I snapped these photos tonight as the thunder was booming and ping pong ball raindrops were starting to fall. My old camera doesn't do the clouds justice... they were vibrant! I'll be honest though, I don't care for storms, they scare me. I go into "red alert"-- I put fresh batteries in flashlights, gather candles, fill jugs with water, make sure the widows are locked and doors securely closed. Forget about sleeping, the pounding of my heart and my anxious nerves waiting for the next clap of thunder and flash of lightening won't let me relax. Dennis thinks I'm silly- but it's just what I do. I can't help it. You never know how long a storm will last or how severe it might be and I want to be prepared. I also don't want the kids to be scared, I want them to feel safe and secure no matter how freaked out I am.

It's strange to me how the times before and after storms can be some of the most beautiful. It's almost unfair to envelope something so frightening between such peace and calm. Beforehand, there's a perfect stillness and clouds are colorful and alive. Eerie light seems to creep over the hills and swallow the landscape. Afterwards, the sun shines brightly-- sometimes illuminating a yard filled with branches and debris which means lots of time will be spent cleaning up. And from time to time, the devastation is so severe that permanent scars remain. Most of the time, though, the light just sparkles like diamonds off shiny, rain-drenched vegetation and the smell of wet earth fills the air. Whatever the outcome, I am always filled with relief and glad another storm has passed.

Today was the end of another "life storm" for me. Our calm had been rudely interrupted by a vicious storm, then it ended as suddenly as it had begun. This afternoon I spoke with the surgeon who performed Tyler's bone biopsy. He said the results were benign, and Tyler likely has just a stress fracture that may have been caused by a small, benign tumor. He wasn't able to elaborate, but we will talk more about it when we see him next week. None the less, he's going to be just fine! Praise God! There are no storms to keep me awake tonight. He's going to be fine-- just fine!!

...Funny thing, I had kept Ty pretty much in the dark about the worries we had. It wasn't until the other day I shared with him how scared I had been. I gently explained "what could have been" and all he really said was "Oh. Why didn't you tell me that, I didn't know it could have been THAT bad!" So I guess I succeeded at keeping him safe and secure in that storm. I am so thankful for all the wonderful people who have been praying for him. I believe that prayer is powerful-- and there is no doubt in my mind that it made a difference here. We all made it through-- the earth is fresh and the flowers glistening! There's defintitely some debris to clean up, but nothing I can't handle. Tomorrow I'll get to work on that... tonight I'm going to sleep!

Kids are amazing. So resilient. I was reminded of that several times yesterday. While I sat at the baseball jamboree and got sun burnt- Brett played on in his black uniform, he had to be hot, but he was all business the entire time. He didn't care about the heat, he was resilient and did a darn good job! On Thursday, Kacy received new braces for this feet. They are hopefully going to straighten out his ankles and improve his "gait." This is his second set and as before, breaking them in is the hard part. When we take them off, there are red marks on his feet where the most pressure has been applied. It has to be painful! But he, like his brothers, is resilient. He doesn't complain and they don't slow him down. Tyler is one of those kids who doesn't let the dust settle so his leg injury has been not only physically painful but emotionally difficult to deal with as well. Yesterday, when he unwrapped his leg to shower, he nearly fainted when he saw his four-inch incision. It took about a half hour for his color to return to normal. Throughout the day, he'd peek at it. The "shock" had warn off and he was intrigued by what he saw under the wrap. He has grown used to his crutches and can go just about anywhere now and at a rapid pace! He's resilient, also. I am so envious of all of them...what happens to that resiliency as we grow older?

I was on iTunes yesterday and found one of the the songs you should hear playing in the background. It's a duet by Brad Paisley and Sara Evans called "New Again." Brad Paisley sings his lyrics from Jesus' perspective and Sara Evan sings from Mary's perspecitve. It's beautiful and got me thinking about Mary. It is so difficult to see my children suffer with even a headache. I simply can't imagine how she must have felt watching her son be persucuted and nailed to a cross. The ache in her heart, through her whole body must have been suffocating at best. She had to have an amaing faith, I cannot even begin to comprehend her grief, her pain, her sorrow. But she got through it. Her faith brought her through it. She was resilient!!

I wanted to include the lyrics... I found them online and have printed them for myself to keep in my day planner. Thought I'd include them here, too. I also found a YouTube video that someone made using clips from "The Passion..." movie. I'm going to try and "embed" it on this blog. It brought the tears this morning, for I'm finding myself in an "exhausted mom" state. While it made me cry, it also brought me hope. A reminder of the sacrifice that was made for our salvation. I need to remind myself sometimes that I am only a visitor here, just passing through. Each day is a gift and I love my family and I love my life-- but there is a better one ahead. I just need to be resilient.

Mother - do not cry for me

All of this is exactly how it's supposed to be

I'm right here. Can you hear my voice?

My life, my love, my Lord....my baby boy

As they nail me to this tree

Just know my Father waits for me

God how can this be your will?

To have your son and my son killed?

Whatever happens...whatever you see...

Whatever your eyes tell you has become of me

This is not...Not the end...

I am making all things new again

I remember when you were born

In that manger where I first held you in my arms

So many miracles and lives you've changed

And this world repays you how?

With all this pain

Whatever happens...whatever you see...

Whatever your eyes tell you has become of me

This is not...Not the end...

I am making all things new again.

Recovery.

The surgeon's autograph!

He's almost outgrown the couch!!!

Today I got to stay home from work and tend to Tyler. He's on a strict schedule of hydrocodone and Motrin to stay on top of the pain. From time to time he cries out in pain, it's intense-- he starts to sweat and cry. It seems to last 5-10 minutes, then it's gone. Strange. I'm glad it's short-lived and there seems to be longer stretches of time between the "attacks." Hoping for a restful night! Tomorrow he can shower which will be welcome--
notice his "Big Bird" leg??

"God didn't promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, sun without rain, but He did promise strength for the day, comfort for the tears and light for the way."

(author unknown)

We drove to Spokane this morning in sheets of rain. It was dreary and cold, mimicing how we were all feeling inside. We arrived at the hospital surgery center, signed more papers, got Ty weighed and measured again-- still 5'2" and 117#, and then he learned he got to wear a nice, faded blue gown that tied down the back. This did NOT thrill the boy-- he shot us all some attitude which was quickly squashed and into the gown he went. His mood improved when he was settled into a bed, covered with a warm blanket, and given the remote to control the tv--did you know "Sport Center" is on at 6:30 in the morning? For an hour, we answered repeated questions, asked a few ourselves, and wathced fleeting moments of ESPN. Soon it was time for him to go, we said our good lucks and love yous... and he was wheeled away--all of us wincing back tears.

The expected thirty minute procedure ended up being ninety. During those moments in the waiting room, Dennis and I experienced an array of emotion. As surgeons would come out to visit with other waiting parents, we heard good reports about successful tear duct surgery, ear tubes (Kacy has done that twice), and strabismus surgery (aligning the eyes, Kacy's done that one twice, too). We would have given anything to be one of those parents. I'm not disregarding their worry-- I've been there and it is never, ever easy to say goodbye to your child and leave them in the hands of strangers. But this time, waiting felt different. Our anxiety level was sky high--all we could think about was the fact that it was taking so long. It was difficult not to assume the worst. We were worried the doctor had found something in there that he had to remove immediately, and that is what was taking longer. Our fears increased when it wasn't the doctor that came to get us from the waiting room, but a nurse. We were certain this was a bad sign... thinking there must be something we need to be told that can't be said in front of a room full of anxious parents. Fortunately, when we saw Tyler, his color was good and he seemed to be coming out of the anesthesia just fine. When the doctor did speak with us, it was tears of relief that were shed. He said he felt optimistic that Tyler has a stress fracture. The reason the procedure took so much longer than anticipated was due to the decision to give Tyler a "nerve block" to help with the pain following surgery. Because this "block" will last several hours, we were able to take Tyler home and avoid a stay in the hospital.

It seems to be working out this time! We are overwhelmed with relief but will feel even better when the doctor calls about the results of the biopsies. As we exited the hospital, we all gasped at the surprise of the sunlight outside. After our dark and miserable morning, it was as if God was telling us, "see... I didn't leave you." Once again, we are thankful for those who have been supporting our family through prayer. I can't imagine doing all this without family and friends who keep us focussed on the truth, strong in our faith, and hopeful in His spirit. We are truly, truly blessed!

Good luck wishes....

Over the past 6 years, we have met more doctors and specialists then we can remember the names and faces of. A few stick out in my mind and heart as memorable.

Kacy's first neurologist, Dr. LeFond, was an amazingly brilliant and caring woman who saw us through one of the most difficult times in Kacy's life. She worked tirelessly to find the right "cocktail" of seizure meds to get them under control. She finally did. We were heartbroken when she left Spokane for the East Coast.

Dr. Frostad, who has been practicing pediatric medicine for years and years and years is possibly one of my favorite people. He's a straight shooter, doesn't sugar-coat things, but truly cares about the kids. He's the kind of doctor who will call on the phone to check on his patients, and he talks to me like my dad--he uses a "tough love"approach. He recently had to be "firm" with me about getting Kacy into the Shriner's Hospital for an evaluation. I was suppose to do it a couple years ago, but didn't follow up when I learned we would be waiting 4 months for an appointment. He wasn't happy about that, and he let me know. I'm currently in the process of getting Kacy on their list again. He's right, and I know it. I appreciate the fact that he is pushing me to do the right thing.

Dr. Howlett may be the next doctor that leaves a distinct impression on us. Before meeting him, we were "warned" by one of his co-workers that he is a bad dresser and he's crazy! Eventhough we knew the comment was made to lessen Tyler's anxiety, it didn't actually have that effect initially. Turns out, he is a horrible dresser, but he is great with Tyler. At Tuesday's appointment, they discovered they have a lot in common--specifically hunting and a love for cattle. He's a bow hunter and he gave us a "private tour" of his personal office. It was filled with several trophy mounts from his hunting trips. Lodge pine shelves were filled with hunting photos and wildlife pictures. Tyler thought it was "awesome!" When the doctor got down to the subject at hand, though, his seriousness was hard to misinterpret. So... we're off to Sacred Heart tomorrow morning. His procedure is scheduled to begin at 8:00 AM and should only take a half hour. Because it will be painful, Tyler may need to stay in the hospital overnight for pain control. Once we have the results of the biopsy, we will decide what the next step will be.

Brett and Kacy are at Gramma Phyllis' for the night. They said their good-byes and good-lucks with tear-filled eyes, but they are strong-- no tears actually fell. I had to promise Brett a phone call tomorrow after lunch recess. And Kacy, well, Gramma is taking him to get his new braces for his feet tomorrow, so we'll be anxious to get home and see them on him!

On Monday, I recieved a card from a dear friend. It reads, "When you're stressed out, a nice warm bath usually helps. (inside) I've been in here since last Thursday, how about you?" --I think I'll go run myself a bath!

EXPECTATIONS

Two numbers I never thought I'd have in my 'contacts' list on my cell phone are those of a neurologist and an oncologist. Now I've got them both, one right after another.

Tomorrow, bright and early, we are headed to Spokane with Tyler. He has had a pain in his leg for some time now, and after several x-rays, an MRI, and blood tests, doctors (three of them) cannot say with certainty that his pain is due to a stress fracture. So, we have been refrerred to an orthopedic oncologist who will guide us through another foreign land of terminology and testing. The important thing to remember here is we haven't yet been told to worry--- so we are tyring not to. It's hard, though, because the knot in my stomach and the dull pain behind my right eye are reminders that something serious really could be wrong. My head has to keep reminding my heart that the doctor said it could still be a stress fracture, an infection, or something benign.

I have no idea what to expect. Actually, to some extent, I do. We've been down this "specialist road" several times before, so I've got a general idea... The waiting room of the office will be nice- clean, tidy and well lit. A kind receptionist will check us in and hand me a clipboard filled with forms to complete. I'll sit down and try to remember the dosage of Ty's thyroid medication, his social security number, how old he was when he got his last vaccination, if anyone in his family has a history of seizures, migraines, or thyroid trouble. And so on. There willl likely be one of those water jugs in the corner-- you know the kind, it will say "Culligan" in scripty writing and have a nice little cup holder on the side of it. Ty will help himself to some water, not because he's thirsty but because he likes to see (and hear) the giant air bubble that is belched to the top of the jug when water is dispensed. Beside the fairly comfortable, vinyl-covered chairs, plenty of magazines will be scattered on nice wooden side tables. However, there won't be a single magazine capable of distracting any of us long enough to forget why we're there. When Tyler's name is called, he'll be measured and weighed. We'll then be led back to a tiny little room with smaller, more uncomfortable chairs, no magazines, and no courtesy water. -Only a computer monitor in "sleep mode" that will likely display "PROVIDENCE MEDICAL CENTER," and on the wall will be pictures of the inside of a knee or arm or ankle-- or perhaps the entire body. The posters will be courtesy of a drug company and bear that company's name in the lower right-hand corner. We'll obey the signs asking us to turn off our cell phones. Thirty minutes will seem like sixty, then in comes the man of the hour, the one we have all been waiting for, the doctor. Following the anticipated examination and what will seem like one hundered questions, I have no idea what comes next. This is where my experience stops.

So tonight, while the boys are sleeping soundly, Dennis is tossing and turning-trying to get some sleep since he'll be leaving for work at 4:30 tomorrow morning so he can go with us to the appointment. I find myself sitting in my dark living room, the only light coming from my laptop screen and the sound of the washing machine and dishwasher competing in the background. The clock on the wall is ticking away the minutes that are slowly turning into hours. It's weird because I don't feel tired. I don't feel scared, or anxious, or nervous... just "here." Is this peace? I'm not sure.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will take my son, my first baby, to an orthopedic oncologist. When I shower, dress, and drive to Spokane, I will pray constantly. I will pray like I did for Kacy when he was seizing, and like I did for Brett when he was crying in pain with his abdominal migraines. I will pray for the doctor, for Tyler, for Dennis, for my mom, for our families, for our children. I will pray for strength, health, healing, wisdom, guidance, and understanding. Experience has taught me that I can't do this alone, so I won't even try. I don't know why these trials keep finding us, but all I can do is trust in the lord and lean not on my own understanding. And one more thing, if you find yourself reading this on Tuesday morning, throw a prayer Tyler's way if you wouldn't mind. He's such a great kid-- too young for troubles like these.

HaPpY mOtHeR's DaY!!!

On this day I am reminded that these children God has given me are the greatest gift I could ever receive! I love them all the most-- just the way they are. At times I wonder if God has confused me with someone else who is stronger, thinner, and more cabable of holding it all together, but not today. Today I am going to play in the dirt with them, laugh with them, and eat hot dogs and ice cream cones with them. Today, I will have no worries or concerns about their health or my waistline. Today I will be the kind of mom I want them to remember! Tomorrow, the worries may find their way back in, but not today. Not today!

Spring has Sprung!

(Well, Eric! Here's the blog update you were razzing me about!)

Spring seems to have come with a vengence at the Kincaid household! Once Dennis could get going in the field, he was going, going, gone! The boys and I manage to continue work, chores, sports activities, etc. without him-- but it's always an adjustment for us all! Kacy, as expected, takes it the hardest. Four or five days can pass without him seeing his dad and then, once he finally gets the chance, he completely ignores Dennis as if to punish him for being absent for awhile. The big boys manage to keep Dad current on their lives via cell phone. And, I must admit that I am often too exhausted to stay awake until he returns home. I'll put his plate in the fridge, leave a sticky note on the counter with any important messages that need to be conveyed, and then I'm off to bed. Often, he is gone before I wake in the morning. If it weren't for the dirty clothes that seem to accumulate in front of the washer and the dirty dishes in the sink, I would wonder if he ever came home!