The Carling Boys Go Green

While I was cutting his hair last night, Jacob announced he wanted to go green for St. Patrick's Day. This seemed a reasonable request--at the time--so I agreed. We gave it a test run last night to see how it would look. After seeing the results, Cameron decided he wanted to do the same thing. They both went to school sporting green hair today. I'm hoping they don't get sent home for dress code violations. If that happens, we'll watch Darby O'Gill and the Little People and eat Lucky Charms all day!

Think Pink

The boy/girl ratio in our family is now 5:3--of course girls get two votes, so we officially outnumber the guys! Chloe Rae arrived on Friday at 7:47 p.m. She weighed 7 lbs. 15 oz. and measured 19 inches in length. Everything went really well, mom and dad are enjoying the experience.





I took Cameron and Jacob to see the baby today.



Cameron wasn't too sure he wanted to hold Chloe. He had never held a new baby before--aside from Jacob, but I'm sure he has no memory of that, being less than two years old at the time.





Jacob was very excited to hold the baby. It was his first time, too. Parker and Hayden went skiing today, so they are up at the hospital now--to see the baby, not for any injuries they incurred. The younger boys and I stayed home, I had too many chores to do--that and my abs were pretty sore from skiing hard yesterday. We grandmas are entitled to take it easy occasionally, right?

The Great Escape, sort of...

On Saturday morning when I woke Cameron and Jacob, neither one felt like going skiing, so Parker and Hayden went without us. I decided this would be a good day to follow through on my threats to sever all ties to the evil washing machine from...well, you get the picture, buy a new clothing-friendly version, and start looking for new couches. While the boys were getting their shoes on, I grabbed a tape measure to bring with us. Since I didn't want to wear it clipped to my waist--it didn't match my outfit--I decided to throw it and my purse into a large shoulder bag. Before doing this, though, I took my keys out and set them on a shelf. BIG MISTAKE. The boys came down, I picked up my bag and we left, locking the door on the way out. As soon as I hit the sidewalk I realized what I had just done. We went around to the side door, which was, of course, locked. No matter, we could use the spare key--except that when I looked in the window of the back door I could see the magnet container which holds the spare key hanging on the side door where I put it after the last time I locked us out of the house--I remember thinking, "I'll put it someplace where it will be a visual reminder to return it to where it belongs"--not on the side door, obviously. We had one last door to try--the very back door--the one that I made sure I locked after I discovered it had been left open one day. We were out of doors--in both senses of the word--but not out of options.

Option #1: break the glass in the very back door--an expensive and potentially dangerous choice.
Option #2: wait for Parker and Hayden to get home from skiing/snowboarding--this would have been a very bad choice, since they didn't come home until eight o'clock that night!
Option #3: hire two little boys armed with one headlamp to crawl through a dirty, dark tunnel which may or may not lead to a secret entrance into the house.

As I stood over the opening, I could hear the sound of the boys making their way through the tunnel. For a few minutes, the movement stopped and I could hear a discussion of some kind. After awhile, they started moving again so I walked over to the back door to wait for my intrepid explorers to emerge from the darkness. The light in the cellar flicked on and out came somewhat muddy versions of Jacob and Cameron. I went inside and had them meet me at the side door where they took off their muddy shoes and pants, got washed up, and ready to go shopping. This time, I made sure I had the keys in hand before locking the door--and I put the spare key back where it belongs.

When I asked the boys what they were talking about in the tunnel, Jacob said he saw a skeleton of "a rat"--more likely a mouse--and Cameron wouldn't go any further until Jacob buried it with a shovel. They both asked if they could crawl through the tunnel again, the next time I lock us out--it was so much fun. Hopefully, there won't be a next time.

What's your Kryptonite?

Recently, one of the nation's foremost authorities on motherhood suggested the following: In spite of possessing incredible powers and heroic abilities, every Supermom has her weakness, something that sucks energy faster than a Suburban in need of a tune-up. Question is, what's yours?

I pondered this question as I was helping Cameron make an Albert Einstein sock puppet at ten-thirty last night. Why, you might ask, were we working so late into the night? Well, it seems that the magician who performed at the Cub Scout banquet earlier in the evening not only did some amazing card tricks, he made Cameron's memory of homework disappear. It's never good when, as he's passing by his backpack on the way to bed, your child says, "Uh-oh. I forgot about this." If you hear these words, you can be sure your over-taxed brain cells have just been called up for active duty. Kryptonite Source #1: Absent-minded children. On the bright side, because I resisted the urge to donate all my miscellaneous craft items to Deseret Industries on Monday morning, I didn't have to find a store that sold gray faux fur at eleven o'clock on Thursday night. Does hoarding craft supplies, just in case you might need them sometime in the next twenty years, count as a superpower?



I accept the fact that as long as we live in a civilized society which encourages the wearing of clothing, I will have to do laundry. I can live with this. The issue I have is not with the task, but the piece of machinery I must employ to accomplish said task. I know what you're thinking, "How bad can it be? You have a front load washer that is less than eight years old." True, but my washer has developed a nasty habit: it leaves black marks on the clothes. I feel like I'm playing laundry roulette every time I put a batch of clothes in the washer. The odds are against every item of clothing emerging unscathed. I have had the repairman come several times and he assured me that the problem was caused, not by any malfunction of the unit--like, perhaps a grease-leaking bearing--but by using too much detergent. So I use less detergent, and guess what? Black marks still. Let's examine the evidence. Grease tends to be black, and when it gets on things, it leaves--say it with me--black marks. Detergent is white, and when it gets on things...you know the rest. And so, Kryptonite Source #2: My washing machine--and the repairman. On the bright side, I plan to buy a new one with my tax refund. Know any former Jedis in need of a free washer?



It was brought to my attention recently that I am rearing culturally-deprived children. One of my boys announced that he has never seen Mary Poppins. What kind of red-blooded American mother doesn't feel duty-bound to sit down and view this timeless Disney classic at least once each year with her children? Apparently, mothers like me. I guess I kind of took it for granted that all the boys had seen every Disney movie ever made. To be fair, we don't even own a copy of Mary Poppins--singing-and-dancing movies aren't real popular in a house full of men--which partially excuses my lapse in parental facilitation. Kryptonite Source #3: Reality Checks. On the bright side, I intend to rectify the oversight this weekend. Anybody have a DVD I can borrow? On a semi-related note, Kryptonite Source #4: Arbitrary Societal Pressure. What?! You haven't read the Harry Potter or Twilight series? Have you been living in a cave for the past decade? No, I just prefer not to be a crowd-follower, a condition also known as contrariness or non-conformity--it's actually quite harmless when tempered with good judgment. BTW: I don't own an I-Pod, either. :o)

Heaven is a place on Earth...

...this week its name was Grand Targhee. We had a much better experience skiing yesterday than we did last Saturday. The sky was a clear robin's egg blue most of the day, the temperature was bearable, the wind light. Exactly the kind of day Paul would have loved. Maybe that explains why my eyes kept watering as I rode the lift up the hill. I should invest in a pair of mirrored goggles. In spite of these few minor floods of emotion, we had a great day. Lynn and Gentry came with us. I didn't see much of Hayden, he and Gentry skied together all day. Cameron has officially mastered the art of carving. No more snowplowing for him! Jacob is well on his way to joining the club. Parker opted to stay home--he had a date. We skied from 10:30 a.m. until 4 p.m. with a half hour break for lunch. I've decided the higher the price of a hamburger, the better it smells, especially if it's being cooked on an outdoor grill. I can proudly say we resisted the siren call of charbroiled animal flesh and ate our PB&J sandwiches. And so, the word of the week is fortitude. When we got home I was so tired, I went to bed at 9:30, completely uncharacteristic for me, but it felt great! I might have to make a habit of it once a week. Oh, man--I'm beginning to sound like a grandma, aren't I.

In the words of Tennyson, "Tis better to have skied and froze, than never to have skied at all."

Wait a minute--I guess I'm the one who said it. But I'm pretty sure there have been scientific studies done to confirm it...maybe.



The weather at Targhee wasn't exactly picture perfect, but we did our best to enjoy the day. It snowed off and on, mostly those tiny flakes that sandblast any exposed skin. Cameron, Jacob and I hit the lodge early; we were cold and visibility was poor. We're hoping for better conditions for Brent and Lynn's visit on Monday.

Jacob

Cameron

It's Alive!

The Suburban has been spared an ignominious death, receiving a stay of execution in the last hour. It turned out to be the fuel filter. And in spite of my complaints about the redundancy of the Social Security office, I have to say I was pleasantly surprised by how quickly they processed things, once they got the information they needed. Two days has to be some kind of record.

Today's mail brought the final piece of the puzzle I needed to file our tax return. I had it all complete, with the exception of four or five ridiculously small numbers (dividends.) It was hardly worth waiting for; I don't think it made a bit of difference in the amount of tax we owed, but rules are rules. On to the next bureaucratic hurdle--dealing with life insurance companies.

Your tax dollars at work, or not...

A few weeks ago I called Social Security to begin the process of obtaining benefits for the boys and me. I spent nearly an hour on the phone while the representative entered our information into the computer. This, she assured me, would save time when I went to my appointment at the Social Security office in Idaho Falls, which she kindly scheduled for me. All I would have to do is bring the relevant documents (birth, marriage, and death certificates; social security cards, bank information) to be verified. Great, I thought. I'm all for streamlining whenever possible. Fast forward to this Monday. I arrive at my appointment, armed with everything I need, except for a lengthy novel to read while the Social Security agent takes the documents back to his cubicle--you see where this is headed, don't you--to enter the information into the system, again. I inform him this was done already, when I scheduled the appointment. His explanation: "She must have been new. There's nothing in the system." It's days like this that make me proud to live in a bureaucracy, I mean democracy. By the way, the word of the week: redundant.

Yesterday Dr. Hancock was kind enough to meet with me. I had some theories about the things I witnessed with Paul and the process of dying that I wanted to have confirmed, which he did. He also showed me and Darla--she came with me--the last PET/CT scan Paul had. In spite of his being on chemo, the changes that took place in six weeks were incredible. We did everything we could to fight the cancer, but it was obvious from the scan that it was no longer working. Dr. Hancock e-mailed me copies of all the scans Paul had. He uses them when he lectures around southeast Idaho to promote the benefit of using PET scans as part of a cancer treatment regimen.

On a lighter note, we're all doing well. Tyler and Brandi are excited for their baby to arrive. If she's on time, that will be in two weeks. I don't think I own any Grandma clothes. Isn't there a special uniform or something? The boys are busy with school and homework. Hayden finished the Camping and Environmental Science merit badges at a pow wow sponsored by our stake over the past two weeks. He's pretty happy to be done with them. Cameron is practicing for a play at school. He was originally assigned as part of a rap group, but that didn't suit his personality, so he negotiated with his teacher for a change of roles. Now he's a narrator, a much better fit.

On Saturday night Cameron and I were looking up the meaning and origin of first names and surnames on Ancestry.com. After we finished with our family names we decided to look up surnames from our ward. By the time we were done, we were both laughing hysterically. At church the next day I had to avoid making eye contact with Cameron during sacrament meeting so I could keep a straight face when I saw some of the ward members. Don't bother asking, I refuse to disclose names.

We plan on making good use of President's Day weekend by going skiing at Grand Targhee on Saturday and Monday. Anyone care to join us?

Spaghettification: Is that a real word?

Tonight I took the boys to the planetarium at the university to see a show about black holes. Produced by the Clark Planetarium in Salt Lake City, it had incredible graphics, and appeared to be based on sound scientific data. We were about halfway into the presentation and learning some interesting facts about black hole physics when the narrator threw out the word spaghettification. Okay, maybe it's just me, but it sounds like a totally made up word. He used it in describing what would happen as you approach the event horizon of a black hole. In essence, your body would stretch, getting longer and skinnier, until finally the sub-atomic particles from which you are made would break apart; your particles would mix with the other sub-atomic particles being sucked into the black hole like dust in the wind (hey, isn't that a song?) I haven't consulted the dictionary yet, but I'm pretty sure I won't find an entry for the word. (Feel free to file your tax return or grab a snack while I do some research.) I'm back, I was right. (Incidentally, Spellcheck didn't like it either.) But because it made everyone giggle when he said it, spaghettification is the word of the week. I encourage you to seek every opportunity to use it in your daily conversations. Let me know how it goes.

Earlier in the day, I attended a lecture sponsored by the BYU-I English Academic Society entitled, "Oh, Blast!" A Linguistic Examination of Expletives. It was quite entertaining. It's interesting how language and meanings of words have evolved over time. The quote of the week came from the lecture. Maybe some food for thought the next time you're called upon to speak in church?

I've been tagged...you could be next.

My deceptively innocent-looking utility pirate/fellow Jane Austen junkie/sister-in-law from the RGV tagged me.

6 Random Things/Quirks Tag

1- Post the rules on your blog.
2- List 6 random things about yourself.
3- Tag 6 people at the end of your post.
4- Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
5- Let the tagger know when you have posted your entry.


So here we go, prepare to be amazed/shocked/bored:

1- I have never colored my hair (though the stress of the past year has taken it's toll and I can see the need for chemical intervention in the near future.)

2- As a senior, I took third place in the State FBLA Business Law competition.

3- I recently talked an Idaho State Trooper out of giving Parker a speeding ticket. This was not an act of pure altruism...he's on my insurance.

4- I will be a grandma in less than a month.

5- Apparently, my daredevil abilities on a snowmobile were what attracted Paul to me.

6- If I were a character in Fahrenheit 451, I would be among those who get arrested for hoarding books.

I tag...Deaun, Kareena, Heidi, Ali, Alysha, and Darin (it's been 4 WEEKS since your last post. Es tiempo por Episode Quatro, hermano.)

Free to Good Home...

I'm kind of kidding. Last Friday, the boys and I went skiing again. We were joined by Brent and Cory; Lynn, Preston and Gentry; Cathy, Brian, Brandon and Katelyn; and Rob. We loaded the gear and passengers into the Suburban, Brent's minivan, and Rob's work truck, and headed for Targhee. Cathy and Brian planned on meeting us at the resort. I invited Lynn to drive the Suburban, since the roads were slick.

As we got on the highway, it felt like the engine was starving for fuel, it didn't want to go over 40 miles an hour very badly. We made it to Newdale, which isn't even halfway to Targhee, and decided to call in the cavalry for reinforcements: Rob, Tyler and Parker, who were ahead of us; they turned around and came back. We loaded the skis into the back of the truck. Just as we were figuring out where to fit the people, Grant and Reiker Ricks pulled up, so Hayden rode with them. The rest of us got in the truck and Brent's van. We left the Suburban parked in a farmer's yard.

Hayden came home with the Ricks' at 2:30 p.m. so they could do baptisms for the dead at 4:30 p.m. in the Rexburg Temple. The rest of us skied until closing, drove back to Newdale, picked up the Suburban, and limped home. We (the expert diagnostic committee made up of Tyler, Lynn, Brent and your's truly) think we narrowed the problem down to a fuel filter or maybe a vacuum issue. It kind of felt like Paul was sending a message, "Remember how much you depended on me?" He would have popped the hood and had the problem diagnosed in five minutes, and most likely had it fixed right there in the farmer's field.

So, until I take it to the dealer, the crippled beast sits in the driveway, awaiting its fate: repair (if reasonable) or retirement (it is fourteen years old, after all. Isn't that like a hundred forty in human years?)

Let me take this opportunity to thank everyone who came to the viewing and funeral last week. It was wonderful to see so many family and friends. We have been blessed by the outpouring of love we have felt through this difficult time. I knew I married a wonderful man, but I had no idea the extent to which his life and example impacted the people around him. Thank you for sharing with us.

Spending the day with Paul

Though to some it might seem a strange thing to do at a time of mourning, the boys and I went skiing today. We decided together that if Paul were here, he would have loaded the skis and snowboards and been out the door in a heartbeat, especially on a day like today: sunshine, blue skies, spring-like temperatures. It was absolutely beautiful. I like to think that Paul had some influence in that department. Parker wore his dad's jacket and I wore his hat. We took his picture with us and placed it in a tree overlooking the valley. Each time Parker skied past, he saluted Dad. It really was a healing experience. We talked about Paul and felt him near. I believe it helped the boys understand that you can grieve the loss of a loved one and still continue to live and enjoy life. That's what Paul would want for us. We miss him deeply, but are grateful for the knowledge that this separation is only temporary. See you later, Paul.

In the words of another great Paul: "I have fought a good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith."

Paul passed away in his sleep last night at 11:30. Hayden was at the Scout Klondike Derby winter camp out near Rigby. Tyler and Brandi, Parker, Cameron and Jacob had been here at home with me, watching movies. After the first movie, Tyler and Brandi went home. I kept falling asleep during the second, so I got ready for bed. When I came back downstairs, I felt prompted to tell the boys that Paul would probably be going that night. I had just sat down to tell them, when I heard a sound coming from the other room and went to check on Paul. By the time I got to his side, he was gone. I came back and told the boys, sending them upstairs until I got Paul ready for them to see him. Parker called Tyler, then our friend Grant, who was at the camp out with the Scouts, and he woke Hayden and drove him home. I called Darla, and Bishop Wightman. When they arrived, they called the other family members, as well as hospice and the funeral home. We had about an hour to sit and talk before they came to take Paul's body away. I appreciated the gentle manner in which they handled things.

We all went to bed around 2 AM. Hayden woke Parker up at 8, asking him to take him back to Krupp Scout Hollow so he could participate in the sled races with his scout troop. When he got home, he told us that when they were running the first race, they felt a sudden burst of speed right at the end, allowing them to win that heat. We think it was Paul giving a push from the other side. Hayden was chosen to receive a special award by the leaders for coming back and finishing the events: a handmade wool coat (like what a mountain man would wear.) That meant a lot to him.

Darla went with me this afternoon to make final arrangements for the funeral. I am so grateful that Carol and Angie helped me get most of it planned last week. The only thing left to decide today was the date and time.

There will be a viewing at Flamm Funeral home in Rexburg on Wednesday, January 21 from 5:30 - 7 PM. The funeral will be on Thursday, January 22 at 11 AM, with a viewing from 10 - 10:45 AM, at the Rexburg Stake Center.

I have come to realize how blessed I have been for spending the last twenty-four years with Paul. I feel like those years have been so joyful, in spite of the trials of the last sixteen months, because we had to fit a lifetime of love into half the time. Paul spent more time with our sons in that same period of time than many men do in their entire lives. We have so many happy memories to draw upon in the years to come.

Here are some things I have learned from my husband:

Always keep your sense of humor. Just last week, after Paul had stopped taking fluids, he commented that his mouth was so dry, he could spit sunshine.

Don't complain. It doesn't improve the situation, and makes others feel bad, too.

Treat others with respect. Paul had many friends from all walks of life because this belief was part of his character.

Family is more important than anything else. We never questioned where we fell on his list of priorities.

Putting complete trust in the Lord brings peace. He knows our needs and how best to meet them. This has been the greatest lesson through this trial. Throughout this often painful experience, we have known that all would be well, even though we would be losing our husband and father for a time. This knowledge continues to bring us comfort and hope for the future.

Death is not an end, but a beginning. Paul was excited to move on. Towards the end, when he was still able to communicate, he wondered aloud why it was taking so long to be done.

I'm not finished yet; Paul told me this himself. There's still work left to do before I'm ready to rejoin my sweet husband, so I had better get busy. We all had.

More Tender Mercies

Monday night Paul was really confused and making unusual requests. He kept pulling the sheet from the bed and asking me to tape his legs together with it. When I asked why, he said, "For evidence." It had been a long, tiring day and in my exasperation I said, "I don't know how much more of this I can handle." Well, Paul was listening, and in a rare moment of clarity said, "Why don't you lay down here on the bed and get warm." He moved over as best he could, put his arm around me and true to character, as ever, he comforted me.

I feel like I need to explain a little about my birthday gift and this one. When I said it was "my Paul," that wasn't quite accurate. In reality, it was more like my Paul, celestialized. Kind of gives me something to look forward to...

He sleeps most of the time now. He doesn't respond to much of anything or anyone. He appears to be getting closer to leaving. I am so grateful for the decision we made to bring him home, it was the right one; and for this opportunity to serve the wonderful man who is my best friend and husband.

Many of you have asked what you can do to help our family. At this point, there really isn't anything we need: our fridge, freezer and pantry are bursting at the seams, and we are doing well, emotionally. So just continue to pray. I'm sure there will be a time in the days and weeks to come, when we will need your help and support in a more tangible way, but in the meantime, thank you for your love and concern. We have been blessed by each of you.

Birthday Gifts

Of all the gifts I received for my birthday, the best came in an unexpected way. Paul has been sleeping a great deal of the time, and when he is awake the things he says aren't always relevant to the present, thanks in part to the pain medications he is taking. On Sunday morning around 12:30, I woke up to the sound of him stirring in the other room. When I went to see what he needed, he asked if I wanted to sit next to him on the bed. I did, and he proceeded to talk to me for two hours. The fact that it was my Paul, not delirious Paul, was the true gift, one of the sweetest I've ever been given.

After we finished talking, he went back to sleep and I did the same. Several hours later, a loud noise jerked me back into consciousness. When I got to Paul's side, he was holding the tubing and IV needle from his port, the morphine pump lay on the floor. He told me he had pulled out "the stupid needle." He hadn't been using the morphine very much, so I wasn't too worried. An hour or so later, he realized what he'd done and asked me to call the hospice nurse to put it back in, saying he needed all the help he could get. The nurse came, but she let me re-access the port, talking me through the steps. It was a piece of cake; I've seen it done so many times before. She left extra needles and sterilization supplies, just in case Paul has a change of heart and removes it again.

We had lots of visitors and phone calls yesterday. It was a little overwhelming, but I know people want the opportunity to tell Paul of their love for him, and to support our family. If it helps others find peace, then we can deal with a little craziness once in a while, as long as there are periods of calm between the storms.

Update

This picture is unrelated to the post, but I wanted one that reflects the Paul we all know and love...

Paul came home from the hospital last Friday. He is being cared for by me and a hospice team that visits every few days. He is resting more comfortably here than he was at the hospital; most importantly, his pain is under control. We have a hospital bed set up in the dining room and I sleep on the couch in the living room so I am able to hear if Paul needs help during the night. The last few days he has been sleeping most of the time. When he is awake, he is often confused as to where he is and who is around him. One morning, I was "that girl they rescued with a helicopter," but the next I was "the best wife in the world" and "my dear, sweet wife." He quit eating while he was in the hospital, and doesn't drink much, either. Needless to say, his condition is declining.

Mom and Dad Parker spent a couple days this week helping out, and Lynn and Brent are coming tomorrow night and staying until Saturday. Mom and Dad Carling will be coming tomorrow to spend the day as well.
Paul's best friend from school drove up from Utah today. Parker didn't have school, due to a heating system failure at the high school, so he was able to sit and listen to Shane tell stories of the adventures that he and Paul had together as teenagers. It was cathartic for all of us.

We lived after the manner of happiness...

Christmas was bittersweet this year. We have been so blessed by wonderful family and friends who continue to shower us with love. To say "thank you" seems so inadequate, but I don't know how else to express the overwhelming sense of love we feel. We are surrounded by people who are acting as the Lord's hands here on earth. This was the hardest Christmas I have ever experienced. I was torn between the joy of watching the boys' excitement and the heartache of seeing Paul suffer. He slept off and on most of the day; but around 7 o'clock Christmas night, his nausea medicine seemed to quit working, which made it impossible for him to take pain medicine. He woke up in the middle of the night with a fever. I knew I needed to get him to the hospital, but with the blowing and drifting snow, I didn't dare go until it was light outside. He was admitted on Friday and is still there.

Dr. Hancock came to see us on Saturday morning, with the results of the PET/CT scan. Because of the amount of pain Paul is in, we weren't surprised to learn that the cancer has spread. There are new lumps underneath his arms; the one on his abdomen, as well as his left shoulder have grown.

These are the treatment options:

Try a different chemotherapy drug (Taxol)
Send Paul to Huntsman to enter a clinical trial
Send Paul home and keep him as comfortable as possible

Paul doesn't feel like he could make the trip to Salt Lake, so Huntsman is out of the question. And we're not quite ready to give up, so we opted to give Taxol a try. After we shared our decision with Dr. Hancock on Sunday morning, he called down to the hospital pharmacy to see if they had the drug in stock. They were out, but said they could order some. A short while later, the pharmacist called Dr. Hancock at church to tell him they had found some; and it just happened to be the correct dosage for Paul. So he had his first infusion Sunday afternoon. He is suffering from one of the more annoying side effects: hiccups. This happened a year ago when he did chemo the first time. He is receiving several different medicines to try and get rid of them, with varying degrees of success.

The entire Carling Clan descended on Rexburg Saturday afternoon. After lunch at Applebee's, the kids went to our house while the adults took turns visiting Paul at the hospital. At some point, they quit taking turns and we had twenty people in Paul's room. It was like a family reunion/wake -- not to be morbid, but it really did feel like a memorial service. It was wonderful. We are so grateful for the love and support of all of you. Cathy and Mom made us a beautiful wall quilt that depicts some of the favorite activities of our family and a pillow with the motto that the Carling family adopted when Paul was diagnosed almost sixteen months ago.
(click on picture for larger view)




We don't know what to expect in the coming weeks. If the medicine is going to work, we should know fairly quickly. In the meantime, I will apply for a deferment from BYU-I for Winter semester, though it breaks my heart to do it. I don't know yet whether I can defer the grant, too, but things will work out when I'm ready to go back.

Cameron and Jacob are in Utah with their cousins; Parker and Hayden have been hanging out with their favorite surrogate family. We love you all for watching over our boys. I have been spending my days with Paul, talking with him when he's awake, reading while he sleeps. I've nearly finished my second book. Thanks to all who have come to visit (especially those bearing Egg Nog smoothies from Jamba Juice.) We both have enjoyed the company. I don't know when he'll be coming home, but I will keep you posted.

"I'm Gettin' Nothin' for Christmas..."

Wednesday I went to the Third grade Christmas concert at Lincoln Elementary. Jacob did a great job singing. As you can see from the picture, he really got into character for some of the songs. The boys stayed busy with parties and activities during the final week of school for 2008. Cameron went with the rest of the Fifth grade to see "Tales of Despereaux" on Friday. I think most of the week was spent watching movies in class instead of doing work, but hey, it's Christmas! I'm sure the teachers have figured out that the productivity levels of their students are on par with sea sponges during the last week before break anyway.

Parker went snowboarding at Grand Targhee with the neighbors yesterday. He said it was very cold, but the snow was not bad. I have a running joke with our neighbor that he gets to claim Parker and Hayden on his tax return this year, since they have spent so much time down at their home.

Paul has had another rough week. The pain in his shoulder is still giving him grief. We're doing our best to make it bearable. We have an awesome home health nurse named Kate who makes sure we have the supplies we need so I can give Paul fluids and nausea medicine through his port when he's really sick. That saves us from late-night trips to the E.R. He is scheduled for a PET/CT scan on Tuesday afternoon. I don't know how soon we'll get results, with it being so close to Christmas, but we'll keep you posted.

The younger boys have been counting down the days until Christmas with four Advent calendars, though at this point, that's probably unnecessary. I'm sure they know how many hours, minutes and seconds are left! At this very moment, Hayden, Cameron and Jacob are in the other room watching home videos of Christmases past. I just heard Jacob say," You were so cute, Cameron!" This year our family has been treated to the Twelve Days of Christmas via UPS, the U.S. Postal Service, and even YouTube, courtesy of the Utah Carling Clan. It has been fun to see what surprises await us inside each envelope, package, and e-mail...thanks!

I got the results of my final exams...I got an A in English and a B in Science, but my overall final grades were A's in all three of my classes. I must have gotten some heavenly help to be able to maintain my grades in spite of the challenges I've had this semester. I was surprised by an e-mail I received inviting me to be a tutor next semester for the Foundations Science class I just completed. Apparently, my teacher was impressed with my performance. I respectfully declined the offer though, in light of my other responsibilities.

We will be spending Christmas at home, enjoying each other and wish the same for each of you. We are grateful for the opportunity we have to celebrate the birth of our Savior. We know that our Heavenly Father has a plan for each of us; we are grateful for the blessing of peace that has come into our lives as a result of this knowledge. The trials of the past sixteen months have been easier to bear because we know we aren't in charge and we aren't alone. We love you all and are so grateful for the love and generosity you have shown to our family (thank you, Pizza Fairy.)

'Tis the Season...

...of the Invisible Snow Shovel (unless you're a mom, in which case, you're automatically endowed with the ability to find things that mere mortals can't even see.)

...for disappearing hats and gloves -- I believe there's an unseen force that annually sucks them through a black hole in the back of the closet. Do you think that somewhere, on the other side of the Universe, there's a planet made entirely of winter accessories?

...when boys believe hats (if they can be found) are suitable substitutes for personal grooming. This is a direct quote: "My hair is going to get messed up anyway."

...for muddy footprints of varying sizes, this week, they happened to be about Men's size 11 (Paul wears a 10, so he's off the hook.)

...for final exams and projects. I took my last test yesterday, but I'm still waiting for the scores. Here are some pictures of the "creative response" portion of my English project:

I wore this shirt on the last day of class. Appropriately enough, we were discussing Frankenstein.




Simply choose a head and snap it on a body. Voila! Instant playmate.

I doubt this is what my professor was expecting, but you have to admit, he did leave the door wide open with the word "creative." I'm pretty sure no one else did anything like it. It's good to be memorable, isn't it?

Paul's chemo treatments got off to a rough start this week. He had an allergic reaction to one of the medicines that was supposed to help control the nausea; we ended up in the E.R. at 2 a.m. Tuesday morning. Things have been much better since we dropped that medicine from the roster. I gave him some I.V. fluids today, and he will take his last dose tonight. His pain is still pretty hard to control, but he's patiently enduring. We appreciate the kind words, prayers and generosity from all of you. It's nice to be so loved! The goodness of the people we share this world with continues to humble and amaze me. Thank you all.

I got some good news today: I have been chosen to receive a private grant that will cover my tuition, books and some other expenses for Winter semester. This is a such a blessing.

"We had still duties which we ought to perform."

Who ever thought I'd be quoting from Frankenstein? Fall semester ends in a week. I have two final exams to study for, as well as a large, time-consuming portfolio of Mary Shelley to assemble for my British Literature class. It involves a lot of reading, a great deal of writing, and a generous dose of blood, sweat and tears. (Just kidding about that last bit. My professor said when describing the assignment to others we should make it sound really difficult so they'll take pity on us. Did it work?) I would finish sooner if I wasn't a compulsive rewriter. My work goes through half a dozen iterations before I'll quit.

Paul has been able to work the last two days, in spite of the continuing pain in his shoulder. He starts oral chemo on Monday. At our appointment on Wednesday, Dr. Hancock said he wants Paul to have a PET/CT scan the week after next, rather than waiting until January. He has been consulting with Dr. Jones at Huntsman, about a possible surgery after the first of the year. Speaking of Dr. Jones, we got an e-mail from him with pictures of Paul's leg surgery. Only those with strong stomachs should ask to see them. They're pretty amazing, in a gross sort of way. He did say he sent "the least gross" of the bunch. Thanks!

Last night I took Paul to see the play She Loves Me at the university. The Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan movie You've Got Mail is based on the same story. It was a musical, making it a supreme sacrifice on Paul's part to sit through the whole thing. He's very good to humor me when it comes to cultural events. He even went to the Ballet with me when we were dating.

We put up Christmas decorations for Family Night. We haven't cut a tree yet, but might do that tomorrow, umm...I guess it's tomorrow already, so make that today, depending on how Paul feels. Parker is anxious for more snow, even praying for "moisture for the crops next year." But we know he really wants it for snowboarding. That's okay, it suits both purposes.