From Stew

This afternoon I thought I could finally begin writing the completion of the Face to the Wall blog post that shares Stew's and my life together as he battled cancer. For so long, I could not pull the website up and had even contacted Ben to see if he knew what the problem might be. I finally discovered it when I went to the computer we use to use and there it was. On the newer computer the link always connected to my Legacy Living Life blog.  I can't explain it. I am thinking that maybe something happened when Ben and I began transferring everything over to a website he began creating for me.

Anyway, I finally connected, and as I went to the dashboard to click on "new post" there was a draft in the listings labeled "from Stew." I clicked on the link and with the very first line I totally lost it.

I had forgotten, (I think that is God's mercy) but now remember( this is God's grace) the morning he began this. I helped him to remember some of the words he couldn't find, and to spell them. Some I  typed while he spoke because he was too weary to use his hands.  We laughed that I was being his secretary and he kissed me on the cheek each time he was too tired or confused to go on. We would then just snuggle together and wait till he could remember. Sometimes we even dozed off.

 But it is all his words. It is all him. It is unfinished, but because it is his thoughts and thank you to those who cared, I am including it as is. No spelling corrections or changes.

I feel a little awkward about leaving in what he shared about me, but just remember that he saw and believed the best of me even when I didn't.

God's timing is always perfect, and finding this was God's timing for me. I hope it is for you, too.
Thank you for making him feel so loved.
Deb


This was written the beginning of June 2018

This morning finds Stew and I at home, sitting in the hospital bed and listening to the sound of thunder and rain outside while he attempts to get his thoughts together for a letter he would like to write to all of you.

Stew:

Good morning everyone. First, I want to say that if some of what I share seems to have a disconnect, I am sorry. The thoughts I have are not always connected even though they might seem like it in my mind. They become fuzzy and I lose track of conversations, don't remember words, or forget what I am thinking. My brain feels as though it is an echo chamber and all I hear is the sound of someone's voice, but I  can't understand the words that are being said. The opinion is that the cancer is spreading to my brain.

It scares me sometimes because I am afraid that I will forget the importance of the people in my life, their signature in my heart and it will hurt them. So while I am still able, I don't want to neglect telling those who have supported me, whether miles away or just next door, of their impact.

I feel that each of you have carried God's love and supported Deb and I on all sides. Your prayers have kept me protected, supported, and loved. Some have anticipated needs.

I also want to give credit to the  person who  most does that-my wife. Her day to day care for me has no glory, peace or comfort even of itself. Most of her day is unnoticed by any and everyone arouond her and that's because of her ability to knit all that goes on seemlessly into the day. She is the love of my life...she holds all the joy that I can see in her hands. Words will fall short of all that I want to express about her, but know this-if anything good is happening in my life it is because she had made it happen.

Not to short anyone, showing love and having opportunity can be difficult. To those who have sought out opportunities to encourage, love and be here. I have felt your touch both physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

And, to those whose opportunities are limited by distance I feel your prayers, your reaching out, the sacrifice in prayers that comes from a true spiritual warrior of whom I realize are many.

To my family, I am in awe at the sacrifices you have made...the outpouring of your presence, your love, your time, your help-Amy, Ben, our grandchildren, Dawnie you have loved me so well. I hope I have loved you well.

Sleep is hard to come by sometimes lately, because of difficulty grasping enough air, I have not wanted to go to sleep. There have been times when Deb has slept with me, on the floor beside me. Fresh air seems to help with nausea so there have been a few nights when I have tried to sleep outside in a lawn chair. Deb gets me settled and then pulls up another one beside me for her so I can hold her hand and am not alone.

Pain is being managed well, but I am aware that my strength is decreasing and getting out of bed requires help sometimes.

I need an oxygen tank all the time.

4:30 am Monday morning, May 7th

*Note: As you can see, this was written almost a month ago. I thought I had posted it, but with all that was going on I didn't. 


It's 4:30 in the morning and Stew has just battled another bout of nausea. Sitting outside seems to help him some, so that is what we do. On chilly mornings, like today, he is wrapped up in the Steeler's blanket from head to toe. He is now back in bed asleep.

Recently it seems as though the nausea attacks come more during the night and wee dawn hours. Hospice has provided some sublingual pills for nausea and for that we are very thankful.

The oxygen is definitely helping him breathe and rest better. The sound of it in the room has put our boxer, Morgan, on edge. But, Charlee is sticking to Stew like glue. She sleeps on the floor right beside his bed and doesn't voluntarily move except for food and potty runs.

I have a mattress under the hospital bed that I can pull out to sleep near him, too. I guess we just all need to be close together.

These past few days have been made up of tears, tender moments, pain, and prayer. But somewhere in the moments, Stew's gentle smile will sneak its way into my heart and all is okay simply because he's here.

A recap of the most recent changes:

Pain crisis:  While at an appointment on Monday, April 23, Stew's body, even with the pain medicines he was taking, could no longer restrain the pain. He had experienced two pain attacks at home before even making it to the hospital, but this one was even more aggressive. Everyone went into urgency mode. It was a pain crisis which is "a medical emergency that requires aggressive assessment and intervention." He was immediately admitted to the hospital and a morphine drip was initiated along with close monitoring. It was bad. We kept praying that he would make it home again. Praise God, he did!

God Blessings: Our compassionate, caring, experienced team of medical professionals. Our nurse, AJ, whom we love and appreciate dearly came in at one point and held me with the kind of hug that allows you to just break a little and yet gives strength at the same time. There is something to be said about the offering of shared tears and the difference it makes. She remained with Stew and I every minute, even going with us to the hospital room and making sure that he was settled in.

While there Stew had the care of one of our favorite oncology floor nurses, who is a cancer survivor herself, and one of our special-to-us praying aides.

Amy brought everything I needed to the hospital and visited with us each evening, as did Clarke. And our dear friend Debby immediately stepped in, without being asked, and stayed at our house to care for my sister who could not be left alone.

What a breath giver they all were, along with those who were praying. I would not have known where or how to begin to ask for help. Stew was the only thing on my mind. But, they all knew and just did.

Before leaving, we had a visit with the social worker about Hospice Care. It was a difficult discussion that ended with us saying we needed to speak with our children first.

Family: Stew was discharged with a pain patch and time released morphine pills Wednesday evening. We had a reprieve once again. Ben and family arrived Friday morning and stayed until Monday afternoon. Such a joy giver it was to have all of our family together! So much laughter, time, tears, and more. (The next post will include pictures and share more.)

God Blessings: As soon as they knew our family was coming in, two friends offered their homes and vehicles for their use. Four of our neighbors went together and provided homemade food in abundance to feed all 16 of us. Another friend who lives 30 minutes away, brought fruit, stuffed peppers, rice-krispie treats, soup and more! She also spent time on the patio with me and gave the gift of a listening ear, shared tears, and prayer. Yet another friend filled a metal tub with all kinds of snacks for the family along with bringing bottled water. All gifts...all a blessing. There is something burden-lifting when others have traveled so closely with you that they know the needs without asking. Again, if someone had asked me what was needed, I wouldn't have been able to answer.

In an emotionally tender and special time, friends and neighbors stepped forward, gave out of their hearts, and caused us to continue to be able to breathe and simply enjoy our family time together.

Hospice: The Tuesday after Ben and family left, Stew's body began to undergo subtle changes. He was hurting again.  On Thursday his breaths were causing pain almost continuously.

By Thursday night he was experiencing increased difficulty breathing and vomiting.  It was our longest night thus far. We called Dr. B. He told us this was the cancer. Stew did not want to go to the hospital. He wanted to remain at home.

Prayers were requested via the Prayer for My Dad page. Stew tried to rest in the recliner and I stretched out on the floor by his feet praying...declaring...imploring God for help and time.

Friday morning at 8:30 am Hospice called and by 10 am they were in our home. With our agreement to accept Hospice Care, Dr. B. had requested them ASAP.  By Friday afternoon the hospital bed, oxygen, and other equipment was set up. Later that evening medicines and a comfort pack were delivered to our door.

God Blessings:  His faithful Presence at ALL times.

The prayers of many, the words of hope and encouragement, and the kindness!

 Dawnie, limited in mobility, but still praying while everything was happening.

Amy's love and support. She was here late that Thursday night talking with a pharmacist, getting ginger ale for her dad, and even making a trip to Whole Foods for ginger oil in an attempt to settle his stomach.  She came again Friday morning for emotional support when Hospice arrived.

The needed conversation of what was possibly ahead and signing of the paperwork stripped away most of my tears' control. But, all three of the Hospice people were compassionate, kind, and explained everything in a gentle directed manner. The gentleman in training even helped move the furniture out of the Steeler Room to make space for the hospital bed.

Everything they did was aimed at bringing Stew's body to a place of comfort and relief. It worked.

Things are changing again and we don't know what is yet to come, but as long as Stew is still here we have reason to hope,
    reason to believe,
        reason to fight,
           and reason to be thankful.

Faces to the Wall,
Love,
Stew and Deb

One of the most caring questions asked, and the most difficult to answer is:

How is Stew doing?  

He is fighting, still prayerfully determined, depending on the Father, and hurting. For so long he has been able to push past the way his body was betraying him with cancer and still enjoy so much life.  We knew how to take rests, make adjustments, etc. That has been God's grace gift to us.

Now we are watching the disease overtake him...(this is so hard to put into words)

Stew is in a lot of pain, unable to eat much, and so tired. His stomach is swollen, and sometimes he leans against the wall or holds onto things when he walks. It all depends on how his balance is at that moment.

 He can not always feel his feet or his fingers.

In fact, last time we were able to dance under-the-stars, he couldn't even tell that he was stepping on my toes. As we  held each other and carefully danced to "Make You Feel My Love" we laughed and then cried.

His nights are spent in constant movement, or sitting on the edge of the bed as he attempts to adjust his position to minimize the pain. When we lie down in the evening, we place pillows about Stew so I don't accidentally bump him, and we gently hold hands.

Most of the hours of his days this week have been spent in bed.

Those who share their days with us are seeing it, too. It hurts to know their hearts are aching because of their love for him, but it also brings him comfort to see them pressing in even more to be actively and sacrificially present in our lives...another God grace gift to give us hope and strength. We are humbled by the love they show in simply staying close.

Even in tears, I love to see the love of my life being loved so well.

We knew mentally all the possibilities of what could happen to Stew (without a miracle) at our very first oncology visit, but knowing with your head isn't the same as experiencing it in your heart and seeing it before your eyes. To now be living it out makes us feel as though we are slowly breaking in pieces.

Yet, at the same time we are continually reminded, even this week, of the kindnesses of the Father, the truth of His Word, and His never-ending love. He has graced our days with some moments of laughter and the treasure of His Presence. 

Still praying for a miracle. Still keeping Faces to the Wall. 

Love,

Stew and Deb

Some sweet moments the past week:

Hearing the low sound of Noah's and Stew's voices in the bedroom as Noah visited with him and they talked.

Listening to Shiloh pray for her PawCaw.

Holding hands with my best friend and love of my life.

Amy's evening visits and daily texts to check on us and say "I love you."

Laura's daily prayers and listening ear.

The prayers of my BSF class, group leader, and their understanding.

Clarke and Stew's friendship. It is something special to see.

Listening to Stew go beyond the way he feels to comfort and pray for a neighbor overcome by grief.

Debby coming to our home twice a week to stay with my sis so Stew and I can go to the clinic.

My sis and the way she makes me laugh.

A new friend's offer to come over any time day or night if needed.

God's kind Presence in early morning quiet time.

Stew's gentle smile.

My hair stylist, Holly, who knows just how to keep life normal and make me laugh.

A precious Resurrection Sunday afternoon with family and friends.

Boxes of Kleenex.

The prayers of so many...of you!

God timed texts from a dear friend I have never met. (Thank you, Kenya)

Smoothie King

And...

Ben, Nili, Ellie, Talia, Zion, Hosanna, Grace, Asher, Bethania, and Moriah are coming to visit! All our family in one place. 

Thankful💕

Now for the Hard One

Two weeks ago we  met with Katie for the normal labs and check up. During that meeting we requested that our appointments be further apart rather than the normal every two week visit. We also asked to receive any test results over the phone rather than having to wait for a follow up appointment. She agreed to try both.

Our visit that day didn't take long. Labs were the way they had always been lately. Some numbers high, some low. Stew's symptoms weren't much different either. Stomach discomfort and swelling with increasing back and hip pain. We also had hit the three month mark on the newly released medicine he is taking, so a Pet Scan was scheduled to monitor his progress.

When we left our appointment we did what we try to do after each visit and that is celebrate! We made the decision at the beginning of all this, that we were going to celebrate in advance of any test results. We wanted to intentionally rejoice in the gift of our God given life itself.  Not just when we received answers we wanted.

Our idea of a celebration usually involves a short walk, a stop at Petra's, a trip to Half Price Book store, a quick drop by visit with Amy and the kids, or our favorite splurge...a smoothie from Smoothie King. That time it was the smoothie and a short walk.

Last week Stew had his three month pet scan. The process involves prior fasting, an injection, lying flat for an hour and a half with an IV, and then a 15-20 minute scan.

Each time we go we have been blessed to meet someone who shares part of their story.

Last week it was a woman who had a kidney transplant a year ago. Even though she was having a few challenges along the way, it was a successful procedure and an answer to a long time prayer. Her joy was contagious as she shared about her new found life. We were so thankful to have the gift of rejoicing with her!

When Stew's scan was complete we made our trip to Half Price Bookstore and Smoothie King. It is now a standing joke with us that I inhale my smoothie and Stew slowly sips to the last drop. Also, that cancer has even changed his reading habits.

I am a compulsive reader. He has never been one, except for his Bible. Now though, he walks out of that store with a larger stack than I do!! It is fun to see and always causes us to laugh.

While there we met a delightful 75 year old gentleman in the religious clearance section. He taught in a Bible College for 43 years. As he looked for a Scofield  Bible, the only one he has used his entire life, he shared pearls of wisdom with us that had impacted his own life. One statement he made was that "sometimes God brings us through something to bring us to something."

Yesterday afternoon we called to get the Pet Scan test results. Katie called us back last night at 7:20. We had just begun our evening book study with Debby and Clarke when the phone rang. As we answered the phone, we all became quiet in anticipation of what would be said. What she had to share was definitely not what we wanted to hear.

She prepared us by saying it was not what we had all been hoping for. The news was not good. She then shared that the lymphoma has continued to spread/increase significantly quickly.

It is now pretty much everywhere. The scan revealed that it is located around Stew's neck area, lungs, heart, pelvic region, stomach, and even his spine. We listened intently as we tried to fight the tears that were welling up.

Katie tried to encourage us, and maybe herself, by sharing that she would continue to pray. She also reminded us they would not give up and that Dr. B was already looking into what else they might be able to do. The phone call ended with her encouragement and us telling her how very much we appreciated her making the call as we had asked rather than having us wait. We could tell it was not easy for her.

We sat stunned for a minute. The four of us held hands as Clarke prayed. There were hugs, a few tears and then Clarke and Debby quietly left to allow  us time together. We were glad they were here.

As we stood on the front porch waving good by to them, we held each other's hand a bit tighter. Truthfully, I couldn't help but ask the Father silently, "How many more times will we get to do this, God? How many more times will we stand here together holding hands?" He answered with peaceful silence. I knew He was there...and that He had been the unseen listener to our conversation.

As we stood there holding hands, He was holding us both.

When we entered our home we took a deep breath and called our children and sisters. It was not easy.We reached 3 out of 4. Our conversations were about the news, the reminder to each other that we were not giving up hope, and a few tears. Parents are not suppose to bring hurt to their children's lives.

Then, even though the "spiritual" thing might have been to fall on our knees in prayer, that is not what Stew and I did. We each took a deep sigh, quietly left the room where we made the calls, held hands, walked into our bedroom, and crawled into bed silently holding each other. No words. Just quietness and thoughts. Sometimes you just need to be close to the one you love most. And there are times, many times, when you feel your closest to the Father just by being still.

With love, gratitude, and faces to the wall,
Stew and Deb

P.S. We have been together in this long enough for us to be able to share what is on our heart with you. Please, please, don't replace your prayers for us with worry. We really need those of you who are praying to continue doing so.

And, know that this news absolutely stinks! Cancer stinks! In the natural we are losing a lot of ground, but with God all things are still possible.

Yes...
We are a bit shaken, but we are not shaken in our faith.
We didn't receive the news we wanted, but we are not without hope.
We have cried and will still yet, but we are also able to smile.
Our hearts are hurting, but the Father is comforting.
This hit has been hard, but in Him we are not giving up.

Stew and I  have absolutely no reason to complain. God has blessed us, and continues to bless us beyond measure with our family,
those who are in our lives,
those we meet,
good doctors who really care,
with every morning we wake up to enjoy an added day of life together,
and with you!

We knew from the beginning Stew's healing would come from the hands and the heart of the Father, even if he used men to bring it about. So, that is where we are going to stay...in the hands and heart of the Father by the strength of His love and grace. He can handle any hurt or tears we bring to Him. He can handle whatever the enemy flings our way. It is Who He is.

Thankful for added days, the Father's love, and you.
Faces to the Wall.
Stew and Deb

Stew's Story...military years part 2

This post is a continuation of the previous one.


Stew then included a personal note along with his answers:

There is another side of all this that Deb and I would like to share with you that probably doesn’t apply to your report, but will hopefully give you a whole perspective of military life, not just war time.

Our years in the military, except for Vietnam, had special times and difficult times, just like every life does. We know without a doubt we made the right decision each time we reenlisted. We would pray and do what we felt God was saying.

 In the military, fellow soldiers and their families became more than friends, they were family. 

Living away from home, each of our own families could not be there for family events. So, we became each other’s family as we shared life together. We went to each other’s children’s special events at school, sports, and church. We celebrated holidays together, laughed together and cried together. We stuck together through the most difficult of times and in the best of times.

Each change in duty station was filled with sad good byes, concerns for how our family would adjust in the new place, the apprehensions and joys of starting over, and the hope of making of new friends…a new sense of community.

It was not always easy. Sometimes the places we were assigned experienced terrorist threats, bomb threats, and heightened security. One time military police had to patrol our children’s schools to ensure their protection.

 But we look back and know without a doubt it was all worthwhile. Our memories are shaped with the places we lived, the people we met, the experiences we had, and the things we learned. Some of those people are still our friends and family and have been for at least thirty years. We have so many more good memories than negative.

 It has instilled in all of us a love of country, God, and strong sense of patriotism. We began learning how much we needed God in our life and what a gift it was to have the freedom to love Him and live for Him.

We asked Amy how it impacted her, and this is what she said: " I loved being an army brat. It allowed us to experience other cultures and different locations in a way that changed us and added to who we are …not just vacations. We grew up with diversity. The negative was leaving friends and schools. There was always a sadness in leaving and a nervousness in being new, but it was always mixed with excitement too. For the new experiences.

I think it helped me to become someone who is more accepting of change and even looks forward to new experiences. And, I think it helped me to know who I am and what I believe better because I was exposed to so much that was different. "

Thank you _______________ for the opportunity to share.

*Stew and I were asked once if we were angry with the military/government because he is now battling mantle cell and it is considered Agent Orange related. Our answer was and still is, "No."

How can we be angry or have regrets when God used our 24 years in the military to:
Grow us
Teach us
Love on us
Walk with us through difficult times and joyful moments
Give us wonderful opportunities to see His creation around the world
Bless us with friends like family who are still with us after all those years, and
Build for us memories that we still hold dear.

He was with us then as He is now. To look back with regret or anger would be to diminish all the good...all the blessings He brought into our lives. It would be like saying He is not enough.

And, He is always always more than enough!

Love, gratitude, and faces to the wall,
Stew and Deb

Some of Stew's Story...part one

Cancer is not who Stew is.
Cancer is not his only story.
Cancer can not rob him of the life he has lived, or the days he has yet to.

The thought has crossed our mind that for many cancer is the only chapter of Stew's life that is known, but there is so much more.

So, we would like to change that at least a little bit. Some may not know that Stew served in the United States Army for 24 years. He was drafted during the Vietnam War.

Recently he was asked by a young sophomore girl I know if he would be her "soldier" and answer survey questions for a school assignment. He said yes.

It is a bit long, but well worth the read.

1.      What is your full name? Gary Vance Stewart

2.      What branch of the military did you serve in? The United States Army

3.      How many years did you serve? I was drafted in February of 1970 and served until 1994.  I served for 24 years.

4.      Where did you serve? I was drafted during the Vietnam War. I completed basic training at Fort Dix, New Jersey, and my AIT (Advanced Infantry Training) in Fort Ord, California. From there I was sent to Cu Chi, the jungles of Vietnam, and Kontum. 

Following that, as a family, we were stationed in:

Fort Riley, Kansas,

East Liverpool, Ohio, as a Recruiter

Schwabach, Germany,

Nuremberg, Germany,

Fort Knox, Kentucky,

Schweinfurt, Germany,

and Fort Polk, Louisiana.

5.      How old were you when you enlisted? I didn’t. I was drafted in 1970. I was 19.

6.      How long was your longest deployment period? Germany-5 years.

                                                                                                                                             

7.      How did your absence affect your family? Except for Vietnam, they were all accompanied tours. I was in Vietnam for 11 months and 24 days. During that time Deb and I were engaged, but not  married. It was difficult for her and my parents. Mail was not shipped on a regular basis and phone calls were extremely rare. To make a call I had to be at a base, which was not often, and wait in line with other soldiers to make a radio call that sometimes failed. Each soldier only had 3 minutes. I was able to call home 1 time.

 Even though I would write to her daily when possible she could go 2, 3, 4 weeks or longer without receiving anything. Mail was sent out in bulk and only when I returned to the base.

During the no mail times the only information she received was that which she heard on the television or read in the newspaper. It is frightening to read that the last place you knew your loved one was located was overrun by the Viet Cong.

She would wait for the mailman every day in hopes for a letter. If one came she would check the date to see if it was written prior to an attack, or after. If it was written after, there was relief. If it was written before, fear and worry. Even though it wasn’t spoken out loud, inside she and my parents were waiting for either a personal letter, or the notification of death that no one wanted to receive.

She was only 17/18. I was only 19/20. She had to learn to face and deal with fear, while still hoping to see me. So was I.

 There were other times that I was gone on maneuvers, and times we were separated as a family during the transition of a move. The longest being 4 months.  For my wife, during those absences she was basically the only present parent with all the responsibilities that went with that role.  We had a calendar that our children would mark off each day until my expected day of return. And, they would pray for me.

For our son, when he was younger, his grades would drop slightly and he would become a bit more unsure, timid and have difficulty sleeping. This would happen for about two weeks and then he would begin to adjust to the change.

For our daughter, she seemed to understand that it was only for a period.

I asked our son how he felt it was during my absences.

He said that he knew I was gone, but he doesn’t really remember what it felt like except for one big memory. That memory was of a time when I was due to come home and he kept asking his mom if it was the day yet. When she finally said yes, he climbed a tree and waited so he could see “his dad” coming home.

What was life like upon returning home?

Upon my return from Vietnam, soldiers were not welcomed home. In fact, it was the exact opposite. The reaction in the larger airports made it obvious that we weren’t welcome. You would wear your uniform on a military flight and change into civilian clothes to take the domestic flight.

Life was an adjustment. I was glad to be home, but still had memories of the battles fought. I almost felt the need to not let others know that I had been in Vietnam.

I was so happy to be home. But, it took a while to be able to sleep soundly, to get use to the normalcy of everyday life, and to learn how to relax again. I wanted to be where I was, not talk about where I had been.

Returning home from shorter separations, once I had a family, were always highly anticipated times filled with lots of hugs, talking, and catching up.

How did war change the future of your family?

For my parents and I, our relationship was never the same. They never really asked what it was like, how I was, or wanted to discuss the time I was gone. It was as if that time of my life never existed for them. They couldn’t deal with what I had faced. That left a wall between us.

It also changed the dreams Deb and I had set.  We both lived in small towns where most people went to school, got a job, got married, and remained there. Serving in a war opened our eyes to something more. We were married two weeks after my return and moved to Fort Riley, Kansas. We chose to remain in the military for 24 years. So, it not only changed our future, but the type of life our children experienced.

What was deployment life like and what kind of relationships did you have with other soldiers?

If this question is applied to war time deployment my answer is that is too difficult to describe so that another would understand.

Here is just a glimpse.

We never knew where the enemy was and when we would come upon them.

Temperatures were as high as 120 degrees, and there were monsoon seasons where it would rain for weeks at a time. Days were spent walking in rice paddies and nights spent sleeping in them. We always took turns sleeping because guards were always needed. I was afraid to sleep and too tired not to.

We were carrying weapons that we had never heard of just three months prior. There were leeches, jungle rot, scorpions, porcupines, and snakes called Charlie step and a half.

Death was always close, and life was always hoped for. We lost fellow soldiers right before our very eyes.

And, during it all, there was a sense of togetherness. We needed each other. We depended on one another for our safety and protection. As soldiers who had never met before, we had to quickly learn to trust each other, we were all we had and that was everything.

 When we would return to the base camp, we would rest, play cards, and sometimes share about home and family. There was not a lot of talk about the future.

Last week Stew and I went to the VA Facilities approximately 45 minutes from our home.  Our applications have been accepted and our badges given for us both to become volunteers at the VA Community Living Center! 

 Stew is hoping to  have one on one visits with those who live there. He wants to be a listening ear to their stories and let them know that he understands. His prayer is they will feel valued and know their service in appreciated.

I am hoping to volunteer in the Dementia/Alzheimer's wing.

On our way out we saw the helicopter in the above picture. It is the type of helicopter that Stew rode in. As we reflected on those days and he shared some about the experiences he had, we both felt such gratitude that he made it home, and such sorrow for those who didn't.

Thanking the Father for you,

Deb and Stew

---

  

November 2017 Catch Up in Photographs 1

November 2017 began pretty rough for Stew. Within a few days of Ben returning to Tennessee, Stew began battling a 102-103 fever even with Tylenol. It came on totally unexpected. 

We knew, and so did our team, that he had been experiencing more stomach pain, muscle pain, and that his energy level had been decreasing but it was thought to simply be where we were in the process. But, when we went to sleep one night and I woke up feeling as though a furnace was against me alarms went off inside my head. Fevers that do not go away and are unexplained are the dreaded complication that no one wants to have. 

Stew had experienced them at night before. He had even had night sweats. But nothing like this. No matter what we tried, or the on call doctor suggested, we could not get the fever to break. (And, of course this was on a weekend.)

So, late Sunday evening found us driving to Medical City Dallas Emergency Room. Somehow the 35-45 minute drive seemed to take so much longer than it normally did. They quickly took him back to a private room and began doing tests.

At 4 am, after multiple tests and an IV, it was determined that Stew possibly had something viral. They released us to return home with the instructions to see our doctor in the morning. Stew slept off and on as we traveled home and I alternated between prayer and talking out all my feelings to the Father.

Once Dr. B. and Katie saw him later that day they immediately made arrangements for his admission to the hospital.  By this time he was in so much pain that it hurt him to even move his head. 

Stew ended up remaining in the hospital for 8 days. His fever went up to 103.8. None of the initial tests indicated anything definite as to a cause for the high temperature, bed drenching sweats, or the pain.

When ever Stew was able to fall asleep, the chapel became my place of rest and a few tears. I could sit there and "Be still" as the Father's peace flooded the room and me. The minute I entered, the prayers of so many before me could be felt along with His Presence. 

                                           

And God in His infinite mercy continued to make His love known to us in many many ways. My sis and Amy were lifelines for us. Dawn made arrangements with her boss to work from our home. She came and stayed at the house for 6 days taking care of dogs, doing things in the house and visiting the hospital each day with goodies for me to eat. Amy, Shi, and Noah helped out wherever was needed, too. Their love and the visits from people who were faithful to be there made things a lot easier. Homemade chicken soup with fruit was even brought to us by dear friends. 

 We were strengthened by the amazing care of nurses, assistants, and those in housekeeping. Stew's room became a place where prayers were offered and life stories were shared...theirs and ours. One nurse said she felt peace and hope whenever she came to see him. Even the dietitian intern who visited our room for a satisfaction survey shared with Stew some of his life which led to the discussion of a common faith in God.

At the end of a long and sometimes painful hospital stay we all knew what had happened. The targeted therapy pill Stew had been taking (our strongest remaining possible door opener for a stem cell transplant) had become toxic to his body. Once they discontinued it the fevers began to drop and pain lessened. It meant though that there was no other available treatment for Stew at that time.

Not things we wanted to hear, but we were so so thankful he was well enough to go home that we chose to let gratitude and joy flood our hearts and block fear from filling our minds.  How could we not be thankful? He had entered the hospital in a wheel chair and he was leaving walking on his own!

God was continuing to add to our days!

P.S. Two weeks later a new targeted therapy pill was released from clinical trials! The hand of the Father and the prayers of those who are faithful (you) continue keep the doors open for miracles.

With love and gratitude,

Stew and Deb 

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Great are You Lord by Sons and Daughters