Family.

"If heaven is nothing more than this, it's good enough for me." (Thanks, Elder Jensen, for eloquently expressing the thankful song of my heart).

Most of the family arrived Saturday night pulling in the driveway at the same time--amazing since some had driven from Albuquerque and others had flown from New York. Happy reunion and chance to meet a little, tired Benjamin. The poor little guy awoke to 5-6 faces ogling over him 6" from his face--what a good sport he is (even when terrified).

I tried my best to preserve and even hold back a little everyone's enthusiasm and joy until we could move from the driveway to LeeR's bedroom--he just loves being part of this kind of family rapture. So the celebration continued around his bed with lots of hugs, kisses, tears of joy, and love oozing from every cell of every body there. Magnificent.

LeeR soon tired and asked everyone to come back later to party. I helped him settle in while everyone retreated to the family room. When I joined them the scene was oh, so different. Everyone hugging, crying, supporting, holding, and sharing the grief and the reality of what is happening now to their beloved dad and to this family--the grim reality of life being forever changed. No one felt prepared for this moment, but how could we ever be? I'm so grateful we are able to hold each other up, literally as well as emotionally.

Sunday was magical. Family, faith, friends, food, and did I mention family? A wonderful day. We were tender and amazed once again by the outpouring of help and love. And the sweet closing prayer in sacrament meeting, "and, Heavenly Father, please bless our LeeR." Yes, Heavenly Father, please do.

Monday night we were able to have our special family night with a very basic reenacting of the plan of salvation. This was so important to both LeeR and me and we were so grateful it went so well and that our children were so supportive and understanding of our need to explain our belief that families really are forever and we will see Grandpa and each other again. Hearing the family all sing "I Am a Child of God," "Mother, Tell Me the Story," and "Families Can Be Together Forever" was a memory I won't forget. And, dressed in white, greeting each person "back home" one by one, Grandpa and I were overcome with love for these souls who bless our lives. Then LeeR sang what I call his theme song, "Oh, Savior, May My Life Reflect Thy Will." Oh. My. Goodness. It was incredible. ("Oh, Savior, may my life reflect thy will. May I overcome through faith in thee. May thy light be a constant guiding star to lead me, ever lead me, ever lead me to thee.") What a tender moment to witness the pleadings of one about to report home. Inspiring beyond words.

Today is picture day. Everyone is in good spirits and the clothing is laid out. No freak outs (or as we call them in Lambertese "FO's") evident. Manis and pedis are taking place. Clothing pressed. Hair curled (or not). Quiet morning. The carrot of Red Iguana is dangling in front of our faces for after a successful photo session. This will work.

Tomorrow is birthday party day and also an important meeting with our oncologist. We may have to draw straws to see which 4-5 of the 10 gets to go with us, since that's all the exam room will hold with LeeR and I and the doctor in there, too. We're thinking of a face time or conference call or something. Everyone wants to hear what the doc has to say.  Hopefully that will work to everyone's satisfaction.

 Thanks to the generosity of friends and family, the logistics of feeding and housing this brood has gone swimmingly. From salads, sandwiches, cold cuts, car washes, haircuts, beds, baskets, cookies, cakes, chips, and salads to love, hugs, thumbs-ups, smiles, and prayers, we have been buoyed up and, once again, wrapped in love. Thank you, thank you, thank you one and all.

People start leaving Thursday and by Saturday night everyone will be returned to their homes. Time passes so quickly. So does life.  Every minute is precious and we are savoring every single moment. Honestly, if heaven is nothing more than this, it really is good enough for me.

Life...

Not much time to post today and not much to report. We had a wonderful rest last night after a visit from old friends from Pennsylvania.  It was so good to reminisce about the times we shared there when our children where growing up together. Good people, they are. It's strange how we go on in life and think things will never change; or, at least, never change drastically. Surprise!

We're looking forward to beautiful although probably at times painful moments with our posterity this weekend. We can't wait to see them all and bask in their hugs and love. Pure joy. Our lives are so blessed by these amazing 28 souls.

PAH-TAY! Bring it on, family. See you tomorrow. Let the games begin.

A Quiet Day

Just a quick note to let you know that we had a quiet night last night and a quiet day today. Thank you, Mr. Morphine.

I was able to work a full day today, thanks to our darling daughters who handled everything at home and let the sleeping dad lie.

Only two more days until our kids come rolling in--we can hardly wait to see them and have everyone meet Baby Maya and Baby Benjamin who were both born last year. Family pictures will be Tuesday and everyone will be there to smile pretty. A birthday celebration is planned for all the July/August birthdays, including Grandpa who will turn 71 on August 1. Meals are assigned and planned, our amazing visiting teacher and her Relief Society cohorts are bringing side dishes, salads, cookies, cold cuts, etc. for lunches and between-meal snacks. Once again, everyone is stepping up to our doorstep and bringing love. And once again, we feel much more blessed than we deserve.
 

"Gird up your loins, fresh courage take. Our God will never us forsake..."

The title of this post is a line from a much-beloved LDS hymn sung by the pioneers as they walked across the plains and settled this great valley. LeeR's great grandfather was one of those courageous pioneers who, at age four and having lost all of his family except his 11-year-old sister along the way, made that historic trek. Gabriel Marion Utley--one of our heroes. Remembering him seems appropriate on this 24th of July as we honor, commemorate, and celebrate the lives of those who, filled with courage, determination, and faith in every footstep, made that trek.

The legacy of Gabriel has been passed down through his posterity--his son Samuel, Samuel's daughter Libbie, and Libbie's sons and daughter, including LeeR. Today has been a day to remember the lessons learned from those who have gone before and led us by their remarkable example--"gird up your loins, fresh courage take. Our God will never us forsake. And soon we'll have this tale to tell: all is well, all is well."

The blood transfusion yesterday was uneventful and went very well. Unfortunately, last night brought more concerns as LeeR's breathing was more difficult than usual and he was experiencing pains in his upper left chest area. This morning as the symptoms became more pronounced, we went to the ER in Provo. After lots of tests and a CT scan we found out that LeeR's heart is working well and there are no apparent problems there. Unfortunately, the same thing can't be said of his lungs.

"Lungs: extensive bilateral pulmonary nodules have increased in both size and number from previous study [one month ago]...several show rather dense calcification, likely ossification with an osteosarcoma metastases...the largest nodule measures 2.3 cm, compared to 1.8 cm previously...There are also several pleural-based masses consistent with metastatic disease, which have also increased in size and number."

Not good news. So there is now fluid in his lungs, the size of the original nodules has increased, and there are more nodules. The fluid could be removed but the doctor wants to wait on that since LeeR needs to be on blood thinners right now and he would have to stop those if they did put a drain in. We will talk to him more about that next Wednesday when we go to our next appointment.

We were going to have a Pioneer Day barbecue at our house this afternoon, but the girls moved it to Provo and so we went and enjoyed some time with them and their families. Before we left the hospital I asked LeeR if he still wanted to go and he said he didn't want to miss any fun or family, so we girded up our loins, went to the party, enjoyed our family, and basked in their love. What a blessing.

As you can imagine, our emotions have been and continue to be all over the place. I won't even try to explain the gamut they run. But through it all, we comment often on how much our Heavenly Father loves us and how sure we are that He is there, that He surrounds us with peace and courage, and that he will never forsake us. Never. All is well, all is well.

The good, the bad, and the ugly

The visit with the oncologist went well today. The main points of the visit were:

• THE GOOD: our oncologist was extremely pleased with LeeR's experience through chemo. He said LeeR will just start feeling better and better now and that it's too late in the process for him to have to worry about any more nausea or vomiting. His white blood cells and his platelets are normal, so that is remarkable. As far as the extreme weakness and exhaustion, although a little puzzling, the doc thinks the normal extreme fatigue may have been exacerbated by the other factors going on at that time--recent transfusions, recovery from surgery, losing blood, blood thinners, etc. Whether or not that will happen again remains to be seen; but, overall, the doctor was amazed at the lack of other side effects and has tentatively scheduled another chemo series on August 6 and 7.
• THE BAD: LeeR's red blood cells have dropped from 26.5 last Wednesday to 21 today (normal for living at this altitude is around 45). So tomorrow he will be getting 3 units of blood at UVRMC in Provo. The doctor was so kind in suggesting we do it there so that I can work while LeeR is receiving the blood. As he said, "Dealing with cancer is a very big project and consumes all your time and energy. In the meantime you need to live life. Anything we can do to make that easier is worth whatever it takes." So sweet. LeeR won't have to spend the night--it will take about seven hours and then we can come home.
• THE UGLY: no cause yet on the blood loss. The doctor ran more tests today (last week's tests showed everything to be normal) and there will be more tests run tomorrow. Unfortunately, it is looking more and more like an "abnormality" in the bone marrow, causing his body to not be able to replace the red blood cells. We really aren't ready to go there yet--everything else needs to be ruled out first. Of course, it lingers in our minds.

We go back to see the doctor on July 31 to test his blood again and schedule chemo. Around August 27 another CT scan will be done to see how the chemo is affecting those nodules in his lungs. That will be a big day.

On we go...keep walking, keep walking, keep walking...

Oh, what a beautiful morning!

Quick update: we had a relatively quiet night last night--no falls (three over the weekend). And this morning LeeR was able to use the walker by himself to get to the bathroom, take a shower, and return to bed. He's exhausted and sleeping soundly but it was a major accomplishment and we are celebrating the victory over his "appendages," as he puts it.

We see the oncologist today at 1:40.  I don't expect any new news but it will be interesting to know if LeeR's extreme weakness is what the oncologist termed "extreme exhaustion." We never imagined that's what he meant.

"Oh, what a beautiful morning! Oh, what a beautiful day! I've got a beautiful feeling, everything's going [our] way!"

It does take a village...

It's been a weekend of learning, growing, accepting, problem solving, asking, thanking, and gratefulness.

Since Thursday evening LeeR has been too weak to walk, sit up, talk, eat, drink, or even open his eyes. As he mumbled with the slightest of smiles yesterday, "Well, this is a revolting development." He keeps us smiling while we are all trying not to cry.

Thankfully, LeeR is not in pain and so far the nausea has been controllable. Sleep comes easily but he wakes every hour or two for help getting to the bathroom. We've gained so much expertise and are just so efficient now with the process that we have strained our arms from patting ourselves on the back. But it did take a village to get to our present state of calm, peace, satisfaction, and even occasional smiles from LeeR:

• After two nights of trying every device available (wheelchair, 2-wheeled walker, 4-wheeled walker, full crutches, and half-crutches) to transfer from the bed, through the narrow openings between furniture, and into the bathroom, it dawned on me that we somehow needed to change places with our very heavy bed and the very, very heavy mirrored double dresser. So this morning I called my wonderful sons-in-law and asked if they could come help. They were so willing and we worked out a couple of time frames hoping that if I could find other helpers they could come at one of those times. So I called my amazing neighbor who happens to be our high priest group leader and explained my need. He said that at that moment at his house two doors down he was holding a HP leadership meeting, thanks for calling, and "we are on our way." I did ask them to wait 15 minutes so I could prepare a little for the move and help LeeR to get settled somewhere away from the bedroom. Sure enough, five strong and compassionate men showed up and a half-hour later the room was rearranged, doors were removed, furniture was put in other rooms, vacuuming and dusting of baseboards and carpet under the hidden areas was completed (shhh...I promised I wouldn't tell their wives), and the bedroom was magically transformed into a very liveable space for our needs. It was amazing.
• Saturday morning I was able to have a peaceful sister day with my sisters and dear Aunt Bonnie--a friend of my parents from my early childhood who has become one of my dearest friends. It wasn't until one of our kids introduced "Aunt" Bonnie to her new husband and he asked, "now, whose sister is she--your dad's or your mom's?" that they realized she wasn't really an aunt at all. But then again, she always has been and always will be our Aunt Bonnie. It was so nice to enjoy the morning with them and to feel of their concern, support, strength, and love.
• It seems that every time I went in or out of the front door this weekend, there was a treat on the doorstep: soups, bread, cookies, salads, informational pamphlets, etc., etc. One friend brought bags of fruit. Another came with a watermelon and stayed to help change bedding. Yet another brought two very healthy delicious vegetable dishes and homemade chocolate pudding and then let me talk her ear off. And still another dear friend and neighbor brought a beautiful handmade (by her) quilt for us to use, cherish, enjoy and then wrap ourselves in after LeeR's 100th birthday party. With every gift, I cried. It's amazing to me how everyone has been so respectful of LeeR's need for quiet and yet so in tune with our needs. I wish I could be that kind of friend and neighbor.
• Our family and all of the branches of this "big ole' family tree" has been amazing. From near and far they have called, texted, told actuary-appropriate jokes, helped lower the bed a foot, cheered us with grandkids, cleaned up, helped lift and move, and showered us with hugs, concern, empathy, prayers, and love. We couldn't get through this without their support. This I know.

Tonight LeeR feels stronger and looks much better.  He ate ten more bites of food tonight than he has all weekend. His speech is clearer and he even attempted to sing "I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face" to me tonight. Even at his worst he always mumbles thanks for any gesture of help we offer and for every act of service performed. That's my guy.

So tonight I'm overwhelmed with gratefulness for love, service, prayers, hope, progress, friends, family, sunshine, peace, joy, and especially for our own little village. Love and enormous thanks to all you villagers, Karen

Who (or what) came in and stole my smiling sweetheart?

Yesterday I got a sweet email from our exchange student, Midori, who stayed with us during her junior year of high school (1981-1982). The note was so cute (and true) I thought I would share a part of it here:

"I was so shocked to know what happened to Father Lambert... I am sure he and your family are strongly fighting with the problem every day. It`s so hard to me to imagine he is not able to show his smile now because all what I remember about him is "Smile" all the time, and never show the anger and upset in his face, just Smile!"

Today hasn't been a day for a lot of "Smile." Yesterday after his second day of chemo LeeR looked so tired and beat up. He was nauseous all afternoon and white as a ghost. Today seems even worse. The anti-nausea and pain drugs (morphine,  Valium, and Lorazepam) seem to help, but he is just so miserable and sick.  For a guy who rarely takes even a Tylenol for a headache, this is very powerful stuff, causing hallucinations, dizziness, and confusion. Hopefully tomorrow will be better, not worse.

The x-rays and ultrasound from Wednesday afternoon didn't show any bleeding or blood pooling.  However, yesterday afternoon after puzzling awhile and asking a lot of questions, his oncology surgeon wondered aloud if the bleeding could be in his leg from the surgical area and have been caused by the Lovinox shots we were giving him to thin his blood and reduce the chance of him developing more clots. This was the first "maybe" that made sense to us. More blood tests were drawn late yesterday afternoon. No results yet and I'm not sure what they are supposed to show. Anyway, we may have an answer--at least maybe a believable scenario. We'll take it.

LeeR reminded me last night that the kids sometimes described him to their friends as "a walking Valium." He said that now it is literally true. He also joked about "morphine" into a zombie--a "meta-morphasis." So, although his smile isn't as big and convincing as usual, his sense of humor still shines through. That's my guy.

What a sleepy boy...

Today is Day #2 of chemo--the effects of yesterday's treatment are becoming increasingly evident.  LeeR was exhausted when we got home last night but nothing like today. It's nice for me to see him sleeping so well and so long for a change, but it's also a reminder that our lives are forever changed.

The ultrasound and the x-rays yesterday didn't show any blood pooling in LeeR's leg. He still has the incredibly large bruise-like thing on his thigh. We see the surgeon at 1:30 today and hope he has some answers for us. Hopefully we'll be able to start the blood thinners again after we see him.

Thankfully, we have found that having LeeR take the morphine every six hours keeps his pain under control. What a blessing that is--it breaks my heart to see him writhing in pain. So sad.

We're hoping for a quiet, uneventful weekend with few side effects  from this week's treatments. LeeR says he's not going to have any of the side effects of the chemo. That's good to know.

 

AMEN TO THAT--WE ARE SO BLESSED!

Quick update: Mostly good news mixed with just a little not-so-good news

We're in chemo now--yay! (Good news). Just finishing the 5 hour session (good news). Able to have chemo because his hematocrit stayed up to 27.5 (very good news). He has a very large (4"x8") red, hot sport on the outside of his surgery leg (good news because it may show where the blood is coming from and where it is going and not-so-good news because we have to go through more testing and possible surgery to repair).

I'll update more later but we just finished and are heading for an ultrasound and x-ray. The colonoscopy yesterday showed no problems at all, so that, also, is both good and not-so-good news.

It's definitely a mixed bag right now but we are doing great.

A note from LeeR: any time without pain is a good time. (He's been in lots of pain lately and is having to take morphine. Right now he's three hours out from morphine and feeling good).

We both love you all and are so grateful you are in our lives. xoxox!

Beautiful, peaceful weekend. Now on we go.

LeeR did come home late Saturday afternoon--oh, happy day! We celebrated by sitting on the deck watching the deer in "our" field, getting Mexi food from our favorite restaurant Tarahumara, and watching the season 3 finale of Downton Abbey with Kami. A perfect and NORMAL night.

Sunday we had brunch with Kourtney's, Krista's and Kami's families again on the deck and were able to face time with Ben, Caroline, and Baby Benjamin--what a joy! LeeR was able to go to sacrament meeting. Kami and a friend from the ward (Gloria) played a beautiful violin duet accompanied by another friend and very talented pianist Camile. So beautiful and touching. Great talks by missionaries coming and going and a sweet youth speaker talked about girls' camp. Oh, to be young again. Nah, not really. We basked in the love of our ward members and their supportive handshakes, hugs and beautiful expressions of hope, love, and prayer. Unexpectedly our two visiting families stayed for dinner, which ordinarily would have taken us to scrounging in the freezer to feed the troupes, but our sweet Relief Society president MaryAnn, who is herself recovering from knee surgery, "happened" to bring over a beautiful and delicious casserole--enough to feed all 13 of us with about 1/4 cup left over. Yum! Just as we were sitting down Neal (LeeR's oldest brother) and Anne came by with a delicious pan of hot rolls and honey. Double yum!! So good to see and visit with them.

LeeR spent a quiet (if you can call it that) day yesterday preparing for today's colonoscopy. Kori decided to come for a visit and will be here today in time to take him to the procedure and back home again. So I'm taking advantage of that and trying to get some work hours in during my free time today. We are actually hoping that the colonoscopy will reveal a problem so that the blood loss from the past three weeks can be explained and fixed, but it's unlikely that a source will be found. With his having lost that much blood, it is impossible to imagine that he wouldn't have seen signs of blood loss. But they have to rule out an internal bleed anywhere in the GI tract before he can restart the blood thinners, so he's finishing the prep (yuck!) and going through the procedure today. If no bleed is found, we will need to consider the fact that his bone marrow may not be producing red blood cells--our minds aren't yet ready to explore the possibilities and consequences of that. Not today, anyway.

Tomorrow is chemo day, or so we have been told (again). IF nothing is found with the colonoscopy and IF his blood counts are still high from the transfusions, he will begin the chemo around 10:00 tomorrow morning and have another session on Thursday. Here's hoping? Certainly mixed feelings about that.

So many of you have asked what is happening since I didn't post Saturday, Sunday or Monday. There you have it--not a lot, really, except family, friends, and food; music, mayhem, and Miralax; anticipation, angst, and anxiety; and prayers, priesthood, and peace. Guess there really is a lot.