husband.

I had the honor of being a part of two weddings this past weekend. As I was getting ready, doing my make up and chatting with the other members of the bridal party, I was collecting memories of my own wedding day. Hearing the vows said by each couple reminded me of my own promises I made to Josh on December 2, 2017. It’s amazing that we have now been married for a year and 4 months! Time has flown by, and we have experienced some new things that all newlyweds go through: we have moved twice, adopted a dog, had some tiffs over the small stuff, endured the process of job searching and being excited over starting a new job. We have also experienced some things that some couples don’t experience until decades of being in marriage: making treatment decisions, hearing not great news over scans, traveling for clinical trials. I realized that though he is my sweet, quiet man, it doesn’t mean I have to be quiet about him on this blog. I mention him often in the background of my life, but he’s my teammate through it all. He deserves a bit of a shout out now and then.

I also think of us as a team because of Josh’s wedding vows. Early on in marriage, Josh had to consistently remind me that he is always on my side, that we are on the same team. I have learned that by having this mindset, I give Josh the benefit of the doubt, that I give him grace, the same grace that God freely gives us. Even though he doesn’t need to “work ” for this grace I give him, he has proven time and time again that he is always there for me, always loyal, will fight for me on my behalf for everything. He is my fierce protector and would do anything to take away the pain and cancer for me.

And Josh shows me grace all of the time. For a quiet, behind-the-scenes kinda guy, he always patiently listens to me no matter the topic of conversation, from our sweet Wylie pup to what errands we need to run. He’s always willing to be in the hospital with me, from scans to waiting on chemotherapy to arrive to spending the night in the most uncomfortable hospital make-shift couch-bed. I knew Josh was loyal, but I didn’t know I could experience such faithfulness from one person. He’s learned how to give me shots at home to flushing out my PICC line at home every night, no matter what hour he gets home from his policing shift. He’s patient with our crazy Wylie boy, luring him back inside with treats and love, and sometimes even chasing him around the backyard.

I’ve seen Josh grow so much as well over this year+. He’s learned how to communicate better his emotions and what he is thinking and stressing over. He’s grown in his confidence in prayer; he requests every day before he heads off to work for us to pray together, knitting us closer together and to our Heavenly Father. Praying with him before work has become something I really value and treasure during our time, and it always changes my own perspective going into the rest of the day. And Josh has grown in his commitment to the Word, reading eagerly every day for his spirit to be fed the words of truth and wisdom to guide through tough times and decisions at work and at home. I really respect and admire his growth and transformation that has come from his consistency in prayer and reading the Word. Not only does Josh’s spiritual growth and maturity benefit from these things, but our relationship as well! Pleading for things from our Dad has really grown us closer and helped us become one as the Word says that we are now “one flesh” (Mark 10:7-9).

So, today I’m here back at the hospital, thinking of the sweet man that dropped me off this morning. We’ve been in this room I’m sure before, waiting together on chemotherapy and drugs. Now we are in a perpetual waiting room called Life, waiting on a new clinical trial that is supposedly coming to Nationwide Children’s soon. And yet, here we are, still waiting. The trial is now currently being investigated in Florida, so now we are looking to go there. Hopefully they are still covering the cost of travel. Please pray that our wait—to either hear back from Children’s or Florida—about getting into this clinical trial. It could be a game changer for my health; I recently went back to a harder trinity of chemotherapy drugs that have worn me out the past couple of weeks. I need a break from these drugs, and undergoing a trial of a drug that my body has never seen before could be huge! Please be praying that we will hear back from them sooner rather than later!

Thank you always for your support, thoughts, prayer and practical service to Josh and I. The Searcy team thanks you immensely!

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Josh and I at his police badge pinning ceremony in January 2019. Our families and I are so proud of all that he has accomplished and how he is serving and protecting
our community!

poetry experiment.

I’ve been thinking of writing poetry again.
Oh, how I have missed it!
And I forgot how much
I missed it.
How do you forget your first writing love?
I think going back to age 13,
before cancer,
will jump-start my creativity.
Not like it’s not there—
I feel the words,
see them like snowflakes
in the snowglobe of my mind
and I am trying to catch them.
Chemo snowglobe mind—
I must shake myself everyday
just to make sure I am still alive and functioning.

I am a dog mom,
mother to a white fur baby toddler,
and a police officer wife.
The Officer longs to fight the crimes
that go on inside of me more than anything.
And maybe that is why
he became a cop—
to try to protect me from the outside world
since he can’t protect me from within
against my very self/cells.
Cancer has crime scenes
marked all over my body—
from bones to lungs to hips—
the evidence is everywhere
and the verdict is guilty.
And although it tries to murder me
with every new relapse, scene, and place
I am escaping by grace.

And maybe this poetry thing
is just what I needed.
A reminder that I’m not just an essayist
but a poet.
My heart sings psalms
as the chemo drugs calm
the overactive cells within me
saying: breathe
and live
and give life to words and others.
Your end has not come.
Do not daydream of funerals or tears
All of those fears are misplaced
because this writing space
creates vision for the future:
hope.

happy new year!

happy new year!

I hope the new year so far as treated you kindly with fresh perspectives, warm surprises, and warm blessings. In my household, the new year has already been eventful: Josh graduated his police academy training and ceremony after ceremony has been celebrated, appreciated and endured. Josh gave me the honor of pinning on his badge, and I held its weight in gold and silver, in awe of all that Josh has persevered to get to this moment. My family and I couldn’t be more proud of him!

In the midst of all the celebrating, I was undergoing and finishing up my last few rounds of radiation. I was recommended to have 10 sessions of radiation to my C5 cervical spine (the area around the back of your neck.) I at first panicked because it was radiation to my C7 cervical spine a couple of years ago resulted in intense shoulder and neck pain for months. It has improved for sure, but still when any medical professional touches my neck, their hands immediately fly into the air as if my shoulders were a hot kettle that burned them. They are always just in shock of how hard my neck and shoulders are; you honestly don’t have to be a medical professional to tell this fact. Today, I still combat this pain with a pain management trio of massage, acupuncture, and medication.

So I write to you now with the 10th radiation treatment completed. It’s tradition to ring the bell after completion of treatment, but this was like my 4th time completing a radiation regiment. Isn’t that bell supposed to signify that I am completely done with radiation, that I will never have to return back here again? In my case, I’ve returned several times. It would almost feel like I’m lying if I rang that bell. It’s not that I’m not hopeful about my health, but when you look back and remember the other 3 bell ringings its hard not to feel conflicted about this bell for me. I don’t want to stain the bell’s brass for other hopeful cancer patients with my unfortunate multiple trips back here.

Now, I thankfully have a little over a week break from all treatment. My body definitely needs a break from radiation and chemotherapy and multiple-day trips to the hospital. Since I’ve had radiation to my neck before, I’m anxiously trying to prepare against the side effects that come afterwards. I follow a yoga YouTube instructor for neck stretches, hoping to prevent pain and the moments providing stress relief as well. I almost always put a neck/shoulder heating pad while I watch tv or read. I massage a salve onto my neck every night before sleeping, praying that I don’t wake up in the middle of the night to have to take any pain medication. I’m trying to be more hydrated in hopes that I can keep my throat and esophagus moist, to relieve any burns that might have occurred on the inside of my throat, drenching the radiation fire with water, Propel, tea, coffee, anything.

I will update again sooner rather than later my friends. Thank you always for reading my updates and faithfully praying for me and asking how I am doing. He is good!