September

You can feel it and smell it in the air.  It's been with us for a couple of weeks now.  That's right, Autumn is upon us.and the cicadas have been signalling the first frost for about a month now.  That's scary....

For all intents and purposes summer is over and we look forward to the Fall season with its changing colors and cooler weather.  We put in our memory banks the fun we had this Summer,  family reunions , county fairs, picnics, camping, tubing on the lakes and rivers.  There is nothing like Summer in Michigan, especially Southwest lower Michigan.  We wait all winter for the greening of the grass, the blooming of the flowers and trees,  school being out so we can vacation with our family and friends.  Hitting the beaches of Lake Michigan, eating ice cream cones, enjoying the beverage of our choice while we relax on our decks during a warm summer evening, trying to relive our summer days gone by.

Grudgingly we store our boats, put away the beach toys,  haul in the lawn furniture and prepare for a cooler but also beautiful season with its football games, apple cider,  bonfires, and most of all the Fall colors.  Perhaps our Summer memories are more precious, because it seems to be the only season that flies by.

I have lots to look forward to this fall. This September I  will be watching my Grandson march in performances with the Kalamazoo Central High School band.  It is difficult for me to realize he is a Freshman already.  I became a Grandma for the first time on September 11, 1997, when Max was born.  

As for me and mine, we will build bonfires on the shore of Lake Allegan,  roast hot dogs and s'mores, maybe go to a football game or two, all the while dreaming of our warm sunny days of last summer.

Treadmill 1 T.Bond 0

This post falls under the  "It'll feel better when it quits hurting" category.   It was one of my Dad's favorite sayings when any of us hurt ourselves.  Every time he said it, I hated it a little more.  The incident happened a week ago Wednesday afternoon.  It has taken me this long to be able to stomach talking about the accident.

Over the Spring I have gained about 10 lbs. from going through some physical therapy on my back and legs and not doing my regular workout.  Oh and eating like a truck driver. When I started back on my workout, my appetite was voracious.  Soooo, I decided to step up my routine and throw a little something different in to it.  But what? I wondered.  So I doubled my incline on and went to 4mph on the treadmill.  I burned twice the fat calories and about 50 additional regular calories.  Still no weight loss because I was eating everything that wasn't nailed down.

About 3 weeks ago while waiting with Sam at the West Michigan Center, I overheard a couple of staffers talking about their workouts and one said she tried running backwards on her treadmill like they did on the Biggest Loser.  Hmm, I wondered," that sounds like a change up."  I'm not sure what part of me thought it would be a good idea to face backwards and try to run on the treadmill.  Maybe the same part that also told me to put my hands on the rails while doing so.  (I am sure if I had another brain scan it show a lot more dead brain cells than before.}  So I faced backwards held on to the rails and stepped on the machine.

Whoa Nellie!  It seems I turned myself into a human slingshot of sorts.  My feet were going one way and my arms pulled me the other.  Meanwhile I heard a sickening POP and great pain in the middle of my chest.  I knew immediately that I had done something to my sternum.  Fast forward to ER, I indeed had fractured my  sternum horizontally.  It hurts to cough, hiccup, and sneezing is deadly.  I slept the first couple of nights in the recliner even though I was on heavy duty painkillers.  It's been almost 2 weeks and I do feel like I am making progress, but I had to double pinkie swear to Sam, that I would stay off the treadmill this week.  He put me on double secret probation when it comes to exercising.

While I have definitely proven  to be a first class bone-head, I have also learned to remind myself that I am 61 years old and cannot do what I could do when I was 40 or even 50.  (Even though I feel like I can.)  What I did was foolish and stupid, and I can hear my Dad right now asking, "what the hell was I thinkin'?"

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The Broom Tree

     Elijah was afraid and fled for his life, going to Beersheba of Judah.

He left his servant there and went a day's journey into the desert, until

he came to a broom tree and sat beneath it.  He prayed for death:  "This is

enough, O Lord!  Take my life, for I am no better than my fathers."  He lay

down and fell asleep under the broom tree, but then an angel touched him and

ordered him to get up and eat.  He looked and there at his head was a hearth cake

and a jug of water.  After he ate and drank, he lay down again, but the angel of the 

Lord came back a second time, touched him, and ordered, "Get up and eat, else the journey will be too long for you!"  He got up, ate and drank; then strengthened by that food, he walked forty days and 

forty nights to the mountain of God, Horeb.  1 Kings 19,3-8

The above Bible passage is one of my favorites.  Some of you are probably thinking to yourselves that I am a Catholic and everyone knows they don't read the Bible.  But you would be wrong.  True, we never memorized it, but the Bible is the word of God from which our religion flows.  Scripture is a very big part of our liturgy where both readings and the Gospel are taken from, verbatim.

I was living in the Pacific Northwest when this verse came to my attention.  It appealed to me because I was miserable living so very far away from my family.  I was lonely  and weary of the whole situation.  Little did I know how much the current situation would pale in comparison to what I would face in a few years.

Elijah begged the Lord to take his life because he was too tired and saw no way out of his troubles.  Instead of taking Elijah's life, God  provided him with nourishment and rest so that he could continue on his journey, Much the same way the Lord invites us under the Broom Tree to provide us with nourishment, strength, rest and consolation thereby  giving us the strength to continue on our journey through life.

Not to be flip, (but you know I always am) it's gonna  take a lot more than a hearth cake and jug of water to get me through this.  Symbolically, hearth cake and water represent the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ which will nourish my soul through all of this. My personal Broom Tree is actually a canopy of trees shading my deck overlooking Lake Allegan, anyplace quiet where we can listen for the voice of God will do.

When Elijah finally makes it to Horeb, he is told he will hear the voice of God.  At the entrance of a cave he hears God's voice not in an earthquake, fire, or the violent wind, but in a soft whispering.  It is difficult to surrender all of our problems to the Lord, after all we humans tend to be control freaks.  When I offer up my heart ache to God - it is still there, but maybe he takes the portion that I cannot handle and I don't realize it.

We must all be attentive and listen for the voice of the Lord, because until the End of Days, it won't be real obvious.

All My Life's A Circle

When I was younger one of my favorite musical artist's was Harry Chapin.  He was a great balladeer who wrote and sang of ordinary people like you and I and life as he saw it.

His song, "Circle" has been running through my head for the past few days.  It is  a cheery, happy-go-lucky song on the surface.  "All my life's a circle, sunrise til sundown."  "The seasons spinning 'round again, the years keep rolling by."

Coming home from Mother's Day brunch this year, Sam tearfully said "I am so fortunate that  your family took me in as their own and truly love and care about me."  From the moment he went to my parents for permission to marry me, they the loved the man.  Until the day he died, my Dad joked about the money he gave Sam  for taking me off his hands.  Yeah, right Dad.

Our lives are circles.  There are our family circles, the seasons are cycles that make up the circle of years which makes up the circle of our lives.  Get it?  It sounded better in my head.  Kind of circles within circles.  To me the circle of our life is not totally round.  There are highs and lows.

Sam says that when we look back on our lives, it appears more as an arc.  As we start our life we gently go upward and grow  in knowledge and wisdom, trying to make a better life for ourselves.  In that circular motion our lives continue (if we are lucky) completing the arc.  We must be prepared for disasters in our lives.  Otherwise, the arc will turn jagged, plummeting to the bottom.

Not until we reach the end of our life can we be sure of the shape.  So then does it really matter?  I think so, as we leave a legacy to those who are left behind , to carry on our traditions, our rituals, our memories that all live in the Circle.

"And Isn't It Ironic?"

"Life is bitter-sweet,"  my friend Sandy said with tears in her voice. My dear friend in Vancouver knows from experience just how true that statement rings.  She lost her Son, Tony just over a year ago and still struggles as any parent would, yet she is preparing for her oldest daughter's wedding which is a very joyous time.

Over the past seven years I have done nothing but hope and pray to be closer in proximity to my family and friends.  Finally making it to Chicago in December 2009, I was ecstatic!  Just a three hour drive to our family and friends.

On April 19, 2010, Sam was diagnosed with stage four head and neck cancer.  He went through radical surgery which removed a softball size tumor in his neck, 50 lymph nodes, his right tonsil, right jugular vein, thyroid gland, and a baseball size tumor from the back of his tongue.  Enduring six weeks of radiation and chemo just to make sure they killed anything left.  Compared to that, the bleeding ulcer, 6 unit blood transfusion and high blood pressure episode narrowly missing a massive stroke were a walk in the park.

Fast forward to January 2011.  Hoping it would be a better year, we talked about trying to take advantage of the housing market and look for a home in Michigan where we would eventually retire.  We found our dream home on Lake Allegan, about 30 miles northwest of Kalamazoo.  We closed on the house in mid-March.

A month later we discovered Sam's cancer had returned, this time in his right lung.  This time no cure.  This time palliative care is going to be the only treatment.

Are you sensing the pattern here?

The sweet is living in our dream home, being closer to our friends and family and living each day to the fullest.

The bitter:  well....you know.

Life's A Beach

It all began with a Facebook post from my friend Donna stating that she was lifting her self-imposed moratorium on winter vacations.  When she asked if anyone wanted to go with her, I immediately said hell yeah.

She now lives in Philadelphia and I am in Chi-town, so we met at the airport in Tampa.  Upon meeting up we did the dance of joy and went to get my bag.  After that we headed to the car rental place where I picked up the car I rented for $12 a day on Priceline.com and the guy tried to up-sell me to a Chrysler 200 for only $7 more a day.  What part of budget vacation did he not understand?  Hello, Priceline.com......  Saying no thank you for the third time he gave me the keys and told me what bay it was in.  Did I mention I rented an economy car?  When we got to the car, I thought about the old Gremlin commercial, "Hey toots, where's the rest of you car?"  "It's a freaking clown car!" I blurted out.

We put the back seat down and shoved the luggage in the back and headed for Siesta Key.  Just before we got there we had to stop at the grocery store for a few provisions.  $150 later we were once again standing outside the car wondering how the groceries were going to fit in, but our heroic bag boy saw to it, refused a tip from Donna (who almost took him to the ground) and we were once again off.

By the time we reached Casa Mar, it was dark.  My instructions for picking up the key was to get it from the gold mail box.  So because I was driving, Donna went to get it.  "I can't find any gold mail box." she said, so we circled the complex once, twice, three times until we spotted a young man who didn't really look like he belonged there but what the hell.  Turns out his name was Joe and yes indeed he did work there in maintenance.  He led us to the mailbox, we got the key and proceeded to #10 condo.

We both were so tired after unloading the car and putting the groceries that we didn't bother pulling the Murphy bed down and just fell asleep on the couches.

Donna quickly realized I was an early riser.  I got up and went to fix us some coffee.  When I saw the pot, I didn't know what to think.  Well I did think that the owners of the condo did not have a grasp on the two individuals they had rented to.  Swear to god, it was a four cup Mr. Coffee.  You know the ones they have in motel rooms that fill two styrofoam  cups if you are lucky.  Well the coffee cups they had were ginormous.  It took a pot to fill the cup.  We must have used 12 coffee filters the first day. THAT, was tedious.

Fast forward to Sunday night.  We were coming back from the beach when the guy next door started a conversation with us by calling us "chatter boxes".  Now bear in mind that Donna and I have not seen each other in almost two years, so we had a lot of things to talk about at the pool that afternoon.  Evidently Mr. New Jersey (that's where he haled from) thought he was being cute, while we just found him annoying.  But he was old so we cut him a little slack.  Back inside for some "red eyes" (beer and clammato juice) and more conversation.

Crescent Beach is beautiful with its stunning white sand.  We happened to luck out having the best weather of the season so far, but it still was a little cool.  We soaked up the sun everyday, hit the pool and walked the beach a lot.  Donna liked watching the sunset every night.  It was a little cool for me most nights.  We ate out a couple or three nights and cooked on the grill the rest of the time.  I had crab legs for the first time.   I am such a big fan of Deadliest Catch, I should have some Opillio for old times sake.  Donna and I both love that show.  It was happy hour so I had a couple of Bloody Marys and Donna had a "dirty" Martini.

I think it was Wednesday when we decided to do a little laundry.  There was a nice laundromat at the condo so Donna trucked down and put the wash in.  I went down to check it and put in the dryer.  That night we went to dinner at The Old Salty Dog in the downtown Siesta Key area.  That place had the best Mojitos and I also had some fish and chips.  Yummy  It was during dinner that Donna mentioned she had washed the clothes without soap because there wasn't any there.  "I thought the whites were a little dull when I pulled them out." I said.  On that note I ordered another Mojito.  There was a definite lack of supplies that you would normally find at a vacation rental.

The people down there have one speed....slow.  But we were on vacation, so we were in no hurry to get anywhere.  All in all we had a great time.  A lot of girl talk, a lot of drinking and a lot of fun.  I am hoping we can do it again as the time went all too quickly.








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A Good Day

A mantle of snow covered the landscape along I-90 on our trip to Rochester, MN Sunday afternoon, bringing to mind a quote from George Herbert that "Every mile is two in winter".  Along with that came thoughts of how this is our fourth season in which we have seen the Mayo Clinic.  The seasonal cycle is complete and how fitting that on this trip we see how successful the cancer treatment for Sam has been.  The journey has been long and arduous and is something that no one can really appreciate except the patient.

Our first appointment was Monday morning at 6:45 a.m. for the PET scan which took around three hours.  By our appointment with the Radiology Oncologist at 1:00 p.m. the scan was online and reviewed by them.  The results were good, there were no Christmas tree lights on this one.  On we went to the next appointments, ending the day with Dr. Eric Moore, Sam's surgeon.  As far as we are concerned Dr. Moore is a rock star.  When we were given little hope from the medical community in Chicago, it was a much different story at Mayo. (For greater detail, please read previous posts from spring of 2010).

Dr. Moore always takes his time with us and makes sure if we have any questions or concerns they are addressed before we leave.  We went down memory lane,  to May and how he had discussed curing Sam's cancer.   He went on to say that he believed this should also be viewed as a "turning point" in Sam's life.  At his pre-cancer weight and life style he was headed for a stroke and heart disease.  Now he has the opportunity to continue the 90+ lb. weight loss and start an exercise regimen that will extend his life.  He isn't concerned with just the cancer, but the over all well being of the patient.  Folks, you just don't see that much in the medical industry anymore.  The Mayo Clinic is the "Gold Standard" of health care

Then I wanted to ask 'THE" question.  I did it rather clumsily, but Dr. Moore knew what I was trying to get at.  Is Sam considered cancer free, is he cured?  What does today mean?

As he was washing his hands, he pointed out that while the cancer can return anytime, it usually happens within the first three years after treatment.  But something not many people realize is that 90% of  recurrences happen within six months of ending treatment.  So he would see us again in April and four times a year after that for five years.  Then they would say goodbye to us.

"So back to my question Dr. Moore, what does today mean?"  He looked at me, drying his hands  and answered, " It means today is a good day."