Keep On Keeping On

A new year is upon us. A strong blistering winter storm dumped 17 inches of snow on the area, and really glad we didn’t need to drive in it. Had a nice and mellow holiday season. Not sure what this new year is going to be like but who does.

On our last visit to Petoskey, to meet with Bobbi’s oncologist, she talked to us about her last scan. The doctor read over the report and said there were a couple of spots on her lungs, which we knew there was from past scans, which would need monitoring. No big deal, just have to keep our eyes on them. Bobbi shared that regardless what the future held she was done with any future chemotherapy or surgeries. The doctor said she had wondered what she would do. When asked about the next follow up, 3 or 6 months, Bobbi said 6 months. Doctor agreed. She said it concerned her as a oncologist, but understood as a person. Bobbi was put through the wringer in 2018. We’ve talked hours upon hours about every possible scenario and what she wanted. If any bad news awaited us what could be done about it anyways? She’s gone through every possible treatment. 8 weeks of chemo with Gemzar and Abraxane, a full Whipple procedure, 6 weeks of daily radiation with chemo, to follow that up with 4 more additional months of chemo. At one time she could barely walk, was in severe pain with bile duct closing, and then the stent falling out. Not to mention all of her hair falling out. 2018 was enough! Now it’s about quality over quantity with the hopes that there will be both. All lab numbers are good so left the meeting feeling pretty optimistic.

Somethings didn’t sit right in my thoughts. I wasn’t sure what it was. We celebrated her ringing the bell after her last chemo treatment, but there was just something that didn’t quite feel right. Usually we are given a copy of scan results. Kept my thoughts to myself and counted our blessings.

Because we do keep copies of everything Bobbi decided to stop at the hospital here in the Soo and went to the records office for the scan paperwork. Reading it was somewhat disheartening. There were more than “a couple” of lung spots. There were five. One had grown larger since the last scan. The radiologist also wrote she suspected possibly that her pancreatic cancer was metastasized, meaning it had spread. Lungs and liver usually are impacted first.

Was a lot to take in. We’ve been told a number of times, with her having spots on her liver, that they believed her cancer had spread, to later learn that it hadn’t. The back and forth with the maybe it has and maybe it hasn’t was hell. How does one wrap their thinking around it? You may have years to live, or a much shorter time. Her oncologist didn’t mention any of this to us about the radiology suspecting Mets. Which we understand. It was the holidays, nothing was written in stone, so why get all worked up over something that could very well be nothing at all. Bobbi told her she wouldn’t pursue future treatments either way so that might have played a role too.

It certainly lead us to some serious discussions between us and family. At first we were a little dumbfounded and shocked that the word “Mets” was used, as well as learning one spot was growing. Do we keep the news to ourselves and just deal with it without concerning loved ones and friends? Why get everyone worked up for no reason if it turns out to be nothing?

I felt, at first, that we should have another scan in 3 months, instead of 6, so we’d have more solid information. If it was going to be a long period of thinking the worse, then it might be better to know ASAP. At least then we’d know exactly how to position things in our head. Bobbi agreed, though preferred to have it checked after 6 months.

I agreed. I always said that whatever her wishes are they would come first. So that’s where we stand on things at the moment. In May she’ll have another scan and we’ll go from there.

Depression started to sink in. Sleepless nights, every thought consumed with WTF?

Then it seemed like a real change took place. We really started to feel blessed with where things are. We had a super nice holiday. And our interaction feels a lot like when we first met 25 some years ago. Loving and laughing a lot and not spending time concentrating on the maybe this or maybe that. Bobbi never had time to bake or cook before, as a cardiac surgical nurse there were long hours and on call times. Now, she’s doing both and whipping out some wonderful meals! We sit at the kitchen table more, together, and really are enjoying each and every day.

Of course we’re concerned if it’s metastatic. But all the worry in the world isn’t going to change the outcome. Life comes at you full speed and is pretty raw and in your face at times. You wonder how your going to deal with it, worry, and it takes away the time you could be trying to enjoy whatever time life is lived. We are at that point. When I was going through all my heart procedures (close to 30 surgeries) it was like a bad dream. Then Bobbi was diagnosed with cancer. Here we were, not having a dime to our name, having our savings evaporated from bills, no home, and totally emotionally and physically beat down. I wasn’t going to suddenly get better and to top it off placed on medical palliative care.

Nobody knows what their tomorrow’s hold. Today, we have a beautiful apartment, everything we need in it, a good car, and are closer than we’ve ever been as a couple. Our kids and grandchildren are healthy (with a new grandchild on the way!) and we’re alive. We are not going to let our appreciation for the good become weighed down by the tough. Don’t get me wrong, we still have a boat load of tough situations. It took every dime to eventually have this beautiful woman ring the bell at her last chemotherapy treatment. We wouldn’t had made it that far without the love and support of our family and friends. The “you are loved” gathering came out of no where and truly helped save her life! Thousands of miles were traveled. Getting a Bobbi to that finish line with the chemo was a mission that there was no compromise on. Today we are thankful for seeing the sun rise in the morning and settle in the evening. We live on about $60 a week once insurances, bills, and medicine co-pays are done. Often wondering how we’re going to find quarters to do laundry. But somehow, today, we manage. Is it stressful? You bet you it is. But we try and put things in perspective. We deal with 24-hours at a time. That’s it. When either of us have a rough day physically we say we can get through today. That’s all we worry about. Period. Would it be nice to be able to plan a trip to see the kids, or see family in lower Michigan, yes. But you can’t squeeze water from a rock and reality is reality. We don’t mope around and have a pity party. We have life and it’s working today! We’ve been doing some drawing and watercolor artwork and really have been enjoying it. Bobbi mentioned to me the other day that she finally feels like she’s retired and it was a long time in coming! Hair is coming back nicely. She is by far one of the best things my life has ever experienced! I look back the last 25 years and just smile at all the things we’ve shared. Motorcycle adventures, children, trips, mostly just enjoying the other’s company.

Bobbi would probably share in this update but is soundly sleeping comfortably. Right now it’s 4:15am, have stayed up all night writing this and taking in the quietness. Have earplugs in so I don’t hear the pumping of the darn oxygen machine, cause that’ll drive you nuts more than anything else, and a cup of coffee.

Today, or I should say yesterday, was a good day! Binge watching seasons of Game of Thrones for the 4th time, and slowly recovering from the missed field goal the Bears screwed up last Sunday in the playoffs! What’s helped a lot is turning off the round the clock world news! Seeing the government on this “shutdown” is a head scratcher. The less fortunate lives are impacted the most, as always, but nothing we can do about it. Maybe someday the politicians will work for the people… ya right, seriously when has it ever been any different? The love of family and friends have continued to pour in! The area up here in Upper Michigan is really starting to feel like home for me. We miss Wisconsin terribly but I’m so glad that Bobbi is close to her mother and siblings. I’ve grown to love them like my own. Each of them are special in their own unique ways.

Well, enough with this book! Just wanted to update everyone and let them know we are still fighting the good fight and happy to be alive. I received a very special book from Cinneidi, our 16-year-old granddaughter, a few weeks ago. She had different pictures of us made into a book and it’s now one of my most prized possessions. Kids are doing great! Sean and Jen doing an amazing job with Cinneidi and Aiden, and working hard, reconnected with Adam and Julie to learn their soon going to have a son, Shay went scuba diving on the east coast of Australia, and we’re simply living life on life’s terms. Thank you for the read!

Happy Holidays!

It’s been close to two months since I rang the bell after my last chemo. Three weeks ago I had another scan and things looked promising. They hesitate to tell a person they are cancer free, but I’m believing so. On the follow up appointment with the Doctor a week later we discussed how often people follow up with scans and appointments after chemo. Some 3 months, some six months. I chose the six month. I can’t live my life living and worrying scan to scan. If things turn south then it is what it is. All the worry in the world won’t change anything. It concerned the Doctor and Mike some but they each get it. Everything that can be done medically has been completed. Next week I’m having the port taken out. Feeling good and getting stronger each day. Taking daily walks with my mother and enjoying this a lot. Getting prepared for the holidays and glad I’m around for it! Wasn’t too sure about it a year ago. After going through an experience like this each holiday is appreciated more. We have our tree and lights up outside, they look really pretty.

“Faces and voices of cancer” organization want to do a interview on the 6th, in a couple days, and I’m glad to be able to help others fighting their battle with my story. I believe hope comes in many forms and if it’ll help another with that then mission accomplished.

Hoping everyone has a nice Christmas and great new year! We have lots of snow here in Upper Michigan, even built a small snowman on Saturday. Got a hat and scarf for it, just need a bit more snow, which I’m sure we’ll get. Not really sure what our Christmas Day plans are, but have awhile yet to plan. Just very grateful for life and being here for it!

Mike-Wishing the same to everyone in having a great holiday season! My gratefulness to everyone is hard to put into words. My admiration towards Bobbi is beyond words as well! Seeing her getting stronger each day is calming. Knowing the scan was good, and blood work, very assuring. What a wild ride it was. Seems so surreal now. I knew she’d be a monarch again, beautiful and shining. But it certainly took a serious toll on her. She fought Twisty and decimated it. Happy that she’s decided to have her port taken out. Doesn’t need a reminder what yesterday’s battles were. We’ll never forget them that’s for sure!

Thank you again to everyone! Have a Merry Christmas and a peaceful new year. Never give up your fight in life, no matter what the odds and so called “statistics” are! Everyone is unique and gifted in some way.

The Bell

October 6, 2018

Bobbi- What a 15 month whirlwind this has been. Chemo Abraxane, Gemzar, hair loss, no eyebrows, eyelashes, completely stripped of recognition. The only control I had was to shave my head when it was literally coming out in clumps. I remember walking from the bed to the kitchen and not sure if I would make it to the nearest chair. Having to sit on the floor of the shower because of not being strong enough to stand. My first thoughts when told I had pancreatic cancer were I will not be around in 6 months, a deadly diagnosis. How I felt then I did not care if I had a time limit on life. When on the brink the human spirit seems to dig deep within to survive. There was a chance that chemo would shrink my tumor and a Whipple surgery would be possible. How can one embrace a huge surgical procedure? I questioned if this would even occur. Next scan liver spots now facing possible metastatic disease, the lifeline was shorter. At time of biopsy spots are gone. WTH . More chemo. I have literally gone through health hell. When told Chemo indefinitely I was done, no more. The day after my decision the surgeon called, said scans were reviewed and I was a candidate for surgery. How would I endure this when I could barely stand? I trained starting with baby steps. Then I was walking a mile, at times having to sit on the side of the road to make it back. I had surgery March 27th and was out of the hospital March 30th. Was I ready to leave the hospital? I put on a warriors face and said I can and will do this, though was unsure. I walked and never stopped. One month after surgery I rode a radiation bus daily for 30 trips along with chemo, with my brother Steve fighting his cancer battle. That period of time we grew even closer. His wife Debbie always with encouraging love.

After my first chemo and radiation treatment, after the surgery, was spent in a motel getting sick for 12 hours. Probably should have gone to the hospital but was seeing doctor next day anyway. I was told I would have 4 more cycles of single agent chemo after chemo radiation was complete. Finally had about an inch of hair and lost it twice so I guess three times the charm. Remember pulling at my hair on day 14 and was shocked when none fell out. Maybe I will luck out this time. By this point the once revered hair mattered little. Never thought I would be writing at this point. Didn’t expect to make it through the ordeal but am so looking forward to my final chemo. Ring the bell. I did not fight alone there are too many champions behind me. My sister Lori and husband Jim came to many appointments and comforted me more times than can be counted. Remember being at her house when I was extremely ill lying in bed together, just being sisters. Our son Sean and wife Jen, who made many trips from Wisconsin with the grandkids were a HUGE motivation. Weekly messages with positive inspiring words from Jens Mother helped. Sharing calls with Shay, our Daughter halfway across the world going to school was a blessing.

My sister Chrissy always called after each treatment meant so much. Visits with brother Mike kept me cheerful and laughing. Meeting with my mother each week, with some really deep talks kept me grounded and feeling positive. All the friends in Wausau were in my corner! The doctors, nurses, social workers, financial assistant coordinator, the nutritionist who provided me with protein drinks and vitamins. The Hope Lodge in Grand Rapids was amazing, along with Surgeon Dr. Jill Onesti. Oncologist Dr. Elena Copolla, Becky Tom NP, and Dr. Boike, Andra, Wendy, from Karmanos were true miracle workers! I would have perished without everyone’s help. When humanity seems to be at all time lows there are people out there.

And of course Mike, my husband. Whose wise words of “worry does not change outcomes” will always stick in my mind when I get too far into the future with it. He was my trainer and coach. And he always told others we were oath keepers not caretakers when the word was brought up. We battled his serious health issues for 7 years, with me doing the same. Guess we do things big at our house, cancer and heart disease. Know his endurance was limited but he made meals, shopped, laundry, shaved my head (and his own), and many sleepless nights looking over me while I slept. Drove 180 miles once a week for over a year. Called hospitals, doctors, loved me, massaged my aching muscles and bones, the list goes on.

I just know today I am here and will spend my remaining days appreciating life. It is not what you have but who you have in your lives. I certainly didn’t fight this alone.

October 11th, 2018

The day finally arrived. We were in Petoskey just a couple days ago, I was the speaker at a survivors meeting, and was unsure what to share. I knew it was a good sign to be speaking at such a meeting. It really dawned on me that I was in fact now a survivor! I still had one more treatment and it’s all I could think about! And today was the day! Lori and Jim met us there, I had the first nurse I started out with, Melissa, and in the exact same chair and room of the first chemo treatment. After the treatment it felt like a ton of weight was lifted off my shoulders. There were many hugs, and when I rang the bell joy never felt before went through my body! We celebrated by going out to a wonderful deli. It feels so good to be alive.

The ride here was stormy and windy. The ride back the same until a giant rainbow appeared the closer we got to home. It was an amazing sight. The timing of it was like an out of the body experience.

There will still be future scans and doctor appointments. No big deal. Today was a good day, no… it was a great day!

October 9th, 2018

Mike- Bobbi spoke at a survivors group today, sharing her story. Many had tears. From barely being able to walk last Christmas to the woman today is a total transformation. So many thanks to everyone! During the talk it sunk in that we were very close to the end of this journey. I was so proud of her using her story to now helping others with their journey.

October 11th, 2018

Seeing Bobbi ring the bell today, having completed all treatments, was an unexplainable feeling. What a long 15 months it’s been. Over 10,000 miles traveled and we are finally done. Lori and Jim met us at the infusion center which was extra nice. Lori presented her with beautiful flowers and the entire experience felt surreal. When we arrived home, and alone we hugged and tears rolled down both our cheeks. Her writings did an excellent job sharing what took place. Glad we have a happy ending. So very proud of her. So grateful for this new chapter. So appreciative for all who have stood by our side with compassion and love. Thank you. Thank you Karmanos!

Today I’am a survivor! To all reading this I hope this inspires you in your battles. The worse odds and statistics matter little. Fight like you’ve never have before and lean on the lives around you. Don’t worry about tomorrow, just get through the one second, minute, hour, and the day you are in.

One Year Ago Today

A picture Cinneidi brought up on visit! Thank you!

Hey cancer… SCREW YOU! One year ago today I learned you were in my pancreas. You took my hair, parts of my stomach, pancreas, gall bladder, small intestine (Whipple). We battled. 26 rounds of chemo, and 30 radiation treatments, I’m still standing! You tried to break me, bury me, and destroy me. Not today you monster!

6 chemo treatments to go and the bell at the infusion center will ring!

We haven’t posted for awhile because of tunnel vision on the finish line. I certainly didn’t fight this alone! Family, friends, doctors, nurses, 3 different hospitals, and answered prayers battled this storm with me! Thank you!

Mike –

Yes indeed, one year ago today we learned that Bobbi has cancer. Neither knew what was to come or to be expected. The fight is still on, we’re not going to lift our foot off its neck for one second. What a year. Strange how three words ‘you have cancer’, that took 3 seconds, can change a life so quickly!

A month ago we were sitting at Lori and Jim’s cabin in Detour and talking about how nice of a summer its been. Out of the blue Bobbi says “Best summer ever!” Everyone there was silent for a second. How in the world could this be the best ever for her? We talked about it and she shared because she was still alive and the lens she sees through, with cancer, changed her perception on life. Little things meant more. She’s always found the silver lining in difficult situations but it’s more than that. I’ve witnessed her taking this fight on and never known a stronger person in my entire life. This last month seeing the kids coming up here was a real blessing and exactly what she needed.

Awhile back someone asked me about caregiving. I was like WTF? We don’t use that word. We call it ‘oath keeping’. When we married our vows contained through sickness and health… never once has it been caregiving. With each having our health challenges both have been oath keepers. You don’t just stick around during the good times and hit the road during the tough. What kind of marriage would that be? Nobody ever promised life would be fair and easy. You just have to suit up and swing away. You win some, you lose some, and you keep fighting. Today we’ve got this!

Radiation Treatments Completed

A picture Bobbi painted of a fairy with watercolors after she lost her hair last year. It’s grown into what she imagined it to look like. 

Today Bobbi completed her 30th radiation treatment. Man, there is simply no words that can describe my admiration to this woman. From the start, the bleakest day’s, to now crossing over a milestone that’s deciding everything. It was a long-haul, 6,000 miles! And she did it with her head held high, a sense of humor, and uncompromising attitude of screw you cancer. Knowing the odds, not being sure if she would see Christmas or spring. I am thankful to family and friends to catch her when she needed it, all being proud and concerned. Her friends and family have been unbelievable from the start. The party in Wausau last year opened her eyes to all the love and support that others have for her. Kindness, having others back at times, returned ten fold to her a time she needed most. The love from direct family made her smile during the darkness days in many ways. Sean and kids visiting more, staying at hospital during Whipple, her siblings love going to chemotherapy with her, all made a difference. Nobody was sure of anything at one time.

I’ve notice small but significant things that show me her old cocoon is really shedding. We were out playing frisbee the other day and it reminded doing so before all this. Last weekend there was a big get together for her sister Lori’s birthday at their cabin in DeTour. Bobbi arranged everyone to meet a few miles away so we could drive there and surprise her. Mike, Bobbi’s brother and she escorted everyone in there on the back of Mikes motorcycle. Driving the car behind her and seeing this brought back so many memories of our days flying in the wind. Seeing her smile, hands out stretched like a bird, told me she was on a natural high. Was great seeing her and Mike leaving the way. She also had a great week with her sister Chris. After the party her mother Betty took a fall and shattered her shoulder. After just getting over a hip replacement stairs can be a bit of a challenge and proved to be. We were all very fortunate to have been there when it happened. She’s 84 years old and one tough woman! Was hard to witness.

She met other cancer patients at the hospital at 8:15 every morning. Didn’t miss a day. The drive to Petoskey proceeded. It did her a world of good to connect with others fighting this unforgiving foe. A lot of hours and miles spent bonding. She said none of then talked about cancer. Each day someone brought a snack and they plowed ahead to get treated. She made some lifetime new friends. Her doing this with her younger brother Steve has been good for both of them.So proud of her. That page is now officially turned as of today, and we have sometime to enjoy part of the summer. Her hair is returning and is so soft and pretty. Has curls in it! She looks very attractive. It so nice to see her with the sparkle returning to her eyes.

4 more months of weekly chemotherapy after a few weeks off. It’s a lot. It won’t be easy, but when has it ever? I’m starting to see news signs of change and it’s beautiful. The 4 months going to Karmanos and she will be ringing the bell hanging on the wall there. Surrounded with the many who work there, and get treatment there. Their like family now. Always with a kind smile and words. They share pictures of their kinds and humor is always present. There are very serious moments of course, it is a hospital, but it’s like Norm walking into Cheers. Everyone is happy to see her. I stay back in the woodwork and just watch. Taking everything in.

It was time for a positive post. Cancer is terrible. It’s so far from being black in white. A lot of blurred lines. Yet you push on, knowing some days will suck. I often didn’t know what to say. Simply get her pillow, and the blanket Cinneidi made her and cuddle, knowing it would bring needed sleep to her. Often not saying anything. It’s great being able to gentle rub her hair again and knowing she’s sleeping.

A page has been turned. Eyes are wide open to life. We may never know if she is officially cancer free, doctors are hesitant to declare those words, but she is definitely a survivor. Yesterday is over for all of us! Be it good, bad, or just a lot of work. Now passed. Today is new. People often wonder if they’ll get through something. They can. Maybe not in leaps and bounds, sometimes you have to crawl through it, but you can. There are many distractions each day that try to rob and blind you from the good. We push ourselves, are hard on ourselves. We jump from one project to another. Which is good to a certain point. Just don’t let the years add up wishing for things you already have.

Suicide?

There’s been a lot in the news about it lately. The ultimate goodbye. Every second and every breathe to live is over. Final. There’s no more hurt, physically or emotionally. Done. The one thing they probably all desired is to literally rest in peace. A place never found while alive. Just wanting to be done with all of it. Being alive every 24-hours feels like a torture. The situation or event that caused such pain would be less painfully ending than it would be living.

Many can’t comprehend it. Questions are asked about why and how could someone do that. The human spirit fights with every breath to live. From the time our eyes first know light we are fighting to live it. Some question it when the person is famous and financially set. What problems could they possibly have? They had “everything”. To be alone and seriously making that decision is a face to face meeting with yourself. Do I do it? Or is life suddenly going to get better? Whats it going to be? Live or die?

I know for myself that life’s mountains get pretty damn high. I’m not afraid to say I’ve looked into this mirror. I’ve been able to believe in hope. I think if hope is gone, then life is really over. Some have small threads of hope in their hand, when it may be a rope. And some believe they have a thick rope but in reality it’s thin.

No person alive has “it made”. They are some more fortunate in the life they were born into or worked hard to achieve. Compared to lives struggling to put a roof over their head and knowing the sound of their child’s hunger. But money has nothing to do with the decision.

When I thought about it, really gave it a serious thought was when a sudden disease changed everything. An emergency quadruple open heart surgery led to unexpected complications. It took 3 years of battling, and 28 more less serious surgeries to follow that kicked my ass. I did everything I could to continue to live. Many a night not being sure if I would. The wires and beeping machines dropping fluids into my veins made me question it. I made peace with perhaps not waking up, but it was like I had no options. I had to be a peace with it. A higher power was in charge.

Things improved but life was no where easy for my wife Bobbi and I. We lived a simple and good life. Children, grandchildren, relatives, some good friends. Long work hours long, mortgages, the whole works. When my heart stopped working as it should, most of it, besides family and friends, changed. We thought we could handle anything life threw at us without worrying others. The more surgeries that took place the harder the fight became. We told each other we’d get through it. Bills poured in and slowly removed our life saving. Somehow or another it lead to a new day.

When alone with my thoughts a part of me was tired of physically struggling and swallowing the pain. Maybe it was time to check out? I didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. Until someone is in that position it’s hard for them to understand it. Pain makes death inviting. What kept me from checking out was Bobbi and the children. I couldn’t leave Bobbi in the midst of this hardship. I wasn’t ready to never see the ones I loved again. The moments before that ultimate final decision are lonely and silent.

Hope was not given up. Eventually there were more better days than bad. Then out of now where Bobbi is diagnosed with one of the worst cancers a person can get. Pancreatic cancer. Reality was again staring us in the face. What the hell kind of crap is this? What would our future look like in the next days, weeks, and months. My health issue I looked at as dice being tossed. Either it was going to beat me and if it not I had no intentions inviting it.

When Bobbi was diagnosed with her cancer, one which very few comeback from, it changed everything again. There was no way life was dishing out to us this reality. I knew that there was a reason I didn’t cash in my chips before, my wife needed me now more than any other time in her life. I would be with her throughout it all.

We decided to fight forward. I knew Bobbi had the spirit and fight but also knew what the statistics were. Not good. A period of shock was felt by everyone. Nobody was ready for this one. Was I about to lose my wife? The one person I’ve given everything to. Made every plan in the tomorrows with. I felt like I had no other reasons to live if she died. Then the thoughts of the children crept into my thoughts. The loss of both would be a nightmare. I don’t think like that anymore.

Bobbi has continued to battle. Months of chemotherapy. A major surgery, weeks upon weeks of daily radiation. Her weight peeled off her and her hair swirled around the shower drain. Daytime became night and night became day. Clocks were only good for reminding us of future battle days.

The rate people are committing suicide is alarming. In the last years more people have died from this than auto accidents. It doesn’t matter the amounts they have in a bank account are. The type of house they live in or what job they had. Death doesn’t care.

Why do people take their own life? We all feel sadness and despair for all kinds of different reasons at different times. They are far from trivial in what they are if such actions are attractive. Sometimes believe we’re not strong enough to deal with a situation that is known by the feelings of disparity. We are strong enough though.

I understand how heavy life can get. It truly can at times be a torturous existence. We may smile and pretend everything is alright but it’s only a charade. Every night your unsure if you are strongest enough for the day, and throughout the day your question how your ever going to do it. The thoughts get heavier and heavier.

It is an escape. It’s certain not a decision made in a moments time. I believe the first thoughts of it are in a mirror. The mental and emotional anguish that’s felt in our brain, or the physical toll our personal battle is fighting.

We owe it to ourselves, to others that love us unconditional, to tell another when it’s seriously being considered. Our worst days alive haven’t killed us yet so why not believe in just one more day trusting someone enough to talk? You never know how things may suddenly change. Give it one more second, one more hour, one more day.

The national hotline for help is 1-800- 273-8255. Globally, close to 800,000 people die due to suicide every year, which is about one person every 40 seconds, according to the World Health Organization. In 2015, more than 78% of those global suicides occurred in low- and middle-income countries.

Bobbi has finished 26 sessions of radiation as of today and we are excited to soon be finished. Another 4 months of chemo. We’re doing good and battling whatever life throws at us.

A Challenging Time

The last month of daily radiation and weekly chemotherapy has really taken a toll on Bobbi. A thousand miles a week where each day becomes longer and more draining. There isn’t a whole lot of joy taking place. This is really whipping her out. She calls it a night about 7:30 and begins the same preparations in the morning. She hasn’t had a decent night sleep since the surgery, getting up 3 to 4 times throughout for the bathroom.

It’s tough as hell to watch. She puts on a brave face and cheerful persona with others but I see the toll it’s taking. She shares with me how difficult this experience is. Will be so glad when September approaches. Our life consists of hospitals, doctors, pharmacies, needles, and highway signs. It’s hard trying to keep her spirits up when I’m angry having the one I love struggling. We thought after the Whipple we’d be done with the degree of hardship, but there just doesn’t seem to be an end to them. Bobbi has always done things at 100mph, and gets frustrated with herself after growing tired 5 minutes into a chore. Going on a year soon, and hopefully will turn the page on this chapter. Now mouth sores are developing. Recently had lab work done so hopefully they look alright.

Nobody promised life would be easy and fair, all of us have our mountains to climb. But damn! This is a tough cancer. She’s beating it but it’s taking everything she’s got and then some. Haven’t written in awhile, just going through the motions of living life. Thankful for family and friends love and support. We do find time to laugh and love, but there is an underlying struggle taking place that words really can’t describe. Nights of staying up thinking in the dark, where it’s quiet and calm, I try to make sense of things. Just have to keep pushing ahead. One more day, one more treatment, one more doctor.

Not really sure what to write. Numb from everything. I want her to get better so badly. Days of yesterday’s seem so far away. Having to learn how to live life at the moment is important. You really can’t get too far ahead with plans because we don’t know how she’ll be feeling when something is.

May 18th, 2018

Bobbi – Friday morning and it’s 5:00am, been up 2 hours already. Gotta love the pre-chemo steroid effect. Riding the radiation van has been interesting. The War Memorial Hospital here has a volunteer program where different drivers take people here from the Soo down to Petoskey for radiation. My younger brother Steve is receiving radiation too so the van makes a quick stop near Pickford to pick him up. Certainly feels surreal. We were born on the same day, three years a part, and now each are challenged with cancer.

Wednesday we had a quick ride to Petoskey, all green lights. Got to the hospital and when the elevator doors opened five of us had a quick stride so we could return sooner. I almost chuckled out loud… cancer peeps are a strange breed are we really jogging to get radiated? Thursday is chemo day as well. You know when they wear thick gloves, gowns, and mask and your IV infusion comes in a biohazard bag they’re not exactly sprinkling you with fairy dust. Will get a break from both for 2 weeks then it’ll be the home stretch. 4 additional months of chemo and done, at least that’s the plan. I really don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this if plans change.

May 30, 2018

These times seems endless. Each day that goes by is taking its toll. Just have to get through it I keep telling myself. Both of us keep battling. He rarely mentions his heart issues, is a good bluffer, but takes all of it in stride. Our primary family doctor is moving so we’ll be looking for another at the end of June. The third one since we’ve been up here. Really like the Doctor we have but she is moving to Grand Rapids.

Cancer has literally taken me to the doorstep of death. The great robbery, hair, body and often times strength. At one point I was so ill my breath was cold, my body emaciated. Yet somewhere in the depths of illness is a courage to forge forward. I refuse to surrender, a smile is contagious. Try it, it costs nothing. 10 more radiation treatments to go 20 completed. 5 of 6 chemo treatments done this cycle, for a total of 17 since last year. 28 total sessions by the time things are supposedly finished. Certainly feeling the effects. Successful Whipple surgery didn’t come free of side-effects. Up every morning at 3:00am using the restroom for the next 4 hours. Trying to tweak pancreatic enzymes, diet and still learning what’s tolerable. Sure didn’t sign up for this but we play the deck we are dealt. Days are long and challenging. Mike said give yourself permission to rest, I know he is right but it is foreign.

At least the weather is nice and my flowers are coming to life. Haven’t had much time to enjoy them but it’s pleasant when we sit out and relax. Just feeling so tired and whipped out all the time. Looking forward to seeing the kids this summer. Gotta keep on keeping on! Tomorrow is a chemo day so up early and on the road.

Tattoo

Thought it was time to update family and friends on the next set of plans in Bobbi’s battle. On April 25 we met with her oncologist Dr. C, and in Petoskey, at Karmanos. She was surprised to see her doing so well after the Whipple procedure close to 4 weeks ago. It was nice visiting with the team of nurses, social worker, all who’ve become friends. Bobbi was her positive and cheerful self. We anxiously waited to see what was coming next.

It was decided that it’d be best for her to undergo 6 weeks of daily radiation and chemotherapy once a a week, then 4 months of additional chemo to follow. We spent the night in Petoskey because we had to meet with the radiology professionals early in the morning. Karmanos is an amazing place to have this done. The social worker there presented us with a voucher for a hotel stay that night.

When we met with her radiology doctor he explained the process. Bobbi drank contrast dye, had a CAT scan, and the areas where it was to be administered was tattooed with three separate dots. One on each side of her midsection and one in the center. Appointments were set up to start this coming Thursday.

Twisty, the tumor in her pancreas was destroyed. But it was adhered to her portal vein. Cancer cells left on the portal vein was confirmed by pathology, which is why they are going to aggressively continue treatments.

Bobbi – “Appointments back to back. Wed met with Dr. Coppola to map out my future chemo. 6 weeks radiation with reduced strength Gemzar 1 week x3 then week off with radiation mon-fri. Then 4 cycles gemzar full strength. Well so much for an optimistic 2 months chemo, but now it’ll take us to probably Labor Day. When does it flipping end? Where does the human spirit find the energy to keep going? The well is pretty damn deep and if I hollered down it an echo would surely sound. Thursday I met my radiation oncologist, very nice doctor. Kind and thorough, making sure our concerns were addressed. Pretty sure he is about Sean’s age or younger. After meeting was given contrast dye to drink and IV access for more contrast then off to CT to get my dot tattoos marking the spots for radiation. Hmmm a permanent reminder of my cancer journey, like I needed anything in permanent ink to remind me that I have cancer. I had to bite my lip! They stung!

The next six weeks ought to be interesting. We’ll be riding the Road to Recovery bus, a program the War Memorial Hospital has here in the Soo, with others getting radiation. It leaves each morning and arrives back later in the afternoon.

Mike shared with me a good insight in looking at all this coming up, because it’s discouraging to now have to endure the upcoming daily radiation, and months more of chemo. It’s depressing. He compared the start of this new journey as the last one. When there is a major storm you look at outside and still the destruction taking place and question how in the heck your going to survive it, rebuild, endure. You wonder where your going to find the energy and positive attitude it’s going to take to get through it. Yet, when you venture out after, take things one day at a time, things slowly look better. Not at once, not without hardship, but you survive. Going into the first rounds of chemo, the Whipple, felt like this. There were many WTF moments! It’s taking awhile for my digestive system to heal. I’m on a medication named Creon to help the pancreas break down food better. What type of foods that can be handled is still a hit or miss type of thing.

Thought after the Whipple there’d be less of a battle. Doctor C said she wasn’t going to BS me in saying this would be easy. And we know it won’t. Yet I know I’m going to beat this. Didn’t know how or when in the beginning, but we did. Don’t know how or when we will now, but know we will! It just gets so exhausting digging deep and finding the energy it takes to fight this cancer. We talk a lot, he gives me pep talks when down. I know it’s been difficult on him emotionally and physically but he keeps on going and is the glue of this crazy experience. Everyone’s support and love has played an important part. I’m glad he stayed on me about trying to write what feelings are taking place. It’s helped a lot. Doing good and have to remember we’re only 4 weeks out of surgery. Today was spent digging in my garden and getting hands dirty. A place where I forget about what’s taking place. Wasn’t sure if there’d be a garden this year some months back! Onward we go, Thursday chemo and first radiation treatment. Adds up to about 7500 miles of traveling the next 5 months. Glad it’s not winter!

While we drove to see brother Steve on Sunday we seen hundreds of Sand Hill Crane birds in a farmers field. It was amazing. When different wildlife cross our path I often look up the message to see what they symbolize. This is what was written – “Here in the center of the storm you can see the vortex surrounding you, the vortex is the field of your unharnessed emotions, fears, pain and stored trauma where you can feel lost and overwhelmed and not know how to find your way out.  At the core of all storms is the eye, it is where you see the light has broken through the clouds, this is where the calm waters give safety.  It is here that you have perfect clarity and can see the overriding power of your emotions surrounding you.”

Kind of feels this way right now. A few months off chemo has brought a lot of clarity to everything. After all this the butterfly will soar!”

Bobbi’s View: A Second Chance

DSC07672It’s March 26th, a day before surgery. We packed our little Prius last night and we’re ready to go on the 5 hour car ride to Grand Rapids. We first stopped at Mercy hospital, getting typed and cross matched for 2 units of blood. Then registered at the Hope Lodge. It was a quiet ride, blue skies and dry roads thank god. The only storm brewing were the thoughts in my head. The Whipple surgery is going to take all day and finally will remove the tumor from my pancreas. I’m glad I’ll be sleeping through this ordeal, if it goes bad I’ll be unaware. My thoughts are with my husband Mike and our kids and grandchildren, and of course family. My sisters and their husbands are also waiting. I knew what to expect, have been in operating rooms since I was old enough to get a job. Working from my 20’s to my 60’s in them while living in Wisconsin. My close friend, having succumbed to pancreatic cancer post Whipple, was on my mind. Lucy and her battle with cancer made me try harder while preparing for the surgery. Positioning ones mind is the real battle, to not let it’s ability to rob you of moments at insecure times. Also on my mind was my brother Steve, who’s also fighting cancer, was undergo a serious surgery himself in a couple of days.

In the morning up early sitting in dining room. This could be it. There was a chance that I wouldn’t make it out alive. I tried not to think about that. Mike and I trained a month for this and I was ready to get Twisty the heck out of me! What a wonderful place this was to find peace and serenity during the worst storm of our lives. I can see the hospital parking lot from the window. It’s pouring rain and chilly outside. I finish off the last of my GED drink (some special surgical post recovery drink). If it’s good for you chances are it will taste bad. One hour before arrival time and all is quiet. I feel strong time for twisty to surrender. I sat for a bit then went back to our room. We slowly (Mike and Sean and I) proceeded to the hospital. Registered, had copies of advanced directives made in the event things didn’t go as planned. Gown on, IV in, SCD stockings on, lying on hospital cart awaiting anesthesia to place art line and do abdominal block. After everything was done family came into pre-surgical room to visit. 6 of them in all. Took great peace in the fact Mike was rubbing my head and hand as he always does. He knows how to soothe me in times of hurt. I would look at him and he’d just wink, we didn’t need words. We knew each other’s thoughts. Dr. Onesti came in and said a prayer with family. It was calming. Off I went. I recall little after that. Mike received text messages throughout the 6 hour operation.

The next few days were a blur. Hooked up to different monitors, a pain pump (which I only used once), and hospital staff coming and going endlessly. All I wanted was sleep. I was told everything went extremely well.

When things calmed down I was up walking and soon sitting in a comfortable chair. The nurses were all amazing! Family visited, a good friend I grew up with also stopped in to see me. I felt like I had been cut in half. Which, by looking at the 13 inch incision, wasn’t too far off from being true! Sean and Mike took turns sitting by my bed throughout the day. Each day the surgeon stopped in she was amazed at how things were going. Slowly went from clear liquids to soft foods. Very small amounts. At first nothing stayed down. More walks. I pushed myself with each one. I watched and remembered how Mike did the same during his hospital stays for his heart battles and it helped me do the same.

Before I knew it, after only 3 days I was cleared to be released! Unbelievable! Since the Hope Lodge was across the street if anything went bad I was but a short distance away. Plans were to stay for a week after the surgery then see the surgeon before returning home to Sault Ste. Marie. At the meeting we’d go over the final pathology reports. Having our son Sean with us was comforting. I knew this entire experience was tough on him, as it was for everyone, but especially him being my son. He told me he had no idea how he’d be able to handle funerals for both his parents at the same time. Mike’s because he knew he’d soon follow from his heart challenge, it’d simply be too much on it if I didn’t make it. I didn’t even know what to say back. I couldn’t image what that’d be like. Mike’s his stepdad but the two are as close as blood. Thank God things went well!

We spent the week resting, watching CD’s from the huge selection here, playing pool, and taking walks inside and outdoors. We also spent a lot of time laughing and enjoying each other’s company. We had many meals together, though mine were different than the mens. A few nights were tough and I was sick. The two worked like a team helping me get through them. Put together puzzles in the huge dinning room too. In addition traveled to see my sister Chrissy and her husband, niece and her young children. It was a wonderful time. Mikes usually very quiet and it was nice seeing him relaxed and talking. Though he looked drained and exhausted. For the first I feel like I’ve been given a second chance at life. I plan on taking full advantage of it!

We learned about this place, appropriate called the “Peter M. Wege Guest House Hope Lodge” from the hospital next door. It was literally across the street from It and the Lacks Cancer Center. The best way to describe it is to quote what the website shares. (https://www.cancer.org/treatment/support-programs-and-services/patient-lodging/hope-lodge.html)

“Each Hope Lodge offers cancer patients and their caregivers a free place to stay when their best hope for effective treatment may be in another city. Not having to worry about where to stay or how to pay for lodging allows guests to focus on getting better. Hope Lodge provides a nurturing, home-like environment where guests can retreat to private rooms or connect with others. Every Hope Lodge also offers a variety of resources and information about cancer and how best to fight the disease.”

The experience here is like being in the calm of the eye of a hurricane. It feels like a real home. We’ve met other survivors battling their illness, staff and volunteers who shared their personal stories and battles. It was empowering walking into the doors of this beautiful and recently remodeled building after such an emotional and physically draining operation. Always being met with a kind smile and greeting.

We can’t thank the American Cancer Society enough for this. Thank you. Before my diagnosis we hadn’t a clue how we’d get through it. It was extremely scary and unsettling. After 25 hospitalizations and 19 stents, radiation, EECP, with Mike, the last place we wanted to be was in more hospitals.

On Monday we met with the surgeon, Doctor Onesti. All the pathology reports were completed. The tumor had adhered to the portal vein and some cancer cells remained on it. Plans were to undergo radiation for 5 weeks, daily, and 2 additional months of chemotherapy to whip them out (next appointment in Petoskey is April 25-26). Everything else looked great. Don’t know how I’ll find the energy to heal and be ready for this next step but I will. At least Twisty is out of me and beaten down. I am very grateful and so far lucky. Through the grace of God, prayers, positive attitude and love this journey will continue for a bit. Have put on this post different pictures. Thank you for the support, love, and thoughtful cards that filled our mailbox! We’re going to have one heck of a party in Wisconsin when this is but a memory.

Different photos of the Hope Lodge –

Home

We returned home on the Monday evening, after 2 weeks in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Bobbi is healing excellently. The Whipple procedure went very well. Having Sean here has been a big help! The stay at the Hope Lodge, which we’ll be featuring in the next post was amazing.

We met with her surgeon before returning home and she explained what the results of all the pathology were. Here pancreatic tumor was beaten down to the size of a grape from the intense chemotherapy regiment, and removed. It once was the size of a walnut. 29 lymph nodes were taken out, all negative for cancer cells.

The tumor was stuck to her portal vein so there are a couple of cancer cells still adhered to it. Bobbi will now undergo 2-3 more months of chemotherapy, in addition to 5 weeks of daily radiation to whip these out. This will take place 4 to 6 weeks from now. The procedures will take place in Petoskey again. Her surgeon is an amazing doctor and she called Bobbi her “Rockstar”.

Intake of food is a hit and miss type of experience. Some cause nausea and doesn’t stay down, but considering the type of operation this isn’t unusual the surgeon said. It’ll be awhile before things settle. Her diabetes has improved since the operation. On Sunday we visited with her sister Chrissy and her husband Jeff. It was a well needed visit! It was nice to get away and enjoy their company. We also had an opportunity to visit with her niece and her kids! It was a cheerful time. When Bobbi became tired we returned to the Lodge and went to bed early.

We are feeling optimistic about everything. Today I went shopping for nutritional soft foods, supplements, and called her cancer team in Petoskey. Her appointment there will be on April 25th. Will be a consultation visit and to set up appointments for the future.

When we got home cards from friends filled the mailbox! Thank you! She is doing well, sleeping right now, but we’re slowly getting back into the groove of things. I can’t express enough how helpful it’s been to have Sean here! There were a lot of positive things that took place and having him here with us has definitely been one! Steve, Bobbi’s brother, also underwent major surgery for cancer a couple days after hers and is home now too. What a couple weeks of unsteady waters.

We are feeling very grateful for everything and everybody. The next couple of months will be challenging but it is what it is. Got to roll with the great news, think positive, get rest, and take on the next pitch. Told her we’ll be home soon and that’s where we are now! Home!

Surgery Today

Went to hospital for Bobbi to register at 7:30. Sean came with us. Jim, lori, Jeff and Chrissy soon arrived. At 8:30 they took her back to prep then allowed us to visit with her for an hour. Bobbi was cheerful and hiding her real emotions behind humor.

We’d look at each other and had a hard time not tearing up at the same time. Monitors were hooked up, wires, things I had no idea what they were. As she visited I simply rubbed the side of her head where new hair was starting. We spoke the same language to each other with our eyes. I remained quiet, taking in everything that was going on. Wanted her to spend the time with her family and son. The surgeon came in and explained what was going to take place, said a prayer around the bed. I was as at a loss for words. The journey has been hell and she has fault so hard to live and never balked this entire time with countless trips of chemo and pre-operative instructions. She truly is a warrior. The week leading up to this was difficult. Having the kids visit helped a lot. Now everything is resting on text messages that the surgical room is sending letting me know what’s going on.

The first text said the surgery begin at 11:18. The first thing the surgeon is doing is checking her liver out to doubly make sure there are no tumors. Then the procedure will take place.

Second text at 12:11 said no spots on liver. Surgery is continued.

I’m in the hospital chapel as I write this. The next thing I knew 5 or 6 people came in and a service began. Lasted about 20 minutes. Didn’t know when to stand, sit, kneel, or what to say back as it seemed everyone said the same thing by memory at certain times. Respectfully tried to do the same. With Easter this Sunday I think it was in relation to it. Pastor talked about Judas.

All of this feels surreal right now. My every thought is on Bobbi and flashbacks of simpler times. I’m so fortunate to have our paths cross 25 years ago. This experience has brought us closer in a million ways. About 80 minutes have passed and still quite a long wait to go.

Going to get something to eat now, meet back up with everyone. Know many are praying for her and in their thoughts. Many well wishes received this morning. A very touching one was sent by her nephew Cole. It meant a great deal to both of us.

5:51pm – Surgery is done. A complete success. All areas around were clean. Portal vein area inflamed. No ICU unit. Will be up and talking in 2 hours. Will be taking it easy today with rest, tomorrow walking. Good 3 to 4 days with drains. Everything that had to go right went right. Thank God. Twisty is gone. 100% successful! Not out of the woods yet but certainly see the trail and sunlight. Back in the chapel giving thanks. Thank you to everyone. When the going got tough you helped her in ways no others could!

Update March 28, 2018

Doing better than expected. Numbers all look good. No complications. Walking a lot, trying to do everything herself with no help but you know how she is! Miss. determination woman. Watching her sleep today was nice. She had a calm look that I haven’t seen in a long time. Family was here visiting and a good friend she grew up with. So glad Twisty had its ass kicked and out of there. Will continue to update this post with news. Thank you for the love and messages here on and on Facebook. She’ll have a few more months of chemotherapy when healed. Not sure what cocktail blend or type, all that will be decided later I’m sure.

March 31, 2018,

Sean and I went to the hospital yesterday morning and quickly learned that she was cleared to leave! Unbelievable. 70 some hours after surgery and she walks out the door. Last night she walked the hallways here at the Lodge and watched CD movies available from their large selection in a study room.

About 5:00am I woke to find her out of bed and sitting in the recliner. Asked her how long she’d been up and she said only a few minutes! Somehow or another I just knew she wasn’t in bed.

Today her sister Chrissy visited and spent some good quality time together. Sean went to Meijers food market and stocked up with soft foods. Bobbi also decided to tackle 3 sets of stairs! I was like….WTF? Seriously? It felt so good to sleep together. We have nothing planned for the next week. We leave Grand Rapids in 9 days after seeing her surgeon for follow up visit. Things are going very well. She is getting up and down like nothing took place.

 

Time to Battle!

 The last 5 months everyone stopped worrying about the original pancreas tumor and concentrated on the liver spots that developed over the same period of time. Three out five doctors said they “felt” and “believed” that her cancer had turned metastatic, though couldn’t be sure. Spots were too small for biopsy. They were going on the facts that were present and small because they were responding to the 13 chemotherapy treatments. Just last week they told her she’d be on chemo rest of her life.

Out of the blue the phone rang today from her surgeon in Grand Rapids, said the whipple was back on the table. We really have no idea whats going on. Five months of going back and forth, surgery on, surgery off, to surgery now back on has left us grabbing at straws. The surgeon said that she would first have to go 4 to 5 weeks without chemo in order to handle the surgery. What???

What a rollercoaster. The surgery is no guarantee that the cancer won’t spread (if it hasn’t already…why the sudden liver spots that responded to treatments?). Its a major surgery. Does she endure this only to learn it already had spread? Why the sudden change of now the surgery being on the table? because the liver spots shrunk, which they are suppose to do while on chemo? Does this mean it stopped from spreading? All questions the best minds in the field have no exact answers for. But what the heck, do the surgery and shake the dice and make a bet on the odds? Which aren’t that good to start with. When do you look at quality of life over quantity? The chemo has her barely able to walk, the whipple has a high rate of the cancer recurring anyways, but then with new complications from that.

Simply not sure what to think of at this time. Which is bullshit considering it was last fall she was diagnosed. They say there is a gray area with cancer, its not black and white. Well there sure is a black and white picture between life and death. Is there too many chefs stirring the soup? We’ve put on over 10,000 miles trying to get answers that all come back with yes, she has pancreatic cancer, but unsure about everything else because the chemotherapy is doing its job at keeping the other spots in an unsure picture. We’re going to talk with family an go from there.

Late Tuesday night – After spending the last 8 hours talking, going over every possible scenario we’ve come to a decision. It’s time to bring the fight to the cancer while this little door is open. There is a little light at the end of the tunnel and we can’t spend our time worrying about it now caving in! We’ve gone this far to quit now. Yes, we’re filled with diagnosis that the professionals may or may not have given the most accurate information. Lived with the unknown for months, traveled many miles, but it’s time now to swing for the fence and get Twisty the hell out of there. If the CT scan looks good in 4 weeks Bobbi is going to go through with the surgery. The evening was spent looking over every paperwork timeline and statistics. Some good, some not so good. Maybe it’s spread, maybe it hasn’t. No one is for sure but the window of opportunity has cracked open a millimeter and we’re going to give it everything we got to bring the fight to this monster. It’s a huge surgery. Pictures on the Internet look like people have been cut in half and restitched. Possibilities of complications many. Past friends haven’t faired to well after the same procedures. Her past medical surgeries in her abdominal will make it more risky. Her diabetes the same.

The alternative is chemotherapy for life, until the disease overpowers it. But you know what? We knew this would be a real fight and fighters we are. It took a bit to layout the facts and encouragement. A pep talk of facts and how I know how strong her spirit is. But it is ON! Would have been so easy to say to heck with it, it’s going to win eventually so why fight so hard. But that’s not who we are. Are we scared and apprehensive? Hell yes! But you get no where in life sitting back and waiting for things to come to you. Singing the blues is okay too…for awhile. But it’s time to suit up, put the biggest bat in our hands, and stomp this demon into dust. We trust the surgeon. She’s performed over 80 of the operations. The hospital is one of the best. If she and her team feels like they can do this, and it’s the best chance at extending her life, with quality, then it will be. I want to see her walk the beach with her sisters, laugh and love her son and Jen. To see her daughter Shay continue to rock this world with her adventures!Sit around campfires with her brothers and plant flowers with her mother. Spend time with friends, love and embrace her grandchildren. If this is the only opportunity we have to see these things happen then it’s time to battle. The next few weeks these writing will go silent. I personally have to help get my wife physically and emotionally ready for this fight. As far as past liver spots, what some doctors shared in what they “think” it may be, there was also a lot going on at the time with her bile duct stent becoming dislodged, 300 count blood sugar numbers, that may have inflamed things. Maybe the spots went down because her family doctor finally got her blood sugars into normal ranges. All we know is that the window of opportunity may not remain open for that long. There is a lot of fight in this woman, like I’ve never seen in another female or male. I’m going to be by her side every second, every minute. I’m ready for this. She’s ready for this. It’s now time to prepare, exercise, and get her in the best condition she can be in. Thank you again for all the support and love shown by many throughout all of it. We got this! Surgery is tentatively scheduled for March 27th. Will keep everyone updated throughout it.

Bobbi – The word cancer has a way of consuming thoughts. How does one position these thoughts? The brain is a remarkable thing when compartmentalizing of information.

When do you take control of cancer? Is there such a thing? Control is taken when it is not the first thing you think of in the morning nor your last thought at night. Inner strength where the hell does one get this? There are empowering moments on the cancer ride. Sometimes we make decisions and take control when we have no idea it’s being done. From personal experience, I just knew what made me feel stronger. Hair clippers in hand when my thick long hair was circling the drain. Only a couple of tears were shed with the first swipe of the clippers blade. I trusted my husband to shave an even bald look. Better yet we were going bald as a couple. My husband Mike was shaving his head too. Tried talking him out of it but no chance. It was my way of not letting cancer take the of my last hair. If it’s going I’m taking it myself.

Chemo with Abraxane and Gemzar weekly infusion 3 weeks on one week off. Hate the infusions but love the people. The nurses at Karmonos in Petoskey are wonderful. Know what to expect. A couple of good days after steroid and chemo then the crash. I feel myself weaker with each infusion. Neuropathy in hands and feet. It’s like trying to pick up a quarter with an oven mitt. My feet feel like dog paws, under the toes it feels like swollen pads.

I refuse to nap… if cancer is going to take me come and get me awake coward. My journey has not been normal, or maybe it has? Was told I had Mets by three different doctors, that chemo would be indefinitely. Told that surgery wasn’t an option. I then positioned my thinking to this is my fate, questioning how I’ll do chemo indefinitly. It literally sucks the life out of me. At what point do I concede and quit treatments? I knew it was getting close to this decision last CT done. When I’m feeling the weakest (after the 13th treatment) suddenly out of the blue the surgeon calls and says the whipple surgery is back on. How do I pull this one from the depths of my mind? I had to find the strength somewhere.

I put my boots on and walked around the parking lot, down the street and up and down stairs for the next 4 weeks. Gradually it went from 100 feet to 200. Then 30 steps to 300. My hair was returning and my attitude improving. They were telling me I had a chance to live longer than a couple of months. I was preparing myself for the upcoming battle.”

Grand Rapids

IMG_2005September 12, 2017
What a busy week. On Labor Day we packed the car and preceded to Grand Rapids, Mercy Hospital. Bobbi had her CAT done but hadn’t received any information on it yet. Her cancer team in Grand Rapids told us about the “Hope Lodge” a block away from the hospital. It cost nothing to stay there, sponsored by the American Cancer Society. I thought no way. We were a long ways from home and had no idea how we’d afford the journey. Like millions of other families we lived month to month on her social security. I was prepared to simply sleep in the car at night. Wasn’t a big deal. The big deal was what was taking place inside my wife’s body.

The hospital first wanted us there on a Tuesday for a imaging test called EUS for staging of the cancer. This would provide the information that haunted us. The test was completed and the next few days until Friday seemed like an eternity of time. The Hope Lodge was extremely comforting. Everyone there was fighting cancer and were battlers. It felt surreal walking into the doors. A kind lady named Stacy greeted us at the door and took us on a tour. There was a exercise room, reading room, billiards table, and a huge kitchen area for meals. The rooms were nice and very clean. What more could one wish for during this tense time? Guests were able to cook meals. Refrigerators were assigned to each family and one room had shelves stocked with different foods from the kindness of others. We can’t say enough good about this place. Everyone was kind and supportive. Meeting other cancer patients was good. Learning of their own personal battles helped a lot. We certainly all have our mountains to climb. She and her sister Chrissy, who lived about 45 minutes away went out together for the day on Thursday. The visit picked up her spirits and helped pass the time before the meeting. The wait was torture for us. Bobbi was experiencing nausea and stomach pain. The nights were long. Shay is going to school in Australia, which is a 12 hours time difference so it was nice messaging with her in the deep of it. During the day we did the same with Sean and Jen, in addition to Bobbi’s siblings. Each helped us a great deal. Everyone was concerned and supportive. What a situation our family was suddenly confronted with.

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On Friday we met with her main doctor, a lady named Jill. She explained the results of the different tests and what our options were. The tumor was located on the top of her pancreas, which was more positive than in other areas. Because it was in this area, blocking her gallbladder duct, Bobbi’s body showed that there was something wrong. The change in skin color, the nausea, the blood sugar numbers bouncing all over the place, not to mention the weight loss. All symptoms that told her to get in and see our doctor. Some people dealing with this type of cancer get little advanced warning. Which in turn makes it more difficult to catch and treat. The CAT scan showed no spreading of the disease. The best course of action would be chemotherapy and then a surgery named ‘whipple’. The goal was to shrink the tumor and stop any cells from spreading, and when it was safe to surgically remove it. We’d began with 2 months of chemo, have another CAT scan, and see if it did in fact shrink the tumor. If so a month would be needed for all the chemo to leave her body and surgery. A major surgery. After this more chemo. A total of six months. Once each week, for three weeks in a row and then a week off. The chemo treatments will take place in Petoskey, Michigan. About an hour and 45 minutes away. On the way home we stopped at Lori’s and Jim’s house for a couple of days. Could think of no better place to shelter us from the storm. She’s close with everyone in her family. Mike and Steve, her younger brothers, and Lori and Chrissy her younger sisters. her father passed away some years back, of cancer, and that is still fresh in everyones minds and heart. Her mother, Betty,  are close as well. Its been a very emotional three weeks for everyone.

First a port will be placed into her chest. This is a tube where the Chemo will be dripped into. We are waiting for the local hospital here in the Soo to call us on the date. On Friday we travel to Petoskey for our first consultation visit, in just a few days.

On Sunday we talked with Sean and Jen. They had told the grandkids. We were waiting until we learned more on the battle plan. It must have been a difficult meeting to have. We are a close family and just the word cancer is scary. We made a short video to show them a visual that things were well, and followed up their talk with a FaceTime call. You want to protect the people you love from worry and stress, but at the same time its important to have the children know that this battle will take place and that we are going to beat it. We have some good things in our favor. Catching it early and the location where it the tumor was discovered. We aren’t out of the woods in any fashion. Its going to be a long and tough road. Bobbi’s attitude throughout this has been amazing. There are moments of unsureness, but they’re talked through and discussed. We could sit back and just cry and let the sorrow drain us, or we can put on the armor and get ready for the fight. Jen sent us lots of oils and her mother Carol sent us lots of reading on holistic information. We’re very close with her parents. Every holiday was spent together while living in Wisconsin. Bobbi has chosen to only share the news with a few friends there as well. She doesn’t want people to worry or feel sorry for her. Which I get 100 percent. People will learn in time I’m sure. But right now its a family matter and all our energy is being spent in preparing for the chemo and surgery. Getting our ducks in a roll with insurance coverage and so forth. We’re on medicaid so lots of pre-authorizations and phone calls are being made.

We are choosing to believe that we can and WILL beat this. There is no room for doubt. I can’t began to imagine whats going on in her mind. This is the strongest woman Ive ever met, whose taking on a battle that is going to be beaten. We now have the facts, the battle plan, and now waiting on the first treatment. In the meantime its important to get as many calories into her system as possible. There have been some rough spots of sickness throughout the day and night. Its such a helpless feeling wanting to spare her the pains and be unable. I’ve dealt with over 25 hospitalizations the last 6 years with heart issues. A failed quadruple bypass surgery, and 19 stents put into my heart. Everything medically that can be done has finished. I’m on palliative care for comfort. My battle may help her in knowing that we can do anything we put our minds to. We each look at life differently than just a few weeks ago.