A Cry Baby Emerges

I’m sorry I’ve gone “radio silent” for a while.  I’ve been having a difficult time coping with pain, fatigue, nausea, and a complete loss of appetite that has resulted in frightening my family significantly due to my weight loss.  Who knew that the elusive and yet highly coveted short cut to weight loss is just a little bit of radiation!  I have been trying to do a bit more lately as well.  I’ve started to work full time again.  It’s an interesting thing because I have to stop every couple of hours to nap and recharge.  I also started physical therapy today.  My physical therapist seems very nice and he feels optimistic that we can make some good progress.  Meanwhile my pain doctor is interested in trying botox to paralyze my jaw and neck muscles in the hopes that the very painful spasms in those areas will stop.  Some of my docs are skeptical, but I guess at this point anything is worth a shot.  He also ordered an MRI that I had done yesterday.  We don’t expect to see anything significant with the tumor but I’m curious to find out what is happening with all the liquid that is in every space in my head.  I have a theory that it is responsible for the pain that I feel anytime I’m in a slightly cold (what would seem comfortable to most) environment.  I also saw a maxial facial surgeon yesterday.  He wants to consult with my neurosurgeons and pain doctor to see if a surgery that would release a tendon in my jaw and saw down a bone is worth doing in order to get me to be able to move my temporal mandibular joint some more.  Tomorrow I have to draw some blood to make sure my blood thinners are at the appropriate level and Friday it’s time for the experimental shot again.  Never a dull moment! 

I wrote the following section of a blog a couple of days ago but was unable to finish it.  I have more to say on the subject and I promise to continue in another blog.  For now I just really wanted to update everyone and put something up. 

To describe myself as sensitive lately is an understatement.  I’ve developed this new and highly embarrassing habit of crying at the drop of a hat.  I cry when I’m happy, sad, nervous, frustrated, grateful, feeling loved, etc.  What’s worse is that it seems as this is one more thing I have no control over.  Luckily I have yet to full out lose it in a public arena. Usually only one or a handful of people at most are witness to my tears.  I associate crying with “something’s wrong.”  When I see someone crying, I want to console them.  I also think of myself as having a public persona of someone that is “put together” and cool, calm, and collected.  The inner me is not nearly as put together or as cool, calm, and collected as the outer me.  As I tell my friends, who ask me how it is I always seem so confident, “You just fake it till you make it.”  I’ve been successful because I trust my outer persona.  I believe that she knows what I’m doing even when inside I’m scared and full of doubt.  But how in the world do I cope when my outside persona has now become a ball of emotions that all culminate in the same external response – crying.  I’m not sure of the answer yet because so far what I’ve been doing to cope is (you guessed it) cry!

Updates, Acknowledgements, and A Request For My Tumor

Last week I went to go see my new pain doctor.  What a different experience from Dr. Strange!  He was everything that I hoped he would be and he gave me hope for what lies ahead.  He did tweak some of my medications and gave me some more tools to try and help with pain management.  Most importantly though, he took his time (he spent an hour with me), explained things at length, and he made a follow-up appointment for next week (and told me to please feel free to go in or call him if the need arose).
Unfortunately the very next day I felt frustrated because I was in my usual pain.  My radiation oncologist tells me that on his lab coat it says M.D. not GOD.  He's right.  There are no simple answers for what I'm experiencing.  In fact, it's mostly a guessing game as to what will work because there are so little patients to compare my case to.  But when I see a new doctor, there is so much hope in me that all my pain will disappear.  Of course this is an unrealistic expectation so I experience a letdown.  Well to be honest the day after I saw my new pain doctor I had a little bit of a meltdown.  I was on the phone with Ili crying because I couldn't even eat a small piece of watermelon without experiencing a significant amount of pain in my jaw and throat.  I just keep trying to remind myself to roll with the punches and that this too will pass!

Yesterday, I had my first follow-up visit with my radiation oncologist since my radiation treatment ended.  I call him Dr. Teddy Bear.  He is wonderful!  He's always cracking jokes and making everyone laugh but what really shines through about his personality is his love for his patients.  He doesn't know why I'm feeling all of the pain I'm feeling and he has hope that the new pain doctor will be able to get some answers.  He suggested that we look into ordering another MRI to check and see if the fluid surrounding my tumor has increased.  Perhaps there is a way to drain the fluid and alleviate some of the pressure that I feel when I lie down.  I'm currently dealing with a catch 22.  My body requires a lot of sleep but the sleeping position causes more pain.  Most nights I'm up between 3 and 5am and running to take a hot shower in order to alleviate some of my pain.  I usually get at least 1 or 2 nights a week when I get a full night's sleep (like last night) and I'm always extremely grateful for those!  Dr. Teddy Bear hypothesizes that the heat of the shower may help bring down the inflammation that is currently occurring due to the radiation effects.  Whatever it is, the hot showers work.  I joke that I'm the cleanest girl in America because I take 3 - 5 showers daily.  In addition, my professor/mentor (we'll nickname him Dr. Mentor) has taught me some excellent new breathing techniques that relax and sooth me as well as give me a little extra energy.  I don't have nearly as much energy as I'm used to so any extra bit of energy comes in extremely handy.  I also listen to an audio track he made for me to help with pain management.  It is a wonderful tool in my pain management box!  Between the narcotics, breathing, showers, audio tracks, and the excellent support system I have you would think that I'd be pain free.  Unfortunately I'm not.  The truth is I get frustrated quite often but at the same time I'm ever so grateful for the support system and the wonderful team of doctors that are always searching for answers even when they keep coming up with more questions. 

Oh tumor of mine, I have always considered myself a pretty patient person, but you are teaching me lessons in patience beyond what I thought were possible.  In addition there’s the overwhelming gratitude you have filled my life with.  My family and friends; Dr. Teddy Bear – which looked at me with watery eyes yesterday and told me, “Please take care of yourself, I worry about you;” Dr. Mentor, who checks in with me, teaches me new relaxation and pain management techniques, and has gone above and beyond for me during this whole process; Dr. neuro otologist who tells us to call his cell phone anytime we need to; Dr. Endocrinologist who is trying an experimental treatment on me and responds to my emails (with 10 questions) minutes after I email him; friends of a friend that pray for me weekly and met last week and prayed over me in such a special and moving way, friends of my parents and of m friends who are constantly telling my friends and family that they are thinking of me and praying for me.  I would not have been privy to this kind of awareness of the love that exists in my community and extended community without you tumor.  I can’t thank you enough for all of this!  But please please please know that you have done your job, the gifts you have given are not lost on me.  It’s now time to stop swelling and to start shrinking.  Thank you in advance for listening to my request my stubborn (I mean wonderful) tumor! 

A Disaster of A Doctor's Appointment

Earlier this week I had an appointment with a pain specialist.  I'm still having a difficult time controlling my pain so I had a great deal of hope that this doctor would be able to help me.  What happened during the appointment left my family and I almost speechless.  In fact, we (my mother, father, Nate and I) left there happy and smiling.  The next morning, after we had time to process what had transpired, we realized that the appointment was not only a disaster, it trumped the appointment with Dr. No Bedside Manner (an earlier blog I wrote in January).

The appointment was scheduled for 2:30 in the afternoon.  We arrived at 2pm (as instructed) and were told that the doctor was running about an hour behind.  We smiled and told the nurse that it was no problem and we were happy to wait.  After all, we have been to enough doctors to know that a little bit of a wait is just part of the process.  Three hours later my parents are starting to get anxious that we are still in the waiting room.  After four hours, they call me to have my blood pressure taken.  There was a patient who had been waiting for a long time as well to see the same doctor and he became agitated to the point where the doctor came out to speak with him.  This was my first glimpse of 'Dr. Strange' (my new nickname for him).  From where I was sitting I could see the interaction between the patient and the doctor perfectly.  The patient is explaining that he is a diabetic and he needs a certain shot and he's been waiting for hours already.  Dr. Strange offers to move him into another waiting area and informs him that he has other patients waiting and if moving to another waiting area doesn't suit him, he can come back another day.  The response from the doctor was far from apologetic, it wasn't even empathetic.  But what was particularly bothersome was the smile that Dr. Strange had on his face.  It was a wide, teeth showing kind of smile; completely incongruent with the situation at hand.  To say it was inappropriate is an understatement.  I say to myself, "He's a little weird, but if he's a good doctor that takes away my pain, I'll wait the 4 hours and put up with the odd smile any day."

Next, my parents and I move into a room and we are seen by the physician that is the fellow working with Dr. Strange.  A fellow is a doctor that is specializing in a particular field of medicine.  Dr. Fellow was great.  He listened carefully, grasped everything that we said, made some great suggestions, and looked at the tumor inside my ear.  He happened to know my mentor and asked how I knew him. I told him that I was a student of his in the doctoral program at CAU.

About 20 minutes later Dr. Fellow and Dr. Strange both enter the room.  Dr. Strange still has the creepy smile on his face.  Dr. Strange greets everyone in the room  and then he says to me, "So you're a psychologist."  I tell him no, I'm a psychology student.  I realize that he either spoke very little to Dr. Fellow, or he just doesn't listen when people speak.  Throughout the visit he kept referring to me as a psychologist.  I conclude that he's just not a very good listener.  At one point my dad and I say something about psychologists and insurance and I say how that's a double edge sword.  Dr. Strange responds by saying, "Yeah, every time I see a psychologist I pay them in cash; try to help the poor guys out a little bit."  I had no idea what he was trying to communicate so I said nothing.  But looking back I speculate that he might have been saying he views psychologists as charity cases?? Seriously!? (Side note to mentor - I can't believe I forgot to tell you that one!!)

He starts the consult by asking what happened, what medications I'm taking, what's happened since radiation etc.  He then asks how many Percocet I'm taking and I tell him that it depends on my patch day.  By the third day of the patch I'm taking 1 percocet every 2 hours.  He askes, "How many is that?"  I tell him, "Well, it's not really exactly like that because at night I don't take 1 every two hours."  Meanwhile he is interrupting me asking how many is that over and over again.  Everyone stays quiet for a second - we're all confused that he can't do the simple math.  I then say 12 but really it works out to about 9.  He concludes that I'm taking too much Tylenol.  When I tell him that while I was hospitalized I was taking 2 Percocet every 4 hours (I'm trying to communicate that none of the doctors had a problem with the amount of Tylenol I was taking), he asks, "How many is that?"  After skipping a perplexed beat, I say, "The same amount."  He responds by changing the subject and says, "Maybe we should give you a dose of 50mg for the patch." About a minute before this statement I had explained to him that my oncologist told me to try two 25mg patches if one didn't give me full pain relief.  I overdosed on the two patches.  Clearly simple math is not Dr. Strange's forte.  My dad reminds the doctor that I overdosed on the 50.  Dr. Strange (perhaps slightly embarrassed, but still smiling freakishly) says, "Well we want to keep doing what is working." Someone should tell Dr. Strange that patients see him because whatever they are doing is NOT working!  So he then suggests switching the patch to every other day instead of every third day and switching the Percocet to 1 every 4 hours (a lower dose of Percocet than I've been on for a very long time).  Before I could digest the information, he asks, "What does the tumor look like?"  I tell him that it is the largest my physicians have ever seen for the type of tumor they believe it to be and it's amorphous in shape.  He then says, "Is it like a golf ball?"  Everyone in the room stays quiet for a couple of seconds.  Most people do not come up with the image of a golf ball when you say large and amorphous.  I respond with a description of how it goes from the base of my skill to my eye balls without actually reaching my eyes, down my neck, and out through my ear.  Dr. Strange then goes on to explain how there is not a particular pill for a large and a-typical glomus tumor.  We all just stare at the doctor wondering if he's trying to make a joke.  He continues to say that he's going to start me on a medication specifically for nerve pain.  Dr. Fellow has already explained that this medication does not work like Percocet or other medications designed for acute pain.  It needs to be monitored and titrated for the patient.  Dr. Strange doesn't mention anything about titrating the dosage.  Next the doctor wants to look in my ear to see the tumor.  I notice that he doesn’t place the sterile cap on the equipment.  He takes a look without actually placing the device in my ear.  I know that the tumor is deep and there is no way to see it without actually placing the device into my ear.  Dr. Strange says nothing about the tumor but he asks if anyone has tried to remove the wax (which is all he saw).  I tell him no, that we have seen several ENT specialists and they have all insisted that we not touch anything inside of the ear – BECAUSE THERE’S A TUMOR (with a large blood supply) IN THERE!  While Dr. Strange is pretending that he saw the tumor and digesting that his patient just stated the obvious, I ask him when he thinks I will be able to return to my "normal life."  The medications make me drowsy and my mind is not as sharp as it normally is.  He completely dismisses my question and tells me that he doesn't even tell patients that they can't drive on Percocet.  He states that these medications don't have any effect on cognition.  As someone who is experiencing the effects of these medications, I can assure you that the medications affect my cognition.  I can tell that pursuing this course of conversation is not going to get me anywhere with Dr. Strange so I drop it.  He then prints the prescriptions and shakes everyone’s hands goodbye.  As he's doing this he says, "It's always nice to have someone with you when you come, but maybe not all these people."  My father then notices that he's wearing a little girl's picture on his lab coat and asks if it is his daughter.  He says, "Yes, do you have any more children?"  My father responds, "I have 5, this is my oldest."  Dr. Strange then says, "Damn Catholics!"  His response was so out of left field that we all laughed.  But looking back it was highly inappropriate.  Then, I ask the doctor, "When do I see you again? Do I need to make an appointment."  His response was, "Well, don't be a stranger."  We left there without a follow-up appointment.

The next day I had individual conversations with my parents and Nate asking them what they thought of the appointment.  Everyone agreed that it was a disaster.  Dr. Strange was beyond odd.  We had a good laugh reminiscing about the crazy things that had come out of this guy's mouth and his inability to do simple math.  We wondered why we had left there happy and smiling and concluded that it was just so shocking and we had been worn down after 4 hours of waiting.

I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't consider that Dr. Strange may have just been having a particularly hard day and while most doctors would have canceled their patients for the day, he was considerate enough to keep his appointments.  I don't know what the events of Dr. Strange's day were that led up to my experience at that appointment.  I wish Dr. Strange the very best and hold nothing against him.  But the bottom line is that I simply can't trust Dr. Strange with the one aspect of my condition that largely controls my current quality of life.  The day after I saw Dr. Strange I made an appointment with another pain specialist.  I am seeing him this Wednesday.  Fingers crossed that the consult goes much better! 

I thank Dr. Strange for providing me with a good story to tell and I thank my parent’s and Nate for being there with me as my witnesses.  Otherwise I don’t think anyone would believe this craziness!

"Hi, I Have A Brain Tumor" - In Action

This happened a while back but it's too good not to share, and ironically it ties in perfectly to the blog I wrote previously titled, "Hello, I Have A Brain Tumor."
While I was still having my radiation treatment, Ili and I went to have lunch together after my treatment.  As usual I start to feel nauseous after we eat.  By the time we reach my building I'm not feeling so great.  Instead of pulling over on the side that corresponded to her, Ili pulled up to my building and was facing oncoming traffic.  Really this is no big deal since I live on a street that receives very little traffic.  But it just happens to be that a car - a 7 series BMW to be precise, comes heading down the road and the gentleman inside (mid 30s pretty handsome looking) became visibly upset that we were on the wrong side of the street.  He stopped his car so that he could say something (which we could not hear of course) and make hand gestures (not obscene - just venting his upset) at us.  I tell Ili that I'm going to go speak with him.  So I get out of the car and head over to his window.  He looked very annoyed and frustrated.  Meanwhile the street is empty; he could have easily gone around Ili's car and headed on his merry way.  Clearly the poor guy was just having 'one of those days.'  As I am standing at his window he moves the car a tiny bit.  I thought that he was going to drive away and leave me standing there.  But then he looked at me (I was very calm and smiling) and then he decided to pull down his window.  As he is telling me that some people thing they own the road I say to him that I'm only here to try to make him feel a little better about the situation.  I then say to him,

"The reason that she is pulled over onto the wrong side of the road is because I don't feel well and I live in this building here. I don't feel well because I have a huge tumor in my head and neck and I just came from my radiation treatment.  Also, I'm not supposed to be in the sun, so her being on this side makes the walk in the sun a little shorter for me.  I know that you didn't know any of this.  But we never really know what's going on with other people.  I wrote a blog about this actually.  I know some people think they own the road, but that's not what's happening here, and that lady isn't one of those people.  I really hope you feel better about all of this now."

The guy only skipped one beat.  Instantly his face and his whole demeanor changed.  He grabbed my hand and held it and then kissed it.  He then looked at me and said, "I'm so sorry.  I can see I was completely wrong.  I know that you are going to be ok and I will be praying for you."  He smiled and then drove away waving at Ili.
This whole experience has really opened my eyes to how little we know about what is going on with other people and how important compassion, patience, and understanding are.  We don't wear signs on our foreheads stating our current circumstances.  In actuality it is very few people who 'think they own the road.'  We're only human, trying to get by and be happy and trying to make sure those we care about get by and are happy as well.  I know it's easier said than done to be patient and compassionate with others - because we have things to do and places to be as well.  I'm somewhat of a perfectionist.  I like things done exactly the way that they should be done; I can't stand being late; I've lost my temper over ridiculous things just because something wasn't up to my standards.  But this tumor is teaching me many lessons.  Undoubtedly one of the biggest lessons is to consider that I have no clue about what others are facing and that my 'standards' may be completely insignificant in comparison. 
Thank you tumor for the lesson in humility.

My First (And Hopefully Last) Overdose

It's been quite a week.  Pain management has been an interesting and at times frightening process.  On Tuesday night I changed my patch and put on two fentanyl patches (opioid patches used for pain control) instead of the one.  My doctor had told me if the pain did not go away with one I could try two.  I slept just fine through the night but the next day I couldn't wake up at all.  I was beyond fatigued; even opening my eyes seemed like a difficult task.  Around 2:30 in the afternoon I finally wake up because I need to go to the bathroom.  I felt funny but figured it would be ok once I went and did my thing and got back in bed.  Well, the trek to the bathroom (less than a hop, skip, and a jump) proved challenging.  Once there, the room started spinning, my hands were numb, I was sweating and quite frankly I started to panic.  I knew what was coming; any second I was going to start throwing up.  I know for some people throwing up is no big deal.  For me, it's a very scarry and unnatural ordeal.  I start crying and shaking and I literally turn into a five year old that can't even think for herself.  After a way too disgusting nightmare to describe, I managed to find my phone and call Nate.  He hears a frantic crying voice saying, "Please come home now.  Can you come home?"  While he's trying to figure out what's going on, I've already hung up and am dialing my mom.  She tells me she can leave right away but she called Nate first since he was so much closer than she was.  She called me back to tell me he was already on his way.  I stayed on the phone with my mom until Nate arrived.  I managed to calm myself down a bit and explained to Nate what had happened.  Unfortunately some of it needed no explanation since the evidence of what had transpired was still in our bathroom.  As he's cleaning up I'm worried because I can't get the room to stop spinning or my hands to stop tingling.  Nate brings me a little pack of Jello and before I could get through half of it, it was coming out.  Luckily I made it back to the bathroom to make more of a mess for poor Nate.  As he's holding my hair back and rubbing my back, I'm thinking, "This guy must really love me."  After this second go around it dawns on me that the doctor had warned me this could happen and I removed one of the patches.  Meanwhile Nate was calling the doctor to find out what we should do.  It takes a while to get him on the phone so I end up removing both patches.  By that point I would have removed my skin if you told me that would make me feel better.  The doctor instructed us to put one patch back on and that two patches was obviously too much for me but that I would start feeling better within 24 hours.  I waited about 4 hours before I put a patch back on because I would have taken large amounts of pain over what I had felt during the overdose.
Without exaggeration, this was one of the most frightening things that I think I've ever been through during all of this.  Luckily I've been able to manage the pain better this second half of the week but I still have pain - even with the patch and the Percocet.  I am beginning to think that being pain free may not be realistic during this time.  My doctor however, doesn't seem convinced.  He believes that I should see a neurologist and find out what is going on and that perhaps they could find a way to make me much more comfortable.  I plan to make an appointment with a neurologist as soon as possible.  In the meantime I’m hanging  just trying to hang in there and I’m hoping that this phase will end very soon. 
Please keep the prayers coming.  I know God is listening and I have an abundance of faith that this will time will soon pass.

Pain, Drugs, and Frustration

Last week I called my doctor to tell him that my pain had increased quite a bit.  I thought that increased pain was to be expected since my tumor continues to swell after the radiation.  I wasn't worried until my doctor informed me that increased pain was not supposed to be part of the package.  Luckily I've gotten used to hearing that my tumor doesn't behave in "expected ways."  Apparently I have a rebel tumor.
After increasing my pain meds to the maximum dose possible and spending two nights in more pain than I have experience so far, I was right back at my doctor's office.  He prescribed an opiod patch that delivers a constant dose of pain medication transdermally.  In addition I was told to continue to take my oral pain meds as needed.
I was eager to try my new patch - my pain savior.  I did sleep much better that night with my patch on but the following day I was completely drugged.  I could hardly keep my eyes open and I ended up sleeping through most of the day.  That didn't bother me too much given that it's happened several times due to the fatigue that the radiation causes.  What did bother me, what frustrated me beyond belief was that I still had pain.  I have pain in my head, face, my jaw, my neck, my teeth, etc.  How could I feel so drugged (a feeling like if you're on slow motion and not in full control of yourself) and still have pain?  The only thing left for me to try is two patches - which the doctor warned me I might have to do.  I worry that I might not wake up for two days but it's worth a shot if I can be pain free for a while.
Overall I'm just very frustrated these days.  Poor Nate is almost just as frustrated as I am.  Men are "fixers."  He sees me holding my face or my head and he just wants to make it go away.  Tomorrow, my patch change day, I'll try seeing if two patches leaves me pain free or at least with a lot less pain. 
There is one pain remedy that seems to make things somewhat better.  Saturday Ili picked me up in the afternoon and we went to the mall and later that night I spent time with friends celebrating one of my closest friend's birthdays.  When I'm distracted I still feel the pain but I'm not as focused on it.  I guess you could say that I can tune it out a bit more easily. 
Thank you Ili and friends for making my pain a little better on Saturday!
This is all I’ve got for today.  I know it’s a bit of a different blog that I usually write.  I feel like I’m just venting and not being my usual positive self.  She’ll come back – I promise.  I’m still me, but I’m hurting and frustrated and more than anything I wanted to update the blog.  I’m sorry it’s taken me a week to update.  I’ve received some concerned emails and phone calls and just wanted to let everyone know that I’m ok.  I’m hanging in here and just doing my best to roll with the punches.

A BIG Wedding Announcement

Nate and I have decided to change our wedding date from August 14, 2011 to December 11, 2011.  The reason for the change is that I have been placed on a blood thinner due to the blood clot I have.  Although many people are on blood thinners and they are just fine, the medication does warrant being extra careful.  'Careful' is not exactly what this bride wants to be for her wedding weekend.  I would like to enjoy the sunshine (something I should not do at all at the moment), ride wave runners in the Bahamas (not a problem unless I happen to fall the wrong way), have a champagne toast (not an option to have any alcohol while on blood thinners), etc..  By December the hope is that I will be off the blood thinning medication and that I'll be on my way to (or even better - already attained) full recovery. 

The irony of all of this is that Nate and I wanted to get married in the winter originally.  We thought that we would be getting married this winter but we learned that my sister was expecting her baby girl December 1st.  So we moved the date to April of this year but then we learned that babies less than 6 months of age are not allowed to go on cruise ships.  Since our wedding is a weekend cruise wedding, we moved the date once again to August.  My sister of course offered to fly in to the Bahamas for the wedding but this is a weekend affair.  Having a wedding without one of my sisters (both of which are the maids of honor) is just not an option for me. 

I had always said that the only time of year I did not want to get married was summer; the heat, humidity, and bad hair days just don't make for a beautiful bride.  But Nate and I wanted to get the show on the road, not only because we love each other and want to proclaim that love in front of all our friends and family, but because we are ready to start a family.  When we found out about the tumor and that the treatment course was radiation, we also learned that we would have to wait at least a year after radiation before we could start trying to have a baby.  So with that being said and with the additional complication of the blood clot we figure we've been waiting this long to have our weekend wedding, why not postpone it a bit and assure ourselves a wonderful weekend with our friends and family.

OK so having said all of this, we would also like to invite everyone who would like to attend our weekend cruise wedding to join us.  We are sailing aboard Royal Caribbean’s MS Majesty of the Seas.  For more information, including prices and how to book please visit our website: http://www.theknot.com/ourwedding/NathanNeal&MariaArtime
We have not sent out any invitations.  We will make some new save the date cards but what we really want is for everyone to know that you're invited!  Even if you don't know us personally but you've been following the blog and have been a part of this journey with us, it would be our honor if you celebrated this very special weekend with us.  Just let me, Nate, or my parents know that you are interested in attending and how many people you will be traveling with (kids are more than welcome) so we can include you in all the festivities for the weekend. 

I know that to date there are about 80 people who have already reserved their cruise.  Your reservation has already been moved to December.  If for some reason you can't make it because of the new date, please call the travel agency and let them know.  Some super good news is that you can expect to save about $100.00 per person.  Please see the website for the new prices and the payment deadlines (which have of course changed as well).

Nate and I are very excited about the new wedding date - and that it's no longer in the middle of hurricane season!  The wedding itself will be in a church in Nassau and the reception will be back on the ship.  We are so looking forward to this weekend and to sharing it with our friends and family!  We have felt so loved and blessed by the entire community during this time that it would be our honor if you joined us to celebrate the start of our journey as husband and wife.  We truly hope you’ll be able to sail away with us for the weekend!