Rebirth

When I was young the elders of my church would speak a lot about the idea of being "born again."

I have to admit that I never fully grasped this concept. Primarily the notion that each of us would be "born again."

For me, always believing in the concepts of God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, the resurrection and forgiveness of sins, my faith was something I grew up with, it was a part of me, and something that I firmly believed in. That had never changed throughout my life. My faith was always very strong. So how could I be "born again?"

Life is funny.

My cancer diagnosis never altered my personal faith. But the support and love expressed so graciously from so many around me altered my view of faith.

I've always been a quiet, private individual. And in my faith I've always been quite private as well. In a lot of ways I just respected others enough not to impose my faith-based concepts on others. I did not want to offend anyone.

But seeing the support from so many these past months has shown me a whole other aspect of faith that I have been missing - the ideas of brotherhood, fellowship, and benevolance. The idea that a great aspect of our faith is not just personal, but shared. The idea that a great aspect of our faith is not just in keeping good care of ourselves, but keeping good care of all our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ.

To this extent, now, I have been "born again." I finally understand the significance and value of the brotherhood of the church family, and now pursue to be a part of it rather than to shy away.

And as soon as my strength and health improves my mission will be to extend the kindness that has been extended to me ten-fold.

Thank you to everyone, in all the church families, that have taught me so much, shown me such patience, and extended such love.

Still Waiting.......It's The Hardest Part

It is 6 pm as of right now and the broncoscopy results are expected until early next week. Right now Jim is flipping back and forth between TV channels between watching Frasier and the musical group Green Day. I anxiously await for Alyssa and Charlie to show up, I think we are going to walk up to the local carnival this evening and see what fattening food we can find. LOL

I certainly hope everyone has an enjoyable weekend and take care!!!

Living Life Like a Man of La Mancha

I had recorded Man of La Mancha for Barb and I to watch when we had time. We sat down and watched it today.

It has been over 20-years since I've seen the movie. I only remembered that I liked it a lot. And of course I remembered that it involved a crazy Don Quixote chasing windmills.

I still liked the movie every bit as I remembered. And I think I know why.

In the middle of the movie Don Quixote (Peter O'toole) asks, "Is it crazy to live life as it is, or to live life as it should be?"

This has always been a mantra I've lived life by unconsciously. I've never been satisfied just to live life as expected, but as I've thought best. Sometimes that may have taken me "outside the lines," or raised eyebrows. Sometimes that meant I took a longer, harder road. Sometimes that has made people think, like they did of Don Quixote, that I must be quite mad.

But if a manager asked me to take shortcuts on a job to increase profits and I ignored him and produced a quality job nonetheless - that was me living life the way I thought it should be.

If a professor gave me a "C" because I refused to go out on a date with her, although I easily earned an "A" - that was me living the life the way I thought it should be.

It's a great movie. Please take a chance to see it when you can.

To dream the impossible dream,
To fight the unbeatable foe,
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go;
To right the unrightable wrong.

To love, pure and chaste, from afar,
To try, when your arms are too weary,
To reach the unreachable star!

This is my Quest to follow that star,
No matter how hopeless, no matter how far,
To fight for the right
Without question or pause,
To be willing to march into hell
For a heavenly cause!

And I know, if I'll only be true
To this glorious Quest,
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm
When I'm laid to my rest.

And the world will be better for this,
That one man, scorned and covered with scars,
Still strove, with his last ounce of courage,
To reach the unreachable stars!

Politics of Health

I believe in Democracy, and I believe in Capitalism.

I think that technology will someday make Democracy a reality. Although you'll often hear our system referred to as a great "Democracy," we are indeed a Republic. A Democracy is one vote for every man or woman. A Republic is a representational style of government, where representatives are voted for to respresent your interests.

There's little I would recommend more than getting rid of all of our representatives. The best way is to implement a true Democracy. In Pennsylvania alone, since January, our legislature has passed four bills, two of them were to name bridges, the other two were just as innocuous.

Why am I talking politics?

Well as a cancer fighter I've learned that a majority of my time is spent wrestling with insurance companies, mired in greed and politics. And it stinks. I absolutely, positively, have gone without needed care, and have had care severely delayed because of the greed and politics of the insurance industry.

I don't need to just pick on my company. From my understanding, from talking to other patients, from talking to doctors and nurses and medical staff - this is all normal, no matter what the insurance company, no matter what the patients' condition.

It's an awful shame. It makes us a society that lacks compassion and ultimately greatness. As long as we choose profits over care for one another we are not a great society, or a world leader or an example setter.

Most of Europe has already socialized health care systems to ensure that everyone receives treatment needed at affordable costs. We could learn something from others. It seems like a tough pill for Americans to swallow - the concept that we actually could stand to learn something from some other country. But we'd be smarter to realize that we can learn and implement things from everyone around the world. Afterall, isn't that diversity of intellect what made this country so wonderful to begin with?

I do believe in Capitalism. Competing is part of human nature. And building that natural competition into the scheme of the social structure is necessary. Communism of course was doomed to fail because it went against the very instincts of human nature. And it followed with corruption, competition, and ultimately different social classes within a false promise of a society without classes.

But Capitalism is not always good. And I think that the concept of health insurance is no better example of the failure of a capitalistic structure.

Sick people need care. Health insurance companies need to make profits. The best way for health insurers to make profits is to limit or deny sick people care. Just the very nature of that structure is just bad, bad, bad.

And boy have I experienced it. I've had an important PET scan delayed for over a month. I've had chemotherapy costs completely denied, which delayed my start of chemo treatments until alternative financing could be arranged. As I write this I'm having important medications to control naseau denied. There are no good reasons. Well except for the reason my one doctor quoted yesterday, "They're just trying to put you off because they don't want to pay for anything."

And put me off they have. It was four hours on the phone yesterday. A couple of times I got transferred to the moon. Yes, the moon, but don't worry, no one answered and the line dropped. I've been trasferred from department to department, hung-up on, run around, told everything and anything.

Our healthcare system is not working. We can learn lessons from Europe. I do believe that common products in society that everyone needs (like healthcare) can be socialized. But do we give controls to our government to run these provisions for the populace? Yeah, that thought does scare me too.

Well excuse me on my pulpit. But I do feel that there are some important thoughts to share.

And now I better get back on the line with my insurance company. I haven't eaten in three days because of the naseau. And I'm hoping that maybe four more hours beating myself up on the phone with my insurance company may lead to the pills I need to control the naseau, and possibly even eat lunch today.

The Following Day

Yesterday my husband Jim has a broncoscopy done for what they thought was something in the trachea. It was found to be on the outside growing in. We should know within the next few days the results of that. I cannot imagine the Nexavar not doing what it has been doing in conjunction with this also.

He seems to be getting better even though the fatigue and nausea still exists. At the moment everything seems to be manageable.

It is a very hot day in Marietta and we have the air conditioning running in order to keep Jim comfortable. I can't wait until he tells me to make him something to eat because that is the one thing I awaiting for the return of appetite.

It may seem simple, but I like to get a few of my thoughts out in the open once in awhile.

Simple Things

Going through four weeks of radiation treatments, you begin to see familiar faces in the waiting room each day. They are faces of other patients also receiving radiation treatments, either scheduled just before or just after you.

During my last two weeks of treatments I daily noticed a gentleman, likely in his 70's. We had never spoke. But we had exchanged glances over waiting room magazines.

In my last week of treatments I was feeling very rough. My movements were slow. My hair was gone. My stomach was upset. I felt, quite frankly, close to death.

The process of the daily treatments always moved quickly. The staff was very professional, understanding and caring. The time spent in the waiting room was always minimal. Often times I would be called from the first waiting room to a second waiting room and then into the treatment area.

On one day, during my last week of treatments, I was called to the second waiting room. I had glanced to my right and noticed the older gentleman, that I had started to notice daily in the lobby, coming out of the treatment room towards me. I looked back into my magazine. As he passed by I felt a soft hand on my shoulder and he said, "Have a good day," as he kept moving by me.

It was a gesture I won't soon forget. Such a simple, small gesture. It didn't matter that he knew me, or anything about me. He knew what I was going through and decided to reach out and add a bit of comfort and kindness.

Along this journey I've been touched by similar anonymous acts, some simple, some much more complex. If I can return such acts of kindness to others for the rest of my life - you can count on it, I WILL!

Not Something You See Everyday

Click on photo to view larger image.
We wanted to share this rare photograph of Alice Albert handling live fish. There are some things you will only get one chance to see. This is one of them. But she does look happy, doesn't she?

We are pretty sure Peter Putnam (at left) is responsible for this catch, and most likely cleaning and cooking.

Beautiful Sunday in Pennsylvania, we should probably be out with the camera or down by the river - but we're watching the Phillies and yelling at the TV whenever they make mistakes (as a good Philadelphia fan would do).

Barb surprised me with a case (yes I said a case) of Drake's Cherry Pies it's not the most healthy snack. But it is one thing I know I can always eat. In the meantime, we continue to try and expand my diet.

The fatigue symptons continue to improve. The appetite is slowly getting better (I ate a whole turkey sub). I predict in one more week, Barb will not be able to beat me in arm wrestling. So enjoy it while it lasts Barbie girl, Ha, Ha, Ha!!!

Time Keeps Flowing Like A River

Well everyone I watch my husband Jim as it seems to be improving. My expectations are high in recovery of everything that has gone on. I want to get him outside today and take a walk, I think the fresh air would do him good.

One of the funny things in Marietta is that the local fire company has a chicken barbeque and they actually drive the fire truck around and make chicken noices to draw attention, it's quite amusing. Rather than chicken though, Jim wanted a turkey sub from the deli, which he ate the whole thing, which is a very good thing.

I continue to want to cook for him, but the mood has to strike him for what he thinks he will be able to eat. I will be anxious for the bronchoscopy to be done probably within a week or so, just to see of course what they find out. Jim's blood pressure seems to be much more normal than what it had been. I think personally, that things are going quite well.

Everyone have a wonderful weekend!!!

For What It's Worth

My relationship with doctors has always been one where I've treated them as the ultimate authorities. I never questioned a word a doctor has said.

One thing that the experiences of the past year have taught me though...is to question everything a doctor says.

My prior approach was indeed naive. Doctors are human. They are like the rest of us. And the profession is like any other profession or field...there are great ones, there are good ones, and there are some that are well...not so hot.

Like anything else in life, there is good and there is bad. Like shopping for tomatoes at the grocery store, you should pick through the bunch and pick out the best ones.

I've seen a lot of doctors through this past year. I think I've seen more doctors this past year than I have in the rest of the combined years of my life. Some of these doctors have been incredible, absolutely amazing, geniuses. Some I've politely parted ways with too. All in all, I've experienced much more good than bad. But I certainly no longer just accept doctors as ultimate authorities. If I feel one isn't performing in my best interest, I move on. I have, unfortunately, met with a small few who probably should not be doctors at all.

My lesson has been to be proactive as a patient. It is something you'll hear cancer survivors repeat again and again and again. Though cancer has become all to common, there is still a great chance as a cancer patient that the doctor you are meeting with has had no experience with your condition before you walked through the door.

We now take nothing for granted. You would hope that doctors are communicating with one another about your case, that reports and films are getting to where they need to get for complete analysis, that offices are communicating with insurance companies to work out proper payments - barely ever happens. We make all the calls. We make sure that everything gets to where they need to get. We make sure that the insurance company and the doctors are in sync.

For just one example - it took us seven months of phone calls to have one large medical bill taken care of, all because a doctor's office and an insurance office wouldn't pick up the phone and talk to one another. We had to facilitate all the communications, frustratingly over months.

It can be kind of a sad, and certainly a frustrating, environment. You want to focus on health and getting better. The last thing you want to have to deal with is wrestling with beauracracy and chasing paper trails. I do believe that we have the best healthcare system in the world. But we can't rest on our laurels. There's always room for improvement in everything. And we do have room to improve, and we should continiue to strive for it.

But, as I've said, life is full of good and bad. And for all the frustrating times, there has been very special times as well. I do have some doctors who have shown such caring and such compassion. They are truly heroes, and I am so thankful for their generous involvement in my health.

I think for the most part that the special times come from inside the person who is offering care. And I think a lot of times the frustrations come from the "machine," which is the cold-hearted, money-making, industry that tends to put you as the patient on an assembly line, assigning you a number rather than a face and a name.

For what it's worth...take charge of your own health!

Outlook Is Up

As I anxiously anticipate good news to continue, I will also look forward to only that from the pulmonary appointment tomorrow. I can't imagine it being something in addition to what has already been going on. The bronchoscopy has not been scheduled as of yet, but that I am sure will be soon to follow. Jim usually takes a nap during the course of the day, but yesterday he didn't I guess feel the need to do so.

Although his appetite continues to waiver, it's another one thing at a time. My daughter Alyssa came by the house yesterday after school to keep us company while her fiance' Charlie was at work. We are so excited for the two of them, building a new home and starting their lives together. I am supposing that a few years down the road, we will be grandparents, which is hard to imagine. At the same time, I am excited about it, to babysit and such.

Thank you everybody with your involvement in keeping everything going, you know who are, and we don't know what we'd do without you.

A Smaller Truck

This is definitely my favorite picture of Alyssa and I. It seems to capture both of our spirits when we're together...me a bit mischevious, and Alyssa borderline upset, while still holding back a laugh. LOL

I'm definitely feeling better this week than last. But then last week was, well, pretty rough. I think the best way to sum it up is that this week I still feel like I've been run over by a truck, just a smaller truck, maybe a pick-up truck, while last week was more like a tractor-trailer.

It's going to take awhile. I've read one testimonial through the American Cancer Society's web site where one woman discussed her radiation experiences and spoke of how she felt it took an entire year for a body chemistry to return to normal.

The radiation treatment is certainly an odd thing to experience. As my senses have returned these past few days I've begun to ask Barbara what that odd smell was. It's turn out to be me! As dead skin peels off from the treated areas it is like nothing I've ever seen before, blue in hue, and odd in texture and smell.

I continue to see signs of improvement. It is often times two steps forward and one step back - but I expected that. I'll keep working on pulling it back together with all of your wonderful continued help and understanding!

Moderate Return of Appetite

If there has been any one thing that I have been worried about has been Jim's appetite, I have been used him pretty much eating whatever he chooses and not gaining weight. Finally, I am beginning to see somewhat of increase, thank goodness. I continue to watch everything as closely as possible.

I can't wait until the day that Jim and I can play tennis again and ride our bikes etc., I am dedicated to getting him back to being as healthy as possible. I know that he misses these activities also, but one thing at a time.

I can't wait until my daughter's wedding in September, one of the biggest occasions of one's life, and her happiness is incredibly important to me. Alyssa has been a great supporter also, and we keep an eye on each other.

It simply amazes me where time goes and that is why each day that I spend with Jim and the family is incredibly special, you can never take this for granted in any phase of life. You can never miss a beat.

Thank You

A week has past since the radiation treatments have ended. I certainly feel much better than I had a week ago. But there still is a good stretch of recovery left to go.

It's difficult to extend thanks without leaving someone out. So many people have extended themselves to help me through this that I cannot possibly include everyone. But I feel like I can never thank those who have helped enough - so I better start as soon as possible and see how close I can get to expressing how truly grateful I am.

To Barb - THANK YOU - being closest of all to me you've felt everything I've felt, gone through everything I've gone through, and been there for it all. THANKS!

To Alice and Susan (the Moms) - THANK YOU - you've given everything and asked for nothing, making sure every little need was met and surrounding this house with the love that only a mother could bring. THANKS!

To Paul and Bill (the Dads) - THANK YOU - you've been the rocks and the foundations you've always been, the shoulders everyone can always lean on. THANKS!

To Alyssa and Charlie (the kids?) - THANK YOU - you've unselfishly given your time to help me get to appointments, pick-up medications, whatever, whenever, you guys time after time just made sure that all the needs were being taken care of. THANKS!

To Debbie and Karen and Jamie and Doug and Cristy - THANK YOU - you've taken time out from your lives to get me to treatments and doctors, you've filled all the gaps and the holes to ensure that life could continue as normal around here. THANKS!

To Matt and Annaleigh (I know I'm spelling this wrong, I'm so sorry) - THANK YOU - your kindess and generosity has been extraordinary, really reaching out towards any need that you may see with open arms and without hesitation, even while you balance your own life's events with the birth of your third child. THANKS!

To Muk - THANK YOU - you've always gone the extra mile to stay in touch with family, to knit the family together, and to add a little extra sunshine to everyones' lives, from the surprise shoeboxes of brownies or banana bread in college through to today with sudden life-sized stuffed animals showing up at my door. THANKS!

To everyone who has sent me hats - THANK YOU - it makes me smile every time I walk out to our sunroom and see my sudden impressive collection of ball caps. I know it's hard for all those who've known me to imagine me without hair. But I've grown all that hair all these years for a really good reason, I have a really ugly head! LOL So to everyone who has sent me hats, I, and the world at large, thank you! THANKS!

When I pray each day, I always remind myself not to pray for my needs but to pray for others, all that are suffering, all that are in need. For myself, I only pray for forgiveness, for strength and guidance in being a better man in Christ's footsteps and by Christ's examples.

Thank you to everyone who has extended their prayers for me, for us. Thank you to the church families in Myerstown and in Red Lion for their love and support.

And thank you to anyone I've missed or not mentioned, they are numerous. You've all shown me that the greatest thing anyone can give is themselves.

THANKS!

It's Saturday

Well I must say that I was impressed with Jim's appetite for peanuts earlier today. I want to see a continuous increase in his appetite.

If I am not doing some housework (and trying to be quiet when doing so), I am doing my cross-stitch which I consider to be a good productive hobby. Maybe I should get myself involved in craft shows and sell finished work?

I anxiously await for Jim's comeback to normalcy. Today in my opinion, he does not seem to be doing badly at all. All good things come to those who wait, well it took me 20 years to find him.

Alyssa and Charlie came over last night for our typical Friday night gathering. Jim and I enjoy the company and we always catch up on what is going on in each other's lives. I am looking forward to their wedding and watch them grow together.

Quick Update

Last week I had a CT scan of the chest. Since this cancer was detected over a year ago, every follow-up scan had shown two areas of concern: one in a lymph node in the left hilar area (where my trachea meets my lung); and the other in the upper lobe of the left lung.

Both of these areas were very small throughout 2006, which was why the doctors had always decided to wait and watch. And since they were so small, it is why the sudden appearance in the brain in 2007 was such a shock.

The CT scan last week showed that the lymph node in the left hilar area is back to normal size. The lesion in the upper lobe of the left lung is now slightly reduced in size.

The feeling of two oncologists is that the chemotherapy is at this point working.

There was only one new finding on the CT scan. There is an odd, long and slender shaped, mystery mass inside the back of my trachea, near where the trachea splits in two. The feeling at this point is that this is not a concern. But, of course, we're playing "better safe than sorry" and we're scheduling a bronchoscopy to get in there and have a look and check it out. I did have some pretty nasty infections during radiation treatments and my gut feeling is that this mystery mass is related to this.

It's going to be a long road recovering from the radiation treatments, but every day I get a little bit stronger. You can see the red radiation burn outline around my head. My head is peeling like crazy. There is a lot of soreness and swelling. My ears are swollen nearly shut and they are ringing constantly. The fatique is still heavy. My appetite continues to be very poor. It's difficult to eat and swallow. My senses of taste and smell are still way off.

But all of those things do continue to improve everyday. It's just a matter of time.

We went for a walk yesterday. And as tough as that was to get started, I think it was extremely beneficial. We're going to start walking every day and try to go one block further every day.

Thanks to everyone for all the continued support! Everyone pushing me and cheering me on back to health is the motivation that leads me and inspires me!

On A Better Note

Jim had his oncologist visit today, everything that the doctor had to say sounded promising. The Nexavar seems to be doing what it is intended to do. The one thing that has them slightly perplexed is the soft mass within the trachea. They are going to proceed in doing a bronchoscopy to put this mass to the test to make certain that is not considered to be cancer.

I am still considerably considered about the appetite, but I am sure that it will return within an appropriate amount of time. I just do not want to see a drastic weight loss, among everything else that needs to be considered.

But things are definitely on the upside. I look forward to my daughters wedding in September, because that is one thing that is definitely worth looking forward to. Once again, thank you to those of you with the considerate words and acts of kindness that have been reached out to Jim and myself.

The Angry Beaver

Every now and again my good friend Mark would drop by in the early evening on a Friday and ask Barb, my wife, "Can Jim come out and play?"

One nice Friday evening, with permission from Barb, we walked down to one of the local pubs for a pint of Guinness or two. Since the weather was so nice we decided to sit out on the patio.

Our routine was always the same. We would spend an hour or two just catching up with each other, finding out what was going on in each other's lives, our work, our families.

Marietta is a very sleepy, quiet, historic town along the Susquehanna River in south central Pennsylvania. There are only two things that disturb the peace here: the town's fire siren, and the horns of trains.

I really do not now the history of the town's fire siren. But our siren is infamous for being the loudest siren in the entire world. Marietta, geographically, covers a very, very, very small area of land. But our siren can be heard across the river, to many neighboring towns, and for miles and miles around. The siren has been the topic of much debate and furor in town, and has even caused people to move and leave town. But, for whatever the reason, it continues to wale and deafening decibels.

As for the trains, a major supply route runs along the Susquehanna River and the trains are required by law to blow their horns at any road crossing that does not have crossing guards. The road crossings with the railroad in Marietta are only small access roads to the river. They hardly call for the great expense of crossing guards. The roads are used more by pedestrians headed to the river than they are by cars. And the trains horns are loud. They rock this small town. And for some lighter sleepers, it is enough to make them sit straight up in bed when the horn sounds at 3 a.m.

As Mark and I caught up with one another, out on the patio, right next to the train tracks, we both overheard a conversation gaining strength and volume from a table next to ours.

It seems that a group of four men had noticed a beaver playing on the railroad tracks and became locked on its every move.

Now I have seen beavers before, but rarely in this area.

And they weren't kidding. There he was. It was a beaver. And he seemed to be pulling branches together out on the tracks.

Well one of the four men watching the beaver suddenly suggested that the beaver was likely going to get hit by the next train. And with such heavy train traffic, it would likely be soon.

What?!?!?!?

This is not what we cared to see.

Well I do believe that the four gentlemen next to us had quite a few more pints than we had. But I was touched by their kindness when one suggested that they go try to chase the beaver back into the narrow slice of woods between the railroad tracks and the river.

The four men quickly agreed. Mark said to me, "Let's go help."

I kind of figured four men was plenty to scare a beaver. But I guess that's why I've always liked Mark - he hates to pass up on a unique opportunity.

We caught the foursome, quickly introduced ourselves, said "We're here to help," and in seconds we were face to face with a beaver.

We formed a half circle around the beaver and started waving our arms and making noises that I guess we figured would frighten any self-respecting beaver.

But this beaver was not scared. He was mean.

The beaver showed us his teeth, snarling, saliva flying as he snapped his teeth at us all one by one. This was one angry beaver.

Then we heard it - the train horn in the distance.

One of the four men who led the charge up to the tracks quickly suggested. "Bill," he said to one of the men, "I'm going to back my van up here. I've got an empty tv box in the back. Let's throw the box over the beaver, shuffle him inside, toss the box in the van, and drive this beaver north of Bainbridge."

"Do it!" Bill agreed.

The train horn sounded again. It was getting closer.

The beaver was getting angry. The branches he had collected were his, and there was no way he was leaving his spot.

Mark and I started to withdraw a bit.

The van backed up to the tracks with some speed and slammed on the brakes. The backdoors were quickly opened and out came a giant tv box. The foursome prepared the tv box for optimum "beaver capturing." One man yelled out to Mark and I to get the beaver's attention.

The train horn sounded again. It was getting louder.

Mark dived close to the beaver and it snapped out towards him. As the beaver recoiled two of the other men tossed the box over the beaver. The other two men swiftly rolled the box over quickly and sealed the box by interlocking the top flaps. They lifted the box and gently placed it in the back of the van, then shutting the doors.

The driver of the van and one of the other four men discussed their planned drop-off destination. A more generous stretch of wildnerness away from the dangers of man.

The train passed by, horn wailing, deafening, shaking the ground.

The van took off. They were in for about a 8-mile drive north along the river.

The remaining four of us began to head back to the pub. We were proud. We felt like we really accomplished something good. We patted each other on the back and smiled and laughed.

Then Mark said to me "How long to you think it takes an angry beaver to get out of a cardboard tv box?"

I've always been a fan of great story-telling. This story was adapted from one I had heard on NPR. (smile)

In Dedication

I have dedicated myself to you,
one of life's decisions I knew I had to do.
In all the things that make up life,
it is wonderful being your wife.

I have always had you in my dreams,
a man such as you, and so it seems.
I live with you each day in my heart,
as I have from the very start.

It may have taken time for us to find one another,
but you have been like no other.
We will live out the rest of ours together,
because I am yours forever and ever.

The Day At A Glance

Jim had a family physician appointment this morning and prescribed medication for his nausea and the infection he has been dealing with. His blood pressure has been low for someone of his height and they continue to try and regulate that much better. Since Jim is off of the steroids the affects of this drug are beginning to minimize and they have found it no longer necessary to be on an additional diuretic. There has been some weight loss but the appetite still needs to be on the increase.

I hope in getting some of the newer prescriptions that will help with his feeling of nausea and that will help with the appetite. I have been eyeballing the circumstance and keep a constant and consistent watch over everything that has been going on.

I thank everybody once again in Jim's healing process family, friends and otherwise that have been so incredibly supportive. We love you all!!!

A Comment on Comments

We're new to this "blog" thing. But it's proven to be a nice way to share thoughts and feelings with friends and family, and keep everyone up-to-date in one place.

Actually I was fortunate enough to meet a couple online from Northern California who are in a very similar situation to ourselves and they introduced us to their blog (thanks Tim and Karen!), which their daughter had started.

One comment that we've heard more than once is "How do you leave comments? What's this registered Google user stuff?"

Well, at first, we had the blog settings set to only allow registered Google users to comment. Remember, we don't really know what we're doing. A big thank you to Alyssa for pointing this out to us.

We have now reset the settings to allow comments from everyone.

The best way to leave a comment is probably . . .

1 - click on "comments" at the end of a blog entry
2 - type your comment
3 - under "choose your identity" select "other"
4 - type your name if you wish
5 - click "publish your comment"

And please don't ever be afraid of saying the wrong thing. It's impossible. We're so enamored with all the support received.

Time to Recover

There are a lot of people I owe an e-mail or a phone call. I plan to reach out to everyone who has contacted me as I regain strength over the next week. With the last radiation treatment on Thursday I'm now ready to begin recovery, and begin rebuilding strength over the next few weeks. The doctor said bluntly that I'll continue to feel the effects of the radiation for weeks to come and will not feel like myself again until July.

"Muk" (that's Martha or Marty Putnam to just about everyone else) has been keeping in touch with me every week. It's been very sweet and very appreciated. She even sent a stuffed animal Pug watchdog up from Florida with Lynn to keep an eye on me.

Muk also sent me some old pictures in the mail recently. I thought this one was interesting to share. Go ahead and leave a comment and see if you can guess who everyone is. You can click on the picture to view a larger version.

The Day After

Fortunately this morning Jim could rest, rather than having to get up early and go to a treatment. The next MRI is scheduled in July and we anticipate positive results. We are following everything that goes on very closely and so that all goes smoothly.

I am waiting for sense of taste to return and some normalcy of the blood pressure to bounce back. The results of the CAT scan seem to show solid results from taking the Nexavar.

I thank all of the people that have been involved in getting Jim from place to place and we hope they realize just how much it means to us. It has been difficult ride but we have the faith to know we will get through.

See 'Ya Later Radiation

Today is the last day of radiation treatments. It's been a long month of treatments and I won't miss them one little bit.

The treatments only last for 5 minutes every day. But the effects are cumulative over the month's time. And by today, the last day of treatment, it leaves me worn, weary, and feeling like a truck has run over me.

There is a big bell in the lobby, just outside the treatment rooms. I believe on the last day of treatments they invite you to ring the heck out of the bell to celebrate. I don't believe I'll ring that bell, out of respect to all the other patients who are just starting, or in mid-stride, of their treatments. They need peace - not bells. I know.

But I'll be ringing that bell inside of me! This has been the toughest thing I've ever had to endure - and I'm someone who has had to have a kidney removed. I'd wish these past 30-days on no one.

But it's important to note that I am still very positive. And when I say positive, I'm not necessarily concerned with all the health issues, whether this cancer will go into remission or continue to grow. What God has in store for me I will accept, and all of those health issues are really things that I cannot control.

But I am positive and grateful, believe it or not, for all the experiences of the past few months, and all the opportunities it has provided me for growth and learning.

I used to get so caught up in work and my daily grind that I rarely stopped to really appreciate all the beautiful, yet simple, things around me. Something like cancer can really deconstruct your life and help you focus on all the beautiful, simple things that have always been around you, yet you were too "busy" to notice.

Every flower in our backyard is more colorful. Freckles the cat is even funnier stalking the squirrels from the back screen door. The blue jays are more vivid scouring our gutters for nest building materials.

The kindness of people is more appreciated and more recognized now. I've somehow now become a person who hugs other people. Can you believe that? Me of all people? Hugging? It's true.

There are a lot of people who may take the perspective of "Why me? It's not fair! How could I get cancer?" And I won't try to kid you, I've had my brief moments.

But really, the majority of the time, I do focus on how this has made me grow into a better person, a stronger person, a wiser person. As a friend of mine, who also has battled two separate primary cancers reminded me..."that that doesn't kill us will just make us stronger."

And it's true.

But then I AM just a big goofball.

See 'ya later radiation! Today is the last day of treatments. I WON'T miss 'ya.

The Day Before

As I see what my husband is going through it has become a challenge to see him feeling the way that he does. We are both still very much focused on the positive outcomes and with
one radiation treatment left, it still seems days away. I don't remember ever having to experience something that has seemed to just last forever.

I had a brief visit with my previous co-workers today and I do miss them, but I will continue to stay in touch because they have been incredibly understanding and are being understanding of what we are going through.

You always hear things like this happening to everyone else, but you never expect to have it happen to you, but until it does you remain clueless until you know what it feels like.

A Life Changing Event

It's amazing how the things that are going on with Jim (or anyone in this type of situation) can be considered such a life changing event. One usually thinks of these things all for the good, but when something such as this enters your life, you have to put everything else on the back-burner and concentrate on the things that need to be done. I can only say that it is somewhat of a test of love, friendship and faith and those things are very important when it comes down to everything involved in the care of a person in need.

At this point we are looking at 10 more minutes of treatment rather than so many weeks. Approximately 6 weeks from now will be another MRI showing the results of treatment and a CAT scan was done today to see what is happening within the lung area and in all positive thoughts we are to see the Nexavar is doing is job.

A Different Kind of Sunburn

You can see the red "sunburn" line that circles around my head now. It's the radiation burns, marking the orbit around my head that has been receiving daily doses of radiation for the past three weeks.

The skin is starting to dry out and peel a bit, and the ears especially are dried out and sore.

But the end of radiation treatments is in sight now, only three more to go! It will end on Thursday and then I'll begin the healing process to regain strength and energy again.

It's difficult to describe the feelings and effects of going through something like this. It is certainly the most grueling and testing weeks I've endured in my life (but then I've always had it pretty easy).

My appetite is gone. I really can't taste anything except for sweets. I'm not sure why the taste for sweet was spared, nor are the doctors and nurses. But I'll take it. It still allows me to enjoy a lot of fresh fruits and veggies, and that's what I'm pouring in myself.

We've tried a lot of dishes the past week that just haven't worked out well for me. So if anyone's hungry, stop on over, we've got a lot of leftovers. LOL

Overall fatique continues to be the main side effect from the radiation. I'm napping a lot, just trying to listen to what my body tells me to do. It will be some rest and recovery into June. Then we'll see what we can do to knock this cancer down.

And a big thank you to everyone who's been getting me back and forth to treatments. How fortunate of a guy I am!!!

What I See

Usually on Sundays Jim make a little bit of a come back from his weekly treatments. So far today I am seeing a decrease in appetite, but we both know we have to keep his energy up as much as possible. There are four more treatments to go and the realization is that it will still take quite a bit of time for him to get back to what is considered as feeling himself.

I am doing what I can to encourage him to stay healthy and do only what he feels he is capable of doing. I love Jim and I would do anything that I possibly could for him and it has always been that way. We both know the power of prayer and believing and we will always be there for each other.

Welcome the Weekend!

Did you ever notice how the weekend always seems to show up just in the nick of time?

I'm definitely welcoming this weekend with a big "Woohoo!" because it means a day off from radiation treatments. After three weeks, the radiation has taken its toll. I'm completely exhausted, all of the time. "Sleepy" builds up in my eyes just as I'm sitting in front of the tv. Everything's in slow motion and feels very heavy. But having these next two days off will help me build up strength again.

You can see the radiation "burn" lines now in my head. It's quite the interesting suntan. Probably not the most attractive...but I've been told by my brother-in-law that "bald is the new blonde." lol Ummmmmm. OK.

I now do have a constant metallic taste in my mouth. It's kind of like walking around with a piece of tin foil in your mouth all the time. I've lost most taste and most of the food I typically enjoy now just tastes like cardboard to me. Fortunately though I've still been able to maintain a taste for sweet things, so many fruits and some vegetables are still working, and I'm loading up on them.

Marietta got rocked pretty good with some thunderstorms last night but it seemed like we escaped some of the most severe of the storms. It will be another humid mug fest out there today. But the family "muscle" is stopping in today to get my window air conditioners into this 175-plus year old house.

One more week of radiation treatments and then we'll start working on regaining strength and some sense of normalcy again!

You Know Who You Are

I want to thank everyone for all help they have given us over the past several months. We don't know what we would have done without you. I have such a special daughter, soon to be son-in-law, my parents, Jim's parents and each others siblings that have done everything that they possibly have been able to do. Family is so incredibly important and the love we all share with each other, and I thank God every day for those people in my life.

Special Thanks

I can withstand my own suffering. But I cannot withstand seeing others suffer.

And when illness strikes so close to home, a spouse, a loved-one, a family member, a close friend, it is as if any pain they may feel also certainly becomes your own.

I think of the story of Cain and Abel often throughout my life. After Cain had murdered his brother, God comes to him and asks about Abel's whereabouts. Cain replies "Am I my brother's keeper?"

God did not answer Cain. Why? Well I think that's what the rest of the Bible goes on to answer. Of course, we're all our brother's keepers, and it's our calling as children of God. Our lives do extend beyond ourselves.

I've certainly experienced such kindness through the past months. Certainly I've had many "keepers." Certainly no one has ever asked "Am I Jim's keeper?"

I feel terrible about what a burden I have been at times. It's so much easier for me to give than to receive. But I've learned so much about compassion and giving through the great generosity of others. It's made me a more compassionate and giving person.

There's so many people to thank though all of this. But I really do owe a special thank you to my wife Barbara.

Not only has she felt everything I've felt, endured all that I've endured, but she has been a rock of support and positive energies. She's managed to keep everything moving, keep the house going, life going. She's organized transportation. She's wrestled with doctor's offices, insurance companies. She's been my nurse. She's been my nutritionist. She makes sure I'm taking all the medications I have to and when I have to. She's been my everything.

She's been my angel.

Thank you honey! I love you! So much! Forever!