Round 2: Calm . . (before the storm?)

Kevin went in yesterday morning for his second round of chemo.  He came home with the man purse again for a 24 hour infusion, and I must say this time the purse looked much more like a lady’s handbag.  Amazingly, he has felt pretty good.  He’s committed to doing a few things better this time - drink more, eat more, stay ahead of the nausea, listen to his doctor, listen to his wife - and we’re optimistic that last rounds puke fest was a result from the cyberknife.  We want to thank all friends, neighbors, co-workers, and family members who fasted and prayed this past weekend on our family’s & Kevin’s behalf. It was awesome to see our church benches filled with our ward family, Kevin’s ER family, and neighbors we love like family.  We felt your tremendous love & support - thank you.

Kevin has an amazing ability to remain calm, which serves him well as an ER doctor.  When we were living in Loma Linda for Kevin’s Emergency Medicine residency, little Joshie jumped off the couch and his top teeth went right through his bottom lip!  Kevin’s immediate reaction was, “We need a doctor.  We need a doctor.”  I was horrified as I was wondering what we had just spent $200K and the past 4 years of our life doing!  (I love repeating this story. To Kevin’s credit, he simply meant that we needed to take Joshua to the hospital for stitches . .Remember, this was back before the days of Kevin keeping his own suture set at home and performing the surgeries himself on our kitchen counter.)

In the shock and awe moments of the first few days after Kevin’s diagnosis, Sam caught me staring off while getting him into the car for soccer.  He said, (read this next quote in your most exasperated voice) “Mom, you are so calm.  You could lose a child and you’d still be standing there all calm!”  This has made me ponder where we have found our ability to remain calm.  Well, you only have to look to our parents and our ancestors to know that we have strength, and the fight to endure, and the ability to remain calm coursing through our veins.  Growing up, when I was faced with a challenge, my mom would say, “You can do it!  You come from pioneer stock!”  Somehow from the sound of it, I wasn’t sure it was a compliment. But I consider it one of the highest compliments when I think about one of my great-grandmothers who crossed the plains with a 3 week old baby and her 7 other children, and buried her 3 year old son along the way.  Kevin’s parents are modern day pioneers with stories from which legends are made of.  Stories of Kevin’s dad include a single salted herring hanging by a string over the dinner table for the entire family to share, training German Shepherds by allowing them to chase & chew on him, and escaping from East Germany by jumping out of a moving train with nothing but a small satchel.  Kevin’s mom also escaped from East Germany, and then once in America, worked the graveyard shift for over 30 years, and is a cancer survivor herself with the help of modern medicine and sheer mental power.  Yep, it’s not just poison running through Kevin’s veins right now; We both have the strength of generations running through us.  

In the Hegewald home, we are enjoying the calm right now . . .maybe before the storm? . . but who knows, this time it might just stay calm.

Next event:  A CT scan and MRI in 2  1/2 weeks to look for progress.  The oncologist today said most patients on yondalis don’t see shrinking results until 4 to 6 rounds of chemo.  Success will be considered if the tumors have not grown or spread.  I’m still praying for shrinking!