Hunting is Hunting

October is the elk hunt. He's prepared. He's day dreamed about the trophy. He knows exactly how to prepare the meat. He rehearses the path he needs to take and when. He's traveled the hills and knows every land mark. He has camp all set up. He gets there, completely prepared for what is coming. He heads out, like every scouting trip he has done, knowing full well that when he reaches the top of the next rise; he will be able to see the heard off in the distance in the valley below. He can smell them in the air. His breath pushes out of his lungs like a smoke signal.

He steps to the top of the hill and bends down to remove his backpack. He picks up his binoculars to glass the area below. As the dawn breaks, he breathes the cold air deep into his lungs and he whispers to himself, "Here we go!" The anticipation of all he has hoped, prepared for, and dreamed of, is about to become reality.

There is nothing but chilling silence. Peaceful anticipation rises to confusion when nothing is seen on the horizon. The elk have not made their presence known and the hunter is frustrated that this day is not going the same as all the ones before it. "What's different? Is it me? What have I done? Why would this happen to me?"

Shots ring out in the distance. The full sun lights up the sky and chill that once froze the morning dew is now gone. The soft dripping of melting ice sounds similar to a ticking clock telling my hunter to be quick and get to the next location before others do. As much work and preparation as he can do, has not resulted in what he had hoped. Anxiety from not getting his kill is setting in. Disappointment and self doubt begin to fill his mind. It's not fair and he deserves this. But what if it doesn't happen for him this year? Does he give up and quit trying? Is he jealous of other's success?

Maybe...

Why some people have all the luck and others have more challenges in this life is something I'm sure the creator will explain in enough detail to satisfy my angst. But not now. That will have to wait until my return and I know that's not today. So today I will do what I can to be prepared, go where I need to go and do all I need to do to be open to the possibilities that lay before me.

My life as I knew it, the life I planned and rehearsed for and worked hard to attain, has been changed forever by the events that have occurred since my hunter took his first ambulance ride almost 730 days ago. Its not just what has happened, but my perceptions of it all that have changed the course of my life. The reality is, there are more hard days than anyone should have to endure. Scott keeps reminding me that this is the same for most people, our reasons things seem so hard are just different. He didn't quit hunting when the opportunity wasn't present, he kept going, preparing, and being hopeful that next time would be successful.

It's hard to look at and talk about the messy, dirty, angry truth - I may have to live without him some day. I may be doing all of this to end up a widow. But so may every other wife out there - No one knows when their time is up. I just got a bit of a heads up I wish I didn't have. Do I feel bitter about it? Yes. Does it make me sad. Yes.

Do I have a right to feel cheated...I think so. Anyone would. I've just learned to work really hard at changing the focus of my feelings. Negative feelings come and I force them go. Sometimes they are fleeting thoughts and other times they move in and keep me from better things. I've learned a lot from giving myself permission to feel what I feel, say what I need to, write it down, then let it go. Trying not to feel is a more of a waste of energy which ends up being pretty destructive.

I get defensive, edgy, and loose my complete cool. My moods swing and I loose myself. I often say, Why us? What is this supposed to teach me, and why do our lessons seem so much more difficult than others around us? Oh that comparison thing... it gets me sometimes! I must confess, my family hears me yell, sees me cry, and feel me pull away to be alone to understand what I am doing and how I am going to cope from time to time. I don't have it all figured out and I don't pretend to.

The miracle here is that my family also sees me pull it all back together again and keep on going. They see me wipe my tears, apologize when I am wrong, take care of myself when I need to, and are learning that it's not about living a perfect life. It's not about getting what you want every time you search and hope for it. Its not about being good enough so that life is always good back to you.

I want my children to learn to have the courage to face what they don't know how to do and experience what life has to offer no matter how good or bad it may feel at the time. Having the fortitude to call things as they truly are, living with that kind of honesty, not making excuses, and not staying stuck in the yuck. This is how they will survive any challenges in life and still have joy along the way. Hunting is hunting, whether for bulls and bucks or joy and hope. The same mental strengths are required.

My husband hates that I write this blog. He can't listen to me talk about it. It drives him crazy. It's too real and painful for him. I asked him if he wanted me to stop writing and he told me no. "This is for other people, not me. Its too heartbreaking to hear how you feel and know there is nothing I can do about it."  This conversation sparked another where he realized that understanding how I really feel can help him know what to say or do to be more supportive of me and vice versa.

This is a huge deal. Caregivers often feel everything becomes about the person they are caring for and there is nothing left for them. This can happen in parenting and marriage too, not just illness and could be part of the reason divorce rates are so high. Scott just put the final board in a bridge we've been building across the gap of this illness for almost 2 years. Because of this breakthrough understanding, we can finally allow each other the freedom to be, feel, and express ourselves in the ways that make sense for us. We can each let go, because we have the security of knowing we won't fall into that chasm of difference, with a sure way to connect.

So, he doesn't like my blog, but wants me to keep doing it because writing about my feelings helps me. I used to begrudge his hunting trips, but he still went and we're still married. I've learned to appreciate the hunt for him. Not because I love it, but because it's necessary for him. We're finally on the same page.

Sometimes the hope is simply recognizing that no matter how painful, there is a beauty, a strength, loyalty, and a love that can come about no other way, than through a very difficult trial. Sometimes you get what you've worked for and sometimes you end up stronger with the benefit of knowing what to do next time. No matter how we could begrudge the harshness of this illness and the havoc it has wreaked on our lives,  we only truly appreciate what we have, by working in our own ways to keep it all together, and continue our hunt for hope.

The 25%

There are a lot of statistics about the success of relationships when one partner becomes seriously ill. Numerous people have actually said to me, "I don't know how you do it. It must be so hard to stay."

Yep. It's hard to stay but it would be harder to leave. When the thought creeps in of how easy it would be not to deal with this disease...I remember that life wasn't easy before this happened to us either. To measure the success of a relationship based on how easy or difficult it is, is pointless in the big scheme of things.

You must know sorrow to understand and embrace joy. Opposition in all things, is what makes us grow and reach beyond what we think we are capable of at the time.

Scott and I have been married for 17 years. All of them hard in one way or another. We don't live a fairy tale life by any means. We have fought, literally, to stay together. Every time the world says, "Why do you stay?" We show them and we grow stronger.

I read the other day that 75% percent of couples who have one spouse diagnosed with a serious illness, mental, physical, or terminal, do not stay together. Not because one spouse dies, but because one, or both leave the relationship. I wondered if this is really true.

Being sick or sharing a life with someone who is, to say the very least, is difficult on many levels for many reasons. No one is sheltered from a life altering diagnosis. It changes everything, and many people, it seems, don't have the ability to accept and grow with what comes.

The words to describe something so difficult don't come easy. Finding hope and hanging on when everyday seems more hopeless than the next, can be terrifying and exhausting. Giving up does seem easier at times, but giving up doesn't solve the problem.

At the end of the day, Scott still has brain cancer. I wish every moment of every day that he didn't, but he does. There is not much he or I can do to change that, outside of treatment and hope. The only way to win the war is to keep marching forward, so that's what we do. Right, wrong, or indifferent. We keep fighting.

We fight with each other. We have bad days. We struggle with depression, sadness, anger, and guilt. We feel sorry for each other and for our kids. This was not the way we planned to live our lives.

The way I see it, we have some options. We can leave...and he still has brain cancer. We can fight and argue, and guess what? He still has cancer. We can feel defeated and frustrated, letting all the negative in and surround us in it's unfairness...

Or

We can find ways to be thankful for the time we have together. We can embrace the life we have and make the best of it. We can keep our chins up and remember in the moments when it is hard, why we love each other in the first place and wanted to have a life together.

I say this all the time, nothing about this is easy. But I have come to realize that isn't true. Living with Scott, is easier than living without him. I know this. Some days are just brutal, no matter who you are or what you face.

Getting to have love in my life is something I cannot take for granted, no matter how hard it is to keep going. I won't just walk away because this isn't what I signed up for. The hope is, neither will Scott.

Days are getting better and better as time and healing goes on. We take them as they come and do our best. The thing I work on most is forgiving myself for the moments when I feel myself breaking. The moments I am so angry about the things I have to do now and the life I am still mourning, the times when I feel weak and afraid of what will be.

But they are usually just moments. I find if I can let them be and move through those times and not take up residence there, I can forgive myself and get on to something more productive.

I have learned, that even in suffering, love can shine through. When my faith fails me, I look for love and whenever I see it, there is hope waiting to be found right along with it. I don't know what the future brings, but I do know that the 25% of us who  make it through without leaving...

Are all in the best of company. Hopes finds those who look for it.

Don't Put Down Your Rifle...

Cancer. It's a word no one wants to hear. It's the equivalent of saying to my hunter, "Game and Fish has your spot closed to hunting because the soil tests in the area came back positive for radio activity." No hunting this season.

Wait, wait, wait....What? "For how long? Is this going to be permanent? Can they fix that? Will we have to find another place to hunt? Can we find another place?"  Everything about the way we hunted, before, has changed. Everything we thought we knew, is now questioned. Suddenly, without warning, our season goes from a sure thing, to a maybe because of something completely out of our control.

I don't know if this hunting analogy works for everyone, but it certainly rings true for us. For years, our life revolved around hunting seasons. Not just hunting, but fishing, camping, any outdoor activity that required hard work, determination, and some good ole' fashioned gumption. Being prepared is a must. Knowing exactly what tools and equipment you 'll need, just in case, is essential for a good outcome. 

Brain tumor world is really not that fun and there is really no way to prepare for it. It can literally suck all the life out of you, if you let it.

How do you keep going, when there isn't much to look forward to day to day? There's the nausea, the constant headaches and swelling, not sleeping, or eating, some weird oily discharge you can't explain, not being able to fully control your emotions, people wanting to help but not being able to tell them anything to do that will make it better, watching your hair fall out in patches, taking poison that comes in a bio-hazard bag which you have to explain to your kids to never, ever touch, wanting to go places and do things that you used to enjoy very much, but not having the energy it takes to sustain those activities...then feeling angry and sorry that you can't do the things you used to or feel the same as you used to...and all you want is for things to go back to the normal you knew before all of this.

How do you keep going when your world is upside down and literally closed to hunting?

You take some deep breaths. You force yourself to smile, even when you don't want to. You recognize beauty in your home, your family, friends, in your neighborhood, wherever you are. You take notice of the tiniest of things that are good and make yourself recall what it feels like to not be sick, tired, hopeless...You listen to music that makes you want to dance (even if you can't), you sing, write, watch your favorite movies, you get outside and breath fresh air (even if only for moments at a time).

Most importantly, you keep preparing for when hunting season will be open again. Whether hunting big game or hunting for hope, it's the same. If you put your rifle down, and never pick it up again, you stop taking care of your gear and equipment, reading up on the latest tactics and best hunting practices, when the season opens  again, you lose interest, will not be ready, and are more likely to pass on the opportunity. The greatest hunters I know, know that when hunting season ends, this is only prep time for the next. They don't stop hunting, they just keep on making plans and getting ready for next time.

Same with hunting for hope. You will need to read blogs, books, articles, scripture, tumblr, memes, whatever little quote people are posting on social media about hope...Copy your favorite on post-its and stick them everywhere around your house. Keep talking to people who can really inspire you, who make you feel like you are up to the task at hand. Let your friends come to visit and take you places. Let others remind you of who you still are to them. Keep a gratitude journal. Write negative feelings on pieces of paper and crumple them up once you're done, or better yet burn them! Surround yourself with happy thoughts, people, and events. There is enough negativity in the everyday, that if you don't force yourself to focus on something positive, you probably won't.

Finding reasons to be happy and hopeful the in the midst of a crisis of any kind is really hard. But so is just about everything else in life. Giving up when things are at their worst, when the struggle seems to real to keep on trying, is just the same as saying, "Well, they closed the area, so no need to hunt anymore." Would you throw away all of your guns, ammo and gear?

Well, would you?

Duh...you'd go find another place. No,  it will not be the same and you won't know this new place like you knew the old one. But there is a possibility that things will be better, even more accessible, and open to hunting in a way you never thought possible before.

THIS IS HOPE MY FRIENDS!

Pick up your rifle!! Heck, sleep with it if it makes you feel better.  Keep it oiled and ready. Make sure all your gear is ready to go. Have your bag packed, filled with food, and all the essentials. Because when it opens again, or you find an alternate hunting ground, there will be nothing to hold you back from going out and getting what you are after! You will be much more likely to say YES when the opportunity presents itself because you are ready.

How does this make things better?

I know. How can it be better when cancer is taking over or even threatening your life? Nothing about that is better or good. Nothing. What we've been learning is that it isn't about the brain tumor, the effects of radiation and chemo, or the loss of a career. Its about the life we're still able to live, in spite of all of that. It's taught us that the relationships we have with one another are much more valuable than the job, our health, or any other thing.

Material objects, things and circumstances come and go. Health is not always in our own control. The things which are constant and that remain with us forever, are those tied to emotion. What we think, how we feel and make others feel, what we know and learn, how much we love and are loved...these are what we take with us through life and beyond. Nothing else.

Don't put down your rifle because hunting season might be over for now. Keep it ready. Make yourself ready for when the new season of hope arrives. It takes a lot of effort. It is purposeful, not accidental. Keep yourself going by letting yourself feel good, even if it's just for moments at a time. Sometimes, it's the smallest moments that keep us from falling totally off the cliff into total despair.

Find your happiest memory and re-play it over and over again. It doesn't matter that it isn't where you are right this very second. It matters that it happened, and you were there to experience it at all. Find one reason to laugh. I promise it will help. Do it.

One of the things that keeps us going the most right now is laughter. That, and holding the rifle upright.

Ready, aim...fire. Hope is like that.

What We've Learned in 365 Days

It's day 365. We made it. One year. Last February 10, 2014 my husband came home from work, cooked dinner and sat down. A series of events would be set in motion that would prove to be life changing for all of us. As what was initially thought to be a stroke, turned out to be a malignant oligodendra glioma  (a grade 3 primary brain tumor) took almost this entire past year to fully diagnose.

My hunter is always prepared for the worst case scenario. (He thinks.) Our home is laden with bug out bags, water tight boxes, ammo, first aid kits, weapons, and clothing for every type of weather. Our garage and basement are filled with tools galore, camping equipment, other hunting and fishing supplies along with maps and GPS devices with saved locations not only for prime hunting, but also safe places to hide if the worst possible thing happens, an all out apocalypse. Zombie or not, he's ready. The only thing missing is an under ground bunker stock piled for the next 20 years. But Scott informs me he certainly has a plan for this too.

All his planning, practicing and preparedness, used to drive me up the wall.  You might still catch me rolling my eyes at the mention of a practice drill or a scouting trip. I'll be the first to admit I saw no real point in doing all this "getting ready" for something I assumed would never actually happen.

Scoff now....and eat a big heaping mess of humble pie made of crow, later. It's every bit as tasty as it sounds too,  by the way.

What I've been forced to learned so far from this roller coaster ride over the past year is that ups and downs will continue whether I want them to or not. Have I ever mentioned my complete and utter disdain for roller coasters? Literally or figuratively. To say I HATE anything that will plunge my stomach into my throat or give me a sinking pit, is a major understatement. I have realized, however painfully that being aware, dare I say  anticipating the plunge, does actually help in more ways than one.

I now understand, even with all the preparation we can think to possibly do,  we can't be prepared for everything that might come our way.  My brain just isn't big enough to go in all the different directions life can possibly take me. I could have never, ever guessed Scott would have brain cancer. I would not even dare think it, utter it, or as he would say "put it out there" as a possibility.

Someone once told me, as a way to offer comfort, "it would be really rare and the odds are against him having anything this serious." I was supposed to find hope in that. I have to laugh now, every time I recall that being said to me. Because, well as luck would have it, it is that serious and he is the "one in million." In more ways than one.

By the way, if you're ever inclined to give this type of advice to anyone.... DON'T!

It could be that in most cases, you'd end up being right. But for the one time you are completely wrong, it's like putting salt and vinegar in a very deep wound. These words get replayed in a way that becomes nauseating and you'll only end up seeming detached and completely insensitive. So please, I beg you, spare yourself. Say something alone the lines of, "Is there anything I can do to make your day easier?" Think sensitive and action oriented...if you don't want to actually do something, it's okay. Just don't downplay someones difficult situation in an effort to offer support. It doesn't work.

As bad as it is, and as much as I hate this ride...and make no mistake, I HATE THIS...there have been so many things which have come about because of this diagnosis. Not only for Scott, but for all of us. I am no where near a place where I can say I am grateful for this challenge. But I can say I am grateful for the people, and the opportunities we have come to know because of everything we have, and are still going through. I am grateful for what we have been able to learn and discover about ourselves and others. Some of the changes which have occurred, are actually things I have wished for, in one way or another.

I could have never imagined brain cancer might be the answer to some of my prayers...though I'm not entirely sure of this just yet. But it's hard to deny when even Scott says, "Without this happening to me,  I would have continued the way I was, and never even become aware that I needed to think in a different way, or see the bigger picture of what I am really supposed to be and do in my life."

I am most grateful for the peace which comes from knowing we can do anything required of us, to get through tough times. Not because we were prepared for them all, but because we know how to prepare for the worst, hope for the best, and take action. I didn't fully understand until now, just how important it is to be mentally and physically ready to take chances and jump on opportunities when the moment is right. My hunter has taught me well. 

Some of our relationships have blossomed during this past year. Others have ended or been set to the side. But even for these,  I am grateful. Now, I am 100% sure who my go to people are and who they are not. I know who I can count on and who I can't. Letting go of the idea of certain people, can be a difficult thing. Realizing how some will never change, or be what we expect, has actually been quite liberating for me. I can finally move on from wondering if I will ever be good enough to have certain people fully present in my life. I have been able to see once and for all, that it isn't me or anything I am doing wrong. 

My hunter has changed. He is more aware of how precious and short life really is. He is aware of how important it is to be a servant to others and do as much good as you possibly can for everyone around, whether they deserve it or not. He has become much more open and in touch with his feelings and he is  unafraid to show it.

Scott is still very interested in hunting, but he's now hunting for ways to have deeper relationships with people and understand them much in the same way he once sought to understand his prey. This is a huge thing to anyone who knows him well.

Scott has always been a wonderful man, but this new side to him is really something. I will forever be grateful for this past year we've been able to spend deepening our bond with one another and healing old wounds. We've been able to grow closer than we ever would have otherwise. I don't wish getting cancer on anyone for any reason. But if there ever was a silver lining, this is surely it.

I have discovered more about my husband through serving him and caring for him. I assumed this level of caring for my spouse wouldn't happen until old age. And even then, I thought maybe it would be different because of Scott's independent nature. Scott has always insisted on taking care of himself.

In 2005, Scott broke his foot and was in a cast. He couldn't work until the cast was off. We were just about to have our youngest daughter and had purchased a house. I was 2 weeks from delivery and he would not let me lift a thing. Scott moved our entire house mostly himself. He refused to let me help or ask for help. This is who he has always been. He took a lot of personal pride in being self sufficient in everything.

Flash forward a decade.

Discovering a malignant brain tumor has changed the meaning of independence for both of us. We both have to be much more patient, forgiving, kind, and understanding of what the other needs. He has to let me help him. Before, he would have been ornery and harsh about needing any help. Now he smiles and says "I love you" at least a dozen times a day. He lets me make suggestions and actually accepts my help graciously. Who doesn't appreciate and admire that?

Scott helps me too. His help is more emotional, but exactly what I have needed. He has this voice, some have likened it to the "voice of God." It is strong and soothing, can be jovial and stern...almost all at the same time. I'm grateful he is able to use it and communicate his feelings to me now. The sincerity he conveys is much more healing than just about anything else he could do for me. There was a chance he could have lost his ability to speak, so thankful he didn't.

We have always had a special relationship. We have been put to the test more than expected, and I would argue,  more than our fair share. We've been able to endure all that has come our way so far. We know what others we can rely on,  it's no longer a question and we won't set ourselves up for disappointment now or in the future.

Being assured of who we can count on, has given us confidence to reach out and we aren't afraid to ask for help when needed. Since we've been through ups and downs so many times before, we know some what to expect when hard times come and don't completely fall apart at the seems. This cancer deal is just a lot bigger of a drop and might take a bit more endurance to get back up on top. We've done hard things before and we will no doubt conquer this beast too.

I've discovered it doesn't help to dwell on the negative aspects of our situation. Do I want people to understand this is all still extremely hard? Yes. Am I going to give a rap sheet of all the bad days and things that completely suck about my husband having brain cancer? Nope.

If you live it, you get it. And if you don't live it, me detailing all the worst parts will not in anyway help you to live it. You might think you understand, but unless you have the same unfortunate luck we do, to be members of this club, there is no way for you to truly understand because you do not have to actually do what we have to do.

Can you have empathy? Only if  you've lived this or something similar. You might have sympathy. But sympathizing with us is not the same as knowing first hand the heart ache of not knowing what will come of the person you love most in this world. Let me say one more time, we don't need or want people to feel sorry for us. What we do need is your friendship, your kindness, and your understanding of our imperfections. Especially when you expect us to do or be something we don't have the energy or time to do or be.

To those who have done more than stand by...cried with us, sent messages of hope in return, encouraged me to keep writing and sharing our story...to all who have prayed for Scott and for our entire family...and those who came, even when I said not to...we are so grateful for all the ways big and small you have held us up, kept us going, showed us love, and pushed us to not give up. You all have given us the courage to stay strong and be willing to stand up and do something different than feel just sorry for ourselves.

There have been many days, it would have been easier to wallow in my own pain and sorrow. To stay in bed...to stop trying to push on. I could have said many times before now, this is just too hard and I can't do all that's being required of me alone and give up. And so could Scott. But we've had a few things (and people) to help in those times when it has seemed the darkest.

This is my, nowhere near fool proof, formula for getting through.

Love is real. It doesn't matter if you are the one with love in your heart or if you can only recognize the bigger picture and see there is a universe full of love just waiting to be tapped into. Love's there even when things are not the best. It never stops. In fact, love can continue to grow in the hardest and darkest of times. I always have the hope that this experience is for our own good and the good of others. Even if we can't always see what good it is in the moment. It has brought about a deeper love with more appreciation than I could have ever dreamed. And I have a pretty huge imagination.

Faith is also real. It doesn't matter what you believe or how you live. If there is something bigger than you, a force beyond what you can do alone, you can have faith. Faith gives us the courage to keep on trying, even when trying anymore seems pointless. Faith is knowing something bigger than you is guiding the bus, even when you're the one driving. Faith will get you where you need to go as long as you can hold on for the ride.

Service to others has helped me stop dwelling on the negative and feel sorry for myself, my husband and my own family, and get out there and do something to make help a difference for someone else. I have focused on helping others find hope, and worked hard to make myself a person others can rely on to be there in their own time of need. I always have others needs to focus on and this has helped ease my own suffering in many ways. Mostly, because I don't have the time or energy to really put into an all out pity party. My motto is, "If a party's not big, why bother?"

You might be thinking isn't this making things harder and more complicated? I assure you, it is quite the opposite. Serving others has this quite humbling and empowering effect on not only me but everyone around me. Being able to serve others while going through your own hard time, is literally one of the greatest joys one can ever know.

This type of personal giving brings about a different kind of bond with people that can't truly be done in any other authentic way. Showing someone that "You're not alone" by taking action with and for them, in the midst of your own hard time, is one of the world's most healing and motivating factors for creating and sustaining positivity. It's one thing to say it. But quite another to actually do it.

Hope is being prepared for the worst but expecting the best. We have practiced over and over again. We have been hurt, disappointed, smacked down, and heart broken. We have also been overjoyed, content and excited. Hope gives us the patience to weather a storm, because we have experienced hard times before and we know they don't last.

Good times will come again. And again. And again. When a new challenge comes we are stronger and better able to shelter ourselves this time around because we have done much of this in bits and pieces long before now. We have scouted the hard terrain and recognize the signs. We know how to get what we're after, because we've been successful in past hunts. 

This next year, living with this cancer beast will be interesting to say the least. This isn't something we ever wanted to deal with or have. We know we'll have good days and bad days. We know we will need understanding, patience and kindness. We will certainly need to give all this and more to others in return. We are ready, willing, and able to give it our best shot.

The biggest thing this last year has taught me, while we can't always know exactly how to prepare for everything, we can endure anything that comes our way if we want to. We have to make up our minds to survive the best we can. This doesn't mean we will live through it all. It just means we will live the best we can, let the chips fall where they do, and not have any other expectations. This next year, we plan on living with the way things truly are, and not regret what isn't the way it's supposed to have been. We aren't going to waste precious time wishing things were different.

Hunting for hope is the best thing we could have ever done to be prepared for all the difficulties we have faced so far. We will keep on this path, because having hope along with love, faith, and serving others, has has proven to work extremely well. For all we know, this is exactly where and how we are supposed to be, cancer and all.

Whoa! That was a lot for one year. Maybe we can slow down a bit for the next one....

"It Is What It Is"

"It is what it is." Seriously, what does this mean? We all hear it. We see this saying everywhere. I say it on a pretty regular basis myself. As I try and put this into the context of my life and what is going on right now, it makes me feel and sound seriously delayed. Like DUH!

Here's what I mean.

"I think this is a most likely a mid-grade glioma." If I repeat said catch phrase, "Well, it is what it is." We still don't know what the heck IT is! You can look it up. It's potentially "brain cancer" although we've been told several times they don't use that term to describe what they are looking at on the MRI. It's a lesion. A brain lesion. A tumor. A glioma. What it is, is....A big, old, fat, stinking pain in the neck, or rather, head! It's a "cause for serious concern because it isn't holding tight. It's growing. It looks as though it's increased in size in the last 5 months. We will most likely need to react and remove what we can, biopsy the tissue to determine the grade of malignancy and treat the rest with radiation and chemo."

This was our latest neurology appointment. We made the 200 mile round trip drive to the neurosurgeon and again left with no definite answers, only more questions. There is no way to know if this is a benign tumor, or not, without surgery. The doctor presented Scott's case to the "tumor board" on Tuesday morning and called us with their recommendations. We will wait for another MRI  and one more appointment on the 5th of January to determine when or "if" surgery will be scheduled.

My emotions are mixed and it's hard to understand exactly where we are in this process from day to day, still. Scott says he is fine. And maybe he is.  I don't want to speak for him. I can only imagine how difficult this all is for him, because it's devastating to me.  He assures me he isn't going to die. "It's all going to be fine. This is just a hiccup and we'll get back to it soon as we can." He's awesome with telling me what I want to hear and helping me try to avoid "worrying too much."

On our way home, he literally turned and said to me, "I guess it is what it is."

"What the hell does that even mean?" I shouted with tears in my eyes.
He threw his hands in the air and confirmed, "I don't know!"
"Why do we even say that?" I sobbed.
 "I have no idea." He whispered.

There is nothing else to say when someone is right. So we rode in silence for long time. He reached over and held my hand and all I could think was, "It is what it is and I can't change this no matter how much I want to."

Giving up control, is not easy for a control freak like me. I want everything in my world,  at the very least, to have the appearance of being under control and well cared for. This is where I find comfort. Pretending all is well, even when I know it isn't. I do know how ironic and superficial this is. It is what it is.

There are many more hills to climb, more tears to shed, more anger to express, and the cycle of grief to live and re-live. I am no where near acceptance. I don't want this in my life, and more importantly I don't want this, AT ALL for Scott. Who in their right mind would choose this?  I am obviously not in control. No matter how sad, sorry, angry, frustrated, afraid, grief stricken, and hurt I am...it will not change the fact that there is a tumor of some sort, causing seizures and headaches, growing inside the man I love. And I can't do anything about it.

So I sit and contemplate how best to show my love and undying support. I take in as much positive psychology as I can. I practice courage. I practice being kind to myself and kind to my family. I practice patience. Notice I say "practice." That is the hardest part of all. Patience...has been an extremely hard lesson for me all my life. But I have come to understand the serenity of the things out my control and knowing that what I can't change, I must live with in one way or another. It's completely up to me to decide how to live with all of this.

I'm not good at pretending. So I don't usually do it. When I do try, I don't usually succeed. I'm a, wear my emotions on my sleeve, kind of gal. If you see me with a smile, it's because I genuinely have something to smile about. My heart is a bit more heavy today than it's been in awhile but I still find reasons to smile. Even if I have to pretend I'm not dying inside. I am not sure what IT is, exactly that will bring me comfort. I'm not sure what IT is that I need because what I want, I can't have.

It's impossible to know what to do because there isn't really anything to do.... but wait for the doctor to say what he thinks is the best course of action and then to see what Scott wants to do. I know he will do what he thinks is best. I really wish we could just do nothing and keep on going like everything is as fine as it appears. I'm completely okay, in this moment, to pretend and think I can get away with it.

A stupid brain tumor. That is what it is. I know I can't really pretend it's anything else. I've tried. I don't have any hard and fast answers for why, how to stop it, or change anything about it at this point.  Yes, there is a treatment. There is a glimmer of hope that we can beat this for good. So for now, what it is, is....we are holding on for the ride and doing our best to keep hunting for the kind of hope that will keep us from drowning in uncertainty.

The Ebb and Flow of Grief is the Essance of Hope

To write a blog and share with the world, or the one or two of you who are reading this, is quite an interesting thing for me. It started as a way to keep family and friends updated on Scott's condition so I wouldn't have to text the same thing 100 times or answer email and phone calls to give information about what is going on in the middle of handling a bazzillion other things. And let's face it. I'm emotional. It gets old to hear, "How are you doing?" When the real answer is far more complicated than most people want to hear in the moment.

As the months have passed and my  husband's "condition" has neither changed or worsened, people have gone on about their lives, becoming less and less interested in the day to day of the Cooley's. It's not that interesting, I know..we live it. So even though my initial need has changed, I still find myself with a need to write. Not because there is anything compelling or spectacular, but rather the contrary. It's all just really regular. I suppose if I'm being really honest, and you already know I am... I just want someone somewhere to know that life, where ever you live it or what you have going for you or don't,  is hard for everyone. Brain tumors or not.

No matter the circumstances we face, there seems to be a big scheme to see what we can learn, how we need to learn it and what we are going to do with what we have in front of us. I do know there is a purpose. The clear message that's been given to me through this,  has opened my eyes and changed my perspective about how I'm choosing to face all of life's challenges from here on out.

We seem to go through all the emotions of life, in whatever capacity we do, to be faced with ourselves and to struggle with ourselves, in an effort to create something from nothing. And sometimes, the only purpose for our grief or pain is literally to help someone else learn something. We are, (okay maybe this is just me)  complete narcissists because we often think there must be something in it for us. Why else would this be happening? Why else indeed.

I don't know about you. but I create all kinds of happy places and good intentions for myself on a regular basis. Mostly, to give myself a break from whatever hard thing is staring me in the face at the moment. There is so much pressure to be a certain way, have a certain lifestyle, eat the right diet, exercise the right amount, pin the most popular posts, or create the most shared, like, pinned, tweeted, instagramed statuses and what have you. I'm not there by any measure of the world's current standards.

But the minute I begin pulling out the invite list to my pitty party, I realize it's a pretty short list. And I don't want pitty anyway. Remember those "How are you?" statements complete with frowny faces, make me simply crazy. So pitty, please...

I know no matter what happens, that in the end I'm not stuck here in grief or pain. I am not forced to live a life of unhappy endings. I can chose to dip my toe back in  and go as gradually as I need to  and go with the full force of life, or I can sit back and wait for it come for me. Because now matter which way I chose, it will come. The ebb and flow of grief, or any human emotion is that way for a reason. Once it comes back to us, or we get back to it, we can take a bit more, go a bit farther, get a bit stronger and last a bit longer each and every time.

That seems so much more merciful than to be forced to  soak in all the required learning all at once. Anyone who's ever been  student of anything, knows that isn't how true learning occurs. Line upon line. Precept upon precept. This is a true universal concept, no matter what your personal or spiritual beliefs are. The universe is set up in such a magnificent way, to keep bringing things around, in it's own time and when it is right for us to learn, so we have infinite chances to  discover, over and over again. So we can take in the relevant bits we need in that moment and apply them in a logical way.

It's the only explanation that makes sense for all the seemingly senseless things we humans have endure on a regular basis. What I've discovered is the ebb  and flow is the very essence of what breeds hope. Without this coming and going, there would only be absolutes. No hope. No faith. No real growth. Only believing in what we see, and never really understanding ourselves or each other on a deeper level. There would be no benefit of the doubt, no wait and see, no real discoveries.

Will things be hard? You betcha. Will life always be what we want or how we want it? Nope, not even close for most of us. Life really does seem so unfair if you look only at events and circumstances. When we can see the bigger picture,  often only through adversity,  is when we are open to understanding a master plan at work that involves us having many more chances to grow stronger, help others, be better, do better, and LIVE a full life. No matter how long we've got.

It's Offically Hunting Season

As our 8th month begins living with a brain tumor and deciphering what exactly is involved with that, I am reminded of several things.

First of all, February was brutal. Excruciating actually. As I stood there, screaming over my husband while he was having a Grand-Mal seizure, I kept thinking, "What if this is it? What if I never see him again?" I know I've said it before. But it was a big what if for me. In the 3 days we spent in the hospital, 2 of those days, the Scott I knew was not totally present. He did not recognize me. He did not recognize his own children. He knew he was in the hospital and did not want to be there. He knew he had to get out before someone told him he was never leaving. It was awful, gut-wrenching in fact. And then, just like that....he suddenly woke up. With the help of one of his best friends and reminders of the thing he loves to do most in this world, he was back.

Hunting... 

They talked and talked about hunting trips, and the things they have seen and done. They discussed stuff that seemed unimportant and irrelevant to my life as I knew it. And yet, it was this very stuff that literally seemed to be bringing him back to his own consciousness. Maybe it was me just me or his wishful thinking, but I thought I could literally smell gunpowder in the air. The smiles, the laughter, and the genuine love radiating in that room that night, was phenomenal. Scott was somehow able to breathe into his own soul the very parts of life that give his own so much meaning. It was quite literally a miracle to me. But how could I have been so oblivious to the importance of hunting, in my husband's life? How could I not know it was the very thing he actually lives for? I had said it, in jest, but didn't actually know it was true until that very moment.

Hunting has been  a source of a lot of contention in our home for many years. Not because I am against it, but because I simply did not get exactly what this really means to him. I saw hunting as a very expensive and time consuming distraction and a means to get away from the daily grind, to be a kid again and hide out in the woods and be naughty, without judgement or responsibility. I really viewed it as just a mancation with a reason to go out and kill something.

I didn't get it.  Maybe because I'm not a man and I'm just not wired the same. I don't feel the need to stalk and kill something. I don't enjoy blood and guts. I'm perfectly fine with the evolution of the grocery store and all the conveniences of modern society. I like sleeping inside where it's temperature controlled, in a nice, soft, fluffy, comfy bed up off the ground. I like bathrooms that don't smell and are enclosed for my privacy. I like getting my food already prepared to cook and eat. Call me crazy or spoiled. I'm okay with it.  I am probably the reason for all the problems of the modern world. I love the mall. I like shopping. I like the city, I'll have all of it please, with a side of lazy.

I can't help it. I am allergic to anything primitive. I did not camp or fish, or garden, or farm, or any of those things as a kid. I didn't learn to love or respect hunting it as a child and as an adult, I have been forced in a sense, to tolerate it. I have many reasons for being adverse to this whole "getting back to nature" thing. Not because these are not good things, but because I didn't recognize the significance and didn't have a reason to until now. It only took one night in the hospital with my husband and his friend, to literally erase all the ill will I had towards hunting and give me reason to be okay with getting back to basics.

Now, I want to fully comprehend what hunting is really all about. I need to understand why this was the thing that brought my husband back to us. As I was watching Scott and his brother Larry, pack up the truck to leave yesterday, it really hit me hard.  I stood there, my eyes welling up with tears I could not control, thinking...this almost didn't happen. How miserable would he really be and how much worse of a situation would we have here, if he could never do this again? To loose a career is nothing in comparison to the thought of never being able to hunt again. "Just kill me" is his response to that.

I was overcome with gratitude that Scott was able to be packing his truck up and actually going on his annual hunting trip. My heart was overflowing that his brother would fly in just to go along and not to hunt himself. I could not hold back my emotions, although I tried really, really hard. Scott looked back at me once the truck was full and asked if I was okay. I said, "Oh yeah. My allergies are really bad today for some reason and my eyes won't stop watering this morning."

Larry gave me a look that said, "I'm onto you." But left it unsaid, which I'm grateful for. I didn't want my emotional state to take away from the excitement of what was happening. The anticipation seemed exhilarating to Scott and I literally saw him climbing from cloud to cloud, happily landing on about 6 or 7 as they pulled out of the driveway, knowing full well he would reach cloud 9 in full camo, wandering the woods, waiting to take his shot.

I could spend hours blogging about the trials of being a hunting widow. But for the life of me, I never thought I would actually find a reason to love this time of year and be grateful that Scott can be out hunting. He gets to do what he loves to do and that truly makes me happy for him. He never complains that I shop too much. He never says to me that I spend too much time looking at shoes online. He goes along with me when I drag him to "just look" although I know how much he dislikes it.

My husband tries to just let me be who I am and do whatever I want, whether that's shopping or building my business. He goes out of his way to do things for me to make my life easier. He doesn't intentionally make me feel like I have to ask for his approval or permission to do anything. I am so grateful for that. I need to be more like him in that way and the least I can do is support him in hunting. I do many other things for him too...but wholeheartedly giving a thumbs up to hunting was a big one for me. I finally can, just let him be and do what he loves... because in my mind, the chance is now. Life is too short  not to do the things you love which gives you purpose. Hunting does not take away any of Scott's feelings or love for me. I wish I had understood this a lot sooner and without a brain tumor. But hey, some of us have to learn the hard way.

I titled this blog "Hunting for Hope" because Scott loves hunting and I've been hunting for years and didn't recognize it. I didn't know how many things it teaches us about life. Hunting gives purpose. Hunting forces preparedness and patience and many other things I take for granted on a daily basis. My husband and I had been hunting for different things, and then this tragic and life changing news gave us an opportunity to hunt together.  Now days, we have far more similarities than we have differences. Things are not perfect, but we maintain the hope we will get through this together.

We're both forever scared by events that brought us here. We have a reason to cry, a reason to be sad, a reason to have others feel sorry for us. And yet, we have many more reasons to rejoice and celebrate. We do have cause to tell people, "Don't feel sorry." We hunt for hope daily and find it regularly.

Here's to hoping we can all find things to renew our sense of purpose, our reasons for living, or even just one more moment filled with the kind of joy that sends our souls searching for that feeling over and over again. I sincerely hope we can continue to find positive ways to wake up and come back to being conscious to the world as it "is" with a greater acceptance of who we really are and what we truly need.

I am genuinely happy to say my hunter is out hunting this week. I hope his efforts are rewarded in many meaningful ways. Even if we don't get a freezer full of meat....I will have a heart full of gratitude for the opportunity we both have had to understand more about what makes us happy and what it means to be fulfilled. I know we will continue to have sorrow and hard times. We will continue to fall and make mistakes. We might deal with illness for a long time to come. We might miss some great opportunities. We might risk it all and come away with less than we thought we should have.

But no matter what, we will come away from each experience more knowledgeable and with more understanding than we had before... and I think that just might be the entire point.

Happy Hunting!