Grieving Heidi's Death - Joe

It's been two and a half months since Heidi died of her metastatic breast cancer. 




Here is a link to the recording of my presentation at Heidi's Memorial Service:
Heidi's Memorial




I am still devastated.
But I am building a new life, slowly and mindfully by:

• telling everyone about how wonderful and brave she was
• asking God to help me grieve in healthy manner
• continuing the outside adventures alone, occasionally with friends
• hosting holiday dinners at home
• decorating the house in new ways for the holidays, to start a new tradition
• journaling my grief over time, on Facebook
• staying vigilante regarding both my cancers' potential recurrences/metastasis
• restarting volunteer work for church and nonprofits

My heart goes out to those of you that face a cancer battle alone.  Heidi and I had each other and our marriage got so strong through our ordeal.  I hate cancer with a passion and will try to continue supporting friends that are still fighting cancer.



Love & Blessings,
Joe

Tough Times Ahead For Heidi - by Joe

Waiting to hear the tumor marker results

Yesterday's (April 2) tumor markers (labwork that tracks her cancer) confirmed that Heidi's adriamycin chemo has not worked and her cancer is growing.  So they stopped that chemo and told us to wait to hear what her Oncologist plans next. 



Meanwhile I was having increasing pain from my surgery and my Oncologist ordered a CT scan yesterday, which showed the post cancer surgery drain was not working.

After the bad news, staying at the SCCA House

Today, I had outpatient surgery to place a deeper drain that will hopefully work better.  When we got home from my surgery, Heidi's Oncologist contacted us with thier plan: MRIs to establish a baseline of Heidi's current cancer status and then starting another chemotherapy called taxol.

Waiting for my outpatient surgery

As you can see from the photos, we pray, we laugh, we cry.  When I get scared about Heidi I remember the amazing hikes and climbs we've done since Spring of 2011 (almost 40!).  She's tough, she's determined and I plan on supporting her better and better as God shows me how.



No despair.  None. 
Pray..  Laugh..  Cry..

Thank you for caring,
Joe

Handling Challenging Bad News For Us Both -by Joe

Heidi receiving her first dose of her new chemotherapy, adriamycin

 Tough times ahead..

A wonderful mystical hike on Valentine's Day

Since my last blog entry, our hopes for Heidi's new chemotherapy changed to disappointment when scans showed continued progression of her bone and liver tunors. She started weekly adriamycin this past Monday, a more toxic, more powerful chemo.

On the summit of challenging Jefferson Ridge on New Year's Day!

As with the chemo that failed, they'll have to wait 2 months to determine if this chemo is working via more scans and lab work.

My new prostate cancer is Stage 2 according to my biopsy, but during my upcoming surgery (radical prostatectomy) on March 12 they will check surrounding lymph nodes to make sure it is not Stage 3.


During the same procedure, they will go into my bladder, removing any new tumors found there.


So we have a lot to deal with. Prayer and support from family & friends are keeping us afloat these days. And humor.

Our easiest setting to pray remains on hikes in the two magnificent mountain ranges nearby. We have already done 5 hikes this year! What a contrast between a day at Seattle Cancer Care Alliance and a day on a hiking trail. 

Enjoying a beautiful creek below this beautiful wooden bridge

We need both.

We are grateful for both.
We are grateful for you.

Heading up a ridge to reach a beautiful river gorge

As always, thank you for your prayers and/or positive thoughts.. your compassion.

Love & Blessings,
Joe & Heidi

The Good News Bad News Roller Coaster Ride - by Joe

We are sitting in the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance cafe as I write this.  We are both adjusting to both good news and bad news today.

Waiting for my ultrasound & biopsy procedures.

The good news is that the specialist Orthopedic Surgeon that handles bone cancer cases wants Heidi to stay fully active.  He has the most expertise in this area and told us that the new hip/femur tumors are not a danger for fracture at this point.  Not even worth doing radiation.  Hopefully Heidi's new chemotherapy will stop them completely at this stage.

The bad news is that in addition to my recurrent bladder cancer, my biopsy report just came back positive for Stage 2 prostate cancer.  Whatever treatment I get for it has to wait 8-10 weeks because of typical post-biopsy bleeding. 


Meanwhile, we have a long list of planned hikes/climbs for this year and will continue to worship God in high places as long as we can. And in the kayak, the garden, at church.. everywhere. God's Love is as present as ever in our lives. More, actually.

Thank you for caring!

Joe (& Heidi)

Waiting for in the SCCA cafe for Heidi's Oncologist
 appointment



No Looking Back -by Joe

We are approaching some major milestones.  Wednesday Heidi gets a spinal scan to check for new tumors and also gets her tumor markers checked.  A few weeks later I get checked for new bladder tumors and the new mass in my prostate checked.  Expecting good results on all three, we're not letting worry take over and not worrying about past results - no looking back!

We're both a bit sad that snowfall has closed off the high elevation, steep hiking trails for the winter.  What an amazing set of 22 outdoor adventures since May!  But now we can explore lower elevation river trails, and later do some snowshoeing - no looking back!

In our walks with God, we're learning the same thing.  Letting go of past doubts, expectations, bargaining, mistakes... Learning new ways to trust God and approach Him through contemplative prayer, we are excited about a growing, stronger, closer relationship with our Creator - no looking back!

As always, thanks for your kind encouragement, prayers, positive thoughts.

- Joe & Heidi

God, Why Us? - by Joe

Many, if not all cancer patients at some point wrestle with the question, "Why me?"  ..as do cancer patient spouses/significant others.  Personally, I do not think there is an adequate answer to this, or the more general question "Why is there suffering?"  A more practical issue is how you handle the question when it surfaces inside.

In our case, we had just spent a small fortune remodeling our old house in order to pass inspection for fostering-to-adopt a child.  Then boom!  Cancer.  Adoption was no longer a possibility.  Along with that heartbreak came confusion: neither of us have family histories of cancer! So why, why, why?

As Christians, we aimed the question at God.  Were we agnostic/atheist it might have been railing at an unfair Universe.  Either way, ignoring it just makes depression worse. 

I think for both of us the question was a muddy mix of self-pity and sincerity.  Emotional and intellectual.  The answer has to be a personal one to move on, not some theology or scientific hypothesis. Amid the amazing theories well-meaning friends hurled our way (sinning, eating the wrong foods, stress, pollution, bad water, etc.) we have both achieved some sort of answer.  I see it as a mystery and an opportunity to choose solidarity and empathy with others' suffering.  On top of that, I think we both see cancer as just one of many realities from living in a 'fallen world' based on Jesus's teachings in the Gospels. 

The benefits of facing the question we've found are many: less depression, less feeling sorry for ourselves, less energy drained, less despair.  Not that the question doesn't still sit there.  But there is a healthy truce.

For anyone reading this that is newly diagnosed, I urge you to wrestle honestly with the question and don't pretend it's not there.  Keep wrestling until you find an answer you can live with.

As always, thank you so much for your amazing support!

Joe

A Cancer Center Chapel 'Revelation' -by Joe

Last week, I was really getting nervous as they started Heidi's second chemotherapy drug in Seattle Cancer Care Alliance's chemo rooms.  Heidi encouraged me to go down to the Center's chapel so I did..

As I sat in the chapel trying to shut up my noisy thoughts and simply be in God's Presence, a remarkable thing happened.  Back in 1981, I foolishly climbed one of Colorado's 14,000+ mountains called Little Bear Peak in the Sangre de Cristo range.  'Foolish' because I was untrained, doing it alone and without a helmet, rope or any way to call for help if I fell.

In the chapel, the vivid memory flooded back of making it up Little Bear Peak's deadly gully called the 'Hourglass' and once I finished that stretch, I was terrified at the prospect of going back down.  Now up until then, I had established a tradition on the previous (& easier) 14er peaks in Colorado of celebrating communion and praying for at least an hour when weather permitted, on each summit.

Looking down that Hourglass chute, convinced I would die on descent, I was faced with a choice.  Should I spend the time on top or immediately take my chances descending?  I chose the summit view/communion. To this day I believe that choice saved my life.  The descent was hair-raising, still no other climbers on the peak to ask for help.  I did slip several times on the steep, slippery slabs of stone.  But I sang all the way down.

The lesson:  we will ALL face deadly danger in our lives, whether from disease, violence, despair, etc.  But the choice is always there.  Will we spend available time with God or ignore Him and desperately obsess over the danger?

Cancer is Heidi & my danger these days; but since that day in the chapel, I am constantly reminded of a welcome place of peace I can find on an inner mountain summit, whether either of us prematurely die on the 'descent' or not.

As always, thanks for your support! - Joe