"Fish on!" What I hope to be shouting several times over the next 3 days.

Summer is in high gear in Alaska.  Earlier today I told a friend that it is almost stressful all the activities we, as Alaskans, try to cram in in just a few months time.  As for us, we just returned from Kodiak on Sunday, and now we are off to Homer for 3 days in the morning.  Sam wants to camp on the Spit and since I have a 3 day weekend, it is the perfect time.  Hopefully the weather cooperates and the fish are in.  So far fishing on the Kenai Peninsula is not all that good, and since we have had rain the past few days, maybe the darn fish will finally start coming in. For Sam's sake, I hope the fish are in and are biting!  We get a little competitive when it comes to fishing (if you can believe it!), so of course, I plan on pulling in the first and the biggest.

Lights of Homer Spit from the ferry at 1:00 in the morning.

As this is the week before Sam's chemo is to begin, he spent the week getting his meds in order and confirming insurance information.  Tonight he gave me a rundown on how the doctor and he decided to increase one of his painkillers (the long-acting) while decreasing another (the "break-through.")  I admit, my knowledge of painkillers increased tenfold over the past 3 years.  As he talked, the lightbulb went on and I realized why his mood had been so nasty the past few days. It would almost be funny if it weren't so sad. I admit I did not handle the mood swing very well at all which did not help the situation.  Luckily, as of last night, he is back on an even keel.  He is not in the least bit aware of what any change in meds does to his mood.

Wednesday, June 13, Sam begins his chemo treatment.  Although he does not seem to think his reaction will be any different than it was in the fall, I am fully prepared for it to be since other things are scheduled to be included this go round.  The 48 hour mark occurs while I am at work Friday morning and that is usually the worst time, when the chemo hits the cancer cells and the body is basically at war with itself.  The joys of the roller coaster of cancer!

Tomorrow, Friday, June 8, is Cook Inlet Region's (CIRI) 40th birthday, which is why it is a 3 day weekend for me.  Nothing like an unexpected holiday! Work is very busy and during the summer, work increases dramatically.  Tuesday and Wednesday I spent up in the Matsu dealing with trespass issues and checking out some of our lands which I had not visited previously.  Tuesday proved to be an absolutely beautiful day, and Wednesday, just the opposite.  It felt good to be able to work outside for a couple days, made the work week go by much faster and the surprise holiday makes it even better.  I love my job.

Ciao!

"Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning and the first thing that I heard - Was a song outside my window, and the traffic wrote the words..." Lyrics to Chelsea Morning, Joni Mitchell

Another quick note as I am off to work for a couple hours and then headed back to Kodiak to bring Sam and the cats home tomorrow on the ferry.  If you have never been to Kodiak Island, you need to go.  More on that later.

Sam chowing down at the Kodiak Crabfest.

Sam is doing ok this week, although he did tell me yesterday his lower back is really bothering him.  The lower back is often a point of pain for many lung cancer patients as oftentimes what they are actually feeling is pain from tumors in their lungs.  In Sam's case, he is challenged by tumors in his lungs and in his back - a double whammy.  It sure does not seem to stop him, though, as he was out fishing yesterday (with no luck!) on the Olds River on Kodiak Island.

We have yet to see bears...I will be bummed if we leave the Island without seeing any!

Ciao!

It's my life And it's now or never 'Cause I ain't gonna live forever I just want to live while I'm alive (It's my life)...Jon Bon Jovi, Lyrics from "It's My Life"

Today Sam and I officially celebrate our 4th year of living in Alaska!  Wow.  So much has happened and we have so much still to do.  Tomorrow night we head out for Kodiak, catching the ferry in Homer early Friday morning.  Both of us are really looking forward to it.

Knik Glacier from our secret overlook.

Our weekend at Knik River Lodge was fabulous.  No rain, no wind, some clouds, we could not have asked for more.  We hiked to a spot overlooking the Knik Glacier and the trail is quite primitive!  A little over 5 miles roundtrip and some spots required hand over hand climbing.  Our knees hurt like crazy the next day!

Although Sam's appointment with his oncologist is not until tomorrow, he picked up the results from last week's CT scans on his chest, abdomen and pelvis yesterday because we could not wait any longer.  It is not what we want to hear.  "Numerous bilateral soft tissue density pulmonary parenchymal nodules are present, increasing significantly in size and number from previous, too numerous to count bilaterally."  In other words, the tumors in his lung surrounding his heart, including the main one directly behind his heart, increased significantly in size and numbers since the prior CT scan 3 months ago.  Right now I am not going to venture a guess at what the doctor will say tomorrow.  It might very well be that he does not see this as serious as we do (there is always hope!) Or, he will confirm our thoughts.

In the past when things changed, it normally took 3-4 days for the both of us to wrap our minds around it.  This time, not so much.  We knew something changed but we did not know what.  Putting my thoughts into written words is proving to be a struggle for me.  Plus I do not want to be like the boy who cried wolf, yet I want you to fully understand the situation.

The doctors at Seattle Cancer Care Alliance told us this was a definite possibility which eventually would lead to Sam being unable to breath.  However, at this time, that is not a problem because, as Sam noted, his lung capacity is above average which is probably his saving grace right now. Otherwise, his quality of life would be suffering and we would be making other decisions.

No matter what, we are headed to Kodiak!

If time allows tomorrow, I will post a quick note as to what the doctor and Sam decide to do from here.

Ciao!

Got no checkbooks, got no banks, Still I'd like to express my thanks - I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night. ~Irving Berlin, "I Got the Sun in the Morning," 1946

Cindi, Kimi, myself &Violet just before the start.

Last weekend was the 2012 Alaska Clean Air Bike Challenge (in case you did not know) and it was simply the most amazing weekend I have experienced in a long time. John Thain, KTVA Channel 11, interviewed Sam and I to kick off the ride, then followed me with camera and microphone for a few miles along the route on Saturday morning.  The interview was aired Monday night and again on Tuesday, and just in case, here is the link:  Glass Half Full. While riding along after I returned the bike camera and mike to John, I must admit I experienced a bit of melancholy, missing Sam and worrying about him being alone for the weekend.  Right then, it hit me that the Glass Half Full team captain needed to get out of that mood immediately, which I did.  Between my teammates, the other 300 or so riders, the weather and just the fact I was actually participating in a 120 mile bike ride in some of the most beautiful country, lifted my spirits immensely. There was a bit of rain the first day during the ride, hail that evening, beautiful sunshine Sunday morning with an incredible view of Denali...and then...the last 20 miles or so, a headwind which just about sent every one of us over the edge!

The view from my room at Talkeetna Lodge.  Denali in all his glory.

There were so many inspirational stories among the riders.  One woman was diagnosed with stage IIIB lung cancer and is an 8 year survivor.  She and her husband biked together and he is now preparing for the Seattle to DC bike ride this summer. Absolutely phenomenal people!  I am already looking forward to next year.

Sam is doing ok.  Yesterday was his monthly Zometa infusion for the bone mets and today was the CT scan for his lungs/abdomen/lower back region.  Hopefully it will show what is causing the pain and other issues, if not, an MRI will be the next step.  His spirits, as always, are great which makes the entire situation so much easier to deal with. Of course, it also helps fishing season is upon us and he has other things to think about.

The first of our many weekend jaunts is tomorrow as we are off for the weekend to Knik River Lodge.  Next week on the 25th we are headed to Kodiak for 10 days.  We are both really looking forward to that even though, as I noted previously, I will be flying home to work for a few days and then flying back.  Plus, Sam informed me this evening he will be taking his "kayak" along.  Oh boy.  I will have to find the picture of him in the kayak and you can judge for yourself but let's just say...he barely sits above the water. I will just do my best to not think about it!

Ciao!

“Courage is like a muscle strenghthened by its use.” Ruth Gordon (the late actress)

Sam is either the bravest man I know or the craziest man I know, or possibly a little of both.  Hints about various aspects of his current physical health have been dropped all week, and tonight is no different. "My left eye is kind of blurry."  Followed by, "I guess it's been that way a few days...maybe a week or so."  Hello?  Since when does "a few days" equal "a week or so?"  Either way, I did not react because that drives him nuts.  I calmly walked into my bathroom and proceeded to have a "moment" while processing what Sam had just told me.  At that point, I headed to the computer to google "blurry left eye lung cancer."  Needless to say, I should not have done that.  While I am sitting here silently freaking out, Sam is over in his chair, laughing with the cats, cheerful as can be just like life is normal, which in a way, I suppose it is.

On the other hand, now he is sitting over there telling me that perhaps the reason he is having these "head" problems is because his brain is tired from studying too much Japanese.  As a certain former half-governor often says, "You betcha!"

Rocky aka Garfield, taking his after dinner nap.
He is so black you can hardly see that
his head is  upside down.

After writing all this, I do feel better and it really is life as usual.  So many different things happen throughout the course of one's cancer journey, it is often referred to as a "roller coaster ride."  Therefore, overreacting to something is not in any one's best interest, especially Sam's or mine. Tomorrow, however, if he still is having issues, I will insist on him calling the oncology triage nurse to tell her what is going on.

Sweet Pea guarding her toys because she knows the
scary big green monster (the vacuum) is about to come
out of the closet and get her and all her toys!

As for me, one more week until the Clean Air Bike Challenge (http://action.lung.org/goto/daraglass) and yes, I am ready.   Sunday is the Bike for Women and although it is only 9 miles (compared to 120 next week) the first half is downhill which means the second half is uphill.  What are the race planners thinking? No matter what it will be fun.

Our Memorial Day plans are made, we are headed to Kodiak on the ferry. If all goes as planned, because we are not able to get a ferry back until the following weekend, I will fly home on Tuesday morning and fly back to Kodiak Friday afternoon to get Sam and our truck back on the ferry Saturday to head home.  Yes, it sounds kind of crazy, but sometimes you just do what you have got to do.  He is very excited about spending a few additional days hanging out in Kodiak (city) and I hope it all works out for him and that I do not worry too much about him.

Ciao!

You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something - your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life. Steve Jobs

Two years ago today proved to be the most challenging day of my life to date, even more so than the day we were given Sam's stage IV lung cancer diagnosis.  We were four months into learning about the diagnosis and we were both still working to wrap our minds completely around what was happening to us.  I had quit one job because the stress of both dealing with work and dealing with the initial absolute craziness of cancer was more than I could handle, and started another after a two month hiatus only because Sam realized he could no longer work.  Friday afternoon I was sitting in my office and received a text from Sam saying that he had moved out.  He did not even have the decency to call, only text, which told me many things.  I do not remember much about that day except the stress, the panic, and everything else a person experiences at moments like that, hit me full force.  I could hardly even talk.  The worst part was, I did not really know anyone in my office as I had only been there about six weeks and did not know where to turn or what to do.  I called my therapist and she was incredible because I was an absolute basket case, and I also called a mutual friend of ours.  At that point in time, not only was I grieving for losing my husband to an illness over which we had no control, but I was losing my husband because he claimed he could not live with me anymore and needed to get away.  We had already been in intensive counseling for four solid months; however, it was apparently not enough. Today, we both understand that he just needed to get away from everything or he was going to burst, as the saying goes. Neither of us understood that two years ago, we just both knew we were suffering more than either one of us could bear. I did not hear from him all day on Saturday, then on Sunday morning, he texted and asked me to meet him for breakfast, which I did.  During the entire meal, I was afraid to say anything, but he had a lot to say, mostly in anger.  His biggest fear was that I would not support him, that I would not listen to what he wanted, and therefore, when he is actually dying, I would be doing what I wanted, not what he wanted.  All I could think was, why would I do anything other than what he wanted?  Convincing him of that, though, has been an ongoing challenge for me.  He finally came home late Monday night, but not before he made me promise I would listen to and act on what he wanted when it came to dealing with the cancer.  I was so scared I would never see him again, it brings tears to my eyes even now.

Forget where we were going, but we were at the airport waiting to leave.

The reason I am telling you this is that I want to make you aware that this behavior is common for cancer patients, and more than likely all terminally ill individuals.  From what we have learned because of the struggle with losing the ability to control their life, the patient focuses on controlling whatever and whomever they can to make up for the loss.  We have come a long, long way in two years and I no longer have any fears of Sam leaving like that again.  If nothing else, even though we struggled with the issues of that weekend for many months, we are much stronger as individuals and as partners than ever before.  This is also a very long, and at least partial, explanation as to why we are able to maintain (at least for the most part) positive attitudes, because we know that no matter what, we have already been through the worst life can throw at us.  Now, we need to turn this negative into a positive and live the best lives we can for as long as we can as a team, not as two separate individuals on the same journey.  The sad part about all this is that there are many couples who do split up after a terrible diagnosis like this, mostly because the stress is simply quite unbelievable from so many different angles and there is absolutely no way one could ever be prepared for anything like this.  My heart breaks for everyone suffering from cancer as I know only too well what you are going through.  I wish I had words of wisdom to make it easier, but I do not, except for faith, hope and love.

On that note, today, two years later, we are doing terrific.  Sam spent the day making tentative summer plans for us, filling in more of his bucket list.  We hope to be able to take the Alaska Ferry to Kodiak for Memorial Day weekend and be a part of the Crab Festival.  He also signed up to take a Japanese course at UAA in the fall.  There is great hope for the future!

Ciao!