Brain Dump

Before I was blessed enough to become a stay at home mom, I was a fourth grade teacher. I would often tell my students to open their journal and 'brain dump.' The reasoning was that by writing down whatever came to their mind they could become inspired to write about something, or clear their mind for another great idea to enter. As I process all of this information, I feel the need to brain dump, to get my thoughts out on paper (or rather the computer screen). I need to clear some space.

I've mentioned before that I am amazed at what science has to offer nowadays. While reading through a packet Dr. D. gave us I came across many interesting things, but the one that stood out about the surgery was they there will be a surgical robot used. Prior to using this robot they had to fully cut through the jaw, a straight line down the front center. Now, they use the robot to maneuver inside a patient's mouth. Of course, Patrick already knew about this, but it was news to me.

The other night my oldest sister texted me and said when all is said and done, we are going to have a 'look at me, I'm cancer free' party. I was excited about the idea then I thought about it for a few minutes. That party is three years away.

We're going to have to share the news with our oldest daughter sooner or later. She understands more than most two-year-olds, so she'll understand that daddy is 'sick.' I think the most difficult part for her will be not being able to see him for several days.

Amongst all the craziness of appointments, diagnosis, and emotions, I completely was unaware that I was not sharing all the messages of support we are receiving with Patrick. I've got messages to relay.

We've been reading other cancer patient blogs and websites. Some are sad and some are inspiring. Seeing pictures of the aftermath is eye opening to say the least. The battle wounds are prominent and remind me that this is going to be a painful journey for Patrick.

This blog has been therapeutic for me, and I like having our journey documented. I know that I will not be able to remember dates or particular information if I'm asked in two weeks, or next year for that matter.

So many of you have told me that you'd love to help out. Many thanks for the offers and support. While I will call on several of you for help in the next few weeks, there is one thing besides praying that all of you can do for me. Take notice of your body and see a doctor if you find something odd. The reason we are in the best of the worst is because Patrick did just that.

I'm learning new things about our body and cancer everyday. Tongue cancer is rare in that it can grow without pain. Another fact... More than 10,000 Americans are diagnosed with tongue cancer every year.

Emotional exhaustion is, well, exhausting. A variety of emotions flood through each day. It's been 24 hours since I last cried. I'm not crying anymore because of the unknown or out of fear of how this journey might have ended, but rather because as I learn more about the procedure and recovery (heaven forbid radiation or chemotherapy are included) I am sad that Patrick will be suffering. Patrick, on the other hand, is in a much different place. Maybe he'll share at a later date.

We're expecting a call from Dr. D.'s office within the next day or two to schedule the surgery date. Until then, more waiting. A journey full of waiting.