August 27, 2025 marks an important milestone, the completion of my second week of recovery. Looking back, I’m grateful for how far I’ve come, even though the path has had more twists than expected.

Dad and I arrived at the hospital for pre-surgical operations on August 12th, and everything unfolded smoothly (minus that unexpected and horrible isotope injection pain). I was blessed with a restful night’s sleep before the big day. After checking in at 6:30am, I was under anesthesia by 8:30am.

After six hours under the knife, I awoke to find myself trapped in the past, facing mirror images that were not my own, and driven by an unknown force to change history for the better with my trusty sidekick, Al. 

Just kidding! I hope my fellow 80s TV enthusiasts caught that Quantum Leap reference. During recovery, the kids and I started watching MacGyver from the beginning. For 80s television, it truly delivers the perfect blend of action, adventure, science, and engineering. When I made this observation to the kids, Norah immediately added “romance” to the list, while Beau chimed in with, “It’s also just the right amount of guns.” These kids never fail to brighten my days.

Speaking of bright spots, this blog recently reached a meaningful milestone: 3,300 active readers. Your presence on this challenging journey means more than words can express. Thank you for walking alongside me.

When I woke from surgery, I received news we’d hoped to avoid. The surgical team discovered active cancer in my lymph nodes, necessitating a full axillary dissection on my right side. This meant I emerged with two drains on the right, one on the left, and a tight elastic binder to minimize swelling, all in addition to my existing ostomy. While the amount of medical equipment attached to me isn’t ideal, each piece serves a purpose in my healing.

After spending one night in the hospital, I was discharged the following day for the two-hour journey back to Waco, a ride that tested my pain tolerance but brought me closer to home.

Friday brought a new challenge when the left drain stopped functioning, causing fluid accumulation in my chest. After sending photos to my surgeon Saturday evening, she advised heading to the UT Southwestern ER, where she’d meet us. Dad drove me back to Dallas Sunday morning during what proved to be the most intense pain of my recovery so far.

The medical team readmitted me and placed a new drain Monday afternoon. While they suggested another overnight stay, my determination to return to Norah and Beau won out, and they agreed to discharge me that evening.

The axillary dissection unfortunately affected sensory nerves in my right armpit, causing severe stabbing pain. My surgeon explained this tends to be more challenging for men due to muscle mass and the inability to completely avoid all nerves during the procedure.

This past Friday delivered my pathology report. The cancer had progressed further than anticipated, appearing in four lymph nodes. However, here’s the encouraging news: my surgeon successfully removed everything, the tumor and 16 lymph nodes with 3mm margins (considered wide margins). This thoroughness gives us the best foundation for the next phase of treatment.

Currently, I’m receiving Pergeta and Herceptin treatments every three weeks. Once I’ve healed sufficiently, I’ll add chemotherapy and radiation to my protocol. We’re also strategically planning to schedule my ostomy reversal before chemotherapy begins, as chemo can impact healing capacity.

My immediate focus is healing well enough to move forward with treatment. I’m actively working with my medical team to find an opening for my abdominal surgeon to reverse my ostomy before beginning the next phase of chemo and radiation.

I would deeply appreciate your prayers for:

• An opening in my abdominal surgeon’s schedule for the ostomy reversal
• Continued healing and pain management
• Strength for the treatment journey ahead
• Continued moments of joy with Norah and Beau

While this path has more obstacles than we anticipated, each challenge overcome is a step toward recovery. With your support, excellent medical care, and the laughter my children bring, I’m facing forward with determination and hope.

Thank you for being part of this journey. God is stronger than any diagnosis.