The Best News

Vicky had her third treatment today.

Here is the good news:
* She is half-way done with her treatments before surgery.
* She is handling the therapy with grace and health.
* And the best news of all: Her doctor said that her tumor is significantly smaller. In fact, he had a difficult time finding it.

We've had prayers of gratitude constantly in our hearts from the moment we heard that. It is as if the heavens have opened and the sun is streaming upon us for the first time since her diagnosis was confirmed.

She is my day, my night, my everything. I feel as if I'm walking on air.

Valentine's Day

For Valentines day, we went to a fancy dinner at USU with a bunch of our brothers and sisters and their spouses. First time in a long time that Vicky had really been on a trip, and she looked gorgeous...

My mom said: "We loved seeing you both last night. What a supremely handsome couple!"

We went to visit our daughter Genevieve after the dinner and had a wonderful talk. She said, "Isn't it funny that you have to get cancer in order to truly look stylish. Something about it makes you step up and start really paying attention to how you look."

I believe there might be something to that. My wife has never looked more beautiful. The way she uses scarves and hats are truly stunning, and she's got it going on with the rest of the clothes she wears, too. 

As we were talking with Genevieve, I looked over at Vicky, who had the little baby in her lap, as contented as a woman could be...

To top things off, Vicky gave me the coolest Valentine's Day present: a giant pack of Twizzlers. When she handed them to me, she said, "I'm giving you these so you can remember that you've got me Twizzled around your little finger."

How sweet. :-)

I think people are a little jealous when I start talking about my wife, how she just built a new kitchen table for us last week, and how she has projects going because that's what makes life fun. How lucky am I, to be married to a woman that loves spiffing up the world around her?

The luckiest guy in the world, that's who.

Rosie the Riveter

The dreaded day has come: Vicky has resurrected the Honey-Do list.

She's been busy all day making our new keeping room shine, and thinking and tinkering around with the chimney and mantle. When I got home, she said, "You have to do just one favor for me tonight."

I held my breath.

"Hang the two pictures on the chimney. The temple picture over the mantle, and the First Vision picture on the chimney in the keeping room."

I prepared myself mentally and physically for the task during dinner. Not so bad as tasks go, but it didn't look good for future Honey-Do lists, which tend to blossom in scope.

While we were eating, Vicky looked so cute in her beanie cap, I had to snap a picture...

Check out the rolled-up sleeves and one arm draped over the vacuum cleaner. Parker dubbed her "Rosie the Riveter."

Then it was time to hang the pictures. We got a fresh pack of our favorite tool, Wall-Dogs, to do the job with style. Here's the first picture...

We love how the light is shining down on the prophet from above.

The second one was our Al Rounds painting of the Logan Temple. Here's Vicky dusting and adjusting the lights...

And -- voila!

During dinner, Vicky started telling us about a video from the Swedish Ronninge chorus they watched at Sweet Adelines on Tuesday night:

"They showed this beautiful winter scene with evening sunset, right? And the caption read: 'May in Sweden.' Then they continued showing it as the caption changed to 'June in Sweden,' then 'July in Sweden.'"

She laughed. "It was so funny! So then, they show a picture of a single flower poking up from the snow and the caption read: 'June 21st to June 24th in Sweden.' You should have seen it!" More laughter. "And they kept sticking in subliminal pictures of Abba. It was so funny."

I sat there, listening to the delighted ringing chimes of her voice, so musical as she talked and laughed. 

I can't imagine a more beautiful sound; not in Sweden, not in the whole wide world. 

Just Singing a Song

Vicky went to her Sweet Adelines chorus tonight. First time she's felt up to going since her diagnosis. She dressed up in a gorgeous scarf that flowed half-way down her back, got in the car, and drove herself there.

The reception she got was something to see. The ladies were so surprised and happy to see her, and there were many exclamations, and hugs and little squeezes of the hand. She sang her heart out. These are her people. They love her and she loves them, and she loves ringing chords with them.

It was a very happy night.

And then there were four...

Last night at 12:38am, I was jolted awake by my phone dinging. It was an incoming text:

What ensued was a long phone conversation this afternoon, while I was sitting at a sidewalk table outside the Boulangerie Bakery on Main Street. 

"I don't know what to do," I said. "I didn't expect her to take a stand like this, and I was planning on shaving my head with you."

We talked about what it would be like if Farrell just went ahead (no pun intended). He said, "You have been prevented / spared from this task, but, like they said in that terrible movie National Treasure: 'Somebody's got to go to prison!'"

We finally struck on a idea. Farrell and his family comes to my house with Walnut Shrimp and a shaving kit, and we put it before Vicky this way: "Farrell is getting his head shaved regardless. You have a small window of time to recant your position on your own husband."

I called Parker to give him a heads-up (again, no pun intended). He very soon thereafter sent me a text: "Would it be stealing Farrell's thunder if I did it, too?"

What a sweet kid. 

So it came down, just about as planned. With surprise and great fanfare, Farrell and Laurel and Sarah Jane swept into the house, Chinese food in hand...

and we settled before a great spread of walnut shrimp, orange chicken, beef and snow peas and fried rice...

And then, a moment of silence...

... and Parker tore in:

...to the great hilarity of the guests. They started making suggestions...

and egging Parker on...

which resulted in some very interesting configurations on Farrell's way to shiny...

We had some great tunes on the box: Tower of Power, the Coucills, Maceo Parker and the Meters. Parker couldn't help but start dancing...

...as did the peanut gallery.

And then the finishing touches...

... and Farrell was done.

And then there were two clear heads...

Parker stepped up to the plate and prepared himself for the worst...

And the maestro did his worst...

with some help from Farrell...

And Vicky had a third compadre...

Now came the moment. We all held our breaths as Vicky deliberated her own husband's fate. Would there be a late-decision reversal in the appellate court? Or would she stand strong? There was now but one furry head left, besides the beagles. 

I will forever believe that the element that finally broke Vicky's resolve was good old competition.  Vicky had seen the attempts at artistry taken on the previous two heads, and finally, with a sigh and a roll of her eyes, decided to show us how it was done. 

I was honored to be the canvas upon which she painted...

 Then, when she had proven her point, she graciously let Parker and Farrell finish the job...

Couldn't be a better looking quartet...

There aren't words to describe the gratitude we have for Farrell, and his determination to join the fray, even when forces seemed marshaled against him. He kept looking for a path, recruiting Parker and me on the way, until together, we cast off our regard for all things hair in a stupendous evening of fun, music and celebration.

The two images I'm left with are these:

Bic Night

Some wondrous things are happening to Vicky's skin. All her moles are fading away, getting smaller and smaller and some all but gone. The chemo also targets hair follicles. Since she buzzed her head a couple of weeks ago, her hair was hanging in there...

... until 3 or 4 days ago. Then her head decided it had basically had enough and started sending her hair on its way. Vicky got very tired of it, and so tonight became...

night!

This is Vicky 2 weeks ago with her buzz...

Here she is tonight getting the treatment...

Parker ran to Wal-Mart to get some Edge shaving cream. It was a cool menthol blue, and Vicky looks very sheik in it, don't you think?

Better than the spa. Her hair dresser was a true artist, and you can tell from the pictures that he considered this his coup de grace.

While I was working, she said, "It's funny how I'm not really upset about this."

"It's been a while coming, and you've been so tired of your hair coming out, it's got to be a relief."

"I guess it is."

And now

(fanfare trumpets and french horns....)

Vicky's Brand New Look! 

If she rocked the buzz cut, then this definitely brings down the house.