Halfway point

My cousin  has been trying to convince me that walking/running is a good thing.  I'm not entirely sure I'm sold, but I have liked seeing the progress I've been able to make over the last few months, progressing from entirely walking, to partly running, and maybe some day in the far distant future, running an entire 5K.  I have an app on my phone (Nike +GPS) that tells me how fast I "run" and gives me some other statistics as I go.  If I set it for a certain distance, say 5K, it will give me periodic updates including telling me when I'm at the halfway point.  I like hearing that "half way point" in a mildly cheery, mostly optomistic, not judging you for your speed voice.  It usually means that the hardest part of run (actually getting started) is behind me. I'm warmed up and it's a good time to push myself a bit get a better over all time or faster mile, or whatever.

So, Dad is officially at his "halfway point" with chemo and radiation.  3 weeks in, 3 weeks to go.  14 days of radiation down, 14 to go.  3 rounds of chemo complete, 3 rounds to go.  3 boxes of Snapple Sorbet bars down, 10 more to go (come on, those things are good!). 

It also feels a bit like we're getting warmed up for the push to come.  We're figuring out what this drug does or doesn't do, we've learned that Frostys work and oyster stew doesn't, we know that everything works better when Dad is hydrated.  We know that crushed pills taste horrible and "hiding' it in pudding only goes so far.   We've been through two "mini" surgeries. One to place the port for chemo, and one to place the jejunostomy tube (hereafter called the j-tube) for feedings.  The port was a relatively simple procedure and Dad came home the same day. The j-tube was a bit more extensive as they put him under, went in laproscopically, and attached the j-tube to his jejunum.  He had the procedure Friday afternoon, and was in the hospital in Everett until today (Sunday).  Both procedures involved waiting rooms and anesthesia and hospital cafeteria coffee, and hyperawareness of every code called in the hospital. Both procedures involved a lot of "what if's" and "maybes".  Both procedures came with so much evidence of God's hand at work in Dad's life and in ours.

We have a strong hope that having learned what we have in the first half will make the second half go well.  The j-tube will allow Dad to get nutrients that he needs, keeping him hydrated and strong.  We also have hope that as radiation proceeds the tumor will shrink, and he'll be able to swallow more. The first half of this race has been full of encouragement in your words, prayers, gifts, phone calls, and letters.  Not only those directly to Dad but also the many words of encouragement and prayers for/to Mom, to me, and to Andy and Nathan as well.

We are pretty sure that the next half is going to be tough, in some of the same ways, and probably in new ways too.  We also know that the big hurdle of the surgery is still a ways out as there will be at least 4 weeks of recovery between the last radiation and the surgery to remove the esophagus. 

But we've heard the voice saying "half-way point" for this run, and today that voice is a comfort.