That was Anne’s response via text, when I asked how she was feeling this morning.

They say Day 3 after chemotherapy is when you start to really feel it.

Boy is THAT right. 

Facing the thief. Bear hunting. And feeling it. 

My mother-in-law Suzanne, herself a breast-cancer survivor, nailed it as we were talking about Anne’s physical state: “the sparkle goes out of the eyes for a while.”  Anne’s so tired that she’s having a hard time even finding the energy to talk. In fact, after attending Jack’s end-of-camp basketball game this afternoon, she came home and crashed for the last four hours.

We’re very thankful that the nausea has been minimal thus far. Praying it stays that way. As many of you can attest, that’s not always the case, as we learned firsthand during our own mothers’ successful battles with cancer.

Anne hasn’t articulated this, but I’m seeing another way in which cancer is a thief: it robs her of time with the kids. Cancer-appropriate comment – that sucks. 

Hopefully the specifics I’ve shared provide good fodder for praying. You know we love hearing how you are praying, so share away.

I mentioned in an earlier post that I’d sign off with something for which I’m thankful, that’s fun, or which gives you a window into our world. This quick story cracked me up…

Yesterday, Jack lost a tooth during basketball camp (something like his 13th?). Later that evening as we’re headed to bed, his brother Luke asked me if the tooth fairy was real (7 yr-old brain: lose a tooth, get money).

“What do you think, big guy?” I asked.  “Noooooo…but that means you and mom put money under our pillows, right?” To which I responded, “Well I don’t have to tell you that now do I!”

Coming to his brother’s defense, Jack chimes in with “Dad, it’s not like someone comes up from Africa and puts a few dollars under our pillow.”

Ha! Where Africa came from, I have no idea. But touché Jack, touché!

With gratitude and hope,

Van