Half-Way Point
We used to live around the corner from this. It’s the finish line for the Boston Marathon. In April, as the race would wind into the Back Bay, we’d wander around the corner to catch a glimpse of those coming into the last mile. Most inspiring always were the wheelchair participants. We couldn’t fathom how they did it. We were in our 20s and still so young and sheltered. But as we watched participants come around the bend exhausted, determined, in pain… we couldn’t help but yell out to these strangers “Keep going!” “You can do it!” “The line is there — you’re almost home!” I recall telling Dave that someday WE were going to run this race and cross that line only to laugh knowing marathon runners we were not. Funny where life takes you and how marathons become metaphors for other things.
Yesterday, Dave completed his 10th radiation treatment. Over the next two weeks, he will have 10 more. And then, on April 8, he will be done.
He can see his finish line.
Also on that day, we’ll be having a consultation with the team at Childrens regarding Brandon. Funny how the calendar collided. Or not. I’ve learned not to question.
But treatment conclusions and diagnostic reviews do not mean things are over. Far from it. We are always going to have these things in our lives. Perhaps not in the first person sense of needles and therapies and instant reactions — but in memories and check-ups and fighting on for others. We’ve met so many people during this span of time who need our cheers and support. It’s a community we will never leave.
To that, Dave decided a while back that as soon as he got to remission, he wanted to do something to give back. So on June 17 – 18, we will all be participating in a local leg of the Relay for Life. Dave has put together a team and a goal. Together our band of ‘Nashville or Bust’ folks will walk a 12-hour track to raise awareness and funds for cancer research and treatment. I guess in some ways, we found our race after all. *smile* ~ Jacqui
More Birthdays
Perhaps you’ve seen the ads for the More Birthdays campaign from the American Cancer Society.
I initially became aware of this campaign a few months ago when the days were really dark. [Recall, I was a member of the 24/7 ‘cancer search’ club on the Internet.] I remember thinking what an interesting twist on a position — more birthdays — instead of just stating the obvious, survival. It was human and of course I liked it but I didn’t stop and think about it too much. It was winter and I really wasn’t connecting with, nor projecting to, Dave’s next birthday. I was in a different place.
Ironically, the TV campaign has kicked up as we are getting into March and …a certain somebody’s birthday. As freak timing of many things seems to follow me, seeing the ads now has kicked up a new awareness inside of me. It’s curious, really. I realize now that for a time I wasn’t sure if the future would bear this birthday or not. I realize now that prior to all of this, I took a lot for granted in that hamster-wheel of life sort of way. I realize now that while there still is work to do, so much has been accomplished and it is okay to reflect on progress. While friends had always teased me about these things (and I laughed with them) I realize I was the sort of person who always kept trudging forward without pausing to enjoy the moment or celebrate the endeavor. Sad, really how life got in the way of life. And sad that it took a winter of winters to wake me up and an advertising campaign of all things to bring it home.
Also from the irony bin — did you know the official color of Lymphoma awareness is lime green? (Yes, same color as Dave’s car and possibly most food and drink when you apply the right amount of food coloring.) So when you are donning your green on the 17th think about your favorite Leprechaun and know how instrumental you — yes every one of you — has been to his fight and sense of wellness. Your love and cheer have made sure that more birthdays would be celebrated and life enjoyed. Thank you. — Jacqui
P.S. This is one of my favorites from Jack Johnson. And this one from Devo cracks me up. If you have some time later, scroll through and enjoy the many and varied contributions from the music industry towards the cause. You’ll never hear the Happy Birthday song the same way again.
Photo Op
We finally got the picture. It only took three attempts at the milestone moment, but we got it.
When Brandon was learning to ride a bike, it seemed like he had his training wheels on forever. One day he unexpectedly asked Dave if he could remove the training wheels. Excited to capture the moment, Dave hollered for me to get the camera. Little did we know that Brandon had already learned to ride a two-wheeler at his friend’s house. As Dave began to tell Brandon how we’d all go outside and he’d hold the back of the bike while I got in position for the picture, Brandon looked perplexed. He didn’t need a mess of parental production. He simply needed Dave to take the training wheels off so he could join the other boys on the street in new-found freedom. Wow. Dave grabbed the wrench, loosened the bolts and watched Brandon ride off into the sunset before I could join them with the camera. We felt like we had failed as parents. I mean, we didn’t get the moment on film.
Flash forward five years. Now Jameson was learning to ride a bike and we were certain we’d get the moment documented. It was August and vacation time. All the way down to Hilton Head we assured James that it would be easy to learn to ride a two-wheeler on the packed sand. On our first island morning, we brought our bike rentals down to the beach. It was low tide, wide open and perfect. Little did we know that James had been studying his friends as they mastered two-wheeled freedom and had a good idea of what to do. So, while Dave and I were setting up the beach umbrella, making sure baby T didn’t get too close to the shore and talking about who would take James riding, Jameson quietly picked up the two-wheeler and started riding circles around us. It took a minute for it all to sink in as his movements were natural and his grin so big. Damn, if we didn’t miss the moment again.
Push the calendar another five plus years and we realized that this summer we didn’t get a chance to teach Tessa to ride her bike sans wheels three and four. As a matter of fact, we really didn’t get the bike out for her that much. Pain and then pre-occupation with, well, you know, caused us to not do many things that parents typically do. But today, with temperatures close to 60F we found ourselves with free time on our hands along with a whim and a wrench. So, we popped Tessa into the van with her bike and headed to the park where there was a lot of flat space. It felt so great to watch Dave talk her through and follow behind with one or two fingers on the seat to steady her ride. And yeah, I almost forgot to capture the moment because I was enjoying the moment. But at the last second, I grabbed my phone and got the shot. Within minutes she was on her way … free and happy and that made us smile. Critical moments are going to happen, camera or not.
And speaking of pictures, Dave is in the middle of his third round of scans to measure tumor changes. He had a CT the other day and will have his PET tomorrow. We’ll meet with the doctors on Wednesday to find out what effect chemo rounds #4, 5 &6 have had on Roger and if it’s time to radiate. Until then, we’re not going to worry about things so much. We’ve got other trails to blaze. ~Jacqui
Still Here
A number of folks have been checking in with us over the past 48 via various means of communication. Y’all are too sweet, did you know that?
Things are well (despite the Jack Frost cold) and the house has taken on a festive look with stockings, candles and other Christmas treasures we’ve collected. The kids are rounding out the semester and anxiously awaiting their two-week hibernation. (Me too!) The guys will get the tree this weekend. The girls will bake some cookies. Good times.
And while we’re all enjoying the December hub-bub, we’re also in a period of wait: waiting on the test results from Dave’s surgery, waiting on Brandon’s test results (he finally got in for his genetic blood draw), waiting on the college acceptance letter and yes, waiting for Santa to arrive.
It can be exasperating at moments but I haven’t stopped believing. ~Jacqui
Just Forget The World
Earlier this summer, my friend Joe and I decided to “celebrate” our 25-year old friendship by exchanging mix CDs. An 80s thing, yes, but fun all the same. I’m not sure how it really came about – this decision – but we wanted to share with each other the type of music we were listening to now as opposed to the stuff we “encountered” in 1985.
And me – in my quest to be creative and have this project mean something – opted to limit my mix to 25 songs that somehow, in an odd way, reflected the story of my life since age 17 … where I’ve gone, what I’ve done, what I’ve become and oddly enough, what I was about to face. (Creepy how those things work out.) Yes, a project with a back-story. It was tough to produce and I really wonder why I was so driven to do it.
Included in my mix was this song by Snow Patrol. I put it in to signify how I was feeling after becoming a mother — dealing with the “tug-o-war of life” that inevitably would get in the way of the relationship Dave and I had established. I never followed this band. In fact, I don’t know anything about them. But I’ve always loved this song.
The day after Dave got the first call that something wasn’t right in his body, I heard this song on the radio. After listening, I turned the radio off, and left it that way for quite some time. Music made me hurt too much. It represented too much: past, present and future.
Slowly, I went back to music and listening. And, upon doing so, heard this song three other times in random locations/settings. I’m not sure what it means. Maybe someone in radio land is in tune with how I am feeling. Or, perhaps now more than ever, I am.
It is a beautiful song.
Transitions
I’ve been writing about myself — and my family — a lot lately. And while that makes sense, my life — our life — is bigger than five. And I need to acknowledge that.
So tonight I am doing something different. I am turning this time and space over to others. Like us, your life has been flipped upside down and your center has shifted.
Work struggles, aging parents, broken hearts, broken trust, separations, deployment, chronic illnesses, loss of jobs, loss of place, new surroundings, scary diagnoses, harassment, and forever good-byes. For all the small gifts we have received this year, 2010 has also brought major transition and uncertainty for many of you that we know and love.
We’re thinking of you.
Pre-Surgery Update
It’s been yet another hectic week and weekend in our neck of the woods. We now have two bona fide teenagers in our stable. Jameson hit the big 13 last Wednesday and we made sure to take a pause on all medical stuff to celebrate and eat lots of cake. Mmmm…. cake.
Jameson also rolled his highest bowling game ever during team practice — a 176. He’ll be rolling with the high school team next week during their first competition of the season. Woot!
Dave has been feeling really good and enjoying the past few days, even doing some production work this weekend. Mentally that is a great thing as we anticipate the next few weeks to be physically tough.
The surgical biopsy is scheduled for this Tuesday (11.09.10) and Dave will need to stay in the hospital for a few days post. During our consult with the thoracic surgeon, we learned there is no possibility of actually removing any/all of the tumor due to its position up and near the aorta. His mission is to go in through Dave’s right side between the ribs, reach beyond the right lung and extract out a decent chunk of tissue for pathology to examine. (Think 1 cubic centimeter) Unlike the sample from the needle biopsy, this larger chunk will give everyone the picture and data needed so that this thing can be TYPED and treatment can be best aligned with ailment. It seems like a lot to go through for something the size of a sugar cube but it is something, unfortunately, that needs to be done. Dave is ready. He has a plethora of new head wraps (yes the hair is gone) and a new, favorite zip front hoodie. (I personally like the biker-meets-skater look.) He’s been working hard to keep the weight up (he’s craving pizza and yellow cupcakes sans frosting of all things) and as always, has a strong, positive outlook. He greets each day with a smile and makes sure that we all know how much we mean to him. I think this has really helped the kids to stay confident and calm throughout all of this. Honestly, they have been amazing!
Chemo should start-up again soon after surgery. I’m not quite sure how all of that will work and I’ve learned not to be too concerned about future happenings. All sites are on an easy and successful surgery this week with solid and speedy recovery. Just like Jameson sizes up the pins before knocking them all down in a crash, so too are we going to size up this bad boy tumor before blasting it again. And yes, we will blast it good. ~ Jacqui
Tibetan Wisdom & Barbara Streisand
I recently received a care package from a high school friend, A.J., a multi-talented, artistic and sage ex-pat living in Australia with his wife and two adorable children. Thanks to Facebook and Twitter, we reconnected a few years ago. And that’s a good thing. I didn’t have many friends in high school but A.J. was one of those few who made that time tolerable. We weren’t mainstream kids. And while it seemed nobody understood us, we understood each other. Funny how that works.
But back to this package… When A.J. caught up with recent news he reached out over the wire and checked in via IM. In our brief, modern-day telegraph conversation (stop) he shared with me some thinking that helped him grow and shape his current day person. And then he put it in a box and sent it my way.
I was expecting the book, The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche as we were chatting about impermanence and such. The movie, like A.J.’s incredible wit and humor, caught me off guard. And while it may seem random on many levels, I so totally get it. *squee*
If this were high school all over, I’d flip out our administration by writing a paper on Tibetan Wisdom & Barbara Streisand. That would be fun. And I’m sure if I needed Italian translation or any form of illustrations, A.J. would help me out there as well. ~ Jacqui
A Great Night For Sport
The Highlands Varsity Mens Soccer Team won their ‘Sweet Sixteen’ game last night, advancing them to Sectionals tonight in the state championship tournament. Brandon’s cardiologist agreed last Friday to let Brandon finish out this soccer season. We know coach and the administration were nervous given our new understanding of Brandon’s health condition, but they allowed him to play. And play he did.
The starter goalie kept the opposing team from scoring during the first half. Brandon continued the shutout experience for the final half, when the opposing team’s offense decided to take more control. Highlands prevailed 4 to 0. I was busy tweeting the game so Dave could follow the action at home thus no pictures. I’ll borrow some from our friend, Larry, as he was rapid-firing from the field and post them soon. It was a great night to remember.
And speaking of great… how about them Giants? We got home in time to watch SF rock and roll the Rangers in Game One of the World Series. Without all the tremor action of 1989, of course.
Happy Anniversary
Earlier this summer, we bumped into a recording by some of our new favorites, Buddy & Julie Miller. They’re quietly known as the First Couple of the Americana genre. We love them because they are real, neat, giving and wonderfully talented people. Someday we’re going to have them over for coffee and pie.
But I digress… when we heard this song, we loved it for many reasons. One of which is the simple chord progression of G/D/Am/C and a random Em which allowed for us to learn it (butcher it?) instantly. Then there are the words, and the way Buddy’s voice gently cradles Julie’s and supports her through the recording.
Like many things, we found this song at the right time … as we were evaluating our first 20 years as Mr. & Mrs. I spun it on the way in to work today and found it to be simply perfect. So whether or not you were with us on that night in California, know that some things never change. They just get better. Including the kisses.
Intro: (G)(D)(Am)(D)
When the night has stayed too long
And tears won’t keep
When the sun beats down too strong
Our love runs deep
And our love will hold up the sky
When the rain comes down too hard
It’s a cord that will not un)tie
It’s a promise the angels guard
It will always be your name
Written on my heart
You are inside my heart
Baby our love was meant to be
It’s from God’s hands
Even when dreams turn to memories
Our love will dance
And our love will hold up the sky
When the rain comes down too hard
It’s a cord that will not untie
It’s a promise the angels guard
It will always be your name
Written on my heart
You are inside my heart
Nashville or Bust 