Bobbi is still doing well. The last chemo treatment on Wednesday, she shared wasn’t as bad as the prior ones. She had become so sick after the plastic stent dislodged in her bile duct, but at the time didn’t know that the problem was that. After doctors replaced the plastic one with a metal one things improved dramatically. The body aches, fatigue, hair loss, still exist but knows it from the poison being dripped directly into her port and then heart. I compare this experience like a hurricane. Things are calmer, but the next storm is the whipple surgery about six weeks away. A major surgery that we’re preparing her body for with nutrition. She’s lost a lot of weight during the first battles but has started to put it back on. Night time seem to still be the challenge. I just lay with her and lightly hold her and tell her how proud I am with her, and how many people are in her corner and love her. She WILL beat this. They say pancreatic cancer is a tough battle (as is every illness is) but this is one tough lady. She has never once complained or whined about “why me”. She worked over 40 years in the medical field and knows illness is like the flip of a coin in who and when someone’s life is suddenly changed by it.
I’d like to take time to share a little about this woman. I think we tend to put some people on pedestals. Parents, spouses, family in general. It’s not a bad thing, but it’s a lot of unrealistic expectations and pressure on them. I’ve always called Bobbi my angel. Sounds corny, I know. But I do believe all of us experience someone that makes a big difference in our lives at a time when we need it the most. It can come from many different directions and ways.
When they say opposites attract I tend to agree. Our paths crossed in 1993. I was aiming up a shot on a pool game, at a speakeasy (a place with music, drinks, darts, pool, etc…) and right before I pulled the trigger on my shot this hand swept in front of my eyes with a voice telling me “don’t take life so seriously”. Needless to say my shot skipped the cue ball in a crazy direction and I loss $100 on the game! Wasn’t exactly too happy about it. When I looked up at the person whose hand disturbed me she was walking away to the jukebox, I joined her and we started to talk about the selection of music that was available. We combined quarters for the machine and just started talking. She was there celebrating with friends from work. I was there to shoot pool. Neither one was looking for a “relationship”. We just got along well. We later said goodnight to the other, but all week I kept thinking about her. When Friday came around I returned to the same place, and was happy to see her again with friends. We spent time together talking and playing music. To make a long story short, at the end of the evening I gave her my phone number, saying it’d be nice to take her out sometime. Told her I was giving her my number so I wouldn’t look like a stalker or something. She laughed and did call me later in the week. We agreed to go out the following weekend for supper.
I thought, from her thin frame she’d be a salad gal. Wrong! She started ordering things I never heard of. I was a little concerned about having enough money so not to end up having to wash dishes there. Excused myself and went to the restroom to look in my wallet and see. We were safe. At the time I worked in a printshop, as a pressman, and didn’t make a lot of money. We chuckle about it now with fondness. Must admit It was a concern at the time though.
We slowly developed a strong friendship, over the next few weeks and months. We were as opposite as two people could be. Bobbi was very kind, responsible, and orderly. She grew up in a large family, in small cities in Michigan. She was funny and had a real sense of humor. I, on the other hand, stayed out too late and was trying to find my footing with being responsible. We each had children and they were our main concerns.
She grew up on one side of Lake Michigan and I on the other in Wisconsin. At nine the county my family lived in decided it was best that I’d be removed from my home and subsequently bounced around from foster homes and institutions. I won’t get into what family issues we’re taking place, but I heard the words “your a retard” many times. My challenge was later diagnosed as having Asperger. In the 60’s the systems answer to people with mental health issues were to lock them into institutions. My challenges at the time were many. I didn’t communicate with others well, was removed from every school attended, ran away from all the different places, often to big cities like Chicago and Milwaukee, and sensory and language issues. I wasn’t aware at the time of the clinical labels (always believed labels were for cans of soup). I don’t remember a lot about many things. Little pieces of information. Seeing a speech therapist, fighting on school playgrounds, and a lot of dark hallways with doors lined up going down them. Also little paper cups with different medications with M&Ms mixed in.
When my 18th Birthday arrived I was suddenly faced with society and trying to figure out a way to fit in. Things didn’t turn out to well (a few years ago CNN news featured the hardships and turn around with a story ran on Christmas Day, to view click here)The piece was about the friendship developed between a rookie social worker and I that still exists today. It helps explain how opposite Bobbi and I were when first meeting. I was honest with her about everything from the beginning. I didn’t trust people, I drove motorcycles too fast (was in a club for for awhile) Left all of it behind the closer we became. The thing about the type of club I rode with is that one is always doing another’s agenda. These aren’t things I’m proud of, not in anyway, but a testimony on the power of what real love can do. I use to tell Bobbi that I’d leave me in 5 minutes quick in the beginning.
Her acceptance in me, when I didn’t even believe in myself. Her family and friends doing the same. It opened my eyes to a different world. I knew though that I had to find the road to redemption in some way. Since there was no easy entrance ramp one had to be made. I decided, with Bobbi and even our granddaughters assistance, to attempt to help one person, or nonprofit organization, a kind act each week for a year. Never using our names during the times while writing about it. I knew I could do little about the passed, more less control the future, but I could try (This project can be read about on this link). We called it “The Sequoia Project”.
This experience opened my eyes even further to the world around us. It lasted longer than the planned year. I had seen the worst of humanity and instead of adding to it her love changed me into wanting to help better it. It’s very difficult to explain. It follows me to this day.
Why did this woman jump into the project with me? I was use to others helping others for hidden motives. I share this story to help readers understand what kind of person she is. She is very independent and not naive in any way. The last 15 years of her career she worked helping in heart surgeries! Little did we know later I’d be a patient, but a lot is kind of Shakespearest. Doubt that’s a real word but should be. This unique story was shared during cardiac awareness month a couple year back on TV (see on link if interested).
It’s difficult to open up about so many personal things. But doing so helps the person doing so, and others who may find the courage to do so. We all bleed red in this world, have struggles and victories. We all fall down at times, but it’s what we do with our spills that matter the most. Do we lay in the mud and cry about injustice or do we own it, dust off our knees and get back up smarter and wiser? These writing are about Bobbi’s struggles and successes, but I wanted to try and share the kind of person she is. I know she will beat this. She has overcome many things in her life, with many more adventures to come. I truly believe in angels. They are around us. We just have to have our eyes and hearts open to see them. Thank you again for the many prayers from family and friends.