Myself in You

My Sweet Baby Girl,
I'm sorry that you were so scared last night. I wish I could make you believe that I will not let anything bad happen to you. If I could only make you see how fiercely I love you and the places inside of me that are so ferociously protective of you, then maybe you could understand that I am in control of these situations you are so afraid of. Why do you always ask what I would do if you got hurt or what I would do if someone tried to take you or would I cry if you died? The uncertainty and vulnerability you feel in my presence breaks my heart and makes me feel frustrated that I cannot communicate my deepest desire to keep you safe from all harm. I know it is hard to understand when you have seen things happen on my watch that you can only comprehend as bad. You have lost your innocence in regard to pain and death.

In futility, I tried to reason with you that just because we were downstairs and you couldn't see us, did not mean that we would let something bad happen to you. You lack the ability to trust the words, "I will not let anything bad happen to you."

That kind of reminds me of when I told you that God will protect us and only lets things happen to us that are for our own good, and you asked, "How can I believe in that if I can't see him?" I told you that that was what faith was: believing in someone or something that you can't see. But your words still haunt me.

They haunt me because I can hear myself in you. I know that somewhere in the corners of my soul I question God and his ability to protect me and keep me safe because I have seen some things happen on his watch that I cannot completely understand.

I can only imagine his pain and frustration as he watches me struggle with whether I am secure in his love. Deep inside of me, in the dark of the night, when I'm all alone, there are questions that I try to ignore and push away. Am I really going to be okay? Have I done enough to earn your love and approval? What is going to happen to me if I die? What if I've gotten it all wrong and I'm in for a big shocker?

I know all the theological answers to these questions, but there is still this place outside of my intellect that, if I'm honest with myself, does exist.

It is in these moments that I experience God. He does not always remove the problem, but he does put his arm around me and help me struggle through the pain, confusion, and fear. In my weakness, he is made strong, and his grace is sufficient for me.

Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.

The Question

I went to my endocronologist today. Am I spelling that right? Because my spell check keeps highlighting it.

Oh well. Who cares.

May I just begin by saying that people with cancer don't necessarily know all there is to know about their particular form of cancer?

People with cancer don't necessarily know all there is to know about their particular form of cancer. There is so much information being thrown at you all at once, and you become very overwhelmed and have a hard time processing everything. Sometimes, you cannot ask certain questions because your brain just won't go there.

I'm a little confused, but I think I may have learned a lot more about my cancer today.

1.) Because it is in my lymph nodes, it has most likely spread to other areas, as well.

2.) It is highly likely that I will have to have another surgery and a second radioactive iodine treatment after the first one. This is because they will do a full body scan after the first iodine treatment to see where the iodine goes. If it just goes to my neck, all is well; that is where it is supposed to go. If it goes anywhere else, such as the other side of my neck, lungs, bones, etc, they will have to surgically remove that tissue and do another round of radioactive iodine.

3.) If that does not take care of the cancer, I will have to have chemotherapy. That is highly unlikely though. So much so that chemo for thyroid cancer is still an experimental treatment. I would have to go to the Mayo clinic in Rochester if that became necessary.

4.) I finally asked a question that I have not wanted to ask until now.

"Am I going to die?"

The doctor paused for a second and then said, "It is highly unlikely, but yes, there is a chance you could die. Probably one in thirty people die from thyroid cancer. The younger you are, the better the prognosis."

When your daughter has died from something that affects one in a thousand, one in thirty sounds kind of high-risk. Statistics say that you won't be a statistic more than once, though. Good thing for statistics, huh?

They will start my radioactive iodine the week of Labor Day. That is, if my iodine levels are low enough. I have to go on a special low iodine diet starting now. This means I cannot eat fish, iodized salt, chocolate, dairy products, and a host of other things. Well, I guess I'll lose weight out of this whole ordeal after all. Whoo hoo!!

I will also have to go off my thyroid medicine for several days before the radioactive iodine is injected. There are a few things we are trying to figure out regarding what our insurance will and won't cover, and that will determine the exact approach they will take. If my insurance doesn't cover a certain procedure, I will have to go off my medicine for three weeks. If it does cover the procedure, it will only be a few days. I put my vote in for a few days, but we will see if the insurance company takes that into consideration.

He told me not to change any plans or put anything on hold in regard to the distant future. He doesn't foresee that there will be any huge problems. "Huge problems" is a euphamism for death.

Good thing he said that because our adoption case worker did our home study today. Everything went well. She said we can start looking at children's profiles online, and our official file will go online for all the social workers to access by August 10th. This is the official matching process, so once there is a match, we proceed from there. After 2 years, it seems almost too good to be true. I'm not even sure it's really happening yet.

I feel like this is such a sketchy post, but I must be off to school now, so I'll keep you posted in more detail as we go.

I must say, if you've never had cancer, it's a whole new world.

Broken Cisterns

"My people have committed two sins:
They have forsaken me,
the spring of living water,
and have dug their own cisterns,
broken cisterns that cannot hold water."
Jeremiah 2:13

I heard an amazing sermon Sunday dealing with this passage. I will put a link to it once it is posted on the church website. It was extremely moving and convicting.

It is important to note that "My people" would not be referring to those outside the church but those within. American churches are full of people who are no longer finding their fulfillment in the spring of living water, but are filling their lives full of stuff that will never satisfy in their search for meaning and significance.

We are trading springs for cisterns, and they are broken cisterns at that.

Bullet Points Are My Friends

My apologies for being so negligent with my blog lately. We have had a lot going on in the past week, but none of it has been really worthy of a blog post. Maybe I will just write a few bullet points of some of the happenings around here.

We are getting ready for our home visit on Tuesday from our adoption case worker. This basically means that we are trying to clear out our garage so we can walk to the breaker box. Yes, it is that bad. It also means we are trying to chip away at Mt. Laundry by folding and putting away boatloads of clothes. No, we are not organized people. Does this come as a shock to anyone?

Allika has entered a new stage. It is called the gymnastics stage. Look it up. It's in your psychology books. It consists of bumps, thuds, flops, bangs, jolts, and cries of pain whilst the little one does somersault after somersault, cartwheel after cartwheel, and wall climb after wall climb non-stop in the course of a day. It is very disconcerting and makes for a difficult time when trying to study for tests or get any homework done. The other day, she asked me if she could please do a somersault off the couch. In exasperation, I told her no. She was quite distressed, claiming that her head was feeling so empty because it had not done a somersault for the last, oh, five minutes. If you think I'm exaggerating, I am not, and it is seriously driving me insane.

There are some huge transitions taking place within my husband's job, and it affects us all in some major ways, not the least of which being that he is stretched very thin(ly). That is his story to tell though if he ever wants to start a blog someday, so I will just leave it at saying that it has an impact on the whole family.

Some issues have evolved over time with my daughter, due to the death of my other daughter, and we have had to work extensively on helping her through some things. That is also her story that she can tell someday on her own blog if she so chooses. In the meantime, it takes a lot of energy and patience to work through the assignments from her counselor. We have achieved a lot of victories lately, for which I am very thankful, but sometimes it still breaks my heart to see her struggle the way she does.

I have started back to work, which I covered insipidly in my last blog post, so you can read all about it there.

We are helping a friend move which means that all his stuff has ended up in our garage that we just cleaned out for our home visit. There is a little path to the breaker box, though, so we should pass "inspection."

We have also had company and babysat for several friends in the last week which we thoroughly enjoy. Allika loves having little friends over to play with, and it distracts her from the gymnastics for a little while at least.

All in all, it's been a good week, just really busy. I hope to keep up a little better with my blog next week. No promises though.

Back to Normal?

Today was my first day back to work since the surgery.

It's funny because I thought I would be going back to work the week following my surgery since that is what I did after my last surgery.

I told the scheduler that I couldn't do my post op the Friday following surgery because I had to work. She said, "Oh honey, you won't be working the week after surgery."

I said, "Really? I went to work the week after my last surgery."

"Yeah. And what kind of surgery was that?"

"An excisional biopsy."

"Okay. Well, this is going to be a little more extensive. We're talking about a complete thyroidectomy and right neck dissection."

The nurse then called me and wondered if my job involved lifting at all. When I told her I was a nanny for two-year-old twins, she laughed and informed me that I would not be going back to work for a while.

Today I found out why they said these things. I am exhausted. I did not realize how much I would need the help of my 6-year-old daughter today, but I became aware very soon of how invaluable she was to me. Wow. Two-year-olds.

I work again tomorrow and Friday, so I hope I gain strength as I go instead of losing it.

It's good to be back in the swing of things, though.

Still the One

Allika was gone on Father's Day, and since Van isn't my daddy, we decided to wait to observe it. Well, one thing has led to another over the last few weeks, and we haven't gotten a chance to celebrate until this Sunday.

I was trying to do something really special for Van because he has been such a wonderful husband and father, especially over the last few months. He's really picked up the slack for me, and I haven't always been the most easiest person to live with.

I thought a hot air balloon ride over the St. Croix Valley would be perfect. We have both really wanted to do that, and I had decided that when I got through all of this cancer stuff, I was going to do the things I had always thought would be fun. There's only one little problem with that valiant resolution. It's called $800 dollars.

So, I set my sights a little lower and reserved a spot on a dinner cruise down the St. Croix River. I think we may have even kept it a secret which is very difficult for Allika to do.

Here are some pictures.


The Boat


Allika and Her Daddy


The Jazz Band that serenaded us throughout our ride


Van and Allika waiting for dinner. Wish I had taken pictures of the spread. It was so delicious.


The Polowchaks


The Scenery

After the boat ride, we had another little surprise up our sleeves. It wasn't anything big, but it's something we've never done before and have always wanted to try. We went to a drive-in movie. What a phenomenon! I never realized how much fun those were. Of course, we didn't know you were supposed to bring your grill, lawn chairs, footballs, frisbees, soccer balls, etc. It was one big old huge tailgating party. We got there early since the movie wasn't starting until dark, so we had plenty of time to walk around. Allika climbed several trees and did some exploring while I snapped a few photos.


Such a neat place


Our Motorcycle Babe


Two hours before the movie...Filling up fast


Climbing trees while we waited


Waiting for Ice Age 3

To top the evening off, we gave Van a gift certificate to Half-Price Books (his favorite book store) and a recycled Father's Day card which I had thrown at him on Father's Day. This time, however, I had actually signed it and handed it to him nicely. I suppose I shall have to explain.

Like I said, back in June we had decided not to do anything for Father's Day, but I didn't want to let the day go by without even acknowledging Van, so I bought him one of those musical cards that played "Still the One." Well, I spent more money on more stuff, too, and when I got home, there was a discussion about the spending of the money. For the record, he was right and I was wrong. Of course, that is not usually the case, but this time, it was.

Anyway, the disagreement ended with me throwing the card at him and following that with the receipt so he could return it and get the money back.(I can be very vicious when I throw paper, people. Okay?)

So, he opens the card to hear this: "You're still the one I run to, the one that I belong to, you're still the one I want for life. You're still the one that I love, the only one I dream of, you're still the one I kiss good night."

He kept the card without a signature and threw away the receipt.

And that, my friends, is why I gave him the same card again, only this time I signed it and wrote something special.

And thus ended our celebration of Father's Day. I love you, Van. You're still the one.

A Franciscan Benediction

A Franciscan Benediction

May God bless you with discomfort,
at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships,
so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger,
at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
so that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

My God bless you with tears,
to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war,
so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and turn their
pain to joy.

And may God bless you with enough foolishness,
to believe that you can make a difference in this world,
so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.

Amen.

Scar Face

Tuesday night I went to class (If I miss more than two classes, I will fail the class, and I want to save those two classes for my radiation). I felt so awkward walking into a room full of people for the first time. I had debated covering it up, but the doctor had told me not to. Plus, I didn't have any bandages big enough to cover it without looking like a patch-work quilt. I was worried that people would think I had purposely left it uncovered just to gross people out and get a lot of attention.

I got to school just as another class-mate was arriving. I hurried ahead of her so she wouldn't catch up to me and see it. Good thing I accomplished that since I still had to walk into the classroom. I just felt so weird about the moment that everyone would see me for the first time since surgery.

Well, I made it through class, not without very self-conscious feelings though. Especially when the girl sitting across from me was trying to eat her salad. I kept wanting to apologize and cover up my scar. Sometimes, I have to stop myself from saying, "I'm so sorry about my scar. I know it's really gross. I would cover it up, but the doctor doesn't want me to."

In a small way (because a scar on my neck isn't even close to what some people have had to experience), it all makes me very aware of what it must feel like to be a person who doesn't quite fit in. Whether that person brings it upon themselves by assuming that others view them in a negative way or whether others really do view them in a negative way, it is extremely hard to socialize with people when you feel like a freak.

The next time you think less of a person because they are acting strange or introverted, try to remember that maybe it is because they feel very insecure and self-conscious and are battling a lot of voices inside their heads that are telling them they are inferior or gross or annoying and they should just leave the room.

Maybe, instead of judging them so you can make it easier to dismiss them, you could go over and talk with them and try to make them feel more comfortable. They might act a little reserved when you first approach them because they think they want to be left alone so they don't bother anyone. What they really want, though, is for someone to help them snap out of their fears and make them realize they are just like everyone else. One of my classmates did that for me when I sat at a table by myself. She said, "No, you can't sit over there all by yourself. You need to move over here by us." Reluctantly, I did, and they began to talk to me about my surgery and told me how great my scar looked and how glad they were that I was there.

Yes, it is very childish of me to go to those places in my mind, but the reality is that I have gone there. We all probably do. We all need each other to reach out and help us through those weak moments when we feel like our flaws define us or our weaknesses have gotten the best of us or our mistakes have devalued us.

So, if there is someone in your life who might need a little encouragement, I hope you will just take a moment to let them know they are important to you.

And if you are one of those people who is feeling kind of icky, I hope you will realize that you are so much more than the imperfections and failures in your life. On the flip-side of that, those scars and wounds you've received have played either a small or large part in who you have become. They do not define you, but they are tools that helped to shape you. Since you are such a special and unique person with so much to offer the world, you can be thankful for and embrace those tools, however painful they may have been at the time.

Having said all that, here are some of the pictures of my scars. I didn't expect it to be so hard to post these. I kept going through the different photos looking for the best ones, as if I would all-of-a-sudden click on the next picture and it would be pretty. Well, they are what they are, folks, and they are a part of me, albeit a very small one because I am so much more than the scar on my neck.




This is before the stitches were taken out.



Side view after the stitches were removed. There is even more swelling than before they removed the stitches.



Front view after the stitches were removed

A Good Day Was Had By All

Today has been a really exciting day.

We have been in the process of trying to adopt off and on for about two years now. Everything has been put on hold for the last couple of months while we have been going through the whole cancer ordeal. Today, however, we met with our case worker and had our personal interviews for the home study. After answering all sorts of questions about how I handle stress and anger and who's my daddy, she informed us that we are about 3 weeks away from the matching process. The next steps will be a home visit over the next couple weeks and then, foster care licensing which we have to have in order to place a child in our home before the finalization of adoption.

The matching process could be a short one or a long one, but either way, I am so excited to be this close to the end. Oh yeah! You can believe that!

In other news today, I had my stitches taken out. Van says it looks like I am almost smiling from ear to ear. When you see the scar, you will understand the humor in that statement.

I am contemplating the crassness of posting pictures of my scar. I think I have decided that I am going to do it because it is a part of me now, and I would kind of like to document the healing and make all sorts of annoying analogies in the process.

So you may not want to look at the pictures tomorrow if you are a little squeemish (not to be confused with squeemicels).

Help

I need to ask some advice from all of you.

Tomorrow I go see my ENT doctor one last time before he turns me over to an endocronologist to take over the rest of my treatments and to manage my thyroid medicine.

My ENT has been truly amazing. He has always gone the extra mile in everything and has been so kind and humble in the process. I appreciate what he has done for me so much...more than words can say. I am actually going to miss him, even though he represents a somewhat difficult time in my life.

Is it appropriate to give him a little token of my appreciation tomorrow when I see him for the last time? If so, what should it be? I thought about something home-baked, but these days people don't always trust home-made food from someone they don't completely know. I know I would be a little suspicious of a plate of cookies from someone with a big wound on their neck. I'd be thinking, "I really hope they washed their hands."

I don't want to buy him cookies though since that's a little impersonal, and I'm sure he can go buy his own if he wanted some.

So, if you have any suggestions, or if you think it's a little much, just let me know. Keep in mind, we're on somewhat of a limited budget, so no plasma screen t.v.s or anything like that.

Thanks for any advice you can give.

Gifts

I have received several little gifts today that have meant so much to me, and I wanted to share them with you.

I was reading on facebook that some of my friends were a little less than thrilled with the rain they had been receiving, and it made me wish that I could have some rain here. I thought it would be so perfect, since I am kind of stuck here with a book and a blanket anyway, to be able to look out the window and watch the rain fall and listen to it tap against the house. There is just something about it that makes me feel cuddly and snuggly and warm and cozy. I didn't think I would get any because it was just a wishful thought that passed through my mind as I read the grumblings on facebook. A little while later though, I was sitting in my worn-out spot on the couch, when much to my delight the first rain drops began to hit my window. I snuggled up to enjoy the show and felt so blessed to have a tiny wish, that had barely reached my conscious mind, come true.

Yesterday, when I went to the doctor to have my drain removed, I left my wallet in his office. We didn't figure it out until we had reached the pharmacy to pick up my thyroid medicine, and I didn't have my insurance card. It also contained my student I.D., driver's license, debit card, a paycheck, and other valuable things. We rushed home to call the clinic and were directed to security. After looking around for it and even getting the doctor in on the search (I told you he is a great guy), they were sorry to tell me that it hadn't been turned in and it was nowhere to be found. I was just sure that it had been stolen, and I was going to have to go through the process of getting all my cards and things replaced. The worst thing about it is Van just had his wallet stolen at the doctor's office a few months ago. Well, my second, nice little gift this morning was when we found out that the nurse had found it and locked it in her drawer before she went home last night. What a huge relief!

I guess the third gift happened last night when I got to shower for the first time since Friday. Unless you have experienced four days without a shower and having drainage and other such pleasant things all in your hair, you cannot appreciate how much that experience meant to me. It improved my slowly deteriorating mood from the wallet ordeal by 100%.

And the last and most precious gift is pictured below. This just did something to my heart that I can't describe. She worked on it for a long time all by herself.





Oh, I can't forget one final gift, but it's kind of an ongoing one: each of you and all the nice things you say and do for me. Thank you so much.

Make Me Thy Fuel

Make Me Thy Fuel By Amy Carmichael

From prayer that asks that I may be
Sheltered from wind that beat on Thee,
From fearing when I should aspire,
From faltering when I should climb higher,
From silken self, O Captain, free
The soldier who would follow Thee.

From subtle love of softening things,
From easy choices, weakenings
(Not thus are spirits fortified,
Not this way went the Crucified),
From all that dims Thy Calvary,
O Lamb of God, deliver me.

Give me the love that leads the way,
The faith that nothing can dismay,
The hope no disappointments tire,
The passion that will burn like fire.
Let me not sink to be a clod:
Make me Thy fuel, Flame of God.

Surgery Update

Sorry I haven't posted an update sooner. Things have been a little...well, shall we say hectic? I am home now. I talked them into letting me go a day early because I didn't want to sit in the hospital for another day, getting poked and prodded every time I happened to doze off, just so they could take my drain out tomorrow. Instead, I will go into the clinic and have them remove my drain and get to rest in peace and quiet at home. Ahhh. So nice.

The surgery took 7.5 hours. They were only expecting it to take 4, but the surgeon was really careful to make sure he got every thing out without cutting any nerves and other important body parts. There was one cluster of lymph nodes that was three inches into the muscle, so it took him a while to get all of those out. I felt so bad for him. Can you imagine almost a full days work, standing on your feet, digging around in someone's neck, trying not to cause any permanent damage, and this, after already having performed several operations before mine? Needless to say, we are very impressed with and thankful for our doctor. I wish all of you could meet him. He's just the nicest, sweetest, most humble guy.

As you can imagine, it took me a lot longer to recover than it had for the last surgery. I did have some trouble with the anesthesia, but we will spare you those details for now. You can thank me later for that. I had excellent help and care though. Everyone was just wonderful. My husband stayed with me the first night, in which he got no sleep. He had enough of that and went home to sleep last night. I missed him so much. He has been right by my side through all of this. I don't know if I'll ever be able to explain how much he helped me. It wasn't so much physically as it was emotionally. He talked me through a lot and fielded many, many questions which come in all shapes and sizes when I get going with my anxiety. He is such a patient man.

The incision is humongous, so we will have to contend with that. I thought maybe I would get to lose a few pounds out of the whole deal, but I don't think the thyroid and lymph nodes weigh enough to make any big impact on my overall size. You'd of thought I could have at least dropped a few dress sizes out of the deal.

The next step is to start me on Synthroid, and then take me off Synthroid so they can do the radioactive iodine. I will have to be quarantined for a few days while I glow. We shall see how long when I go see the endocronologist in a few weeks.

Thanks to all of you for coming along on this journey with me. I am learning so much more about myself and God through this whole process. I feel honored that he is still working on me.

Bugs and Surgery

I have had a great day today with my daughter. It is fun watching her live life with so much gusto. She went to see "Bruce the Bug Guy" this morning and got to hold cockroaches and spiders. It made me swell with pride to see her holding a tarantula like a true lady. I simply must post pictures of this lovely experience.





Much to her disappointment, she was pulled away from the bugs and taken to her swimming class. She has come such a long way from the time she crawled along the edge of the pool, wailing at the top of her lungs because she didn't want to get in the water. Today she advanced to level 3! What an accomplishment! We are very proud of her.

Tomorrow's the big day. Complete thyroidectomy and right neck dissection. It will be a four hour surgery. I thought I wouldn't have any apprehension after the last surgery and knowing the good prognosis, but I do. I'm bothered that I have yet to learn not to be so anxious about things. Sometimes, I feel like a fickle little kid who goes from complete trust to terrified fear over the slightest upset to my agenda. It just makes me kind of nervous to have someone partially decapitating me and cutting things out of my neck for four hours while I am totally out of commission. It's a control thing again. I have to keep letting go. Please continue to pray for peace in my heart. I am convinced that I was as calm as I was last time because of the prayers surrounding me. God is good, faithful, and sovereign. I will rest in knowing that.

Thyroidectomy: Coming Soon!

Bethumped With Words, food, nature walk, music, movies, ice cream, swimming, cook-out, fireworks, thrift store, Twins game, Mall of America, bickering, stress, nerves, tension, kids, cuteness, dancing, home-made parades, sickness, tears, goodbyes. That is my weekend in a nutshell. And what a weekend it was. It's funny after it's all over and you look back on it, you realize that you were in the midst of greatness. It's also funny after it's all over and you look back on it, how much you're glad that it's all over. I love my family and all, but I'm just sayin'. And for the record, we all agree on this. You can only have so many great personalities and strong opinions in the same place for so long. I will say that I learned a lot about my egotistical, proud self. Something to work on.

In the way of medical updates, my thyroidectomy is Friday. They will re-open my previous incision and lengthen it several inches. That just sounds lovely. Fortunately, I'm not a vain person because I will have a nice scar on my neck. I didn't think much of it until I thought I heard several girls sitting behind me in the Twins stadium talking about how disgusting my incision was (maybe I was being super paranoid). It really doesn't bother me, except that I don't want to cause anybody to toss their cookies at the sight of my neck. Just not the kind of effect I like to have on people. Oh well, such is life. It will be what it will be. After some of the other possibilities, I think I can stand grossing people out for the rest of my life. I like that sentence.

Anyway, along with the thyroid, they are removing the rest of the lymph nodes with cancer in them. The doctor had just removed one for the biopsy and left the rest for the next surgery because he thought he could get to them better from that angle, what with the jugular vain and all. I was pleased with this decision to say the least. The risks involved are cutting the vocal chord nerves and damaging or removing the parathyroids which would affect my calcium levels or something like that. To be honest, these risks don't bother me in the least bit. In fact, my husband is a little excited that I might lose my vocal chords. Seriously though, when you hear about people going into surgery with a 20% chance of survival, you kind of lose your ability to get worked up over your vocal chords and calcium.

You want to know what I'm really not looking forward to? A blood clot pressing against my throat again. I'll have to say, that was not the least bit enjoyable. Anyway, I'm trying to keep all things in perspective here and am actually succeeding quite well, thanks to your prayers and an awesome God.

Invasion: Coming Soon!

I probably won't be writing anything substantial (if you want to call it that) until Monday after all my family has left. The next few days will be filled with lots of fun and sweet memories together. So check back in a few days if you would like to catch a glimpse of what it's like when six extensions of the Pratt family converge as one family on a house.

Yesterday, my grandmother died. I don't really feel like writing any platitudes about that right now, except to say I am so glad I got to spend a little bit of time with her two weeks ago.

Today, I get my stitches taken out and consult with my doctor about my next surgery. Probably won't be anything significant, but I will let you know if it is.