I’m almost afraid to write this post, because everytime I start to get even a little bit optimistic, my husband’s body plays this cruel joke on me and decides it’s time for something else to go wrong with it.  I’m serious.

However, I’ve decided to take my chances (probably not smart, considering luck hasn’t been on our side lately) and say that we’ve seen some good signs lately that, hopefully, indicate Chris in on the road to recovery - finally.

First and foremost, the guy is in a better place mentally than I’ve seen him in in a LONG time.  It’s actually refreshing to be able to sit next to my husband and watch a movie that we BOTH laugh our way through, even if we are watching that move in his hospital room.  Laughter’s been missing for far too long and it’s nice to have it back.

The swelling in his body, while still A LOT, is most definitely better than it was when we got to the hospital almost 2 weeks ago.  The even better news, is the parts of his legs where the fluid has left, hasn’t come back.  I’m taking that as a good sign.  Who knew ankles could be such a beautiful thing.

The IV is finally gone from his neck and the PICC line is back in his arm.  A sure sign that the infection is on it’s way out.

The rash he has on his legs/feet/belly - WAY better - like night and day.  It’s still present, but now it’s much less scarey to look at.

His face and neck look fuller to me (and to a few friends who’ve seen him a lot recently) which, to me, is an indicator that the IV nutrition (TPN) they have him on is actually doing something.  Weight gain is a positive sign for sure.

His voice is much stronger and much louder than it’s been in a month.  I’ve SO missed that deep, comforting sound calling for me.  Conversations are pleasant again.

And perhaps the biggest “good sign” of all, his liver functions are improving.  The blood tests they’ve been doing to test his liver functions have been steadily decreasing (which in this case is a good thing).  They’re not normal by any means, but getting better is certainly better than getting worse.

Having said all of that, I’d be lying if I said we still didn’t have a long way to go, but what’s important, is that we finally seem to actually be getting there this time.  I pray every night that this is indeed the case, and that is the direction we keep heading in.  Any prayers you can send asking for the same would be very much appreciated.

Okay.  Fingers crossed that Chris’s body behaves itself.  I’m off to click the “Publish” button . . .

Shane and I actually got an hour and a half to play outside yesterday before dinner.  It occured to me that I should probably dust off the camera and use the opportunity to take a few pictures. 

This first one is definitely over-exposed, but the look on his face is just SO him these days.  LOVE him!  Stay tuned for more (when time permits!)

Happy 40th Birthday, Babe!  I know spending the day in the hospital isn’t exactly the way we envisioned your 40th, but at least we get to celebrate it!  Not everyone 8 months into a cancer diagnosis can say that, so I consider us lucky.

We’ll do it up right when you’re home, for sure - until then, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!  I love you more than anything.  Thank you for being the fantastic husband, daddy, and man, that you are. 

Here’s to the next 40 birthdays!!! xoxo

Yup.  That staph infection just kept on growing - and now it’s an infection that is resistant to most antibiotics.  It’s not so much a bad thing for Chris (he’s on the correct antibiotic now), but it could be a very bad thing for other cancer patients on the floor, especially those who are currently on chemo.  So, our poor guy is now in isolation.  Can’t leave his room and anyone who comes in has to wear gowns and gloves.

Have I mentioned that it never seems to end?

It’s been a very long and stressful week, and it’s not over yet.  This has, by far, been the toughest week we’ve had since we received Chris’s diagnosis on October 28.  Please keep our family in your prayers.  The more prayers you can send to Chris, the better.  He’s been looking and sounding better the last 2 days, but we’ve got a ways to go before they let him come home.

We miss you, baby!  Hurry up and Get Well!

Just to add insult to injury.  The blood cultures I mentioned yesterday showed that a staph infection grew.  Like I said, it never ends.

This is a big week for us with scans and tests.  Please keep Chris in your prayers and pray for a positive, successful outcome.  Tensions are high this week.

It just won’t end.  The recovery from this last embolization he had on May 1 has been slow going, at best.  Every day I walk into that hospital room praying that today will be the day that the coin flips - the day when things start to turn around - the day when Chris is finally on the upswing in all of this.

Every night, I lay in bed, awake.  Afraid to close my eyes, in fear that the horrible dreams that have been waking me up at night will return.  The exhaustion always wins, but the prize is always short lived.  Once again, I spend most of the night waking up in a cold sweat from the show my mind has just witnessed.  I spend way too much time tossing and turning, looking for that sweet spot in the bed that will allow me to drift off into a peaceful sleep, finally.  I never find it.  And then I realize it’s because the sweet spot I’m looking for is lying in a hospital bed on the 7th floor of St. Vincent’s Medical Center.  How I long for that peaceful night of sleep.  How I long for my sweet spot to be back at home, back in bed, with me.  With us.

There was another CT scan on Saturday (finally) which, to my understanding, shows no change from the scan he had two weeks ago.  His legs are still swollen, though they have started him on diuretics again, hopefully this time they’ll work.  His bladder isn’t emptying entirely on it’s own and urinating is painful - another slap in the face when you’re on diuretics - so a catheter was put in last night to resolve that issue.  Today we should find out whether or not the blood cultures taken on Thursday and Friday are positive for infection.  If there isn’t an infection, they’ll finally put the PICC line in his arm and take the temporary IV out of his neck.  They did start him on IV nutrition on Saturday night, but already there’s talk of possibly putting in a feeding tube instead.  Like I said, it never ends.

The days at work are long.  It physically pains me to be there, and to not be with Chris, or with Shane.  Most days I wish there were three of me.  One for each of my boys, and one for everything else.    I would give just about anything to have our old life back, hell, even just a fragment of it.  A life where the three of us could sit on a beach at the Cape, burying our feet in the sand and watching the sunset.  A life where organizing a Sunday walk at the park with Shane and both dogs is our biggest worry.  A life where we could all still enjoy an ice cream cone together.  A life where my boys could still wrestle with each other and where bath time was a 2 parent show.  A life where trips to amusement parks and water parks filled our summer calendar.  I’d even be happy to be able to revisit these memories in my dreams, until such time when we’re able to have OUR life back.  I’ll be damned if I don’t find a way to make that happen.

Chris went to see Dr. Dressler today because the swelling in his legs was still really bad.  Dr. Dressler had him readmitted to St. Vincent’s for some testing, nourishment and to watch the swelling.

Your prayers, as always, would be appreciated.

We’ve got a long recovery ahead of us from this last procedure, but at least we’re back on home turf now!

It’s good to have him home!  And it’s good to see Shane with his best friend again!  No one but Daddy would do last night!!

Each day Chris is getting a little stronger, and we’re confident that with some time and patience he’ll be back to his old self (and tricks)!

Like Dr. Dressler said, it’s a slow process.  Truer words have never been spoken.

It’s a slow process, that’s for sure.  And a heart-wrenching one at that.  If I have to hear our poor little boy say “no see me dada” one more time, I think I may have to find myself a busy intersection!!  It’s been difficult, but progress is finally being made.    His pain is more controlled than it’s been in 2+ months.  It’s not gone by any means, but it’s tolerable, and the look of relief on his face lets you know just how bad it once was.  He’s sleeping at night again, not all the time, but enough to make him look rested.  He was more himself this weekend than he’s been since we went back to Sloan to have the 2nd procedure done.  I’ve missed my husband, so much so that I was actually beginning to feel the ache in my heart from the void that he used to fill.  That void is slowly going away and the pain that was once radiating from the left side of my chest, is subsiding.  It’s a good feeling.

There is still an incredible amount of fluid retention.  There’s so much fluid in his legs that walking is difficult, and bending at the knee is near impossible.  The doctor’s were planning to drain the fluid from his belly again this morning to help make him even more comfortable - and they even plan on letting him come home in the next few days . . . maybe even TODAY!

It’s been a long and difficult road.  And we certainly aren’t past this obstacle yet, but I’d like to think we’ve come around the corner and are now approaching the final stretch.  Once he’s healed up a bit more from this last embolization, they’ll start him on the oral chemo drugs.  And we can work on getting some weight back on his, now, 140 pound frame.

We’re SO ready for that break.  And we’re still hopeful that it’s just about within our reach.

For the continued love, for the continued prayers, thank you.

Chris is still in the hospital, and my gut says he’ll be there for another week or so.  He’s still in some pretty good pain, he’s still pretty weak and he’s still on IV fluids.

They did another endoscopy on him yesterday morning, almost hoping to find a blockage so that they’d have something to fix to offer him some type of relief, but there was none.  There was an extensive amount of inflammation (which, in my understanding, is caused from the embolization) and there were at least one, possibly more, ulcers founds.  A few biopsies were done as well, of what I’m not sure.

It’s starting to become difficult to leave him in that hospital room every night.  He’s wanting to come home, and I’m wanting him back home - badly.  But I also want him to get well, and if continuing to be at the hospital is what he needs in order to get well, than we can keep doing what we’re doing for as long as we need to.  At least in my head we can.  My heart tells another story.

Shane and Daddy are missing each other something fierce, too.  And with Jerry and Zita having both of their cars in Florida, they’ve been using our Civic while they’re here (which is the car Chris normally uses).  Every time they pull into the driveway Shane and/or our dogs get SO excited thinking that Daddy is home.  Completely breaks my heart.  To say I’m eager to have my family all back under the same roof again is an understatement.    All in due time.

We’re still hanging in there.  Moments of every day are rough, but we’re forging ahead.  We’re busy working towards the final goal - feeling good again!

I’d be lying if I said it was easy.  It’s not.  Not on any of us.  Especially not on Chris.  There are most definitely tears at the end of every day (and often, many times during) - but we’re still here and we’re still fighting and soon, we’ll be thriving again.  Until then, we’ll just keep on keeping on.

On Thursday afternoon Chris was admitted to St. Vincent’s Hospital.  He hadn’t been “right” for a few days.  He was having stomach pain and wasn’t eating or drinking much (if at all), he wasn’t able to sleep, his medications were all over the place, he was nauseous and his blood pressure was through the roof (158/107).

After several attempts (several staff members and the use of a doppler) they were finally able to locate a vein to start an IV.  He was severly dehydrated.  They started getting some fluids into him and scheduled him for an abdominal CT later in the evening.

I ran into his oncologist when I got off the elevator yesterday morning and Dr. D. said he was going down to look at the scans from the night before but that, “frankly, Chris looked terrible”.  My heart sank into my stomach and I walked down the long hallway and made my way to Chris’s room.  I could tell he was groggy (from the morphine), but he didn’t look any different to me than he looks when he’s at Sloan after the embolizations.

Dr. D. came back up about 30 minutes later and said that the scan shows that their is a lot of fluid is in belly.  There had been some (very real) concern that the tumors on his liver had already come back.  That didn’t appear to be the case (THANK GOD) and Dr. D. actually wasn’t “all that concerned about the liver”, there was still healthy liver tissue there and he wasn’t going into liver failure or anything similar.    There was also some concern about the possibility of something going on with his appendix.  His white blood cell count was elevated, he was having pain in the lower right side of his abdomen, and the scan showed something - so the doctor’s were thinking he could have appendicitis.  The plan was to drain the fluid from his belly and then call in a surgical consult for the appendix.

They ended up taking off FIVE liters of fluid (that’s 2.5 soda bottles!!!) which relieved a lot of pressure and took away some of the pain.  The surgeon came in last night and felt that the appendix may actually be fine and they’d give him a few more days and keep an eye on him.  They didn’t want to put him through useless surgery.

So, for now anyway, it appears that everything going on is related to the 2nd embolization he had on May 1.  Recovery is just harder this time around and he’s experienced more complications.  He’ll be in the hospital until at least early next week, possibly longer - then release him when they feel he’s stronger.  At least he’s close to home this time and not in NY.

Continued prayers, as always, would be greatly appreciated.  Each “event” like this is a huge scare of us and it’s comforting to know we have so many people supporting and praying for us.  We’re convinced that that’s what’s going to pull us through this.  Chris and I are in this for the long haul.  Him not being here is not an option for us, life without Chris is no life at all.  We both know that.  And we know you do, too.  xoxo

Shane’s (amazing!) grandparents got together and gifted Shane with a brand-spankin’ new “big boy ride on”!!  The kid was seriously thrilled!!!

As you can see, he was quickly starting to outgrow his first “power wheels”, which, really, is  a shame considering he just discovered his love for it about 9 months ago!Look at the look on our kid’s face!!  A cross between total concentration and complete terror!  Cousin Timmy made the trip to CT with his dad (thanks, Tim!!) to help us celebrate Shane’s birthday.  These guys are best buds when it’s just the two of them - Shane adores Timmy (and his knowledge of all things Thomas (the Train!)

Such a good boy!!!  “Sharing” is a big thing around our house and it’s a word that’s used a lot when we have family/friends over!  Shane’s not so big on sharing his stuff, but he does it (and looks for acknowledgement for having done so!!!)  None the less, he did share his new ride-on with Timmy and even gave him a turn behind the wheel!  Love this boy of ours!

Stay tuned for a few more birthday pictures and a video, too!!

Yesterday our friends and family showed us what it means to be surrounded in love and support.  As you all poured into Chuck’s to lift Chris’s spirit and to help support our family, our hearts were overfilled with pure, raw emotion.  And with gratitude.

We have no words that can adequately express what yesterday meant to us.  Your generosity aside, it was incredibly comforting to be surrounded by so many people that love us and are fighting along side with us.  To say our spirit’s were lifted is an understatement.  We feel re-fueled.  Ready to drive right through whatever road block comes next on this journey of ours. 

To those of you who made the trip, from near or far, we thank you.  To those who wanted to be there and who are supporting us still, we thank you.  To our incredible families, we’d be unable to make it through a day without you.

To Joe Russo and the folks at Chuck’s, thank you for offering to host the benefit at your restaurant.  Chris and I have many fond memories of Chuck’s and yesterday’s event was just one more for the memory books.  We look forward to sharing many more meals there together.

To the Russo family, thank you for all of your hard work yesterday.  From making all the food, serving all the drinks, cleaning all the tables and working the raffle and silent auction - yesterday wouldn’t have been possible without all of you.

To Chris Buesing, Amy Darrah, Melissa & Doug, Luna Salon, G & S Specialties and all the other businesses who offered their services/merchandise as donations, we thank you.

But mostly, to Sue and Jamie Buesing, yesterday was possible because of you guys.  We know the work you put into making this benefit the huge success that it was, to say we’re grateful just doesn’t cut it.  For your endless trips from PA to CT to offer your support (often with 3 young kids in tow), for your phone calls, for your encouraging words, for knowing what we need before we do, for always being RIGHT THERE - we thank you.  We love you.  We’re lucky to have you behind us, and we know it.

Today, our hearts are filled and our minds are clear.  Thank you all for that gift.