Wonder Twin Powers Activate! To form: a Tsunami

(My Dad on Spa Day at the Hospital)

Good Morning Fellow Clotters,

Sorry for the Clot Blackout of late. Once again Mom has given the blog responsibility to the girls. We both apologize in advance for this.

It was all a matter of timing on Tuesday. We received the results of the pathology in the morning and Dr. Mulvihill couldn't discuss those results with the Clot until later in the afternoon. This gave way to other interpretations of the results, and a subsequent Clot meltdown of epic proportions. Mom was a rock, Dad was a rock, Erin and Brodi promptly combined their wonder twin powers to form a giant tsunami of tears that nearly wiped out the entire 5th floor of the Hospital. By the time Dr. Mulvihill came to our room, and informed us that we were still on track, that the results were not unexpected, and our plan of attack had not changed, Erin and Brodi were mere pools of gobby goo on the floor.

So Mom and Dad spent most of Tuesday and all of Wednesday cleaning up the mess Erin and I had left on the floor, and sorting out the pieces of which body part belonged to which girl, and we are back on track.

The pathology did not show as much necrosis (death of cancer cells) as we would have liked. But Dr. Mulvihill reminded us how we started this journey in the top ten percent of people with this disease, and of that 10 percent, many people still don't make it to the Whipple, which is the most important step to a cure. The pathology means that my Dad will most likely get another round of chemo to target any rogue cancer cells that may be touring his body. We're fighting the statistics, but we have been doing that from the beginning. We told Dr. Mulvihill that the Clot really excels when we are given 'underdog' status. (Hello New York Giants, anyone? McCain?)

Tuesday was a little bit of a dark day for us. Around 5:30 p.m., Erin said we should get in touch with the bishop, but none of us had his phone number with us. Immediately, my mom's cell phone rang, and of course it was Bishop O'Leary, who acted on a prompting to call us. Tender Mercy. An hour later, he was in my Dad's hospital room, with reinforcements he had picked up along the way. My Dad received the actual blessing, but the rest of the Clot felt the effects as well. The bishop advised us to put on the "full armor of God." Suffice it to say, the Clot has done just that. Including our brass knuckles.

And now we are ready for the next step in this battle, confident in the knowledge that we have already made it past the hardest part. Talmage Egan, and a few others, gave us a quote from President Hinckley:

"It isn't as bad as you sometimes think it is. It all works out. Don't worry. I say that to myself every morning. It will all work out. Put your trust in God, and move forward with faith and confidence in the future. The Lord will not forsake us. He will not forsake us. If we will put our trust in Him, if we will pray to Him, if we will live worthy of His blessings, He will hear our prayers."
(From the funeral program for Marjorie Pay Hinckley, April 10, 2004)

The Clot learned many valuable lessons this week. Most important, we will never again let the dark cloud of doubt and uncertainty creep in. Let me just say, Mom and Dad never did.

We appreciate the many expressions of love and support continually shown to our family. Please join us in putting on our armor, and gearing up for the fight. We are so ready!

Love to you all,
the Clot