As I attempt to set up yet another fundraiser, I do so with much heaviness. Due to the logistics of Go Fund Me taking over YouCaring, our old campaign was deleted. Crystal and I just assumed it was best and left it alone. It goes without saying that this has been a lonely journey. That does not discredit the abundance of love and support we have received from all of you, our friends and family, and many strangers as well. We are beyond grateful for every contribution towards the eternal welfare of our souls. Our family has been trudging through the mud now for many years, but the last couple have been exceptionally difficult. In fact, prior to this CANCER journey, it had seemed like we were finally on an upward trajectory. I recently looked at photos of the Christmas before we found out. The innocence and naivety were profound as I glanced upon the expressions upon Crystal's face and everyone else in the photos. Nobody knew of the storm that was about to blow in. We would soon find out! As we continue down this road, it seems as though the outcome and the day to day continue to be unpredictable.

Most recently, Crystal had a respiratory arrest here in our home. It was merely through the Grace of God, Gavin and I left church early that day. We came upon Crystal as she took her final, agonal breaths before taking her journey into the next stage of her eternal journey. But God had a different plan. As I lay Gavin in the bed, he intuitively knew something was wrong....."Mommy?", he said with a question in his voice. I immediately checked on her, and noticed the desperation for life in her breaths. I rolled her limp body over and saw the color of death upon her face; one with which I am well acquainted with in the Pediatric ICU. I tried to arouse her, felt for a pulse, and began to perform compressions. The bed was too soft as I tried with all of my might to compress her chest. 911 was on the line, and I had to allow the spirit to guide me as I ignored their recommendations and attempt to check for a pulse again after merely 30 seconds to a minute of chest compressions. I felt a faint pulse. I attempted to open Crystal's airway, but her jaw was clenched shut. As I forced it open, and attempted to blow air into her lungs, I found myself struggling to get air into her limp, purple, dying body. Thoughts racing through my mind.....I repositioned, made several attempts, finally getting air into her lungs, but realizing that I was still ineffective at providing for her needs. She was fighting to live. I did something that really makes no sense, but I considered her breathing efforts upon finding her, and the possibility of an obstructed airway. I performed a jaw thrust, and she began to draw air into her lungs, as though she was breathing through a straw. In spite of her effort and her restricted airway, a pinkish hue returned to her face, and I trusted that God would care for her in the next moments as I stood holding her jaw up to open her airway. EMS arrived and were able to get her stabilized and off to the hospital. 
Crystal spent about a week in the hospital, while she underwent a battery of testing to figure out what went wrong and ensure that she regained full functionality and would return home safely without further incident. The weeks that have followed have been scary and trying. My relatively new employer was not too fond of me needing time off, and I was forced to take personal leave and then find another department to work in because my manager did not believe it was the "right time" for me to work in the PICU out here. Once again, the world showed me that true compassion and understanding are rare. I disclosed too much and trusted too many. But for now, I look forward to get back to work. I fear that Crystal is still not prepared for the tasks which are required of her at home. Crystal continues to battle issues with fluid retention which have primarily been ignored, with no solutions offered to date. Crystal finds herself unable to sleep at night, and if she can, she is up using the bathroom all night because of diuretics that are only working when she lays down. Heart studies prove inconclusive, and doctors have said it is not cardiac related. Her respiratory problems have been tied to the fluid overload and other side effects of chemo/cancer treatment. We have spent the past month and a half going to doctors appointments and trying to get the help Crystal and our family needs. At the moment it appears that we will be left wanting, with many questions unanswered and solutions to problems still not found.
I am grateful for each day I have to spend with my family and help where I can. But this journey has been exhausting. It is hard to press forward some days, and our day to day life is hard to put into words for others to understand. All I know is that we need help. We need every form of help you can think of. Our family cannot keep living in crisis mode. Even as I consider facing the storm head on, I find myself without the strength of means to do so. We are all tired. As we try to turn further towards the Lord within the walls of our home, there are moments of complete peace and joy. But the pressures of the world, and the reality of having a sick mother in the home continues to be a part of our life. I know why its Crystal enduring so much through all of this, and why I have been asked to try and take on so many of these other tasks. Crystal has contributed so much to our family already that she has earned her eternal crown of glory. As for me, I do not know if I will ever measure up to such greatness. As for Crystal, I know it haunts her, to know of who she was, and what she was capable of, and now having the struggles she has which prevent here from doing all or any of her former things. But we are all still here, together. Our children continue to press forward with changes and an unconventional life. We are trusting in the Lord, and praying for the strength to press forward, not only getting through this, but finding beauty and glory along the way. As for now, we will continue to pick through the ashes!