Category: Carrie-Anne (Page 1 of 13)

Cry Eagles Cry

The Cowboys demolished the Eagles at AT&T Stadium Sunday night and I was there to see it all. Our good friends, Stan and Kelly Conley, have season tickets and they graciously drug us along to what may be the defining win for Dallas this season. It was the Cowboys’ first victory over a team that currently has a winning record, it was the first time in years the Philly offense was held without a touchdown, it put the Cowboys into a tie for first place in the NFC East, and it was a blowout. It makes me wonder what organ Mike McCarthy is going to have removed this week.

This was the first Cowboys game for Carrie-Anne at the new stadium — she’s been to two or three college games there — and she gave it everything she had for the full three hours. In fact, when I received a text from a friend asking where I was sitting so he could look for me on TV, I replied, “I’m on the 30-yard-line, behind the Cowboys bench, ten rows up, sitting next to a crazy lady waving a towel.”

For Cowboys fans, there was plenty to be waving towels about. Dallas scored on just about every possession, their outstanding kicker outscored the Philly offense by himself, and the Dallas defense held the Eagles to zero touchdowns. It was the kind of signature win that’s been missing from the Cowboys 2023 portfolio. But this was a no-doubter. From the moment Philadelphia won the coin toss and chose to give the ball to the Cowboys at home, I felt like I was in trouble. That’s a bad call. And the Eagles never recovered.

We had a blast. Our youngest daughter, Carley, drove down from Flower Mound to meet us for a pre-game dinner at Pappasito’s.  We’re next. They kept assuring us we were next. Stan kept us laughing and everyone around us wondering with his off the wall comments. You can’t ask the waitress at Pappasito’s if they sell hot dogs. You can’t ask the ticket taker at the season-ticket holders VIP parking lot if they take cash. You can’t be wearing Cowboys gear and approach three other people in Cowboys gear in the airport the next morning if they went to the game and, when they say “yes,” then ask, “do you know who won?” You can’t. But Stan can.

I giggled at Michael Irvin’s pre-game hype speech on the giant video board. I gave Too Tall Jones a personal standing ovation when he was introduced during the first quarter. I expressed to anyone who would listen my righteous disdain for the Cowboys color-rush all-white uniforms. We all took turns imitating Dak’s “Here we go!” with various levels of success and attention from those near us. I marveled at Brandon Aubrey’s 59 and 60 yard field goals that would have been good from another ten yards out. I shook my head in disgust at the valuable piece of the puzzle Jake Ferguson is becoming. I kept waiting for McCarthy to do something really dumb — he never did. And I realized that my season prediction for this Cowboys team is in some serious jeopardy.

 

 

 

 

 

The only way they finish 10-7 is if they lose all of the last four games of the season. At Buffalo, at Miami, against the Lions at home, and then at Washington. If any team could find a way to lose four straight, it would be the Cowboys, especially with three of them on the road. But I’m losing hope. I needed Dallas to lose Sunday night. And they looked as good as they’ve looked all year against a really good opponent.

If Dallas gets that 11th regular season win in the next four weeks, I’m going to have to buy Danny and Claire Brock dinner at the Wall Street Grill. He keeps texting me the menu, zoomed in on the appetizers.

Peace,

Allan

Last Go ‘Round

One year ago this week, Carrie-Anne and I met with our doctors at M.D. Anderson in Houston for the first time after her breast cancer diagnosis. Now, after 12 months, 16 chemotherapy treatments at the Allison Center here in Midland, eight trips to H-Town, and three surgeries, we’re done. It is finished. Over. Yesterday’s last reconstructive surgery went well and we couldn’t be more thankful. Thankful to God, thankful for our friends and family, thankful for healing and peace, thankful for the good people our Lord has placed in front of us every step of the way.

When we got to Houston Sunday afternoon, we did what we always do: drove immediately to Pappasito’s for dinner. Actually, we go to Pappasito’s if we’re anywhere near one and we’ve been to the one across from NRG Stadium eight times. The Texans had just completed their crazy win over the Cardinals and the place was packed with Texans fans in their Texans gear. It was fun to be in the middle of their celebration, talking about C.J. Stroud, congratulating them on their three-game winning streak. They were so giddy, nobody noticed C-A was wearing her Texas Rangers American League Championship t-shirt.

Well, one person noticed. The lady sitting at the table right behind us was wearing an Astros West Division Championship shirt that featured Alex Bregman’s quote about never knowing what would happen if Houston didn’t win the division. Obviously, these shirts were made and sold before the Rangers beat the Astros in the ALCS and seem a little silly to be wearing now in the aftermath of the Rangers World Series title. A friendly conversation was initiated between Carrie-Anne and this nice, but misguided woman, and a picture was taken to commemorate the exchange.

The surgery was yesterday morning and, again, it went perfectly. The doctors and nurses are over-the-top wonderful in every way and our experience was about as good as it could be. Carrie-Anne is super sore today — don’t make her laugh yet — and it’s going to take at least the rest of the week for her to walk straight up without pain. But this is one determined chick. Through this whole ordeal, not one part of It has gotten her down. She’s amazing, this woman. Her motto has become, “Whaddaya gonna do?” But she does it — all of it — with grace and grit, with incredible faith and strength. She’s beautiful in a million ways and more inspiring and magnificent every day.

Coincidentally, my sister Sharon and our brother-in-law Brent were at M.D. Anderson this morning for one of his lymphoma treatments, so we spent an hour or so with them today in the Mays building, four floors up from where C-A had her surgery 24 hours earlier. Brent has responded miraculously to his treatments — the doctors are telling him that the lymphoma is gone. And we praise God for that, too. Our Father is blessing us beyond anything we deserve and we are all so thankful.

It’s good to be home. It’s good that we get to sleep in a bit tomorrow. And it’s good that, by God’s grace, we’re on the other side of this thing.

Peace,

Allan

The Good Group

Carrie-Anne and I went to her final oncology appointment at MD Anderson in Houston yesterday so everybody could look at her one more time and officially declare her cancer-free. Her two doctors must have said half a dozen times, “You are cancer-free. Your cancer is history. You do not have any cancer anymore,” as if to reinforce it in both our brains and our souls. “According to your doctors here,” they said, “we know you do not have cancer. The only way to prove it, is for you to come in once a year for five years so we can document it. But you do not have cancer.” They said many times that Carrie-Anne is in the “good group,” the group the comes in only for routine checks to confirm what they already know: she is cured.

And we thank God.

To help us celebrate, the Rangers completed a wild card sweep of the Rays in Tampa to advance to the ALDS. The timing could not have been more perfect. Carrie-Anne’s last appointment was scheduled for 1:00pm. They took her at about 12:15pm instead. We returned the rental car, took the shuttle to the airport, checked in, went through security, ran to Buffalo Wild Wings, and were seated in front of a large TV before the end of the first inning. I was wearing a Rangers shirt and we were both openly cheering for Texas in the middle of enemy territory as they dominated Tampa Bay and won their first playoff series since the ALCS in 2011. C-A jumped to her feet when the final out was recorded, securing the Rangers win. And, yes, there was some grumbling among the B-Dubs patrons. More than a couple of people reminded us that, in Houston, they only celebrate World Series wins.

We stayed in the restaurant long enough to watch one post-game interview of Josh Jung, then hustled to our gate where they had just announced boarding. The timing could not have been better.

Carrie-Anne has one more procedure related to her reconstruction set for November 20 in Houston. It’s a day surgery, and we should be home the next evening or the Wednesday afternoon before Thanksgiving at the latest. And I don’t care who says it or how many times they keep saying it, I’ll never get tired of hearing people in white coats tell us she is cancer-free.

Peace,

Allan

On the Mend

Just a short post today to update you on my wife Carrie-Anne. Yesterday’s reconstruction surgery went perfectly, of course — these folks at MD Anderson know what they’re doing. They started the surgery at just after 7am and we were both back here at the Hampton Inn before 12noon! Crazy how quickly they turn it around out here! She spent most of yesterday afternoon and evening on pain meds, slipping in and out of sleep. I cooked chicken spaghetti for dinner while Carrie-Anne directed me from the couch. By the way, it is impossible to heat up frozen cheese bread slices without an oven. She ate two bowls of the spaghetti and slept well last night, we both had hearty breakfasts this morning, and she’s getting around pretty well. They want us to take 5-10 minute walks every hour-and-a-half, so that will pretty much define our day. We’re just taking it easy. We’ll drive back home tomorrow, stopping every 90-minutes to walk around and stretch. So it’ll take like four days to get to Midland.

Carrie-Anne is still super sore, and will be for about a week. She won’t make her first day of school, July 19 — we have a video follow up with her surgeon on Friday the 21st. But she might be ready to ease back in to work on Monday the 24th.

Thank you so much for your concerns and prayers and kind words and sweet gestures toward us over the past week or so. Yesterday’s surgery was the last big step in C-A’s treatment and healing. There will be follow-ups and check-ups and another procedure or two this fall related to the reconstruction. But, in the big scheme of things, we are now done. It’s over. My wife is cancer-free and we are overflowing with gratitude to our God and to all our dear friends and family scattered all over Texas and the Great Southwest and throughout the Lord’s eternal Kingdom.

Peace,

Allan

With Family in Houston

 

Carrie-Anne and I have endured four appointments over two days at M.D. Anderson’s main hospital in Houston and the campus in Sugarland. C-A has been poked and prodded, we’ve had all the conversations and signed all the waivers, and we’re ready for her reconstruction surgery at 7a tomorrow. We are cancer-free and overflowing with gratitude. And we’re waking up at 4a in the morning to be at M.D. Anderson before 530a as the temporary expanders are coming out, and the permanent implants are going in. Finally!

The best part of our day today was spending a couple of hours with my sister Sharon and her husband Brent at Pappasito’s across from NRG Stadium. Brent was recently diagnosed with lymphoma – C-A’s last day of chemotherapy was Brent’s first day for his treatments – and they happen to be in H-Town tonight for some of their own appointments tomorrow. So we compared doctors and cussed and discussed the pros and cons of ports, caught up on our kids, and laughed and laughed and laughed.

Y’all lift up my precious wife to the Lord tonight. And say a prayer for Brent.

Peace,

Allan

Those People

Chris and Liz Moore are two of those people. You know those people. Those people you’ve known and loved for a quarter century, who’ve been with you through some memorable highs and a couple of devastating lows, and who love you unconditionally. Those people who were part of your really tight group when the Lord was doing some eternal work on your soul. Those people who laugh with you until you’re crying and cry with you until you’re praying. Those people who stay late after your daughter’s wedding to help you clean up. Those people who know you well enough and think enough of you to lift your spirits when you need it and call you out when it’s necessary. Chris and Liz Moore are two of those people.

Chris and Liz were there when God was chasing Carrie-Anne and me in the early 2000s. When the Lord was calling us and shaping us, when God was speaking to us and revealing himself to us and opening our hearts to receive him and his holy will more fully into our lives, Chris and Liz were there. We worshiped and served with them at the Mesquite Church, we took road trips with them to Oklahoma for the Tulsa Workshop, we talked about the Church and prayed for our congregation, we camped out together in the rain, we played games until late into the night, we watched Super Bowls, argued about the Cowboys, and touted the merits of Van Halen and Ted Nugent versus Aerosmith and Boston.

Chris and Liz came out to see us in Midland this past weekend. We talked together and stayed up too late and laughed and laughed and laughed. We played miniature golf and 99. We ate wonderful food and caught each other up with all our mutual friends. We worshiped together at GCR and introduced them to all our new friends. And we were reminded that God blessed us beyond what we could have asked or imagined when he put the Moores into our lives in 1999. They are crazy fun, deeply reflective, partners in the Gospel, and our lifelong friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carrie-Anne and I are in Houston preparing for her reconstruction surgery at M.D. Anderson. We just polished off a very enjoyable dinner at the P.F. Chang’s at Galleria Park and are settling into our Hampton Inn Suite. We have an oncology appointment tomorrow with her cancer surgeon, Dr. Refinetti; three appointments on Wednesday with her plastic surgeon, the anesthesiologist, and somebody else (I can’t remember); and then her surgery is scheduled for Thursday morning.

We’re almost finished. This week marks the end of a journey that began with Carrie-Anne’s diagnosis on October 28 and has been marked for nine months by our God’s continuous grace. We are blessed by our Lord and overflowing with gratitude and praise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some people have joked that C-A and I timed it perfectly to be away from Midland during VBS week at GCR.

It’s not funny. We love VBS and are absolutely sick to be missing it. We’re expecting more than 200 kids at our VBS Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday evening. And if we’re not all present and pouring into these children and their families, we are missing our calling. And our mission. If you don’t normally help with VBS, I suggest you show up one of these nights, if for nothing else, to meet some parents who are dropping off or picking up their children, or to give a high five to a second-grader and tell her how awesome she is. You’ll be blessed. But that kid might be impacted eternally. You know how that worked in your own life. Why not give a little back this week? Especially since C-A and I can’t be there.

Peace,

Allan

« Older posts