Some news is too big to carry alone. We moved home to be surrounded by the people we love when it matters most. Now seems to be one of those times. Chris has been diagnosed with squamous cell cancer of the tonsil and neck lymph nodes. We’ve been navigating this the last few weeks figuring out next steps, what to expect and when. The good news is that the outlook is positive with chemo and radiation. The hard news is that treatment is extensive with daily radiation for 7 weeks and weekly chemotherapy treatments. Side effects are expected to be not fun. So many of you have asked what you can do, and I’ll be honest — we haven't known what to say. This feels deeply uncomfortable for me. I am so used to being the one who takes care of things, takes care of others. Asking for help doesn't come naturally. But the world has a way of teaching us to be hyper-independent, and we're choosing something different this time. We're turning to our village and allowing ourselves to be supported. So here goes. First, a fun idea: before chemo and radiation affect Chris' taste buds, we'd love to do a little "Farewell to Flavor" celebration over the next few weeks! If you've ever wanted to cook your signature dish for him, bring his favorite meal, or just share a great bite together — now is the time. I need to bulk him up before he’s on soft foods and protein shakes. Reach out if you want to be part of it, just remember I am the worst texter ever! I need a personal assistant but will respond eventually! Second, I've been making Chris an "Open When" box — letters he can reach for on the hard days during treatment. Open when you're exhausted. Open when you're having a bad day. Open when you need a laugh. If you'd like to contribute a letter, we would treasure it so much. Inside could be an encouraging note, a kind word, a little gift card for a treat — anything that might bring him a moment of joy when he needs it most. If you make one, just get it to me and I'll add it to his box. And as treatment gets underway, life keeps moving for our family — kids, pets, work, and a yard that doesn't care what we're going through. Here's where your help would mean the world: • Prayers, good thoughts, and positive energy • Meals or gift cards on hard days • Mowing or yard work (I looked like a fool on the mower!) • Help with laundry or household chores • A simple message reminding us we're not alone • A fun date with our girls — keeping life semi normal for them is just as important to us as getting Chris better. If you'd love to take them out for some fun, say the word! Thank you for being our village. We are so grateful. Be patient with us as we are slow to respond, still managing emotions, battling overwhelm, and trying to navigate soooo many pieces to this puzzle. 💙
Instead of full meals every time, some volunteers could provide extras for the bad days from treatments: Examples: Fresh fruit Applesauce Protein shakes (no chocolate) Crackers Gatorade or electrolyte drinks Liquid IV Ginger ale Easy breakfast foods Soup