When Kevin was diagnosed with cancer one year ago and I made the decision to start blogging, I made myself a vow that I was going to remain honest about my feelings.  Tonight, I honestly don't feel like updating this blog.  I have been putting it off because I've been waiting for a day where I feel like I won't come across as negative or scared--a "good day."  But perhaps there is someone out there reading this who will feel affirmed by my honest admission that today isn't the greatest of days and things have been hard these last two weeks.  I have been struggling with feelings of frustration towards the doctors and medical staff, feelings of resentment towards people with "normal lives," and feeling irritated when I get pitiful looks from people who learn about our situation.  I feel sharp stabs of anger when what should be happy moments (Bri learning to swim or Claire using the potty) are rained on by the black cloud over our lives.  I feel whispers of guilt that my children are not getting all of me because the majority of my brain cells are devoted to cancer.  I feel so restless sometimes, like my skin doesn't fit and I wish I could wiggle out of it.  I want to be what my family needs all the time as a wife and as a mother, but who can be all things at all times?  This 2 week break has been great, but the looming third transplant awaits and is thus providing good soil for all of my negative fruit. 

Kevin is day 25 post transplant.  He began the conditioning chemo for the allo (donor) transplant this afternoon and will have this for three days (outpatient).  The chemo is called Fludaribine and is a mild agent compared to what he's endured already.  On Friday morning he will receive Total Body Irradiation (TBI or "flash" radiation) which is a low dose, one time treatment in order to condition his immune system to prepare for the donor cells.  He will receive Matt's stem cells on Friday afternoon.  We will see his blood counts drop from the chemo, but after about two weeks we should see Matt's cell engrafting.  There will be some graft versus host symptoms (GVHD) so please pray that these will be mild. 

We will be going to the clinic every day and if there are any major adverse GVHD symptoms, Kev will be admitted to the hospital ASAP.  The transplant doc told us today that she's never done an allo where someone has avoided the hospital, so please pray for us.  This is a scary transplant because there are many unknowns.  A small percentage live with chronic illness from GVHD and 1 out of 10 people pass away from this procedure.  When you have won the reverse lotto many times, your brain is conditioned to go to these scary statistics and get cozy there. 

Jesus prayed this way, "Your (God's) kingdom come and Your will be done."  But what if God's will isn't what I want?  What if God's will is devastating to Kevin, me, or our children?  Cancer isn't God's will, right?  So why does Kev have cancer?  I do not have easy answers for these questions, and I truly don't think I am meant to.  My thoughts are flawed, fallible, and frankly, I often make poor decisions for myself.  God knows this, of course, and tells us to "BE STILL AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD."  Can a more simple statement of "trust me" ever be made?  I interpret it this way, "Kristin, stop thinking about everything and trying to figure out the outcome.  You have no idea what I'm up to because you're not me.  In fact, you should be thanking me that I don't leave decisions up to you." 

Here is the other piece of amazing news:  "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and petition with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."  (this is Philippians 4: 6-7).
Not only does God want us to be still and trust Him, but he also wants us to talk to Him about how we feel and how we would like things to go.  This is why it's a RELATIONSHIP with God, not a dictatorship where His will is stuffed down our throats.  Thank you for prayer, God, and for our ability to talk with you. 

And I thank you all for reading my words.  This is, by far, the most personal writing I have ever done and I trust that God does amazing things with messy honesty.

Love,
Kristin