Bittersweet treasures

My beloved husband George lost his bladder cancer battle in the early morning hours of August 19. He was right here at home, in a hospital bed in our living room, overlooking the lake that he loved. He was ready for his journey. We had called Hospice who guided us through those last days; he received the sacrament and last rites of his Catholic faith; kids and grandkids were here in person or via FaceTime; he hugged every one of them, his dear treasures.

One last cribbage game with his favorite partner, Steve; several hand squeezes for me and then he grew tired and silent. My youngest sister was here with me and one of us held his hand through the night. My hand was firmly in his as he left for his new home with Jesus, our Lord and Savior who we worshipped together.

It was both bittersweet and a treasure. Calm, peaceful, beautiful. At 93, he earned his heavenly reward; he served the world well; he caught all the fish he needed; his WordFind books were full, his work was done. 

Relaxing with his WordFind
book of puzzles in Arizona  

We had a lovely funeral service for him at our church. It was perfect in every way, complete with an honor guard, a gun salute and a flag presentation to honor George, an Air Force veteran. A luncheon was enjoyed afterwards, a time to visit and relive memories.

And now here am I, alone and missing him more than words can say. But I have treasures now, too. Friends and family who never left me, neighbors whose offers of help mean so much, expressions of sympathy, memorial gifts, cards and phone calls, all reminding me I'm not alone. I have beautiful memories to savor. I’m very fortunate and very blessed.

I treasure above all the greatest gift my husband gave me: absolute and endless unconditional love. I will return his love beyond measure in my heart to the end of time. 

Rest well, my sweetheart.

Two down

Two.  #2  twodown

George had his second immunotherapy infusion this week. So far, so good. No big side effects, only perhaps increased fatigue and some lower abdominal pain that didn't last very long. 

Immunotherapy is relatively new as a cancer treatment but is more palliative than curative. It gives your own immune system a boost to help fight the cancer.  

And this is where the port comes in. The infusion can be given through the port, eliminating the need for those tricky IV pokes each time, assuming a viable vein can even be found. In George's case, that becomes a major challenge.

Before each infusion, he has blood draws that determine his overall status and ability to tolerate the infusion. Once the lab has released these results, we see a nurse practitioner who makes that determination. George's hemoglobin is still low but staying steady. His iron is still low as well contributing to his weakness, and so a series of iron infusions were ordered, separate from the immunotherapy appointments.  

So now we simply put the key in the ignition and our Suburu automatically goes to the hospital cancer center. Who needs an electric car?

MHealth Fairview Hospital, Wyoming, Minnesota

The staff at the cancer center are very kind and it's not an altogether unpleasant experience. To prepare for our winter in Arizona, we will need to find an oncologist there, arrange to have the immunotherapies ordered and of course, find a cancer center where we can continue the course. 

Hopefully, we'll be able to continue the "so far, so good" reports. We thank you for all your support and encouragement. 

Thanks for listening to my random thoughts. If you would like to be added as a "Follower," I'd be thrilled.

The port

George’s journey to cancer treatments began today with the implant of a port. This device, put in George’s right upper chest, will allow for the recommended immunotherapy to be administered without the constant needle pokes and IV starts each time.

We began the day with the 58 mile drive to MHealth Fairview Southdale hospital in Edina. After the usual registration paperwork, we were escorted to his suite-for-the-day and greeted by a lovely nursing assistant who recorded his vital signs and covered him with that wonderful blanket fresh out of the the warmer, the one—possibly the only one—benefit of day surgery.

He was able to rest for awhile under that nice warm blanket until the fun began with a nurse coming in to start an IV. 

This is never an easy job for even the most talented and skilled of nurses. George has been told he has “rolling veins” which seem to disappear entirely when a needle is anywhere near. It not only takes several tries but usually several nurses and several hot packs to achieve success.

Today was no exception. 

The third nurse to try finally got it as we all held our collective breaths. The IV in place with the patient now greatly relieved, it was discovered he had an order for some lab work. Normally this is not a big deal as blood is just withdrawn through the IV. But, as luck would have it, that wasn’t a go. A lab tech was called and more hot packs and needle sticks ensued.

When all preliminaries were complete, a nurse practitioner came to explain the procedure in detail. Using a model, she showed us what the port looks like and told us the advantages of having a port implanted. She also reviewed the care for afterwards. George will wear a bracelet after the procedure as an alert that he has a port.

Finally, his assigned nurse scrubbed the area on the upper chest and administered an antibiotic through his IV.

So now we’re ready and it’s time for set-go. Away he went down the hall for the hour-long procedure as I turned in another direction to the cafeteria for some lunch. I said a little prayer and knew he was in the Lord’s care.

When I returned to his room, he was already back, sound asleep and snoring up a storm. They said all went well and he could go home in another hour.

I have to put a plug in for the hospital staff. They were extremely busy, yet every staff member was kind, pleasant, professional, took more than ample time with us and made us feel important. God bless them for their tireless work. 

And now…bring on the treatments to arrest that cancer. 🥊

Thank you for listening to my random thoughts 

If you would like to join as a follower, I’d be beyond thrilled.

The C-word revisits

Back in 2014, I posted that my husband, George, was diagnosed with bladder cancer. It was alarming because he had no symptoms; it was found during a routine physical when something was flagged in his bloodwork. It led to a cystoscopy, several types of scans and tests, and ultimately the removal of his bladder and a urostomy bag for urine output. It was a rough surgery and a lengthy recovery. 

But after some trial and error and a few complications, he made it through and adjusted to the urine bag. He continued to have checkups at regular intervals, first very often, then every three months, then six, then yearly. When he reached the five-year mark, the scans continued to be clear and the doctor pronounced him cancer-free.

Fast forward to 2022.

What we thought was completely gone was a little too good to be true. In February, while we were in Arizona, George became very ill with nausea, constant diarrhea, chills, and loss of appetite resulting in a drastic loss of weight. Emergency room visits, hospitalizations, numerous doctor visits and scans became routine. He was diagnosed and treated for diverticulitis but nothing that was prescribed seemed to help. I couldn't imagine trying to get him back home to Minnesota where our regular medical care was. I really thought we were stuck in Arizona and my husband wasn't getting any better.

When we told our kids we just couldn't risk coming home, my son took charge, flew to Arizona to help close up the park model and get us packed, booked our airline travel, arranged for wheelchairs, and single-handedly managed George so I was quite literally just along for the ride. God bless him. 

Once home in Minnesota, we headed to the local hospital emergency room and George was admitted to the hospital. Another CT scan revealed a rather good-sized and suspicious-looking mass adjacent to the colon. A colonoscopy was ordered but was unsuccessful because the scope couldn't get past a certain point to get near the mass. George continued to get weaker and the decision was made to move him to a nearby transitional care unit. Another colonoscopy was ordered, this time at the University of Minnesota, and again, after an hour of trying, it was unsuccessful in reaching the mass to get a biopsy.

Finally, it was decided to try a needle biopsy by going to the site through the skin. Enough tissue was obtained to analyze and the results were not what we'd hoped, although admittedly we both had a gut feeling. The diagnosis was urothelial cancer. It was thought that when we assumed he was cancer-free, some nasty cells had crept their way up to the area just beside the descending colon. 

And now we have an oncologist to add to our medical team.

The next step was a PET scan and that, too, resulted in more unwelcome news. The cancer was seen in multiple lymph nodes. The oncologist, however, was glad to see it hadn't invaded the liver or other organs and we decided we'd take any shred of positive news we could get.

Why did I give you all this detailed background information? 

So many wonderful people including family, friends, relatives, neighbors and acquaintances have been asking about George's progress. So I thought about starting a CaringBridge site to keep everyone informed and updated. Then I remembered I have a blog!  So I'll use this way to update and let you know when there's a new post.

Next steps?

Next week a port will be implanted and a series of immunotherapy infusions will begin once every three weeks taking us to the end of September.  We're told there will be another CT scan in between to check his progress and, of course, more visits to the oncologist. 

But there are more fish 🐠 to be caught, more outdoor exploring to do, more cribbage games 🎴 to play, and much more doting on grandchildren and great-grandchildren. 

We are more than ready to hit the START button. 

Your prayers and positive thoughts are more than welcome.   🙏🙏

Thank you for reading my random thoughts.  
If you choose to join as a follower, I would be thrilled.

Press on…

I present what has now become my annual posting. Time was, I wrote many times a year, then down to several, then a few, now it seems New Years is all I seem to manage. But I still look forward to visiting with you on the start of a new year. It’s always such a fresh and new and hopeful time for me. 

Last year’s post lamented the fact that we had an unwelcome pandemic in our midst that halted everything and changed our lives in ways we’d never even imagined. Like I’ve often said, it was something straight out of a science fiction movie.

So the new year of 2021 arrived introducing some hope. We now had vaccines. Restaurants, movie theaters, hair salons—well, those that remained—were able to reopen and a bit of normal-ness slowly crept back in to our everyday routines. For us, that meant seeing friends we’d missed, enjoying outdoor concerts in the local park and a few picnics. We even became a little lax in grabbing our masks to leave the house. 

Then we learned about Delta. Then Omicron. Well, shoot, all of a sudden, we’re back to Square 1. Even worse. We put away all our cloth masks we’d accumulated and ordered the N95s, making sure a stash of them was available in the car, lest we forget ourselves when we walk out the door. 

Big *sigh.*

Now that I’ve recapped what you already knew, wherever you are in the world, allow me to share my mantra for 2022.

PRESS ON.

Press on… never losing hope for the days of the future but with our minds set on today. Today is what we have, what we’ve been given. Whatever our circumstances. 

Even limited, we can still make the world a better place. We can still pray. We can bring our neighbor a loaf of banana bread from our oven, offer to pick something up from the store so we both don’t have to risk going, make a telephone call to keep in touch, be encouraging when someone needs a pick-me-up.

Why do I write these flowery words of wise advice?

Because I need them. I need to write them, I need to read them. Over and over, every day. When I heed these words, I find I’m the winner. The one that comes out ahead. And many days, I’m behind.

So, press on. 

I need you, the world needs you. Take good care of yourself. 

All the best of God’s goodness is wished for you for this new year.

Thanks for allowing me to share my random thoughts.  💭