Christmas Morning #1

Dan and I celebrated Christmas morning this morning, as we won't be home until (probably) after the New Year. Though he had to drag me out of bed, it was lovely to sit by the "fire" (heater) and open presents together. I got scrubs as a reminder that I will be a nurse soon! I love how well we know each other and that our gifts reflect that knowledge.
Now, we're packing for a trip with an unknown length and praying that God brings us back home safely and healthily together. Our poor Christmas tree has to be de-decorated and taken out, as it would be a fire hazard alone in the apartment. :(
The car will be full of presents and laundry and such, ready for the long drive north. Before we get there, we have to pick his sister up at the airport and go to a memorial service for his grandma. Then, we're off! Rolling into Santa Rosa around 2 or 3am.
We will be posting quite a bit in the near future, so stay tuned.

Merry (Howen)Christmas-morning!

Christmastime is Here

As of today, Dan and I are both on Christmas break! Finals and papers are finished, and Christmas shopping has begun. As of now I am waiting for Dan to get home from shopping with Arismendi, so we can go to the nursing Christmas party. It will be the first time all of us nursing students can sit around and relax. Ahhh.

The next few days will be filled with trying to be thrifty while picking out good gifts. It's the thought that counts, right? Having such interesting and creative in-laws makes it very difficult to think of ANYTHING to get them. We'll see what we find...
For one of our presents to each other, Dan and I are going on a celebratory date to Chili's (upscale, I know) and watching It's a Wonderful Life for the first time of the season. Yay! It will be so lovely to sit and enjoy each other without thinking about homework.

We'll technically be going home on Saturday, though we won't arrive in Rosa until the wee hours of the morning. Dan's grandma's memorial service is in Pasadena...then, off we go!

Of note, Monday will be a Stanford day--one for which we would love prayer. We're meeting with a couple doctors to figure out what lays ahead as far as treatment goes. We'll give more information when we have it. Dan isn't fond of hypothesizing, so I won't do any here either :)

I love this time of year, but trust me when I say this is going to be a very crazy next few weeks.

Hoodlums

Well, over a month has passed since our last post and what a month it has been. Let's see if I can catch you up a bit.
In early November, we took a trip to Stanford for Dan to have his first CT scan in over four months. I had been rather nervous, but Dan was fairly confident since his last few scans had shown the exact same thing: no growth. Unfortunately, the scan showed some growth in the pancreatic tumor. Since the liver tumors had not changed at all, the doctor was confident that something could be done besides chemo and scheduled a PET scan to measure the metabolism activity of the growing tumor. We were obviously disappointed to hear the news, but tried to keep trucking along until we knew more. So, we went back to La Mirada to wait for a few weeks and get some homework done.
Thanks to some family friends (the Elliots), Dan and I went to Disneyland to enjoy some much needed magical fun. To the chagrin of many of our friends, we also did homework there!

Anyway, the next couple of weeks flew by with days filled with papers and tests and student teaching and precepting at the hospital and working. We just kept looking towards Thanksgiving break--a time for family and football and rest. But also time for the PET scan.
Finally, Thanksgiving break arrived and we drove up to Santa Rosa, grabbed dinner, went to sleep and then awoke dreadfully early to drive to Stanford again. The PET scan went uneventfully and back we went to Rose town to celebrate with family and friends. We had been told earlier that we wouldn't hear any results until the Tuesday after Thanksgiving.


We met up with my godson Callaghan and his mom and dad as they moved into a brilliant and huge new house. Speaking of huge, Cal is over 2 and a half feet tall now and 30 pounds...at only 17 months! I find myself so sad that I have to reintroduce myself to Cal every time we meet due to the distance between our homes. Hopefully, soon, the Faircloths and the Howens will live in closer proximity.
We spent Thanksgiving Day with my folks, enjoying time with both sets of grandparents and several aunts and uncles. The turkey was amazing, as was the Christmas music that followed Santa coming down 34th Street in the Thanksgiving Day Parade (which was so frequently interrupted by Dan's desire to watch the football games).

After a bit of shopping with Gram and Mom on Black Friday, we drove to Lodi for a genuine German dinner made by Bob and Jamie's German exhange student, Stefi. An interesting evening followed filled with examining Paco the skeleton and watching The Proposal as a family (mildly awkward? yes). Come Saturday morning, we left again for La Mirada, sad to leave our families and a place where leaves actually turn colors.

Fast forward to yesterday. I had to work and Dan had school all day, so we planned that Dan would just call whenever the doctor called. Everytime my phone rang, I jumped to hear what had happened. Instead, I had to fend off others looking for information that I had not yet received. Work kept me busy and distracted, and the day came and went without any phone call from the doctor. Dan emailed her asking for the results, and she gave none, instead asking for the best number to reach us.

Translation: Bad news.

Dr. Cho called this morning to inform us that the PET scan had revealed a great deal of activity in the pancreatic tumor. Fortunately, that tumor was the ONLY one that lit up. The liver tumors still look "treated" from the SIRspheres from a year and half ago. In other words, the liver tumors are inactive and quite possibly, dead.
Now, being completely honest, we received both good and bad news today. We must act on both: remember the good news and praise the Lord AND be anxious enough to take action on the cancer in Dan's pancreas.

At this point, Dr. Cho has contacted the Radiation Oncologist (RO) to get the "go-ahead" for a treatment called Cyberknife. It is a form of highly focused radiation that can treat tumors that are surgically unresectable. The radiation acts like a knife of sorts to "blast" the cancer cells without harming other tissues like skin or healthy pancreas. There are nearly no side effects from this out-patient procedure, which consists of a planning session and 3 to 5 one-hour sessions of the radiation. In research studies, doctors have seen excellent results with some patients having complete eradication of their tumors.

Dan and I are very hopeful that the other oncologist will begin the process for Cyberknife, which would most likely occur in late December or early January. Dan sees this as perhaps God's way of getting rid of the "hoodlums" forever (Dan's earliest term for the invaders living in his liver and pancreas). I certainly hope he is right.

For right now, Dan and I are okay. We were expecting this as a result and are anxious to get rid of the tumor that has been an unwelcome part of our family for over two years. We are enjoying a day of Christmas decorating and grocery shopping. Homework is getting done and movies are being watched. God has blessed with each other and has been faithful to protect Dan thus far. I can only pray that the biggest blessings and miracles are to come.

We appreciate your prayers and support. I promise to be better at updating everyone, especially with medical details. Now, onto to buy a Christmas tree!

Halloween/Indian Birthday/Reformation Day

So, we made it to Halloween with very little pomp. No pumpkins this year, no kids trick-or-treating at our door. We just have so much going on that we figured a day of homework and a scary movie with friends would be great. We ended up watching The Ring with the Wyatts...I hate scary movies. Especially the ones with scary little kids. Eek.

Anywho, on our way home, I peeked my head in the open door of our next door neighbors. I had heard them yell, "Surprise!" earlier and wanted to see what was up. I should have known better because within seconds I was pulled inside to pile up a plate of Indian food. Our neighbors (Abraham and Sangeetha) are from India, have an incredible testimony and are the most gracious and hospitable people I have ever known. Dan and I must look starving...they always want to feed us!
After putting together a plate of food (I was told it's Northern Indian cuisine this time), Sangeetha and her friend put tons more food in baggies for lunch tomorrow. My goodness, my fridge has been overtaken by food with names I cannot even pronounce!
Once the food was gathered, one of the party guests asked Dan about teaching in America and standards and such. In the midst of this conversation, Abraham began to snore. He didn't just doze off, he fell dead asleep! We laughed with his wife and friends as they took pictures of his untimely nap. Finally, we were able to sneak out of the apartment...but not before a piece of cake was put in our hands, too!

Now, we are home. A full day of work behind us and an extra hour of sleep ahead of us. I will leave you with my favorite conversation of the day:

Ash: Happy Reformation Day!
Dan: Happy day of the first wall write!
Ash: What?
Dan: Martin Luther, he posted something on the wall.
(For those of you who get this, bravo. Oh, Facebook.)

Teaching and Oncology

Almost a month since our last post. Shoot, that must mean something is eating our time. What could it be? Oh, wait, I know. School!

Dan is headlong into the credentialing program. Writing papers, hours of observation at Anaheim High, pages and pages of reading. He works so incredibly hard (yet always finds time for football). Thankfully, he'll have his credential in 8 short-long months. (The UCI anteater, left)

I am already into my second preceptorship. After spending 8 weeks on a telemetry floor, I am positively thrilled to be working on an oncology floor at a Magnet hospital (St Joseph's Hospital Orange, below). My preceptor is young and talented and patient. On my first day with her, she threw an IV kit to me and said, "Do it." And I did it :) My patients are incredible and tough, though several have brought me close to tears.
I sought out to keep Dan's cancer a secret from my preceptor and my patients. Unfortunately, that plan has already failed. One patient (my favorite, thus far) needed a neupogen (white blood cell growth inducer) shot and just shook his head at me as I walked in with the needle.
"How many of these could you have possibly given?"
"Quite a few."
"Impossible, this is your first day on the floor."
"Honestly, I gave my husband neupogen shots for nearly 5 months."
"Oh, ok. Here's my arm." Then, he started to cry and pour out his heart as I gave him the injection. It was the only way I could convince him to let me give him his meds!
This same patient has since told every charge nurse that they need to hire me when I graduate. Somehow, all of these nurses know that I want to work at Stanford...I didn't tell them!
It has been encouraging to have people tell me that I am good at what I long to do. My confidence is continually something that I need to work on, so this is helping.
I love oncology...as a nurse.

On that note, I hate oncology...as a patient's wife.
Dan has an appointment at Stanford next week. His first CT in 4 months. I am trying to remember God's faithfulness in Dan's recovery. Yet, being on an onc floor just reminds me of how far he has come and how easily he could be one of those patients. God willing, Dan never ends up on an onc floor again. We'll update everyone next week. (Stanford Cancer Center, below)Time to get to work. Homework never sleeps.

Forgetting

Most of the time, forgetting things is problematic.
Forgetting keys? You're stuck where you are.
Forgetting assignments? You're not passing that class.
Forgetting meds? You're gonna get written up.
Forgetting anniversaries? You're gonna be buying flowers for a while.
This week, though, I found out that somethings are nice to forget.

First of all, during the summer, one of my patients at work pulled away from me and fell. The doctor gave her a clean bill of health. No fractures or anything. Though, she was older so she had bruising and pain. I tried to slow her fall and guide her down. I sat her on the trash can because then I could guide her to the ground. As a pessimist, I think about all the bad things that could have happened that maybe I just don't remember.
Though this was over a month ago, I still get nervous just thinking about her. Did she hit her head on the railing on the wall, but I can't remember? Did I leave something out of the report? Is she going to sue? Could I lose my job or my savings? Does her doctor-son want to pinpoint new symptoms that we didn't see? The list goes on.
Everyone at the hospital tells me to stop being so hard on myself. This lady was no picnic. She threatened many of the RNs and aides that she would make up a story about them and have them fired. She was impulsive and weak--a bad mix.
The House Supervisor (Charge RN over the whole hospital) told me not to lose any sleep over the fall--this lady was not known for making things easy.
The charge RN assured me that the patient would be monitored and that I prevented more damage.
My boss told me not to worry about it because falls happen and we learn from them.
My husband wants me to remember all the good things I've done rather than the one mistake I've made in the past year at my job.
So, I've been trying to forget. I learned a lot from the situation, but I need to get passed it. I want to get passed it. I don't want to be afraid all the time about something I can't change. The good news is, I went a whole couple days without thinking about the patient. It felt good.
(Please join me in praying that no residual problems are left over for the patient. And pray that I can get passed this as a learning situation).

The second thing that was forgotten was not forgotten by me, but by my teacher. During devotional time in class, she asked for prayer requests. One had to do with a man from church with Stage 3-4 pancreatic CA. As the teacher began to express her sympathy for the man's family "because pancreatic cancer has the worst prognosis rates and that only miracles can keep people alive, etc" I instinctively looked up to see the pitiful face she usually gives me when talking about cancer. To my surprise, for the first time in this program, my teacher did not mention my husband. She forgot my husband had cancer. I love it when people forget that Dan has cancer.
Someday, I'd like to forget that Dan had cancer. Someday.

Another thing I'm glad gets forgotten are my sins. I don't forget them, but God does. When I repent and ask for forgiveness, He removes them from me. Since He is omniscient, it's hard for me to imagine that God can completely forget my sins. Yet, I know that because of Christ, God sees the cross instead of my sins when He thinks about me. Hallelujah.

Here's to forgetting things. Sometimes, it's good for your health.

Stand Up

I remember the first time I saw Patrick Swayze dance. I was perhaps a bit too young to be watching Dirty Dancing, but I didn't understand the plot yet...just the music and the dancing. Swayze was the debonair camp dance instructor who danced his way into to the heart of a rich girl and proved that money isn't everything. How often have I watched that movie over the years? I cannot count. My mom, my girl friends, my grandma...we all fell in love with the incredibly suave and graceful Patrick Swayze. Now, I can say I remember the day he danced out of this world.
As most know by now, Swayze was diagnosed with a particularly vicious form of pancreatic cancer in early 2008. Due to the spotlight of his fame, the nation watched as his weight waxed and waned, as he tried new treatments, as he fought for hope. His battle was actually far longer than most have the chance to fight against pancreatic cancer. Yet, my heart is heavy to see a figure of hope and perseverance lost. My prayers go to his wife and family.

This post is not actually about Patrick Swayze alone. This is about the unacceptable reality that cancer plays in this world. Swayze was joined by 1499 other Americans who lost their lives to this common enemy. As thousands of fans mourn the loss of their favorite dancer, millions are mourning the loss of their husbands, their wives, their mothers, their fathers, their sisters, their brothers and their friends. My heart is even heavier for them.

I do not have cancer, but cancer is a part of my life.

Half of my grandmother's siblings have succumbed to cancer in the past 10 years. My grandma is a survivor, and one of her brothers is, too. Cancer unfortunately runs in the family.


Over two years ago, Dan was diagnosed with an equally unfriendly form of pancreatic cancer--stage 4, inoperable. The summer of his diagnosis is the closest to hell I can imagine for now (see my mother-in-law's blog from 2 years ago). Though his treatment plan started out rocky to say the least, God blessed us immeasurably with his doctor at Stanford Medical Center (he even received chemo a few rooms away from Swayze!). Now, Dan has beaten many of the odds the doctors placed against him. He still has spots here and there; spots which could be cancer or could be scar tissue. Every CT scan report is a hold-your-breath-pray-for-a-miracle moment. Dan is confident, though I still fear for the day those spots decide to grow. For now, though, we live a happy and normal life with hardly any reminder of the cancer except for his cane.

In the next year, I hope to become an oncology nurse. Nothing has been clearer than the fact that I am called to work with those who have heard those dreaded words. Whether working with those sweet bald children with crying parents or grandparents who have no reason to believe they can pull through. God has been gracious in replenishing our hope for the future. I need to use that hope to help others find hope, also. I hate cancer. I love people with cancer.

Though I have work tonight and homework to do, I have found myself watching the Stand Up to Cancer broadcast from last September. Never before had that many people joined together to attack cancer. Never before had so many celebrities risen up to support cancer research. If you have never watched the broadcast, I urge you to do so. It is full of music, celebrities, and facts. The facts will scare you. I hope they do, at least. Facts save lives.

I am crying now. Crying out of sympathy for those who are losing the battle. Crying out of fear for my husband. Crying out of frustration for the lack of a cure. Crying out of hope.

You don't have to cry with me, but please stand with me.
Learn what you can. Take preventative measures. Walk a Relay for Life lap in honor of someone you know. Remember those who have lost the fight. Pray for those who are still fighting.

Stand up to cancer.