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!

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.”

Is Twisty Hiding in the Shadow?

We drove down for the liver biopsy last night, checked into a hotel a block from the hospital, and went out for a nice supper. The surgeon told us last week there were a number of new spots on Bobbi’s liver and the biopsy would provide us whether or not there’d even be a surgery. Showed up on time, she was prepped, blood taken, and we waited for the procedure to be done. Thinking positive the whole time but preparing ourselves for grim news.

We weren’t  expecting  a Christmas miracle, if Twisty isn’t just hiding in some small cell we’d be lucky.  There wasn’t a spot to be seen. Strange. She moved into different positions on the CT and still nothing. A different hospital than the first imaging was done. All week long Bobbi has lived with the thoughts that her cancer has spread. Trying to stay positive but even the surgeon, going on the films they had, thought it had spread. When they said there was nothing to biopsy we about ran out of the hospital. I wondered if the beast is watching in the shadow. Damn thing.

Don’t know how, why, or anything in why one place said there was and then another saying all was good. Elated for the good news but also a bit angry that she, and the whole family, had to spend the last eight days mentally preparing for the worst news possible. It was fighting Twisty and having it suddenly becoming a dozen of them. I don’t trust this monster. It makes a horror show mage in Hollywood boring. It’s the stranger in the dark.

We’re unsure what the next step will be. Calls have been made and we’re thinking the original planned Whipple surgery will be next. Get the tumor out of her pancreas and follow it up with 4 months of chemo. Knew it was too early to step out of the batters box. Knew we had to stay and think positive, which we did, but things certainly didn’t look good. Onward with this battle, there will be no rest until Twisty has been destroyed. It’s still inside her and it’s shown to be crafty and deceiving. It felt like Bobbi was walking the Green Mile, going to be strapped into the electric chair, and the phone ringing at the last 5 seconds before the switch was flicked given a full pardon. Each day dreading waking up because it was the first thing on both our minds.

The “You are Loved” party in Wisconsin took place and really brought a smile to Bobbi’s heart! Was so happy to see her having fun talking with so many.  It was so good to see her laugh and smile, even in the midst of unsureness in severity. We FaceTimed with everyone and seeing people dancing and wishing her well, missing and loving her, can’t be described in words. Now with this good news she is riding a well deserved wave of happiness. Yes, a major surgery isn’t a great thing thing to look forward to, but knowing that she’s still in the fight is a blessing. Thank you to everyone who took part in this, as well as the support and prayers of others across the globe. It has become a global support. People we’ve never met in person, from Wales, England, Italy, Mexico, and new blogging friends here have been unbelievable. Never imagined that so many would take the time to lend their support, recommendations in getting second opinions, prayers, gifts, all of it! I look back on how we dealt with this last week, look at the goofy video made doing the coneheads skit on the last post, and I’m more convinced than ever that positive thoughts and energy make a huge difference in today and the reality each day brings. There will undoubtedly be more fastballs coming. Not today so will embrace it. She WILL beat this. There is fear but no compromises. It will and hasn’t effected our celebration of Christmas. It’s wanted to! The mental anguish has been the toughest it’s ever been this last week. One I wasn’t sure I’d personally be able to endure physically. But just when your at the edge and brink of despair there is always hope. A simple for letter word that now has so many meanings.

Thank you for the read. Very much appreciated. We couldn’t have the attitude we have without it. Never give up! Pick up the bat no matter how heavy it may seem or how bad the last pitch hurt smashing you in the head and swing away. We all have this ability. May not feel like it at times, but when push comes to shove we learn things about ourselves we never knew existed. Until the next writings please embrace today and try to find the good in it. Hard to do when physical pain wants to be boss. All of us are human and will have these times. Hard to put one foot in front of the other while our bodies and thoughts are saying no more.

There really is no description in believing, even being told, that the cancer has spread to there not being a single spot. The doctor said it might have been inflammation from her first bile stent becoming dislodged. Not going to lift our foot off Twisty’s neck, it’s going down! Going to continue to think positive, make goofy videos, and move forward. When dealing with cancer it’s rare to get good news. It certainly was a relief to learn this good news in the midst of this battle.

UPDATE 12/14/17 – Plans now, after several phone calls between Petoskey and Grand Rapids this morning, is to have 2 more months of chemotherapy and then another scan to see if spots reappear. They’re being cautious and before they do the Whipple procedure. Which makes sense yet knowing the tumor in her pancreas is still there is naturally worrisome. It is what it is and all the worry in the world won’t change anything. We’ll continue to take things day to day and keep swinging at the pitches. Waiting now to see when the chemotherapy will resume. It’s not a set back. Feels like one, because their not really “sure” and I expect things to be in black and white with no in between. All I can do is be supportive and remain strong for her.

You are Loved

The anticipated CT scan took place as planned. Bobbi stopped by the hospital a few days early to have labs done and picked up two bottles of contrast dye she drank before the test. The label on the bottles said they were like a vanilla flavored smoothie but Bobbi shook her head with disgust drinking them down. A long ways from a smoothie she said. They then placed an IV in her arm. Why they continue to stick needles in her, for blood work, IV’s, and such when she has a port confuses both of us. Use it!

Two days later we were back on the road to Petoskey to go over the scan with the doctor. First seeing the nurse, who took vitals and her weight. Then about 45 minutes alone waiting to see the doctor. Usually it’s only five minutes or less after meeting with the nurse. When he came in he explained that the scan hadn’t arrived but the preliminary report did.

He said that everything that could go right went right. The tumor shrank to 3 to 4 millimeters. We were elated. Wow! It went from 3-4 centimeters to millimeters! What we didn’t catch at the time was that he was talking about a tumor present in the liver. Not the one in her pancreas. When he mentioned liver I told him we knew nothing about a spot on Bobbi’s liver. This was the first time even hearing about this. Something didn’t make sense or add up. WTF? When asked about the tumor in the pancreas and it being butted against her portal vein he said the report only detailed the liver. We thought that it must be good news if it went down, the chemo was working, because it wasn’t even mentioned. He asked what plans the surgeon had and we explained that a Whipple was the next step. He said that he didn’t know what criteria the surgeon wanted but perhaps no surgery at all. The tumor had shrunk so much maybe more sessions of chemo? That would be great!

We left the meeting feeling elated, everything that could go right went right he 0said. This was good news right?Though in the back of my mind red flags went up. We text family and relayed the good news. We drove back excited that there was a chance no surgery would take place. Bobbi wanted to celebrate getting a cream puff. There was a bakery across the street from the hospital so we made a quick stop. No cream puffs, she settled for something else.

On the drive home things simply didn’t add up right in my mind. I didn’t want to say anything and wreck the good mood by questioning things. Everything that could go right went right we were told. This must mean what it implied.

After we got home we sat down and read a copy of the report. It gave a detailed summary on the tumor. Problem was that it was a new tumor we didn’t even know existed before today. When it got to the pancreas the report said that the known mass there had poor detail imaging. That was it. One sentence on Twisty. We googled all the medical jargon that the report was written in and learned the tumor he spoke of was in fact in the liver. There were also spots on her lungs but they did appear to be cancer related. Which is what we’re being told today.

Maybe it was scaring from the result of her bile duct problem? The tumor in her pancreas had blocked it, which lead to the jaundice and then her cancer diagnosis in August. A temporary plastic one was placed in the duct to relieve pressure. This fell out about five weeks later and was replaced with a metal one. So maybe it was a spot on the liver from this? Had to be. We would know more when the surgeon calls us from Grand Rapids after they receive the actual imaging. Knew it would take a couple days.

We lived by the phone, waiting to hear from her surgeon. When Friday arrived every thought was on the phone ringing. What a situation. To live your entire life, to suddenly be waiting for a 5-10 minute phone call that would change it forever. The hours passed with no news. At about 4:00 it rang. It was the surgeon. She explained to us that the imaging did arrive late in the day, but because it was a Friday her team wouldn’t be able to read everything, compare them to past scans until Monday. She said she wanted to call us and at least inform us that things did arrive, knowing we were very concerned. Monday? Seriously? I understood why, but it seemed like years until then.

So we waited, determined not to worry and spent the weekend watching TV, cleaning the apartment, talking and finding things to laugh about. Attitude is important and I know how to get her to laugh. We each said we were having bad hair days in the morning. Both being bald made this impossible of course. But it lighten the mood. Bobbi’s energy returned and she was busy as ever going about the day. On Sunday we drove over to see her brother Mike and spent most the time laughing and having a good time. Her family are really good people. We have our moments like any family, but who doesn’t. Situations are dealt with and moved on. One can’t help but leave in a good mood after spending time with him.

On Monday morning Bobbi went with her mother Betty to a doctors appointment for a hip problem that’s been causing her a lot of pain. Which again shows you the type of woman she is. We are waiting for a phone call, that will change her life, one direction or another, and she makes it a point to still take her mother to the doctor. It’s one of the reasons I love her so much. She has always puts others first, with no hesitation.

When she got home we sat on the couch and waited. The hours passed slow. Around 4:55 the phone rang. The called ID said it was from Grand Rapids. It was her surgeon. The call took the wind out of both of us.

The doctor said that her team looked over everything and she was highly concerned about “spots” on her liver (more than one). We asked if it could be related to the bile duct problems from the stenting and she replied that they considered this but some spots were definitely unrelated to that. There were spots that didn’t show up in her scan in August, which were present now. Her scan in October, when she had the metal stent put in showed them, but nobody informed us, assuming we most have been aware of it already. It was the hospital here in the Soo who did the scan in October and they had no idea what we knew and didn’t know. I think the hospital figured we were informed already. Surgeon said the the liver tumor started out about 14 millimeters. Chemo shrank it. Bobbi asked her point blank if it meant her cancer is metastatic, has spread, their was a moment of silence, and surgeon gently said she believed so.

Tests for a biopsy will be done on Tuesday in Petoskey with guided ultrasound. Problem is the chemo worked so well on this tumor that it may be hard to biopsy to know for sure. The fact that it shrunk is a sign in itself. Scars don’t shrink. She also said there were more than one, unrelated to stent problem. It was a very uncomfortable conversation. The surgeons voice sounded sad. We won’t know anything for sure until the biopsy. She recommended that chemo be continued, if it wasn’t making her too sick.

So that’s where we are. Hoping for the best, to hear that it’s nothing to be concerned about, but also know that it’s a game changer. She said there would be no sense to do the surgery if it has spread to her liver. Why put her through that ordeal she added. We are going to drive to Petoskey Monday night, get a room, and be at the hospital early at 8:00. It takes about 72 hours for the results. If they can get to it. If it has spread she will have to stay on chemo forever she said.

I told Bobbi I was done writing about this. She insisted that it must be written. I’m not comfortable doing so. She wants this to help others and it’s very important to her to do so. We don’t know anything for sure. Not going to jump to conclusions without the facts. Angry that we had to find out about the liver spots the way we did. Maybe nothing to be concerned about. The fact that the spots responded to the chemo isn’t good. The fact that the spots shrunk isn’t good. The fact that no one has mentioned anything about the pancreas tumor against her portal vein, is concerning. No mention of it. That was the beast we thought we were fighting. What I do know is that there is a whole lot of fight left in us. We knew that this wouldn’t be easy. It feels like we have to ask the right questions to get the answers.

Yesterday I went out and got us a small Xmas tree and it looks wonderful. We had put up decorations and some lights 2 weeks ago, but not a tree because we thought she’d be in the hospital for the surgery a couple weeks. Bobbi decorated it beautifully and we are still determined to enjoy the holiday. Very hard to do, but refuse to allow it to strip from us the good. We’ve cried, and I hold her at night close. It’s a very confusing time. I looked at her decorating the small tree and decided to take a shower. I wanted to hide my tears. I love her so much and it’s so painful to watch her experience all this. August 24th feels like a million years ago.

There is a gathering of friends being held in Wisconsin this coming Saturday, simply to show us we aren’t alone. It’s overwhelming seeing how many people are involved and doing so much. She is feeling so much love from others that she often sheds tears when a Facebook notice sounds on this iPad. We have it set to sound like popcorn, and at different times it’s like a large kettle is being cooked. Thank you family and friends. Life often shows the worse of humanity on TV and in newspapers. This shows the very best in humanity. The worst three words heard was “you have cancer”. The best three words she has heard is “you are loved”. Thank you are words that can’t describe what this feels like. She has touched so many lives, and will continue to. You have certainly helped her in ways that only love can do. When we decided it was time to let others know what was going on, until now, the love shown has been unbelievable.

The battlefield may have changed a bit. But there is no quit in her DNA. Not now, not tomorrow, not anytime. Tuesday more tests, results probably Friday or Monday. Have gotten about 5 hours a sleep these last few days. How do you tell your mind to shut down when there is no off switch. We move forward and deal with today. She is feeling good, no pain, but it’ like getting hit by a fast ball. Shock, disbelief, confused, concern, all combined into one.

Screw You Cancer

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Bobbi was holding onto my side as our old motorcycle was flying down a hill. I asked her about stopping for breakfast and then realized I was dreaming. It was 2:00am in the morning, she had her arm around me, wide awake. It sure felt real. I rolled over and asked why she was awake, told her my dream, and before I knew it we were sitting in our living room having coffee. Her 6th Chemo was yesterday and we traveled through two snowstorms on the journey south and coming back. Roads were icy and winds gusts of 35mph were reported. We knew that snow was expected, the TV announced winter storm warnings for the last two days. Had to make the trip though. Roads were terrible but Twisty has got to go. The treatment went as expected and the cocktail absorbed. We now wait until a scan in two weeks to see if she can have the surgery performed. The scan was planned for Monday but the powers to be want to see the full impact of todays treatment. If the tumor in her pancreas shrunk then surgery will be about 30 days from today. We’re hoping so. How screwed up is this? Hoping to undergo a Whipple procedure. WTF. But it is what it is and messed up choosing this fighter to mess with. She is determined to kick its butt no matter what.

So here we sat, up at 2:00. Years back it was our bedtime! Bobbi, out of no where brought out the hair clippers and said let’s do this. A half hour later we each had bald heads. Screw you cancer! You will not have the power today, not EVER. We may look like a couple of eggs to others, but have a battle at hand and will not give it the upper hand. Period.

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Bobbi’s friends and family, people she never met, are amazing. A once lonely struggle has evolved into one where many have lit their candles, said their prayers, and are sharing their love.

She shared the photos with friends on Facybook, and tweeted them out on our 100,000+ strong Twitter account (see here) She looks and is beautiful. Hair, no hair, matters little at this time. A simple haircut empowered her and wasn’t emotional in any way. We are talking life and death and the later is unacceptable.

I don’t know when a full nights sleep will return. I want so badly to swing my fists at this terrible disease. Beat it to a pulp and then take the boots to it. I stopped the wondering of why and not possible. We are not going to back down and feel pity. Many are climbing their mountains and life isn’t easy for any of us. Life certainly isn’t for the weak. If so it’ll run over you and bring you down. When push comes to shove everyone has the power to give it their best shot. Amazing things can happen when you believe and take a no prisoners attitude. It may start out by knocking you out, and down, attempt to strip you of your dignity and faith, but you slowly get back up, even if you can’t see straight and unsure if you can stand, and fight. May lose a few battles, but will win this war. May bend in the wind but not breaking. Screw you cancer. Not today.

An Unlikely Couple

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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. Didn’t like the direction it was going and knew our relationship would change. Been there, had the t-shirt (or colors) and I was growing up and knew I had the right partner I wanted to spend life loving and laughing with. 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. There are things  I’m not proud of, not in anyway, but a testimony on the power of what real love can do. I use to tell her 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”. Have always enjoyed photography and writing (thank god for editors and friendships with many writers.) Just self taught with the study of letters of ” writing”. I’ve also used to communicate with people most of my life. Even received a personal letter from the President. That was quite the experience. I was mentoring with troubled kids and used to as a teaching tool. You just never know the outcome of taking one step in front of the other and never being scared to try. President Obama, regardless of ones political beliefs, was an inspiring man. He shared that we inspired him! The most powerful person in the world, on a real level. The project was also felt like a true road of redemption I felt I needed to travel.

The experience , making the sequoia project journey, 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. Which I tried to do. Each week something new. It’s very difficult to explain. It follows me to this day. Years later I’d get a letter or call telling me a kid I had once worked with had graduated from school. I stress to them education is a gift and tool to raise up and at least put a sail in their ship. How far or what direction would a sail lest sailboat go? The better the sail the more options you’ll have. I share with them my story, far from an angels, and how a person really can change their lives.

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. Each February try to give a shout-out for cardiac health. This unique story was shared during cardiac awareness month a couple year back on TV (see on link if interested).

We’ve been through a lot the last 25 some years. Opened a small family business, a professional tattoo studio and lived a simple life. Vacations were to spend time with family. Never flew off somewhere together and had umbrella drinks in the sand, lol. We’ve lived each day taking everything in.

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.

Doing Better

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On Wednesday we left Sault Ste. Marie at 6am, for Petoskey for Bobbi’s fourth chemo treatment. One of the medicines hadn’t arrived at the hospital yet, because of extreme weather the day before. Treatment was delayed about an hour so we returned to the car and took a nap until it did. Actually seen the UPS driver come in with a cart of boxes delivering it. We first met with her doctor and went over what type of week she had and what her lab numbers were. The white cells had dropped some, into the 20,000 range but he felt it was safe to have the treatment.

She went through it like a pro. Was pleasant to everyone and the doctor even mentioned she was the high point of his day. It still amazes me how brave and good humored she remains. The last couple of weeks had taken a beating on her body, the last a lot better than the week before.

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The night was restless though. Though she had little memory of it. I stayed up on and off to make sure things stayed alright. She ran a little of a fever but didn’t get sick. Her blood sugar numbers continued to bounce all over the place. Between 200 and 500.

The next day she was up early and continued with her plans on going to DeTour with her mother to see her sister Lori and said she felt fine. I stayed back and cleaned the house and caught up on some sleep. When she got back early evening she said she was tired but had no problems. Which was great news. The chair that her sister and her were working on they drove to her brother Mikes house and gave it to him. He was really appreciative for it. The guy really is a great brother-in-law. He’d give the shirt off his back to anyone and it was nice to see the family work on a project making him happy. He does so much for everyone, his brother Steve and wife Debbie too, and never asked for anything in return. All of her family is like this. That’s why I believe she knew she was ill when we moved from Wisconsin, so she could be with her mother and siblings during this challenging time. When night came around it was as restless as the one before. Tossing and turning every few minutes.

Today it was like she was in a chemo fog. Nodding off to sleep one minute and up the next. Kept things very simple. I did some clothes, went grocery shopping for items she liked, and kept my eye on her without hovering. She stayed on her nausea medicine and didn’t get sick at all. Was just out of it though. The chemo really takes its toll on a persons fatigue. She ate good but again her blood sugar numbers were off the chart. Our new family doctors office called and put her on more insulin too. Didn’t seem to matter and will be something we’re going to stay on top of. Know it has a lot to do with her pancreas, which is where the tumor is, and is a real concern.

She has two more treatments until they do a CAT scan to see if the tumor has shrunk enough to do the whipple surgery on it. If so it will probably be scheduled around the middle of December. That’s what we are hoping for. Get Twisty the hell out of there. There will then be four more months of chemo after she heals from the surgery.

She is doing well. Every day feels like the same and the days in the week are nameless. It’s taking things one day at a time. Her attitude is good but it frustrates her not having her usual energy, it’s a blessing that it was the stent that appears to have caused so much turmoil the past few weeks and not a result of the chemo treatments. This is at least tolerable she said. It’s good to see her eating. I try to do everything that physically needs to be done so that she can simply concentrate on resting and making it through her day with as little problems as possible.

We continue to talk a lot and voice our concerns on the seriousness of things. Try not to worry or get to far ahead of ourselves. It’s really tough being so far away from our kids in Wisconsin and Shay in Australia but not much anyone can do about it at this time. Know it’s just as difficult for them. She wanted to make some calls tonight but was to whipped out.

I’m doing the best I can with what I have to work with. The worry is constant and waiting for anything has always drove me nuts. It’s good to no longer see her in physical pain, needing no medications for it. She is pushing on. Weight loss is an issue so we are doing what we can about that. Things take time. We want automatic answers and quick fixes. This is a whole new ballgame though. It’s reassuring to see her cancer team and new family doctor staying on top of things.

What also amazes me is how life can suddenly change so quickly. One minute all is well, and the next it’s the complete opposite and your fighting for your life, literally. I experienced this with emergency bypass surgery, and then she went from possible gallstones problems to a cancer battle. It seems like a million years ago when life was simple and watching freighter ships pass by. Sitting by a campfire and joking, then to ambulances and IV tubes and beeping machines. She is a determined spirit and a positive person. When she went to bed tonight, at around 8:30, I laid down with her for about a half hour just holding her and lightly massaging her shoulders and back, kissing her lightly on the back of her neck, listening to her breath. She shifts around every few moments. Unaware of it though. Last night she got up about three times and barely remembers.

Nobody knows what our tomorrows hold. Things change so quickly. If I can relay one thing to others it’s the importance of taking in all the good and meaningful times with loved ones. Forget the petty arguments and just work things out with compromise. You never know when serious challenges will be at your door, trying to break in and and create havoc. Tell the people who matter that their important, don’t wait until tomorrow thinking that it’s a given. Life is just too short to get caught up in things that really don’t matter. When butting heads with strangers try to take just a couple seconds thinking what mountain they may be climbing. One thing the world needs more of is simply kindness and compassion. At times it feels like everyone is screaming at the other about their views and beliefs, demonizing the ones who feel or think different. Just agree it’s okay to disagree and move on. We all seem to have a few things in common if we take the time to listen. Trust me, it can and does change with one doctors visit or in one single heartbeat. We never think terrible things will happen today, until they do.

Bobbi is resting peacefully and that okay for the moment. We’ll deal with the next moment as soon as it arrives. Again thank you for the concern many have and are showing. Both family and friends. Hopefully there will be a time where we can help you during your rough roads. Really, isn’t that what life’s all about?

Thank You

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It’s the middle of the night again and wide awake, yet my minds in a trance like thought pattern. Bobbi sleeping soundly, having had a couple better days unlike the past weeks before them. Our day started out with each feeling like we got good sleep, though mine was split up in segments. Feels like sleeping with one eye open. Afraid to go to sleep completely. The only sound in the house is my oxygen machine letting out a pumping sound every three seconds. I sit here in the dark, using the keypad on our iPad, using one finger at a time, trying to wrap my mind around everything. Just a little under two months ago she received the diagnosis of having pancreatic cancer. I can’t imagine what’s going on in her mind. Most the time, I’ve no clue what’s going on in my own. I just know that no weakness can be shown. In my early years growing up in big cities weakness was a something pushed aside and never shown. No matter what the feeling were inside. You simply didn’t display it. Doing so would open the door to predators and this cancer I feel is like that. Give it just a centimeter, a small tiny entrance, and it would use the opportunity to become stronger. The strong swallow the weak and that’s how this world, and life has always operated. It’s hard to let go and let faith be and do what it supposed to do. I know this worry and concern will do no good, because it drains you of the strength needed for the battles. Knowing this, and convincing the brain of the same is two different things. I don’t want to let my guard down even for a second. Yet what’s taking place inside her body cares less about what I think and do. I have no control over the higher powers to be. I have control in helping with discomfort and her knowing she is loved, but none when it comes the battle between the body and medications of another. All I can do, and try to do, is be positive and caring. Yet it’s on my mind every minute of everyday.

Today she got up, checked her blood sugar numbers and they continue to jump all over the place. She’s eating right, taking her insulin, and it seems to matter little. She felt like she had to stay busy. Doing household chores like nothing was wrong, wanting no help. I got that. When I was the sickest I wanted no help either. I wanted to physically tell myself that I wasn’t ill and was going to do what I had to do. Wither it was shoveling snow or chopping wood. Push through the pain and the body would follow. All a bunch of BS. After she started laundry I knew, without even seeing her, that it was time for a break. I was right. When I walked in to help she was exhausted and wore out. Suggested that she took a break and I’d finish things up. She agreed and laid down awhile letting me do so. I knew what she was doing, because I did the same. Pretend all was well and push on. Too bad the body doesn’t work that way in reality. Pushing on only puts more strain on a body that needs rest. Causing the opposite effect in what’s needed.

Survivors guilt is also real. Why am I still alive after all my cardiac challenges, after 27 hospitalizations, quadruple bypass, 25 trips cath lab visits, 19 stents, radiation, EECP, 10-months of physical rehabilitation, etc… and now she is the one fighting for her life? It should be me and I’d take all of it if I could. I tell myself that it was so I could now be around for her. There was a purpose to my survival. Things make better sense now. I have to hang on now for her. I certainly hope that is in the cards. I can’t image her taking on this battle without her best friend and husband. We’ve been so fortunate to have developed the relationship we have. It hasn’t always been easy, what long term relationship is? But it’s certainly been worth it. We remember simpler times and tell each other we’re glad we had our eyes open while experiencing them. Watching our children grow up, the joy that grandkids bring, our friends and family. As you get older this is part of it. Taking care of the other when one is in need. We each see things from the others perspective now too. The feelings of helplessness, the prayers of their getting better, learning from the other what they are really made of in the worst of times. Maybe I had to go through my issues to show her that a person can get through and beat unbelievable odds. That you don’t give up and quit when every body part hurts and the the mind is telling you no more. When every step taken your wondering if the other foot will follow. But you do it. You question why when the world seems to hold little joy, but then are reminded that many do exist. You always have more living to do. More things to experience, more love to feel from the lives that matter. It’s these things that keep you going.

Later in the afternoon we had such a time. It came with a simple walk outside during a beautiful day. Just walking, holding hands, and talking. Feeling the breeze, hearing from loved ones, enjoying a nice supper. It was a good day. I didn’t want these writing to just detail the terrible and troubling days, but to include the good and positive ones. The times during the day where things are okay and no matter what’s going on your glad to be alive. Today was one of those days. We try to have as many of them as we can. We try to look at the glass as half full in all situations. It’s not easy, you have to vent when it’s needed, you have to let the tears out when they come. You can’t look at every 24 hours in a negative way. If you do your blind to the things that really matter most. The things that make life worth living. We laugh and joke around a lot. Some days not so much but you get through them. Bobbi is a very unique person. She has a way of making anyone smile and feel better about themselves and life in general. She is by far the kindest person I’ve ever met. No comparison. The fastballs and curves may come in on us, at unexpected times and speeds, but you just have to get through them. The painful times are the worst. You want so badly to take it away. All one can do is comfort and sometimes that’s impossible. All you can do then is hold them and assure them they are and never will be alone. You hope the medications of modern medicine relieve the physical discomfort.

I have no idea what’s going to be written about, unless it’s an update of events taking place. Been told this and that about support groups and all that. I can’t imagine them helping any stronger than being there talking and sharing with each other. I know it’s frustrating when people aren’t hearing from her directly on the phone or through messaging. It’s not because she doesn’t want to. Often I don’t “want” to either. But she has been a friend to many and people care and need to know how she’s doing. Often I’ll copy and paste when things are moving fast and many need to be kept in touch with. Times like this I can share more in a more personal way. She has touched so many lives with her laugher and love. We are certainly fortunate to have so many caring people in our lives. Cancer, like all diseases, are hard and painful. We all probably know someone, family members or friends, or even ourselves who take on the battles. Reach out to these people. Let them know they’ve made a difference in your life. Forget the small and petty things. No one should go through hardships alone. Life is so difficult to explain and figure out. Just when you think you have something comes along and throws the cards completely in the air. Thank you again for the love and support everyone is showing her, its mattered a great deal. She WILL beat this. I don’t care what the odds of certain things are. Odds have two sets of numbers. I wish there was a way to give thanks to the many people who have included her in their prayers and thoughts. Some we’ve never met but have been told they are from sea to sea. Life has its evil and dark sides, but it also shows humanity at its best. I know I look at it much differently. We get notes and cards from caring people we’ve never met, telling us she’s on their prayer trains. What more can be said but a humbled thank you.

This weekend we are taking things slow, preparing the mind and body for another round of chemo and a major surgery in December. There is a calm in the battle. Prayers are being heard and answered. We’ve also learned a fundraiser is being planned in Wisconsin. Thank you.

Winter is Coming

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October 18, 2017
It’s 1:45am and we leave for the fourth chemo treatment at 6:00am. Mind is racing again with a million thoughts. Bobbi has gradually grown better over the week. No more constant wrenching, pain is under control. Met a Doctor she likes and they are going to keep record of her blood sugar numbers because they are still bouncing all over the place. She is on a sliding scale with injections, 4 times a day. On Monday Chrissy visited from southern Michigan, which was nice. And she will be meeting us in Petoskey later this morning. Her energy simply isn’t there though. She was looking forward to spending more time with family but the energy simply wasn’t there. It’s not like a toothache though. Making a bed drains her. Eating is getting better too. We are doing protein shakes (thanks family) mixing our own ingredients like coconut and almond milk into them.

Got out yesterday for a short drive to look at the changing of the fall foliage. This is my favorite time of year. Cool and crisp temps, colorful trees. Was nice to get out and see her smiling and enjoying the sunshine.

Not looking forward to today’s treatment, but who would be? After we have an appointment with a business for hair pieces. That’s really taken an emotional toll on her. Lori trimmed up the length this past weekend. She knows the biggest fight is with Twisty, but nonetheless its emotional. Pulled back from me some but we talked and worked through it. I could give a damn about looks and all that. She’s my wife and I love her from the inside out. It’s her kindness and compassion, her smile and her playfulness. It’s her love for life and so many other things. But I do get it and understand. I’m really glad we talked about it because she was isolating herself, and in turn I felt alone unable to connect somewhat. It hurts to see her hurting. Her whole life she had long beautiful hair, the last 5-years letting it grey attractively. Then “bam”, Twisty shows up showing its thorns. It’ll grow back more beautiful. Her Auntie made her some beautiful hats and she rocks scarfs.

Retiring from work was emotional for her. Selling our house, losing our savings ($30,000+) to my healthcare issues, going from a decent yearly wage to suddenly below poverty level with social security was a challenge. Unable to work because it would throw us off Medicaid and jack our rent a couple hundred dollars more a month. Even needing the assistance of emergency food banks when things were the worse. It was a tough adjustment for both of us. She was sick when she retired, didn’t know from what at the time, and the candle burning on each end caregiving simply met in the middle. Mentally it was the toughest time of our life. It stripped us of our pride and dignity. In retrospect now it was the smartest decision made. If she was still working, when diagnosed, cobra insurance would’ve sent things into a deeper decent and spiral. We’ve never been materialistic people, only one vacation to Colorado to visit with my sister in 25-years. Our yearly voyage to come up north here, to see her mother and siblings was our high point. We had a nice house but the street we lived on was being ripped up, as well as later learning the soil was contaminated years earlier. Which might be a factor with her becoming sick from gardening in it for so many years. Sure, we could argue in the courts and challenge things. She has cancer, I have heart disease, but we are not about to spend what time we have in life fighting the city over money. We’re just not that kind of people. Things are tough for millions across the globe. You can’t let the tough times depress you or you’d go nuts. It feels like the wheels of humanity in general are in a high speed wobble. We worry more about our kids and grandkids generational problems. We’ve tried to be there for them and believe giving ones time is the most precious gift that can be shared. Have tried to keep our eyes on what’s important and not become distracted by the chaos in the world. When we finally got our new life managed this goes down. We can feel bad about it, or we can deal with it straight on and beat it down. People that know us know which course we’ve taken. We WILL beat Twisty and get back to our simple life. We have a great deal to be thankful for and are. Healthy family and good friends, a really nice home. What more is there in life? We are rich with the things that matter the most.

I share these things to show we are just like everyone else. She had a beautiful career in nursing and was on the end of many prayers while assisting in heart surgeries. Spent her life giving to others. I’ve enjoyed my time running a small family business, freelancing photography, and working with the media in getting positive and inspiring stories put on television and in print.

This is a hurdle. Bobbi is a battler. Always been and always will be. We don’t whine and complain about this and that. We’ve always kept most of our battles to ourselves because we all have them. If you just concentrate on the bad there is no room for the good. Life isn’t perfect for anyone. We make mistakes, get back up, dust your pants off and move on. Hold your head up and do the best you can with what you have.

Kind of rambled some on this post. Maybe just needed to give myself a mental pep talk. It’s going to be a long day. We are grateful to be able to live it and embrace it. There are days in everyone’s life where you question what the heck is so sweet about it. Today will be a good day. Medicine is being received, time with family. We talked about visiting Wisconsin in December, but doctors are advising us to hold off. Bobbi’s immunity system will be venerable to infection and that’s the last thing we need before her Whipple surgery a few weeks later. Depressing but thankful for messaging and facytime. In Spring this battle should be beaten down. Winter is definitely coming…

Well, drove down to Petoskey, arrived exactly at 8:00am. The doctor put off her treatment this week because of her white cell count numbers. Apparently 10,000 is in the right range, hers were over 30,000. Too high to receive the chemo. It also explains why her energy level is so low and she is susceptible to getting sick. She was disappointed not seeing Chrissy but there really isn’t anything you can do about it. When learning of her blood cell count a decision was made there’d be no crowds or visits with people until it’s lower. We drove home and she returned to bed for a bit more sleep. This week off will allow her to start feeling good again.

Faith

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What a day. Bobbi’s glad to be home but sleep continues to be calling her every few hours. Which is good. Sometimes it’s good for the reason of taking one away from the reality of being awake. She’s had some nightmares so could be a double-edged sword. Yesterday afternoon Lori and Jim stopped by for a visit and it picked her spirits up. Had a few hours of awake time. Then laid back down. She got up at around 8:00pm after a couple hour nap. I kissed her on the cheek and hit the bed.

That’s about what time my own cardiac battle flared up. Knew it was overdue. The last seven weeks finally took its toll and my body told me it was time to shut things down. I put four slow release nitroglycerin patches on and two under the tongue tablets. Oxygen and morphine followed. Palliative care is management mostly. Everything medically has been done. When she came to bed, guess about 10:00, she couldn’t get comfortable and kept shifting around every 15 seconds. She was sore but doing a lot better and so glad we didn’t have to return to the hospital down state the night before. I knew I had to sleep so went and laid down on the air mattress. When I got up and checked on her she had moved from the bed to the recliner. Checked her temp and returned to the bed. At about 2:00 she returned to bed, thought I was still on the air mattress so startled both of us. I climbed out and returned to the air mattress. It was like playing musical beds. She says it feels like someone punched her from the inside out.

The night was long for both. She had nightmares and I fought off the same. I felt like there were four gremlins pulling on my arms and legs downwardly. I didn’t know what the outcome of the night would bring but remember thinking in my head “God, all this is yours, sort it out and be done with it one way or the other”. Fell back to sleep not knowing what the answer would be. Bad dreams filled the night. One had a nurse cutting Bobbi’s ponytail with a table saw.

In the morning I woke up about 8:00 and Bobbi was laying back in the recliner. Awake but exhausted. She started to eat more, as tough as it was so this is a good sign. We talked about the last seven weeks and all they contained. Three ER hospital trips, two hospitalizations, diagnoses, 4 meetings, two different stent procedures, six scans and imaging tests, a port being placed, 3 different cities and 2,000 miles of mileage in the car. We had a good talk. We knew that faith and trying to remain positive, even when your down for the count, had to be the focus. We opened up some packages from friends and family and felt very blessed. Thank you. Haven had time to directly respond but they have certainly helped a great deal.

Lori and Jim stopped by this morning after our talk and it picked up her spirits more. I missed most of the visit because I continued the oxygen and slept after we talked. She’s now sleeping again, it’s about 1:00pm but she asked to be awaken in 2 hours.

So quite the roller coaster. But it feels like the biggest loop is coming in for a rest. I’m slowly lowering the nitro each hour and feel much better. We still don’t have a new family doctor, since our last one retired, but have an appointment on Monday here in the Soo. After having such a wonderful one on Drummond Island we’re hoping for the same. If so it will save a lot of travel time and ferry rides. With winter coming it may be for the best.

Sometimes you just have to keep swinging. Roll with the punches, take a few, but ultimately have to get back up. Neither one of us are quitting anything. Going to simply use this weekend eating right and preparing for another chemo trip on Wednesday. Oh boy, really looking forward to that. Not.

Things are getting better. Doesn’t sound like it but they are. Could be in worse shape, and many others are. Like they say, we all have a mountain to climb, yet it doesn’t need to be conquered in one day. We are a long ways from the finish line. I keep in mind the serenity prayer, and know this too shall pass. Can’t see a rainbow without seeing the storms. She WILL beat this.

Keep Pushing On

BCD1D353-725E-4686-88E1-7CDC7A7A494FToday the severe pain, which would come intermediately partially subsided. Though Twisty did show its urge and painful resistance last night really bad. Another endless night. Bobbi battled through it. The continuation of keeping pain Meds going on a 24 – hour basis worked for about 20 hours and then she was balled up with the severe wrenching again. Hot water bottles helped, changing positions, and gently messages got her though the ordeal. A fan lightly on and oils filling the air with defuser helps. The whole thing gets me so angry. They tell us to take her to the hospital if things take place again but we’ve been that route many times in the pass. Bright lights, a million questions while hurting, and waiting for different things. By that time the episodes become easier then your told you’ll be in the ER until a bed is available in a few hours. While laying on a bed with a hospital gown on freezing. Then the end result being told they can’t help much so a transfer to another hospital should take place. With me on palliative care pain medications are plenty, but you don’t want to use something that will make matters worse. It’s such a catch-22 situation. Billions and billions of dollars are spent in healthcare and yet people have to experience deliberating pain while the wheels work in approvals and decisions. Don’t get me wrong, we appreciate what can be done, and is, but I personally feel things could and should move much faster.

After the latest episode, which lasted a good half hour she got dressed into her nightwear and is relaxing comfortably on the recliner. Had we went to the hospital she’d be telling her story 10 different times to 10 different doctors all asking the same question as the previous one.

We talked for an hour and even joked some about the system. The tumor itself is acting up, and the cells next to it are dying and have nerves. We are picturing Twisty getting a shot of the Chemo and reacting with a temper tantrum. Her attitude is amazing. She simply deals with it, good humor, and tries to prepare for the next episode. Know it will come. When it decides to show its ugly side is on its own schedule.

Attitude and outlook is so important. She isn’t laying around whining with a poor me attitude. Not even a little. The effect on her, with hair loss, has been traumatic but reached the point where she really doesn’t give a damn about it. I told her the courage she has shown throughout this ordeal has made her more beautiful than any other time. I get why it bothers her. Women grow up seeing beauty on TV and billboards being brainwashed that beauty is having to look a certain way. Hair, weight, makeup, etc… Such a bunch of crap. It naturally freaks them out when they feel they aren’t living up to societies so called model image. She could give a damn now about any of it. She knows the people around her simply want her to get better and wants the same. But it is a process. There have been mood changes but we talk our way though them. Letting go of past bitterness in different ways, forgiving, and moving on with just getting better. She’s always treated everyone important and caring. The times it hasn’t been returned, or with “attitude” hurt her. A few times stand out when first moving up north. I’ve wanted to call these few people out… she simply asks me not to. People have to live with that guilt, if it even exists, so that’s on them. Life holds many unpleasant and confusing times. We all have this experience. From people we thought were friends, and even family. You forgive and move on. You do it for yourself. She once lived a little unsure about her ability to speak out, (though always strong and independent) afraid to hurt feelings or being a bother to others. That Bobbi is long gone. This experience has taught her how strong she really is, the people who actually care and give a damn, and she is going to come out of this stronger, wiser, and more sure of her abilities. I’m proud of her. I’ve always tried to help install a confidence in her, and remember teaching her to drive a huge big boy Harley when she expressed the desire. A few months later she was ripping down the highway with a friend to visit Nigeria Falls on our 840 pound beast.

Anyone thats meet or knows her instantly takes to her kind and caring ways. She had a good day today considering a few rough spots. Proud of her. Thank you again for the kind letters, cards, and calls. To both family and friends. If we can’t respond right away it’s because the days have often turned into nights and the nights into days. Thank you, it won’t be forgotten. You really learn who your friends are, by what they say and do when the chips are down, and feel very fortunate for the people in our lives. We are really missing the kids and grandchildren but hear all is well with them.

One Day at a Time

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September 17, 2017,
The port where the chemo cocktail during treatments will be put in, here in the Soo on Tuesday. Treatments begin this coming Wednesday, the next day, in Petoskey. Friday was spent there, having lab work done and meeting the doctor that She’d be dealing with. He was a nice man and had a sense of humor. Bobbi liked him so that’s what counts most. Having spent 45 years working in the field of medicine and helping others her instincts were sharp. When he first came in I wasn’t sure, he asked her how she was doing, which she replied “good”, he replied “no you aren’t, you have cancer”. He had a point… but her attitude was good, she had been hurting a lot early, but at the moment good. The doc was about 65, and had a warm smile. I couldn’t image the lives he’s seen in his lifetime. Things are being setup for Wednesday’s. Hitting the road early, when it’s still dark, and returning later in the evening. Side effects would be many. The illness has already made life tough, so two different battles being fought. The disease and the medicine used to shrink the tumor. Nights have been rough. Nausea with stabbing and twisting pain. It’s last about 30 minutes. All I can do is keep her hair out of the fluids her illness is expelling. When she is sweating, cold wash clothes rotated in and out of the freezer. One feels so helpless. Lori invited us out to relax outside of DeTour Village, at their summer cabin, so we drove here after the trip to Petoskey. Her mothers cabin is next door so it was nice to see her and Fred yesterday and for a bit today. Had a nice meal, walked the beach, and sanded away on an old chair being refurbished for her brother Mike. He’s done do much for others that it’s a project many have taken on. The chair, a rocker, was somebody’s pride and joy at one time. But it certainly seen it’s better days. It had been restored to life about five times. Old springs, strings, rope held layers of fabric. The wood and frame is nice, made of hard cherrywood. Yesterday we spent the day on it. Passed time and kept us busy. We talk nonstop, about everything. Then BAM Twisty shows it’s nastiness.

Today we spent about two hours on the beach. The sun is bright and the waves were loud. They snapped at the shoreline in a calming way. We looked across the water and just took everything in. She had spent her early years, sitting in the exact spot, wondering what her future would hold. Now she was here, looking across the water reflecting on how it’s being lived. She laid back on the sand, arms outstretched, looking up at the sky. Her head and arms facing the waves. The white foam of the waves would cease into little bubbles and color the sand a dark wet tan. They stayed about a foot from her head. We listen to the waves. No man made sounds could be heard. Just the earth. A wave suddenly splashed higher on the shore and lightly broke to a calm stream and gently brushed her arms and hair. It was like the Great Lake had blessed her I said. A body of water that has taken freighters and ships down gently touched her. A force that can be so powerful, which has taken real lives, calming her today. She laughed and sat up, hair wet and curly, sand all over, and laughed. Then laid back and welcomed the ones that barely reached her.

She picked up a stick and started to draw in the sand. I asked her to draw what the cancer looked like in her mind. Draw whatever came to mind. It was a twisting barb of a tornado shape to the bottom. When she was done we wrecked it. Getting rid of it like she is going to beat it. She asked me to use the stick and draw my heart disease. I drew a heart, and took black weeds and piled them randomly on and around it. We kicked it away, telling each to go away. It was therapeutic in a lot of ways. We are going to keep the stick of course.

We talked and talked. About the future and the seriousness of things. Her cancer and dealing with my palliative care issues. What we each wanted and didn’t want. We each agreed that when a person dies their spirit is united with the important people who left earlier, and that we’d be able to fly.

It was nice to spend our weekend in such a serene place, among many islands. It’s on the very eastern tip of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Today is Sunday and we are working on the rocking chair on and off. Football is on the TV buts it’s mostly background noise. I care little about whose playing and what scores are. I use to read world news constantly and couldn’t go an hour without reading something on the internet. Now, it’s like I really could care less what’s going on in the world. It’s strange that so much can take place in your life, change it, in just a few short days. Short days that have felt like a lifetime. Drawing in the sand together was the right thing at the right time. We were marriage 100 feet away, in her mothers yard. We talked and talked. For some reason she likes me reading to her so this is something new we’ve started. We plan on doing this while her chemo medicine drips into her heart. The book I started to read turned smutty on us, we laughed and said that we doubted I’d read it during treatment. We have a lot different reading material so it shouldn’t be a problem. Plan on reading some books Jen’s mother Carol sent us, and a novel. This is probably our last weekend of nice weather here. The trees are starting to turn colors. So many unknowns right now. Have thought about what to share in these writings and what not to share. Not naming a lot of the doctors and hospital staff to protect their identities. Bobbi and I want to keep the family updated, in addition to it possibly helping others who are going through similar situations down the road.

For we live by faith, not by sight.
2 Corinthians 5:7 

Grand Rapids

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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.

The Island

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August 30, 2017
Today we traveled on Ferry to see Dr. Aldridge on Drummond Island. We came down early to her Mothers cabin not far from the island. Time was spent with the family and walking the dunes of the beach. Short videos were made trying to keep a positive mind set. We knew we had to be strong. Bobbi never once complained or whined about any of this. We had a million unanswered questions and being patient was the most difficult. Hearing your wife has such a devastating type of cancer is so confusing. How far along was it? How far has it spread? What beast were we looking at?

The meeting with Dr. Aldridge was difficult. His concern showed on his face. A very kind and compassionate man. The staff at this small medical clinic seemed like family. They were in as much disbelief as we were. They knew we were battlers and if anybody could deal with this it was us they shared. We talked about what took place in Petoskey, and the CAT scan planned this Friday. While we waited for the ferry to take us back we had ice cream at a little stand close by. It was sunny and blue skied day. Everything still felt fuzzy and not really taking place. I was scared but didn’t want to show it. I knew Bobbi was but wouldn’t admit to it. She put on her armor the moment we were informed that she had cancer. I’m amazed how quickly she accepted things and how cheerful and positive she was. We knew so very little. We stayed in contact with the family and kept everyone updated. The time alone at the cabin did us good. Lots of talks and walks.

Battle Plan

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August 25, 2017
This morning seemed like I woke from a bad dream. Only it wasn’t. The hospital was only a few blocks away. I was still in a daze. When I got to her room she was sitting up, ordering breakfast. The stent was doing its job, her skin was less yellow and her eyes whiter. Both of us knew there was a battle ahead and concentrated on how we’d tackle this news. At least she felt better from having the pressure relieved inside the gallbladder. The doctor soon came into the room and cleared her for release. Her enzymes were still sky high but should soon get better. Her attitude amazes me. I shared that I had talked with the kids and that it wasn’t an easy experience. We talked about how important it was to stay in touch with them and are committed to it. When she was released the ride home back to Sault Ste. Marie took forever. An appointment was made with our family doctor on Drummond Island, and a CAT scan was ordered at the local War Memorial Hospital. An appointment was made in Grand Rapids to meet with the doctors who’d be involved with this battle. Grand Rapids is about a five hour drive from Sault Ste. Marie. It felt good to get home, though still feels like a bad dream. So much has taken place in just a few short days. Her Mother and siblings were all notified by Lori. Bobbi made a call to her Mother and shared the battle plan. The next step was the CAT scan and seeing Dr. Aldridge on Drummond Island. We’re so grateful to have him for our primary doctor.

Cancer!

August 24, 2017
An MRI was done this morning and the results were not good. The doctor later came into the room and said that his team went over the results and there is a tumor in her pancreas thats blocking her bile duct. He shared with us that his team suspected that it was cancerous. What a eye opener this news was. Hit us like a freight train. He explained that they’d put in a stent, later that day, to open up the gallbladder duct, to relieve the pressure. They would take brushings of it while performing the procedure.

The doctor was very straight to the point and immediately after hearing the news a nurse closed the curtain separating her bed from the patients bed next to her. We couldn’t believe we actually heard the news we heard. Pancreas cancer? There must be a mistake. We each shed tears and tried to make sense of all of it. This was a long way from suspected gallstones causing the problems. We were shell shocked. Her sister Lori came into the room and knew something was wrong when she seen the curtains closed around the bed. When she came in we explained what the doctor said, and I knew it was important that the two spent sometime alone. I took a walk outside in a daze. It was too much coming in at one time. You have got to be kidding me I thought. Pancreas cancer! No, it wasn’t, but yes it really was. As I walked outside the hospital the tears just flowed. I cared little who saw. I knew that she and her sister were experiencing grief and disbelief. When I walked back into the room their faces showed it. Everyone looked exhausted and spent.

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Later in the day they took her into surgery and placed a plastic stent into the area they said. The doctor took brushings from the tumor at the same time, to confirm his diagnoses. The procedure lasted about a half hour. She was sleeping when they wheeled the bed into the recovery room. I took my finger and slowly rubbed the side of her temple as she slept. Slowly she awoke and became more aware of her surroundings. The doctor came in and confirmed that the tumor was about the size of a walnut to plum in diameter. He could give no prognosis until other tests were done.

She eventually was transferred back to her room and we talked about the battle ahead. Her attitude was positive. She said that she was a battler and would kick its butt. It was important to keep a positive attitude and she and Lori tried to put on a brave face. When Lori left Bobbi and I continued to remain as positive as we could. When visiting hours ended it was back to the hotel. I called Shay and Sean and shared the terrible news. They were the most difficult calls ever made. I called my sister Charlie in Colorado as well. I couldn’t believe how everything changes in seconds. I stayed up until late in the night, looking out the motel window in a daze. Traffic and cars continued to pass on the street. The world just kept going, people going on with their lives, and we were wondering what ours now would bring. I eventually fell asleep on top of the bed, not drawing down the blankets or changing. I couldn’t imagine what was going on in her mind. She was a nurse for the last 40 years, recently retiring a year and a half ago. The last 5 years caregiving me, during my cardiac battle, and my  palliative care. It seemed so unfair. Anger, disbelief, shock, grief, all mixed into one feeling. Rage.