These last 8 months have truly been an indescribable experience.  Similar to how I remember things early on in my childhood, certain moments have striking clarity and others play in my mind like a silent movie.
 The moment of diagnosis I remember what I was wearing.  I remember before the doctor came in I was entertaining the kids by blowing up latex gloves.  I remember coming home from the doctor and trying to eat a potato chip then spitting it out because I couldn't swallow.  I remember laying down in my closet that day and crying out to Jesus for help.
I remember putting ice packs on Kev's back, feeling so helpless that he was lying awake in pain. 
I remember carrying Kev's urine in a milk jug through the streets of downtown Chicago :-).  I remember the moment Kev pulled his bow back on the deck, and the day he lifted Bri back onto his shoulders. 
I remember the doctor's words, "you earned an A in chemo response."  And finally, today, I can remember the words, "Babe, they're releasing me!  I'm coming home today."

That's right!  He's home!

Following my last post, his levels continued to rise, and today they doubled.  Although his ANC isn't at 500 (it's at 100), the doc felt comfortable with him coming home and staying in isolation until Monday--where she feels very confident that his ANC will be at a minimum, 500.  I want to put a shout out to Doc Williams for her empathy and willingness to think outside of the box.  Doc, you are a blessing to us--truly. 
We spent the day playing with the girls and enjoying being together.  We literally smiled all day at each other.  Considering how much I despise cheesy writing, you all can get an idea of how great today was. 

I feel this peace inside me that God knows what He's doing with Kev.  There is a song lyric, "before heartache can ever touch my life, it has to go through Your hands."  If we need to wait for his levels, we will wait.  We will trust You.  I cannot pray for healing, then complain about the way God is doing it. 

Kev will be visiting the doc weekly for awhile and is now beginning his "post-transplant" lifestyle.  This includes no swimming, no raw meat, filtered water, being re-vaccinated (his immune system is like a newborn baby), and no buffets (or any other bacteria-loving area). 
In six months he will begin to receive maintenance chemotherapy, which will most likely be a low dose of Velcade either one or two times a month. 

It feels good knowing that this is over and that we made it.  We killed some cancer, grew some faith, strengthened a marriage, and....well, I could go on for a while here.
God heard our prayers and He shall be given all the glory.  Please continue to pray for his blood levels, as well as that this cancer stays in remission for a long, long time.  And please promise me something:  When heartbreak hits your life, go back to God's promises to us.  That He loves.  He is wholly good.  He will never leave us. 

Love to you,
Kristin

ps) Some of you may have noted that keeping Kev's hospital admission dates private became sort of silly when he decided to become famous:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqP3HApcVfo