I know. I know. It’s been a while since I’ve given this blog any attention. That’s because all of my attention has been going exclusively to my family. I have literally had zero time for much else, other than 15-20 minutes of yoga a day, which is essential at this point. So, what about Trent? *Sigh. I really don’t know where to begin. There may not be much literary merit to this blog due to the fried nature of my brain, but I’ll give it a go. Do good, don’t quit, right?

Ok. Midsummer Trent started and completed somewhere between 35-38 radiation treatments. These treatments were aimed specially at neutralizing the primary tumor in his back. He went for treatment Monday-Friday, daily for about 7 weeks. In addition, he was also taking an oral chemo every other week. He was sick. It burned his back and made all the hair on his chest fall out. He was exhausted. It kind of feels like tired is his new normal. That makes me very very sad. I can’t tell you if the radiation did its job or not. There was a CT scan location mix up and we missed the appointment and haven’t rescheduled so we’re not sure if the radiation was beneficial. I still see a tumor every morning when I wake up so…Honestly, I’m not sure if we haven’t rescheduled because we are forgetful or just don’t want to know. I feel like it’s a very real combination of both. We’re in this very transitional space, moving away from traditional medicine and into a more natural approach to this thing and I think we want a break from knowing for right now. We’ve had to be hyperaware of so much lately, we need and deserve a break. So, we’re doing a reconnaissance mission to Big Denver City this week. And yes, we are excited. It’s work and play, the main objective being finding products necessary for the next phase of Trent’s natural treatment. Trent has decided that unless a trial falls into our laps that is just made for him there will be no more chemotherapy. Ahhh, that’s where my brain has been – totally preoccupied with what this means for our family. For our parents. For our kids. What this means for me. What it means for Trent. To bucketlist or not to bucketlist? That is the question.

I think I’ve seen Trent feel better than he is now. There’s the exhaustion which is likely keeping him in bed even as I write this (I’m at the dentist with a kid – life goes on). We’ve both had quite the diet change so it’s difficult to say if his weight loss can be contributed to clean eating or cancer, but Chef Trent hasn’t seen 183lbs since 2005. It’s not easy to offset the exhaustion but we’re working on getting back to a more active Trent D. Digglesworth. See below.

His bike is awesome and I’d buy a hundred more if it meant Cole would keep running into the bushes to get away from his Daddy. We live for these moments.

Trent doesn’t seem to be struggling as much with GI issues since ending the chemotherapy/radiation, thank goodness. Now, we need a little help going thanks to the morphine/norco. It’s not exactly better than the alternative, but it’s a little better than the alternative. I think we both notice an increase in brain fogginess. The words just don’t come quite as quick as they used to and his short term memory is – wait, what was I talking about? Patience. That’s what I have developed in spades. I will answer his question about why Lily, why Gavin, why Cole as often as I need to. And I do, answer the same questions, over and over again. Chemobrain is a real. It makes me mad. The same brain the produced these brilliant children is the same one that turns right turns into lefts. I’ll say this, we make a lot of u-turns. And that’s ok with me.

It feels like we’re getting used to another new normal and this normal is back to needing more help. We’ve always needed help, but we’ve been told we make this look easy. I’m here to tell you this shit is just about as hard as it gets. That’s probably one of the added bonuses of being a young buck with the big C. He makes cancer look good. And he does because he’s so damn tough, but mama knows what’s really going on and I’m here to remind you that I had a baby at 17,  divorced at 23, played volleyball in college as a mother of 2, 50% of my kids have a fatal heart condition and I taught middle school English – this is harder than all of those things combined. The sadness, the guilt, the isolation, the smile faking. It all sucks. What doesn’t suck is knowing that my parents have my back no matter how big of an asshole I am – and about a month ago, I was. It doesn’t suck knowing that my mom loves my husband and when she calls him “son” she means it. It doesn’t suck knowing that our friends will show up for us, the snotty-nose, teary-eyed messes that we can be. It doesn’t suck knowing that the real men in my life will show up for my kids because they need it. Living in Austin absolutely doesn’t suck.

 

Cheap flights to Colorado really really don’t suck. Faith and yoga, yeah, neither one of those things sucks either. I guess I write that to urge you to reach out to the person in your life who is going through. And if that person is you, and you don’t know what to do next reach out to me. I guarantee I know someone who knows someone. Just don’t be alone. And if you are alone see two sentences above. We learned this cannot be done alone. It’s actually the exact opposite way it should be done. We’re supposed to be together, in birth and death.

So, here’s what’s on our minds lately, in no particular order:

1. Gavin is sick and we’re going out of town this week. Lame.

2. We’re going out of town this week and I need to do laundry.

3. It will be 30 degrees in Colorado. I’m a Texas girl.😳

4. Volleyball season is over and we’re moving straight into basketball with no break.😳

5. We really don’t want Mom to be totally wiped out after taking care of the kiddos. That’s not fair.

6. Sleeping.

7. Coming to terms with bucket-listing.

8. Breathing

9. How we might be changing your life. Hoping it’s for the better.

10. Sabrinna, Lily, Gavin and Cole

11. Random dark chocolate bars from California from special old friends.

I’ve lost 50 pounds since February, intentionally. I’ll probably start a blog at some point about that, but for now, it’s family.

How we make it? Hmmm. Prayer (talking) and meditation (listening). By the minute, not days, even though we have a calendar, but that’s just for organizations sake – we know better. By the minute – and I hate to tell you but there is no other way to truly live. By doing the next right thing. Letting go of the shit that doesn’t serve you. Breathing.  Being honest about everything. Optimus Prime and Bumblebee. Music. Singing loudly in the car. Little boy prayers. Celebrating little things like days without happys. Yoga. God.

So, how is Trent doing? He has cancer. He’s sad. He hurts everyday. He’s sober😊 He’s looks great in a pair of overalls. He’s deep – if you get the chance to have a real chat with that guy it will change you. He’s mad, but not everyday. He has regrets, but we’re working on that. He’s alive and he’s still Trent.

 

2 Kings 4:20-26  It is well. 

Thank you for reading. Namaste, y’all. ❤️

A

www.youcaring.com/trentlives

P.S. Stuff –

The girls are doing ok. I probably won’t write about them very much for a while. There are people who don’t, can’t or refuse to see the big picture and I won’t risk the girls for my blog.

I’ve monetized this site so you’ll likely see changes in the form of advertising on here. Please don’t go away. In fact, dig in, click away and share. You might help someone who could use a shard  experience and you help put food in my babies mouths. So, say it with me – “Click and Share!” Repeat.

www.youcaring.com/trentlives