We’re in one heck of a fight, yeah you got that right.
With the ring of a bell, headed into what some call our personal Hell.
It’s routine now, chemo, sleep, repeat.
How many rounds is this?
Good question, we count birthdays and chocolate bars around here.
This year it started in November, as far as I can remember.
A break from chemo, but hardly a break from the fight.
Our regular cocktails weren’t giving a good enough buzz
Shhh, not that kind of cocktail-no need to call the fuzz.
December rolled around,
We did our best to deck the halls.
Surgery with the doc, coming up on number two.
Jimmy made himself known, said ‘doc sir, you get this right.’
I guess a liver’s pretty important; at least that’s what they said.
According to Jimmy, not as important as his little Lizzie, ‘she is my wife’.
Huntsman became our hang-out, and despite all the casseroles- we ordered plenty of take-out.
Lizzie was brave, obeying the doc’s orders.
In a room without her family, but not completely alone.
No anesthesia today, although there was hardly a hooray.
She held her breath, swallowed her fear, and let the chemo beads roam.
The doc’s hands were steady, everything was ready.
A surgery more precise than any before, one bead placed, two beads, and more.
Her family waited two sets of heavy doors away, heavenly angels held her hands.
“Be brave,” they whispered, “stay strong. God understands.”
One successful surgery later, we’re not sure who was more relieved-Jimmy or the doc.
Cancer and vertigo ruled our party, making most driving licenses invalid.
Chauffer Lindsey and the Subie to the rescue.
Who thought of buying the clutch anyway, those U of U hills are madness.
Back home to Kamas, casseroles and chicken noodle soup waiting.
Two cute little kiddos, grandma’s home soon to be invading.
Cheers to a Christmas, and a New Year too.
The doc said no more chemo, rest your tired head and renew.
January and February rolled right along.
Like the rest of the world, our days got busy.
Two degrees to pursue, one to finish.
Two little boys to raise, and crime to diminish.
A classroom of kids to teach, for everyone has to learn math.
And boy did the cancer grow back fast.
March came with a bang, but Lizzie was still under the weather.
The toughest trooper we know, but could this be her time to go?
A trip to Huntsman’s acute care clinic, fighting cancer can have its perks.
A cancer scan, emergency day-after chemo, and no more teaching math.
Not the way we wanted it to go, but only God sees our path.
It’s now the end of May and we’ve been plugging away.
Lizzie’s strength is back, her cocktail as strong as ever.
She’s getting closer to being out from under the weather.
As far as we know, everything so far so good.
We appreciate the love, and from me personally, the five-star food.
Your creamy soups sure know how to change a person’s mood.
We’ve got a scan coming up, we’re nervous-duh.
But we’ve got a little something more on our side.
No matter how long we do this, 3 years has been the ride,
We testify God lives and loves us enough to send his son to die.
Cancer’s scary-it’s a bully, it’s a threat.
But it’s also lessons to be learned and people to be met.
It’s forgiveness, and love, and growing up real fast.
It’s looking to the future instead of being so tied to the past.
We don’t have the answers, so there’s no point in the questions.
How ‘bout a hug, a smile, or maybe a joke?
If we talk about cancer anymore, we may have to choke.
God has the answers, this is his game.
Please, we don’t want to be thrown into fame.
We just want to live, to love, and to learn.
For simplicity, normality, and the shadows we yearn.
We’ve been ever blessed, we could never say thank you enough.
You all need to remember, at the end of the day Lizzie is still tough.
We’ll keep our cocktails for now, and we’ll pray for a trial.
Not the kind we have now, but a clinical, please no denial.