While home Steven took every opportunity to do the things he loved.
We went on a buggy ride because his horse, Big Sexy, "was really wanting to go"...
...and he enjoyed every moment with the kids.
They are his life.
He made a point to do everything with the kids that they love to do. He wanted their life at home to "be normal".
And that IS what Steven always does.
You see, Steven has always made time for his kids. Lakyn rode her horse and Blake rode the tractor. These are common occurrences that they share with their daddy.
It was no wonder that Lakyn said that Steven being home made everything feel as if it WERE "back to normal".
In fact, it felt so normal that she even asked me to get out our Halloween decorations for the house. The house we had spent very little time in lately. I obliged.
The signs of the "abnormal" part of our life were still there, such as Steven requiring more rest periods, but they were small in comparison, and we chose not to focus on them.
Except for the signs of encouragement from the kids...
Those signs we focused on.
I think my first mistake was putting my sense of peace in the hands of the doctors.
The doctors do not prescribe peace.
That has to be found elsewhere.
It was for this reason that when we arrived on Tuesday morning, 3 hours from home, with confidence in the fact that we would be returning to said home, the peace was knocked out of me by a doctor who believed that we needed to stay.
3 hours from home
For 3-4 weeks.
I had, mentally, prepared for the stay when the transplant was to take place. However, the current news, and the reasons behind it, stole the air from my lungs.
Although possibly not all that uncommon, (honestly, I'm really not sure) hearing that there were still "immature cells", which are generally a sign of leukemia returning, and that the second round of chemo needed to start right away, and preferably in St. Louis, stole my very fragile sense of peace from me.
Obviously the peace hadn't been well placed. I had treated it like valuable china spinning on stick in a circus.
One false move and it all came crashing down.
Hearing that if the second round of chemo didn't put Steven into remission, the percentages for all other positive results went down, made me shatter, just like spinning, off-balance, china.
I know that the doctors still feel as if there are options and a chance for a cure.
I know that Steven is tough.
I know that percentages are based off of many 80+ year old people that skew the odds.
And I know, but needed to be reminded, that the doctors aren't in any more control than I am.
They have knowledge, they have education, they have experience, and they have the ability to treat Steven....but they don't have control.
This proclamation is easier to say than it is to practice.
I'm a control freak.
It is my false sense of control, that lead me to be so easily shaken, AGAIN, by this disease.
I must work on it and pray on it.
Please continue to pray for us all.