthday.  And that meant the world to both of us.

Live is so, so good right now.  We're just waiting for the results from his CTscan to confirm that the Cancer is gone.

I know it is.

Monday, November 5, 2012

Happy Birthday, Honey

Today is Ken's birthday.  Another older, wiser and stronger.

He had his 'third from the end' spinal chemo shot today and was kicked back out to outpatient care.  With any luck, he'll get one more at the end of this week, and his last one at the beginning of next week.

Here's to hoping.

Today he told me that his hair is starting to come back in - white.  As if that makes any difference to me... he can have it blue or purple or red, I just want him back home.

My husband is amazing.  And strong.  I am the luckiest woman in the world to have him.

Not too much longer.  Then we just have to play the waiting game to get the 'all clear'... make sure that the Cancer is completely gone.

I'm so emotional; excited that the end is within sight, scared that the outcome won't be perfect, relieved to know my soulmate is coming back to me.

Life is hard, but it is good.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

The light at the end of the tunnel...

It's so close I can almost see it.

Almost taste it.

Ken finished his consolidation chemo today.  He has three more shots of chemo into his spine, which need to be spaced several days (to possibly a week) apart.

He is in rough shape.  Consolidation chemo is the highest, strongest dose that they give.  It's the 'last hurrah', designed to make sure not one. little. cancerous. cell. is left behind.

Here's to hoping.

I have a confession to make.  And it makes me feel like an absolute ass, because Ken is all alone, and fighting this disease so hard.

I'm lonely.  And overwhelmed.  And depressed.

I've reached my limit, reduced to tears several times over the past week.  I don't know how much more of this I can take.

The babies are sick.  Again.

I love being a Mom.  But I HATE being a single Mom.  Hate it.

I feel like a failure because I'm having such a difficult time.  I should be stronger than this.  After all, Ken is the one who is struggling, suffering through brutal treatments that cause him so much pain and make him so sick.  He hasn't seen his family in over 2 months.

And here I am feeling sorry for myself.

I just want my husband home.  But I want him home cured.