The Quiet Season

I haven’t felt like writing lately. Sometimes it’s hard to carve out the time (and emotional space) to intentionally confront grief and reflect on what’s happening. But our phones have been pinging with check-ins and it feels like we’re overdue for an update.

For those who follow us on Facebook, you know our holidays were not ideal. Our nieces and nephews were down with Influenza B, so Christmas and New Year’s were abnormally quiet. Admittedly, there have been many years where I'm so exhausted that I’ve dreamed of a quiet holiday like this one but I wouldn’t choose this version of it. Kara was relaxed and still happy it was Christmas but deep down my heart ached for her and the family time she was missing.

The week of Christmas, we started a new oral chemo. There was a small mix-up with the pharmacy delivery, so we had it delivered to my office at the Chamber. It was a strange, heavy moment being handed this small packet in the space where I originally received the horrible news or her cancer. My mind uncontrollably wandered over what these drugs might do to her little body. When I pulled up to her house, the pills felt like they weighed 50 pounds in my hand as I carried them through the front door. It was such a strange sensation.

The chemo cycle is seven days on, seven days off, three pills, twice a day, with food. We made it through the first cycle with limited side effects. The main things we’re watching for are mouth sores and something called hand-foot syndrome, which can cause painful peeling of the skin on the hands and feet. So lotion and Aquaphor are applied three times daily as a preventative measure. We are beyond grateful to have her homecare nurse coming twice a week to help keep her hydrated, along with Zofran to manage nausea.

Her appetite continues to shift. After months of wanting hashbrowns and a Big Buddy from Kwik Star every morning, she’s lost interest in that. I have dozens of voice notes from her before 7am saying, I'm awake and ready for my hashbrowns. I would jump the minute I received the message to deliver the goods.

Mom has been making hashbrowns mixed with scrambled eggs, which Kara will eat and I'm grateful she's getting protein. While she still has an appetite, her portions are much smaller and she eats very slowly. I’ve noticed her chewing bites for what feels like an eternity so I’ve been game-planning menus with softer foods. After a short holiday break, the chicken lasagna recipe is still reigning supreme. This Sunday I’m planning to switch it up with a mushroom risotto and small pieces of chicken, I’m hoping the texture will be a win.

On Christmas Day, I noticed some bumps appearing on her chest and took a photo to track them. The following week we showed them to a nurse practitioner at her oncologist’s office. She didn’t feel it was presenting as skin mets, which can be a possibility with this type of cancer. She suggested trying topical Benadryl or cortisone. After a few days of cortisone, the rash seemed to get worse, so we’re heading to her dermatologist in Iowa City on Monday to get clarity.

Kara doesn’t have much energy right now. Getting out of bed, sitting in her recliner and walking to the bathroom are exhausting tasks. But I’m remembering to be grateful that we’re moving at all. It's hard to keep her mentally stimulated while we've been mostly homebound. I'm so grateful for the facetime calls, visits and messages with our circle. The time people make for those check-ins are more meaningful than anyone could possibly know.

Roger ordered a ramp to help make getting into the house easier, we haven’t tested it yet. She really resists movement, which has been our biggest challenge lately. After nearly a month of being mostly sedentary, she’s lost a lot of muscle tone and it's hard to know if it's the cancer or weakness driving her reluctance to move around.

She’s currently in the middle of her “on” week of chemo, which wraps up Monday at dinnertime before moving into an off week.

The agenda for this week also includes an echocardiogram, a palliative care telehealth visit, a follow-up with her oncologist, bloodwork and two days of fluids at home. Somehow, she seems excited about having a packed schedule. I’m just praying her energy holds up for all of it.

Those are the main updates. On top of everything else, Dad has been quarantined upstairs all week with a cold. I’ve had to be at work more with Icestravaganza happening next weekend and Mom has been caretaking on her own quite a bit. It’s taken a toll on her and on all of us. It often feels like there simply aren’t enough hours in the day to create any sense of stability.

We don’t know what tomorrow holds but I am trusting God with each step and remain grateful for the light that keeps finding its way in.

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If You're New Here

Hi, I’m Alisha, Kara’s sister and biggest advocate. Kara was diagnosed with Stage 4 Triple-Negative Invasive Ductal Carcinoma (TNBC) in December 2024. Her cancer spread to her bones, liver and other areas, making this an incredibly difficult and uncertain journey.

Despite it all, Kara’s light still shines so brightly. She’s full of love, giggles and endless positivity. This blog is where I share updates on her fight, the highs and lows and the incredible community rallying around her.

Thank you for being here, for your love, support and prayers. We need them more than ever. 💛 And of course, Go Hawks!

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